#with wrinkles and streaks of gray in his hair. PLEASE.

[blackopals-world]

Your Implied relationship Twisted Wonderland fic was so good please have a part two where the bys come back to visit and find out she has a son. Also her son finds out she´s the missing princess in the books she wrote. This is SO GOOD O MY GREAT 7 PLEASE PART 2! PART 2!

Okay Okay! I'm listening!I'm listening!

I Found Home

Part 2

(part 1)(part 3)(Part 4)(part 5)(Part 6)(Part 7)(Part 8)

Implied relationship

Yuu x twisted cast

Implied relationship in the first half.

Yuu opens the door to find...

Yuu took a deep breath as she opened to door hoping that she heard correctly. She knew that voice anywhere.

"Henchmen!" A ball of grey fluff barreled into her.

"Grim?!" She gasped as the air was pushed out of her lungs.

She had to be dreaming.

What a cruel dream this was. To see her Grim again would mean crossing over to that world but leaving her Grimm behind. How cruel, how impossible.

"Yuu!" The cat cried rubbing his furry form against her in affection. Every so often headbutting against her face.

"Oh Grim." She sighed tearfully wrapping her arms around him " How did you get here?"

The cat familiar pulled away and smiled smugly.

"Obviously, you can never leave me behind. The great and powerful Grim created portals to countless domains." He proclaimed.

"By which he means we created a portal to find you." Another voice entered.

The feathered cloak and bird mask told her everything she needed.

"Crowley." Yuu gasped.

Once upon a time, she hated his guts but in time she understood him. In the years of staying at the school she saw a side of him that others didn't. He was negligent and overdramatic but he protected her in his own way.

Crowley was true to his word about searching for a way back home for her, but he pushed her to stay. He had doubts as his research found little evidence. Not to mention the chaos going on campus. Grim and Yuu's antics didn't help certainly. Back then she thought it was revenge but it only made things harder.

During her last year asked her to remain in twisted wonderland because it would be easier than readjusting to her old world.

She saw through him. He just didn't want her to go. But a promise was made.

"Look how you've grown," Crowley said wistfully as he moved his mask. "Hard to believe it's only been a few years."

Yuu held back a laugh as she saw him. A few streaks of graying hair stood out from the black. His eyes seemed to wrinkle with the beginning of crow's feet. His job must be aging him prematurely. He definitely seemed more tired. Best not to make fun of an old man.

"Nice to see you too." Yuu said

Their reunion halted when footsteps came stumbling down the stairs. Grimm had woken up and came looking for her.

"Mama.." He called out to her rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Mama."

Yuu couldn't speak as her son saw the strange figures in the house.

"Mama?" Grim repeated astonished, bewildered as he looked back and forth between the parent and child.

"Nina?" Grimm asked.

Answering Grimm's questions this late would be difficult without any prep. So she took the easy way.

"Honey your sleepwalking. You should get back to bed." Yuu thanked the heavens that Grim looked like a walking stuff animal.

Grimm nodded and yawn before stumbling back to his room.

"I have a grandson?!" Crowley gasped "Wait your married?!"

"Of course not, I'm too young an-" Yuu started.

"But not too young for a baby? Do you not remember what I said about protection? Who fathered your child? Who was this bastard who left you to raise this child on your own?"

"It's not like that."

"Was it one of your old 'friends'? Even if you left for your old world it doesn't absolve them of responsibility. Regardless now that the gate is open there will be no choice but to be a father to their child. Divus will have fit when he finds out." Crowley ranted taking a seat on the couch as Yuu tried to calm him down.

"No , I adopted Grimm. He's not related to them."

Crowley wasn't hearing it.

"Honestly when that boy asked for me and Crewel's blessing I knew we were right to say no. And don't lie young lady that child looks exactly like-"

"No, he doesn't!"

They argued back and forth as Grim snuck upstairs through the open door to the room that the little boy slept in.

The room was decorated wall to wall with trinkets, stuffies, and books. On the bed, the boy slept hugging a grey cat with a bow.

Grim shifted closer to examine it when a pair of eyes popped open.

"Nina?" There was that name again "You came to life!"

"My name is Grim, boy. The great and powerful magician!" Grim crowed.

"No, I'm Grimm. That's my name."

Grim paused. Yuu named him Grimm. After him. She didn't forget him. Did she love him that much?

"That's. That's a great name." He said simply as he climbed on the bed "You should sleep. Your mom has always been a stickler for stuff like that."

The familiar curled up against the boy and purred as he lulled them to sleep. Grim could accept this, his new 'little henchmen'.

Meanwhile, Yuu continued to bicker with her old guardian. Crowley wanted visitation rights, family vacations and a chance to see if his grandson might have magic. To which Yuu said no.

Grimm wouldn't be exposed to magic. Not the expectations that came with it or the people who use it. It's not a world made for him. Grimm had been through enough, he has his own trauma and she wasn't making magic part of it.

"I'm not sure you'll get a choice. Not with the gate now open."

"Grimm doesn't have magic. I won't let him be treated the way I was for it. He deserves better."

"Mama!Mama!" Grim shouted as he stumbled down the big steps. He clung to the railing with both arms to safely.

Yuu finished had cutting up Grim's pancakes as he made it down and ran straight to her. He threw himself at her as his arms wrapped around her hips.

"Careful, sweetheart. You almost knocked me over." Yuu picked him up and sat him at the table. Grimm's seat had a cushion to make it easier to see over the table.

"Cake! Thank you mama!" He smiled picking up his fork from his colorful placemat.

Yuu held back a squeal of joy. Her baby was so so cute and so polite.

"No, they are pancakes. We change the name to make it okay to eat in the morning.

"Cake is cake!" Grimm hooted back.

Yuu didn't argue.

"Mama, I had a dream. Nina was walking and talking!"

"Oh," Yuu said not having a better response.

She had a lot on her mind. The sudden appearance of Grim and Crowley disrupted Yuu's life. She was happy to see them but...it's a lot to adjust too.

She didn't even like the idea of Grimm learning about magic. She had dealt with her own resentment in the past when she was mocked for her status. It would be unfair to make him go through the same. She's a mother now and had to consider these things.

Maybe she was making a mistake.

Grim at least got to meet his little brother. It's too bad he needed to return with Crowley for the time being. Once Yuu was sure they would be a family again. Grim will always be the exception no matter her doubts.

(From this point the story goes on to show the first meetings with the twst boys. Each will be Grimm's first contact so there won't be continuity)

Riddle

"The Mentor"

No one believed Grim when he said he made a stable gateway to Yuu's world. All of them had tried and failed even Malleus couldn't do it. But Grim was different he had a connection to Yuu. If Yuu still had a strong connection a gateway could be made.

Grim now worked at the school helping Crowley and called everyone to deliver the news.

Riddle thought it would be appropriate to visit. He took the day off, his cases would wait one day. He had worked his way up to district prosecutor recently.

The first thing he noticed when he reached the scenic neighborhood was how peaceful it was. The house were spaced apart and it was clean. Lots of trees and gardens.

The second was one particular house where a young woman was kneading by a flowerbed. She was so focused on her roses that she didn't notice him but Riddle knew it was her. Just like him, time had changed some features. He had grown taller and lost some of his boyish looks but she no different. She was softer in appearance, glowing and matronly even. She grew out her hair but she tied it up.

Riddle reflexively straightened his suit jacket and shifted the bouquet he had brought in his arms. He wondered if she still liked these flowers.

Just as he tried to call her name a loud yelp rang out.

"Ma-ahh!" The exclamation became a wail of pain as a little boy appeared holding out a finger.

Yuu sprang up as she went to the side of a weeping boy. He had pricked his finger on a thorn.

"It okay Grimm. Don't panic, it'll only hurt a moment. You should never touch roses without gloves." She scolded gently. "You know better then that."

"But I wanted to see a red rose. So I thought if I painted one it would turn red. Like in the book." He whimpered as Yuu took out a bandage from her pocket and wrapped it on his finger.

"Grimm you know that in the story that red roses belong to the red king. And that sort of spell was done only by his loyal card soldiers." She admonished.

"Like The Ace Magician and The Spade Mercenary?" He asked.

"Yep, they had orders to do those tasks and you should ask permission to do it as well. Those are the rules. Don't you want to follow the rules?" Yuu asked.

Grim nodded quickly as he gathered his scattered paint and went to put them away like a good boy.

Riddle had hidden himself during the exchange. His mind raced. She had a son. Of course, she had a kid. Why wouldn't she? Anyone with eyes would want her. Anyone with a brain would fall for her. So seeing her married with a family is common sense.

Perhaps the flowers were too much?

"Hello?"

Riddle didn't get time to change his mind as his hiding spot was discovered.

"Hello, Yuu. I brought these for you." He tried to sound calm as he presented the bouquet.

"Riddle!" Her smile was still as warm as it was before. "Oh my, look at how tall you've gotten! You look amazing! How have you been? Come inside, I'll make some tea."

The pair talked amicably as Yuu put a kettle on. All the while a pair of eyes peeked out from a doorway. It was the boy.

"Grimm it's rude to stare. " She scolded.

"Sorry mama." He said but didn't move.

"Grimm? I bet you had to explain that one to your husband." Riddle tried to sound jovial.

"Not really, I don't have one. It just us here." Yuu smiled.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not."

There was a tug on Riddle's sleeve as Grimm got his attention. In his hand was a book; "The Lost Princess in the Red King's Court"

"Oh, do you like this book? I never read stuff like this at your age." Riddle said taking the book gingerly. He flipped through the pages as the pictures looked eerily familiar.

Grimm leaned on Riddle as he pointed at his favorite characters.

"Mama made this. The lost princess gets kidnapped by a giant crow and is dropped far away from home. She lands in the rose garden and makes friends with a magician and a mercenary who was summoned to work for the king." Grimm explaind

The story continued. The magician and mercenary protected the princess from a troll as they journeyed to see the king. The princess meets a magic cat that she kept. (no, this isn't Wizard of Oz) When they arrived at the Red Kingdom they were bombarded with rules and when the magician was asked to kneel before the king he refused. As punishment, the magician was sent to the dungeons. The princess was the only one not locked away so she frees her friends and challenges the king. The princess pleads with the king to see the dark spirit haunting and the gang banishes it. It ends happily when the king makes the boys knights and asks the princess to stay. She denied him so he told her about a neighboring kingdom that might help her get back home.

It was an extraordinary tale that Riddle knew by heart. Even if the details were changed. It didn't mention that Ace became the next "king" after Riddle graduated. Something Yuu complained about often after the power went to his head.

"That's quite the story. You must really like it." Riddle said hand it back to Grimm. "Do you have a character you like most?"

Grimm looked over to his mom be standing on his tip-toes and whispered into Riddle's ears.

"I like the princess."

"Really?" Riddle asked.

"I tried painting the flowers because she really likes red flowers like the princess. All the flowers turned white to red and the princess liked it." Grimm said proudly.

"I have an idea. I know a way to turn roses red. I could show you." He whispered back.

Grimm squealed in excitement and bounced on his fet as he turned to him mom.

"Can we play outside mama?"

Yuu pursed her lips indecisive of what to do next. She fought off the impulse to be suspicious. She trusted Riddle but did she trust him with her son. They hadn't seen each other in years after all.

She also wanted to be a selfish and keep him to herself. She hungered for the familiarity he brought back into her life.

But the warm gaze Riddle gave her settled her mind. She nodded in agreement and watched Grimm drag him away.

From the window Yuu watched as Riddle kneeled down next to Grimm. He had forgotten about trying to keep his suit clean as he pulled out his wand and handed it to Grimm.

Yuu immediately wanted to rush outside to stop him with every excuse as to why Grimm wasn't ready for magic but stopped herself. Grim wasn't her. He wasn't going to go through what she did.

Riddle taught Grimm how to hold the wand properly and asked him to imagine red roses in from of him. Grimm asked a million questions as Riddle calmly answered.

A good mother doesn't press her fears on her child. She wasn't going to traumatize him like she was. Riddle felt the same. He wasn't his mother and never pushed Grimm farther then needed.

A bit of wordless magic later the roses turned a brilliant ruby red.

"Mama! Mama look! Magic! We used magic" Grimm was in awe of this man.

Yuu cheered along when they returned inside knowing that Riddle did all the work.

"Don't you want to give them to the princess? You know that they are her favorites." Riddle smiled kindly.

"Princess? Mama?" Grimm looked to her with a questioning gaze before recognition lit up in his eyes.

Yuu felt her face burning so red that Riddle would be jealous. Which he wasn't but he couldn't help but think it was payback after all these years for her antics.

(This series might take a while to finish. I'm going to try to post more lengthy fics for characters)

Tag List:

@kamisatoaiko@professionalreblogs@kai200x@lianreine@loivre@jackalope08@code-roevember@growingupnrealizing@ryxmix@rainbowcake1212@blazestar0525@botswanasvetlana

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland yuu #riddle rosehearts x reader #twst riddle #twisted wonderland riddle #riddle rosehearts #twisted wonderland grim #twst grim #dire crowley #twst dire crowley #twst divus #divus crewel

[jojobeejpg]

desi vocaloid series pt. 3: kaito!!

let’s be real, he’s already wearing a long tunic and a scarf in his original design. so, this time, he gets an elegant sherwani and a blue shawl, complete with gold accents of course.

since he’s one of the first vocaloid voicebanks, and vocaloid is also celebrating its 20 year anniversary in 2024, I designed i’m to look more mature (as everyone older than 18 are hags anyway—)(please don’t come at me i’m the same age as vocaloid too😭) this is why I added the pronounced brows, facial wrinkles, and gray hair streaks. I was also contemplating giving him facial hair but i ended up not doing so to keep it closer to the original.

this series is fun and stressful at the same time lmao, I’ll probably do either meiko or gumi next, because I already have some ideas to build upon for them. i also have a couple ideas for vflower, but we will have to wait and see :)

#fanart #digital artist #art blog #vocaloid #art #digital art #vocaloid fanart #artists on tumblr #kaito vocaloid #kaito #vocaloid art #vocaart #vocal synth #vocaloids #fan art #desi #digital drawing #digitalsketch #desi fashion #character illustration #redesign #rkgk #sherwani #anime art #full body #hatsune miku colorful stage #desi tumblr #project sekai #virtual singer

[hi-my-name-is-cosmopathy]

Universal Mishap (A Short Casa Tidmouth Fic)

------------------------------------------------

We all know that in the alternate universe, labelled “Casa Tidmouth”, fate has never been really kind to Gordon. But one day, fate decided to give back to Gordon just a little bit. However, I truly emphasize on the fact that it was only a little bit...

.

.

.

It was a very rainy day on Sodor, but it was also a busy day for the workers. Many were with their engines, waiting for their passengers to come aboard, and some were waiting for their trucks to deliver. A splatter and splosh came when Gordon arrived in Knapford Station. The walls were rather damp and the rain came down hard. The hall was filled with many visitors, that the station was rather cramped.

Gordon walked down the puddle-ridden floors, making sure he didn't slip. Passing through, he stopped and took a look at Sodor's Rumours. And there he saw what he didn't want to be reminded of everyday:

SODOR NEWS NWR'S EMPLOYEES DROPPING DEAD LIKE FLIES!

Here on Sodor News, drivers in the North Western Railway have been starting to disappear with no trace. The reason for this event is unknown, however.

Many of the police have been looking for the missing drivers, as they were an important part to this railway.

“What a shame, what a shame”, said one. “I knew one of them. He was a very kind soul, and I'd say he was friends with many people. I don't know what cruel person would wanna lay a finger on him”....

Gordon stopped there as he couldn't stare at it any longer. Waking up alone was already hard enough. His heart had sunk deeper and deeper the more he read the article. He shifted his attention to the rain. The earthly smell and the calming sound reminded him of another rainy day he had with two other people, whom he cherished very much...

“Gordon, look!”

“Oh, bother. It's raining...Henry, do you have an umbrella?”

“What? Why are you asking me? I wasn't aware it was going to rain.”

“Well boo-hoo, neither did I. Edward?”

“Nope. Sorry, Gordon. Looks like we’re all gonna get damped here. Oh, here it comes!”

“Heavens sake! I just got this dried!”

“The rain isn’t that bad, Henry.”

“Huh...wait a minute....”

“Gordon? What are you...—”

“Here, get in.”

“Ah! Come on Henry!”

“Finally! Some shelter from this cursed weather!”

“Hahaha, we're all rather cramped up here! Not that I don't mind.”

“Pah! Of course. It's always an honor to be under the rain with me. After all, I was the one who came up with this clever idea.”

“Well, congratulations, Mr. Cleversome. So wonderful of you to help us ’damsels in distress' with the rain.”

“You were the one complaining about it, you hypocrite!”

“Hush, you two! That's enough. Now, let's go back home, shall we?”

He winced at the memory that was once jovial, now painful to think about. “If only you were still here with me”, he muttered under his breath. Gordon let out a heavy sigh as he turned away and continued walking down the station. “After all, I still have a student to train”, he said to himself.

But just as he was making his way down the crowd, he had a hard collision with someone. The person was just about to fall, until Gordon grabbed them.

At first, he was annoyed. He had enough to deal with this morning and didn't want to add more to his plate. He was just about to lecture them. “It’s okay, just.. please, watch where you’re going next ti....”

But his words trailed off when he saw who was in his arms.

He couldn't believe his eyes.

This person...was..rather old. His skin was wrinkled and he had an average structure. He was shorter than Gordon. His hair had been grayed out with two whiter streaks showing, and he wore a black collared shirt accompanied by a blue vest that had a number 2 imprinted on his right arm, and vibrant overalls, all with red and gold touches. His frail skin had beautiful ivory patches all over it, and most importantly, glasses, that looked similar to the ones put on his face right now. Gordon couldn't believe what he was staring at, and refused to do so. Until, the person opened his voice....

“...Gordon? What happened to you?”, he said in an concerned voice. “You look pale, and...your eyes.. You look terrible! What's the matter?”

His voice was tender and gentle, but the hints of firmness and hoarseness was enough for Gordon to tremble in realization.

To say he was shocked is an understatement. He was terrified. “I must be dreaming”, he thought, as his chest grew tighter and tighter. “This can’t be possible...”

He looked down at the man with a mix of emotions; regret, misery, shock and fear. But the image of this mysterious person only made Gordon hold him tighter. It's feels the same way when he once held one of his friends like this. He felt warm, reassured, safe... But the feeling in his body made him wake up to the reality that this person isn't his, and it made him feel bitter. It was a long moment of silence before Gordon finally spoke...

“...Edward..?”

-----------------------------------------------

You know, maybe we should call this the “Let's Torture Gordon” show instead of “Casa Tidmouth”! /j

I got this idea after looking at @hkpika07 's crossover comic. I liked the idea of torturing Gordon with someone who made him feel happy, but isn't his. I'm kinda happy with how this came out lol

Okie thas it i hope ya like it!

(Casa Tidmouth! Gordon belongs to @bruhstation . The Edward in here is mine.)

#casa tidmouth #casa tidmouth act 2 #ttte #ttte fanfic #ttte fic #ttte edward #ttte gordon #ttte henry #ttte rebecca #thomas the tank engine #ttte fanart #art #ttte humanized #ttte au #ttte human au #wow lol #fanfic #writing

[3pirouette]

Fic: The Paradox of an Old Man (1/1)

Title: The Paradox of an Old Man

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Spoilers: General MCU through Endgame, No Indy Spoilers

Disclaimer: They're not mine :)

Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Summary: Indiana Jones may be nearly immortal, but one of the perks is that he’s lived long enough to see a few things, including finding a close friend again many times over.

A/N: So, even though I have this as a series, some of these stories DO contradict themselves. Basically, I just love playing with this idea of Indy and Steve and Peggy all knowing one another and I’m not going to go too nuts with the details, because the stories are what they are.

This one plays with the idea of Steve and Indy finding one another in the future more than once, and how that affects them both. There’s a larger story in here, but I seem to have a hard time grasping at it. For now- here’s the lighthearted side.

