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#show me sin don't get stuck
spottedenchants · 6 months
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12 and 97? ;P
Fun fun :D
12: Noises by Mike Mains & The Branches
This one technically covers the whole section of TS's 2.5 year angst when Essek is moping on the Nein Heroez II- angery boy ahoy
“Why are you here?”
“Why do you think, Essek?”
“You care, yes. I am certain that is the case for every. Last. One of you.”
At arm’s length, he notes the scream stuck in his gullet, swelling his tongue as it makes every attempt to scrabble from his lungs and carve flesh.
He bites it back, as always. As always, he meters it a miser.
He hisses out a sigh sharp enough to sand his voice perfectly level. 
“But, I don’t need your pity. I do not need your concern. I am merely biding my time, and am attempting to be unobtrusive in the meanwhile. Patience is a virtue, no?”
“No need to go overboard with it. You didn’t pick it as a name over Journey.”
A shrill whine in his mind, that collared thing in his chest begging to roar, Essek scours his synapses for every remaining marrow-ground speck of diplomacy.
It is a slog. It is a strain.
It is a neglected habit he summons by rote, but he has learned from his snap at Jester that if he wants to be understood by the Common-minded he must phrase himself simple and stupid.
-
97: Brave New World by Kalandra
Campaign Essek song! I have this one as an Aeor montage, so here's some Aeor Wizard Date :3
All pieces placed, it sounds very much as though there was a body grown from seed flesh, then, capable of housing an unbound soul. No wonder this subject was broached with the Empire’s leanings pertaining to necromancy.
“Human shapes tend to come with ten as I understand it.”
“That one’s gone, now.”
So there was more than one. Misdirection indeed.
“And the other? Or would it be ‘others’?”
“He also has a furrow, healed very well, right…”
And Caleb lifts a foot to the seat, bends one knee up, runs a pinkie along his inner thigh.
“Here. Certainly nothing he would have revealed in polite company.”
Essek snaps his eyes to Caleb’s face, finds him smirking as he continues.
“We found that too.”
If Astrid’s scream represented a mere sliver of the rage held internal by those of Caleb’s learning….
“Some deserved catharsis in the process, I’m sure.”
“Oh yes.”
For an instant, there’s an unmistakable tinderbox spark to Caleb’s eyes, a slight manic delight, a ghost of an impression like the glint of blade before blood, fang before gore, that reminds Essek to be grateful he is this man’s friend and not foe.
Just as quick, it is gone.
-
send me a number 1-100 and the share the song on my top songs list and a snippet from its fic
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chuluoyi · 6 months
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MARRIED ON PURPOSE
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- gojo satoru x reader
"for one, i can show you incredible things!" jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.
genre: marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, crack, fluff, slight satosugu angst/comfort, kamo!reader, very suggestive. gojo clan is portrayed as very traditional, meanwhile kamo clan is rather unpleasant here
note: the unholy amount of times i've edited this story *sigh* but okay i must drop it here or else i'm going to keep editing it and losing my mind. despite my misgivings and all, i really had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy it! wc. 5k !
a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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Some would say... marrying Gojo Satoru would be living the dream.
“Don't look that sour now, wife.”
“…sigh.”
A playful nudge at your side, a lighthearted voice— “You're going to make them question our veeery happy marriage, you know… We don't want that now, do we?”
But to you, it was more like nightmare dressed in a daydream.
It was peak comedy because why would you put marrying Gojo Satoru in your life plans? He was incorrigible, a child trapped in a man's body, and there was also the very fact that you hate him. His only redeeming trait was being born in the esteemed Gojo clan, and now held the title of the strongest.
You know you must have accumulated karma, but out of everything else, why must you end up in this predicament?
Hailing from the great clans of jujutsu society, both of you know well that marriage is the essence to make the clan greater. And when it involves the big three clans, its importance amplifies even further.
It was just that you two were too rebellious to follow it through, for one reason or another. Everyone knows Gojo Satoru was faithless to any woman, and you were not exactly thrilled with the idea of marriage as a whole.
He was the one who came to you, proposing this insane idea of a temporary marriage.
"Look at it this way," Satoru said with a wry grin, contrasting your puzzled frown on that fateful afternoon. "It's either me or Zen'in Naoya for you, isn't it? It's so clear which is the better man."
That was what grated you the most. You would be damned if you married the misogynist.
"What do you get from this arrangement, really?" you questioned begrudgingly.
His name would give you security, stop the harassment from your clan, and maybe even a better life, but you didn't quite get what he'd get from the offer he willingly extended to you.
Satoru flippantly shrugged. "Nah, you are not exactly my type, but you're still far better than the boring puppet my family have considered to be my wife."
"Who?"
"Don't remember her name. All she goes on about is that she'll be the good wife and mother of my child. Ew."
Seven hells. You scowled. Gojo Satoru and his penchant for chasing the thrill. Boring women would kill him before an actual curse would.
"And hey, for one," he shot you a smirk, visibly smug. "I can show you incredible things!"
"That's not the point! Gojo, do you even realize—" your voice rose, pulsating with righteous fury, "—how serious all of this is? My life, your life! We're going to be stuck—together!"
"Six months," he blurted, tilting his head slightly. His sunglasses slipped down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. "It's enough time to work through our shits, and by then if you have enough, we're through."
At that time, it seemed feasible. Both of you tolerating each other to avoid a much worse match.
. . .
BACK TO PRESENT—barely a week ever since you were paraded around as his wife, now you and Satoru were stiffly poised in the studio in your formal garbs, capturing your official wedding photos.
At that time, it seemed feasible, but now, it felt like a chore, as you realized that conversing with him either spiked your blood pressure so much that you wouldn't even be surprised if you ended up with hypertension or completely sapped your energy that you were left exhausted.
"Come on, show a smiiile," Satoru said in a sing-song voice, gesturing toward the camera as it flashed for the pictures. You were beyond appalled, shooting a glare in his direction.
"I am smiling, Gojo."
"Liar. You're pouting, wifey~"
Sigh… this really is going to be one hella of a ride, huh?
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MONTH ONE, and you found out that Gojo Satoru is apparently as mad as people made him out to be.
"You've got to be kidding me!" you fumed, right after he hauled you into one of the rooms in his grand, traditional estate. Your glare pierced through him, a blood vessel ready to burst. "We never agreed on ‘consummating’ the marriage!"
You wrote him a goddamn contract. And the three conditions of this chaotic marriage are: one, it would only last six months; two, no personal feelings involved; and three, nothing borderline disturbing.
And this, you concluded, was the height of what could be called as disturbing.
"We will not," Satoru replied with a hint of disdain, grimacing, as if the notion didn't sit well with him either. The audacity! "We're just going to make it as if we are—"
"And why?! Why should I do that?!"
"Why else? Because my old fart believes that we indeed haven't done so."
"Then it's your fault? For failing to convince him? Why turn it into my problem!"
"Because, dear wife," he drawled, his tone taunting on the final note. "Now we're on the same page, in case you have forgotten."
Great clans and their hollow expectations spare no one, not even Gojo Satoru. They place importance in the most banal things, such as the continuity of sacred bloodlines and such.
The only alternative wasn't appealing either. Should you be found out that you married only to divorce... sigh, you didn't even want to know how big of a scandal it would be. One thing was certain: your clan would chop you to shreds.
You really had no choice, huh?
"Five minutes," you warned, glaring at him. "Make it loud. Make it so that no one wouldn't question this anymore."
Oh and sure he would. As Satoru pulled that shit-eating grin, you were in for another ride. You waited out until several maids were nearby, left the wooden door ajar, and began the show—
His hands wrapped around your waist—the feeling was peculiar, but you ignored it—and you let him pull you near that open door. He snuggled his face on your neck—his hair tickling you in the process, but you ignored that peculiarity again—as he started making suggestive noises. "Mm, you're so pretty, darling."
You could hear those maids gasp in surprise. And to add the flavor, you faked a moan.
This is... kinda fun? A twisted part of you suddenly found satisfaction in fooling the maids. A smile tugged at your lips as you shoved him away, and Satoru eyed you in surprise and irritation.
"Husband, you're... insatiable," you worded languidly, and he immediately caught on your act, grinning. "Anyone can walk by, you know."
"Oh? But that's the point." Satoru's bright blue eyes twinkled with utter mischief, and even you couldn't deny the exhilarating rush. "I want them to know."
And suddenly you got this very brilliant idea. You swiftly moved past him and sent the books and trinkets on his desk flying to the floor, causing questionable noises.
"Oh my!" a girlish voice exclaimed.
"The master! And the lady!"
Satoru shook his head, thoroughly entertained. And you rolled your eyes. Those nosy maids would finally have enough now, and this charade would end—
"What's happening here?"
The old fart. Both you and Satoru grunted in unison. You really thought you would leave it up to the maids to spread the word, but then you were taken by surprise when he wrapped his hands around you and flung the door open, slamming you against it—and damn it hurt!—offering everyone a front-row seat to your charade.
The maids squealed. His grandfather raised a righteous, demanding eyebrow. You wanted to scream.
"Hey, gramps," he greeted jovially, breathless, his grip on you tightening and you felt heat radiating from his palm. "Ah, sorry, opened it by accident—the wife here is feisty, you see."
Your veins felt ready to burst. Was this a part of his plan all along? How would you show your face before your grandfather-in-law now that he had seen this... atrocity?!
"So, yeah, we'll resume our business!" Satoru, the idiot, said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "See ya!"
With that the door slammed shut, but oh no, it was not the end.
"Mmmph!?" you protested, unintentionally loud and eyes widening in alarm when Satoru muffled your mouth with his hand.
The rotten bastard! You found it nearly impossible to breathe, shooting daggers at him. "Mmmrgh! Mmmrrgh!"
"Oh... so that boy really does it huh," you heard the elder mutter in thoughtful manner from outside—and you were in disbelief at how trusting he was—before rounding the stunned maids and barked, "What are all you doing here? Go!"
You nearly sagged with relief when Satoru loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to breathe, as his meddlesome grandpa finally stalked away. Done. This horrible act was over! But wait, why did he still had his hand on your mouth?
"That went splendidly!" he snickered, appearing rather pleased with what had unfolded. "Now, if only we work together like this more often—"
This is… my life now, you lamented the reality. The feeling of his calloused hand on you made you feel things, honestly speaking, but another emotion—and impulse—currently overpowered that.
Seething with resentment, you fiercely chomped down on his hand hard, causing him to swear and pull his hand out of you.
"You—you devil! You bit me!"
"Serves you right!"
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Okay, he was bad. He was insufferable. But to be frank, sometimes it wasn't all chaos.
And what's more, by MONTH TWO, you realized that being married to Gojo Satoru also comes with several perks.
"Miss, please, you're trespassing—"
You looked at the police with the haughtiest look you could muster, unamused. "Don't you know who I am?"
"No, but it shouldn't—"
"I'm that man's wife," you declared regally, motioning towards a certain tall shuttlecock a few meters away. "Is that not clear enough for you?"
For one, no one can look down on you anymore, because should they try, you have the power to raise your chin high and declare yourself as the wife of the infamous sorcerer. The very moment you did, that nosy police stopped yapping, and let you through.
The cursed boy, Yuta and his classmate had just been trapped inside a barrier a curse user pulled down, and you were assigned to look into this case by the headquarters. As much as it boggled you—because certainly, the strongest sorcerer was enough to investigate this—you still had to do your job.
“What is this?” you asked Satoru, who was observing something far beyond what your measly ordinary eyes could see. “What happened here?”
He turned to you, all with bandaged eyes. “Hmm? Oh, you’re here too?”
“Don't act surprised. Answer my question, Gojo.”
"You’re too uptight, wifey," Satoru's lips curved upwards playfully. He had taken to addressing you with pet names as of late, if anything, only to get a rise out of you. "Isn't it the time for you to start calling me by my given name?"
You let out a weary exhale, exasperated. "I'm serious, did you find anything? Who is behind this?"
"Nah, nothing for you to worry about," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, grinning. "More importantly! Let's head back and have dinner! My treat!"
You weren't that oblivious. You noticed things too.
"What do you want tonight? Sukiyaki? Sushi?" he hummed nonchalantly. "Or shabu-shabu?"
You gave him the stink eye. "Is that all you think about? Food?"
"As a responsible husband, it's my duty to feed my wife, no?"
"News flash: temporary wife."
"But still my wife, regardless. I overheard you earlier. Being Mrs. Gojo is convenient, yeah?"
You ignored how a part of your jolted at the emphasis he placed on that word, grunting. "Nah, it's meh."
Call it a feeling or hypothesis. It was similar to how he treated his students. He always said the dumbest things, but it actually served to make them feel at ease.
Then it occurred to you, could this be actually his attempt to change the subject?
"You can't cheat your way out of this." You shot him a pointed look. "You know something. Tell me."
"Hmmm? And what would I get in return?"
"Don't make this difficult. I'm on this assignment too!"
"Nah, if you call me by my name, I might consider it."
Hah. You should really read a parenting book one of these days. Taking on your husband was more or less the same as facing a kid.
"Satoru," you tested, the name rolling out of your lips far easier than you thought. Somehow, using his given name felt like some sort of a leap of faith.
He stopped right in his tracks, turning to you. His glossy lips quirked into a meaningful smile, and you felt funny.
"Wasn't that difficult, was it?" he winked, and you covered the strange heat creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes and huffed.
Needless to say, he still didn't tell you even a clue. You finally gave up, thinking that if he insisted on not disclosing it, then so be it. You trusted him on this, even as he turned your help away, and you hated admitting it, because, well…
You’d trust him with your life. He knows how to handle this better than anyone.
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Being a a woman in Kamo clan is, in fact, not any better than in Zen'in—you're regarded more as a commodity than a human being.
"When will you bear the child of the bearer of Six Eyes?" in your father's eyes, you were but a tool to tie the Gojo at his hip, and your worth probably wasn't even twice of Noritoshi's. You had known he would ask this when he summoned you to Kamo ancestral home, and you weren't that naive—you had asked Satoru to join you too. But your father had insisted him to stay at the foyer, while he dragged you into his chamber.
Just because you had seen it coming didn’t mean you liked it. "Is that all? Do you really make me come here just to ask me that?"
And what came next was like a crack of thunder.
"How insolent!"
You shuddered, hating how his voice still had control over you. You wanted to stay deviant, but you couldn't keep yourself from shaking. You thought you would have to endure this shit just like you did before, until—
"Now, now... That's my wife you're talking to. I'd watch your words, if I were you."
You had never whipped your head so fast.
There stood Gojo Satoru, your husband, in all his glory. He was smiling but it was clear that he was displeased, evident from his cutting remark, and most notably, how he had unveiled his striking cerulean eyes for all to see. Truth to be told, you didn't expect him to barge in here at all.
