#yes make Navi think he’s a ram
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The Navigator: Don’t talk to me, my best friend, my daughter, my second daughter, a overpowered storyteller who I’m 95% sure is traumatized, and my third daughter who was also a puppet.
#alchemy stars#this is dumb#anyways I’ve been lucky#also Giles is op as shit#and I love his character#yes make Navi think he’s a ram
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I DID IT
I finished the Vox fic!
Media: Hazbin Hotel
Rating: E for Explicit
Word count: 9537
Pairing: Vox / Self-Insert (female) Character
Warnings: Referenced / Implied rape, general abuse.
Tags: Valentino being a piece of shit, canon-typical violence, flirty Vox, bisexual Vox, smut (duh), light angst towards the end
Where else to read: AO3; username: TheWeirdDane; title: Tonight I'm Saying Goodbye Valentino
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No one had ever proclaimed that Valentino was a gentle lover and a kind soul. Or, if they had, they had certainly never met him.
“Vox!”
Vox swivelled around in his swivelling chair. He knew that voice all too well, not to mention the tone of it. Valentino was pissed about something, and would no doubt make it Vox’s problem.
“Yes, Val?” he replied, careful to sound respectful and polite.
Not that Valentino showed him the same courtesy. No, instead, he sent a fist through the air and rammed it into Vox’s screen. Seemingly not caring for his own fist getting torn up by the shards, he only cared for hurting for a loudly groaning Vox.
“I thought I told you not to complete the transfer tonight!”
He had fallen out of his chair and now lay on the floor by Valentino’s feet. Lifting a hand to his cracked screen, he groaned in pain.
“Care to explain yourself, Voxy?”
He grit his sharp teeth. Clenched his hands into fists as he got up from the floor. Valentino was a good deal taller than him, but he was determined to look up into his partner’s eyes.
“I thought I would complete the transfer as soon as possible to give us more time to---”
“Don’t think, Vox, that’s my job. Your job is to do what I tell you to. Got it? Or do I need to make you understand?”
Vox was half a breath away from punching those stupid glasses off his face, but thought better of it at the last second. He quite enjoyed being alive, and hurting Valentino was a guaranteed one-way ticket to actual death.
“Got it, Val,” he therefore hissed through gritted teeth.
“Then clean yourself up. I don’t want to be seen with broken merchandise.”
“We’re alone,” Vox exclaimed before he could stop himself, and immediately upon speaking the words, he feared for his life. But Valentino simply stood there, as if waiting for more. “No one is seeing us here, Val!”
Valentino scoffed before turning on his heel.
“You better pray you’re right, Vox. Or I won’t be so forgiving next time.”
It took a few days for his screen to heal. A few days that he spent avoiding Valentino, lest he aggravate the pimp overlord further. However, when he still hadn’t seen Valentino after close to a week, he decided he had had enough.
Valentino was working late somewhere. Not that Vox really cared; Valentino didn’t care for his work, so why should he then care for him?
“Going out. Don’t wait up.”
He knew he didn’t owe Valentino a text, but through all their years together, he had been conditioned into notifying Valentino about every little thing, and as such, he didn’t dare not to text him. At the same time, however, he was scared of the consequences.
He never went out. As in, never. Feeling obligated to be at Valentino’s every beck and call, he felt like he couldn’t allow himself even one evening off.
But not anymore. Tonight, he was saying ‘goodbye, Valentino’!
As expected, Vox didn’t get a text back. He took that to mean that Valentino didn’t care for him tonight, and even though he was used to that, it still made a knot of anger rise into his chest.
Despite never going out, Vox had been eyeing a small bar on the corner of the street where he lived. It was one of the few bars that Valentino didn’t own, and as such, Vox felt safe going there. It was a fairly regular club. Not the kind where pretty girls dance in skimpy outfits for horny sinners, but instead there was live music. Somewhat old fashioned, it seemed perfect to soothe the ache in his soul. Whatever may be left of it.
Dressing in navy blue suit pants and a white turtleneck sweater under a navy blue suit jacket, he went out.
Lesser demons recognised him in the streets, and they all bowed or curtseyed, giving his ego a pleasant boost. His screen may still be suffering slightly from their last scuffle, but it was mostly healed by now. No one seemed to notice the more stubborn, minor cracks, for which he was grateful. As he made his way into the bar, he was formally greeted and shown to one of the front seats, which were reserved for only the most important demons. From here, he had a perfect, unspoiled view of the stage, where a band played soft jazz.
“May I take your order?”
He turned his head. The voice belonged to a short statured, somewhat chubby lesser demon. Her hair was flaming red, her eyes piercing blue. She wore glasses - purple frames - and a kind smile. She had black-and-white horns that curled around her ears.
Vox noted how she hadn’t addressed him by his title, nor by his name, as was customary for overlords. It surprised him; he thought everyone in Hell knew who he was. Seems he was mistaken.
Interesting.
He gave his order, and she scribbled it down on a notepad before bobbing her head in a polite nod, then took the order to the bar. His eyes followed her as she went. There was a spring to her steps, and she giggled at the bartender. Taking a tray into her hands, she walked around amongst the other patrons, until she ended up by his table again.
“And here’s your drink, sir,” she smiled. He didn’t immediately reply. He instead took the glass and swirled it slightly, the golden-brown liquid sloshing around lazily.
“Didn’t you forget something?” he asked, inwardly snickering at the way she instantly panicked. Her eyes widened, and she hugged the now empty tray close to her voluminous chest.
“I beg your pardon, sir?” she said, her voice a tad too high pitched.
“I believe it’s customary to address an overlord by their title,” he explained, speaking slowly and peering into his glass for a long moment before fixing his gaze on her face again. Recognition flashed in her eyes a fraction of a second before sheer terror overtook it. It wasn’t something he should delight in, but decades of working with Valentino seemed to, unfortunately, have rubbed off on him.
“Oh Satan, I’m so sorry, sir, I mean, Mr. Vox, sir,” she whispered, looking mortified. She hugged the metal tray so close to her chest that her knuckles turned white. Her face quickly turned beet-red.
He snickered.
“I-I’m new here. It’s my first day, and I don’t really know how this place works.”
“New to Hell, or new to this bar?” he asked, not quite understanding where the genuinity in this voice came from. He eyed her curiously, taking a small sip of his drink.
“Both,” she replied, a polite but clearly nervous smile on her face. “I arrived in Hell just two days ago, and, well, bills don’t pay themselves. One would think that capitalism was a special sort of hell reserved for the living.”
He let out a sharp, short laugh. That felt... oddly liberating.
“You would think so, wouldn’t you?”
Her nervousness seemed to dissipate a bit when he didn’t rip her a new breathing hole for not immediately knowing who he was.
“But no. Capitalism is a hellscape all on its own. Not reserved for humans, it would seem,” she giggled. The sound was warm and bubbly, and he couldn’t help but glance at her before looking towards the stage again.
“Enjoy your drink, Mr. Vox,” she said with a much more relaxed smile, “I’ll be right over by the bar, when you need a refill. I mean, if you need a refill, of course. I’m not saying you drink a lot or anything! I’m just saying that... uhm...”
She laughed nervously, and all air was knocked out of him.
“I think it’s better to go now before you say something you’ll really regret,” he hummed, swirling his drink while looking at her intently.
“Yes, Mr. Vox, of course.”
She curtseyed and immediately left, her ears about as red as her hair. He looked after her, a lopsided, curious grin on his screen.
Well, wasn’t she an interesting little thing?
He sipped his drink slowly, savouring the taste. It burnt as it trickled down his throat, the sharpness of it ripping into his nostrils. As he drank, it was like his gaze was drawn to her every few minutes. The waitress. He didn’t know her name... yet. There was nothing that dictated that he couldn’t come to know it.
But he had to be careful. He was an overlord; he couldn’t be seen mingling with the lesser demons. However... if Valentino could fuck - more like rape - the girls he employed, what was stopping Vox from enjoying a night with this particular woman?
Finishing his drink, he saw another server on his way to his table, and he bared his teeth, waving him away. The server immediately turned on his heel to serve another table. With a satisfied grin, Vox looked for the waitress. When he finally laid eyes on her, he saw that she was giggling with the bartender again. She even put a hand on her arm, however briefly. It made an unpleasant heaviness settle in his chest, and while he didn’t want to examine it further, he did know why.
Somehow, for some reason, he wanted to bring her home with him. It wasn’t like Valentino ever put out, anyway. Not unless he was in the mood, never caring for Vox’s advances or needs. Suffice to say, he had some itches that needed scratching, and he had a feeling that this particular demon wouldn’t be opposed. But if she was into women... that would be a problem.
Maybe she was into men and women, like himself?
He sighed.
Maybe, if he asked, he would actually know.
So, he got her attention and waved his empty glass. She immediately grabbed the tray, hopped down from the stool, and weaved her way through the crowd to get to him.
“Yes, Mr. Vox, what would you like?”
“Your phone number, please. Along with a refill. As you predicted,” he grinned.
At first, she looked stunned. Her eyes wide and her mouth slightly agape, she wasn’t far from a fish out of water.
“My...?” She trailed off.
“Your phone number,” he agreed. “And another drink. The same as before, if you please.”
She blinked rapidly, but then, a second later, it appeared that she got full control of the situation, turning the tables a full one-hundred-and-eighty degrees.
“I’m afraid the best I can do is my name and another whisky, Mr. Vox.”
He grinned widely. She reached for the glass.
“I’m all ears, miss...?”
“Miss Cassiopeia,” she hummed as she bent over to take his empty glass. Vox might not be the most well-versed in waitressing, but he knew that she didn’t need to bend down that far to retrieve it. It did, however, mean that he got a proper eyeful of her cleavage, and if anyone was happy about that, it was him, and his cock.
“Miss Cassiopeia,” he repeated, tasting her name. “A pleasure.”
“Pleasure’s all mine, Mr. Vox,” she practically purred, and once again, all air was knocked out of him.
When she didn’t move back to the bar, he quirked an eyebrow and smirked.
“My drink...?”
“Oh!” She blushed deeply. “Yes, of course, right away, sir.”
She put the glass on the tray and hurried back to the bar. He followed her with his eyes. When he saw that she was glancing back at him, he nodded politely. Even from all the way over here, he could practically feel the heat radiating off of her.
She came back just a moment later, with two glasses on her tray. He sent her a quizzical look.
“This one’s on the house,” she smiled and put one of the glasses on his table.
“And the other?”
“That’s just yours, sir.”
“And here I thought you were buying me a drink,” he said, feigning disappointment. She laughed heartily, and the smile appeared on his screen all by itself.
“Do I need to buy you a drink, Mr. Vox?”
“That all depends.”
She shot him a puzzled look.
“On?” she eventually asked when he didn’t elaborate.
“On whether or not you’re free tonight.”
“Well, no, obviously not.”
He managed to feel deflated for all of four seconds, before she continued.
“I’m working all night, and--- oh! Oh, you meant like...”
She blushed again, and now it was his turn to laugh heartily. He patted her hand without second thought as she moved to put the other glass on his table, but the touch seemed to startle her, because she immediately withdrew her hand. It happened fast enough that she spilled half the contents of the glass all over his pants.
Immediately, that same terrified expression that she had had upon him presenting himself was on her face again.
“Oh! Oh no, Mr. Vox, I’m so sorry,” she gasped, putting the tray down on his table and fetching a bunch of napkins from her apron’s front pocket. She began dabbing at the stains, and, try as he might, Vox couldn’t help but suddenly feel very warm. She was so close, frantically trying to clean out the whisky stains on his pants. He felt like he was paralyzed; he sat completely still, simply looked down at her as she scrubbed so desperately.
“I’m so, so sorry,” she whispered without making eye contact. “I didn’t mean to--- you startled me, sir, and I--- I mean, it’s not your fault, of course, I just--- I’m a bit clumsy, and---”
“Miss Cassiopeia,” he then said firmly, but gently, careful not to raise his voice, “it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. It’ll wash out, and if it doesn’t, I’ll just buy another pair.”
She finally looked up at him, and his heart ached slightly when he saw her eyes getting wet. Poor girl would probably get fired for this if management determined it was her fault.
“Don’t worry about it,” he insisted, softening his voice. “It happens. It’s just a pair of pants.”
“But they look expensive,” she whispered, looking mortified, and took his hand when he offered it to her to help her to her feet. Although he did like seeing her on her knees in front of him.
“Perks of being an overlord,” he smiled. “You can work off your mistake if you feel so bad about it,” he then added without thinking, or without really wanting to add that. With his tone of voice, plus the insinuation, it was clear as day what he had said between the lines.
Her already big eyes widened even further, and Vox was eternally grateful that he couldn’t blush, because he certainly would have if he could.