This if for Steggy Week 2k23 (Day 1: Headcanons and Meta - Thank you @steggyfanevents ) and also for @captainjimothycarter , whose unending love for this ridiculous universe only makes me want to write it more.

~*~

2012

Indiana Jones looked near the same as he had 70 years before, and it stunned Steve to his core.

“You were expecting an old man, weren’t you?” Jones stepped back, opening his door wide and sweeping his arm out. He smiled, just a little, as Steve moved past him into his home. “I guess we both got a surprise here.”

Steve turned, shoving his hands in his pockets, nodding. “When Fury told me you were alive…”

“No one knows why,” he threw his hands up, shrugging, before tipping his head and leading Steve into the living room. It was small and lived in, with books and tiny treasures covering every surface. Jones stacked the papers and folders on the coffee table and shoved them in a drawer next to the well-worn couch. “Though a few SHIELD scientists seem to think it has something to do with this cup I drank from…”

“A cup?” Steve looked up, confused, as he sat.

“Cup, chalice of Christ…” He shrugged and grumbled, moving to the small kitchen and pulling two bottles of beer from the refrigerator. “We couldn’t ever find it again to test it, so…” He rolled his eyes as he handed the Steve the bottle, “They think.”

Steve nodded, pulling the cap off his bottle and tapping his against Indy’s. “To old friends.”

He laughed, short and hearty. “To old friends, who both look like they did in 1945.” He took a long drink, sitting in the arm chair across from Steve. “Fury didn’t tell me what happened, just that you were back.”

“It’s a long story.”

“I know the first half,” he muttered, “how’d you survive?”

Steve smiled. “Well, they think…”

~*~

1954

“People are noticing,” Peggy started, folding her hands in front of her.

The gray in Peggy’s hair slipped simply into her chignon, a small streak of something he’d never known.

His dad had lost his hair young, and he couldn’t remember his father without gray in the hair he had left and in his beard. Indiana Jones hadn’t seen a change in his hair, except for the length, in as long as he could remember.

“Nary a wrinkle in twenty years? Yeah, they should.” Jones sat across from her in her office, shaking his head. “What are we going to do about it?”

Peggy sighed. It wasn’t easy to have to have this talk with him. He was a friend. A confidant. He was one fo the smartest men that consulted for SHIELD and sure as hell one of the few that took her leadership seriously. “The current school of thought includes special effects make-up and prosthetics.”

Indy laughed, standing. He paced the room, wringing his hands. “You’re gonna dye my hair gray?”

“Among other things.” She watched him like a tiger in a cage, heart in her throat. “That keeps you here, with us.” She looked down at her desk, tapping her nails on it gently. “The other options are much more-“

“Much more ‘run and hide’ every ten years?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. He turned to her, shaking his head. “If it was anyone but you, Peg, telling me this-“

“You’d have laughed your way out the door by now, I know.” She stood, moving to his side. “Please, I need you to understand. Questions have been raised that we can’t ignore anymore.”

“Everyone in SHIELD has seen a lot more weird shit than a guy that doesn’t age.” He paced away from her, needing the distance. “You’re telling me you can hide the Ark of the Covenant in your yearly reports but I’m a problem?”

“You’re not a problem!” Peggy paused and amended herself, shrugging. “Most of the time.” He smiled at that, and she was happy for the moment of levity. “But this is a problem. One we can stave off for a bit but…”

He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have given you a hard time.” He stepped over and sat back in the chair heavily. “Truth is, people outside of here are starting to notice, too.” He looked up. “So maybe we should talk about the options.”

Peggy sat on the edge of her desk, a little calmer, and a little sadder, knowing this meant an ending was coming. “Let’s do it over dinner, shall we?”

Indy smiled slyly.

~*~

2012

Steve sat back on the sofa, beer warming on the table. “It’s good to know she had you,” he muttered. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but-“

Indy cut him off with a nod. “I see her when I can.” He looked down at his hands. “She has more bad days now than good ones.”

Steve sighed, rubbing his suddenly sweaty hands on his thighs. “I’m uh-“ he cleared his throat, hiding his emotion. “I’m just glad she had a good life.”

Jone’s eyebrows rose. “She told ya about it?”

Steve took a long swing of beer, hiding the time he needed to compose himself. “No, uh, not so much.” He sniffed and took another shorter drink. “She told me mostly about her time with the SSR and SHIELD, but she did tell me she had a family- showed me pictures of her kids and grandkids.”

Jones paused, asking when he couldn’t wait anymore. “Her husband?”

Steve shook his head, looking at the floor. “No, no. It was still- is still-“ he stopped and looked up, eyes a little haunted. “She had a lot more time to get over me than I did to get over her.”

“Still not over her,” Jones commented, drinking from his own beer.

Steve just shook his head. “How do you get over a girl like that?”

Indy stood, taking Steve’s nearly empty bottle from his hands. “Well, if you don’t want to know anything about him, I can respect that.” He slipped both bottles into one hand then let his palm sit on Steve’s shoulder for a minute before heading back into the kitchen.

~*~

2023

When the door opened, Steve was confronted with a man who hadn’t aged a day. Indiana Jones looked exactly the same, with the exception of his mouth hanging agape in surprise, as he had for nearly the last hundred years.

Steve smiled, wrinkles shifting around his face, glad he was able to surprise his friend. “You weren’t expecting an old man, were you?”

Indy stepped forward, hugging his friend. “You’re confusing this old man, now, Rogers.”

“You know well enough, Jones,” Steve pulled back, moving past him and into he home where he felt comfortable as he’d been there many, many times in his life. “I couldn’t remember the exact date-“

“Have to get you a date book with the big print now,” Jones joked, closing the door.

Steve pointed at him, only half smiling at the joke. “So I probably waited a little too long.”

“Saw your young self for the first time last week,” Jones said gently, sitting in his armchair. “You drank all my beer.”

Steve smiled, moving into the kitchen and helping himself to a bottle of water from the refrigerator. He held it up but Jones shook his head. “And ate all your food, as I recall.”

“Damn near all of it,” Indy grumbled good natured.

Steve leaned against the counter, fiddling with the water.

Jones waited patiently for the questions to come, he knew there would be questions.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He smiled. “Because you didn’t know. Because I wasn’t sure if that was how time worked. If it was a paradox that would somehow fix itself or, well, I’m sure you can guess. A million reasons, really.” He spread his hands out. “Every culture has myths about time travel, and none of them tell us what to do with the possibility of paradoxes. I didn’t think it was a good idea to mess with it.”

Steve nodded. “Fair.”

“Better be,” he smiled crookedly, “It’s the only answer I got.”

He slipped to the couch, sipping from his water. “You know, for the longest time, I thought you were the one that married Peg.”

Jones did a double take. “What?”

“You never talked about it, neither did she.” Steve shrugged. “I couldn’t find anything on it, anywhere.”

“Because we were hiding you from yourself, buddy.”

“I know that now,” Steve smiled up at him, “but back then- or now- hard to get a grip on tense with this.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I was convinced that you’d married her.”

Jones leaned forward, elbows on his knees. He took a long, slow breath, and then looked Steve in the eye. “To tell you the truth, I thought about asking her out more than once. There was a gap in there before you showed up…”

Steve leaned back, unbothered. “I wouldn’t have blamed either of you.”

“Gorgeous, smart, quick-“ He sighed, shaking his head. “But she was always yours, and I knew I made the right decision to stay her friend when you showed back up.”

The men smiled at each other. “Still, thanks for looking out for her before I got there.”

“Glad to have done it. She’s my friend, too.”

~*~

1954

“Steve!” Peggy called, unlocking the door. “We’ve got one more for dinner!”

Steve appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, apron slung around his hips and toddler upside down in his arms, smiling when he saw Jones move into the house behind Peggy. “Great.” He walked over, depositing his son in Jones’ only slightly surprised arms. “He’s all yours.”

Steve pecked Peggy on the lips before turning back to the kitchen, Jones tickling the toddler as he squirmed in his grasp, giggling. “Dinner should be ready soon.”

“What’s on the menu?” Jones asked, righting the boy in his arms and tossing him nearly to the ceiling to hear him giggle.

“Roasted chicken!” Steve called from the kitchen. “Maybe potatoes. They’re…”

A pot crashed and Peggy, Indy, and the boy paused, looking towards the empty doorway.

Steve peeked around the edge of the doorframe, apron dripping wet. “Uh- no potatoes.”

Indy huffed, passing Peggy her baby boy and pulled his hat off. “How are you one of the greatest soldiers the word has ever seen and yet incompetent int he kitchen?”

“I’m not completely incompetent,” Steve’s voice drifted as the two men disappeared.

“No, Just mostly,” Jones jabbed, moving back through the space Peggy could see to pull an apron from their cupboard and then stack a new set of potatoes in his arms. “How did you mess up boiling potatoes? Aren’t you Irish?”

“”Well, I-“

Indy was zipping through Peggy’s line of sight, and she smiled as she watched Steve trail behind him like a lost puppy. “And you grew up in Brooklyn, in the Great Depression?”

Steve paused, flopping his hands out to the sides. “Like we had money for potatoes.”

“Just… focus on the chicken before you burn the damn thing,” Jones ordered, before leaning out, smiling at Peggy. “There will be potatoes.”

Peggy just laughed, cuddling her boy to her chest.

“Oh, goodness,” she muttered, shaking ehr head, before calling back out. “I’ll be in my office, then. Don’t burn the place down please.”

Their voices, in chorus, answered her as she moved down the hall. “I won’t!” The unspoken part, full of levity, was that neither man could really be sure if the other wouldn’t, though.

Peggy wouldn’t have it any other way.

#Steggyweek23 #Steggy fic #steggyfanevents #3P’s Fic #Indiana Jones crossover

[antilocaprine]

Frenrey w 23 or 50 (or if you feel you have the energy combine them? I feel they could be combined but it's your call)

(Kiss Prompt List)

50: ...out of love.

Gordon’s hair has mostly gone gray now, with white streaks from his temples and at the edges of his still-tightly-trimmed beard. He’s smugly proud of the volume of hair he still has. He doesn’t say this, of course, but Benrey can tell by the amount of time he puts into the combing and washing and trimming of it.

Benrey himself is going bald, mostly to make Gordon laugh and preen in comparison. He lets wrinkles form on his cheeks and brow, lets the bags under his eyes grow, and sprinkles some salt strands into his own dark hair.

They make quite a dignified couple, sitting on the front porch and looking out across the low mists wreathing the fields in the mountain town they moved to a decade after Joshua finished college and moved to Brazil. He’s partnered with some futuristic food company to work on the development of a new strain of cashews, and rides with the local gauchos in his time off. Gordon and Benrey talk to him several times a week on Gordon’s tablet, though Joshua whines about that at least once a month (“Dad, c’mon, let me get you a newer model, please”). But the tablet is the only thing left in the house that can load Benrey’s favorite old games, so Gordon refuses to upgrade.

Benrey thinks that feels a little like love.

“Did you see this?” Gordon says suddenly, and Benrey glances up from the tablet only to get a faceful of newsprint. 

“I see that you’re a grandpa,” Benrey grumbles and reaches up with one hand to push the newspaper back far enough that he can actually see the article Gordon is pointing to.

“Shut up,” Gordon says affectionately. “Tommy’s invested in the local news, we have to support it.”

“Tommy should’ve, uh, invested in something that’s better, then.” Benrey squints at the headline, then rears back, setting the porch swing (another mark in the grandpa column) to swaying. “Whuh - is that -?”

“Yes!” Gordon snaps, pulling the newspaper back and spinning it to glare down at the article. “Margaret Heinrichs is running for mayor!”

“She can’t even run a, uh, chili contest,” Benrey says.

“Exactly! And speaking of, look - look!” He holds the paper back up to Benrey’s face, one metal finger tapping aggressively at a line of text. “The firehouse is supporting her run! After what they said about the last chili cook-off!”

“Oh, what’d they say?” Benrey doesn’t remember hearing about this - though that may have been because he had to tiptoe around the house for two weeks after Gordon lost the cook-off on a technicality, even though all five judges agreed his chili was far better than Margaret’s.

“They said it was a disgrace,” Gordon says vehemently. “The chief himself told me that no one had ever enforced that rule before. Ten year’s residency, my ass - it’s fucking stupid!”

“It’s only been, what, eight years?” Benrey muses. “You gonna try again this year?”

“Fuck yes I’m gonna try again,” Gordon growls, newspaper crinkling in the tight grip of his metal hand. His flesh hand trembles a little these days, off and on, but the metal hand is strong and true. Benrey’s not sure how to feel about that sometimes.

“You gonna - same recipe?”

“No,” Gordon says, and gives him a feral grin. “I’m using a better one. Nuclear option or bust.”

Benrey’s eyebrows go up. “Oh, shit?”

“That’s right,” Gordon says, settling his shoulders against the porch swing’s backrest and smiling out at the thinning mist. “Grandma’s recipe.”

“Oh, shit,” Benrey chuckles. “Yeah, that’ll - that’ll knock their socks off.” He taps his foot against Gordon’s. Gordon snorts and taps him back.

“You and feet, man,” he says. “Always with the feet.”

“You love it,” Benrey replies automatically, and Gordon tilts his head toward him and smiles gently.

“Yeah,” he says. “I really, really do.”

They lapse into silence, and over the years Benrey has learned the different flavors of Gordon’s silences. This one starts out scheming, then transforms into something more wistful and contemplative. Benrey advances two more levels in his game, then decides he’s bored and hooks a foot behind Gordon’s ankle.

Gordon blinks and starts a little. “Hmm?”

“What’s your, uhhh plans?”

“Take down Margaret,” Gordon replies promptly.

Benrey huffs a short laugh. “No, I, uh. I meant for today.”

“Oh.” Gordon links his fingers and stretches his arms out in front of him, then catches the newspaper before it can slide off his lap. “I can’t just do that today?”

“Uh…” Benrey thinks for a moment. “I guess, but then we’d prob’ly have to, uh. Go into hiding or something.”

“Eh, Tommy could fix that for us,” Gordon says, waving a hand.

Benrey grins at him. “Okay, so, d’you wanna kill her?”

Gordon takes a deep breath and heaves a sigh that sounds like it comes all the way from his feet. (Yeah, okay, Benrey knows what he likes.) 

“I guess we shouldn’t,” he says. “Anyway, it’ll be way more satisfying to beat that hag at her own game.”

“Poison?”

Gordon snorts. “No, man, chili.”

“Poison in the chili?”

“Oh, now there’s a thought,” Gordon says, tapping at his lip with a metal finger. “But how to keep it away from the judges…?”

Benrey makes a dismissive noise, and Gordon cracks, cackling loudly enough that it startles a small flock of crows from the line of pine trees across the road.

“Let’s not even start,” Gordon says, lifting his glasses to wipe moisture from the corners of his eyes. “Don’t even - if I start thinking about how easy it would be to do, I’m gonna fucking do it, and then we really will have to leave.”

“Yeah, but - it’d be worth it,” Benrey says, leaning back and throwing an arm across the backrest. Gordon leans against it and sighs as Benrey curls his hand around Gordon’s shoulder.

“Nah, not yet. I like it here.”

They gaze out across the fields and toward the line of dark trees that the crows are circling back down into, still cawing reproachfully. Benrey’s tempted to change shape and go bother them, but he resists the urge. Sometimes when he changes back, he forgets to add the age marks - and he sees the look on Gordon’s face when Benrey appears, even for a moment, to be the same age he was the day they met. He’s not, of course - time moves forward for them all, even when it’s stopped - but Benrey’s appearance has always been under his control more than most.

“We should go make food,” Gordon says after a few minutes, but he makes no effort to move. Benrey runs his fingers up and down Gordon’s shoulder, and taps the inside of his ankle with his foot.

“Yeah?” Benrey mumbles, attention torn between playing his game one-handed and studying Gordon’s graying profile.

“Well,” Gordon says. “Eventually.”

The midmorning sun is finally breaking over the tall pine trees, its heat burning out the last wisps of mist. A car passes by on the county road - one of the newer models with hardlight tires. Benrey’s been in those, and he’s always a little disturbed by the silence. He much prefers the rattle and crunch of traditional rubber tires. At least then you know you’re connected to the road. Hardlight tires sound the same if they’re driving over a hill or driving off a cliff, and Benrey doesn’t trust what he can’t hear.

“D’you remember that brand of soda that we kept getting from those two vending machines? The ones outside Darnold’s lab?” Gordon’s voice sounds a bit distant, and Benrey’s grip on his shoulder tightens involuntarily.

“The one with the, uh, gamer colors?”

“Yes! Those ones.”

“I think it was, uh.” Benrey makes a face as he dredges his memories. “I think it was called Glub?”

“It was not.” Gordon’s voice is flat. Benrey shrugs.

“S’what I remember.”

“Is it? Fuck, how could I forget that?” Gordon’s voice trails off, and he leans further into Benrey’s side. “Fucking…Glub soda? Glub cans? Cans of Glub?”

“Can’t you Glub?” Benrey says, and he feels the memory ping in Gordon’s brain as he tenses, then laughs.

“That’s right - okay, I remember now. ‘I can Glub - can you Glub?’ We had Tommy going in circles.”

“You didn’t even like the flavor.”

“I didn’t! None of us did, it was terrible! No wonder no one outside Black Mesa has ever heard of it!”

“Well, scientists have no taste, so -” Benrey is interrupted by Gordon leaning back and whacking him playfully with the newspaper. He holds up one hand and struggles to continue. “So how could you tell if it was good or -”

“I will kill you,” Gordon cackles, and the porch swing sways wildly under them, the metal chains creaking. “Watch it, watch - you’re gonna break our fucking chair!”

“Oh noooo,” Benrey drawls, and goes for his own nuclear option to end the conflict. He wraps a hand around the back of Gordon’s skull and tugs him down into a teeth-clacking kiss.

Gordon laughs into his mouth and returns the kiss, quieting immediately. Benrey winds his fingers through the silver strands of Gordon’s hair and tugs gently. Gordon mumbles something unintelligible against his lips and cups Benrey’s face with both hands - one sun-warmed metal, and one blood-warmed flesh. The newspaper finally escapes to the wooden planks of the porch with a rustle.

Gordon disengages first, then smacks a kiss to the top of Benrey’s balding head. Benrey grins and tugs a lock of gray hair over Gordon’s shoulder, wrapping it around his finger and kissing it in turn - and that feels a little like love.

“So,” he says. “Margaret?”

Gordon’s face darkens. “Fuck Margaret,” he says. “Well, not - ugh, you know what I mean.”

Benrey snorts and runs a hand down Gordon’s arm to link their fingers together. “Yeah, I know.”

“C’mon,” Gordon says, and tugs their linked hands to pull Benrey to his feet, leaving the newspaper on the floor as he heads for the door. “I’ve got a chili recipe to find.”

Benrey raises their joined hands and presses a quick kiss to the back of Gordon’s knuckles as they head for the kitchen, and is only mildly surprised to feel metal against his lips. He hadn’t even noticed that it was Gordon’s prosthetic hand he was holding. They’re both Gordon’s, after all.

Soon, the kitchen will fill with the smell of browning meat, black beans, green chili, and spices. Soon, Benrey will be called upon to be the taste tester, and will have to come up with slightly different words of praise for each batch. Soon, Joshua will call and they will bicker over the tablet, and the upcoming cookoff, and the similarities of their two towns, separated by half a world. But right now, Benrey squeezes Gordon’s hand tighter, and admires the way the lines around his eyes crinkle when he smiles, and watches his silver hair dance as he whirls through the house, dragging Benrey after him like he can’t imagine doing anything without him.

And, well, okay. Benrey supposes that this all feels an awful lot like love.