"Gojo-sama," your father bowed his head, displaying utter respect towards him, contrasting the blatant disrespect he showed towards you just now. Satoru paid him no heed, as took big strides towards you and seized your arm, prompting you to rise to your feet.
"What is this? Why are you yelling at her?" His voice lacked its usual hint of amusement or teasing, sending a chill down your spine.
"Gojo-sama, I apologize for my tone towards my daughter earlier. I was just trying to educate—"
“My wife. She is my wife now, and it would do you better to remember that,” Satoru asserted firmly, putting emphasis in the way he addressed you, his gaze hardening. "She is an adult. There's nothing left for you to educate her." Pausing, he added, "And the way I saw it, you were just unnecessarily rude."
"Gojo-sama, there were just certain things in our clan that—"
"Please, don't call on us again," Satoru interjected decisively with a light yet firm voice. You could swear your heart was somersaulting at the sight of him staring down your natural enemy. "I'm sure you're aware, but your daughter bears my name now, and she will get the respect she is due. I will have a word with anyone who fails to treat her accordingly."
Somehow or another, Satoru whisked you away from that hellhole, your hand tightly clasped in his. Your relieved sigh didn't go unnoticed by him, as he looked back to you.
"Have you gone soft?" he teased, eyeing you with a playful snort. "Did you forget who your husband is? You've got nothing to fear. Not even him."
"Thank you," you murmured. Your heart was still pounding and your mind blanked, rendering you unable to engage in your usual banters.
His clear blue eyes widened a touch, blinking at your display of vulnerability, Then, he wore the most innocent expression, even sporting a silly smirk—the hardness from earlier gone. "I was really cool, huh? Totally made you swoon I bet."
And in MONTH THREE, you realized, as he laced his fingers with yours, as his laughter filled the air, as calmness swelled on your chest, and as you loudly snorted at his remark, that—
You felt warm, so warm, in fact, and maybe—
"Pfft, you wish."
—maybe... being with him isn't so bad after all.
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MONTH FOUR, and you finally found out that it was Geto Suguru.
Everyone knew that your husband and the criminal used to be the best of friends. You saw them during your high school days, and heck, you used to think that Geto was the better man.
You could only imagine what he must feel.
. . .
When he got back to your shared house after the whole ordeal—after he ended his best friend with his own hands, Satoru honestly didn't expect that you would be waiting for him.
"You okay?" you asked him, brows furrowed in concern. It was probably one of the very few times you had displayed emotions other than contempt towards him.
It felt strange because he was used to your jabs, and he was not sure what sort of expression he should pull now, because truthfully, now he felt empty. Blank. All he comprehended was that he had killed Suguru, that he was gone, and that was something he must do.
It would be just like any other day if hadn't just committed a murder. On someone he held dear.
"Of course, who do you think I am?" Satoru swiftly replied, sounding smug—or at least tried to. "I'm the strongest. I’m unscat—"
"No, not that." You frowned, meeting his gaze squarely. "After everything."
Satoru struggled to choose how he should react, partly because most of his energy had gone after walking Yuta back and reassuring him earlier, and by default, the two of you should be hellbent on hating each other and wishing for this contract to end soon.
"Aww, are you worried about me?" he quipped with a touch of sarcasm just because he had to, to show you that it wasn't enough to ruffle him.
Because he is still the strongest, even when alone. Especially when he is alone.
You let out a sigh, looking away. "Can't I?"
"Whoa, that's sweet of—"
"Don't fool yourself," you stated in straight-laced manner, meeting his gaze with a composed expression. "You're not okay. You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did."
You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did.
Despite himself, his smile fell, and his chest burns. What is this? Were you sympathizing with him?
Does that mean that you don't see him as the entity... that was the strongest?
Before now, Satoru remembered you as the most uncooperative Kyoto girl he had ever met. Your first meeting in high school sealed your fate as the two of you could hardly get along. You didn't mince words, you didn't take shit from anyone else—heck, sometimes when he thought of you, what came up to mind was an impenetrable diamond.
Which was why he chose you. You were someone he could trust. You were pretty in the eyes and certainly wouldn't bore him either. His reasons were purely based on logic. And after four months with you, Satoru came to a conclusion that you indeed fulfilled all his expectations, if not more.
And he felt comfortable, or dare he say, secure even. He felt like he had gained a friend, who could see past his bravado and wouldn't judge him for it.
"You're..." you sighed, casting a sympathetic glance at him, your forehead slightly creased. At that moment, Satoru couldn't help but think you were incredibly endearing, fretting over him. "...an idiot."
"Heh." I really am, aren't I?
"I never knew him well..." you chose your words carefully, hesitant. "Did you try to convince him, before this?"
He barked a bitter laugh. "I did, we even made a scene in front of freaking KFC," he remarked with a scoff. "He didn't listen to me, until the very end."
You wanted to tell him “You have done everything you could” but the words faltered on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it when you saw the faint quiver of his lips, the slump of his shoulders—the very sight of a boy grieving the loss of his friend.
Your heart pricked too, somehow, seeing that expression on him. And you once again realized that your silly, exalted husband was just as human as anyone else who made him think he wasn’t.
"And you know what he said in the end?" Satoru's tone was flippant, as if asking the most normal thing around, but carried a trace of grief, evident in the slight drop in his tone if you squinted. "He said he didn't regret it, not even a bit."
"I'm sorry," was all you could manage.
Satoru's smile was lopsided. Now that he had finally accepted it, something inside him finally bleeds, and it freaking hurts. The pain gripped his chest like a swirling inferno.
But then, you boldly clasped his hand in yours, gently tracing soothing circles on its back.
"What?" he peered at you, feeling a ghost of a smile forming.
"Consider this emotional support."
And he chuckled softly. Despite the lingering ache, despite the gloom he was sure he would carry for the rest of his life, he felt the pain was more bearable with you by his side, somewhat.
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How?
You blamed it on the alcohol, because it was MONTH FIVE and you were kissing Gojo Satoru, daringly.
"We shouldn't be doing this," you rasped between kisses, breathless, as your own sinful hands plucked the buttons off his shirt. The intoxication might have played a part, but the intense heat coursing through you made it hard to think straight.
Satoru crashed his lips against yours again, consumed by blind lust. "Yeah, we shouldn't," he replied in a rush. His breath was hot as he trailed his lips down your jaw and neck next, savoring the softness of your skin.
You two had attended a banquet for the elite, and you were unbelievably beautiful. Standing by his side as his wife, you drew admiring glances, with everyone marveling at what a remarkable couple you made. The Gojo heir who was born with the legendary Limitless and the Kamo heiress, as lovely as her clan's name was powerful.
His deft hands roamed the curves of your body, exploring every inch of you. The warmth of his hands tickled something inside you as you closed your eyes to sink into this very moment. Next you knew, his bare body was against yours and you were stripped out of your evening dress.
Lust flickered in his honored eyes, as he took in the sight of you in your undergarments.
"You're really pretty, you know," he whispered. The intensity with which his eyes scanned your form made you nearly squirm. "Shame we don't always get along."
"You're one to talk," you retorted, a hint of exasperation in your tone, as you willed all other thoughts away. Thoughts like what comes after this. Thoughts like—
Is it heaven or sin, if you feel both at once?
His thumb tenderly caressed your plush lips, a hint of a smirk on his beautiful face.
He has long been thinking about your body. He was but a man, after all. He just didn't expect that you wanted this too.
There was always this tension, only this time, neither of you could hold it back anymore. Perhaps it was impulse—hell, most certainly it is, but there was another thing, something more that even Gojo Satoru still didn't dare to say out loud.
"Eager, are we?" he taunted when you leaned in, yearning for the touch of his lips on yours again.
You huffed. “Shut up and kiss me.”
A rush of heat flooded your cheeks at the slip of those words. You were about to rectify it, taken aback by your own boldness, but then he drew you close, silencing any further protest with a gentle hush—
"Too late, sweetheart," his husky voice entered your ears, lips curling into the most wicked smile, and you were in a trance. And Satoru was once again convinced, that choosing you as his wife was the rightest thing there was.
If the two of you went with this, then there would be consequences. Things would become more complicated, harder to sort out.
But, he decided, as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, everything else can wait.
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MONTH SIX, and you were dreading the day of your divorce.
You brought this upon yourself. Whenever you reminisced about that night, you wanted to smack yourself in the face and bang your head against the nearest wall.
This marriage has a time limit. And you were doing it out of convenience in the first place.
You weren't supposed to… goddammit—fall in love with him.
But what's done is done, there is no going back in time. Awkward exchanges and lingering stares had been gnawing at your insides these days, and you were sure Satoru too must have noticed them too. You two used to be more relaxed with each other, and he'd even flirt with you, but weeks ever since that night of drunken passion, you almost reverted back to your high school personas—ignoring each other.
This was tough. You didn't like this. And more than that, you were faced with a more pressuring matter...
Gojo Satoru, with everything he possessed, could have had any woman he wanted. This arrangement with you was temporary in the first place, soon he would forget you and flit to the next woman.
The thought made your heart ache, because you had involuntarily gave your heart away to him. Siiigh… What a predicament you put yourself into, huh?
With just a month left together, maybe you should just make the best of it.
. . .
If you thought that things were any better with Satoru, then you were sorely wrong because he too, was debating with himself often nowadays.
Days spent with you were fun and fulfilling. You irked expression somehow had made its mark in his heart. You were pretty, fit to be by his side publicly and preferably, behind the closed doors. With you, he didn't feel the need to carry this facade of being strong—he could be a clown tripping over his own trap and you would amuse him with your deadpan expression.
And ever since that night, he was constantly reminded by how soft your skin was against his. It almost drove him crazy now that he was deprived of it.
How was it the last month already? He wasn't ready to let you go yet.
When he got back home later after his class ended and found you in the dinner table setting the food, all he could muster was, "Hey. Haven't eaten?"
You whirled around to face him in surprise. "Oh... you're back. Just about to. Want to join me?"
Of course he would. And yet as the two of you sat down, it was so painfully awkward Satoru felt like he was dying inside.
Why couldn't he pull off a smart line or two? Where did his suaveness go? He was smoother than this, surely, with his colorful history. One night of passion was supposed to enhance the relationship, not to derail it. What happened to you both?
The salt was near his side when you reached to grab it and bumped into his hand. "Uh-oh."
Turning towards you, he found your spooked expression and your adorable eyes widening in surprise. "S-sorry..."
It was just freaking salt! Salt! Why on earth were you apologizing?!
Enough, he thought. This utter madness of being jumpy with each other. He'd start from his side.
Does he want you to keep being his wife even after all this ends? Yes.
Why? All reasons already listed above.
Does this mean he likes you? Apparently and supposedly, yes. Because if it isn't then he doesn't know what this funny feeling driving him mad is.
With that sorted out, then he only had one more thing to confirm. He put down his spoon and crossed his arms together. "Tell me the truth. Do you like living with me?"
His question obviously took you by surprise. "Huh? What brought this on?"
"Just give me an answer."
"You're so pushy," you grumbled, lips pursed, and he felt like you were finally back to your usual dynamics somewhat. Good.
"Sooo, the verdict? Do you enjoy being with me or not?"
Because to him, it was a resounding yes and more.
Ignoring the warmth that surged to your cheeks, you rolled your eyes. "Surprisingly, not bad, yeah," you admitted, mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "You're annoying, an idiot, a bit crazy—"
"Hey!"
"—but eventually you're still... manageable," you added, feeling your face truly start to sizzle. But covered it up by looking down and playing with your fingers as you still had more to go on. "What I want to say is... I'm glad that I agreed to this—with you—because I can’t imagine it with anyone else."
An unfamiliar tingling emotion rushed to his chest as his face too started to heat up, letting your words sink in. Is he blushing? Oh God. He sure is. And so did he feel hella giddy.
Then it’s sealed.
Suddenly he procured a piece of paper from his work uniform and showed it to you. You first saw his lazily scrawled signature before it dawned on you.
The contract. You almost forgot that you made him sign that looming piece of paper. You were almost dismayed, thinking that he would end this right then and there, but then—
“Well, then… I suppose we no longer need this.”
Riiip~
Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Gojo Satoru tore out your contract right in front of your face, the most brilliant of his devilish grin adorned his handsome face, as he took of his blindfold to see you far clearly than ever. Heavens, you are cute, he thought.
“Soooo~ seems like you’re stuck with me from now on!”
You gaped, awestruck at the blatant meaning of it all, feeling how your heartbeat started to pick up the pace, when he pulled the rag out of your feet once more by tilting his head to the side, looking at you with a winning smile.
“Let’s start over! What did they say again? Ah, yeah. Here’s to the first day of our lives!”
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sadnymi · 27 days
Text
「 ✦ Guilty as sin ✦ 」
[Theodore Nott × reader] [TTPD Masterlist]
Summary:(Request) Theo x f!reader where she is a huuuuuge flirt. Flirts with the whole slytherin gang, the golden trio, literally everyone EXCEPT Theo and it doesn’t bother him until his friends start teasing him about it and then it drives him CRAZY. So he tracks her down and she’s all blushy like “idk how to flirt with someone I actually like??” And then smut ensues
Warning: smut
Words:3.5k
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Laughter echoed through the empty corridor – a welcome reprieve from the usual bustle of Hogwarts life. We were on a glorious post-lunch break, a rare moment where none of us had classes.
Draco, ever the stoic one, smirked from the corner, a hint of amusement flickering in his grey eyes. Blaise, reclining against the wall along with mattheo and Enzo .
“So, what’s got you all so chipper today?” I asked, leaning against the wall opposite them, my eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Oh, just the usual,” Mattheo replied with a grin, his eyes scanning me up and down. “Though your presence certainly brightens things up.”
I laughed, a playful glint in my eye. “Is that so, Mattheo? I’m flattered.”
“Flattered, are you?” Enzo chimed in, his smile broadening. “Just wait till you hear what Draco’s been saying about you.”
Draco rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile playing at his lips. “Don’t drag me into this, Enzo.”
I arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Oh? And what exactly has Draco been saying?”
Draco finally looked directly at me, his smirk deepening. “Nothing that wouldn’t make you blush, I’m sure.”
Suddenly, the air shimmered and Theo materialized beside me, a frown etched on his handsome face. My laughter died in my throat, replaced by a nervous flutter in my stomach.
Don't get me wrong, Theo was so attractive. Tall, dark, and mysterious, he exuded an aura that drew you in like a moth to a flame. That’s why I always act that awkward whenever he show up.
"Hey, Y/L/N," Theo greeted me, his voice a low rumble. "Having fun?"
But before I could respond, a mischievous glint sparked in Blaise's eyes. "Having fun? She's practically rolling on the floor here! Just look at her," he nudged me with his elbow, "completely smitten with my hilarious story."