“That was a joke, Miss Cassiopeia. Please, don’t take that seriously. I don’t know why I said that.”
“Thank you,” she mumbled, and although she did look relieved, there was also a part of her that seemed... almost disappointed. He couldn’t tell if it was the sagging shoulders or the downcast gaze, but there were definitely signs.
Highly curious.
An awkward silence stretched out between them, before one of the bartenders screamed out her name.
Cassiopeia startled and quickly grabbed the tray.
“Again, I’m so sorry, Mr. Vox, sir,” she said hastily, returning to the bar. Once more, he followed her with his eyes, and frowned when the bartender looked to be giving her an earful. Cassiopeia nodded fervently, but it was clear that it wasn’t for fun. When she quickly glanced back at him, it was clear as day that she was on the verge of a breakdown.
Vox didn’t really know why he cared. It wasn’t like this woman was anything to him. They didn’t know each other. They were only barely on a first name basis. But something inside him twisted unpleasantly at seeing her being scolded so harshly. It was painfully familiar.
He got up from his chair and strode towards the bar.
“Is there a problem?” he asked the bartender, managing to keep his voice in check.
“Mr. Vox, sir, I deeply apologise about Cassiopeia’s clumsiness,” the female bartender said. He didn’t like her voice, at all. It was way too slick and ass-kissing. She did have some kick-ass ram-like horns though. “It’s her first shift on her own, but she’s clearly not fit for it. I can have her trained further, or even fired if you---”
“That won’t be necessary,” he interrupted. They both stared at him, Cassiopeia with fearful eyes and the bartender with surprised ones. “I overstepped her boundary. That’s hardly her fault.”
“But, with all due respect, Mr. Vox, you’re an overlord, and such behaviour isn’t acceptable when serving someone of your standing.”
“Do you want me to make a big deal out of this?” he asked coolly. “I can take it up with management, but what do you think they will say to you when they hear that you didn’t train young Miss Cassiopeia adequately?”
The bartender suddenly got very pale. She swallowed heavily. Vox could almost hear it, even over the soft jazz that was still playing. He leaned his arms on the counter of the bar, and a frisson of delight ran through him when she took a step back. Everybody here - well, maybe aside from Cassiopeia - knew that he was close with Valentino, and thus, they probably figured that he had the same violent, unpredictable tendencies. He didn’t, but she didn’t have to know that.
“I don’t think they would come for her, but rather for you,” he hummed. “But... I can save you that kind of trouble. I am, after all, an overlord. If I say it’s fine, it’s fine.”
“Y-Yes, of course, sir, Mr. Vox, sir, thank you,” she croaked.
“Good. Now, Miss Cassiopeia,” he said and turned to Cassiopeia, stretching out his hand, “will you do me the honour of sitting with me?”
She was pale, but seemed to liven up at his question. She took his hand, albeit hesitantly.
“Of... of course, Mr. Vox.”
He gently pulled her towards his table where they sat down.
“Whisky?” he offered and pushed the full glass towards her. “It’s on the house.”
She laughed nervously.
“Thank you, but I don’t drink on the job.”
He nodded slowly. He could understand that.
“A wise choice, but you’re not on duty any longer. You can have the rest of the night off. I’ll see to it that your pay isn’t docked.”
She stared at him, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He nudged the glass with an elbow.
“Unless you want a soft drink instead?”
“No! I mean... I mean, no, whisky is perfect, sir. Thank you.”
“Anytime,” he smiled, finding that his smile was painfully genuine.
She took the glass and a sip, and grimaced. Vox couldn’t help a soft chuckle.
“Phew, it packs quite a punch, doesn’t it?” she laughed.
“So, what’s your crime?” he eventually asked a few hours later. She was a few drinks in, but didn’t appear intoxicated whatsoever, quite like him.
She raised an eyebrow.
“You’re gonna have to be more specific,” she hummed, piquing his curiosity.
“What landed you in the lust circle of Hell?”
She shrugged and took a long swig of her glass of water.
“I was... promiscuous as a human. Worked in a whore house controlled by the mafia. Guess the big guy upstairs wasn’t happy about that.”
Vox snorted.
“What is he happy about, really?”
“Damn good question, Mr. Vox,” she chuckled. “Unconditional loyalty to your fellow humans, I guess? Redeeming qualities? Hell if I know.”
Vox chuckled and sipped his whisky, admiring her. She was awfully pretty, with her chubby cheeks and piercing blue eyes. Her long hair was collected in a high ponytail that she had slung over her shoulder. The tip of the ponytail tickled her cleavage, and although he tried not to be a pervert and a sinner, it was difficult not to look.
It had been a long time since he had been with a woman. The last many years had been spent with Valentino - a man - yet he was confident he knew what to do with a woman’s body. Obviously, a few main parts were very different, but on the other hand, many parts were the same.
He was busy mulling over how to ask her to go home with him, when she gently nudged his am. He looked at her, blinking a few times.
“They’re closing the bar,” she announced. “We have to go.”
Well, wasn’t that convenient timing!
“Would you mind terribly if I took you home?” he asked as they got up. He put down more than enough bills to pay for their drinks; he didn’t like being cheap.
She didn’t immediately answer, instead just stared up at him, mouth agape. He chuckled, gingerly taking her hand. It was so warm and small in his.
“No pressure, of course.”
“No, I would... I would like that, Mr. Vox.”
“Great. I don’t live too far away, it’s easy to walk.”
“Perfect,” she hummed.
Vox sent the bartender a cheerful smile before they exited the bar and walked towards his home. On the way, he slid an arm around her waist. Initially, she tensed, but it only took a fraction of a second for her to relax. Then she even leaned against him, wrapping her own arm around him.
They looked at each other. She was blushing and very warm, even through his turtleneck, and his heart was absolutely hammering. Good thing he wasn’t currently monitoring his heartbeat, lest he alert the entire block about his elevated heart rate.
Was there any way to misinterpret what was going to happen? He hoped not. But on the other hand, he hadn’t picked anyone up in decades. The rules for hooking up could have changed a million times! For all he knew, he could’ve been given off signals of ‘do you want to look at my stamps collection?’ all night. Which, in this case, wasn’t some twisted innuendo.
However, when they reached his apartment, and he opened the door to let them inside, she stayed close to him. Her hand stroked slowly up and down his back, and she only reluctantly pulled away when he turned around to close the door.
“Do you mind if I lock the door? You never know what kind of freaks live around here.”
“And here I thought you could afford to live in a respectable neighbourhood,” she chuckled. “Sure, go ahead. I also wouldn’t want to be interrupted.”
He raised an eyebrow, clicked the lock closed. Now, that was an interesting choice of words.
“What, exactly, would they interrupt us doing?” he asked in a low voice, and oh, her blushing was adorable!
“N-Nothing incriminating,” she quickly replied, looking up at him with wide eyes as he inched towards her. Eventually, he had her pressed back against the door, one hand on each side of her head. His breathing was uneven, but he tried to camouflage it with a hum.
“That doesn’t exactly answer my question, now does it?” he murmured, leaning closer, pressing his lithe body against her more plump frame. “That only makes me think you have something... naughty in mind.”
She choked out an embarrassed sound, averting her gaze, and he laughed good-naturedly.
“Which is exactly what I want as well,” he revealed before pushing off the door with one hand. “So, if I have mistakenly given off vibes of, I don’t know, stamp collections, then now’s the time to bolt.”
“But you locked the door.”
“Guess you’ll have to stay, then. Stamp collections and all.”
She laughed, pushing off the door as well, and suddenly, she was way too close. He could see the small clumps of mascara on her lashes through her glasses. He could see the pores in her skin.
“Good thing I’m into stamp collections, then,” she murmured, and he inhaled sharply.
Please be joking.
“I don’t... actually have a stamp collection,” he confessed, suddenly feeling incredibly warm.
She giggled and swatted his arm gently.
“I’m kidding, you silly! I’m not here for a stupid stamp collection. Not that there’s anything wrong with those, though, of course.”
He drew a deep sigh of relief. If he could sweat, he would’ve wiped his forehead. But her choice of words was, once more, very intriguing.
“Then what are you here for, Miss Cassiopeia?”
She swallowed heavily, the action practically audible.
“I thought that much was obvious, Mr. Vox,” she murmured, her voice wavering slightly, stroking a hand slowly up his arm until she reached his shoulder.
A surge of warm, crackling electricity went through him.
Oh fuck.
She slid her other hand down over his other arm, eventually reaching his hand, where she laced their fingers together.
Oh double fuck.
“Dance with me?” she asked quietly, looking up at him from under her lashes.
Now it was his turn to swallow hard.
“I... don’t dance,” he confessed, his voice a mess of sudden static.
“You could... start to.”
She was already starting to move rhythmically. Very slow, giving him all the time in the world to pull back if he didn’t want to do it. Strangely enough, however, he didn’t move away. Pulling him in the direction of his living room, which was quite spacious, she giggled softly.
“You can’t be a worse dance partner than my ex.”
“Are you willing to bet on that?” he chuckled, tentatively putting his hand on her waist. She shivered slightly, and blushed a beautiful, deep crimson.
“No reason to. I know I’d win.”
He laughed heartily, and it felt good. Liberating. He could laugh with her, and it felt natural. It wasn’t a forced chuckle between gritted teeth, but an actual, warm sound from deep in his stomach, bubbling out from his speakers.
They stood like that for a little while; simply swaying gently from side to side, standing close to one another.
Vox wasn’t used to this. Whenever he was... intimate with Valentino, it was hard and rough, almost violent sex. He had gotten so used to that kind of intimacy that this, what he was currently doing with Cassiopeia, felt alien. Good, absolutely, but alien.
“Do you... want me to put on some music?” he offered after a few minutes. The silence was eating him alive.
“If it’s not too much to ask.”
“I’m the one offering,” he chuckled, riffling through his many, many playlists before finding one fitting for the current scene. Soft jazz, not unlike the music they had been playing at the bar, started drifting from the speakers strewn around the living room.
Being a tech geek had its perks.
Cassiopeia hummed softly along to the music as she swayed her hips, taking a few steps to each side now and again. Vox didn’t know what to do, but he did his best to mimic her.
“And you say you don’t dance,” she giggled, looking up at him.
“Is this considered dancing, though?” he asked with a breathy laugh.
She snickered, and then did something so ballsy that Vox froze for a second; she untangled their fingers so that she could move both arms around his neck, pressing them close against each other. He inhaled sharply.
“I hope this is okay,” she whispered, leaning her cheek against his chest.
He didn’t have the breath to answer.
His hands hovered over her shoulders when she shoved herself against him, before sliding down over her body, eventually settling on her lower back. She exhaled shakily, and he couldn’t help but smile. Seems like he wasn’t the only one affected by this.
The music was soft and gentle. It almost felt like it enveloped them, caressing them tenderly as they moved through the living room at a wonderfully slow pace. Like a lover’s touch.
Vox was completely at a loss for words. Not that he thought this moment needed any words, but he would like to be verbally prepared, just in case she asked him a question or something. He wasn’t used to not having a good comeback, or a witty retort. It was scary, yet he found that... with her, it was okay. He felt safe in assuming she wouldn’t laugh at or mock him. Not unlike some others.
“You’re warm,” she mumbled, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“You’re warm,” she repeated.
It was true; he was incredibly warm. His server must be overheating.
“Maybe you should... undress,” she mumbled, rolling her lower lip between her teeth. He inhaled sharply.
Oh fuck.
“You know, if you want to see me naked, you only have to ask,” he chuckled, stroking her lower back through her dress. Her face went bright red.
“I-I didn’t mean--- that’s not---”
“But, I sense that you’re too innocent and nervous to be so forward,” he teased and pulled back. She put her hands on her face, laughing in embarrassment, but peaked between her fingers when the sound of him shrugging out of his suit jacket reached her ears.
It was so cute and endearing that he couldn't help but laugh as he neatly folded the jacket and placed it over the backrest of the couch.
“Do you think I should take this off as well?” he continued, tugging at the hem of his white turtleneck sweater.
She nodded.
“If you want to ventilate yourself the best, I think it would be the optimal solution.”
With a wide smile, he grabbed the hem and tugged. He struggled slightly with pulling it over his screen, but when he finally succeeded, Cassiopeia stood right in front of him. He jumped slightly.
“Well, hello there,” he chuckled, throwing the sweater over his jacket.
“Hello,” she said quietly, looking up at him. Her arms once more slithered around his neck, pulling them close against each other again. Surely, she would be able to feel his heart throbbing aggressively against its confines when they were this close, and surely, she would think it silly!
But if she did feel it, she said nothing. She instead came closer and closer with her face, until her lips pressed against the edge of his screen. He inhaled sharply and nearly choked on the influx of air. He stood completely still as she kissed the slim edge, barely even breathing. His eyes closed slightly, and subconsciously, he pushed against her lower back, trying to get her closer.