#hlvrai #my words #kiss prompts #snippets #askbox #on anon #swearing #domestic #old men yell at clouds #aka local old lady monopolies #the text is looking super fucking weird - like some of it's bigger #but it says it's all the same size #so wtf #maybe it's just my monitor #we'll find out i guess

[eggmarr]

hi!! could i ask 4 number eight favorite crime with kazuha please?? cuz hes yk.. kinda a criminal? thank you so much if you do my request!! <3

things i did (143 event drabble)

pairing: kazuha x gn!reader (wanderers, pre-storyline)

warnings: angst, feelings of inadequacy and being unused to love on both sides of a relationship, possible commitment issues on reader’s part, communication issues but technically they just don’t talk about it but understand, possibly ooc kazuha but this is supposed to be part of his character development, a pinch of comfort at the end, 

a/n: this genuinely gave me pain to write. angst. and if you’re asking yourself how this fits in with the event theme, i want to say that this represents the kind of love that only shows itself proper when it’s lost / right person wrong time (GOD IT HURTS JUST TO TYPE IT 😔) also i kinda wrote this in bits and late at night so forgive the coherence in some places :,)

songs: favorite crime - olivia rodrigo, anaheim - niki, movies - conan gray, oceans & engines - niki

The fact that neither you nor Kazuha are used to this kind of love is the bittersweet truth hidden behind each tender embrace.

You can see his hesitation, oh so easy to find when it mirrors your own in the wake of sweet nothings, in linked fingers that stop just short of intertwined and ignoring the fitful nightmares you take turns waking for.

Silent tears stream down his cheeks, a quiet kind of sorrow that only grows as time passes. Your thumbs brush the mourning dew away as it sparkles in the sunlight - something picturesque yet ill-fitting for two wanderers.

Kazuha is bound by his wanderlust; it is his yearning to see the expanse of the world at his fingertips that attracted you to him on that fateful day, and it is that same feeling that splits you into two.

Now, he rests deeply in his cot on the Alcor, breath after breath fading away with the sway of the ship and flickering lamplight. Your fingers card through his loose hair as he slumbers, smoothing the streaks of red and pale blonde across the blanket you share.

(“If you’re still planning on going, you should do it while you still can.” Beidou whispers in your ear, inclining her head at the faraway Kazuha. “You’ll always have a spot on the Alcor, if that’s what you want.”)

…What do you want?

Shouldn’t it be this? This momentary lapse in time, this spare break in the turning wheel where you can simply rest in the hold of someone you-

Ah. That’s it.

You’re scared, aren’t you?

Your hands retract from Kazuha’s, tracing the space as if his touch has burned you.

He’s just as aware of it as you are, and yet this facsimile still persists.

(“You are what appears when the word ‘serendipity’ comes to mind.” He murmurs, tracing patterns and letters into your skin that he has yet to speak aloud.)

He’s still in your grasp, and yet he’s already gone.

You shouldn’t have to convince yourself that this is for the best.

But, before your heart can speak, your head has already made way to mark the end.

———

“For my dear Kazuha,” He reads, ruby eyes stinging at their corners. “I’m sorry.”

Fingers that once stopped just short trace the lines of your script, following line after line of harsh strokes and wrinkled dots in the ink.

“You, of all, understand the quandaries that plague wanderers, no? To follow the wind, and to be truly free, is to understand and release the burdens that haunt you first.”

He finds it within himself to curse those words, letters that fell from his tongue with little thought.

“I despise the fact that I couldn’t say this in person,” Your voice echoes in his ears. “But if I saw you, I don’t think I’d be able to leave.”

He can feel your hands against his face, yet the tears still carve their path.

“Neither of us are at the point where we can stop searching, traveling, yearning for the answers to the questions that follow us to every port.”

How did he not see? How could he be so blind?

“I know you well enough that you must be beating yourself up about this, but the answer is plain and simple; you would regret it for the rest of your life if you found yourself settled right now.”

A sob escapes his throat, stifled with the hand you rewrapped only last night.

“Now, I can’t linger too long-“ He has to blink away the haze, begging your words to last until he can find you again. “-But I do want you to know that our paths are sure to meet again. If not, I’ll make sure of it.”

Kazuha’s voice echoes your final line - “To you, my hope, be well and stay true.”

(Oh, how he hates telling you later that you were right, stumbling through the words as you brush away his tears with a smile brighter than sunlight.)

#kazuha x reader #genshin impact x reader #kaedehara kazuha #genshin kazuha #genshin impact #genshin x reader #forgive me anon #kazuha my beloved i’m sorry #god i need sleep #cass.100

[rmoonstoner]

So Strange

***

Note:

I am starting at the point of when Stephen is already in Tibet. We don't need a retelling of the story on how he got there, because it's literally the same.

First chapter is a bunch of memories/small blerbs about events that are different from the Canon timeline.

Warnings:

No major warnings at this time. Just a lot of whumpy feelings. Maybe some traumatic experience memories. Foul language. Story is PG to start, but will progress to NSFW/18+ eventually, with Stephen being paired with the fem!reader at a later date.

No one has proofread for me. If you are interested, please let me know. If you would like to be tagged, please let me know.

***

Chapter 1 - So Strange

***

How did he get here? He knew how, but why had he allowed himself to get to this low of a level, before reaching out for help. He was a jaded man that was desperate for his old life back, and in that desperation, he had rejected the ones he cared about most in this world. He had outright lashed out at the love of his life, because he couldn't accept his fate.

He tried everything to fix it, but nothing worked past getting his hands good enough to hold a cup, let alone being able to write. He once had beautiful writing, but now it looked worse than a family doctor's chicken scratched prescriptions.

He had exhausted all of his options, and when they all eventually failed, he would throw a fit and lash out at anyone whether or not they deserved it.

They never deserved it.

His friends and family, and eventually, his girlfriend all left him. They couldn't tolerate his crazed rants or frenzied plans to regain the original movement he once had in his hands. He had become ruder and meaner then he used to be. Now he resembled a very grumpy old man. He even had the scraggly beard, unkempt hair, and he looked older than he did during the accident. The graying streaks on the slide of his head were now more prominent and turned white from the stress and his constant misery. It was evident on his face where the wrinkles deepened.

Now here he sat, on dusty stone steps, watching the world go by as he leaned against the heavy wooden door of the Kamar-Taj. He had been turned away when he first arrived. It had been seven days since he refused to budge from the spot.

He was growing weaker by the day, having spent every last cent to his name. He only held a shitty flip phone and the watch he was gifted by his ex.

He was losing almost any hope of gaining entry to this mysterious place that claimed to be able to heal injuries that even his own colleagues could not (and did not want to) fix.

It came down to selling his watch. The only thing of sentimental value he had left of his beloved. He knew it held more monetary value and he needed food to survive…

So, as his stomach threatened to burn holes through his lining, he finally broke down and decided to sell the watch.

For the first time in days, he decided to leave the steps, going farther into the market with purpose. More so then when he went into the market when just going to find a spot to relieve himself.

He wandered the market, looking for a stall that would take his broken keepsake. He knew it was worth a pretty penny, even if it had damage. The glass plate could be replaced and the gears inside just needed to be realigned. After visiting three stalls, he finally found one that appeared to show interest in the watch. He was just trying to barter with one merchant, and getting told a resounding no, when another overheard the conversation.

"Excuse me, I saw that you're trying to sell your watch. May I have a look at it?" It was an old woman with a veil over her face.

She was dressed in old yellow robes and scraps of cloth. She didn't appear to be the type that could offer him anything helpful, but he was desperate. For once, he kept his snarky comments to himself and approached her with a slow nod.

"Yes. Yes, I am trying to sell my watch." He replied and held up the item in question. She glanced down and hummed.

"Aren't you that man that's been camped out on the temple steps for the past week?" She asked, and he nodded.

"The same one that was almost robbed of this very watch that you claimed meant the world to you?" She asked another question and he didn't hesitate.

"Yes." He murmured softly.

"Why have you changed your mind?"

"I… The person who gave this to me is no longer in my life, because I allowed my anger and my depression to get the better of me. I was cruel to her and pushed her away. It's value to me is no longer sentimental, but now a constant and unbearable reminder of how I failed her, and everyone around me."

"Ah, I see. It sounds more like you failed yourself by being much too harsh on yourself. Tell me, young man, what is it you need the money for?" She asked as she looked up to see his tired looking face.

"I am hungry. I need food. I am cold at night, and my blankets have holes. I want to use some of the money to use the bathhouse, because I am sure I smell terrible." Stephen explained through tears that threatened to spill from his eyes.

"Well you certainly do smell terrible. Tell you what, I shall give you a basket of fruits and veggies, some cheeses, dried meats, nuts, seeds, and grains. I can add bread and some water. On top of this, I will give you more every day for as long as you need, if you agree to help me with my chores. I cannot offer you a place to stay, but I can help you look for one." She said with a calm and kind voice.

He mulled it over for a few seconds, trying to decide if this was really worth giving away his watch. The woman waited patiently as he thought about it.

He was stuck in Tibet, with no money, and nothing else to his name. His hands were crippled and he was useless to find a normal job. His clothing was in tatters, and he had been starved for weeks, just barely able to get by.

"I… I accept your terms. What do you want me to do?" He sighed in defeat and passed the watch over to her.

"Thank you, Stephen. Here's your basket of goodies, and I'll see you again tomorrow at noon back here." The old woman said as she handed him a basket that definitely wasn't there before.

"Thank you, kindly." He was too hungry to question it, or how she knew his name. She hadn't turned the watch over to see the back engraving.

"Wait. Please take this as well." She added with a smile as he produced a weathered old guitar and a pack of new strings.

Stephen stared at the guitar, wondering if she'd lost her mind. It was such an insensitive gift, given that he had showed her his hands, yet he said nothing and took the gift anyway. He slung the guitar over his back and set the strings into his pocket as he thanked her again, but when he turned around, she and her stall were gone.

Baffled, he made his way back to the steps at the temple, sitting down and digging into the food he had received. He decided it was well worth the indentured servitude that was to come. He didn't even look at the guitar that night.

***

The next day, Stephen had returned to the old woman's stall. It felt like it was a few blocks closer then it was the day before, and Stephen was absolutely certain it was twenty blocks away, and not sixteen. He dismissed the oddity as her not being able to set up in the same place as before. Perhaps some other merchant had taken her previous spot. He didn't even bother to go check.

Today he was tasked with hanging up fabrics for one of her stall neighbors. It took him over an hour, but they were patient with him as he painstakingly clipped hangers to each garment and hung them up on hooks. He was given a basket of food, a voucher for the bathhouse, and then told to come back at the same time the next day.

Stephen happily went to the bathhouse with his basket and found a small spot in a corner next to a grumpy looking bald man. He was careful to avoid bothering him as he got to the stall where he was supposed to do a proper cleaning, before stepping foot into the shared water space.

He took his bags, the guitar, and his clothing off, setting them down in a way that gave him barely any privacy. He washed himself efficiently, but harshly, trying to scrub every bit of dirt and grime away as best as he could. His doctor's training had him washing certain areas repeatedly, to the point of using the sponge to turn his skin red. He even took the time to clean under his nails and wash his face and hair thoroughly, before he stepped into the warm pool of water.

"You sure took a long time over there." The man in the pool said.

Stephen blinked when he heard perfect English and he turned his head to look at him.

"I… I uh… I was backpacking for a while. Haven't had a chance to bathe."

"But you used the entire bar of soap."

"I like to be extra clean."

"You washed everything four times."

"I used to be a surgeon. Old habits die hard." Stephen sighed and he slowly sank down to his shoulders and leaned against the wall.

"A surgeon? Then why do you look like a homeless bum?"

Normally, Stephen would have been offended and had a snarky remark to show just how offended he was, but he had the wind knocked from his sails recently. He just sighed deeply and held his scarred and twisted looking hands up to show the man.

"Oh… I'm sorry I asked."

"It's alright. That was my old life. I'll never be a surgeon again." Stephen's voice was hollow as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the water.

"Why are you here, then?"

"I came here in the hopes of finding the Kamar-Taj and maybe receive help in repairing my hands. I apparently can't get them to even open the door for me." Stephen explained while he rubbed his tired feeling legs.

"Oh? They don't just let anyone in, you know."

"I know. I've given up for a bit. I am helping out a merchant with her stall to pass the time. She gives me food and drink, and she gave me a voucher to come here, so I don't scare her customers away with my funk." He laughed as he looked at his hands. They still had dark creases, stains from going so long without a cleansing.

"Well, perhaps you should take this time to help her and regain your strength."

"Yeah. I think I will."

The two men talked for a while. Stephen learned that his name was Hamir and that he lived nearby. He told Stephen stories of the local lore, areas to avoid, and areas that were a must see. Stephen offered to share his goodies with him, and they both happily ate and exchanged stories about their lives.

It wasn't long, before Hamir had to go, and Stephen decided he should leave as well. Again, he made his way back towards the temple with his little half empty basket and fell asleep against the doorframe.

***

For three weeks, Stephen kept coming back to the old woman's stall to do small tasks for her. Each time he made the journey, he found the stall had gotten closer each time. Fifteen blocks away, then twelve, and then ten. He thought it was very peculiar that she kept moving her stall, but he didn't question it at all. When the stall couldn't get any closer to the Kamar-Taj, it stayed still and didn't move again.

He also started to mess around with the guitar over these weeks. He tried it out and hated how the tuning sounded. He changed the strings and tuned it perfectly, yet his fingers could barely play. He would only practice when he sat at the steps of the temple, and he sounded awful.

He spent a week folding fine linens and packaging them up into protective canvas sacks. After work he would go back to the temple and practice until he fell asleep.

He spent another week hanging herbs and spices to dry. Again, he would go back and practice the instrument.

On the third week, he helped pack jars and envelopes with dried spices. He didn't even realize that each task was gradually getting harder and longer, nor did he notice that was gradually getting better at handling the guitar. He still sounded terrible, so he didn't even notice.

By the beginning of the fourth week, Hamir had found him again. Stephen was busy beating dirt and dust from the mats of several stalls around the one the old woman had. He was covered in dirt and sweat as the man approached the old woman and chatted with her for a few moments. Stephen glanced up and noticed Hamir, giving a wave, before going right back to work on the last mat.

"Hello! It's good to see you again!" Hamir said as he came up to Stephen. He didn't seem to mind the dust flying at him as Stephen worked.

"Hello, Hamir. It is good to see you again." Stephen greeted back with a half smile.

"I see you're working hard, just like you said you would." Hamir commented, causing Stephen to chuckle.

"I am trying to earn my keep. Granny Tilly has been so kind and patient. I owe it to her to help out, even if I am only able to do minimal tasks."

"Don't you find it beneath you?"

"I used to… But now… I am just grateful for any help that I can get." Stephen quietly admitted.

Hamir raised his brows and then gave Stephen a smile as he watched the broken man put the mat down and roll it up. Once he was done, he patiently stood back as he watched the old woman make up a small basket for Stephen to take away. Stephen gave his thanks and went to leave, when Hamir asked to accompany him back to wherever he went after work.

Along the way, Hamir asked Stephen a series of questions.

"Where do you go after work?"

"I go back to the temple and I sit outside of the doors. I practice with this old guitar that Grandma Tilly gave to me. I'm not very good at it."

"I see. Do you even knock? Surely they can hear you playing."

"Oh, yes. Certainly. I knock when I get back, but no one answers. I knock when I wake up, and again, no one answers. I've seen people go in and come out, but never when I am sitting by the door. By the time I can reach the door and knock, no one comes. When I play, no one complains or tells me to stop." Stephen said sadly and he flexed his hands repeatedly while switching the basket to his other hand every so often.

"Perhaps you need to do something else to gain their attention. Are you musically inclined at all?" Hamir asked with a small smile, but Stephen's face didn't change much from his pitiful expression.

"No. I don't play anything well. I've just been trying to get my fingers to move enough to make the chords."

"Shame-"

"But! I am very good at hearing pitch and tone, and I know all the musical terminology. I can tell you any song after hearing only a few seconds of it. Uh, if I have heard it before and know the name."

"Really?"

"Yes. There's an app that does that as well, and I can beat it frequently. I just need to hear a song once in its entirety to be able to remember it." Stephen said with a small smile beginning to develop at the corners of his face.

Hamir seemed both impressed and skeptical at this information. Without another word, he fished out a small iPod from his robes and turned it on. In seconds, a tune was playing, and Stephen's eyes lit up.

"Freebird, by Lynyrd Skynyrd. It came out in the beginning of November 1974, but was made in April on the 3rd, the previous year." He compulsively blurted out the answer and a little bit more. Hamir grinned and immediately changed the song.

"Wannabe, by the Spice Girls. Released on June 26th, 1996." Stephen happily said. Again the song changed.

"Boulevard of Broken Dreams, by Green Day. It was put out on November 29th, 2004." Stephen was now becoming excited.

He enjoyed this little game, and he missed it terribly when Christine and the other medical staff used to play it with him. Hamir was now fully invested in this, now actively looking for songs to stump Stephen. He picked an obscure song, hoping it would. Not even ten seconds into the song, Stephen snapped his fingers and hopped up and down with an answer.

"Maxwell's Silver Hammer. The Beatles. Recording started on July 9th through to the 11th, and finished on August 6th of 1969. It was released on September 26th the next month." Stephen had a good hold on the song.

Almost every song Hamir presented to him, he genuinely enjoyed. He wasn't a fan of the Spice Girls, but it didn't bother him.

"Fantastic job, but are you willing to keep this game going?"

"Oh, yes. Throw anything you want at me. If you stump me, that'll surprise me. All I ask, is that if I haven't heard it, that we listen to it in its entirety, then you tell me what it's called and the artist who made it."

"Deal. I'll even do you one better. I'll let you read the Wiki page for it, so you can get all the neat little facts. Next, try this one." Hamir grinned as he hit play on the next song.

"Get Along. It is the theme song to the Japanese Anime, Slayers, season one. It aired on April 7th, 1995. It was performed by Megumi Hayashibara and Masami Okui, and the lyrics were written by Satomi Arimori. It was composed by Hidetoshi Satō, and it was arranged by Tsutomu Ōhira." Stephen said, much to Hamir's surprise.

"How the hell did you even know that one?"

"My ex's niece used to watch it. I found it… Weird, but it was entertaining. I enjoy that animation style quite a lot actually. A little odd they focused a lot on how large the main character's breasts were. That shouldn't be an issue when Lina is a powerful sorceress that can burn a man to a crisp." Stephen said as he went into detail about the show. He wouldn't admit it, but he loved anime for the extremely complicated magic portrayal they had.

"Well I don't think I am going to use any more anime, then. Here, try this one on for size." This time Stephen was listening for a good forty seconds, and Hamir thought he had finally stumped Stephen, when Stephen again, spoke up.

"Yuve Yuve Yu, by The Hu, and that's H U, not W H O. I was told it was released in 1998."

"Okay, now how do you know this one?"

"I heard it at the airport when I first came here. I liked it enough, that I asked who the artist was."

"I'm impressed. Ah, it looks as though we have arrived at the temple." Hamir announced as he motioned to the door.

Stephen frowned. For the first time in a while, he had been genuinely enjoying himself and now it was cut short.

"Oh… Yeah… I guess you have to go now, right?"

Hamir nodded and waited. Stephen stared at him, then looked back at the door. Reluctantly, he went up and gave a good couple of knocks and stood back to wait. After a few moments, Stephen sighed and his shoulders slumped.

Hamir stepped forward. Stephen was confused, because no one had answered. Was is friend going to try again for him?

Hamir got up to the door and cleared his throat, before knocking a certain way.

Knock, knock.

Pause.

Knock.

Pause.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Hey, it's alright. They won't answer." Stephen sighed and placed a hand to Hamir's shoulder.

No sooner had he spoken, then the door opened with a loud creak. The same man that had saved Stephen from his attack earlier that month was standing there with a hard look on his face that quickly changed when he saw Hamir.

"Oh! Master Wong! It's good to see you! How was your day out?" The man said as he respectfully bowed before Hamir.

Stephen's face fell into shock as Hamir smiled and bowed back. His jaw slowly dropped and Hamir turned to him with twinkling eyes.

"Master Mordo, can you please get some tea ready for my guest?" Hamir requested and he motioned for Stephen to come forward.

Stephen's mouth snapped shut and he came over while looking particularly nervous. Hamir let him in, while Mordo left to grab some tea.