My cheeks burned. "Oh, shut up, Zabini," I swatted him playfully. "It was Enzo's joke that was funny, not yours."
Enzo chuckled. "Thanks, Y/N."
We all fell into a comfortable banter again, the conversation flowing like a well-worn path. But with every witty remark aimed at me, every playful touch from Blaise or Enzo, I found myself subtly shifting away from Theo. It wasn't intentional, not really. Maybe a subconscious defense mechanism, a way to keep myself safe from the intensity I sensed in him.
Finally, unable to handle the mounting tension any longer, I blurted, "Oh, well, this has been lovely, but I actually have to…" My voice trailed off, searching for a believable excuse.
"Potions homework?" Blaise offered with a raised eyebrow.
"Uh, yeah, yes," I stammered, "Look at the time! I completely forgot, I have to—"
"Go?" Mattheo finished my sentence with a playful grin, his eyes flickering between me and Theo. "That seems to be your usual line whenever Nott graces us with his presence."
A collective laugh went up from the others, but a blush crept up my cheeks. Was it that obvious?
"See, Theo? That's just how Y/N is. Always gotta disappear when you show up."
Behind me, I could hear the eruption of laughter. Draco's voice rang out, “See ? Always leaving when you appear Nott, gets the charm offensive."
I winced, a mixture of guilt washing over me, I grabbed my bag and walked away.
As I walked to the class the next day my stomach lurched, I scanned the room. Every single seat was taken except for one – the one directly next to Theo. A wave of annoyance washed over me. Why did I have to be the one stuck beside him after yesterday's awkward retreat?
With a resigned sigh, I marched towards the empty chair, determined to keep our interaction to a minimum. Just as I sat down, the classroom door slammed open, and Professor Snape strode in with his usual scowl.
"Settle down!" his baritone voice boomed. "Since we're already behind, we'll be starting immediately. Take out your textbooks and quills, we're brewing Veritaserum today."
My shoulders slumped. Of course, today would be the day Snape insisted on absolute honesty. Great.
I grabbed my textbook with a muttered curse, desperately trying to ignore the heat radiating from beside me. Theo. He was practically close enough to see the worried frown etched on my forehead.
"Rough day, Y/N?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine despite myself.
I kept my eyes glued to my textbook, pretending to be engrossed in the complicated brewing instructions. "Just fine," I mumbled, my voice a touch too high-pitched.
A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "Do I make you nervous, Y/N?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement.
My cheeks burned. Did he have to be so perceptive? "No," I lied unconvincingly, still refusing to meet his gaze.
"Then why the avoidance act?" he pressed.
My cheeks felt like they were on fire. I couldn't take it anymore. Taking a deep breath, I finally looked at him, ready to fire back with a witty retort.
But as our eyes met, something unexpected happened. All the bravado I had practiced in my head evaporated. His gaze held a depth I hadn't noticed before, a hint of something… more.
The stern voice of Professor Snape cut through the sudden tension. "Miss Y/N, Mr. Nott! Pay attention or face detention."
Flustered, I tore my gaze away from Theo.
The moment Professor Snape dismissed the class, I bolted. My cheeks still burned from Theo's teasing, his words replaying in my head like a broken record. "Do I make you nervous?" Ugh, the audacity!
Heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs, I weaved through the throng of students, desperate to escape the classroom and the lingering scent of Theo's cologne.
As I rounded a corner, I slammed right into someone, the impact knocking the breath out of me. I stumbled back, muttering an apology.
"Easy there, love. Running from someone?"
My cheeks burned like someone had set them on fire with a dragon's breath. "No, no, of course not," I stammered, my voice tripping over itself. "Just... eager to get to my next class."
Mattheo raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his grey eyes. "Really? Because you look like you just escaped a dragon attack in those robes."
"I-I really have to go," I mumbled again, yanking my arm free from Matteo's grasp.
Before he could say another word, I bolted. I sprinted down the hallway, robes billowing behind me, desperate to put as much distance as possible between me, Theo.
The thoughts I harbored about Theo, well, they were borderline scandalous – even for the often-unconventional wizarding world. Wet dreams were a daily torment, a vivid tapestry woven with stolen glances and the memory of his low chuckle. Even the most mundane tasks became infused with Theo. Daydreams, unwelcome and potent, hijacked my mind, filling it with images of his strong arms wrapped around me, the feel of his warm skin against mine, and those lips... oh Merlin, his lips. The very thought of them sent a jolt through me, leaving me breathless and yearning.
It was a full-blown obsession. Every interaction, every stolen glance, was a spark that ignited a wildfire within me. I envisioned stolen touches, whispered secrets, a clandestine world where it was just us. These "visions," as I'd begun calling them, were both exhilarating and terrifying. Had I lost my mind?
Looking at him was like staring into the sun – an act both beautiful and blinding. I craved his attention, yet recoiled from it in equal measure, afraid of what it might reveal – both about him and the depth of my own desires.
The moment I reached the solitude of my dorm room, I threw myself onto my bed, burying my face in the soft pillow. It was just me and the storm raging within. Seeking a semblance of control, I reached for my most trusted companion – my sketchbook. Flipping to a blank page, I did what had become a nightly ritual: I drew Theo.
His face materialized on the page with practiced ease – the sharp angles of his jaw, the way his eyebrows quirked slightly when he was amused, the intensity of his gaze that seemed to pierce right through me. Each stroke was infused with a longing so deep it ached. As I added the final details, a desperate thought crossed my mind – what if, somehow, magically, drawing him like this would bring him closer? A ridiculous notion, even for a witch like me. But a girl can dream, right?
The drawing complete, I flipped back through the pages, revisiting the countless iterations of Theo that filled my sketchbook. Each one a silent testament to my growing obsession. A pang of guilt stabbed at me as I traced the outline of his lips in one particular sketch. Here I was, feeling like I'd committed a sin, when in reality, our interactions hadn't even reached the stage of a stolen touch.
A frustrated groan escaped my lips. This was madness. Yet, as I drifted off to sleep that night, the sketchbook remained tucked under my pillow, a silent guardian of my unrequited affection.
The next day, the weight of my secret world pressed down on me like a lead blanket.
My usual bubbly demeanor was replaced by a forced smile and a dull ache in my chest. The boys exchanged worried glances, their questions a constant reminder of the truth I couldn't share.
Mumbling an unconvincing excuse about feeling unwell, I escaped the classroom the moment the bell rang, desperate for some fresh air and a moment of solitude.
Once I was finally away from everyone I grabbed my bag, then it happened, panic clawed at my throat as I realized my sketchbook was missing.
I scoured my bag again, desperately searching every compartment, but it was nowhere to be found. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I carried that sketchbook everywhere, afraid of someone stumbling upon my secret world.
Fear morphed into a cold dread as I retraced my steps, hoping it had simply fallen out of my bag somewhere.
The thought of someone, anyone, seeing my drawings, especially Theo… the very notion sent a fresh wave of terror coursing through me.
I retraced my steps, combing through the classroom once more, a desperate hope clinging to the edges of my despair. But it was futile. The sketchbook was nowhere to be found. My mind raced, picturing prying eyes and whispered secrets. This was a disaster.
Just then, a familiar voice cut through the rising tide of panic. "Searching for something, Y/L/N?"
I spun around so fast I nearly toppled over, my eyes widening as they landed on Theo. A self-assured smirk played on his lips, and in his hand, he dangled my precious sketchbook.
"Theo!" I gasped, the sound strangled and desperate. My cheeks burned with a mixture of mortification and a strange, exhilarating thrill.
Instead of listening to my frantic plea, he held the sketchbook just out of reach, the amusement in his eyes deepening. "Such beautiful secrets you keep hidden, Love."
The blood drained from my face. "Give it back to me, Theodore," I demanded, my voice surprisingly steady despite the tremor in my hands.
He chuckled, a low, beautiful sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Not so fast, love. Perhaps there's something in here that warrants a little… negotiation."
Frustration bubbled up inside me. I lunged for the sketchbook, my fingers brushing against his hand. But he easily outmatched me, holding it high above my head. The height difference was agonizing.
"Give it back!" I hissed, my voice laced with desperation.
A slow smile spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with something I couldn't decipher. Then, before I could react, his other hand shot out, landing firmly on my waist.
A gasp escaped my lips as a jolt of electricity shot through me at his touch. He used the momentum to pull me closer, turning us around so that my back slammed against the cool surface of the empty classroom door my eyes widened when he locked it. My breath hitched in my throat as his warm body pressed against mine.
His face was inches from mine, his breath tickling my ear. "Now," he murmured, his voice a husky rumble that sent a delicious shiver down my spine, "Care to explain what is it about?”
"No "I say "Just give it back!"
Instead of replying, he pulled away, placing the sketchbook on a nearby table with a soft thud. I made a move to grab it, but he was faster. With a single, smooth motion, he used one hand to capture both of mine, pinning them above my head against the cold, unforgiving surface of the door.
His touch sent a jolt through me, a current that both terrified and excited me. His gaze was intense, boring into mine, and suddenly his earlier amusement was replaced by something else entirely.
"So," he said, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down my spine.
"you just decided to ignore my entire existence? The social butterfly with all her friends, suddenly giving me the cold shoulder or vanishing into thin air whenever I'm around. Then I find out you've been drawing me… like a hundred times? Which by the way I'm not complaining about but— ," he added, "but seriously, Y/N, what have I done that you can't bear to stay in the same room with me for a minute?"
His words hit me like a physical blow. Shame burned through me, hot and fierce. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice barely a choked sob, my eyes desperately seeking the floor.
"Look at me, love," he commanded, a gentle firmness in his voice.
Slowly, I lifted my gaze to meet his. His face was unreadable, a mixture of concern and something else – something that made my heart skip a beat.
"Good girl," he murmured, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Now, say it. What have I done to make you hate me that much?"
"It's the opposite," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. The words tumbled out before I could stop them, fueled by a desperate need for him to understand. "I like you, Theo. A lot. Those feelings… they're so intense, so confusing, and I just don't know how to act around you. I see you and I freak out. I can't breathe, my heart races and then those unholy thoes…" My voice cracked, and tears welled up in my eyes.
He leaned closer, his hand brushing a stray tear from my cheek. "Breathe, my love," he whispered, his voice gentle, his touch sending sparks dancing across my skin. "Breathe."
I did, taking a shaky breath, closing my eyes as his face came closer. His touch was everywhere – on my cheek, my neck, his warm breath against my lips. "Are you mad?" I whispered, barely audible.
A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Quite the opposite," he murmured, his lips brushing mine with a feather-light touch. Then, in one swift movement, he closed the distance between us, his lips meeting mine in a kiss that was both electrifying and grounding.
His hands gripped my hips, lifting me off the floor effortlessly. I gasped as I looked into his eyes, seeing the raw desire burning within them. "You smell so good," he murmured, his lips finding my neck. His stubble tickled my sensitive skin, sending shivers down my spine.
"You know those thoughts you talked about," he continued, placing soft kisses along my jawline. "I have similar thoughts too."
I moaned as he sucked on my earlobe, my head falling back to give him more access. His lips moved down to my neck, his tongue tracing a path along my collarbone.
His hands tightened on my hips, and I could feel his erection pressing against me. I couldn't help but grind against him, feeling his length rub against my clit through our clothes.
"I want to leave marks on your skin, so everyone knows you're mine," Theo growled, his lips moving down to my neck. His tongue traced a path along my collarbone, and I shivered with delight.
"Yours?" I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes, baby. Mine. And those fuckers need to know this," he said, I couldn't help but smile. I knew they had been teasing him for how I had been ignoring him.
His lips traced a path along my collarbone, his tongue leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I shivered with delight as his hand gripped my hair, pulling me to him he looked at my eyes for a second then kissed me. His lips were soft and eager, and I couldn't help but respond.
He turned me around his head on my shoulder "Tell me your deepest fantasy. I'll make it a reality for you,"
His hands went inside my skirt, and I felt his fingers on my thighs. "Can I touch you?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. I nodded, my breath hitching in my throat.
“ oh Merlin “ I say my whole body shaking his finger rubbing circles on my clit fast then slow making me losing my mind
“ not Merlin baby me say my name, do i make you feel good ? “ he say in my ear
“ yes Theo oh yes you do “ I say my body still shaking .
"Do you want me to be rough with you, or gentle?" He asked, his finger sliding inside me. I gasped, holding onto his arms for support.
"No one has touched you like this before, baby?" He asked. I shook my head, unable to trust myself to respond without screaming.
"Good, and no one else will," He said, his fingers moving inside me. I felt myself getting closer to the edge, my whole body tensing up.
"I love how you arch your back when I do this. You're so responsive," He said, his fingers moving faster inside me. I screamed, my whole body shaking with pleasure.
He put his hand over my mouth, muffling my cries "Shhh” He said, his voice soothing.
I felt it happening. My whole body shook, and if not for his strong arm around me, I would have fallen. I screamed with his hand still on my mouth. I came for the first time in my life, and oh lord, it felt like heaven.
"You did so good for me, baby. So good."
Put his fingers in his mouth, savoring my taste. "I love the way you taste, the way you smell. You're like a drug to me,".
He picked me up, setting me on the desk. pushed the books and papers aside, his eyes never leaving mine. Then he pulled me to the edge of the desk, his hands on my thighs.
"Is this like your fantasies?".
"No," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "It’s much better."
His lips were on my inner thighs in an instant, his tongue tracing a path up to my panties. He pulled them down, his fingers grazing my skin. My breath came in short gasps.
"Do you want me to use my fingers or my tongue? Or maybe both?"
His tongue found my clit, and I moaned as he licked and sucked, his fingers exploring my wet folds. I grabbed onto the edge of the desk, my legs shaking.
Theo pulled back, his eyes meeting mine. He reached for a pen on the desk, pulling it towards him. wrote "mine" on my inner thigh, his eyes locked on mine.
His fingers slid back inside me. I moaned again, my hips bucking against his hand.
His tongue found my clit once again , and I moaned louder this time. He sucked and licked, his fingers moving inside me in a steady rhythm. I could feel my orgasm building for the second time.
"Oh, Theo," I moaned, my hips bucking against his hand.
He moved his fingers faster, his tongue lashing against my clit. I cried out as my orgasm crashed over me again.
He pulled away, making his way up to kiss me. I was shaking in his arms, but he wrapped them around me, making me feel safe and comfortable.
As I trembled in his arms, He held me close, his embrace warm and comforting. He gently brushed my hair away from my face, kissing my forehead tenderly.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice full of admiration and love.
I rested my head on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The intensity of the moment began to fade, replaced by a soft, soothing calm. Theo's hands traced gentle circles on my back, his touch reassuring and tender.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly, concern evident in his eyes.
I nodded, feeling a smile tug at my lips. "I'm more than okay. Thank you."