She snickered, but it sounded out of breath.
“Shut up,” he mumbled light-heartedly.
“Not saying anything,” she quipped back.
Well, he couldn’t deny that.
He focused on her lips; soft and warm and perfect, they pressed against every inch of the edge of his screen, until she had covered it all. It wasn’t often that he mourned the fact that he had no physical lips to kiss with, but now was one such time. He found himself longing to taste the sweat on her flesh, the skin of her lips. Longing to kiss her, to feel her heated skin against his own mouth.
But alas, it was part of his punishment, he reckoned.
Each touch of her lips sent a warm crackle through him, leaving him panting like a dog trying to ventilate itself.
“Still feeling too hot?” she asked quietly, and her hands started a slow, achingly slow, descent down his body. Sliding over his arms, they soon touched his abdomen and sides, but when they tentatively, almost hesitantly, began working the belt of his suit pants, he almost blacked out.
He nodded, managing to stay upright by holding on to her.
“Yeah,” he croaked. “Yeah, still feeling too hot.”
“You need some proper fans, then,” she murmured, pulling the belt from its hoops and folding it over his turtleneck on the couch. “Maybe some... more air, as well,” she continued huskily, popping the button and pulling down the zipper.
A shudder jerked his body.
“You’re being a tease, you know that, right?” he laughed softly, lifting a hand to the back of her head. Her hair was so incredibly soft. He carded his long, claw-like fingers through it, loving how the strands slithered between his fingers, much like sand.
“I’ve never teased a day in my life,” she claimed, an underlying laugh tugging her voice a pitch higher.
“That’s a bold lie if I ever heard one. You’re a natural at this.”
She giggled, but the sound faded when she reached a hand into his pants and took a hold of him. She gasped softly, whereas he groaned, trying to stifle the sound.
“Oh, it wasn’t just the alcohol that was packing.”
He barked out a nervous laugh and put a hand on his screen.
“Shut up, oh my goodness!”
“Not if complimenting your cock gets me this kind of reaction,” she giggled.
In his mind, he knew that her touches wouldn’t stop at her simply grabbing him through his underwear. Yet, somehow, he had completely thrown the next step out the window. So, when she began stroking him, he could have sworn he blacked out, even if it was just for a second.
“Fuck, Cassiopeia,” he grunted, gripping her hair tightly. She gasped sharply, and he was already letting go again, thinking he had hurt her, when she asked him to please, don’t let go. Quirking an eyebrow, he tryingly resumed the tight grip, and she made the prettiest, most adorable moan he had ever heard.
“How... how far do you want to go tonight? Maybe that’s a good thing to ask before we get too carried away.” Why was his voice so staticky already? She was barely touching him!
“As far as you want. I’m prepared to go all the way.”
Oh fuck. She was going to kill him with this, wasn’t she?
Up until now, he had been a hundred percent convinced that he was primarily into the rough, hardcore BDSM style sex. But, the more they bantered, the more they teased each other, the more he started re-considering that. Maybe he had just thought that because that was all that Valentino had ever shown him?
He needed to get that out. Before it became too obvious, and she would dip.
“I’m... not really good at tender sex,” he blurted out, stroking his claws through her hair once more.
She didn’t bolt. She didn’t look at him weird. On the contrary, she smiled gently, stroking his monitor with her free hand.
“It’s because of Valentino, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice soft.
His eyes widened.
“He doesn’t treat you right, Mr. Vox. I’ve seen your screen. You try to hide it, but I can see the cracks.”
He shouldn’t let her talk to him like that. How dare she! He was an overlord! She was a mere lesser demon! But… she was right, of course. It was because of him.
“Don’t worry,” she continued, retrieving her hand from his pants, “I’ll take good care of you.”
He knew she would. He trusted her, for some bizarre reason. He couldn’t trust anyone, but her… her, he felt like he could spill his soul to.
He let her drag him towards the couch where she made him sit down with a singular, gentle word. Swallowing hard, he looked up at her, his pants and underwear now down around his ankles. She smiled at him before straddling his lap. He groaned softly, automatically putting his hands on her thighs. They were shielded by a pair of tights, and he wished he could touch her skin. He didn’t feel like he could ask that of her, though. Not yet, at least
Her body weight on him felt positively heavenly. He leaned his head against the backrest of the couch, forcing his breath calm and even.
“You don’t have to hold back with me, Mr. Vox,” she whispered, and began rolling her hips down against him. Slowly, as if testing the waters. He inhaled sharply, his claws digging into her thighs, which subsequently made her moan and shudder.
She closed her eyes a sliver, and Vox could’ve sworn he had never seen a more beautiful and alluring demon. Was she, perhaps, an actual succubus? They were as dangerous as they were exceedingly rare, so what was the chance of him meeting one on his first proper night out? It was highly unlikely.
“Cassiopeia,” he groaned, unable to not buck his hips up against her. She gasped softly, then purred, looking down at him.
“Yes?” she asked huskily, stroking the sides of his screen and pressing herself flush against him.
“I wish I could kiss you.” It was true; everything within him yearned to kiss her, make her unravel in his arms.
She smiled and let her fingers dance over his monitor.
“It’s okay that you can’t,” she said, her voice soft and brimming with warmth. Slithering around him, her voice enveloped him in a tight and wonderful embrace. “You can make me feel good in other ways.”
Electricity surged through him, forcing a shudder to jerk his body. Oh that he could, indeed.
Retrieving his hands from her lower back, he put them on her breasts instead. She sighed contentedly, looking at him with half-lidded eyes.
He squeezed her breasts, looking intently at her, and moaned when she once more began rolling her hips against him. His cock bobbed, as if seeking to press itself up into her.
“Cassiopeia,” he groaned again, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples, and despite wearing - presumably - a bra under her dress, he could feel them harden.
“Please, call me Cassy,” she whispered. A slight tremor had taken up residency in her voice. She leaned in over him, her face hovering mere inches from his screen, her hands on the backrest of the couch.
“Is that what your friends call you?”
She smirked.
“Something like that.”
He chuckled, and decided that her clothes had to go. It would only be fair; he was stark naked, after all. Thus, he slid his hands under her dress and to her back where he fumbled with her bra. To her credit, she didn’t laugh at him or make a snide comment about his lack of skill or finesse. She simply looked at him, stroking his screen slowly with her thumbs.
When he finally wrestled her bra open, she slid the straps through the sleeves of her dress before pulling the bra off and dumping it on the couch cushion next to them. He glanced in its direction, noting its purple lace and red floral pattern, and looked back at her.
Despite being naked, he was still very warm. He definitely needed a new ventilation system.
Stroking her breasts under her dress, she mewled softly and craned her neck, leaning her head back. As she exposed her throat, Vox groaned deep in his chest, once more cursing his lack of lips. He loathed his inability to kiss her pale skin, to mark her so prettily.
“It’s okay, Mr. Vox,” she whispered, as if reading his mind. “It wouldn’t be very professional, anyway, to sport love bites at work. People would ask questions.”
“You can drop the title, for now.” Although he did like how it sounded, coming from her lips.
She shuddered, exhaling deeply, and then yelped when he pinched her nipples. Not too hard, of course, but enough to send a shiver through her.
“Now who’s the tease?” she giggled. He smirked.
“Not me.”
She rolled her eyes, but smiled warmly all the same.
“Yes, you.”
“No idea what you’re talking about,” he claimed, tugging at her nipples and relishing the sharp sound she made.
“F-Fuck, Vox,” she gasped, sliding her hands to his body where they grabbed tightly, her nails digging into his bony shoulders.
“Do you like that?”
“Fuck, yeah, I really do.”
Spurred on by her enthusiastic consent, he continued tugging and lightly twisting her nipples for a good while, every now and again squeezing her breasts instead. He made sure to commit every single second to his primary hard drive. Every sound she made, every way she squirmed, every glance she sent his way - it all went to his secret hard drive.
Having paid good attention to her upper body, he was practically desperate to move lower.
“Can I... touch you elsewhere?” he eventually asked quietly, stroking his thumbs soothingly over her perky nipples.
“Please,” she whined, her voice tight.
“Take off your tights, please.”
“So polite,” she said, breathlessly, and got off of him for long enough to roll her stockings down, revealing a pair of panties that matched her bra. It drove him insane, and if he could have drooled, he probably would have.
“Those, too, please.”
She smiled at him through her long lashes, and followed his wish. Putting her tights and panties on the couch, she finally sat back down on him, and he was eternally grateful that he wasn’t the only one who moaned at the intimate skin contact.
She could now slide her slick folds over his hard cock, and she didn’t waste any time in doing so. Promptly, he shuddered and dug his claws into her thighs, leaning his screen back against the couch. She mewled.
“Touch me,” she suddenly whined, and Vox immediately obeyed.
Pushing a hand between their bodies and between her legs, he was careful not to nick her sensitive flesh as he stroked her clit. The second his fingers made contact, she shuddered, squeezing her legs together.
“Vox,” she gasped, opening her legs again. He moved his other hand to her hip, caressing her, while continuing to stroke her clit.
“Is that good?” he croaked, feeling as if he could combust any second.
She nodded eagerly, grinding into his hand while also rubbing her folds over his cock. She was so incredibly wet, and despite his limited knowledge of female anatomy, he knew that was a good thing. A very good thing, even.
“I want you, Vox,” she then whispered, making his heart skip a beat or two. “I want you inside me.” Without wasting any more time, and without waiting for him to make a move, she lifted herself onto her knees, guided his cock to her entrance, and sank down onto him.
The second she engulfed him, Vox moaned throatily. His hand on her hip curled tightly, and he had to move his other hand to her other hip as well, to avoid injuring her private area.
“Cassy,” he gasped, his throat feeling tight and dry. Warmth surged through him, and a shudder made him thrust up into her, subsequently pulling a sharp moan from her lips.
“Vox! Give a girl a warning next time,” she giggled, but then moaned when he did it again, just to tease her. She felt... she felt... oh hell, there were no words, were there? She felt amazing, obviously, but she felt better than amazing. She was drenched, but tight around him, and combined with the warmth of her pussy, he was fairly certain that she had the ability to fry his hard drive, not to mention his servers.
“Fucking hell,” he groaned, relaxing his grip of her hips. His cock throbbed repeatedly inside her, and every jerk made a soft mewl escape her. Her eyes were halfway closed, her mouth agape.
“I’m going to move,” he said, fighting to get the words out in the correct order, and she nodded.
“Please do,” she whined.
His mind was reeling. How could a lesser demon feel so good? How could she make him feel better than he could remember ever having felt? Maybe it was the thrill of being with someone new, someone he likely wouldn’t see again. Maybe it was simply because what they were doing was so soft and tender.
Vox kept his promise and began thrusting up into her. Slowly, steadily. Each move, her cunt gripped him like a vice. Each move, his cock throbbed inside her. He could practically feel every inch of her insides pulsate and flutter around him, and it drove him to the edge of insanity.
She grabbed his shoulders tightly, whining needily for every thrust and looking at him through her lashes.
“Fuck, Vox, that feels so good,” she whimpered, clenching around him when he pulled back. As if she didn’t want him to pull back, although they both knew he was going to plunge into her again, and again, and again. There was no way he could stop now.
“It really does,” he agreed with a shaky grunt, squeezing her hips firmly and throwing his screen back in ecstasy when she mewled.
This was insane. How could anything feel this fantastic? It should be a sin! Which, well, it already kind of was...
Good thing he had never really cared about sins or their so-called consequences.
Cassiopeia leaned in over him once more, pressing her lips to his screen over and over again. Each kiss made him more and more aroused, until he couldn’t help but push hard up into her. He had wanted to take it easy, had wanted for this to be soft and tender, but with the pleasure forming tight knots in his stomach, it was getting increasingly difficult.
“You’ll make me come at this rate,” he whispered and laughed breathlessly, pressing her down against his lap while thrusting up into her. Each thrust pulled a sharp moan from her.
“Oh no, what a travesty,” she giggled and began kissing his neck. This made his heart skip a beat. He inhaled sharply, his hips pressing hard up against her. In response, she bit his neck, and he moaned loudly, automatically throwing his head back and thus exposing his throat even further. He was trembling something fierce, his heart beating aggressively.
She quickly pulled back, a deep blush adorning her face.
“I-I’m sorry, Vox, I didn’t mean to--- I doubt Valentino would appreciate you having love bites from someone else...”
“Let me worry about him,” he almost growled. “You just worry about feeling good.”
“That’s not hard,” she smiled, tentatively leaning in to kiss his neck again. He shuddered, and his thrusts became harsh. “Easy, Vox, easy,” she gasped, smoothing her hands over his chest. “We have all night.”