"Master… Wong?" Stephen asked and looked around the inside of the building as he processed the title's meaning.

"Ah, yes. My name is Master Hamir Wong. Please, just call me Wong. I am one of the many masters here at the Kamar-Taj. Please, have a seat."

Stephen was promptly given a chair to sit in, with it literally being shoved under him. He sat down awkwardly and looked around, finding no one there that could have shoved the chair at him. When he looked back, there was now a coffee table, and a cup of steaming hot tea.

"So, Doctor Strange… I've gotten to know you over a few meetings. I've seen the good you've been doing for Grandma Tilly, and the other market vendors. She's said that you don't complain about the tasks she gives you, but you do moan and mope about your lost life and your sore hands. I mean, that's fair, given everything you have gone through."

Stephen hung his head and went to pick up the tea cup with both of his shaking hands as Wong continued to speak.

"I also know why you came here. You wish to heal yourself. I believe you can, and move on from the sadness you are drowning in. With time, you will even regain almost one hundred percent of the use of your hands."

Stephen's face lit up and he sat up in his seat. He looked down at his twisted fingers and then back up at Hamir.

"Almost completely?" He asked hopefully. A small part of him still clung to the idea that he could go back to his glamorous old life of being a surgeon.

"That depends on you, and your willingness to surrender yourself to our teachings." A familiar voice rang out.

Stephen looked over to see the old woman he had been helping. She had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, and now she looked far younger than she did before. She was dressed in golden robes with fine embroidery, and she gave Stephen a knowing smile.

Again his jaw dropped.

"Grandma… Tilly?"

"Yes, but also no. My name is Master Yao, but everyone calls me the Ancient One. I am pleased that you have proven yourself worthy enough to gain entry into this place. I had Master Mordo and Master Wong follow you around. Mordo stayed hidden, up until you were assaulted, then he vanished again to keep an eye on you. Wong's role to was to see how you react to others that weren't helping you with anything, except friendship."

"So… You were testing me all that time?"

"Yes, Stephen, I was. I have seen many possible futures, and instead of being harsh on you, I decided that we should take a different path, the one you've just gone down. It was either that, or the path where I put you in your place by sending you to Mount Everest to nearly freeze to death."

Stephen's face fell and he looked confused.

"What? Possible futures? Choosing a different path? What does that mean?" He asked and she slowly sat down in front of him.

With a wave of her hand, she made another teacup appear on the table, and then it began to fill with with piping hot tea. Stephen watched, transfixed as she had a sip, and started to move her hand. The tea cup set itself down onto the table and she gave him a smile.

"It means, that had you been allowed to enter our sanctuary the first week you arrived, you would have been ten times more insufferable than your current self." She explained and showed him a small viewing orb with scenes of him helping her and the other merchants.

"By asking for your help as a feeble old woman, you learned to listen to others that you once considered beneath you. It allowed you to work on using your hands and getting used to real work again. It helped you calm down, and be less angry with yourself and the world. It taught you respect and manners, and how to take what life gives you and be less, how the kids say, angsty about it." When Yao finished, the orb faded away, the last image was of Stephen giving her the watch.

Stephen was mesmerized by the display of what he could only call magic. It explained the appearing chair when no one was there. It explained the suddenly there tea, with no sign of Master Mordo, the one who was tasked with getting the tea in the first place. It explained the viewing orbs and the way the woman had made her own tea appear, and even tilted the cup to show him how it was slowly filling with tea.

But that wasn't possible, was it?

Sure, there were supernatural things out there, but science had explained almost all of them

Tony Stark's whole deal with his technology and the reactor core in his chest. But it was science, not magic.

How genetics had mutated the human genome to create Mutants, Inhumens, Spiders, and other closely related things. Again, science.

Black Widow and Captain America were modified through scientific testing and research.

Hawkeye had professional training to be the sharp shooter that he was. That was a special science as well.

Doctor Bruce Banner, a man Stephen highly respected, had been turned into The Hulk by Gamma radiation when he really should have died…

But it did not explain how the Mighty Thor could use a hammer that seemingly had no tech inside to power it, or help the supposed God fly. It didn't explain the lightning, or the basic fact that Thor, was most indeed, Thor from the legends.

It did not explain Wanda, the Scarlet Witch. Her name was literally screaming, 'Magic!'

He looked down at his tea, and smacked his lips, then he looked up at Yao. He was starting to think that he might have possibly been drugged with something. Maybe she had been microdosing him with mushrooms or something…

"And no, Doctor, it's not psilocybin, or LSD, or anything else for that matter. It is just tea, with a little honey. What you are seeing is very real, and you can learn to do it, too." She said calmly as she pulled yet another orb up and showed Stephen images from his past.

It started with his sister's death, moved on to him studying, then showed him graduating.

A whole montage of Stephen played while he was working at the hospital. It showed him moving up in the rankings of the best surgeon in the city within weeks of landing a job. Within three months, he had become a sensation in the medical world, and was the top surgeon for all of the world.

But then more of those hospital images played, showing just how dark and unkind Stephen had become over time. It showed the many people he had refused, just because their insurance wouldn't cover the procedures, or that they just weren't interesting cases. A high mortality rate followed his refusal to do those surgeries, and the ones that lived, had twisted and horrible lives.

It showed the one man he had refused. The one that was desperate and begged Stephen to take his case, but the doctor had given him a resounding 'No.' Stephen wasn't swayed by the tears he had shed. It was the same man Stephen had later begged and pleaded with to share his secrets to his healing process.

Another image played, going to the car accident. Stephen could have sworn he saw two images playing at once. One appeared to show the actual crash, exactly how it happened, with him ending up with his broken hands. The other that overlapped it, showed the same crash, but Christine was with him, and she ended up dead.

He was horrified to see that secondary image. He felt goosebumps prickle his skin all over, and he swallowed thickly, before going for his tea. He never even thought about that possibility. Stephen grabbed his tea and drank another sip, thankful that didn't actually happen to him, even if it felt very real.

"Now, Doctor Stephen Strange, a doctor by experience and title. You will never be the man you once were. You've been through a lot, and now is the time for your metamorphosis. Do you wish to see the world the way that we do?"

Stephen didn't hesitate. He nodded vigorously and put his tea down to clap his hands together. If he could achieve these things, he wouldn't need medicine anymore. He could live his life, becoming one with the world, and hopefully heal his hands and his very soul.

He didn't even stop to think about a valid protest to her offer. The fact she had already stated she had seen possible futures, told him she had lived this moment before. That she already dealt with him, and he had been just as snotty and snide as he had been a year prior. From what she had done and shown him, he was ready to believe her more easily this go around.

He also didn't even want to think about the fact it was possible he had already lived that moment as well.

Yao smiled warmly at him and nodded as she picked up her tea and had a long sip. When she put it down, the cup was empty, save for some bits of tea leaves at the bottom.

"Prepare to be open with me. Let your mind settle, and close your eyes. Surrender yourself to the flow of energies that make up this world, and the Multiverse."

Stephen closed his eyes, yet his mind did not clear. He was stuck on the word 'Multiverse' and he felt a pit in the bottom of his gut as his brain went into overdrive.

Flashes of being here, doing this, and meeting these people, all zipped through his mind. He saw many different versions of this single moment. Ones where he was explosive and in full denial of what was happening, to others where he sat quietly and asked far too many questions, and the more he asked, the less he knew. Then some of them showed images of himself where his hands were straight up gone, and more still where they had absolutely nothing wrong with them. The last one being what she had told him. All of them showed him doing great things with magic, things he had only ever seen on television.

Those variants of these events showed him what he could become, and gave him glimpses of what his world would be like.

He was terrified to say the least.

But then a sudden thought entered his mind.

Would this all have happened if he had chosen music over medicine?

His sister Donna had always enjoyed music. They used to play the guessing game he had played with Wong and his colleagues. Donna had happily played with him whenever he had asked, and she made it her mission to try to stump him whenever she could. She once told him he should be a guitarist, because he had long and thin fingers.

He never did, and instead, took up medicine when she died. He vowed to save every life that he could from then on.

Then the thought of all those he had turned away entered his mind and Stephen broke down, tears silently streaking down his face. He couldn't even do that, because he had become cocky and forgotten the reason why he even became a doctor in the first place. He became too self assured and bored. He wouldn't take a case, unless it was extremely baffling and new, or if it wasn't, it had to be a good paying job. He didn't do charity work, unless it was a challenge or fame was attached.

Stephen was about to open his eyes, when Yao hummed.

"Keep them closed, doctor. We're not finished, yet."

Stephen listened, and he tried his best not to let a sob break the silence of the room. He knew he looked pathetic, crying like a child in front of people he barely knew, but he didn't care at this point. If these people hadn't let him into their lives, he probably would have done something incredibly stupid.

The darkness he saw while his eyes were closed suddenly became a bright and multicolored array of lights. He could hear music playing, one of his favorite songs, Interstellar Overdrive, by Pink Floyd.

In an instant he was jolted forwards, with everything in his vision flying past him as he was moved through outer space. He zipped past nebulae and galaxies. He slowed down when he went by stars, planets, and moons, giving him just enough time to really get a good look. A large rocky belt of debris floated around him as he witnessed a supernova and an explosion of comets as a direct result.

All the bright colors against that vast black expanse filled his very soul with wonder and awe. He took in everything, feeling like this was only real in his dreams or the actual vastness of space.

The scenery changed again and he was suddenly flying back through space, going directly towards a certain blue and green planet. In the blink of an eye, he could now only see the surface of what he assumed was Earth as he was sent shooting towards Tibet and back into his body at the Kamar-Taj.

The landing was not graceful. He came into contact with his body, just like he would have if he had hit the ground from a twenty story fall, but all that physically happened, was him falling off of his chair to the floor. He landed on his ass with a loud thump and he gasped as his eyes opened. He had even more tears of emotion on his face and his beard were soaked, as was the collar of his ratty shirt and jacket.

"Please, Master Yao, teach me." He begged as he got to his knees while holding his hands in a silent prayer.

"And so it shall be done, Doctor Stephen Vincent Strange."

***

Note:

Hamir the Hermit was comic book Wong's father. We don't get a first name for Wong, but I thought it would be neat if he had his father's name. It's relevant to the next chapter. Let me know what you think.

First chapter and name of the fic is So Strange, by Polyphia.

Tags:

#doctor strange #doctor stephen strange #stephen strange #guitar strange #eventually smut #doctor strange x female reader #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange x you

[dcbbw]

Tuesday Teasers

Well, I missed Sunday Six and no telling if I’ll manage a WIP Wednesday, so settling for Tuesday Teasers. I am looking forward to returning to these stories, my HYAW story, and finishing the Platinum AU update.

Baby steps.

For now, I have snippets from two stories no one asked for to share with you all. Portion sizes are larger since there are only two of them, and also I feel I haven’t shared/posted in forever.

As usual, all work is in a state of rough draft, and (eventually) published work may differ.

Please note, Sins of the Father contains mature themes, and the snippet may not be suitable for all readers.

Sins of the Father (Choices crossover: TRR/TRH; PM; VoS):

The priest turned his rolling desk chair so he was facing the girl, his eyes taking in her appearance: onyx-colored hair pushed away from her pale face with a headband; pansy-blue eyes that were now filled with fear and unshed tears. Full, pink-glossed lips that made his cock jump with anticipation. Her school uniform fit her trim physique like a glove; he paid especial attention to the way her budding breasts pushed against the starched cotton of her shirt.  

He shouldn’t be doing this; this new generation of parents weren’t like previous ones. They didn’t know how to respect the Church or keep their mouths shut. Recently the school, and indeed the Church had been slammed with numerous lawsuits, all stemming from sexual misconduct at the hands of the priest, Father Joseph, or Poppa Joe as he was known throughout the community.  

The Father wasn’t worried about losing his job. He was too well-connected in the city to people on both sides of the law. Over the decades he had held his position at the St. Joan of Arc’s Academies and Rectory, he had been reprimanded by his Cardinal, but never too severely.  

There were no marks or bruises to show the children had been beaten.  

The schools held 100% graduation rates, with children under his tutelage scoring highest in statewide testing.  

His church brought in the most money and did the most for donations towards the underserved in the community.  

The priest had helped build the neighborhood, encouraging and inviting 

No, Father Joseph would not be leaving the Arc, as the neighborhood was known, anytime soon.  

Besides, this was Emmeline’s daughter. Emme understood the importance of obedience to God’s servants; surely, she had passed this down to her daughter.  

“Penelope,” he spoke softly, almost pleasantly.  

The girl, whose eyes had been transfixed on his white clerical collar, looked up in trepidation. The priest’s clean-shaven face was kindly with twinkling pale blue eyes covered by rimless glasses; his lips held a ready smile. There were some slight wrinkles lining his face, but he looked far younger than his 60+ years. His hair, brown with some gray sprinkled in, was neatly combed with a side part.  

“We don’t have much time, dear. Lift your skirt for me.” 

Penelope shook her head. “I don’t want to, Father,” she whispered through a sob.  

The priest stared at her for a moment before opening a desk drawer, removing a thick wooden ruler. Without a word, the metal-edged stick slapped her across her cheek. With a yelp of pain, Penelope’s palm flew to cover the now-reddened skin.  

“Don’t make me ask again.” Father Joseph tapped the ruler threateningly against his palm. “Lift. Your. Skirt.”  

 Eat. Pray. Love.

A pajama-clad Liam stood at the rain-splattered window, looking down at the deserted street below.  The New Moon illuminated wet pavement, streaks of cream-colored lighting glistening beneath him.  The world was silent, as it usually was this time of morning, right before night reluctantly gave way to day and slumber navigated its way to wakefulness.  

He wondered how many 4am’s he’d seen so far in his lifetime.  

Too many.  

Some, like this one, were silent; only him, his thoughts, and the darkness.  

Others had been filled with the furtive, the clandestine: Liam had seen hookers giving blowjobs in alleys; businessmen buying drugs; rats burrowing into garbage bins.  

Still others had been filled with alcohol fueled passion: People clinging to their last call from some bar, desperately clutching and pawing and kissing while hoping this person would be the one.  

He had witnessed all of this and more. All from the safety of rooms: his chambers, a Presidential suite, or a penthouse.  

He was always an observer. Even in his own life.  

Liam stood, watching nonplussed as the love of his life methodically packed her belongings.  

“What … what are you doing?” he demanded in a dumbfounded tone.  

Riley Brooks glanced over at him before placing folded pants and skirts into the open suitcase sitting on her bed.  

“We’ve discussed this Liam. I am no longer staying in this … deathtrap!” 

“You have been defended and protected at every turn, Riley! That will always continue!” 

Riley exhaled a loud sigh before turning to fully face her former fiancé.  

“Liam, you don’t get it … or maybe you’re used to it. But ever since Applewood, things have gone from dreams-come-true to a nightmare I may never wake up from.  

“First, Tariq … which I really don’t give two fucks about because I know what I did and didn’t do. But to discover your own FATHER put that plan in motion, and we’re helpless to do anything about it?  

“The orchards were BURNED TO THE GROUND by SoE!  

“ASSASINS! Your father got killed! DRAKE WAS SHOT by a bullet meant for ME! 

“And I’m supposed to be okay not just being associated with the target of all this, but to agree to put a target on my back as well?” 

She turned back to the suitcase. “I cannot and will not do that.” 

Liam bit his lip in an attempt to hold back tears. “I LOVE YOU, Riley! I would die for you!” he croaked. 

“I’d rather you live for me,” she whispered in reply. 

She reached for a small white cardboard box before facing Liam again. “Here, this is for you.” 

Liam stared at the box in his palm. “What is it?” 

“Your pearl, your ring, and the necklace your father gave me.” 

Liam’s eyes were wide as he wildly shook his head. “NO! These are for YOU!”  

He attempted to return the jewelry, but Riley grasped his wrist with one hand, and pushed his fingers closed over the box with the other.  

Riley’s voice cracked slightly as she spoke. “No, not me, Liam. They’re for the woman you’re going to marry.” 

His head lifted when he felt a palm press gently against his arm.  A smile formed on his lips as he gazed at his wife, her face puffy with sleep, and eyes filled with concern and uncertainty. Even now, she still worried that he regretted his decision.  

He did not.  

“Hey,” she whispered, “why are you awake so early?” 

He leaned in, snatching a kiss from her lips. “Just thinking.” 

Her palm slid down the sleeve of his pajama top to take his hand in hers. “Come back to bed?” 

His eyes slid slowly down her body, tempting curves hidden beneath silk fabric. “Excellent suggestion,” he replied as he followed her back to their bedroom.  

Tagging:  @jared2612​ @ao719​ @burnsoslow​ @marietrinmimi​ @merridithsmiscellany-blog​ @queenjilian​ @indiacater​ @kingliam2019​ @bebepac​ @liamxs-world​ @mom2000aggie​ @cmestrella​ @liamrhysstalker2020​  @neotericthemis​ @twinkleallnight​ @umccall71​ @superharriet​  @busywoman​ @gabesmommie1130​ @tessa-liam​ @phoenixrising0308​ @beezm​ @gardeningourmet​ @lovingchoices14​ @foreverethereal123​ @mainstreetreader​ @angelasscribbles​ @lady-calypso​ @emkay512​ @jovialyouthmusic​ @21-wishes​ @princessleac1​ @charlotteg234​ @queenrileyrose​ @alj4890​ @yourfavaquarius111​ @motorcitymademadame​ @bbrandy2002​ @eversoaringqueen12​ @queenmiarys​

#dcbbw writes #wips #more things no one asked for #writeblr #writers of tumblr

[heirtaleau]

yous are meeting with asgore? :3c

Chara bit down on their tongue as they entered the throne room, the faint taste of metal hitting their senses. It looked almost identical to how it had in the underground, not surprising considering the amount of work everyone had put in, but it gave them a bizarre sense of deja vu that they could only compare to what Unawares must feel. They walked for what felt like hours, eventually coming to a throne, with a large Man nearby, watering patches of golden flowers. "..Dad I.. you called for me?" They spoke softly, the nerves in their tone surprising even them.

Asgore slowly turned around, and for the first time in a while, Chara got a look at him. His eyes had slight bags, but the shine they held was so much greater than they had ever seen in the Underground. Slight wrinkles formed around his eyes, and his beard fell longer, almost past his chest. His gorgeous blonde hair, had now open highlighted with streaks of gray, and his horns had begun curling. "Chara! My child, it is good to see you!" They cried happily, clapping them on the shoulder and gently leading them along. "Come! We have much to discuss, please do humor this old man over some tea."

They paused for a second, before nodding briefly and allowing themselves to get sat at a plain, wooden table. They clasped their hands together, mouth pressed in a thin line as they tapped their foot anxiously. "Thank you," they muttered softly as a cup of tea was set in front of them. Graciously, they took it and held it to their mouth, allowing it to burn the tip of their tongue.

Asgore's eyes softened as he sat across from them. They had grown so much, their features had sharpened, matured..but they still had those red eyes. Eyes that calculate every move you make, shine in the light like rubies, and turn into the best kicked puppy eyes to beg for something! Even thinking about it made their chest rumble with laughter. "My Child.. you don't know how thankful your mother and I are, every time we see you.."

Chara's cheeks dusted pink as they dipped their head, sipping the tea with a shy chuckle. "..Ehehe..Thanks Dad..it," they paused, eyes softening as they glanced at him. "It means a lot. How..how have you been doing..? With everything going on? Have you..told anyone?" They asked, pursing their lips.

"I am..as well as I can be considering it all. I haven't exactly told anyone else, I have another year or two left in me after all!" He said with a hearty chuckle, sipping his Golden Flower Tea. "It was to be expected..I'm almost 600 years old, by now! I may as well enjoy my time before I arrive there" he muttered, voice containing a hint of sadness.

"That's..I.." Chara paused, clenching their fists firmly as all the processing they had attempted over the past months fell apart. Why did they have to be the one to know? It could have been Mom, or Frisk, or even Sans! Why them?! It was all happening to fast, and everything hit them at once, and they snapped. "I..just..why you? It could have been anyone else!" They shouted quickly, hitting the table and causing the china to shake.