He smiled back, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Theo, I need to tell you something,” I said, my fingers tracing the lines of his jaw.
He looked at me with those deep, caring eyes, waiting patiently.
“I love you,” I whispered. “I don’t mean to scare you with it now, but I’ve been holding it to myself for too long and I wanted you to know.”
A smile spread across his face, and he leaned in to kiss me softly, his lips curing my words. “You don’t have to anymore,” he said, his voice a soothing balm to my fears. He looked into my eyes, his expression sincere. “I love you, and I will prove it to you every single day.”
Tears welled up in my eyes, not of sadness, but of overwhelming relief and happiness. “Promise you won’t hurt me?” I asked, my voice small and vulnerable.
“Never, baby,” he said, pulling me closer. “I promise. I will never hurt you. I’ll always be here for you.”
I buried my face in his chest, letting his warmth and words envelop me, my gaze wandered to the ink on my thigh. The word "mine" stood out boldly, a possessive claim that made me giggle despite the seriousness of everything that had just happened.
Theo noticed and raised an eyebrow. "What’s so funny?" he asked, a playful smile tugging at his lips.
I pointed to the makeshift tattoo. “This. ‘Mine.’ You really went all out, didn’t you?”
He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You bet I did. I had to make sure those fuckers know you’re off limits from now on.”
I laughed, “Oh, I’m sure they’ll get the message loud and clear.”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
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divine-donna · 2 months
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all you need is more radaway
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save a horse. ride a cowboy. ;)
anyways i really loved the tv show and i love the game. and ghouls are just chef's kiss. or maybe that's because i love monsters. sad that i finished it so quickly. :(
perhaps i can put what i learned in my western class to good use lol
character: cooper howard aka. the ghoul
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it's never easy surviving the wasteland. you don't know how you managed to survive for this long. perhaps because you seemed to have been blessed with incredible luck.
and building up endurance, of course.
you felt little to no side effects from the radiation of the food you were eating. which just meant you had a lot of radaway and rad-x stocked up.
to make ends meet, though, you had to start hunting. scavenging and scrapping by wasn't enough. you needed the extra caps.
thus your rivalry with another bounty hunter was born.
"well, well. aren't you far from home, sweetheart?"
you were used to comments about your outfit. a vault suit. yes, you came from one. you had been exiled after your father was revealed to be managing the experiment behind it. the child pays for the sins of the father always.
"you're not the first and you won't be the last." you pull the head off the body as clean as possible.
"now i don't know if you should do that."
"and why not?"
a bullet flies past you and burrows itself into the ground. you finally look up. a cowboy hat. the face of a ghoul. his gun pointing right at you.
but you weren't afraid.
"because he's my target." he pulls out a piece of paper. "and he's mine."
"seems unfair if i did all the work. and you just collect his head and the prize." you pull out the same piece of paper. yours is a little more worn out though. and covered in dried blood.
"that's the way of the wasteland sweetheart."
"if you believe so."
your hands were fast. two bullets lodged into his right left and when he looks up, you're gone.
of course, you learned from the best: western holotapes. you really liked them when you were growing up. claimed to want to be a lone hero.
in some ways, you were. the wasteland was just a new version of the wild west, wasn't it?
"spaghetti? like...the pasta?"
more like spaghetti western. he knew that, of course. but no one in the wasteland knew what a spaghetti western was. they were remnants of a past long gone and one only accessible by holotapes in the vaults.
"that's their name." the person says. "why? you have business with them?"
"perhaps." the ghoul was looking to return a favor.
"don't even try. they're far more formidable than you think."
"we'll see about that."
your rivalry was an exchange of bullets, more often than not. thankfully, you always stocked up on bloodbags and could make a stimpack from your heavy (but useful) travel chemistry kit. you were smart like that.
surprisingly, it became something to look forward. mostly because the ghoul preferred if he tried killing you, so he managed to get you out of a tough situation by killing the other people trying to kill you.
and you returned the favor. there was something satisfying about lodging a bullet into him again.
unfortunately, this left you two stuck on a job once. captured by raiders. you had been knocked out with a drug. and he had collapsed from...something.
"fuck." you mutter, pulling at the ropes binding you. your luck had run out for the day it seems, because your arms were tied to the ghoul's around this godforsaken pole. the metal was also uncomfortably rubbing up against your skin.
"you got a knife or anything sharp?" he looks over at you. it's rare to see him without his cowboy hat. his head was rather smooth.
you chuckle a little.
"something funny?" the ghoul asks.
"nothing. you're just...shaped like an egg."
"very funny."
"let me guess. your answer is no?"
"i don't have a knife up my sleeve, sadly. think they took it."
"shame." the ghoul shimmies something out of his own sleeve. he flicks the blade out and begins sawing at the rope. "watch your fingers."
you keep your fingers tucked in. eventually, the rope on your wrists comes undone and one arm soon after. the rest comes off and you rub your skin. "fuck these guys. always hated raiders."
"well, we both got sold out. we need to find that thing now. or else we'll be dead by sunrise." he tugs on the door of the jail cell and clicks his tongue.
"i don't have sharp objects. but i do have these." you pull out the bobby pin taped on the inside of your sleeve, alongside a mini screwdriver.
the lock wasn't very complicated, so you picked it with ease.
as you both are grabbing your equipment, you hear footsteps up above. light ones and heavier ones. and the sound of a muffled, altered, robotic voice.
the brotherhood of steel was worse than raiders, honestly.
"you go left, i go right. how does that sound?"
"i don't usually like taking orders from my rivals." he reloads his gun. "but for you? sure."
the event left the both of you soaked in the blood of your enemies. on the other hand, you guys left with plenty of loot and an idea of where your target was: dead. at the bottom of a lake.
it was a journey to get there, wherein you learned the details of each other's lives. you didn't think he was paying much attention to your sentences. after all, you came from a vault.
and yet, you saw a hint of sympathy in his eyes.
he seemed less keen on sharing details about his life, aside from his former name. cooper howard.
undeniably, as a fan of westerns, you recognized his names. from the holotapes.
"they had those?" cooper shakes his head, taking sips of water. "no way."
"yes way! it's where i learned to shoot."
"from watching my movies?"
"yes!"
"that is...a pleasant surprise." cooper leans back.
"that also makes you over 200 years old."
"that it does. something wrong with that?"
"no. the wasteland changes people." you maintain your attention to your suit, sewing a tear up. "just...you're looking for something, aren't you? everyone's always looking for something up here."
"are you looking for something?" his voice hardens and he sits up straight.
"i was. and then i found it. and i stopped." you tie the thread to seal the stitch and then tear the thread with your teeth. "i hope you find what you're looking for though."
"well, that's awfully kind of you, sweetheart."
"i have a name, you know."
"what is it?"
"(y/n)."
getting personal in the wasteland was something cooper wasn't adamant about. but the circumstances seems to call for it.
"guess we're even now."
the body of water was daunting. it was murky and dark. you pursed your lips and dumped your bag. "well. guess we have no choice."
cooper looks over at you then quickly turns around when he sees what you're doing: taking off your suit and going down to your underwear. "what are you doing?"
"i'm going to go get that head. that's how we get paid, right? easy three thousand caps. 15 hundred split evenly." you stretch.
"i think you might die."
"i'll be fine. i've done it before." Aquaperson perk.
"i can also swim, you know."
"i'll be fine cooper." you pop a rad-x pill just in case. "be back in a bit."
you dive like a swan, making minimal splash into the water. your form disappears beneath the darkness.
you're gone beneath the water for over an hour. cooper's heart was beating against his rib cage. you should be out by now. it should not be that hard. did something get you? things lurked beneath the murky waters always.
"fuck!"
he drops his equipment and begins stripping down, until he is just in his pants. he would need to dive after you. if you were dead, then so be it. it was fun while it lasted.
suddenly, you emerge. you take in the oxygen of the surface and hold the head up high. "got 'em." you swim over to the shore and walk out of the water.
there was something about how...wet you were that got him feeling hot and bothered.
"something happen down there?"
"couple of mirelurks. no big deal. which reminds me." you set the head on the ground and go back into the water. within minutes, you're pulling out the bodies of the mirelurks you had killed. "dinner."
while cutting the mirelurks open, you observe the way he walks around you. his muscles bulging a little as he cuts a mirelurk open and takes the meat. he was kind of...attractive?
"were you going to come after me?" he stops cutting hearing your question. "in the water, i mean."
"so what if i did?" cooper averts his eyes.
"that's sweet of you. i didn't know you had a soft spot for me."
"i don't."
"sure." you can tell he was lying through his teeth.
dinner was a nice, cozy meal. it was delicious. a nice surprise considering the nature of the wasteland.
cooper notices the way you're looking at him. and he looks at you the same way.
though how does this work exactly?
"do you want to..." you try to find a decent way to say this. fuck is a good term. but it felt a little vulgar in the moment.
cooper already knows what you're asking. "absolutely. if you can handle it." he smirks.
it's so cute when he smirks.
you glance over at your bag, looking at your stash of radaway. you had plenty. plus your stash of rad-x too.
"i absolutely can."
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candyskiez · 9 months
Text
so, you've heard shows be recommended because they had gay characters. you don't really know what they're actually about though, and don't know if they'd be something you'd be into and are worried about spoilers. here's spoiler free plot summaries of em!
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The Owl House
The Owl House starts out as a typical teenage girl goes into a fantasy realm story, but with a twist. Actions have consequences. The protagonist is a girl named Luz Noceda, who was being sent to a camp to make her behave normally by her mother after causing too much trouble at school. She ends up finding a place she's always dreamed of: a fantasy world. A world where everyone's so much weirder than she is. And she thinks, maybe if I don't belong out there, maybe people will like me here. Maybe I can be special here.
It's a story about found family, propaganda, erased history, living with disability, religious trauma, and neurodivergence. It's fundamentally a show about people who's brains work differently finding each other and making a family that treats them right. Definitely my favorite of the ones on this list. It's about people who've been oppressed being pissed about it and about finding yourself again after giving up on everyone around you for so long. It's basically a show about being a minority and trying to be understood and to understand yourself in the process. It's about growing up neurodivergent and how isolating it feels and figuring yourself out. It's about repairing broken relationships and parents who fuck up. And it's just. Such a love letter to anyone who was the weird kid in school. It's sad and heartbreaking and also so hopeful, and it's wonderful.
Content warnings: Abuse, Death, Grief, Animal Death, Suicidal thoughts, Vague suicide attempts, Depression, blink and you'll miss it s/h, body horror, religious trauma
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She Ra and the Princesses Of Power
Adora was raised in the Horde since she was a baby, being fed propaganda about how cruel the princesses were. After learning how the horde actually was, though, she defects. But there's one problem. Her best friend, Catra, stays behind. Adora finds a sword that can transform her into She Ra, and might be the key to figuring out who she really is, while Catra takes her place as force captain.
It's a story about abuse, at the end of the day. Adora and Catra were stuck in a golden child and scapegoat dynamic, despite how much they care about each other. This leads to them knowing everything about each other but not understanding it. There's a fundamental disconnect between them, because both of their traumas are completely different. They have complete misconceptions about each other. Even in their initial split, they both have completely different perceptions of what's going on and why the other is upset. It's not a story about magic princesses, it's about the cycle of abuse and what makes it so complicated. Does it have flaws? Yeah. But ultimately I really really enjoy it, and when it does something right it does something RIGHT. Get through season one, it starts kids show-y but it gets very good during later s1.
Content warnings: Abuse (obviously), body horror, gaslighting (and I mean actual gaslighting, not what the Internet thinks gaslighting is), suicide, depression, flashing lights and eyestrain during the finale
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Steven Universe
Steven Universe is a sins of the father story. Steven is the son of the leader of the rebel group The Crystal Gems, who's name was Rose Quartz. He navigates the confusion of being half gem and half human, as well as trying to figure out the mess of the rebellion and what his mother left behind. He's constantly in her shadow, for better or for worse.
It's a story about grief. How it impacts relationships, how it taints history, how it impacts family. It has some definite flaws, but ultimately it's about very flawed people who have lost so many people in their life trying to cope with it. Trying to handle what they lost and trying to adjust to life without them. It's about how expectations fuck a kid up and about agency and just a show about complicated relationships in general, at the end of the day. Also, it has some FANTASTIC music.
Content warnings: Grief, Abuse, body horror, very creepy people I don't know how to tag, heavy allegories for homophobia
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Nimona
Nimona is a story about a guy who gets framed for murder. His name is Ballister Boldheart, a commoner who hoped to become a knight. It seemed everyone was waiting to watch him fail, so it was no surprise when he was the immediate target. Heavily injured and away from the man he loves, he's left alone trying to figure out a way to prove his innocence- until a strange kid comes into his life. This kids name is Nimona, and while he is intent on proving his innocence, she gave up on being anything but a villain a long time ago.
It's about deconstructing the model minority myth, trans rage, propaganda, and with a healthy dose of "FUCK the police".
Content warnings: Heavy injury, on screen suicide attempt, flashing lights
feel free to add more shows! just remember to keep the summaries as spoiler free as you can and add content warnings!
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beautyinsage · 7 months
Text
wants and needs
you got married because it was convenient — why not enjoy the benefits that come with it?
gojo x reader.
cw: arranged marriage au, you don't particularly like each other but the sex is good, (yes you've had sex before), (no this is not an enemies to lovers type beat), (more like just good sex between two people who happen to be married!), banter, sexual tension, lowk public-sex public-flirtation, unprotected sex, maaajor exhibition kink
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"what the hell are you doing here?”
“last time i checked, sweetheart, the invitation was addressed to mr. and mrs. gojo satoru.”
"that wasn't the question."
"and yet, that's my answer."
you tsk your tongue in annoyance. “i told you that i would take care of this one.” that's what always happens. you and your husband aren't particularly fond of these soirees—him more so than you—and you often switch off on being the representative. never before have the two of you attended the same event. that is, until now.
satoru raised an eyebrow in amusement at your attitude. “yeah? well if you hadn't rushed out of the house this morning, you would know that i was coming and i could’ve picked you up on the way. shame.” you roll your eyes and start to move away, but he snakes an arm around your waist, shifting so he can lower his mouth to your ear. “though, the delay did have its perks—the dress compliments you beautifully.”
you cheeks warm, but you stare straight ahead, your voice far more nonchalant than you felt, “really? that’s good. you paid for it.”
he pulls back, and he meets your smirk with an amused grin, “oh? get yourself a few more then.” his hand then shifts upward, and you feel his thumb swipe over your breast lightly: subtle to a viewer, but as subtle as a gun to your nerves. despite your shock at his boldness, you have to resist the overwhelming urge to press into him.
part of you wanted to be furious. you were in public. at a high-class function. with everyone you could possibly know all in one room. he was insane.
but… on the other hand—
his thumb swipes over your breast again, this time pressing the slightest bit harder.