“I-I can’t stop,” he gasped, groaning deep in his chest when she began rolling her hips again, meeting each of his thrusts. Her hands on his chest, and his hands on her hips, they were so close to each other that it was hard to figure out where one started and ended. Her scent was all over him, enveloping and embracing him. It was intoxicating. An expensive perfume, no doubt, that only barely covered her natural aroma, which became more and more prominent as the minutes passed. He could smell her arousal so easily; warm and heavy and heady, it made his head spin.
“Do I feel good, Vox?” she whispered, stroking his nipples and collar bones.
“You feel amazing, Cassy,” he moaned. His orgasm was imminent and inevitable, but he didn’t want it to end already. While knowing that he had several rounds in him, he didn’t know about her. And if there was one thing he didn’t want, it was for this to end prematurely.
She smiled, a dazed, stupid smile that made his heart flutter. Butterflies flapped around in his stomach, and he wanted so desperately to blame it on the alcohol. After all, it had been a while since he had had this much to drink. However, he had a feeling he couldn’t write it off as inebriation.
She then had the audacity to ask a question that very nearly fried his servers and made him shut down.
“Do you think you can come for me?” How could she sound so innocent and soft when asking such a thing?
“Fuck,” he croaked - he couldn’t say much else - and closed his eyes, focusing solely on the way his stomach jumped and pleasure coursed through him. His hips stuttered for a few seconds before pushing ruthlessly up against her, making her gasp.
“Yes! Yes, Vox, that’s it, that’s it,” she cried out, wrapping her arms around his slim neck and pressing herself flush against him. “That’s it, don’t stop, oh fuck!”
Vox didn’t intend to stop. On the contrary. He kept drilling into her, his moans growing louder and louder, sharper and sharper, until he suddenly, without knowing what exactly had been the tipping point, knew that this was the point of no return.
“I’m going to come,” he growled, slamming up into her while at the same time pushing her down on him, eager - no, desperate - to get as deep as possible.
“Yes,” she whispered on a shaky exhale, “yes, come in me, Vox, please, I need it...”
Hearing her voice so tight and laced with wanton need, Vox couldn’t hold himself back.
He shuddered before tensing, his entire body going rigid, and he came in her with a loud, throaty groan.
“Cass--- Cassy,” he groaned as unbelievable, white-hot euphoria sloshed through his cords, making him see binary code that made no sense. His claws dug into her hips, no doubt leaving marks, and he felt light as a feather. He arched his back against her, and despite being so close to her, he couldn’t make out what she was saying. He heard her needy voice, but couldn’t string the words together into something coherent.
And then it was over. Far too quickly, the sensation of weighing the same as a feather was replaced with one of feeling like a slab of concrete dropped into the ocean. He sagged back against the couch, breathing hard and fast.
On top of him, Cassiopeia continued to grind against him, desperately seeking her own release. She was now leaning back, her hands on his thighs for support, rolling her hips desperately.
“Let me help you,” he slurred, reaching a trembling hand down between their bodies, and fondled her clit again. She mewled loudly, and her body went taut for a few seconds before going limp. A loud, high-pitched whine tumbled over her lips, increasing in volume the more he touched her. His other hand’s claws scratched over her thigh, and he watched her face intently as he did so, careful not to be too harsh and tear open her skin.
“Vox!” she suddenly cried out, and Vox knew that she, too, had passed the point of no return.
“I’m here,” he growled, stroking her clit a tad faster and harder. “I’m here, Cassy. Can you come for me?”
“No fucking doubt,” she whispered, and the corners of her lips twitched upwards in a light smile.
“Then do it,” he said, carefully digging his claws slightly into her thighs.
That seemed to be what she needed.
With a gasp, then a long string of something that could potentially have been his name, he felt her cunt clench tightly around him, before fluttering rapidly. She let out a loud whimper, and her body went stiff. Her eyes were closed tightly, but her mouth wide open.
“That’s it, Cassy, that’s it,” he praised, continuing to stroke her through her orgasm, “look at you, being so good for me.”
She sobbed out a sound he didn’t know how to interpret, and thus, he gradually slowed down his merciless stroking, until she grabbed his wrist, jerking his hand away.
“No... no more,” she whispered, out of breath and barely able to get the words over her lips. Yet, she was smiling, and her voice was light and airy.
“Okay,” he whispered, withdrawing his hand to put it on her hip instead. He caressed the flesh soothingly. “You did so well, Cassy.”
Cracking open one eye, she looked at him.
“You did all the work, Vox.”
“It was a pleasure,” he assured her, sending her a warm smile.
She smiled back before slumping against him.
“I could sleep right here, right now,” she proclaimed, already yawning.
He laughed softly, still trying to catch his breath.
“I do have a bed, you know. It’s big enough for the both of us.”
“Hmm, no. No bed. Only couch,” she giggled.
He shook his head with a chuckle.
“We’re going to the bed, whether you like it or not,” he said and gingerly pulled out of her. She whined, and he had to agree; it was so much better to warm his cock in her. But alas, it was necessary to detangle themselves to go to bed.
“Fine,” she whined and was about to get up, when Vox lifted her under the knees and her back. She hummed, nuzzling her face against his chest.
“You’re strong.”
“I’m an overlord, what did you expect?” he chuckled and carried her upstairs to his bedroom. Once inside, he carefully laid her down on the massive bed before snuggling up close to her. She moaned softly and offered no resistance when he pulled her back flush against his chest. She stroked his hand as it lay on her stomach, and sighed deeply.
“That was incredible,” she whispered after a moment of silence.
“Do you think we’re done?”
Another moment of silence, then an incredulous laugh.
“Can you seriously go again already?”
“Again, I’m an overlord. I’m not bound to the same restrictions as you peasants,” he snickered, sliding his hand from her warm stomach and down to her sticky cunt.
“Peasant. Wow, that’s rude,” she giggled, but hummed in pleasure when he began touching her again.
“Like you don’t want another round,” he teased, slowly stroking his fingers over her clit, and relishing the shiver that went through her.
“Easy, Vox, let a girl rest.” There was a teasing lilt to her voice, making him more relaxed about continuing. The more he touched her, the harder he got, until his cock pressed against her lower back, his heart beating incessantly and quickly.
“Rest is for the weak.”
“Well, then I’m the weakest peasant you’ll ever see,” she yawned, but nonetheless turned on her other side to look at him, touching his screen gently. She was smiling; something that made Vox very happy, for reasons he didn’t dare examine.
“Do you want it, though?” His voice was soft, genuine. “I don’t want to force you.”
“That’s very considerate of you, Vox. Yes, I do want it.”
His heart rate picked up as he moved on top of her. She looked at him with those big, gorgeous blue eyes, and suddenly, his throat was tight and dry all over again.
“Tell me if it hurts or anything,” he said quietly, guiding his cock to her entrance. She was still wet - or maybe again? - and as such, it was easy to slide inside her. She moaned softly, closing her eyes a sliver and grabbing the pillow under her head.
“Vox,” she whispered, and there was something in the way she murmured his name that made the breath hitch in his throat. It was so soft and delicate. Intimate in a way he had never heard it said before. It made him swallow heavily.
“Cassiopeia,” he whispered back, smiling when a full-body shudder went through her. She didn’t correct him, didn’t tell him to call her ‘Cassy’ again, and he appreciated that more than he had the words to articulate.
He grabbed her hands with both of his, lacing their fingers together. She moaned softly, closing her eyes fully.
Vox began pushing inside her, as deep as he could, until she made the smallest, softest whimper, and he met resistance. Then he pulled back, slowly, until just the head of his cock was inside her. The way her pussy clenched around him was delicious, and it took all of his self-control not to slam back inside immediately.
“Please, don’t tease me,” she murmured.
“I’ve never teased a day in my life,” he grinned, taking her words from earlier and using them against her, making her snicker.
“That’s a bold lie, Mr. Vox.”
“I’m nothing if not bold.”
“That you are,” she sighed, the sound turning into a pleased whine when he slowly pushed back inside her.
This time, there was no rush. Having gotten the worst craving out of his system, Vox actually managed to take it slow and easy, like they had initially agreed upon. It felt absolutely amazing, and he could’ve sworn that this kind, tender, gentle lovemaking rewired his system in real-time. The only thing he regretted was that he couldn’t kiss her. He wanted to so desperately, but it was impossible with his screen and lack of tongue, not to mention lack of lips.
“You’re amazing, Cassiopeia,” he said softly, rolling his hips gently.
“You are, too,” she whispered, looking up at him with such sincerity in her eyes that it stole his breath away. “I don’t... want tonight to end.”
He swallowed hard. That was the thing, though, wasn’t it? It would have to end at some point, and he would be forced to go back to Valentino and his abuse.
“Me neither,” he mumbled, a thick, sticky ball of emotions lodged in his throat, leaning his screen against her forehead. It was the closest thing to a kiss they could come.
It would have to suffice. For now.
#text#gif#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanfiction#vox hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel vox#valentino hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel valentino#my post#enjoy <3
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Rockman.EXE and Cyber Security.
When you are a Rockman/Megaman Battle Network fan and you take a college course about networking, you start to notice how broken the internet is in the anime. So just for fun, I want to talk about a few things I learn about network security and how it is interpreted in the Megaman Battle Network anime.
1. Firewalls
What are firewalls? In simple terms, it is a security barrier that is placed between a private network and the public network.
They are configured to monitor and filter networking traffic, hackers go through them by figuring out how they are programed, once they do they can either bypass the security undetected or simply disable the firewall.
Lets take a scene from the movie where Lan sends Megaman into a secretary’s console to destroy a program inside a company’s server.
Megaman is running through the network between the console and the firewall, which protects the private network of the company.
Logically, for Megaman to go through the firewall, he is going to need to use his powers as a Net Navigator (Net Navi) to analyze the firewall at an incredible speed to try to find a way to go through it, right?
WRONG! Battle Network logic says you can just break it with brute force!
You see the problem?
Does this mean Navis and battle chips are just as destructive to the net as viruses? Because last time I checked, Viruses and malware are the only programs with the ability to destroy networks.
2. Viruses
Viruses are man made, they are programed with a purpose that’s usually to destroy data files. They can also be used to change and manipulate programs, that’s why you can see evil Navis controlling viruses to do specific jobs for them. Viruses can’t replicate on their own without a user interface, so how is this Moloko a baby?!
There was an undubbed episode of Megaman Axess where Rush meets and befriends a baby Moloko virus, which doesn’t make any sense. Yes, Rush is a virus, and it has been established that viruses can communicate with each other, but why does this Moloko have parents? And why was the group of Molokos it separated from was being herded by other viruses like Trumpy? All I’ve seen Molokos do is charge at megaman when they see him, trying to ram him. Why would someone herd them? For the wool? It disappears after you hit it!
And what even is Rush’s purpose anyway? When he first appeared in the anime, he was made to track down Rockman’s frame or structure when they were trying to revive him with the backup data, but now?
All he does is being a crappy character who runs away when things get dangerous, doesn’t act like a dog anymore, and irritates me because he can move between the cyberworld and the real world! He is selfish, lacy, and practically useless, there are several times where Megaman goes missing and Rush is never even called to track him down, so he doesn’t even have that ability anymore.
On a positive note, viruses can be interesting, I found out that there are different types of viruses. For example.
A Stealth virus is a virus that avoids detection from anti virus software, this means it can conceal itself and attack without being spotted, sounds familiar? In this case the anti-virus software would also include Navis.
A retro virus tries to destroy anti-virus programs, I like to think these apply to viruses who specifically target Navis in battle like Canodumbs and Piranahs since they only attack when they detect an enemy in the line of fire.
Armored Viruses are hard to detect or analyze because they have a protective code, These could be Viruses with armors or auras like the Dominerd or even the life virus.
But Phage viruses remind me of these guys because they rewrite programs.
And I guess this one counts too?
Other viruses just act like malware, like the Alpha bug that is more of a worm than a virus, because it can replicate and travel across networks without any human assistance.
Others are obvious like the Pop up virus which is just Rush, and it is supposed to be adware, but just like Rush, it is more annoying than harmful.
In the anime, killereye viruses are used as spyware, there was an episode were Videoman used them to spy on Rockman and make copies of him.
3. Tracing a signal.
Basically, everything you do on the net leaves bread crumps or cookies behind that makes it easy to track a user online, every device have a Mac Address and every network has an IP address, but it takes a special kind of software and advance skills to track down somebody in the real world.
Let’s talk about episode 32 of Stream.
Remember that episode were Megaman followed a revived Shademan to 20 Years in the past and he witnessed a famous hacking incident that was stopped by Colonel?
Aside from the fact that it was 20 years in the past and Megaman is more advance than most of the technology there, there were a few things bothering me.