Asgore watched solemnly as Chara shot up from their chair, pacing back and forth with newly gained rage and energy. He knew it was unfair to only tell Chara, to have them be the only one they told about it before it was time. Yet, they needed to know. As much as it paying them as a father, as a king, he knew it was the only correct choice, so he loves this moment of anger without any objections.

"You are the King! You are the leader of this great kingdom and have done so for centuries!" They cried, their steps getting harsher and harsher. "YOU HAVE LED THIS KINGDOM THROUGH ITS DARKEST AGES, NO MATTER HOW BAD IT GOT, HOW MUCH YOUR MIND IS SCREAMED AT YOU, YOU ACTED AS A BEACON OF HOPE FOR ALL OF MONSTER KIND! HOW IS IT FAIR, THAT FATE DECIDES YOU'RE ON YOUR DEATHBED, RIGHT WHEN YOU ACCOMPLISHED YOUR DREAM?! WHY?! Why..-" They shouted, as if cursing the heavens before their voice trailed off.

Asgore slowly got up, walking over to Chara with a Shakey breath. He could feel tears building up his eyes, his voice caught in his throat as he tried to think of the words. Slowly he set his hand on their back and turned to face them. "..Chara." he said softly, his voice quivering.

That was the last straw, tears slowly fell down their face, as they crumpled to the floor with a shakey sob. "..Why..Why do I have to see my Father die..?" They asked, clinging onto Asgore with every bit of strength they had.

Asgore held on tightly, wrapping his large arms around them and allowing them to sit there as long as they needed. Their initial plans to speak to them about this matter could be postponed for a few hours, right now he was no longer needed as a king, but needed as a father.

#ask chara #undertale #first flower #ask frisk #charisk #angst #asgore #ut rp

[renegadepack]

Two Ghosts - Harry Styles

Edward knew seeing her after so long would be weird. Everyone told him it was a bad idea. It had been decades since he left her in the forest with lies and goodbyes, and Bella should have long since moved on. He has to know. He has to know that she’s okay, that she’s happy, that she got everything she ever wanted. Everything she deserves.

She’s as beautiful as ever, all the signs of the Bella that was once his, as different as he expected. Long brown hair with streaks of gray. Kind, eager eyes, now surrounded by wrinkles. A smile that still lights up the room. 

And she looks up, and sees him. She could swear her heart skips a beat. But she’s no longer the same girl she used to be. And there’s nothing left to say.

If it’s even real.

send me a song title (include artist please) and i’ll write a summary of a twilight fanfic based on the song

#edward cullen #bella swan #edward x bella #bella x edward #twilight #twilight fanfic #twilight headcanons #tts #ttsfanfic #twilightfanfic #twilightfic #back cover song summaries

[witches-and-devils]

Addiction, Chapter 3

Hey, I'm also posting this on Ao3! I'll be posting here first but updates will be on there as well. Also, feel free to ask questions or give your opinion of how I'm doing! I've been super excited about posting this chapter for a while now.

    The name Ace was simple. It was one of the first things that popped into his head. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was due to his past of being labeled a prodigy, or maybe it was just something simple so he could remember it. Either way, once he’d thought of the name it wouldn’t leave his mind. It fits the persona of a blind Witch living on their own away from society. The first time he used it was when someone stopped by about a week into Ace’s hiding. 

    He’d traveled into town once, but that was all it took for someone to take note of the strange new face and follow him home. Suddenly, he’d found himself spending the last two years as a sort of… local handyman for the nearby village. People would seek him out, ask him to fix something, and he’d return it as pristine and orderly as his magic would allow. Of course no one knew it was magic fixing all their problems. A Witch that was out from underneath the Church’s thumb would be burned or turned in before the day was over.

    Over the years, that abandoned hut, which he learned used to be the old home of a man that had long since left the village, had turned into something more livable. The holes in the ceiling were patched, a rug someone knitted for him as payment for fixing their loom. It was a very simplistic set up, but Ace had found himself properly clothed in plain workers outfits and he had some bread for dinner. It was… peaceful. Like he’d started a new life, even if he couldn’t shake the memories of the past and the nightmares that were brought with them.

    “And you’re sure that you’ll be okay?”

    “Yes, Ms. Kasin, I know the way to town if I need it.”

    “Okay, well Marcel and I are going to stop by a few days after the storm to make sure a tree hasn’t fallen on you. I can’t understand why you tolerate living out here!”

    “You get used to it,” Ace reassured the older woman as he quietly moved around his hut and began to gather up some of the dishes. They’d need to be cleaned soon.

    “I’m not so sure if that’s a good thing, Mr. Ace,” she admitted, always fretting. The woman’s tanned skin was wrinkled and calloused from years of hard work, her black hair streaked with gray and tied far too tightly back to keep out of her face. “‘specially during times like these, you’re sure-”

    “The offer to stay with you is very tempting, Ms. Kasin, but I don’t like being a bother.” Ace could already hear her getting ready to protest, his hand flying up before she could get a word out. “Please, don’t go saying housing a blind man for a couple of days isn’t a bother. I promise you, I will be fine. I prefer my alone time, either way.” 

A pause of silence filled the space between the two and, for a moment, Ace worried she wasn’t going to let it go. But soon enough she was saying her pleasantries, making sure he wouldn’t forget about the groceries she’d bought for him, hugging him and rushing out his door all the while complaining about storm preparations at her own home.

    Ace breathed a sigh of relief the moment she was gone. It wasn’t smart to be in populated areas, he barely even traveled to town, so long as he could help it. There was a small Church within, no ‘Saints’ in sight and barely anything but a pastor and a few people who hung around to keep the place running. Still, it was far too dangerous to risk being caught.

    Besides, the more he helped the village, the more they helped him. The rain catcher outside helped with showers and cleaning, the occasional groceries each month kept his cabinets filled, he’d even made a meager amount of money that he kept neatly locked away in a space no one could reach.

    Between all the visits, he’d even had time to look into things. Specifically perfecting his casting and looking into that vision he’d had so long ago.

    One of the first things he’d done when he had enough cash was track down the nearest compendium on demons and prominent ones in history. The Demon had been strong and hungry. If he thought back to it he could still smell the smoke that poured from his teeth and the gleam in his fanged smile, but… studying always calmed Ace. The more he knew about something, the better he was at handling and preparing for it.

    ‘Damascus, The Relentless’. He was… insane, to say the least. Every time he’d been summoned in the past, it had resulted in the killing of the Witch idiotic enough to try, quickly followed by the slaughter of countless people. The last time he’d even started some sort of tyrannical rule a couple centuries back, very dark, very sadistic. It wasn’t a wonder he thought to contact Ace, he’d been at his lowest and most desperate.

    If he’d had his full strength, he might have been stupid enough to actually try. A demon now would only serve to make the villagers suspicious. Even a small one like an imp would be difficult to hide with how often people came and went within his home.

    The soft pattering of water against his roof broke him out of his thoughts. The storm was already starting. He walked over towards the small fire pit in the middle of his home, placing some smaller twigs in the center and starting a fire with a brief whistle of air. Coffee sounded nice. Ms. Kasin had dropped off some rice too, so-

    Tap, tap, tap.

    Ace went still, his hand pausing halfway towards his small kettle.

    Tap, tap, tap.

    It was far too gentle, maybe it was just Ms. Kasin? No, she’d be just getting back to town by now and he would already be hearing her shrill voice calling through the door if it was her.

    Tap, tap, tap.

    …It’s more suspicious if he doesn’t open the door.

    “One moment,” he calls, surprised his tone was so level despite the nerves that wracked his body. Two years away from the Church and everything they had done, but he was still so terrified of being caught again.

    “Is someone there?” A soft, feminine voice called through the tiny hut. No one he recognized, practically everyone from the village knew Ace by now. Warily, the Witch stood from his kneeling position on the floor and wandered over. It would be simple. Just ask her to leave, tell her where the village is, and shut the door. No worries. She’d be gone and absent from his mind within moments. “Hello?”

    He opened the door like it was made of lead, not the hollow wood Mr. Birch had made him a few months back. A young woman, in her early twenties like Ace, stood before him. She was a tiny thing, long blonde hair carefully tucked back into her black hood and maroon eyes that shined with a familiar knowing gaze. Normally her kind smile would warm the hearts of those around her, but that grin paired with the dark white and black dress of the Church made it almost sadistic in Ace’s eyes. She gripped a staff in one hand and the other a soft white, glowing chain that twined up and wrapped around the neck of a towering, slender figure.

A muscular, lithe frame was hidden underneath similar white and black attire with a thick tail wrapped tightly around their waist. A single solid white eye seemed to pierce through him. It looked to be a male demon, most likely Wrath given the six arms sprouting out of his sides and the slender staff carefully sheathed on his back. He was bald with thick, black tattooing crawling from behind his ears and spreading down before disappearing underneath the collar of his outfit.

She was saying something. Her kind eyes infected his body as a numbness spread throughout Ace’s mind. He couldn’t hear, he couldn’t… he needed to move, he needed to get away- how had they found him? Who had said something? There weren't any Saints, especially not Saints with Demon Familiars, within that half-assed Church the village had. No one knew his real name, they couldn’t-

“Sir?”

“What…?” Ace blinked, ripping his eyes away from the demon as it grunted and turned its head away from him with a sigh. He could get through this, he could talk his way out of this. The pounding of the rain was growing harder now, creating a soft cushioning around the house as the Saint and her Familiar grew more wet by the moment.

“My friend and I are a bit lost at the moment, would you mind allowing us shelter until the storm passes?”

“No,” he snapped, his body growing taught again as he grabbed the side of the door and slammed it shut with all of his might. Well, it would have slammed shut if it hadn’t been for the large, red hand shoved in the gap. Slowly, the wooden door swung open again as a low growl emanated from the Wrath Demon’s throat, setting off every nerve in Ace’s brain to run. He couldn’t get caught, he couldn’t be taken back not now, not when he was finally free and had a life-

“Sir, please! My name is Delilah, I’m a Saint with the Church. I can assist you, perhaps? My friend here, Lethian, is quite strong and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind doing some extra work too for a place to stay. It would be just until the storm passes, and-” ‘Delilah’ stepped inside, pausing and locking gazes with Ace for a moment. “I understand that seeing a Demon may be a tad startling at first, but I assure you that my chain-” 

A tense silence fell between the two, and it wasn’t until he watched the two strangers exchange a look that he remembered. “...You’re not blind.”

Everything snapped. Before Ace realized what he was doing, the woman and the demon were sent flying backwards, Lethian slammed into the door and broke it off the hinges before landing in the muddy dirt where everything slowly turned to sand a few feet from his front step. Soon enough the Saint was following behind with a yelp. She might have broken something if it weren’t for the quick movements of her Familiar, snatching her from the air and letting her land painfully on his chest.

“Leave!” Ace snapped, his short red hair floating above and his eyes sparking with a fuschia energy as he stood stiffly in the doorway. He couldn’t handle this, he needed them gone and then he needed to leave as quickly as possible.

For just a moment, Ace feared she wouldn’t listen as she stood and Lethian grasped the staff from his back, but soon enough her hand was being held up in the air to hold him off. 

“Fine! Fine, just- I- I didn’t realize you were a Witch, I’ll- we’ll leave!”

“Delilah-”

“Lethian, silence.” Instantly, the Demon’s mouth slammed shut at the brief command, his voice was like dried rocks grinding together.

They… she was actually going to leave? No. No, she’d be back. When he was sleeping, maybe. Or maybe she would go to the Church and request another Saint. Turn the town against him and do a good old fashioned burning once the storm had passed. He needed to go. Ace stayed there, watching as the woman turned back to her Familiar and cautiously retreated from the home.

His eyes remained staunchly on those black and white silhouettes until they’d completely disappeared into the treeline....

Ace darted inside, grabbing the cheap basket of food that Ms. Kasin had brought him. It would do. He had a good amount of food in there, he could get more clothes later. He needed to get away, he’d already started over once before, he could do it again. This time he’d just pinch some clothes off a drying line and live by himself in the woods, far away. A blind hermit living on his own. God,how had he been so stupid? So distracted that he forgot that he was supposed to ‘not’ see everybody! Of course they would notice that, an easy fucking give away for a Witch- dammit, dammit-

The only warning was the rustling of branches before the roof caved in. Ace spun around, barely throwing his hand up in time to force a barrier of wind to block the staff barreling towards his face. Pain blossomed through his abdomen as a fist came rocketing down and slammed just underneath the small wind current. Ace screamed as he was slammed back into the wall, panting heavily and ducking just before a thick rod of wood shot through the wall behind him where his head had been resting just moments prior. No-

Scrambling away, he rolled away from the staff as Lethian gave a bellow of rage from the evasions. The redhead darted outside. Muck stuck to his bare feet as he searched frantically for Delilah. Where the fuck was she? He didn’t need someone- another piece of wood went flying towards him, quickly deflected as he darted out of the way with another burst of air beside him. There-

The woman stood clearly in the treeline, annoyance evident in the way her eye twitched as one of her hands reached for the tree beside her. It seemed to break off like plastic, melding into another spear before launching through the air. Easily enough, Ace dodge again- straight into the Wrath Demon’s path as he slammed his staff straight down onto Ace’s shoulder. The crack broke through the torrent of rain around them as he writhed in pain, a hand shooting up and grasping the injured appendage. Lethian seemed to pause, waiting for Delilah to grow closer as she sighed and removed the hood from her head.

“I’m sorry, but you attacked first, really,” the Saint crooned, leaning down in front of Ace as she reached out a hand… only to grasp at the blossom of pain in his shoulder and squeezed with surprising strength. Another shock ran through his body, it must have popped out of its socket-

“Leave me be!” He begged, tears gathering in his eyes as he tried to pitifully rip himself away from the woman. She gave a sad, hollow smile.

“Truly, I wish I could, Sir, but…we can’t have dangerous Witches wandering around without the supervision of the Church. I…hope you understand. Lethian?” Delilah turned to her Familiar, motioning towards Ace on the ground. Dutifully, the demon used a set of his freed arms to reach down and scoop Ace up. He needed to do something- he needed to break away, to-

Wait-

Ace’s eyes snapped towards the white chain of magic dangling around the Demon’s neck. It…was worth a shot.

Who the fuck was he kidding, it was the only shot he had-

Hands snatching out, the chain burned into his hands from the pure form of magic interacting with his skin. Instinctively, Lethian tried to rip himself away but Ace was already screaming. He’d either decapitate him with the gale that shot from his palms, or he’d lose his hands- maybe he’d die of blood loss if Delilah wasn’t skilled in healing, that would be nice-

A sharp snap, like a thousand rods of metal breaking all at once, rang in his ears. There was the briefest of pauses as Ace slowly forced his eyes open to stare disbelieving at the shattered remains of the white chain in his hands. The magic was already dissipating, fading away- he snapped the chain-

Within an instant, everything was heating up around them, he could distantly hear the woman behind him crying out when she realized what had happened. A torrent of flames surrounded the Demon as he screamed, dropping Ace as he seemed to twist and shift in on himself, briefly reaching out towards his Saint before- a bright flash…and nothing.

“Lethian…?” Delilah looked around, holding her hand out as if that would summon the Demon’s chain back to her. Her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated as a sob suddenly tore through her throat. She turned to Ace, pure rage contorting her face into something monstrous. It didn’t suit her fair features- “What did you do!? I’ll-”

Ace threw his hand out, a sharp surge of wind erupting from his fingertips like a blade and creating a fine slit across her throat, silencing her instantly. The Saint gasped, her hands flying to her throat as thick, bubbling red spewed out in rivets, mixing and staining the white parts of her dress as the rain pounded it into the sand and soil beneath her. She stumbled forward as if she would still be able to conjure something large enough to do some real damage to the man in front of her, instead falling to the ground. Her body gave brief jerks and spasms, her eyes still wide with either rage or fear. Ace stared.

…

He could freak out later. The Witch shoved the thought from his mind, ignoring the terrified yell that escaped him as he darted back into the shattered remains of his home. He needed a demon. He needed protection. They’d be hunting him, Father Zachariah knew his magic, he’d know it was him and- he needed someone to keep him safe. He needed a guard, he didn’t care if it would kill him or anyone else, he couldn’t be taken back, he wouldn’t be locked away again, he wouldn’t make another Angel-

A sickening pop sent more pain and fear through Ace’s body as he shoved his shoulder back into place, barely paying attention as he came back out with a wet sheet from his bed. Soon enough, the woman was staining through the fabric as he dragged her bloodied body inside. It was like his entire body was moving for him again, drawing the shapes he’d seen in his dreams, the sigil that’d been carved into his arm- His hands furiously moved from her bleeding neck to the ground, ignoring that the blood was, for once, not his own. By the time he’d finished, his floor sat covered in a mess of scrawled symbols barely legible from all the rainwater that was now pouring into the hut.

The summoning might kill him. If not, then he’d be lucky if the Demon didn’t break his chain and kill him anyway before slaughtering everyone within sight until returning out of sheer boredom. Or it would remain and he would finally feel safe, finally feel like he would be free enough to not constantly be looking over his shoulder. He could hide away and wouldn’t have to worry about another demon getting the drop on him. Or he would die and that would be the end of it. They would never have him again either way.

Ace slammed his hands down, his eyes rolling back into his head as a string of words in a strange, foreign tongue spilled from his lips. The sigil beneath him seemed to pulse with his heart beat. The remains of Delilah seemed to wither and rot as the life all around him seemed to slowly drain away. His arms shook involuntarily. The rain was nothing but a pounding beat to his song. There was a bright surge big enough to make him wonder if he’d simply died in a brilliant explosion of magic.

The hut fell silent, the air crackling with energy as if lightning had touched down just moments ago. Slowly, Ace opened his eyes, allowing his head to fall forward as exhaustion seemed to overtake his body. A chill ran down his spine when a deep, baritone of a laugh broke over the storm around them.

Ace was alive.

For now.

He locked his gaze on the figure from his dream. An eight foot tall, rotund beast of Greed with thick horns and ruby red eyes. They seemed to sparkle at the sight of blood underneath him. A thick, crocodile-like tail thumped against the ground as dark, gray-black skin glistened from the water pouring over his form. Thick, cracked lips spread into a shark grin as the demon sucked in a long, fresh breath of air like he hadn’t breathed in centuries. He… would have looked human if it weren’t for the animal like appendages.

His murderous, gleeful gaze landed on Ace’s form, so tiny in comparison. Smoke billowed out from between his teeth as he slowly stooped down to inspect the Witch before him. His now tattered and soaked clothing, the thick bruise that spread along his shoulder and seemed to darken by the second, the pure, primal fear that danced behind false blind eyes. Another laugh tore through the beast’s throat as he stared disdainfully at the fuchsia colored chain that hung loosely around his neck.

“You know,” Damascus started as his chuckles slowly trailed off. He offhandedly twirled the chain around his fingers as if it were nothing but a string for his amusement. “Most Witches expect me to kneel, not them.” 

Ace stiffened, realizing he was still on the floor. It… felt like he couldn’t move his legs. Tentatively, he reached a hand out and grabbed the slick counter beside him to try and pull himself up- only to fall back down as the demon tauntingly slammed a hand down beside his head. A thick dent of splintered wood erupted next to his ear as he flinched away. Another bellowing laugh surrounded him as the Demon breathed deeply once more. “Why so tense, Human? Shouldn’t you be jumping up and down, waiting for your special prize for summoning me?”

He was toying with him. The Witch cleared his throat, opening his mouth to say something, but- “Don’t worry, I’ll keep ya alive for the show, real shit vacation spot though, gotta admit- ah, one sec-” 

Damascus gripped the bright chain in his thick hand, flexing it for a moment…before pausing. Ace stared intensely at the chain, swallowing as he finally stood up. The rough pull of the demon against the chain would have sent Ace flying if he hadn’t been prepared enough to stiffen the bond again. The Greed Demon frowned, his brow furrowing slightly… before grabbing the chained loop around his neck with both hands and screaming as he tried to pull himself free. The floorboards creaked and groaned before cracking beneath his feet with a sickening snap-

The chain remained.