—it was all so incredibly hot. 
“satoru—“ you whisper, every inch of your skin burning as you wanted to be closercloser—
“did you know that you only call me by my name when you’re pissed off or you want me to fuck you? in this moment, it actually seems like it’s both,” he snickers menacingly, and you open your mouth, ready to snap at him, when one of the elders approaches him.
“gojo-san! you show up twenty minutes late to an event we specifically told you not to be late for—“
satoru laughs easily, completely pretending as if he hadn't just promised you the most sinful things. he slips his hand back down to your lower waist before effortlessly engaging with the man’s griping. 
gulping lightly, you refocus, blurring out the impossible want flowing through your veins, and paste on the realest fake smile you can muster. you just need to get through the night.
-
you did actually get through the night. most of it anyways.
the whole event went smoothly. the heat was practically palpable between you and satoru, but both of you kept your cool until it was over.
but now, skip ahead, when you're driving home: the two of you were in a car, in the back seat, sitting on opposite sides, both looking straight ahead.
hence the "most of it" part.
now, all that felt palpable was the awkwardness. the haze of lust and want demanded attention, and any attempt of deflection would not be tolerated. and yet, you were stuck, in a car, with satoru — well, satoru and your driver.
you bounced your knee as you impatiently checked for the millionth time to see if you were any closer to home. 
(you weren’t.)
these were the moments that you wished you could just warp home with him—damn the awful migraines that result from it—but you knew satoru would never allow it without good reason (unfortunately, sex is not a good enough reason for him).
desperate to fill the silence and pass the time, you look over to the person driving you home.
“different driver today?” you ask satoru, tense as you squeeze your legs together, pressing as close to the side door as possible.
“ah, yeah, gave ijichi the day off today.”
“oh,” you murmur, your tone almost introspective as you glance at him for a second, “interesting.”
there’s a terse pause, where satoru looks at you intensely as you fix your gaze straight. his eyes don’t leave the side of your face as he says to the driver, “haru? roll up the partition please, thank you.”
the divider goes up and silence engulfs the two of you. satoru shamelessly breaks it, calling your name knowingly. you refuse to take his bait and continue to stare straight ahead. 
he says it once more, dragging out the last syllable as he leans closer. 
you huff, turning your head, but your indignant response falls short under his gaze. 
you knew that look. 
it was the look that you thought about on the more lonely nights, in your bedroom with your fingers between your thighs. it was the look that made you melt, made you always crawl back for more. it was the look that meant that he wanted to fuck you—now. 
(you also knew, with that look? it was only a matter of time before you said yes.)
unable to form any words, you simply nod your head, and then he is on you. he grips the side of your face and brings his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. 
his hand moves to grope roughly at your breast, squeezing slightly. you break away to choke out a moan, and he presses his lips down your neck. moving quickly, he pulls down the strap of your dress to expose your very thin bra. impatient as ever, his mouth is on your nipple through the fabric, and you whimper and press closer to him. 
your eyes fall shut as you bask in the lust. it was always him. only he could reduce you to this. 
grabbing your opposite leg, satoru shifts you onto his lap, a hand gently guiding your head so you wouldn’t bump it as you adjusted. your dress’ skirt pooled around the two of you, and with both hands, he grinds you down onto him. your barely clothed clit makes contact with his cock straining against his trousers. 
you fly forward, muffling your moans against satoru’s neck as he rocks you against him. he snickers lightly, shifting you down for a second so he could unbutton his pants and pull down his briefs slightly. his cock was ready for you, practically pulsing in his hand. “you know baby, the partition is soundproof. you can be as loud as you want.” he strokes himself a few times before pressing his tip against your clit, teasing lightly. “unless, of course, you wish that it wasn’t?” 
you want to protest, to tell him to shut up and go to hell, but all that escapes a surprised moan as he lifts you, swipes your panties to one side, and presses you back down to his cock. 
you both moan at the feeling, the tension haunting you the entire night making it so that all he had to do was simply slip into you. god, it felt like you could feel every inch of him — and you couldn’t get enough. “satoru—“ you whine, thrusting shallowly, trying to get more friction.
“what?” he says satirically, caressing his fingers up and down the length of your back.
you glare, and although you’re sure your pout and blushing cheeks take away from the intimidation factor you were going for, his gaze softens.
“oh sweetheart, i’m being too mean. let me fix that.”
nothing in this world could have prepared you for what was next, because next thing you knew, the man was fucking up into you perfectly, stroking you just right, grinding you down onto him flawlessly. your hiccups of pleasure were leaving you before you could stop them, and you gripped a hand into his hair as the other dug into his expensive suit jacket desperately—with the way your nails latched on, you wouldn't be surprised if a bill was waiting for you in the morning (it's okay—you both knew you would never pay it).
“god, you’re so fucking sexy baby,” he mumbles, sounding practically drunk as he speaks, “make me wanna fuck you in front of everyone today—make me wanna show everyone how good you are for me. how good you always are. you’d like that, wouldn't you?”
embarrassment was apparently thrown out the window three blocks ago because you sob out a wanton yes and squeeze him tightly. you feel yourself climb exponentially higher.
“ohh, baby, you like that, don’t you? you want me to show them who you belong to? or do you want to show everyone who i belong to hmm?”
he laughs breathily as you conveniently decline to answer, focusing more on the rapidly approaching peak, “that’s okay sweetheart, i’m yours. and you’re mine. my little wife, understood? now be good and take my cum.”
it was over before you could stop it. you stutter out a brief “satoru— c-cumming!” before you shatter, mouth falling open as you breathe in little gasps. clenching tightly, your hips start to jerk as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.
the sudden tightness makes satoru curse as his thrusts get impossibly harder, head tilting back as he chases his high. “fuck—fuck, gonna cum, gonna fucking cum—ah, ah—fuck i’m cumming—“
his lips immediately latch onto yours as he climaxes, groaning as he paints your walls with his cum, and you both work each other down from your respective highs. 
the car feels suddenly quiet as both your gentle pants fill the air. your eyes meet, and you're suddenly reminded that this man is your husband. what he offers you isn't a want — it's a need.
you need your husband. there's no one else who can do this—no one else who can make you feel this alive.
suddenly, satoru's eyes widen and a pained groan escapes him. “fuck, i’m going to have to fire this guy.”
you raise an eyebrow at him, confused at first, but then you realize. panic mixed with embarrassment mixed with an inexplicable aftershock of pleasure begins to bloom inside your chest.
“yeah,” he admits, scratching his head almost innocently, “i lied. the divider isn’t soundproof.” 
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Text
The Bolter (part five)
Steve Rogers x f!reader / (Bucky Barnes x f!reader)
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synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?
in this chapter : In present day, the reader and Bucky get closer - will one of them finally slip up? We also see what happened in 2018, during the battle in Wakanda.
themes/warnings : pining, unrequited love, Bucky dealing with ptsd, brief mention of violence, language
word count : <2k
masterlist ▪︎ previous chapter ▪︎ next chapter
📝 a little bit of an explanation on the timeline : 2016 - Civil War ▪︎ 2017 - post Civil War / Steve and reader on the run ▪︎ early 2018 - Infinity War ▪︎ 2018 to 2023 - the lost years / post-snap ▪︎ late 2023 - Endgame / Steve's departure ▪︎ 2024 - present day / Falcon and the Winter Soldier period ▪︎ 1950s - where Steve went back
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2024, seven months after Steve's departure
You win. Again.
By now, you're convinced Bucky is actually letting you win in Battleship. Each guess he made had been wrong, so it must be deliberate.
"James Buchanan Barnes," you sigh.
His lips form a sly smirk. He isn't even trying to deny it.
You reach across and lightly shove his non-vibranium arm. "It's no fun if there's no challenge."
He shrugs, "Maybe I like the way you react when you win. You get so... expressive." Another smirk. Damn him.
What could possibly be so amusing about the way you practically screeched and stuck your tongue at him the first time you won?
"Yeah, but you let me win four times in a row."
"Deal with it, doll."
"You suck."
He grimaces, "Suck?"
Right. You keep forgetting he is an very old, very ancient centenarian.
"It's an expression."
Something flashes across his face, and you can't really make out what it is. "Do you suck, too?"
"What?" you exclaim. "I just said it's an expression. It means you're annoying."
He holds your gaze for a moment, before laughing, eyes visibly crinkling at the corners. "I'm messing with you, doll. I know what that means. I'm old, not unaware."
Damn him again.
And damn the way the rare instances of his laughter is slowly growing to be a thing you yearn for. Bucky has a playful side, you've come to realize. You get this feeling of lightness, because you're proud of him. The more it comes out, the more it shows how much he has healed.
You blink at him, shaking your head, before bursting into laughter yourself.
Damn it all to hell.
It takes a beat for you to collect yourselves.
Then for a second, it's there. That fleeting shift in his expression. A pinch in his eyebrows giving way to a look of shame. Just for a moment, his mind drifts back to the long list of names in his notebook. To Yori's son. To the crimson in his ledger.
You notice, and you don't hesitate in taking his hand, squeezing gently. "Hey," you say, catching his attention. "I'm glad we get to do this."
I'm glad I have you.
Glancing down at your hand wrapped around his, he smiles, slowly, like a sun rising and casting its glow over the horizon.
"Let's play one more time," Bucky says as he begins rearranging the pieces on his side.
You were about to protest, but then he adds, "I won't let you win, I swear."
Fifteen minutes later, you do indeed win again. He laughs at the incredulous expression that must be plastered on your face.
You take it. Because maybe you did win, fair and square.
Or maybe because his laughter feels like winning.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
The days have blurred into weeks and into months.
It feels like time is passing quickly, every second feels less and less like the lash of a whip, reminding Bucky of past pains. Of loss. Of all his sins.
Life almost feels normal. The kind of normal he is afforded in his life, at least.
Sessions with his court-mandated therapist. You. Dinners with Yori, desperately unable to tell him the truth. You. Sleepless nights, glimpses of his darkness haunting him. You. Sleepless nights, tempting images of you.
Behind all the laughter and the times you would spend playing Battleship on the floor of his barely furnished apartment, Bucky gets a sense of something gnawing at him. Something not unfamiliar, but unwelcome all the while.
It's fear. He has something to lose, once more. A friend or a kindred spirit. Whatever else you will find in each other. It's there and it's real, and it makes him feel like Bucky again.
He doesn't want to lose it, whatever it is. He's already lost Steve.
He's not going to lose you too.
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early 2018, Infinity War
After you and Steve left the cabin, it's like the universe was sent a go-ahead signal of some sort.
The world slowly descended into chaos, and the Avengers were needed back into the fold.
Your group had to rush to Scotland to rescue Wanda and Vision. Then it was back to the Avengers compound.
"You think all is forgiven?" Senator Ross asked, the threat evident in his tone. "You think you can just walk back in here like nothing happened? Romanoff has been leading my team on some wild goose chase - "
Natasha merely scoffs, unamused.
" - and Huntress has been actively aiding and abetting her fellow fugitives around the globe."
You were about to say something snarky, but Steve had already taken a step forward, partially shielding you from Ross' view.
"We're not looking for forgiveness, and we're way past asking permission," Steve declared.
In that time, life became drastically different from your days in Alaska. You barely had a moment of repose, worried about the fate of the world.
But you found comfort in the blonde super soldier who was constantly hovering over you. His eyes would meet yours before a decision would be made. His hand sometimes pressed at the small of your back as you walked beside him. Time and again, you found him watching you, a silent question in his eyes. You'd nod back, I'm okay.
You didn't notice, but in one of those moments, Wanda had witnessed the exchange.
And she felt it. That something. Much like what she has with Vision.
But it just wasn't the right time.
It is a bit hard to face the truth that you might be in love when the whole world is burning.
"I guess this is our normal, after all," you wistfully remarked to him one evening, after everyone else had left. The plans were laid. You all were to go to Wakanda the next day.
Steve felt a sense of bitterness arising from him upon hearing your words. It really isn't fair. He has always done everything right, but he's losing count of how many joys he's had to sacrifice.
He lost everyone once. His mom, his sister, Bucky, his fellow soldiers, Dr. Erskine, Peggy. He'd buried himself in ice, only to wake up again in a world that wasn't his anymore.
What else does he have to lose, who else, before he is finally allowed to be happy?
His smile was pained when he replied, "I think I figured out the kind of normal I want."
Despite your exhaustion, you smiled back and curiously asked, "Oh yeah?"
Steve hopelessly tried to commit you to memory. The lilt in your voice, the shape of your lips. That undying spark in your eyes, which remained even when everything was cast in gloom.
Just in case he would wake up one day and find his whole world taken from him once more.
"Yeah," he finally said.
The world is ablaze, but he's grown used to it. He knew he would lay his life down on the line again if that means it would be saved.
But everything be damned, he allowed himself one selfish thought when he confessed, "We never should have left that cabin."
I'm in love with you, were the words caught in his throat. His heart screamed it, yearning to be heard.
And you did.
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It was a cruel twist of fate. But Thanos deemed it destiny.
Was it always meant to happen? Were they always meant to lose?
Steve didn't know how long he stayed on the ground next to the pile of ashes that used to be his best friend.
Bucky was gone.
Steve barely heard the screams. Anguished voices calling out the names of their friends, still searching.
All that would have been unbearable. The sounds of distress enough to drive one mad. But Steve heard nothing. He had nothing.
It's not fair. Inside, he felt like that sickly kid who was always dealt the worst hand. It does feel like he's a kid again, petulant and angry. It's not fair, he thought over and over, I don't deserve this.
Bring Bucky back to me.
Maybe it was all his fault. Maybe if he never took that damned serum... maybe... maybe...
"Cap," he heard someone break him out of his haze. Rhodey stood to the side. "Steve," he repeated, pleading, but Steve still could not find the strength to get up.
Then from the distance, he heard Natasha calling out for you. He stumbled to his feet, his head spinning. Casting one last glance at the spot where Bucky vanished, he turned and started running.
He found Natasha immediately, but not you.
"Where is she?" Steve growled, and his voice sounded rougher than he's ever heard before. Natasha would have recoiled in surprise, if she didn't possess nerves of steel.
"I'm looking," Natasha snapped impatiently. You would have been her loss too.
Steve felt as if he had already scoured through the whole field twice, his body threatening to just give in and crumble to the ground once more, as the hope of finding you dimmed.
Then he heard your faint voice, weak and weary, standing out among all the others.
"Steve?" There you stood, your face half-covered in dried blood and soot. "Did we lose?"
He swiveled around and took you in, a deep breath of helpless relief exiting his lungs. He was angry and defeated.
He wanted to throw Captain America to the wind, and surrender everything.
He wanted to hear his mother's voice singing to him again. This world is cruel, and he wanted to go back home.
But there you were.
There you were, and Steve knew he had not lost everything.