For starters, why does that computer show a little Colonel doing something to that guy’s hacking program? It’s cute and all, but this is a confusing way to show someone disabling a program, it usually just shows a notification. Or is that how the computer sees colonel, like a little pixel version of him? XD
That hacking program was made to open any cyber lock, it uses three special pillars to disguise the signal so the police wouldn’t be able to track down the address, this means those pillars have some special form of encryption to cover the data to make it untraceable. In the anime’s world, that means it’s invisible, but somehow Megaman can still sense it? And how did Barryl know where the guy was? Did colonel tell him? Or did the viruses he sent to delete colonel revealed his location? Oops.
4. Hard Drives.
To end this post, what are hard drives? They are what your computer uses to store files, so Navis can obviously be stored in a computer as well. The problem is that they are still sentient inside the computer instead of dormant.
The concept of containing a Navi, yes, Navis have their own jail in this universe, doesn’t really make any sense. We know Navis can sleep, but the Navis we see in cages are still active, and if everything is connected to the internet, how can they not escape?
I’m using this scene with Megaman as an example, when he was arrested for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, he was put in a cute little cyber cage.
However, since Megaman is more advance, he wonders if the hard drive of the computer he is stored in is weak against vibrations. What does he mean by that? Physical or cyber vibrations? Does that mean he can control a frequency in that computer’s cyberworld to alter it?
Whatever he did worked, because he left a gap in the cage, but how did he do it without damaging the Hard Drive? The police officer wouldn’t be able to access his files anymore, maybe it was minor file corruption?
And the worst part is that he opened a gateway into the internet, which is still there! I guess Megaman can travel through routers by himself? Maybe that wouldn’t have happen if the officer just disconnected his ethernet cable.
This Network based world is a scary one.
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Venus in fur blood in a cup
-Masked figures dance under colorful lights in the middle of the night.Laughing and pantin as the music chants,enchanting the marble ballroom.Of gold arches,pale pillars,eccentric mosaics and detailed carvings on stone.And this luxurious palace is filled to the brim with exquisite and expensively dressed guests.Draped in purple's,vibrant reds and deep blues.In furs and feathers,diamonds and pearls held by gold and silver chains and rings,and other colorful gems.The masks on their faces just as eccentric and bold,with patterns and gold. Statues of beautiful nymphs and ram headed gods stand witness to the sinful indulgence of material goods and wine,of the richest.
-As conversation flows with the melody of violins,the high pitch of a lone glass clanking is heard,and all gossip dies down for a minute.
-An tall and wrinkled, pale old man in a dark and cream gown,bearing a boar mask.Raises a fancy glass of champagne and announces:
-"Allow me to make a toast,let us all raise a glass to our brave and fearless count Lucio!Let us-"
-"Thank you,thank you."
-Count Lucio spoke in an certain and knowing,condescending tone.
-"Celebrating rights and riches-"
-"All thanks to my tireless efforts."
-Once again Lucio cuts off the man,declaring praise,demanding glory.
-"For his thoughtful-"
-"Of course,"
-"Kind-"
-"Indeed,"
-"Generous-"
-"Undoughtedly,"
-"Majesty has allowed us to gather in this extravagant event in these trying ti-"
-Lucio steps up and raises his own glass,as his courtiers gather behind him,with Nadia at his side.A step behind.
-"Friends and allies no need to think about death in this lovely evening!The red death is a poor man's problem!"
-The audience laughed as he overtook the man's toast.
-"Death does not lurk on these rooms and halls,only the finest entertainment and the biggest piles of gold.So indulge in wine and the plague will pass by!"
-The guests whistle at him as he laughs,clapping.Grabbing the nearest bottle of red wine and pours it in half full cups till they spilled on the tiled floor.-Nadia steps back as the wines spills so it doesn't stain her dress.She silently sneers with disgust at the display in front of her.But utters not even half a word of her disdain.Instead carefully walking up to Lucio as he passes through arms.
-"I will be returning to my chambers."
-"Aww Nadi,so soon?"
-He whines like a petulant child and her expression darkens slightly and her patients thins.Manifasting in a furrowed brow,which Lucio was to blind to see.
-"...Yes,I am afraid I had to many golden geese."
-She sighs quietly and is lead back to her wing by her servant,the only part of the palace guests were not prohibited.-"Portia I seem to have another headache,I request your care for however long it may take to pass it."
-"Yes m'lady."
-And so the night goes on and Lucio decides to greet his guests,as the incredible host that he was.It was only natural.
-He begins at the palace entrance.The night sky was a deep rich navy as the stars shone pale and the moon glowed blue of hue.Teal flowers decorated the heavy pale steel gate,to the open blue iron doors that welcomed guests in carriages as rich as the morning sky.Most new additions to royal lines and noble family little children running around horses,as their butlers and maids raced to get ahold of them.As they dashed for the blue doors.
-Next he ventured through the pale violate halls,with high ceilings and carved lilac arches.All covered in purple curtains and lavender table silk.As none truly stayed to admire said walls and works,to busy trying to enter the funrooms.
-As the masses moved so he strode to the springful green bubble enclosure.Fun rooms,bright rooms with curious and wonky machines,with giant tanks of colorful distilled water tainted by soap,oil and magic. There youth laughed and danced on the grass,sang by fountains and playfully floated on the magical bubbles that took them higher to the glass ceiling,and safely brought the joyful young back to their feet. As he weaved through the crowd,he stopped.
-There in the many fountains stood,bathing.A young woman.The violet silk and sheer dress clunk to her form,which was that of a figure of a godess.Her pale skin sheened under the water.Her feet were small and her hair long enough to reach her fingers.She didn't seem to be of a noble line for her hair and dress were too simple,and she bore no mask.An entertainer.
-Lucio stared at the beauty,forgetting his honourable duty as she bathed in the fountain.Slowly she turned to see a strange man in a mask staring at her,and she smiles. Lucio's lip curled into a grin.
-'Nadi isn't here,so why not have some fun with a little nymph?'-He thought to himself smirking as he approached.
-"My,my I knew the palace would be decorated with the most exotic and rare flowers,most put in places that would have withered if it wasn't for my hand,like lotuses on balconies.But I wouldn't have known I had a wild aster growing in my fountain."
-The girl giggled at his remark as she swam to the edge of the fountain were Lucio sat.
-"Oh?And who may you be,charmer?"-she teases.
-He laughs at her comeback,already liking her witts.
-"Why the man that puted the flowers in the palace,ofcourse!"
-Lucio proudly declares,only for his pride to shatter when the girl turned up her nose at him. Baffled he tilted his head in a questioning look,as cold bead of sweat fell off his face and lips pursed.She gave him a side eye only to sigh as if exasperated and said with a slight whine:
-"What's the point of all these beautiful flowers embedded in silk and gold,if they'll whither before morning?"
-Lucio gave a wobbly smile,a bit bewilder at such a question.
-"Wel-l if you want to see real flowers,why don't you come with me!?I have a rare flower so rare,pirates and merchants have come to me for it alike!"
-The girl percked up at such a mention.
-"Is that so?"
-She says in a low voice inching towards Lucio.He laughs and extends an arm to her.
-"Why don't you come to see for yourself?My chamber is not far."
-She giggles at his antics and hops out of the fountain and walks with Lucio,arm in arm.
-"My name is Hesperus,Count Lucio."
-And Lucio smiled to himself,ofcourse she knew him.She was just playing hard to get.
-Passing a golden arch that led outside,were it was dawning.They came before a pool area surrounded by maple and lemon trees.The pools themselves were laid in a rich color that made the water run as if it was liquid gold.The intricate terracotta paths that led to them had orange gradient that faded from hue to hue.Yet despite the young rays of the sun,it was not warm.For the wind billowed, an autumn breeze.The maiden shivered by Lucio's side and so he took it as a sign to act chivalrous,in hopes that they would walk faster to his chamber.So,he landed her his pale fur coat.
-"We don't want you catching a cold,do we little nymph~?"
-He purred and she snuggled her face deep within his coat blushing,-"There are people who are bleeding out of their eyes and guts!"
-She says in a short weird laugh that Lucio ignores to preoccupied thinking how'd she smell on his coat.-Soon they enter the great white ballroom. With a checkered marble floor,tall pale pillars that reached into the heavens and a high glass ceiling,so high it could show you welkin.And all covered in symmetrical details. The oldest and richest gathered here,eldest. Kings,dukes and barons of conquerors and colonizers.Sipping champagne and white wine in fancy tall glasses.Though their cups seemed almost finished.A sip away from an empty glass.The girl seemed awfully giddy as they passed through wrinkled guests.
-Lucio getting jealous as she stared at kings.
-Finally,they entered the deserted violate corridor that lead to his chamber.It was quite and the nymphtte seemed to take slower steps making Lucio wait.And as more and more time past,his confident facade started breaking as his nerves got to him.It was awkward yet the young woman seemed perfectly calm,taking steady steps.
-"Do you feel the pressure as we walk and the hall stretches.Is there a pit in your stomach that tightens,with fear."
-She stares at him unblinkingly,with a wide smile.He laughs nervously but doesn't look her in the eye.
-"E-eager,ey?"-he tries to say smoothly only to quickly shut up as they continue to walk not even halfway through the damned long corridor.But the girl never looked away from his face.Her grin getting wider and wider.
-And so,they finally reach at the steps of Lucio's chamber.
-All black,black walls,black wood,black velvet,black curtains.
-He led her to his bed.Laying her on her back delicately.And sheds some of his clothes.Climbing on top of her,he ripped up her dress revealing her soft mounds.He took her legs on his shoulder and when he was about to-
-"You may make love to me,but you may not kiss me."
-Lucio's patients ran thin at her antics.
-"I DO WHAT I WANT!"
-He slams his lips to her and immediately pulls back coughing.His throat tightening,it was as if his chest was about to burst.Lucio was gasping for air that wouldn't fill his lungs.Blood filled his eyes and blood dripped from his nose.And finally he hunched over putting his hands on the bed board as he vomited blood on the maidens chest.Vomit after vomit the blood never ended.But the girl didn't even flinched as he bleed his guts.
-"What did-d you do TO ME YOU WRENCH-"
-He couldn't even finish his sentence as more blood spilled from his lips.The woman laughs as she slithered out of the velvet bed.
-"My name is Phosphorus.And you my dear Lucio led death to your door."
-She goes up to the window.Pulling back the curtains.The view from it overseed Vesuvia. Shone by sunlight.
-"Look at the surviving in their own homes for they have nothing and fear all.You have all and fear as if you have nothing to lose.My dear death does not discriminate."
-"Wh-hat ar-e you-u?"
-"I am Venus,the Morningstar you will not see."
-And so every and all party guests fell,their guts filling with blood and eyes shot red.The blood they bleed was just the blood they owed.
-The plague claimed all.Except for the countess and her maid.
#writing#fiction#fanfic#the arcana#the arcane game#the arcana lucio#the arcana fanfic#anonymous writes#anonymous#lucio the arcana#tw death#tw sickness#tw blood#tw suggestive
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Magnum PI - 3.09 - The Big Payback (the real review)
Higgy in danger and her boys doing everything to save her - check
Magnum basically going “let her go and you can do whatever you want to me” - check
Miggy hug - check (OMG!!! It only took 49 episodes!!)
Rick getting a girlfriend - check
Angst-y Magnum about doing the right thing years ago because it got Higgy in trouble(!!!) - check
Juliet deciding to just squeeze in between Rick and Thomas even when there wasn’t really a place for here there...because of reasons - check
Adorable Miggy early days flash back - check
Gordon being all ’I might be a cop but I’m gonna be here for my BFFs’ - check
It’s like someone grabbed a bunch of my favorite tropes and just made a salad with them (or an ice cream sundae, because I hate salad). I legit just want to re-watch it ten times today (but I can’t because I have so much to do *grrr*.)
I mean we get this
I’m not sure what to say because I just keep getting stuck watching the gifs for this over and over. Like come on, how can you be so adorable?
Still, I’m going to try to have some coherent thoughts.
So yes, obviously I enjoyed this episode. Even though it l def. lacked Miggy working together and bantering and being their normal adorable selves I can handle that when we get gems like Magnum just basically going ‘okay shoot me as long as she goes free’ and Miggy hug and Juliet being all “that night in the wind cellar was the moment I knew you were a good person who truly wanted to help people” at the end.
I’m not sure how I feel about the fact that Magnum and co. actually broke the guy out/ extracted him, though.
Like they did it with as little damage and blanks in their weapons but still....
Part of me LOVES that they were getting their Higgy back, come hell or high water but ramming police cars and using automatic weapons is kinda different from their normal rule breaking. Like maybe there should have been one more “are we really doing this?” from Rick or TC with Magnum being all. “I can’t lose her. I know it’s not right and I can’t ask you to-” “You don’t have to. We got you.”