It…worked-

It worked!

A disbelieving laugh escaped Ace as he looked from the demon to the bright chain held tightly in his hand. It fucking worked-

“You-” The Demon stared at him, trying to take a swipe at his form only to be yanked back easily by the chain now held tightly, confidently around his neck.

“Damascus, right?” Ace questioned breathlessly, ignoring the blood in his hair as he shoved the wet strands out of his face. He began to dart around the man, the chain fading from sight as he let out another relieved laugh. “I’m- I’m Ace, I-”

He paused as the chain appeared again the Demon did his damnedest to rip himself free from the bonds to no avail. “Calm down, would you? You’ll just exhaust yourself, I- I didn’t think that would…holy shit. I-”

Ace cleared his throat, a prideful smirk spreading across his spent features despite the painful attack he’d just endured and the terror that had gripped his heart just moments again. He stared up at those hateful red eyes, a sudden spark of determination spread through his limbs as Ace cleared his throat. “I’d like to offer you a job.”

#original story #original characters #angels #demons #tetraphilia #enemies to lovers #enemies to kinda sorta maybe lovers #Damascus is an asshole #So is Ace #They have issues #And trauma #slow burn? #eventual smut #magic #gore #lots of death #They're not good people #monster fucker #tw monsterfucking #exophilia #witches #forced feeding #mlm #Ace & Damascus #tw religion #tw religious assholes (no seriously) #toxic relationship #at first #they need to work through some stuff #manipulation

[chrissshub]

❝IN HIS CARE❞

⭑—pairings: Touya “Dabi” Todoroki x therapist!fem reader

⭑—cw: language, public-ish sex, fingering, Dabi being a tease, use of an oc

⭑—a/n: this is a piece from an archived fic of mine. hope you enjoy!

“Dabi, can you please catch up, we can’t be late!”

He made it a point to walk a couple of feet behind you, his reasons being that he wished to observe you from afar.

“Hey, Miss…you have a really nice ass, if that isn’t too vulgar of me to admit,” he crooned, a hand resting along the curve of your lower back. You shook your head, “Stop acting like a pervert and get it together. Tonight should mean more to you than it does to me,” you griped, internally rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, it’s our date night!” He beamed, imparting a sly glance your way. You could only halt your paced steps, facing towards Dabi with a subtle grimace. Without any words, you hand him the sleek black clutch in your hand, your lithe fingers finding a way to his tie.

“Touya...we’re meeting with two executives from the parole department. If we can supply them with enough reasons to officially end your house arrest, you’ll be free without even a trial,” you began, the pads of your digits skimming along the smooth red silk. You gently crushed the tie in your palm, tugging Dabi’s flustered visage to your own.

“Don’t fuck this up, got it?”

He nodded, leaving a quick peck on your glossed lips before drawing himself back. “See, you do want this more than me, no need to lie about it, Y/N,” he teased, returning to his previous languid stroll. You kept your gaze pinned on the stone walkway beneath you, a thin smirk curling onto your lips.

All you knew was that the meeting held the future of the budding romance between you and Dabi, something you wouldn’t allow to fail without a decent fight.

That same thought followed you into the restaurant, the warm and cozy environment enveloping you. The smooth melding of spices wafted past your nose, yielding for the softest grin to grow across your lips. You and Dabi found yourselves wandering towards the farthest booth, being greeted by a peaceful soul.

“Why hello there, Y/N and...Dabi,” a voice welcomed you both. You scanned the figure cautiously, an older woman seemed to be who held the key of fate before you and Dabi.

She looked to be in her sixties, faint wrinkles lining her forehead and hooded hazel eyes. The gray streaks of her age adorned the thick locks of black hair, ending a bit beyond her shoulders.

You held your hand out, giving the woman a sweet smile, “You must be Mrs. Shun..from the call earlier.” She hummed in agreement, affirming your keen guess.

Dabi pulled his hand from the pocket of his black slacks, following the example you had set. “Hello Ms. Shun, I appreciate you taking the time to meet with Y/N and me.” His gentle tones earned a gratifying hum from you. Dabi met your amiable gaze, his mind aware of how proud you were of him, even if it was just the bare minimum.

“Why, of course. Please sit,” Mrs. Shun pressed, her hand waving you both to join her. You slid into the booth first, the cold leather nipping at the underside of your thigh. You cursed yourself for wearing such a short dress, the simple red accommodating your skin beautifully.

Dabi planted himself beside you, his hand searching for yours immediately. You hadn’t noticed it upon first glance but Dabi was suddenly on edge, her usual relaxed physique was tense, his shoulders raised high. You laced your fingers around his, the comforting hold soothing him already.

“Don’t you worry, we got this!” you purred into his ear, your thumb grazing along the back of his hand. Dabi released a boastful scoff, “I’m not the one who’s nervous, Doll. I know I’ll get out of this, especially with your help.”

You gave Dabi one final flash of your smile before turning your attention to Mrs. Shun, who was already prepared to begin the meeting.

“So, we’ll begin with the contents of Dabi’s arrest, the punishment, and how the data from the rehabilitation has been. With that, I’ll make the final decision right here, sounds good?” Mrs. Shun’s reached for the manila folder, peeling open the thin layer. You and Dabi sat there with attentive ears, only to grow bored after a few lines in.

Dabi gradually slid free of your hold, his hand finding much more comfort atop your thigh, his fingers tapping against the plush skin rhythmically. Your fingers latched around his forearm, mindlessly toying with the button as Mrs. Shun reviewed the case of Dabi’s house arrest.  

You sensed a wash of heat wash over your body, an unfamiliar warm fluttering between your legs. The warmth radiating from his hand left you anxious, your legs crossing over each other.

“You seem to be tense all of sudden,” Dabi muttered, your ears piquing at his words. You nodded your head subtly, keeping your composure as still as you could.

“Behave yourself, not in public,” you griped, the words bringing you nothing unpleasant pangs of regret. “I’m not the one who got all horny from a simple touch. Speak for yourself,” Dabi sneered behind his hand, shielding his mouth from Mrs. Shun.

You took a deep breath, bringing your mouth to Dabi’s ear, acting as if you wanted to tell him of such importance.

“So then you should make yourself useful and fix that for me, right? It’s the least you can do as payment for all the shit you’ve put me through.”

A smug grin stretched across Dabi’s lips, the pads of his fingers digging into your thigh. You pried your legs apart, leaving enough room for Dabi’s hand to slip between.

He yanked the thin obstructing lace from you to the side, the greed of pleasing his pretty therapist was instantly met with the sound of Mrs. Shun’s untimely interruption.

“Y’know, at first, I wasn’t sure if the arrangement was going to work seeing as how young you both are,” Mrs. Shun began, her hands folded atop the waxy tabletop.

Dabi offered the woman a false smile, his tone following suit. “I can see your reasons. But trust me, Y/N takes her work with such grace and diligence, nothing could ever divert her from the task at hand.”

As the words left his lips, Dabi ran a finger between the glistening folds of your cunt, the digit being coated with your slick. He sent you a side glance, lust riddled within his azure hues.

With the calloused pads of his index and middle fingers, Dabi laid slow circles against your clit, the glistening pearl rolling between his digits. Your nails clawed at his forearm, a hiss leaking from his pursed lips.

“You’ve gone and made a mess of yourself, such a shame,” he ridiculed silently, his words edging you on. Dabi blew you a faux kiss, the filth of apathy embedding with the tormenting display.

You pinched your bottom lip between your teeth, the pain not being nearly enough to ground you. Simultaneously, Mrs. Shun shifted her gaze to you, waiting to hear your own thoughts on the matter.

“I-I uh...agree. My only intention for Dabi is to ensure his…” you trailed off as Dabi slowly sank his digit into your dribbling slit, your walls clenching around him. Your head immediately dropped, your eyes squeezing shut.

The lewd squelching of Dabi’s fingers curling along your sweet spot threw you into turmoil, the electric sensation coursing through your nerves. He maintained a slow pace, adding another finger to stretch. The delicious burn was soon engulfed by the overwhelming relief Dabi provided, a shrewd whimper seeping from your throat.

Dabi could only watch as you fell apart beside him, a sense of pride flooding his mind. He found great solace in his ability to please you, considering it was just a mere touch, He practically ached at the thought of how you would respond to everything else he had to offer.

“Is she alright!?” Mrs. Shun yelped, her eyes frantically searching for the cause of your pain. Dabi cleared his throat, deciding to assist you during your time of need.

“What Y/N seems to be stuttering over is this...she deems me fully capable to continue living among the masses with her supervision.

Yet, I just have one request, if I may,” Dabi interjected, Mrs. Shun tilted her head in curiosity. You had no clue as to what Dabi had prepared to say, your eyes fighting the urge to roll back into your head.  

“I want Y/N to be with me at all times. Laugh if you must but I feel so at ease with her, Y/N’s words truly help me keep a cool mind,” he demanded boldly. Mrs. Shun could only nod, her brows knitting for a solution.

“That could be arranged, whatever will bring you the most support, Dabi,” she concurred, closing the folder at last. A brief moment of silence shrouded the booth, your body growing heavy with the incoming high.

Your sight became patchy, white stars clouding your vision. Dabi continued to drag his digits along your viscid walls, urging your body closer to its alleviation. Just like clockwork, the moment Mrs. Shun broke the silence, your body tightened itself, your core holding Dabi’s mischievous fingers in place.  

You gushed around, earning a wink from him as a sign of approval. You returned a sheepish grin, the dopamine circulating around your body. Once you finally gained some sense of self, you peered over to Mrs. Shun, who was still unaware of what had occurred only a few feet from her position.  

“Well then, with that, I hereby announce that Dabi is no longer under house arrest. I hope you continue to progress under the watch of Y/N,” Mrs. Shun grinned, her hands clasping together. Dabi pulled his fingers from your spasming walls, the thick essence of your release coating the digits.

His eyes marvel at the sight, his mouth desperate for selfishly indulging his mouth with your slick. You dropped your forehead against his shoulder, taking shuddering breaths to desperately calm your lungs.

He allowed for the flavor to dance across his palate, his eyes coming to fluttering shut. He gazed over to you, a cheesy grin sprawled along his face.

“Why I can’t think of a sweeter reward than this, can you, Y/N?”

⭑—tags: @dejwrites @gabzlovesu @nanaminshousewife @rinhoes @getoswhore @po3ticb3auty @dabilovesme @ebiharachan @presidentmonica @haikyutiehoe @the-great-himbo @whore4mikey @pixelsanji

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#anime #x female reader #x fem!reader #reader insert #x black fem reader #x black reader #dabi imagine #dabi x y/n #dabi todoroki #mha dabi #bnha dabi #dabi my hero academia #dabi x reader #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #touya smut #dabi smut

[octania]

Benimaru Shinmon x Reader ( NSFW, 18+)

Word count: 3.8 k

Warnings: NSFW,smut,oral sex,sexual teasing, orgasm prohibition

Short description: You were in love with this man for over a year, but your bratty mouth an denial of your feelings got you in a situation where Benimaru will teach you how to behave in very teasing and heated way....

________________________________________________________

The air was filled with the scent of a variety of traditional dishes and enriched by the happy shouts of excited residents through the streets. This time, the festival did not mean destruction, this time it was celebrated by making delicious dishes and socializing with each other. The celebration itself began at dawn, when they brought out their wooden tables and portable stoves, beginning to enrich the street with enticing scents of a variety of spices and ingredients. You could also hear the gentle sound of kota, whose strings were gently touched by the pale hands of young talented musicians. While these were all just preparations for the big ceremony that would start when sun kisses the mountains, everyone shared their joy throughout the day. His dark hair fluttered in the morning breeze around his narrowed eyebrows. Ruby eyes barely opened as he passed like a shadow past people. Although it was not visible on the expression on his face, he secretly enjoyed the liveliness that spread through the streets of his hometown. Countless greetings lined up behind him, giving him words of praise and support to which he only nodded a few times, nothing more, and continued his walk. The silence of his thoughts was broken by a hoarse female voice. Although it was rough, it sounded kind of gentle. He soon discovered to whom it belonged, when a plump old woman with black hair streaked with gray strands stepped in front of the captain. Her wrinkled face wearing a smiled from ear to ear, her eyes squinting at the young man.“Benimaru, my boy! I have something for you, please do except my gift in honor to you and the members of your squad.”- she was direct, not talking his ear off, just bowing slightly after her words and handing him a medium sized package. He stared in the thing wrapped in light blue material with a lack of interest that he did not hide not even the slightest. “Tempura and sushi, to hold you till the festival tonight.” – she explained getting back up from the slight bow. After a couple of lazy blinks, he raised his hand and responded. “That is alright, we will wait till the festival.”- without waiting for a response, he passed the woman in attempt to leave, but she was not letting go so easily. Shoving the thing in his hands, she smiled again, not bothered by his behavior.“Nonsense! Twins will love it, and we all know Konro could use a break for cooking today.”- Benimaru sighed, pushing the package slowly back at her, but before he could say anything, a female voice sharp like katana echoed the street. “Obaachan, can you please stop giving food to the people who clearly have no decency to even say thank you? Rudeness should not be rewarded.”- (Y/N) stood at the door of their restaurant, squeezing the sleeves of her kimono. Benimaru didn't say a word, looking at the young girl with the expressionless face. The lack of his reaction only made (Y/N) even angrier as she furiously crossed her arms over her chest. “(Y/N), you watch your mouth! You are addressing our beloved captain, to whom you owe your safety!”- obaachan scolded her, raising her finger as a warning, but that didn't stop (Y/N) from responding with even greater ferocity, targeting Benimaru with a look of utter contempt. “Because he is a captain, he should show more respect to his people and their offerings! Shouldn’t leaders be role models? Poor us if that is the case. People usually pay for the food in our restaurant, and yet he shows no gratitude even when his meal is free!”- she did not waver, her stand proud and determent, not showing even a bit of fear from the man who is the head of this town. “Child, hush! Go back inside right now! Sol help your rude mouth!”- Obaachan started waving her hands, showing (Y/N) to go back inside the house, turning to Benimaru. “I apologize captain Shinmon, (Y/N) did not mean it.”- the elderly woman bowed again, with clear expression of shame smeared around her wrinkled face. Still speechless, Benimaru watched the girl, who was now biting her lower lip in frustration as if it were chewing gum. Eventually, he slung the bundle over his shoulder, turning on his heel. “Thank you for the meal madam (Lastname of your family).” – that was the only thing he said, strolling down the dusty street without turning around again. Even though he wanted to allow his mismatched eyes to gaze upon the fearless woman one more time....

The celebration that had its core in the great hall that belonged to your family, otherwise intended for weddings and large feasts, was already spreading like wildfire. People were raising glasses full of sake, feasting on specialties they had been preparing all day, but they preferred to treat their palates to desserts that belonged to your family restaurant. Young artists danced a traditional dance with fans, attracting curious glances with their gorgeous and colorful kimonos. Outside, the streets were crowded with people, gazing merrily at the early fireworks that ate up the starry sky with their tantalizing shapes. You were in charge of serving the guests who sat on the heated floor of the hall in front of the beautifully carved tables. Countless comments on your beauty and grace have accompanied you in your assignment, while you have given a kind smile to anyone who would praise you. No one has noticed that your eyes jump restlessly from person to person, searching the room in hopes of encountering the phlegmatic face of the man who was the source of your deepest suffering.You were afraid that your sharp tongue had resulted in his absence, that he wouldn't show up for the rest of the evening, maybe not after either. Did you overdo it... or didn't you? He was rude after all! Yes it is true, he is guilty of this! You weren't even aware that your angry thoughts betrayed the state of your mind on your face. You eyebrows narrowed, lips squeezed in a straight line, your body tense, as you rushed towards the kitchen, when a familiar voice addressed you. “(Y/N)! Your family always knew how to make the best celebrations, I congratulate you.”- a tall man with a kind blue eyes  that resembled a calm and mysterious sea, smiled at you, holding the door of the kitchen open for you. “Konro! I..”- you stopped for a second, almost dropping the mountain of dirty dishes you were carrying,  as your eyes finally find the one they’ve been searching for. A smile almost escaped your lips, but you prevented your rooted emotions to show. Behind the tall man, Benimaru was standing, scanning the room full of cheerful people. He did not even look at you once, and you could feel the frustration rising in you again. Who does he think he is? No matter how much you were bothered by his disinterested posture, your eyes wandered over his crossed arms on his chest, the muscle that adorned his forearms reached to the very core of your desire. The hands filled with veins always looked tense and ready to fight, as if  he was waiting to defend the whole world with them, alone. You could no longer resist the sight, you had to run away. Blubbering a couple of thanks to the lieutenant, you ran past his arm into the kitchen, kicking the door with your foot behind you to close them. You took quick steps to the sink and nearly broke half the porcelain plates when you threw them inside. You grasped the edges of the sink, closing your eyes shut and taking a deep breath. Before you could muster your whirlwind of thoughts, a young woman approached you from the back.“You know, if you were not such a proud and bratty thing, you would be breaking beds now and not dishes.” – (B/F – name of your best friend) mocked your state without restraining one bit. Your nerves were thin, and being called out like this only made you react like a cornered animal.“Shut up, I don’t know what you are talking about (B/F). Seriously, if you worked even the half of the time you spend teasing people, we would actually get something done. “-you snapped at her, pulling out  bamboo boxes filled to the brim with colorful mochis. “Sure, if you had a bite to support all that barking, maybe you would get something done. I think Benimaru would appreciate your teeth on his skin more than your mouth just bullshiting all the time.”- she did not back down,wrapping the strands of hair around her finger, (B/F) continued before you could counter attack.“How long has it been since you started drooling over Waka? A year? Year and a half? Oh my God, when I remember how pissed you were when you though he was dating that girl from company 8th just because she brought some papers a couple of times.”- the more she talked, the more did rage boil in you, so much that  it seemed that steam will start going out of your ears. Her voice only rose as she continued through laughter.“Damn, you made me wait  around corners like crazy people just so we can see if they are a couple or not. And when it finally turned out they were not, I will never forget your jumping in the air from excitement.”- before she could say any more , something gooey and sticky landed right on her forehead. She whined in surprise, as the pieces of mochi started falling down her face.“Anything else you want to add?!Huh?!”- you lifted your hand high, ready to throw another mochi at her.“Maybe if you threw yourself on Benimaru in the same way you are throwing this mochi, you would get some and your nerves would calm down!!”- she screamed before ducking down as your hand catapulted another one at her.  You didn’t even know that your little show didn’t go as private as you thought. The high tones of the people from the main hall were unfortunately not enough to cover your voices, and one curious ear absorbed every word. Benimaru lowered his head, starting to walk away from the kitchen door. Under his raven hair, a grin was hiding.

He sat quietly watching the people around him fiercely try to get his attention. Some were male neighbors praising his fighting skills, their speech interrupted by hiccups from too much sake was almost humorous, while on the other hand a couple of girls discreetly tried to gain his favor, but all they got was a restrained smile. He brought the glass to his lips to take a sip of the bitter liquid, but there were no more inside. Your grandmother, who was actually only a few seats away from him, noticed the lack of refreshment for the beloved captain, and of course, called your name instantly. “(Y/N)! Fill the captain’s cup!”- you kept away from his table. Actually, you targeted those behind him, in order to better avoid a face-to-face encounter. The things (B/F) told you bothered you too much, and you didn't just want to deepen your cravings and quarrel with yourself over the feelings you carry for this man. Hearing your name, Benimaru tilted his head, looking over his strong shoulder with his glowing eyes. That deep gaze made you swallow, barely keeping you composure. You knew if you came any closer you would break, and you will not give him that satisfaction. You lifted you chin up,  pushed back your shoulders, and turned on your heal as the cold answer followed.“He has hands. He can fill it up himself.”- without second thought, you walked away, but you swore you could feel a set of burning eyes following you.