"How did it happen?" you asked as he approached. "Steve, what do we do? There must be something - "
His mouth crashes into yours with such bruising intensity that it makes you stumble backward, but his arms were quick to catch you.
He was right.
You never should have left that cabin.
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2024, seven months after Steve's departure
The nightmare is different.
It's worse. Much worse.
Bucky bolts upright on the floor of his living room, having chosen to bypass the comfort of his bedroom. He thinks this is because he needs to keep his TV on in the background, something to muffle the noise in his mind late at night.
Another reason, one he hasn't confronted yet, is how comfort feels so foreign. It feels wrong, like he doesn't deserve it.
Perhaps that is why he can't find comfort even in his dreams.
It flashes before his eyes, like a broken montage.
It's almost the same every time. He's the Winter Soldier. He's on a mission. There are faces swarming around him, bodies either racing to attack or running away. But he doesn't see any of them. He doesn't feel anything as he makes every single one of them crumble.
But it's different this time. The Winter Soldier does not so much as falter or show any hesitation as he wraps his metal fingers around your windpipe.
The Winter Soldier coldly watches as you expire. Bucky helplessly watches, unable to stop as he loses everything.
Thankfully awake, in this world where he still has you, Bucky's chest feels like it's about to implode.
So much for being a superabled freak.
The clock reads 3:13. It's late, but he needs some air.
He walks for 10 minutes, aimlessly. Then for 20 more, his mind having made a decision on its own. He soon finds himself standing in front of a familiar brownstone building, where your apartment is situated on the top floor.
You don't seem confused when you answer the buzzer. It wouldn't be the first time he has shown up unannounced.
"Can't sleep either?" You're a welcome vision when you greet him at the door, cheeks flushed by the white wine you usually drink at these hours.
She's still here, Bucky reminds himself. The only comfort that he won't deny.
Instead of walking past you, straight into your apartment like he always does, he takes one step closer.
And then another.
He shuts the door behind him.
You watch him carefully, scanning his every movement. There's something here, something different. He takes another step and he has you pressed against the wall.
His eyes betray the storm of emotion brewing inside. He has to remind himself that you're here, and he has you.
"Bucky," you whisper, and it's all he needs.
He leans in and finally touches his lips to yours.
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Read part six here ~
taglist (let me know if you wish to be added!) : @vicmc624 @littleliyah16 @babezawa @klammykayla @justsebstan @blue--ingenue @numblytemporary @bradshawass @delicious-xx @mrsevans90 @heartarianagran @tinystarfishgalaxy @kyoquixote @mochibochinochi @spngingerbread21 @zbeez-outlet @rena15 @raging-panda @marveldaydreamer @integers @torntaltos @imthebadguyyy @iidear @blackhawkfanatic @smhnxdiii
My emotions!!!!!! Hahahaha this chapter is a whole mess and so are our protagonists 🔪🫀
yes yes, expect that the next one is 18+ --- but I still won't say exactly with who --- maybe it's a trick? Maybe it's neither of them? Oh well, honestly some of you have got it bang on already 🤷🏻‍♀️
As always, I am keen to hear what you guys think!!
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musickgeek · 2 months
Text
Happy (SDV Sebastian x Farmer!Reader)
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945 words, unedited
Warnings: None
The first time you'd met Sebastian was the first Friday after your arrival in Pelican Town. You saw him bent over the pool table, lining up his shot. Your face got hot, and butterflies flew in your stomach. He looked so at peace, in his element. The small smile on his lips, and comfortable stance he took up. You were wondering how to introduce yourself, but Sam, who you'd met earlier in the day, waved you over. Nervous, you tried to walk over as casually as possible, brushing dirt and dust off your clothes. "Hey (Y/n), these are my friends Abigail, and Sebastian." Sebastian makes a shot, knocking a few of his balls into the pockets. Sam frowns, but quickly refocuses on introductions. He bumps Sebastian's shoulder with his own, almost teasing. "Sebastian, this is the new farmer girl." 
The dark haired boy looked at you, curiosity in his eyes. "Oh. You just moved in, right?" You nodded. "Cool." He pauses for a moment, as if thinking about it. "Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?” You couldn't help the small laugh that came out. "I know it seems small and confining, but for me, some of the best memories of my life were made here with my grandfather." He nodded thoughtfully, accepting the answer. You found him to be so pretty, it almost embarrassed you. You'd just met the man for Yoba's sake! Oh well, you'd already decided you wanted to get to know him better.
~~~~~
You tried to speak to him every day, trying to figure out the things he liked. What do boys like him like? You came to an easy conclusion while in the mines. When you found a little piece of clear crystal. "You may think it's not much, but when in the right light," you moved it into the sun to show off how it glimmered, "it shows it's true worth." Just like him, you decided. And so your ventures into the mines became more frequent, finding colorful gems and crystals that Sebastian might like. 
You would walk in the house, scuffed up and dirty, but smiling widely. Robin would look at you strangely. You'd greet her cheerfully like you weren't bleeding and bruised before disappearing down the stairs to her sons room. She was confused for weeks until Sebastian asked her to build a shelf for him to display the fruits of your labor. 
~~~~~
"You know, I'm starting to think you're obsessed with me." He teased one Friday, you guys walking to the saloon together. "In your dreams!" It wasn't you fault, you thought. He was the one who plagued your mind with a late night motorcycle ride a few nights before. You found him working on his bike, and he suggested brining you along on time. You said you were scared, to which he promised to keep you safe. That moment played in your mind over and over like a broken record. You'd become a little clingier, and the fact that he'd noticed startled you. His phone chimed, luckily changing the subject. He frowned, and you asked what had happened.
"Sam isn't coming by tonight. He hurt himself on his skateboard earlier, and is stuck with Harvey tonight." Little did either of you know, it was a crafted lie designed by Sam and Abby to get you guys to hang out. "Do you know how to play pool?" 
"I get the idea, but I've never actually played. I don't know how to execute it, really." He gave his little smile that you adored. "Tonight is going to be interesting." He sped up, almost giddy at the idea of sharing his skills with you, leaving you to chase after him, laughing.
~~~~~
Your skin was on fire. His body had never been so close to yours. You could feel your face burning. You could feel his breath on your neck. His hand covered yours, his chest was pressed against your back. You could smell the woodsy scent of his room on him. To the other patrons, the act was innocent. He was just showing you how to line up a shot for pool. But to you, everything about this felt like carnal sin. You felt like you could pass out. The sound of the lively talk and music faded away, all you senses focused on him. Could he feel it too? You when for the shot, but were too distracted to make a hit. 
"You're even worse than Sam." He said, pulling away. "I'll just have to practice more." You insisted. "Oh, by the way, I found this for you." You pull the blue, teardrop shaped crystal out of your pocket. The shock on his face pleased you. He took it carefully, afraid of breaking it. "I really love this." 
"It's no big deal." You shrug. But he shakes his head, frowning deeply. "But it is, I know the lengths you have to go to for something like this, for any of the crystals you give me. You go down there all the time, risking your life just to give me some silly trinkets. I don't even understand why." Now you frown, feeling hurt. "I thought you liked them..." He realizes his mistake, and gets panicky. "No, I do, I really do! But...I like you more. Sometimes I wait at the rivers edge for you to come back. Just to know you're safe." 
You felt your heart pounding in your chest. What was he saying? "I...I can handle myself, Seb. I promise. I do it because it makes you happy." He looks down, and smiles. You so badly wanted to kiss him. "(Y/n), you make me happy." 
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turtle--soup · 4 days
Text
Okay.
I have not seen ROTTMNT yet, but I've picked up some stuff from just floating around the fandom. Something I've learned, which is discussed in this post here, is that Rise Leo is generally considered - and considers himself the 'Face Man' of the team. (GIFs below are swiped from the linked post by @risestarkiss - I couldn't find them in tumblr's gif search function...)
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Anyway. This is interesting to me because I am, for my sins, also a fan of The A-Team.
(I promise this is going somewhere! If you want to find out where I'm going with this, I'll put the rest of the post under a cut because it got a little long...)
For those of you unfamiliar with The A-Team, it's a (very silly) 80s TV series about a group of Vietnam War veterans who are on the run from the government after being convicted of a crime they didn't commit. The four of them spend their lives in hiding, making a living by using their combat skills to help people in need.
Here they are:
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Left: Colonel John 'Hannibal' Smith, leader of the team, brains of the outfit and most likely to have become an evil mastermind in an alternate timeline.
Right: Sergeant B.A. Baracus. Nicknamed 'Bad Attitude' due to his lack of patience for bullshit, B.A. is the resident tough guy but also an absolute teddy bear of a man, and is always ready to help people, especially children and the elderly.
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Left: Captain H.M. 'Howling Mad' Murdock is the team's pilot and can fly just about anything. As his nickname suggests, he's considered a bit eccentric and is a silly kind of guy. (He's also a permanent resident of a psychiatric hospital but let's not get into that right now.)
Right: Lieutenant Templeton Peck. His role in the team is to provide them with whatever they need, whether that be vehicles, weapons, tools or access to places. He usually achieves this using his charm and wit, gaining him the nickname 'Face Man.'
Okay, so bearing these descriptions in mind, look at Leo's dialogue in this GIF:
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I'm assuming that Donnie is the brainy guy, Raph is the smashy guy, and Mikey is the 'eats peanut butter with his fingers guy'. And Leo is the Face Man. That's his role.
But these descriptions fit the members of The A-Team too. Hannibal is the brainy guy, B.A. is the smashy guy, Murdock is the guy who absolutely eats peanut butter with his fingers (while maintaining unbroken eye contact throughout). And then there's Face.
How is this in any way relevant?
Well.
It just so happens that someone else is a fan of The A-Team...
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Of course the Mirage turtles watched The A-Team! It was a popular show in the mid-80s, and you have to admit - they do have a lot in common, being four guys fighting injustice from the shadows and all... The A-Team even have a friend on the outside who helps them out - Amy Allen.
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She's a reporter. Like someone else we know...
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But which of the Mirage turtles in the image above is suggesting they should watch The A-Team?
According to this bio card from 1990 that coincides with the 1987 series...
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... it might be Leo!
Was this intentional on the part of the Rise writers? I don't know!
Is it relevant? Probably not!
Does this tentative link between these two silly 80s series make me ridiculously happy? Yes!
Was this entire post just leading up to this? Yeah... sorry...
I like to think that the link is intentional. I've heard that Rise makes reference to other iterations of TMNT, as they all do. I would just personally love it if someone on the team wanted to draw parallels between these two series on purpose!
Anyway.
I just noticed that and really needed to get it off my chest! Thank you to everyone who stuck with this longer-than-intended post right to the end! 💙💜❤🧡
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queenie-avenue · 4 months
Text
Sent from Below, Fell from Above. [pt.1] [pt.2]
—> if angels can fall, demons can rise.
⤻ reader is a female, reader is a bunny-type angel(?), canon-typical cursing, very bad use of 1920s slang, heavily inspired by @jazjelspen 's angel baby fic, death, betrayal, mentions of racism, abuse of men against women and sexism, angst, spoilers for all of hazbin hotel season one, flashbacks
notes: a rather long one, and wrote another small verse for readers to sing. I wrote it while slowing down the melody in Emily and Charlie's parts.
💌 ⤻ archives.
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You walked into the broadcasting room, your heels clacking against the clean floor as you looked about before acknowledging that someone was already there.
"Ah, are you my newest assistant?" The man seated there had the widest grin on his face as he sat there, legs slightly spread apart as you gulped, nodding your head so meekly. Ah, to be human again, when you were too scared to even raise your head. "Haha, that's wonderful, my dear. I was told you had quite the resume. Most impressive for a young lady." You nodded your head. "Very... very impressive indeed." He smiled at you.
"You are impressive too, sir." You quipped.
"Oh?" He tilted his head.
You blushed as he narrowed his eyes at you. "Both of us... we- we're not exactly what society deems as... correct."
"Is that why you're working here? You relate to me?" The creole man asked, leaning against his chair as he tapped a lanky finger on his desk.
"No." You shook your head, your wild hair shaking alongside you. "I admire you. I want to be like you. I imagine it must have been hard for to get to where you are now." You spilled your heart out to this man, because for years, you admired how someone that was meant to be pushed out of what society deemed 'right' managed to rise to the top, to become a striking star in the radio world. "So I'm here because I want to learn how to become a star, just like you."
His eyes widened as you faced him with that determined look on your face.
"What a bright young woman." He rose up from his seat, sauntering his way towards you as you stood there, waiting.
Alastor grabbed your hand, bowing down as he looked up at you, that sweet grin on his face. "Alastor, my dear, pleasure to meet you." He said, before sealing your fate with a kiss on your hand. "I hope that we can get along well." You gazed at him with wide eyes, your eyes raking over his bronzed skin and brown — almost red — hair. Glasses lined his gleaming eyes.
✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧
"Hey, bitch! I'm talking to you over here!" Adam's voice rang throughout your head as your head snapped up to meet the first man on Earth. You frowned.
You never liked Adam. He was stuck-up, and you had heard the stories of how badly he treated Lilith and Eve, it reminded you of your high-school friends who unfortunately fell into the hands of those abusive men they had to marry. Adam had the same air as them, just less... smart.
"You want me to show up to the trial?" You repeated.
"Yes!" Adam yelled.
"I don't mind. That demon princess annoys me a little. I don't understand why she's trying to redeem a murderer like him." You hissed. The fact that girl — who probably knew of his sadistic nature — associated with him, left a bad taste in your mouth. Though wrath was a sin, you felt resentment and wrath for Alastor, and envy for how he did not seem to regret any of his actions that led him to hell in the first place. Meanwhile, you had to deal with the nightmares that came with being killed. For the first years in Heaven, you woke up in cold sweat as you remembered the knife that went through your heart.
"Well then, babe," you disliked Adam, but a temporary truce would be fine. "Let's start heading there, shall we?"
You nodded and unflapped your wings.
✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧
You flew up to the seat beside Adam, eyes narrowed as you watched Alastor promenade in with the Princess of Hell and that girl you still had no idea about. The way he walked was still the same as it had been years ago.
You met eyes with Alastor, mustering all your courage to send a look of malice his way, as Sera announced the beginning of court.
"We are gathered here today to determine whether or not a soul in Hell can be redeemed to the Heavenly Realm by means of this Hazbin Hotel." Oh, you just knew Alastor named that Hotel, he always did have a sick sense of humour. You almost snorted at the name too, but refrained from doing so.
Adam nudged you. "Now." He practically hissed. Out of spite, you almost didn't stand up.