Or more of an attempt to find Higgy? Like they go to the guy’s house and he has a camera, threatens Higgy and because the time is almost up they don’t do anything more about finding her. But what if they’d actually hedged their bets and told Gordon they’d manged to find a lead (but not how) and asked him to look into it more? IDK, I guess they were scared.
Also during on of the phone calls I would really have liked a “I need to talk to her” proof of life sort of thing because at this point they’re just doing the whole thing and hoping Higgy is alive. The guy could have just killed her, planing to kill Magnum during the exchange, right? Right???
Also, why not just shoot both Higgy and Magnum at the exchange? That would have made sure neither one of them followed. I mean if I was the bad guy, that’s what I’d do. Or I’d shoot one of them in the stomach/leg to force the other to focus all their energy on saving them. It worked great in the premier so I really think if I was a bad guy, that’s the way I’d go! #evilgenius #missedmycalling
I mean, I love that we got Magnum being all sacrificial, putting his gun down, and telling her “it’s gonna be alright” when they took him (I need gifs of that, pretty please! and her looking after him! My babies! )
But if we’re being honest, Higgy was right... not smart Thomas!
Probably I if I was a bad guy (but not that bad) I’d just leave them both there alive with a broken down car. Like come on, Magnum had already told the Dad he knew he killed his ex-wife and thus the dad should not have wanted him along if he was worried he’d tell his son about it, right?
So if they really wanted a hostage, keep Juliet. She’s smaller and not a Navy SEAL! Even if she’s clearly resourceful (unsure how easy it would be to get info on her past as an MI6 agent, but not very I think, so they wouldn’t know just how good) she should seem like the better hostage of the two.
Whatever, it gave us Miggy hug so I don’t even care if it don’t fully make 100% from the bad guy’s POV! I just love it anyway!
Side note - Juliet has her OWN horse????? I mean we knew she rode but...
Do you all know freaking expensive horses are to keep? And like how little they bring to the table? Like seriously, Higgy, sell that gorgeous beast, be sad and stop having money problems. I’m telling you, horse vs. huge estate - horse is more expensive (okay no, it’s probably not I’m still kinda surprise there is a stable and an actual horse belonging to Robin’s Nest. I’m assuming the horse is Robin’s and like the cars she’s trying to keep everything without selling it but goodness, a horse? Rich people are so weird. It’s a very cute horse though...)
Next note.
I really like that we’re getting Suzy + Rick. Legit, it was on my season 3 wish list (for Rick to date a girl working at his bar!) I wonder if Higgy getting kidnapped was on there too? I should see if I can find it!
BUT...maybe they should have had one or two episodes more of them just being adorkable at the bar in the background before this. Mostly because I’m not sure this episode felt like the most fitting one.
We got Rick going “I’m nervous to ask a girl out” while Magnum is all “My soulmate (who is currently dating a rich kinda- handsome doctor) has been kidnapped and will be killed unless we break a guy out of prison in 4 hours.”
Stakes don’t quite match somehow.
But it’s nice, getting another female character that might be semi-reoccurring! She and Rick (Zachary) are married in real life (?) hopefully she will be around a lot!
I also loved the whole:
Suzy: “What are we celebrating?”
Juliet (having been kidnapped and then watching Magnum get taken, legit happy no one is dead...except the bad guys):“How about being alive?”
Suzy: “As good as any reason!”
Over all I really don’t know what to say, other than this episode makes me question if I even need to keep writing fan fics. The show runners seem to be itching to steal my captain’s hat and sail my ship for me! And honestly, if we keep getting what we’ve been getting in season 3, I’ll be happy to let them!
Cheers!
Also happy birthday to Jay today!
#Magnum PI#magnum pi review#Magnum PI 3.09#miggy#the hug#finally#magnum x higgins#magnum pi season 3#My babies finally got that hug
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pirate king (45) || atz
The stunned silence brought on by the ludicrous request is broken by Commander Kang actually adding on to that preposterous behest. Even in your own stupefied daze, you somehow manage to hear the next words that leave the commander’s mouth.
“I also want my son, Kang Yeosang.”
Every thought flees your mind all at once, leaving only a barren mental landscape behind, a mere deserted wasteland. Time seems to slow down for you, air turning liquid as the words drift over to you gently like a fallen leaf swirling and eddying on the surface of a still lake. A moment of eerie calm is all you get, before the actual meaning of the words, with all the force of a sledgehammer, smash into you harder than a battering ram.
You’re terrified.
Numb, predatory fear prowls into your mind, nestling and rooting itself there before you can finally register its presence. It’s tormenting you, torturing you. Your base instinct screams at you to flee as fast as you can possibly run before this man can get his hands on you, but your legs are frozen to the deck. You can’t even scream if you wanted to, let alone run, and even if you could, where would you run to?
Your mind is pulled and twisted by fear and anxiety in all directions, but as much as you hate to admit it, doubt wells up in you.
Yes, you know that the crew think of you as one of their own. Yes, you think that they truly do care about you and that they would, under some of the harshest circumstances, never sacrifice you for their own interests.
But in response to this deal? The reward is too enticing, as alluring as fresh nectar to a honey bee. How do you even refuse an offer like this? Hell, you’re tempted to take the deal yourself, even if it means sacrificing yourself in the process. One crew member of the ship for the safety and security of the entire crew? When will you ever get another offer like that?
However noble you may want your intentions to be, though, you know that you’re selfish.
Because deep in you, you’re desperately wishing that your captain turns it down.
No matter how selfish that makes you, no matter what your crew has to give up, part of you is terrified of dying. It’s more than a mere survival instinct, more of a deep seated desire rooting in you. You can’t die, not now, not when you’re nowhere near the end of your journey-
At your own trail of thought, something claws at your heart, so painfully you actually feel it in your body. Shocked panic runs through you at the words that have just passed through your mind, because when you try to figure out exactly what they mean, the pain in your head grows more and more, from a mere throbbing to an agonising pounding of your mind.
Journey?
But before you can think your brain into a catatonic state, your captain speaks up, his voice trembling with fury, knuckles white around the handle of his cutlass as if he can’t wait to slice the man before him into a million tiny pieces. Even if it’s not aimed at you, the incensed, red hot rage is all too clear in his words, sending a shiver down your spine as your survival instinct screams at you to bolt.
“What. Do. You. Want. With. Them.”
Every syllable is shaking with vengeful fury, as if he can’t wait to rain hell’s wrath upon the Commander, but Kang Yongsun merely stands his ground calmly, eyeing the captain with a cool, collected gaze.
“I want my son back with me for personal reasons-” He begins, but San finally snaps, lunging forward furiously before Jongho catches him by the arm, yanking him back even though you can see from the battlemaster’s furious expression, he wants nothing more than to bludgeon the man before him to a bloody pulp as well.
“How dare you call him your son that after you were the one who abandoned him in the first place?” San screams, writhing against Jongho’s grip, his usually calm demeanour completely shattered into smithereens. For such a lithe man, your master is surprisingly strong, nearly wriggling out of Jongho’s hold before the young battlemaster catches him once again. “You f*cking destroyed him when you betrayed him like that! You’re a heartless liar!”
You too, can feel anger rising up in you even through your numb shock. From the little you had glimpsed of Yeosang’s memories, the navigator had truly looked up to his father, loved him dearly though he’d gone years without seeing his face, idolised him, even. When he had been given over to the Pirate King as the object of a deal, you had felt everything within him shatter like glass.
Yeosang had truly almost been destroyed beyond repair.
“It is not my problem that Yeosang was foolish and believed that I loved him.” His father states dispassionately, as if he doesn’t care the least about his only son. Horror and disbelief runs through you as you stare at the man. How can any human being be so… inhumane? “I never told him I loved him, so I’ve never lied to him in the least.”
Your heart drops in your chest. This man…
“Let me go, Jongho, let me kill that bastard! He thought you loved him!” San continues howling in rage, thrashing against the younger battlemaster. You’ve never seen your master in such an uncontrolled manner, and he’s not even drunk. “Yeosang almost starved himself to death the first few months he was on the ship because of this shithole, I’m going to kill him-”
“Mingi, bring San to my cabin and help me keep him there for now.” Your captain says coldly, obviously noting that Mingi’s barely restraining himself from swinging that huge axe and chopping Commander Kang right in half, seething with white knuckled fury. The quartermaster, clearly knowing that he’s going to do something reckless if he stays here any longer, merely grabs San around the middle and hoists him into the air, carrying him away from the main deck to the captain’s cabin, San screaming and swearing the whole way.
“And don’t you dare touch my apprentice! I’ll hunt you down to the ends of the earth and destroy you, you asshole-”
The cabin door slams shut, effectively cutting off the sounds of your master’s fury.
Then your captain turns back to the commander, who looks completely unruffled by San’s accusations and screams. For a moment, you’re actually terrified at how stony this man’s face is. His facade is as cold as ice, to the point it almost unnerves you. It’s nothing like the silent calm Yeosang possesses, but he instead has a far more menacing, emotionless demeanour, as if he’s more golem than you are.
You imagine yourself like that, briefly, for a moment. A body of clay, with silent, unblinking, dispassionate eyes. More soulless than any human being around you.
The mere thought of it scares you.
“And what do you want with Chin Hae?” Your captain then adds on with gritted teeth, barely managing to cling on to his own facade of calm. At the sound of your name, your hands start to shake from fear, but then Yunho takes your hand in his, gripping it tight.
You turn slowly to look at him, knowing that you probably look like the day you had first met, terrified of the death that was ever so imminent in that alley back in Raguza, except this time your fate lies not in your hands, but your captain’s.
Yunho meets your eyes with a nervous, uneasy gaze, but when he speaks, his voice is full of surety.
“Hongjoong-hyung would never give you or Yeosang up, no matter the price.”
And you believe him. Your captain had already endured so much for you and the crew, if not him, who else could you possibly trust with your life? His actions spoke louder than words, with his body he had already shown you his dedication to his crew back in Nassau. With the determination he had plunged straight into the sea witch’s den, you knew he was willing to give up so much for you.
Yes. Your captain would not accept this deal. You believe that, at the very least.
“I cannot answer.” Commander Kang answers calmly, but from his words alone you can tell he’s not lying in the least. “My superior officer has ordered for it, so I obey his orders without question.”
“Like a obedient dog cowed into mindless submission.” Jongho snarls mockingly, grounding the end of his mace against the deck. But Kang Yongsun doesn’t react to the sneer at all, instead nodding in agreement with the statement.
“I do my job as required of me.” He replies, his voice completely devoid of emotion, before turning back to look at your seething captain, his one eye now a bright, venomous green. “But even if you do not give the woman Chin Hae up to the Royal Navy in a deal, we will still be forced to hunt her down anyway. She has a bounty on her head as well.”
At that, Hongjoong actually flinches in shock. You yourself are confused, why would you of all people be targeted specifically by the Royal Navy? In comparison to all the other members of the crew, you’ve not committed as many crimes as they have, so why you?
“How much is it? The bounty.” Your captain demands tonelessly, and Commander Kang opens his mouth to answer.
And with his next words, you feel your mind melt into a puddle of incomprehension.
“One thousand gold pieces.”
You nearly spit blood in shock, and from the way Yunho’s body goes entire rigid, he’s just as stunned as you. One thousand gold pieces, you imagine blearily, as if you can’t think straight anymore. You must be going crazy.
It can’t be possible. You’d heard from Yunho that the bounty on the captain himself is five hundred gold pieces, wanted alive by the Crown. How can your bounty be twice the price of your captain’s?
That’s it. You’re either dreaming, drunk, going deaf or crazy, because you can’t be hearing any of this. None of it makes sense.
Commander Kang continues calmly, as if he hasn’t just dropped the biggest bombshell of the century on every person on board this ship simultaneously. “And our orders are to take her back alive, so you needn’t worry about her being killed in our hands-”
Hongjoong lunges with his cutlass faster than your eye can see.
There’s a clang of steel against steel as Commander Kang raises his blade just in the nick of time to save himself from being split from head to toe by the edge of your captain’s sword. Even for a man well past his prime, the Commander must obviously still be fighting fit, because his arms only tremble slightly when he holds his sword steady against your captain’s overhead slash.
They stand there for a moment, locked in some sort of stalemate, before the two of them pull apart, swords levelled at each other.
You realise that this is the first time you’ve seen your captain in action. Not the playful mock duels that he, Yunho and Jongho have on deck with the crew cheering them from the sides, betting on who would win, but an actual fight in which your captain’s eye is completely cold and calculating, reading his opponent’s every move, predicting every strike. Adrenaline floods your veins from the sheer tension in the air, but you’re frozen with numb shock.