The hallways were empty, all the guests retreated to the main hall. As the night went on, even the workers began to relax, completing their work and joining the rest of the town in celebration. There was no longer a need to bring the food from the kitchen, at least for the time being, the tables were full. (B/F) was the last person leaving the kitchen, as you said you will join her shortly, you just wanted to finish a few things up. Carrying the empty bamboo boxes, you took a turn into the hallway bathed in dim light, crashing with your shoulder into something big and hard. You blinked in shock, barely managing not to drop the boxes on the floor. The thing in front of you was a person, and seeing him made your heart race. Benimaru Shinmon stood there silently, his eyes half opened, shoulders relaxed, while he studied you.  You almost bit your lip, but seeing the man baring that uninterested expression once more, made your blood boil instead. “Excuse me is the words you are looking for! You should watch where you are going.”- you said irritated, trying to go pass him, hiding your flustered face beneath your hair. A feeling of slight pain spread throw your back as it crashed on the wall. It took you a couple of seconds to figure out what was going on, that is, you needed to believe that this was not one of your dreams. Pressed with his hips on your abdomen, Benimaru towered over you. He seemed stronger than usual, more dangerous, but there was not a shred of fear in you, just excitement. “Wh..what are you doing?! Get off!”- funny you should say that, when in reality you didn’t wiggle or struggle at all, your big mouth once again just stood in your way in order to show your true feelings. But Benimaru was no fool. He did not respond on your demands, instead, he tilted his head on the side, like he was checking something, then returned his gaze on you. You could feel the ground disappearing under you. You gasped at the unsettling feeling, trying to grab onto something from pure instinct. But the only thing you managed to grab was the one making you lose the floor under your feet in the first place. Benimaru picked you up by your waist, his forearm adorned with prominent veins wrapped around your waist like a snake, not letting go of his prey. He was fast, pushing the door of the kitchen that was empty and dark, kicking it again as they closed with a loud bang that made you flinch, while he turned the key in the lock. “Benimaru ! What the hell? I said let go!”- in reality, you hated the thought of his hands leaving your body. The feeling that flowed through your veins when you were this close to him, almost took over even your insolence, but the bits that were left now squirted like popcorn from your lips. “You are too huffish, (Y/N).”- his voice smooth like honey, but a bit dark. The sudden feeling of falling down made a muffled whine to escape your mouth, but you did not hit the ground. He held you in his lap while he sat down on a kitchen table. Your permanent denial tried to strike for the last time, making you turn around furiously, facing the man who dared to pick you up like a helpless and fragile thing. But the sharpness of your words did not come down from your lips, when sweetness filled your taste buds. The warm flesh of his lips now merged with yours. The bitter taste of the sake he drank from didn't bother you, because for you he tasted like cupid's wine, intoxicating you, maddening your thoughts and driving your senses wild. You felt dizzy from the heat that rushed into your cheeks when he first ran his tongue over yours, caressing its soft surface with his tender muscle. You tried to get some air in your lungs but you didn't know how to breathe, you were so enchanted by his kisses. You almost swore in displeasure when he pulled his lips away from yours.“If you just did this, we would be able to skip the punishment.”- confused, you did not even manage to answer his statement when his hands that were resting on your waist till now, pulled you down and flipped you across his lap. Your knees landed on the wooden surface of the table, as you kept your balance on your elbows in the front. “What…what are you doing?”- you asked with a shaky voice, seeing how his hand hold you by the material of you kimono on your lower back, keeping you steady. “I declined the home made meal from your obaachan today because I knew we already had a meal prepared for the day.”- he said sliding his rough palm of his free hand across your spine, down to the your lower back, all the way to your peachy ass. You bit you lip, shivering when his touch did not stop, traveling down your thigh, then taking a handful of fabric of your kimono.“Taking more would mean throwing it away because it would not be eaten. And that would be disrespectful.”- he jerked your kimono abruptly, exposing your entire lower body. Your perfectly shaped ass made him discreetly lick his lips, while you covered your face with your palms in shame. “I-I…I didn’t k..know that ..”- you tried to explain yourself, but in vain, as his voice  responded harshly, accompanied with his finger movement, slipping under the side of your panties. You whined loudly as his index finger brushed along your folds.“You did not bother to ask. But fortunately as you said earlier, I do have my hands. And with my hands I plan to teach you how to behave.”- the sound of tearing fabric filled the kitchen. You bit your hand when you felt the exhaled air from his mouth pass over your naked cunt. He was so close that he could feel the heat coming from it, barely restraining himself from biting into that cookie. You stirred a little, the discomfort ate at you up, the feeling of arousal overcame you.“Don’t look there….Benimaru, please I-….”

“You know how to say please already? Well, I wonder what it will take to teach you to say sorry.”- his fingertips crossed over your silky pussy lips, gently caressing the rosy flesh. You whimpered at the slow pace of his movements. He didn't remove his head, he calmly watched the wet glow slowly appear on those folds. He pushed his finger closer to the opening, collecting some sticky liquid with his fingertip. He didn't push his finger inside, but continued to draw a line along your slit. “Oh my Sol!”- you cried out, squirming already, but that did not even make him flinch. He pushed his digit a bit harder, make it sink into the sensitive flesh, brushing over it all so gently. “Sol will not help you (Y/N), but some manners might. Luckily again, as you said, captain should be a role model, showing the people the art of good manners.”- his thumb slipped across your clit, making the rough skin stimulate it so greatly it made your icing flow more intensely. You yearned for him to do it again, but you were out of luck. This was not supposed to be something to reward you with, this was a straight up lesson to teach you what will happen when your bratty mouth bump into an opponent like Benimaru. He settled his thumb above your throbbing nerve bud, adding another finger to the game. His index and middle finger pulled your pussy lips slowly, massaging them between them. The sensation you were feeling made you feel dizzy. The overwhelming pleasure that arose in you now got your legs shaking without stopping. The feeling was unbearable, because he touched all the sensitive places but leaving the critical ones empty and eager. This teasing was so arousing your juices now strained down your thigh. The crystal like liquid did not go unnoticed by Benimaru, as a grin appeared on his face. Without a second though, he lowered his head, sticking his tongue out and pressing it on your plushy thighs, collecting the juices in long strokes. “Beni!!”- you moaned like a whore, voice filled with begging desire and maddening need, but he did not plan to be interrupted. He slid his hand under you, finding your mouth and sticking the fingers coated in your icing in it.“Clean this up, while I clean you down here.”- he lifted his hand a bit to make you close your mouth around his fingers, pumping them in and out to insure you will do the job well. You sobbed in a low voice as you sucked on your own cum, barely concentrating on his order when the feeling of him patiently licking off the wetness along your thighs and getting closer to your cunt made you almost faint. His soft muscle finally found its way to the grand prize, as he brushed it on your folds and around your entrance in circular motions. You could not take it, you started to push your ass back, trying to make him stick his tongue in, touch your clit, anything to give you the sweet release you so desperately needed. But he will not grant you that. He pressed his mouth right on your heated hole, and started sucking, gathering the last of your juices. You body was on the edge, you could feel your heart skipping a beat, lungs barely catching air and muscles tensing, begging for that much needed release, but the only thing you got was a tender kiss on your clit, before he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, and lifting you off of him. He placed you in the sitting position, spreading your legs so your cunt was fully exposed to him once more. Your own wetness was smeared around your lips. You lowered your gaze, seeing something that made your mouth drop open. On Benimaru’s loose pants, there were more than clear outlines of his thick dick. You never saw something like that before, stretching the fabric mercilessly. He was not big, he was huge, and you wanted every damn inch buried inside of you. But you again forgot that this was not your lucky day….“You can only watch as I get the release that you are forbidden to reach tonight.” he slid his hand under his pants, giving his length a couple of experimental pumps before exposing the beast to you.“If you will behave, next time I will reward you, this time you will only swallow your bratty words…and my cum.”- he started slowly jerking it off, gazing at your plumb lips where his load will end.

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#benimaru shinmon #fire force #enen no shouboutai #benimaru shinmon x reader #benimaru shinmon x you #enen no shouboutai x reader #enen no shouboutai smut #benimaru shinmon headcanons #fire force benimaru #benimaru x reader #enen no shoubotai headcanons

[magalidragon]

For the Drabble challenge: 29 + 30 please! 😁

Here’s one! I have #30 coming up in a minute! This is set in a new universe, just something sweet and soft and maybe a tad angsty!

Safe Haven | 29. “Come over here and make me!”

"Daenerys get down from there and come here!"

"Come over here and make me!"

Jon muttered under his breath, storming towards the large oak tree behind his house-- and hers-- rummaging around in the dirty leaves and mud to find the knot at the base where he put his foot and then the groove just a foot above his head for his hand, beginning to haul himself up the back way towards the house above him.  "I'm going to kill you," he vowed, hating when he had to get up this way because she'd cranked up the rope ladder.

He emerged at the top, crawling over ungracefully onto the platform and fell to prop his back against the wall, peering into the treehouse where she sat, her face a beautiful mess of fury, fire, and pain.  She sniffed, hiding it behind her hand, and he ducked his head.  He knew she didn't like it when he saw her cry.  His dragon was always so strong.  He hit his head against one of the tree branches that curved out from the main trunk, which was in the center of the house.

It was hard to tell what came first, the tree or the treehouse.  It had been there forever; he joked that hte Children of the Forst must have built it.  It belonged to no one, stuck behind his house and hers, in a space of the Wolfswood that did not fall on his family's property or hers.  He drew his knee up to his chest and hooked his arm around it, holding onto his ankle.  "Dany, please," he said softly.  "It's not the end of the world."

"You're leaving!"

"I was always going to leave!"

"You didn't <i>tell</i> me!"

He would give her that one.  He closed his eyes, sighing hard.  Couldn't take it back.  "You knew I was going to join," he muttered.  There wasn't much for him.  He wasn't interested in going to college.  He had great grades, was one of the top of his class, but it wasn't for him and he knew it.  "I didn't want you there when I did."

She scowled, reaching over and picked up a stray beer can from the other night when they'd spent the entire time that his cousin had a party hiding away in their own private one.  She chucked it at him, with no heat behind the action.  "I hate you."

"I love you."

"I hate you."

He crawled towards her, repeating the words.  Over and over.  "I love you, I love you, I love you."

"No," she cried, when he pulled her small frame into his arms, and she cried into his chest as he rocked her.  She hiccuped, clutching his shirt.  "It's all changing Jon."

"I know."  He was leaving the only place he knew as his home, joining the military, disappearing into wherever or whatever they wanted him to do, although he had ideas.  Ideas he wouldn't tell her about because she could convince him otherwise.  He kissed her brow.  This was the only place she had thought of as her home, after an entire life of moving from place to place.  He exhaled, eyes fluttering shut.  "Dany...if you were with me...I would not have done it and...and I have to do this."

"I know."  She tilted her face up, the sunlight dying away at the end of the early summer day, her face a pale oval, tears streaking.  She blinked her violet eyes, looking indigo in the dim light.  Her silver hair was tangled, dirty from spending most of the day in the treehouse.  She brushed her lips along his pulse, racing.  "Hold me Jon, just...just hold me until the end."

If he had his way there wouldn't be an end.  He nodded and squeezed her close, until their hands grew bored, their emotions needing release, and they peeled at each other's clothing until they were making love under the stars, still not close to being 'experts' at the act even after the last few months of numerous hours of practice.

When he woke up in the morning, she was gone, and he stared at the carved heart in the tree trunk, smiling at it.  he wouldn't see her again; he had a feeling she was already on her way to Essos.

One day, he hoped, and he gathered up his clothes and climbed out of the treehouse, tossing the rope ladder up so no one could get to their safe haven.

--

Dany had not been back since she left for college. It broke her heart, being back here, but she had to return, because it was Ned Stark's funeral.  It was important for her to be there; he was always so kind to her, the weird silver-haired "Ghost Girl" they called her.  He knew her family's issues, why her mother had relocated them up North, as far away from anyone in the South who might know about her father's embezzlement and crimes. She hated running, she just wanted a place to call home.

And it wasn't even really home until she had discovered that ancient treehouse in the woods behind her house.  Except she wasn't the only one.

It became their place.  The weird bastard child with no mother and father, left to the charity of his aunt and uncle, and the see-through Ghost Girl.  They were the best of friends.  They did everything there.  It was where she had gone to cry over her brother Rhaegar's death, her brother Viserys running away and leaving them, all the kids making fun of her, and the highs and lows of friendship and heartbreak.  They watched meteor showers and stared at the stars, they both had their first drunk moments there-- and hangovers-- the first time they sampled Shade of the Evening-- she hated it, he threw up-- where she hid her cat Drogon from her mother for a week before he got out and ended up in her bedroom.

It was where they had their first kiss-- she wanted to know what it was like and he had already told his cousin he'd kissed someone-- laughing and giggling through it.  Then it was where they relaized they were in love with each other, shouting and angry because he'd gone on a few days with Ygritte Wilde who was telling everyone she'd taken his virginity and where she had been stood up on a 'date' that turned out to be his stupid fucking cousin Sansa setting her up for humilation.

They'd admitted their love, they had fumbled through their first time there-- and second, third, and fourth too.  It was where everything important happened.

It was where he broke her heart.  Where she broke his.

She stared up at it, reaching up with a branch to knock at the rope ladder, grunting from effort since it was caked to the wood from years of weather and countless leaves falling.  A clump of leaves and sticks fell, almost showering her with the detritus, and she smiled, lightly touching the frayed rope.  "Well if I die climbing this thing, that's appropriate," she muttered, hooking her foot into the bottom and making her way up.

It was like time stood still in the treehouse.

It was dusty, piles of leaves and dirt in the corners.  There was a blanket that had been eaten through by some animal, nothing but thread now.  She used to be able to stand straight up in it, but now she crouched, glancing around, smiling at it all.  There were a couple of band posters they'd tacked up, the paper caked onto the walls now.  If she touched it it would probably turn to dust.

And the trunk in the middle, with the carved heart, weather worn and the wood darkened.  She traced her finger along it.  DANY + JON.

She hadn't seen him yet; the funeral wasn't until tomorrow.

They had a lot to catch up on, she supposed, rocking onto her heels.  It was for self preservation she'd left him that morning.  That they'd ceased all communication.  It would kill her to keep it up.  They needed to leave.  To create their own lives and futures.

She exhaled, a puff of cold air coming out and she frowned, glancing down and realizing that the ashtray that she had made in art class was still there.  Except there was a single cigarette butt in it.  Delicately, she lifted it, and her eyes widened; it was still warm.  "Bloody hells," she cursed.

"Hi Dany."

Whipping her head, she fell backwards onto her butt, feet sliding under her.  She gaped at the opposite doorway; the back entrance up to the house, the way that they had to take if one of them had pulled up the rope ladder.  "Jon," she gasped.

He looked good.  Dark curls over his forehead and ears, his beard trim and lines threading from his eyes.  Gray, singular eyes, that made her think of the winter storms and the angry seas.  He smiled shyly, an arm draped over his knee.  "I heard you and...and I don't know why I hid," he admitted, shy.

She swallowed hard.  She wanted to yell at him for some reason.  He'd been in the papers six months ago; a dangerous mission at the Wall.  He could have died.  "Jon," she repeated.

He scooted a little closer to her.  "You look good."

Her hair was shorter than it had been.  She didn't know what to say.  What did you say after all this time to hte only man you had ever loved?  The only boy?  She took a deep breath, exhaled hard, and then did the only thing she suspected one could do.

She kissed him.

Lunged towards him, arms flying about his neck, and planted her mouth so hard on his, she knocked him backwards, and he grunted, the breath pushed out of him from her tiny body sitting on his.  He grabbed her hips and kissed her back, as urgent and desperate as her.  They were in heavy parkas and scarves, but none of that mattered, because she could hear his heart racing in time with hers, and feel the same hot bloody pulsing through him as her.

He broke the kiss a second later, hand rising to cup her cheek; it was cold, but she didn't mind, because the shock reminded her this was real.  "Dany," he sighed.

"I love you," she mumbled.  Tears trickled down her cheeks.  "I love you still Jon.  I don't care if you've changed, or...or if you're with someone or something...because I will always love you."

He smiled slowly and nuzzled his nose against hers, their hot breaths mingling.  "I love you too."  He paused, his brow wrinkling.  "And...and there's no one..  There's never been anyone but you."

They had so much to talk about, so much to catch up on, but for now, she needed to just remind herself that he was there, with her, in their safe space, away from anyone else.  She kissed him again, and again, and buried her face into his neck, smiling, finally at home.

#jonerys #jonerys au #my fics #my moodboards #jonerys fanfic #drabble ask

[thesightstoshowyou]

Big Bad Wolf

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull) x AFAB Reader (NSFW)

Summary: Jesse likes to chase and you have no choice but to run.  

Warnings: Predator/prey, knife play, oral, daddy kink, period sex, creampie

I’m back on my bullshit. Blame my uterus.  

 ~~

             Your panting breaths bounce off the concrete walls, blending with the sound of your frantic footsteps until all you can hear is your panic. There’s no way you’re going to be able to hear him approach when you’re making all this racket. Be calm, you must breathe.

            You round a corner, another endless gray hallway stretching before you. Where the fuck has he brought you? You wrinkle your nose as the sharp scent of bleach burns your nostrils. Overhead, florescent lights flicker and you press your back against the cool wall as you try to reign in your noisy breathing.

            You listen intently, straining your ears to hear any other movement besides your own. Your head swings wildly left and right, searching the hall for the glint of a chrome mask. Thank goodness for these fluorescents—

            As if on cue, the lights go out with a click and you’re plunged into darkness. You clap a hand over your mouth to muffle your terrified shriek. Great. Now you’re really screwed.

            A blood chilling rattle greets your ears—knife dragging on concrete—and you flinch, pushing away from the wall to hone in on the sound. Sparks fly to your right and you realize he’s closer than you thought. Heart shooting up into your throat, you turn on your heel and stumble, catching yourself on the wall and pushing away. You feel the whoosh as the knife plunges through air behind you, missing you by inches.

            You skid around the corner, sprinting down the next long hallway, almost completely blind in the gloom. You keep your arms raised awkwardly in front of you for fear you’re going to slam headlong into a wall and knock yourself out.

            Heavy boot falls echo off the walls and you have to bite back the scream that threatens to give you away. You do your best to ignore the realization that you’re completely fucked. He has night vision on that camera, there’s no way he isn’t going to find you….

            You nearly collide with a wall, shoes sliding on the slippery floor as you stagger to a halt. With a grunt you land on your ass instead, quickly jumping to your feet and feeling along the wall for the next turn. Wall meets wall under your palms and your heart sinks.

            Hastily, you feel in the opposite direction, only to end up in another corner. A dead end. You whip around and find the red light of Chromeskull’s camera poised at the other end of the hall. It illuminates his shoulder and half his mask, creepy design made more terrifying by the crimson light glinting off chrome.

            Your lungs burn as you try to suck in air, racing thoughts struggling to form a plan, something, anything that could save you. You jerk when he takes a step, then two more before coming to a stop again. He’s teasing you, trying to make you panic.

            Light from his phone screen illuminates the rest of his mask and you wince when you hear the screaming words he’s typed:

            ‘Big Bad Wolf has Little Red backed into a corner.’

            “My, what a big ego you have,” you spit back, dropping into a crouch, preparing for his approach.

            ‘Ready or not.’ He launches himself at you then, racing toward you with frightening speed. Red light glints off his blade and you duck just in time, sparks flying when steel connects with the wall. You scramble past on hands and knees, pushing to your feet and launching yourself down the hall, but something catches on your ankle and you crash to the ground, sliding on the floor and tearing open your knees and palms.

            “Fuck,” you grunt, reaching blindly for the wall to haul yourself to your feet. You bloody palm meets fabric instead of concrete and you freeze, head raising slowly until your gaze meets glowing red chrome. A boot presses into your chest, shoving you back to the floor and knocking the air from your lungs.

            You cough and gasp when the foot lifts from your chest, but immediately still when a sharp blade meets your throat. Chromeskull crawls over you, straddling your hips. He taps the flat of his knife against your cheek and you huff in annoyance.