"Objection!" You said as you stared down at the Princess, then at Sera. "I apologise for interrupting you, your royal highness." You looked down at her, then up at Sera, who glared at Adam, instinctively knowing it was his idea to rope in the innocent you into his plans. "I understand that as a Winner, I typically have no say in how Heaven runs things." You summoned up all your might as you met Sera's eyes, utilising all that courage you had back as Alastor's assistant into your heavenly body. "But I must disagree on the type of people the Princess of Hell is trying to redeem." You pointed a finger at Alastor, his eyes widening in amusement as you accused him.
"This man, I knew him from when I was alive, my heavenly council." You looked at all the archangels and others that gathered around. "He was the man who killed me. A notorious serial murderer from when I was alive. More of his victims are no doubt here too, maybe some in hell. But what doesn't change the fact is that someone as dangerous as him," You pointed your finger at Alastor again, your face turning red as he simply tilted his head towards you, like a gentleman greeting a lady. The council gasped as they all whispered about, some glaring down at your murderer. For once, you felt like justice was being served for how abruptly your life had ended in Alastor's hands."Does not belong in Heaven after all the souls he has killed in his time in the living. No matter how much he repents, taking away another human's soul is an unforgivable crime!" You exclaimed.
The rest of the council agreed, as the Princess and the girl beside her looked about, frantic. Alastor simply smiled up at you, his little bunny.
"Order in the court." Sera said, attempting to calm everyone down after you riled them up with your voice.
"You've always been such a good public speaker, my little bunny." You saw red, he dared to call you that intimate nickname in front of the Heavenly Court? After you had revealed his crime to everyone to see?
It seems that Alastor's nerve had not died with him.
"Why is he even here?" You questioned Charlie, your fiery gaze never leaving the trio below you.
"I am the host of the hotel, my dear!" Alastor said, "I should be here to support my fellow colleagues in their endeavours. What kind of co-worker — let alone friend — would I be if I let them defend their case on their own?"
You were about to speak when you were interrupted by that Princess.
"In the Hazbin Hotel, we believe that everyone can be redeemed!" The Princess exclaimed despite the loud voices drowning her out. "Please, you have to listen!"
"You don't even have evidence that this Hotel can work. If you do, we'd be glad to see it!" Adam responded sarcastically, challenging Princess Morningstar.
"We have a patron that is showing incredible progress." She said.
"Who?"
"Don't tell me it's him." You glared at the Princess, daring her to confirm your doubts.
"Angel Dust!" What an odd name.
"Oh yeah! The porn demon, he's totally worth being redeemed." Adam blew a Raspberry at them. That was... immature. Still, your cheeks almost flamed scarlet as Adam gave you context for who and what this sinner the Princess referred to was.
"Well, if you know so much, what do you think it takes to get into heaven?" She pointed at Adam as your eyes widened. You had never thought about this before but... what did a person need to do to get into heaven? Did they need to be perfect? Because if so, you certainly belonged in Hell. Then, you remembered Alastor and your mood soured to think that you might have been in the same spot as him.
What was even more shocking was when Adam began to get flustered, flabbergasted by Charlie's question as Sera inquired as to whether Adam was okay. You watched even more shocked as Adam cursed at Sera and began to scribble nonsense onto a paper and sent it down to the girl. You caught a glimpse of the paper and your eyes widened.
"Are you fucking serious?" The ashen girl by the Princess' side asked, and honestly, that was your reaction too.
Adam snapped his fingers as Charlie challenged him, your eyes narrowing as an orb of light began to reflect, glowing bright before showcasing a bunch of sinners... partying? Was that how partying looked nowadays?
"Heavenly people, what more do you need to see? The pornstar chose a night of debauchery, that's not a soul worthy of being redeemed!" You side-eyed Adam. He had done way more debaucherous stuff than you cared to admit, and plus, if not partying was one of the factors for how you could get into heaven, the parties Alastor dragged you to would have caused you to plummet to Hell already.
"Are you telling me you never had a drink with friends after a hard day?" The Princess was right.
Thankfully, Sera was much more forgiving and less stupid than Adam, considering that she eventually allowed the Princess of Hell to continue. Still, you glared at Alastor, annoyed that you and Adam's ploy to get everyone so worked up over the serial killer in the room had not worked.
If the type of people the Princess of Hell, Charlotte Morningstar, wanted to redeem was a serial murderer, you would never accept the idea of redemption.
Alastor did not deserve such happiness.
You continued to watch, and the more you watched, the more you empathised with this Angel Dust... the more you felt inclined to care for him. You felt your heart — that you had assumed turned to stone for the sinners down in hell — slowly soften into clay for this sad man. Yet, despite how sad he clearly was, he was so strong. Stronger than anyone you had ever seen.
"See! He did everything on your list! He was selfless, he stopped Nifty from stealing and stuck it to that Moth man!" Charlie exclaimed, causing your eyebrows to furrow.
"Well, b- then why isn't he here then!" Adam sputtered out. "Hm?"
"Why isn't he here?" Emily and You said in unison.
"Wait, none of you know what gets someone into Heaven?"
The rest of the conversation was a blur to you as you struggled with the idea that you had no idea why you were in Heaven. If you had done one wrong thing... would that have condemned you to hell with Alastor?
You had not even comprehended the fact that they had started debating their ideas in song till Lute who was seated beside you, began to insult the sinner that all of you had been observing. Your eyes had solely been focused on Alastor the entire time, but theh quickly shot to Lute.
"What are we even talking about? Some crack whore who fucked up already! He blew his shot like the cocks in his mouth, this discussion is senseless and petty!" Lute sang, and you almost reached out for her, to not say such crude things in front of the Heavenly council and certainly to not insult a victim of abuse. Yet Lute and Adam flew away first and you frowned even deeper.
"Gotta say I can't wait to-"
"Adam." You turned to Sera.
"Come down and exterminate you!" Your eyes widened as you realised the severity of this situation. You now understood why this Princess was fighting so hard for this hotel.
Adam was killing the sinners.
He was no better than Alastor. No, even worse. Adam slaughtered an entire group of people without mercy. You felt bile rise up from your throat as they continued to sing, the tunes of their voice banging against your ears.
"Whoops!"
"Guess the cat's out of the bag!"
"What's the big deal?"
They didn't even see what was wrong with what they had said. You almost stumbled back thanks to shock and your absurdly long dress. Your entire world was sent into a frenzy as you felt so disgusted with yourself, for thinking that you could work with Adam, for siding with Sera and Adam — though briefly — for the idea of extermination. You felt yourself fall back, but someone was there to catch you.
Alastor's shadows manifested behind you, holding you close to his chest. "Be careful, Sweetheart." He said, helping you regain your balance as you felt too much anger with yourself to be angry at him.
"If Hell is forever, then Heaven must be a lie!"
"Emily-"
"If Angels can do whatever and remain in the sky! The rules are shades of grey, when you don't do as you say, when you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again!"
Their words resonated with you, and you found your heart thumping to the melody of the song.
"Don't look there." Alastor whispered as a red hand came up to your face, covering your eyes. "I don't like to see you stressed, my darling." The warmth of his hand felt like that time when he had surprised you on your birthday, covering your eyes before revealing the cake he had bought and the decorations he had put up for you.
Despite how he covered your ears, you could hear the court arguing amongst themselves.
That's when you heard it.
Sera's voice boomed throughout the entire court, facing the sinners with a verdict. "I'm sorry, but this court finds that there is no evidence souls in Hell can be redeemed."
"Oh fuck yes! I win, suck it, bitches!"
"You better save the date cunts, because we're coming to your hotel, first." That's when Alastor manifested in front of them, his shadows pushing Adam back, almost causing him to topple over.
"Not a very clever idea, chum, it's rude to curse at ladies." Alastor warned, the shadowy tentacles slithering about, ready to attack Adam.
"Ugh, son of a bitch!" Adam cursed as he grabbed out his guitar. "Or maybe, I can just kill you fuckers now." He took out his guitar-axe and in a flash of light, you flew towards them, shielding the trio from Adam's strikes with your wings. Adam flew back when his guitar-axe made contact with your angelic wings, enchanted by a spell that slammed Adam and Lute back, crashing into the wall.
"Just because you're a winner, does not give you the privilege to harm someone else!" You yelled, never having such a fit of rage in your life as you spread out your wings. You were a bunny; prey, never the predator. But as you spread out your Enchanted wings, you felt yourself grow angrier as you thought of how Adam — that sadistic motherfucker — no doubt killed multiple sinners. Sinners who were just like Angel Dust, misguided, but deserving of redemption.
"Are you seriously defending them right now, you crazy bitch?" Adam grunted as he glared at you.
"I'm defending the principle of it." You hissed.
Sera and Emily looked down at you. Sera, in particular, had a sour look on her face.
"You say that demons cannot be redeemed to Heaven, but why can Angels fall?" You questioned. "Lucifer himself, was once an angel, God's favourite angel!"
"If angels can fall, then why can't demons rise?" You looked towards the Heavenly council as you sang. "After this, will you really believe all their lies?" You questioned through song as Adam got up, knowing you had little time to convince the court. "The rules aren't black and white, who decides what's wrong and right? Can you say that this is justice when you kill them again?" You sang, pleading for the court to just look past their prejudices.
Just then, you heard a snap of Adam's fingers as a portal emerged from behind all of you. "No!" You yelled when you noticed how the portal was leading to a red fiery pit you assumed was hell, but before you could even protest, you had been pushed in by Lute, causing the rest of the four of you to stumble back down into hell.
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tags: @duckydinglers @ghostdoodlen @belletifeshyl
233 notes · View notes
antimatterz · 9 months
Note
Hi! I really like your self aware au, could I request Jing Yuan, Blade and Dan Heng(IL) seeing reader crying over Simulated universe swarm disaster? ( it's kicking me in the ass and I'm stuck at difficult 2 :') )
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SIMULATED UNIVERSE: a literal disaster
jing yuan, blade, dan heng (il), gepard x gn!reader
summary: you struggle with the new swarm disaster event while you cleared the rest of honkai: starrail's content with ease, how to they react?
cw: self-aware au, comfort
enyo's note: i combined two requests because they were very similar, i hope that's okay! also this was so relatable, i strongly dislike swarm disaster 💀
her personal taglist: @hiraethsdesires
content under the cut | masterlist
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jing yuan
honestly, i can see him being amused at first.
you never really struggle with anything in the game – even the hardest boss battles won't get you and your team down.
so seeing you struggle like that with the new swarm disaster event, that's a rare sight and he just can't help but find your little fit of frustration kind of cute.
but when it gets out of hand, his amusement is quick to fade away. tears form in your eyes when you fail the challenge again and now the general gets worried.
"are you okay, y/n?" he asks as you exit the simulated universe. there is no playfulness in his voice, only worry.
you shake your head. "i don't know what i'm doing wrong."
jing yuan helps you through this tough event to the best of his abilities. he tries a little harder in battle, going past his own limits to get the job done. he gives strategic advice and coordinates the rest of your team alongside you, like a true general.
to him, it doesn't matter whether you win or lose, he's proud of you for not giving up immediately. he's there to catch you after another defeat and celebrates with you when you finally clear a new difficulty level!
blade
he definitely shares your frustration.
not a part of him is entertained by your struggles. if any, he's just as upset as you are. when the two of you work together, nothing ever goes wrong. then why can't you get past the swarm boss?
but even now, his soft spot for you resurfaces when you tear up in sheer frustration. another defeat. another failure. you just want to give up. to shut down your device and punch a wall. although blade is more than ready to commit a sin as well, he tries to keep his cool for you.
"let's try again," he growls, tightly gripping his blade. "i'll bring those bugs their demise."
every time you want to quit, he convinces you to go on, and blade keeps pushing his boundaries just to get you through another level.
defeat only fuels his fire, and he won't rest (and won't let you rest) until you clear another difficulty.
because he does everything for you.
dan heng (+ imbibitor lunae)
as a nameless in his human form he already tries his hardest for you. he knows you are frustrated and so is he, limited by the aforementioned human form.
he doesn't really show it, he doesn't complain. he just stays quiet and does his very best, urging you to move through the various panes with a silent nod.
dan heng hates seeing you struggle, especially since he knows you got through the game's previous content without issues. he's also quite confused, why is this so difficult?
okay, at some point you start noticing his frustration too, as he grows a little reckless during fights. there's anger in his usually solemn gaze as he goes on.
yet, regardless of his own frustration, he still consoles you after every defeat, pretending to be confident in winning at some point even though he isn't confident at all.
so when he gains access to his vidyadhara form, unlocking a newfound strength, he goes all in again, just for you – with newfound hope.
it actually goes better now, but as you reach the swarm it proves to be quite difficult still. but he convinces you to not give up, no matter how many attempts it takes.
when you finally clear a new difficulty level, you might even catch a faint smile. "you did well, y/n."
gepard landau
the captain of the silvermane guards always gets you through whatever the game throws at you. with his strong defensive abilities, he keeps your team shielded and alive in the hardest circumstances.
so he's slightly caught off-guard when your team keeps dying in the new event.
while he writes it off as an unfortunate coincidence after the first few defeats, he seriously starts doubting his capabilities when your team dies again. he doesn't show it but he's secretly afraid that you're disappointed in him for not keeping the team alive.
but his will never falters and every time you try again, he too tries harder and harder. even when you get so frustrated that you're about to tear up, he motivates you to go at it regardless because he wants to make it up to you.
"we got this, y/n," he speaks resolutely.
'giving up' isn't in his vocabulary, so he too pushes his own limits. but it pays off, because you make it past the swarm boss at some point and clear the difficulty level you had deemed impossible.
gepard is so relieved that he prove his worth again; he got you and your team through a difficult challenge, successfully fulfilling his duty.
he's proud of you, and please tell him you're proud of him as well!!
619 notes · View notes
spottedenchants · 2 years
Note
Show me sin/don’t get stuck? 👀👀
Oh yes this is a fun one, part of Eiselcross is for Lovers, Aeor is for Wizards- one of my older WIPs :3
Here's a newer section of it:
~
“In Undercommon, both Wynandir and Kryn, ‘guilt’ and ‘regret’... they are ‘kreth’el’, the concept inherently tied to beginnings, newness. Repentance, even.”
Caleb stares, a knowing flick in his eyes. Essek lets his honesty sit- what much else does he have to hide?
“So why, I ask, is the term for the concept so different, if we assume the same origin?”
“You are suggesting avalir and savalir came after the split?”
“I have not heard of this place, despite my prior studies into the Age of Arcanum. Wouldn’t it make an interesting story?”
“You are studied in this, specifically?”
It’s not a blaze in Caleb’s eyes, the curiosity that parades off his tongue, but something softer. Enticing. A hearth in the heart of winter.
“Not for some time, though it still interests me, hence-.”
And Essek gestures wide to their unchanged surroundings once more. Perhaps free confidence is childish and Essek a fool, some creature wanting to be seen by any means, even in the wavering light of intrigue.
Caleb’s eyes stay to him, not around.
So, then again, maybe not.