Nobody moves as the two captains exchanged dark looks, charged to the brim with unspoken meaning.
“I should kill you where you stand.” Hongjoong hisses, lips bared in a snarl. But Commander Kang simply smiles through gritted teeth, keeping his blade at the ready for another surprise strike from your captain.
“But I’m the only one who knows why the Royal Navy wants the woman.”
You don’t think you’ve ever seen your captain so incensed.
“Her name. Is. Chin. Hae.”
Whirling around, Hongjoong lunges forward with a flick of his wrist, the cutlass darting out like a snake’s tongue, ready to cut at least some part of his opponent’s sword arm off, but then the hooded man from the side slides between your captain and the commander in the blink of an eye, the longsword in his hands stopping the cutlass dead in its tracks.
The hood falls from the man’s head, revealing soft brown curls, soft, sweet features and a gentle nose, deep brown eyes that seem all too familiar to you even though you’ve never seen the man before in your life.
Why are they so familiar?
Because you’ve seen them on someone else before.
There are three rings braided in his hair, brushing his temple lightly.
Next to you, Yunho freezes, eyes going wide as if he’s seen a ghost. The spear actually goes clattering from his trembling hands to the deck, the sound unnaturally loud in your ears, his face turning white as a sheet as he manages to utter just a single word in disbelief, barely above a whisper.
“Gunho?”
On a ship somewhere in the middle of an ocean, a man sits silently in the cabin with his eyes closed.
He’s so still he might just be a statue, completely motionless. If it weren’t for the slight rise and fall of his chest, he could have been mistaken for a dead body. A minute passes, then two, the water clock in the corner making soft noises as it keeps track of the time.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Suddenly, the man’s eyes slide open, a sinister smile curling on his lips as he breathes in deeply, resting his chin on his fingers, the picture of calm and composure. However, his eyes dance with a terrifying, maniacal light, his deep blue eyes glowing ever so slightly in the dim room with some sort of unearthly gleam.
“The prophecy is finally coming to pass.” He sighs in pleasure, the dangerous purr of his voice like silk dragged across skin. “I knew you would do me proud... my son.”
There’s a knock on the door and he rises to his feet, stepping across the room. Soon, he will be free of all of this, he deserves more, so much more, he’s going to be the one with dominion over the-
“Captain! We’ve caught its trail!”
Twisted, depraved glee rises in him as his fingers dance on the hilt of the silver knife at his side excitedly. He pushes the door of the cabin opening, the sun’s rays crushed under his feet as he steps forward to the main deck, watching the sea of blue all about him.
He drags his tongue against the blade, a deranged grin on his lips as he seeks out his next prey. The sirens are easy targets, but they don’t yield nearly enough.
“Let’s go kill the hafgufa.”
#ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez fanfiction#hongjoong#seonghwa#yunho#yeosang#san#mingi#wooyoung#jongho#w; ot8#w; fanfiction#w; pirate king#ateez pirate king
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- Sticky Situation -
💗 Kinktober Day 1 - Mutual Masterbation 💗
Keiji Akaashi x Fem! Reader (Smut)
Word count: 2k
Summary: Your boyfriend Akaashi has been working nonstop all week leaving you pent up and heated. You decide that today you're going to release this tension, and he's going to help you do it.
Akaashi was called to the office for the fifth time this week to overlook the design of a new magazine, which meant there was little to no alone time between the both of you. Even with those two short days off, his workload would pile over so much that he often had to bring it home with him.
To say you were sick and tired of the attention you were being denied would be an understatement.
You wouldn't blame him or hold it against him though. Your boyfriend worked hard for his career and it paid off greatly. He was a skilled editor for a famous manga magazine. Every booklet they released was far beyond well written and illustrated, so why were you so discontent currently?
Akaashi had done nothing wrong, and if anything, he just continued to raise the bar, so, why were you currently laying in your bed with a dull ache? Why were you face first in Akaashi's pillow guilty soaking up his scent, hoping he'd magically appear?
Why were you imagining his big rough hands grabbing you and tearing you down, just to lift you into highs unknown? You groaned. This just wouldn't do.
Akaashi was crammed at work. Practically running while telling people what they needed to fix and how, while somehow also trying to find time to come up with story ideas and calendars.
His days weren't always jampacked. He had calming days where he could just sit in his office and enjoy his coffee while brainstorming. Sadly today was just not one of those days. After making his rounds of constructive criticism, he could finally sit and unwind for a second before continuing with his task at hand; writing. Literature had always been something he admired since he was a child, though currently, he wished he'd picked a different branch. Days at the office were always ruthless when a deadline was nearing, but recently things have just gotten out of hand.
As Akaashi sat his 'bestest friend' mug down, as he let out a long sigh, rubbing his temple. What he wouldn't do to just be back in his bed curled up under the blankets with you. Your head on his chest as he played with your just-woken-up locks. Maybe a few pecks here and there. A few touches, maybe bites or licks. Fingers traveling lower; teasing. Groaning, Akaashi released his head. 'How unprofessional' he'd thought to himself. He couldn't be thinking such unholy thoughts at work, he still had assignments to finish.
Nonetheless, his brain wouldn't stop thinking about all the ways he could take you. So far it favored forgetting all about his stories and instead, ramming you against his desk. Your ass high in the air, bright and pink from his hand. Your hair in between his fingers, pulling you closer to him. Your mouth yelling out his name and some incoherent syllables he couldn't place.
"Fuck," he said. Taking off his glasses, he let his head fall into his hands. Now's not the time, he repeated in his head. He had to calm down. He had responsibilities. Once he felt like his brain had cooled, he attempted to continue on his work. That is, until he got a call.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, he looked at the caller ID and picture. It was you. 'What perfect timing,' he thought as he slid the answer button. "Baby," you breathily released, "baby I need you."
Akaashi's own breath hitched, hearing your tone. Despite his shock he replied, "Ah ah ah, you know I'm in the office, we can't do this now." Across the line he could hear your heavy pants as a whine was released from his words.
"Akaashi, baby, please, please I need you. I need you so bad right now." You had pleaded back. Akaashi didn't know what had gotten into him. Your voice was like a siren call and his hormones couldn't handle it. His navy blue slacks tightened around his groin and he quickly covered it with his non-busy hand. "Mmph now look at you. You got us both pent up. What do you want me to do about this? About you?" You released a sigh, the fingers circling your clit continuing their slow path. "Help me Akaashi, please." His dark chuckle didn't help the warmth deep in your stomach.
Leaning back further in his office chair, Akaashi tilted his head to his shoulder, holding his phone in place. Beginning to release his belt he said, "Awe, I know you can come up with something better than that. Tell me truthfully, what would you like me to do?" You swore you could hear the smirk in his voice. He was teasing you.
"Please Akaashi, anything. Tell me what to do, what to touch, what to say, anything please." You whined. He in return released another dark chuckle as he dragged the zipper to his pants down. "Ah that's more like it, that's my good girl. Where are your hands now?" "Th-they're on me," you replied.
Looking down at the bulge in his briefs he rose a brow and commented back, "Baby girl if you want me to help you, you have to be more descriptive. You know the rules." Across the screen you nodded and gulped, even though you knew he wouldn't see it. You also knew that he was telling the truth. If you didn't listen to him he wouldn't oblige you in any way; he'd leave you hanging.
"Okay I'm sorry, I'm sorry. There's o-one on my chest and the other is...is.." You didn't think you could continue. Your face was far beyond burnt by the blood rushing to it. Your heart was hammering in your ears. It wasn't like you and Akaashi had never done anything sexual before, you have. A plethora of times, but nothing like this.
"Is where? Tell me Y/n, where is that slutty little hand of yours at?" Akaashi huskily asked across the line. A whine slipped out of your lips as your thighs clenched against your hand.
"My clit. It's-it's on my clit," you breathed out. In return Akaashi let out a groan as his hand gently rubbed his bulge through his briefs. "Good girl. How fast are you rubbing it, hmm?" He questioned.
"S-slow. I'm going slow," you answered back a bit too quickly. Akaashi could sense your need through the line. The way your seemingly quiet breaths came out in puffs in his ear, the urgency in your voice. He had you wrapped around his finger. "Mm go faster and don't stop until I tell you to. You hear me?" A breathy moan was let out from your end, "Yes whatever you say."
You did as your boyfriend told you to, your moans steadily increasing in volume as your fingers increased in speed. Pleased with your sounds, Akaashi let a hand slip under the band of his briefs, stroking himself gently. "Ahh that's my good girl. Tell me how good it feels," he groaned out. Between one of your moans you let out, "G-good, so good Akaashi."
Akaashi let his head fall back on his chair as his eyes closed. He imagined what you looked like, sprawled on your shared bed. Your wetness sticking to your thighs and fingers. He groaned quietly into the air as his cock throbbed at the thought. Pumping it a bit faster he uttered, "Mmm good. Finger yourself baby girl. Pretend I'm there."
In response, your fingers traveled lower towards your hole and you couldn't stop picturing your boyfriend towering over you. His big calloused fingers circling around you until they plunged deep inside your wet cunt.
You cried out as your fingers did just as your imagination implied. Although your fingers weren't as orgasm inducing as his, they did the job. "Oh fuck, Akaashi. God it feels so good," you vocalized. Letting his briefs fall, Akaashi fully released his cock as precum dribbled down it in small streams. He had to bite his lip in order to not let a groan out from the pleasure he was feeling and the waves of pleasure he was getting from your sounds alone.
His hand squeezed his cock as he pumped it faster, "Fuck Y/n. You make me feel so fucking good. Squeeze those pretty tits for me baby." You let your phone fall between your head and shoulder as an eager hand grabbed at one of your nipples, pinching and pulling it. A string of moans and curses left your lips as you continued to please yourself. Your mind wouldn't tear from Akaashi, wishing you had more than just his voice to work with.
To have him ramming into like you both wish he was. The veins in cock rubbing against your walls just right, pushing against that perfect spot. "Akaashi can I go faster, please? Please can you let me go faster?" You pleaded to him because holy shit were you already so close. You weren't expecting to have been so close already, but with the heat you had been carrying all day combined with your boyfriend's sultry voice, you couldn't control yourself.
He let out a mix of both a moan and chuckle as he remarked, "Mm someone's eager today. Can my naughty girl last a bit longer at this speed, hm? Can you do that for me?" Your head rolled back on your pillow as you bit your lip. Of course he wouldn't let you, he's never been that generous. So for his sake and yours you continued with the speed you had set for yourself. Not fast enough to make you cum immediately, but not slow enough that it was no longer pleasurable.
You wanted--no, needed more. A mix between a whine and mewl left your lips as you gripped your breast roughly. "Ak-kaashi please, please I'm so close for you," you pleaded again, hoping this time it'd do the trick. Sighing from the pressure building in his lower abdomen, Akaashi's hand began to get sloppy in the way it stroked him. "You little slut, cum for me. Move those hands as fast as they can go and cum for me," he stated roughly, his own high closing in.
His dark command pushed you to move your hands in the way you wanted. The hand squeezing your breast traveled to your clit to help push you closer to your peak. The fingers within you curled, twisted, pumped into you as fast as you could manage. "Fuck! Fuck Akaashi ahh. God it feels so good," you slurred as pleasure continued to build quicker in you.
Your moans rung through the speaker of his phone and into his ear. Akaashi soaked up every one of them, letting them propel him to pump his cock even faster. His hips began to meet his hand in sloppy thrusts, pushing him over. "Y/n ahhh fuck. You're such a good girl--good girl. Cum for me baby. Cum for me. Cum all over those slutty little fingers baby."
After he was sure you both had caught your breath he stated, "Prepare to get punished when I get home. The next time you pull something like this while I'm at work I won't even think about going easy on you." With that, he hung up and looked at the mess you had caused him to create. He huffed as he began cleaning up. Later that night, he was going to teach you not to interrupt him at work, and he wouldn't let up until he was sure you knew.
Your high came in like a blast of hot summer air. Warmth wrapped around you as your fingers continued to work on your eager cunt. Your back arching and toes curling as you came on your fingers and screamed Akaashi's name. Akaashi wasn't too far behind, his hand almost crushing his cock as it spurted out his hot seed. His breath hitched as he tried to catch his breath, muttering your name and profanities as his high came toppling to a close.
- End
A/N: Hi hi readers ! I hope you enjoyed this first kinktober entry ! I can't wait to write more for you guys!
- 💗
#💗#keepitclose#my writing#haikyuu#keiji akaashi#akaashi keiji#akaashi keji x reader#smut#fanfic#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#kinktober 2020#kinktober#drabble#babygirl#wow this was super long
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A McDanno rec list for a new friend. (These are also authors I enjoy, so consider this a blanket rec list.)