            “Yeah, you won, I noticed. Not really fair when only one of us has night vision,” you grumble. You watch the camera light bob up and down with Jesse’s silent laughter.

            ‘Go fuck yourself,’ you sign in mock irritation. Truthfully, you’re biting back a smile.

            ‘Think I’ll fuck you instead,’ he signs back and your eyebrows raise.

            “Really romantic location you picked—

            He doesn’t let you finish your snarky comment, instead slipping the knife under your shirt and sawing through the fabric. You suck in a breath when you feel the sting of the blade as it nicks your abdomen. Warmth spills down your waist to drip onto the floor.

            Jesse leaves the half-shredded shirt hanging off your arms and moves to your jeans, slipping the blade under the button and popping it clean off your pants. It clatters across the chilly floor, disappearing in the darkness. You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Must he destroy all your clothes?

            Your pants fall open and he tugs them down your hips, only freeing one leg before sliding the knife between your hip and underwear, toying with the band. His fingers, clothed in black nitrile, push your panties to the side and teasingly stroke your folds. You whimper and are about to ask for more when you remember you’re wearing a tampon.

            “Oh, Jesse, I’m on—

            In a flash, the flat of the knife is against your lips, cool steel commanding silence. You wonder if you should press your luck, shaky breath fogging the shiny surface of the blade, but you yelp when he tugs the string, yanking the tampon from your bleeding cunt and tossing it behind him. So, he knew.

            His fingers replace the cotton and you let your eyes flutter closed when he strokes your walls, curling the digits to make you arch off the floor. His thumb finds your clit and you moan against metal. An idea strikes you then that has the corner of your mouth twitching up in a sly grin.

            Making eye contact with his camera, you drag your tongue up the blade hovering over your mouth. You hear Jesse wheeze behind his mask. He rips his fingers from your cunt and you groan irritably at the loss. His hand goes to your hair and he hauls you to your knees, his other fingers ripping his pants open.

            Warm, hard flesh meets your lips and you open wide for him. His thick cock stretches your jaw uncomfortably and you gag when you feel him on the back of your tongue. The hand in your hair forces your further down the shaft until you’re swallowing him into your throat. Jesse bucks his hips, sloppily fucking your throat, knife returning to your face to hang threateningly near your ear.

            You moan between gags, hear your spit splattering onto the floor, feel tears streaking down your hot cheeks. You must look a mess on the camera screen. Your hands go to his ass, pulling him closer in a move you know will destroy his resolve.

            Another haggard breath leaves his mask and he pulls you off his cock, hands slotting under your armpits and heaving you off the floor. He lifts you clean off your feet, slamming you into the wall and pinning you there with his thighs. You wrap your legs around his hips, whining and grinding your aching, slippery pussy along the length of his spit-soaked cock.

            You glance up when he doesn’t move and you find his head tilted to the side expectantly. He’s waiting for something. Again, you must fight the urge to roll your eyes.

            “Please, daddy,” you beg, allowing yourself to sound as desperate as you feel, “I need your cock, please fuck me—

            He must be impatient tonight because he doesn’t make you finish, instead gripping your ass, shifting your weight to his hands and lining up. You scream when he slams home, impaling you in one smooth thrust. The knife handle rests in his palm, between the flesh of your ass and his hand, so the flat of the blade digs into your skin with each harsh pump of his hips.

            You wince when it stings, sharp edge cutting into your flesh, but Jesse acts oblivious, gaze and camera focused intently on the bloody cock popping in and out of your slit. He shuffles his feet so you can lean back further and he jackhammers you into the wall until you forget about the knife slicing your ass.

            Your hands fist the lapels of his suit jacket, knuckles turning white as your screams ricochet off the walls, “Daddy, daddy, yeah, yes, fuck, yes, please, pleasepleasepleaseplease….”

            You hear the knife clatter to the floor as Jesse leans in and you press your lips to the cold teeth on his mask, your hot breath fogging up the surface as you moan his name. You tense, the spring of pleasure coiling within you ready to snap. You feel Jesse shaking against your palms so you wait, poised at the edge, ready to fall when he does.

            Jesse’s hips buck faster, your cue, and your head falls back, lips parting in a silent cry as delicious heat washes over you in waves. More warmth spills into your belly when Jesse releases a long breath. The sticky combination of blood and cum leaks around his cock to drip onto the floor.

            You pry your legs away from his waist and slowly he lowers you until your feet touch the floor. You grip the wall to steady yourself, wobbly knees threatening to buckle. Jesse always makes sure your cunt remembers him the next day.

            “Where’s the exit in this god forsaken place?” you ask, shimmying back into your jeans, wincing when the fabric rubs against your lacerated rear. You peer up and down the hall as though the orange ‘Exit’ sign is going to miraculously show itself. You frown up at Jesse when he shakes his head.

            ‘Round two, baby,’ he signs.

            “No way, Jess, c’mon, I can hardly walk—

            Jesse shoves you down the hall and you stumble, barely managing to keep your feet under you. Incredulously, you stare back at him and he looks at his watch, tapping the face of it with the knife. Holding up his hand, he walks his fingers through the air, indicating you should move.

            “Fuck me,” you mutter, turning on your heel and limping down the hall. The screeched words from his phone send a jolt of adrenaline through your limbs and you will yourself to run:

            ‘Your ass is next, Little Red.’

#jesse cromeans #jesse cromeans x reader #chromeskull #chromeskull x reader #laid to rest #chromeskull: laid to rest 2 #laid to rest 2 #n sfw #my writing #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #blood #reader insert

[blubberingmess]

[Little guy: Bubba] *your view*

Soulmate AU

Pairing: Bucky/chibi!bucky x male!reader

• yes, there will be another part but in Bucky's view :) sorry not sorry

Summary: A life with your grumpy chibi, before you met your soulmate.

Warning: none

Ideas for what chibi!bucky looks like (minus the ears and tail - maybe next time). Drawings aren't mine, also the gif below.

More info about the AU (Please read):

There's no particular time or date when the small version of their soulmate-- or what most people called chibi-- would randomly come out from nowhere, dressed in their favorite/mostly used clothes. They mostly appear when one turned eighteen to twenty-five. On some rare occasions, some chibis won't show up until the person turned to their thirties.

No one knows how it works, not even the scientists. They have never experimented on one because they can't, for chibis cannot be killed no matter how you tried. They only disappears when the real version of them dies. But! They can get hurt, it won't bruise or anything but they can feel the pain.

Chibis don't talk, they communicate through actions and facial expressions from what you've heard. Your soulmate's mood affected the chibi version of themself, will mostly find comfort from their 'guardian' but that's all. People will affect their chibis emotionally, but not physical feelings like pain, hunger, etc.

They also have different personalities, the same personality your soulmate already have and also the personality they would build themselves from how you would treat them.

They eat, drink, sleep like normal people would. They have a mind of their own and as smart as the person they represent.

They also age, their skin wrinkles and their hair grays as well. One woman you found out that her soulmate is twenty years older than her, a few gray streaks of hairs can be seen on her chibi.

Also, they are as small as the size of you hand - even taller depends on your soulmate. But the chibi with the size of your palm are almost always be 6ft < your soulmate. That means if you're smaller than him, your chibi self will be smaller than your palm which means it'll be so much smaller than your soulmate's palm which is.... oh god. You'll get squished! But that's okay, your chibi self can't die ;)

While your soulmate is the person representing your chibi, your chibi's soulmate is your soulmate's chibi :) chibi's are much more emotional - the real emotion of the person. For example; your soulmate is angry at you while his chibi self is not, then that means he isn't actually angry.

More info about them as you read through the story :)

Ask me anything about it if your ever confused or curious and I'll try my hardest to answer it ♡ or this AU is already made, then I apologize if I explained something wrong. This is just how I see this AU would work :)

Also, if you don't like or against fics like this, you are very much welcome to ignore this or unfollow me (igaf, boo) I support LGBTQ+ wether you like it or not~

[Chibi!Winter Soldier]

It was a cold night of December when you first met your chibi, a rather scary meeting to be honest. You were just making yourself a cup of hot cocoa when you heard a shuffling behind you, it was almost inaudible but you heard it.

Slowly turning around, you didn't see anyone, but you did saw something move on the counter just behind the large bowl of fruits you have. There's a pair of steely blue eyes on top of the bananas, quickly ducking down as soon as it saw you snapping your eyes at it. Though, it was no use, it has already been caught and the mop of brunette can still be seen from your point of view.

"You know I can see you right?" Your voice laced with amusement as you spoke, already knew what the small guy is. The chibi tensed, the top of its head poking up more from behind the yellow fruit.

"Its okay, little guy, I'm not going to hurt you," you coaxed the chibi with a soft voice, letting them know you genuinely don't mean any harm. Regardless of how calm your voice sounds, your inner self is currently freaking out at this moment. Heart hammering against your chest as you anticipate on what's about to happen; excited to finally meet your chibi, the mini version of your soulmate!

Slowly but surely, you sees him peek half of his head to the side. Frosty blue eyes staring up at you cautiously-- curiously-- as he analyze your face for a moment before slowly completely stepping out from his hiding place, an arm behind his back.

You immediately noticed the mask that's covering the lower part of his face, and his clothes; some type of tactical gear.

Is your soulmate a soldier or something? An agent?

You were about to take a step forward to properly greet the chibi when he suddenly pulls out a knife from behind him, held by a metal arm, the same arm he's been hiding as he stepped out. A small, but surprisingly intimidating growl emits from him making you lift your hands up in surrender.

"Woah there, buddy! I thought chibis were supposed to be soft and loving? I didn't know they would also want to stab you in the freaking face!"

Another growl before he pulled out something from his thigh holster; a handgun.

You gulped. "Or two. Damn."

He didn't do anything but glare at you, and if looks could kill, you would've been six - no, sixty feet below right now. The chibi's action confuses you greatly, especially after hearing about them being really clingy and sweet towards their 'guardian'; not this!

My soulmate must be a real hot-headed motherfu--

Your thought was cut off by a low rumble that reverberated throughout the whole kitchen, disrupting the tense silence between the two of you. Looking around the kitchen and back down at the small, feisty chibi, you gave him a nervous smile and asks, "You hungry?"

The chibi's eyes flickers at the warm mug behind you then back up at your eyes, silently asking - no- commanding you. You cautiously and slowly dropped down your right hand, stiffening as you heard him cocked his tiny gun.

You doubt it could actually kill you but it still looks intimidating, especially the little guy who is aiming it at you.

"I'm just gonna give you the mug, see?" You grabbed the now warm cocoa and a thin straw you didn't know you'll actually need until now. Slowly making your way towards the counter where he stands, you carefully placing the coffee beside him before walking backwards on your previous spot.

He gingerly lowers his weapons, tucking them back inside his pocket and holster and walked towards the mug, not before giving you a warning look.

"Cookies?" You didng wait for a reply as you began searching through your cupboards, it's not like you expected it considering chibis can't talk.

The intimidating chibi watches you as he took a sip from the thin straw, following your every move with curious eyes. He can't help but feel guilty from his not-so-friendly first impression, it's his instinct to pull out a weapon - well, it's actually your soulmate's instinct, but there's truly nothing in his mind that could push him to actually hurt you.

Your soulmate would've done the same.

Placing the small plate of assorted cookies beside him, you crouched down and watches as he took a broken piece and began nibbling on it, giving you a chance to get a closer look at him.

His mask is now off and resting close to him, making you see his whole face. His lips are pink and a bit upturned on the sides, stubble around the lower part of his face. He looks gloomy and tired, like there's something bothering him for days - even months. No doubt there's not, from how he looks and how he acted a few minutes ago, you could instantly tell that your soulmate isn't like anybody else.

It scares you and excites you at the same time.

You came back to reality when you noticed that something is being pushed right in front of your face, it's a mini chocolate chip cookie. Trailing your eyes from the cookie and to the chibi who's holding it out for you, a smile adorned your face when you saw him looking to the side with a nonchalant look on his face, a small blush on his cheeks.

"Hey bubba? Have you seen my pen?" You mutter-ask from your spot on the couch, looking around for your pen. Bubba (What you decided to call him) opened his eyes from the armrest of the couch on your left, looking up at you while still nibbling on his plum.

It's been three year since your first meeting with your chibi and living with the little guy isn't as bad as you thought it would, just scary. He would still glare at you and send you frosty looks but only when you would do something stupid or idiotic, but he immediately warms up at you after a few days.

Bubba gave you an 'are you serious' look before lifting his flesh hand up and tapping his ears two times before lowering them back down on his half-eaten plum. You kink an eyebrow before reaching up to your right ear and felt the pen you've been looking for the past five minutes, propping your left arm on the armrest behind Bubba.

"Thanks, little dude!"

Bubba just sassily rolled his eyes before he resumed nibbling on his beloved plum, eyes closing in bliss and instinctively leaning back on your arm as he do so.

Who knew the grumpy chibi likes to cuddle and curl up against you when you're reading or working inside your office, sometimes would even take a nap on your shoulder, on top of your head, or your lap kid he feels like it.

What you also noticed is that the little guy likes to eat, a lot, he would practically order you around to make him something sweet or savory, maybe even both. You don't actually mind, you like taking care of him, you just wish you could also take care of your soulmate like how you would take care of the chibi.

You learned that if your chibi would act this way; asking for different kinds of foods and demands affection from you, that means your soulmate is craving them just as much. But sadly, you're not there to actually give him what he needs, you doubt the chibi version of yourself could... maybe?

Oh how it breaks your heart everytime.

Speaking of breaking your heart, how many times had you woken up at the sound of Bubba's whimpers and cries at early mornings around two or four. Everytime he would curl up against your chest, crying and clutching at your shirt as you let him soak your shirt with his tears.

"Hey-hey, it's okay. It's okay, Bubba. Shh, you're okay. I got you, don't worry." you cooed, scooping the chibi with both of your hands. Bubba's shaking immediately subsides the moment he felt your soft, gentle touch on his back, breathing heavily while tightening his hold on your thumb like it's his lifeline.

Glossy blue eyes looking up at you in pain and sadness; almost begging, lips quivering as tears began pouring out from his eyes. Your heart clenched inside your chest as you watched him breakdown in your hands.

You want to calm him down. You want to help him so bad to get rid of the pain, the sadness, but you can't. Unless your soulmate can't calm down, the chibi in your hands won't.

Thankfully, episodes like that don't happened often and doesn't last long - not anymore. A small mood swings here and there but it would almost always immediately diminished after a minute or two.

Your soulmate's chibi must be calming him down. Good job, me that is also not me.

When you go out which isn't that often considering you work from home-- also seeing that you don't have that much friends outside to go away with-- Bubba will be guarded and on your shoulder at all times with his small metal hand on the back of your neck. He'll always have that deep scowl on his face that only softening up when looking at you or when you offer him sweets - ice cream preferably.

You did left him one time, only coming back to a very stressed out and dishielved looking Bubba. Thinking at first that your soulmate is in another one of his heart wrenching episode, but it wasn't. You noticed it the moment you stepped inside the living room and seeing him perched up on the windowsill, his eyes immediately brightens up when he sees you - before frowning once again, crossing his arms over his chest and turning away from you with a pout.

You just sigh and didn't even make a move to hide the smile on your face.

Your chibi is such a drama queen.

[Chibi!Runningawayfromeveryone!Bucky]

You felt something lightly tickled your cheek but you're still sleepy to do anything about it, ignoring the next one your forehead, then on your other cheek, and then your temple. The small of plum and something woody with a hint of gun powder enters your nostril, a familiar scent you grew accustomed to for the past five years with your chibi.

"I'm awake. Geez, Bubba, good morning to you too." you chuckled, patting the said chibi on his head. Bubba grin up at you before giving you a sweet kiss on your nose then began nuzzling into your neck, sighing in content.

The temperature in Bucharest this time of year is quite cold but you're happy that it doesn't bother your chibi, he actually likes it. You decided to have a vacation; just you and Bubba, away from New York, your migraine inducing work - your family. It's all just too much for you to handle.

Bubba was the one who actually chose Bucharest for some unknown reason, he really wanted to go there and who are you to turn him down? Especially when he looks up at you with those big, pleading eyes of his.

Ugh. If this what your soulmate looks like, you don't know if you can handle him. You don't even know if you can say 'no' to him! Now that's scary.

Lifting up your gaze at the ceiling, a frown quickly replaced the soft smile on your face at the thought of your soulmate.

It's been five years since your chibi appeared and you're still yet to see him. You've hang out with the small group of friends you have, relatives, and even visit places you've never visited before with Bubba by your side, but it's all fruitless.

Maybe he's gone? No, Bubba is still here (snoring soundly). Maybe he don't want you? Can't be... right? Bubba likes you and find comfort in your touch. But... maybe it's just Bubba himself and not really your soulmate.

"Bubba stop moving around!" You hissed, gently grabbing the said chibi from your head. He started wriggling around like an excited puppy and tugging at your hair the moment the two of you stepped out from the hotel building, it's a weird behavior you haven't seen him in before.

"What got you so excited, little guy? We're just visiting the market nearby to buy some peaches... Maybe some plums as well. Actually, I'm craving for some corvig."

Bubba half-heartedly listened to you ramble while his eyes roams the market sharply, ears peeled and nose constantly sniffing the air. What you didn't know is that chibis will act like that-- excited and eyes darting from one place to another-- if it means your soulmate is nearby, their senses are tingling and they can feel their heart getting warmer the shorter the distance you are from your soulmate - also Bubba's too.

You stopped in the middle of the market, looking for the particular stall that sells peaches. Bubba is also looking around but for a different reason, absently clutching at his shirt where his supposedly heart is located.

"Why's there no fruit stalls around? Is it on the other side of the market?" You groaned, pulling out your phone. The people around you gave you looks, some with confusion but most of them are uneasiness, thinking you're somewhat scolding your chibi before going back to what they were doing, but now all of them had stepped/walked away from you.

It's not like you cared, the first thing on your mind right now is peaches and plums, also corvig.

You suddenly heard Bubba let out a noise, a squeak-like of grunt before scrambling off your shoulder and down to the pavement with ease. It took you a few seconds to comprehend what just happened before snapping out of it and sprinting towards where Bubba run off to.

Damn, didn't know chibis could run so fast.

"Bubba! Where are-- you." Your last word changed it's aim from Bubba to the man before you, staring back at you with the same surprised expression on his face. His hands are half stretched in front of him before dropping them down to his sides, straightening his back.

Your eyes swing down to the two chibis who are currently busy hugging each other, giggling as hearts and flowers practically floats around them. You watched as Bubba kissed the other chibi on the cheek before nuzzling his head on his shoulder, who squeaked in happiness before burying his face on his chest, obviously much more smaller that Bubba.

The chibi is... you - a chibi version of you exactly; dressed like you and almost looks exactly like you.

Gazing back up at the big version of Bubba or your soulmate, you cleared your throat and was about to step forward to introduce yourself when he suddenly took a step back, his left hand quickly moved to his back.

And then he growls.

You whole body steeled once you heard the sound left his lips and your hands are lifted up in a split second, enough to for him to notice but not enough draw any attention towards the both of you.

With him ready to pull out a weapon behind his back whilst glaring at you with ice-cold, guarded look in his eyes, and you with your hands up in surrender was all too familiar it makes you want to laugh and crack a joke.

"I thought soulmates were supposed to be soft and loving? I didn't know they would also want to stab you in the freaking face!"

Please tag me if you ever tried this Soulmate AU. I really want to read one 💕💕 I hope you enjoyed it. There's a part 2 but in Bucky's view of chibi!You suddenly popping up in his life like fairy god mother.

If there are misused words or wrong grammars, don't be shy to tell me!

#bucky barnes #bucky x male!reader #bucky barnes x male!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x male!reader fluff #bucky barnes x male!reader fluff #x male!reader #bucky x male!reader smut #bucky barnes x male!reader smut #bucky #avengers x reader #bucky x chubby!reader #bucky x reader smut #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #soulmate au #soulmate!bucky #chibi!bucky x reader #chibi!bucky #winter soldier #bucky barnes x chubby!reader #x chibi!reader #LB01