~
Send me an ask with the WIP title that most intrigues you and I’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it.
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ddejavvu · 1 year
Note
i’ve never heard anyone talk about this but there’s an episode of cm where the bau has to turn around on the jet and aaron says “i’ll inform the pilot” sooooooooooo i’m feeling pilot!reader who’s super confident and always flirts with him PLEASE
disclaimer: i don't fly planes i don't know the process of rerouting mid-flight but i tried my darndest
--
It's not every day that a case is solved before the BAU even land, but this unsub wasn't as smart as everyone thought he would be. He'd revisited his third crime scene just in time for the police to show up, and he won't be getting out of prison anytime soon.
Derek lets out a scoff of a laugh at the man's idiocy, already reaching for his headphones, "I guess we've got our weekend after all. Prentiss, you ever gonna tell me what sin to win means?"
Aaron stands as Emily narrows her eyes at Derek, a smirk curling over her lips, "There are some questions, Morgan, that if you have to ask, it means you probably couldn't handle the answer."
Before Derek can fire back Hotch heads for the curtain, "Alright, you two. That's enough. I'm going to go tell the pilot we can turn around. They'll need to reroute us."
There's a hum of acknowledgement that circles the jet, and Aaron passes through the snack station, rapping his knuckles gently on the door to the cockpit.
A green light flashes over the doorframe and a bell chimes, the door unlocking automatically with the press of a button inside.
"Y/N," Aaron greets you, on a first-name basis from calling you to work alone. He tries joking, something he forgets to do sometimes at work, "Just kidding. We're headed back to Virginia, can you pull a u-turn in an airplane?"
You turn to grin at him, face peeking out from the side of the headrest, "What, you forget your toothbrush?"
He's glad his joke went over well, and he laughs at your own, a smile gracing his features, "They don't need us anymore. Are you able to reroute us mid-air? Or will we have to land first?"
"If there's not much air traffic we can turn," You hum, peering at diagrams and screens that Aaron doesn't understand, "But if it's busy we'll just have to land and set up another flight path."
"Understood," He nods, checking his phone that looks comically small in his large hands, "When will you know?"
"Right," You hum, analyzing the display in front of you, and checking a note you've made for yourself on a sticky note that's stuck to your seat, "Now. I think we can make it without landing, but we'll have to wait for a commercial flight to pass. Shouldn't take longer than 20 minutes to turn, then an hour to get back."
"Thank you," Aaron heaves a relieved sigh, thankful not to have to waste more time than they already have, "You're a lifesaver. I owe you one, really."
"Breakfast in bed," You decide, your shit-eating grin only widening, "Hey, next time you're on a case, we'll share a hotel room. That'll make it easy for you."
Aaron doesn't know exactly how to respond to such a bold statement. He's bold himself, but not with flirting. He feels his cheeks heat up and prays you can't see it, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he calculates his response.
"Pancakes or waffles?"
"Waffles," You laugh, "And whipped cream."
"Mm, okay," Aaron pretends to deliberate, headed back to the doorway, "Over the top, or on the side?"
"It's not for the waffles," You chime, and Aaron is infinitely glad you're turned around again to face the display in front of you, because it means you don't see him trip over the base of the doorway, "Why else do you think we're sharing a room, Hotchner?"
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veetyuh · 7 months
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I'm reminded of that "antishipping isn't purity culture because it isn't conservative christianity" post... And I think I've done some unpacking on why it triggers me so much.
I was an intersex child shoved into the role of a female, in a rural & conservative Christian environment. I've had not just purity culture shoved down my throat, but also the shame of not being able to meet the expectations put on women in that environment.
It's not just cover up, slut. That implies I had something to show off, to begin with. And men still want to ogle you and imagine what your body is like beneath that modest dress. So here, literal child. Have this shapewear to make your figure conform to that of a developing middle school female's under your clothes.
It's contradictory that way. You have to try to be unappealing to not 'tempt' men, but you still need to be appealing in the sense of conventional female attractiveness. Moreover, you must not think about men or sex at all. But you cannot be asexual — your parents demand grandchildren.
Antis do the same with their queer representation. It's the same contradictory expectations... They champion the idea of breaking societal norms through queerness (i.e. the idea of 'queer as in fuck you'), then demand that every nuclear family norm be met. Queer characters must be disruptive without actually disrupting anything. And the contradictions apply to fans, too — you're homophobic if you don't like a canon queer ship, and you're fetishistic if you like queer ships too much. (There are more, but I'd be stuck here forever if I listed them all. 😅)
There's also the obvious — fictional sins being as bad as things done in real life. There's Matthew 5, which includes so many popular verses about thought control that Christians use, and equates bad thought to bad doing.
27 “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ 28 But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart. 29 If your right eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. 30 And if your right hand causes you to stumble, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to go into hell.
And fuck if antis aren't cutting off their entire goddamn arm and gouging out both eyes.
It's not just purity culture they embody, though — it's the satanic panic, too. Good lord the amount of times my grandma wouldn't let me watch Ghost Hunters because she thought I was welcoming demons into the home, or her concern for me watching horror movies because I'd surely become more violent. It's the same shit, different horse.
On a more light-hearted note, they play the same game that Christian demoninations do, too. I was Baptist, and considered the Methodists okay. But the Catholics? No, keep that shit away from me. Why are you worshipping Mary? That's idolatry! How horrible, to openly spit in God's face. When I read antis' DNI lists rattling off forbidden, unredeemable fandoms, it feels the same way, haha.
But what really seals the deal for me is how they smile in your face and promise they're just looking out for you. Christians do that, too. "We want you to get better. We want to help you. You're on a dark path." While they break your bones to force you into their mold. You may not be hurting anyone on your dark path, but they'll convince you that you ARE. You're hurting yourself "spiritually," you're hurting the community, your family, by being an abomination to God. You're hurting everyone and yourself, you just need us to help you realize it. Antis feel the exact same. I block them pre-emptively because I cannot handle having that shit directed at me again.
Moreover, their insults feel the same. The childish "icky," the ad hominems. It's too reminiscent for me. Of my mom hating my icky facial hair and my classmates making fun of my masc traits when they thought I couldn't hear; you are a gross person!!1! Ew!!!
It's funny that antis are so often anti-kink, considering they're so fucking intent on giving me a golden shower and telling me it's rain. I hope they're careful not to choke on the homophobic, pedophilic pastor cock they're sucking.
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konigsblog · 9 months
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Whatcha think of poor, innocent reader being stuck around perv!König and perv!Ghost. A virgin and oblivious to any sexual advances or perverted intentions, you're just stuck wondering why your Lieutenant and the temporary ally from KorTac - König - are so handsy, grunting out confusing mixtures of praises and demeaning words with their deep and sinful voice. And when you lose a few pairs of panties? You ask around but Ghost and König are adamant that they were probably mixed up with someone else's laundry or simply lost, but you were sure you saw a blue lace peek out of their pockets.
If you've already written this then you can ignore this! And as always, take care of yourself!
i love this idea !! corruption kink always gets me.. mfmfmfmdnagahafag :( 🫨 .. this is such a good idea, i can't ignore it !!
// warnings for slight somnophillia, and perverted behaviour ... 🐙
perv!könig and perv!ghost with their innocent!reader..
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141 and kortac had been working together, and during that time, you'd gotten to know ‘könig’; the six-foot ten, huge man. it's no surprise simon and könig got along, both preferring silence, and both having their eyes on you :( only if you knew the reason they wouldn't let you come into their rooms when they were together wasn't because they didn't like you, but because they were showing eachother photos they'd take of you whilst asleep.
your beautiful, soft tits and your glistening cunt, swollen and dripping, a video of simon fingering you. you'd be so pissed — or maybe confused and humilated, not understanding, being nïave and too innocent to understand their perverted advances... your sloppy cunt after taking a shower, könig walking by with his phone recording, getting a good clip of your precious cunny!!!
and you, not understanding why your lace panties had went missing, asked about it. you're too stupid to realise that someone might've stolen it for their own pleasure, believing könig when he said that it probably got lost in the washing and to forget about it. but, you didn't understand why a pretty light blue material was tucked further into his pocket when you asked about it, walking away with a gleeful, pretty smile, having no idea of what they were doing to you.
you're too dumb to realise their perverted intentions, and they love that about you. whenever you're showering, they always take the two showers beside you. coincidence? perhaps, but when a hand gropes your ass from behind, and it's simon, you're confused and thinking you're imagining it. he wouldn't do that, would he? you're just a private, he's a lieutenant, surely not... right?
simon always seems to be there when you're getting slapped and groped, feeling him grind against you while reaching for something else. not aware of the grin behind his mask when you apologise for being in his way. you're too nïave, they all say it, yet you don't believe you are.. taking a look at you panty draw to find nothing but an expensive pair of lingerie you accidentally packed in a rush, a substance crusted on it and simon's eyes all over you when he peaked into your trousers while you were bent over...
maybe they'll have to ruin you, make you a stupid, babbling thing for them. shared by two burly men who always chuckle when you talk about your panties going missing, desperate to corrupt your mind and have you rubbing your swollen pussy on their thighs, face and big cocks!!!
...
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blueberryarchive · 3 months
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𝒈𝒐𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒔!𝒋𝒌 𝒙 𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓ֶָ֢𓍯ִֶָ .
(wlw, smut, jk is a female goddess with four arms and a long tongue...yes, size difference) shorts for the sleepless
Sometimes, the most fun a divine entity can have is watch an ordinary woman. It is to look down and admire how banal the life of a mortal is, to think about each of their actions knowing the inevitable end.
It is sitting among the clouds and with your fine finger creating a hole until it shows a creature, one of those sweet and soft ones with hair stuck to its forehead and full, pink lips.
A woman.
Jun opens her eyes wide, her long eyelashes fluttering as she sees how she bends down to the stream and washes her clothes with the delicacy of a mother. As a goddess she has seen women for millennia, but she had never given them the attention that those breasts deserved.
Something deep inside the goddess blossomed, just beneath her stomach, a hunger that no mortal man or god or demon could satisfy.
It was your yellowish dress, larger than your body that made the goddess take the first step; it was the liquid of a juicy plum falling down your chin that was the cause of the second step, the third was your gaze on her. Two balls of yarn, so innocent that they made the goddess salivate.
Your eyes tightened on the figure stalking you from the depths of the water. The water lilies hiding her body, her long hair floating like copper eels.
You looked around, and there was nothing Jun didn't enjoy more than human curiosity. How you stuck your feet over the edge, lifting your dress so it wouldn't get wet.
"Are you hiding from the boss?"
Jun denied, letting her lips peek out, one leg in front of the other. Little by little and her hunger would be satisfied.
"Poor thing, you're probably lost. You must be hungry." You said and took out another plum from your dress. "I stole them from the boss's daughter before I came to wash her clothes." You admit with a laugh that the goddess must have lifted her ears out of the green water to listen.
"It is not your dress you're washing, then." The voice made your shoulders tense, it was raspy and seductive. Like those of the ladies who don't have to marry for money.
"No, God, no." You looked at the garment drying on the stone.
As you turned your face back to the woman, you saw how her body was imposed in front of yours. With sinful curves, erect breasts and four arms squeezing the hair to remove the water.
"Oh, don't faint on me, sweet thing." One of her hands rose to your chin and made you see her long, oval nose, the mole beneath her thin lips. "It's all a sweet dream, a mere creation of your vast imagination is what I am."
You fluttered your eyelashes until you stabilized your body, another of her hands raised yours and took a bite of the fruit between your fingers. Her eyes did not escape your reaction.
The lights that bathed the water became softer and the singing of the birds sounded far away.
"Have you ever played with dolls?" The enormous creature asked as she cornered you between the hot stone and her body. The air smelled sweet, like summer sweat and rose soap.
"I've never had a doll, ma'am." You stuttered and the goddess laughed lowly.
"I have seen few girls in my long life, how they take their little bodies and manipulate the limbs of their toys."
One of her long nails served as a razor to send your only dress to the floor, the heat consuming your skin—also the fourth hand that squeezed your thighs with scientific curiosity.
"Today you'll wear the clothes of a high-class lady, you'll wear your hair down, you'll laugh at the taste of alcohol on your lips."
Jun grabbed the plum between her fingers and squeezed it until it became only juice, you opened your mouth and, maybe it was the dream, maybe the hypnotizing voice, but the fruit tasted like liquor going down your throat.
And as predicted, you laughed with every drop while the creature licked from your breasts and collarbones, causing your little body to feel ticklish.
You moaned, pursing your lips as her teeth gently nibble the skin of your stomach and reached the valley that suddenly wet your thighs.
"Is this the fruit you offer me?"
"No, please." Your blushing cheeks looked away, you bit your fingers until you felt her tongue burning between your legs. "I have to wait until I get married and-"
"Isn't it the most divine action to consummate the act with someone like me?"
"I-i guess." You moaned as you felt two of the arms spread your legs in ways you didn't know you could.
The tongue flattened to savor every hiding place, every fold. And Olympus knows why women exist, and why they have them hidden among the thorny branches of a rose bush.
Every time you moaned it was like the cherubs were singing and the more you wet the stone beneath you with such ease. You could feel her tongue throbbing inside you, like an eel writhing hard.
The two main arms took your breasts, squeezing until you felt the long nails.
"Good girl, I'm going to make you mine until you adore me." Jun whispered into your hot ear, your juices dripping down her chin.
You couldn't bear to see her beautiful face, she was worthy of a thousand kisses. Your trembling hands reached for her cheeks and you licked every drop until you memorized your own taste.
The goddess's wet dress showed off her juicy pussy, the fine layer of hair that covered it, the clitoris that stood out like a flower about to bloom.
Your lust dominated your senses, caressing her curvy and strong body, kissing her nipples, wanting to reach her collarbones but the size difference was so great.
"Make it come out, soothe my itch." You begged, raising your legs. Jun smiled.
"Very well."
The goddess loved to see your sweaty and corrupted face. She loved your desperate hands lining up your pussy with hers to rub your poor clit in search of release. Jun pressed her pelvis against your thighs until there were no spaces between the two drooling, fleshy pussies.
The four hands intoxicated your senses: one of them brushed your nipple, the second held your hair, the third squeezed your waist to stabilize you and the fourth buried itself between your ass to play with your anus with small circles.
It was sinful, it was demonic, a divine blasphemy and had to happen to know it was worth it.
The goddess's soft lips fell on your neck. The first to cum was you, with your clumsy, inelegant moans and your tremors. You felt the smile next to your jugular.
"Did you-"
"Three times already, only from seeing you from far." Jun gasped, her long tongue licked the sticky plum juice from your neck to your ear. "Now sleep, next time you must wear the dress for me."
You nodded, letting her voice engulf you in a lethargy.
Sometimes, the most pleasure a divine entity can have is fuck an ordinary woman.
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