The Bareknuckle Poet by pleasebekidding
After a serious accident left Steve temporarily wheelchair-bound, working towards his recovery, he enrolled at Rutgers for a year. He met Danny Williams in his criminology course, wearing pride pins and chipped black nail polish, so sure of himself that Steve found it breathtaking. What happened next redefined Steve's sense of self, his ambitions, and many of his priorities.
Tax Benefits by renecdote
“Everyone already assumes we’re married so maybe we should just...” Danny gestures broadly with his beer. He’s maybe a little bit… Not drunk, but definitely tipsy.
“For the tax benefits.”
Danny gives him an aggravated look. “Yes, Steven, for the tax benefits.”
Danny (jokingly) suggests they should get married. Steve takes him seriously.
ua kaha aku la ka nalu o kuu aina (the surf has pressed upon my land) by icoulddothisallday, TetrodotoxinB
Steve knows, he learned, how a man behaves. He can play his part.
Danny, who is a good man and great father, looks nothing like what Steve was taught.
Reconciling the two means giving up everything he's clung too for the last two decades, and there's nothing about it that's easy.
*potentially triggery AF (deals with effects of conversion therapy) but beautifully rendered
the art of leaving and saying goodbye by Verasteine
2007 is the year Danny learns that choice can be the worst kind of heartbreak. AU.
*warning for infidelity (not mcdanno)
in jest by apathyinreverie
“No, babe,” Danny shakes his head with a grin. “If the apocalypse were to go down while I’m elsewhere for some godforsaken reason, then you stay put and I’m coming to wherever you are.” His grin widens. “And I expect you to have cleared any aliens or zombies or whatever else might be messing with us off the island and to have set up a nice, comfortable military dictatorship for us to rule over by the time I get back.”
It’s a joke.
Of course it’s a joke.
Until it isn’t.
(A the-day-after-tomorrow-style apocalypse AU, where the world decides to end right when Danny is visiting one of the other islands with Grace. Because, of course, it does.)
not just friendship (romance too) by earthquakedream
Steve's gone and gotten himself a boyfriend. Danny's not sure what worse: the fact that he's stupidly jealous or that he actually likes the guy.
All I Ever Wanted (It Comes with a Price) by leviarty
Steve gets shot. Again. Danny is not okay.
* warning: a young grace shoots someone to protect both herself and a gravely injured steve
After All Our Troubles, We Have This by Banshi13
"I'm ending this," McGarrett muttered after a few moments of silence. "I'm not coming back until Wo Fat is in the ground. I'll dig his own grave and bury him myself if I have to, but my father is dead, my mother is running all over the world in hiding, my sister and I were uprooted from our lives, and now he's got Danny locked somewhere in a basement in the middle of Japan." He looked both Chin and Kono in the eye, deadly resolve in his eyes. "This ends. Now. This is the absolute last time that man interferes with my life and my family."
The Other Guy by haldoor
Danny tells Steve what he thinks is a funny story from when he attended Grace's school play. Steve doesn't think it's so funny; in fact, it makes him jealous.
Strapped by stellarmeadow
Steve's determined Danny's going to be prepared next time.
Warm to the Touch by veronicaluv
Danny didn't think twice about going to North Korea to find Steve. He just didn't know everything would go to hell when they got back.
Me and my heart (We got issues) by SquaresAreNotCircles
“I’m in love with you, Steve,” Danny says. He does it softly, quietly, laying the words into the darkness of Steve’s backyard like they’re something breakable, something to be tiptoed around. “I thought you should know.”
Steve’s heart jumps. It rams against his ribcage so hard it’s going to leave bruises. So hard he startles awake, and he almost yells before he realizes he’s outside because he fell asleep in one of the garden chairs in his backyard again.
how to be gay for your best friend in ten easy steps by commatme
See, the thing is that Danny doesn’t really do gay sex, what with being straight and all, but when Steve says I love you he sounds so earnest he makes Danny want to consider it. Which is crazy, right? He’s pretty sure that’s crazy, or at least a little unhinged.
It’s Not So Easy Caving In by paradis
The one where Danny used to be a heroin addict.
blame it on the ocean view by carryokee
Danny gives in, freaks out, and comes to his senses.
So Have I Loved You by Brumeier
In which Grace has a surprise for Steve's birthday and there's not a dry eye in the house.
take it back to a couple years yesterday by itsrosencrantz
Danny really, really doesn't want to go to his twenty year high school reunion.
Steve decides they're going anyway, and Danny takes it about as well as you'd expect.
View From The Shipwreck by flowerfan
Danny Williams isn’t in a great place – he’s a reluctant transplant to Oahu and an outsider at HPD. Former Navy SEAL Steve McGarrett isn’t doing much better, having suffered a career ending injury. When Danny’s young daughter Grace wanders into Steve’s bar after getting lost on a school field trip, Danny is drawn to Steve, somewhat against his better judgement – he’s got enough on his plate. He’s not exactly sure what Steve sees in him. As they spend more time together, Danny learns how Steve’s injury has changed his life in many ways, but not the most important ones. As one thing leads to another, Danny realizes that things might be looking up after all.
True North by lavvyan
“Tell you what, my dad’s throwing his annual Christmas Ball on Saturday. It’s not a trip to Aspen or anything, but it is nice. Fancy food and everything. You guys should come!”
On the trail of a suspected war criminal, Steve and Danny have to go undercover at a fancy ball. The sacrifices they make for the job.
Oh, and Steve's pining like the taiga. Nothing new there.
outside the lines by withoutwords
“I’m Detective Williams.” Danny says, not trying too hard to keep it smug free. “This is my partner, Detective Mackenzie.”
Ken Doll keeps his arms up, his eyes flickering between them all as if he's only seeing police for the first time. “Good cover,” he tells Danny, and it sets Danny’s teeth on edge.
“This is the part where you say sorry for assaulting a police detective, for compromising an investigation, and for acting like a complete asshole while doing it,” Danny growls, about to change his mind and cuff the guy himself.
“Sorry, Officer.”
The bastard is still grinning.
Boys Like Me, We Try Too Hard by romanticallyinept
Steve's always wound so fucking tight.
And Danny's worried about him. Legitimately worried about him. Because maybe Steve always lays into the perps a little hard, and maybe he follows his own rules and his own morals and doesn't stop to sleep unless his body's actually shutting down around him, but usually, Steve's okay at the end of the day. Usually, Steve's not leaning against the wall of the alley they're in, eyes closed and shaking, with the perp he'd cuffed a minute earlier lying on the ground and crying about his broken nose.
Steve keeps a secret, and Danny does his best to patch him back up when it comes to light.
Transformative by boxparade
“You know, I’d heard you’d changed a lot after high school, but I’ve gotta admit, this is a little weird.”
* trans (FTM) Danny
All the Way by VictoriaAGrey
Danny has lost count of how many times he and Steve have used the sexual tension between them for undercover work, only for it to be bottled away after the op is over. With Saint Michael as his witness, that ends tonight.
Nocturne in C# Minor (featuring Stevie Ray Vaughn) by minor_demimonde
So, to recap, Danny has beautiful eyes, great shoulders, a pleasantly-shaped butt, a delectable mouth, expressive hands, and he smells good.
You know, Steve has gone to bed with women who didn’t have that much going for them.
seen it in the flight of birds by Siria
AU from the beginning of Season 2. The Five-0 task force has been reinstated, but the new governor's determined to shake things up. Facing changes and unexpected betrayals, the team has to work together to face new challenges.
It Ain’t Me Babe (Nah), It Ain’t Me You’re Looking For (Babe) by tourdefierce
A story in which Danny makes lists and can't find his heterosexuality underneath all his homogay, Steve has a lot of faces, Kono is perfect in every way and Chin continues to keep Hawaii safe from the Five-O's general disfunction—Or, a story about Kono being awesome and how she likes her men with hearts in their eyes for each other.
Ratios, Decimals, and Percentages by fuchs
In which Steve takes an internet quiz and slowly loses his mind. Danny's okay with it.
Let’s Dance Like We Used To by AndreaLyn
There isn't a world in which Danny wouldn't go after Grace. So when Rachel moves the family to California, Danny goes with. Steve gets left to process life without Danny.
Gunfire, Rainfall, and Beach Erosion by thegrrrl2002
Steve and Danny are kidnapped. After which there is too much swimming and too much rain and it's all very romantic. If you are Steve, that is.
Moving In (To Every Single Aspect of Danny’s Life, Including the Boring Bits like Dry-Cleaning by westgirl
It felt wrong for Steve to sound unsure of his place in Danny’s life. His place in Danny’s life was at Danny’s side, driving him slowly insane. Steve should feel secure about that.
Always Known What I Wanted To Be by mickeysixx
Grace Williams has always wanted to be a cop.
The Taper Phase by popfly
It’s like being run over by an armored car, like the impact of gunshot to tac vest. The pride Danny feels for his daughter and something else, something about Steve’s tank top sticking to his stomach, the way his shorts stretch across his thighs. The goofy grin that lights up Steve’s face when he sees Danny and Charlie, waving one hand while he nudges Grace with the other.
Pitching Woo by SBG
In which Danny pitches (and then accidentally catches) woo.
clue: four letters, ‘is a many splendored thing’ by armillarysphere
“Crosswords? What are you, sixty?”
“They stimulate brain activity, Danno. You ought to try it sometime.”
Steve doesn’t even look up from his newspaper, half-chewed pen resting at the corner of his mouth in an entirely too distracting way.
That’s Not Just Friendship, That’s Romance by thismuchmore
Danny and Steve start out accidentally dating each other, and it turns into something more.
it’s not what you’re sure of (it’s what you don’t know) by somehowunbroken
Art thief Steve McGarrett and his team come up against FBI Special Agent Danny Williams, and things spin wildly out of control from there.
Same Deep Water by JiM, kalena
This isn't the first lifetime Danny's been in Hawaii. When the stress ratchets up, the dreams get more and more real. Turns out Danny has some unfinished business . . . with Steve.
Warning: Ambien use may lower inhibitions in a wakeful state.
Curiosity Didn’t Kill This Cat by unadrift
"I'm confused," Rachel says. "Are you two dating or not?"
Danny sighs. "You remember that thing with the cat in the box? The one that's both dead and alive?"
"Schroedinger's cat?"
"It's kind of like that."
"Okay," Rachel says. She clearly has no idea what he's talking about.
2727 Piikoi Street by imaginary_iby
The ways in which Danny makes himself at home by Steve's side, and the family he gains as the years go by. (Featuring Steve in Timberland boots and little else, and happy goofs who like to make out against the front door).
All The Earth Awaits Thee by Portrait_of_a_Fool
Steve knows all about war and willpower, but this is still the hardest battle he’s ever had to fight.
* warning: life threatening illness, no MCD
The Vertical Challenge by AlamoGirl80
Five times Danny thinks about his height, and then realizes that being "not-tall" doesn't really suck at all.
Some Things to Think About When You Decide to Be an Asshole by sutlers
Steve gets high and tries to fuck Danny; things devolve from there.
Inked by thehoyden
Of course Steve is enjoying himself. They're bait for a serial killer who has some sort of serious hangup about tattooing loved ones' names on their skin -- of course Steve thinks this is practically like a vacation, but better, because the chances of collateral damage are higher.
This Thing Of Ours (It Needs a Better Name) by leupagus
Cosa Nostra: (kō'sə nō'strə) etym: Italian n. The branch of the Mafia operating in the United States. Literally, "our thing" or "this thing of ours."
Ho’oponopono by ember_firedrake
Groundhog Day AU. Danny finds himself trapped in the same day over and over again.
Swim for Brighter Days by zarah5
Danny kisses Steve late on a Tuesday, early on a Wednesday. Steve punches him. (Set vaguely post-finale, so spoilers for that.)
All My Guards Away by sheafrotherdon
Tag to episode 1x18, with all the heartache that implies. Now with bonus fixes. With thanks to dogeared for all her suggestions and edits.
Let’s Take it from the Top by pterawaters
Steve goes along with the bachelor-party-in-Vegas, because he chose Danny to be his best man, and that's what Danny wants to do. Unfortunately, the things that happen in Vegas don't necessarily stay there.
How to Keep Your Mouth Shut by primetime
Danny’s sometimes gay. Gay, sometimes. Does dudes. He doesn’t know how to say it right. He doesn’t know how to say it at all.
Don’t Turn Me Home Again by gyzym
After a rough day of island living, Danny wakes up in New Jersey and learns the hard way to be careful what he wishes for.
End-Around by t_fic
Steve hesitates with his hand on the doorknob, looking back over his shoulder at Danny and nodding once before disappearing inside, and yeah, Danny is going to be so fucking lucky to get through this night without a coronary event.
Lonely People Do Stupid Things by waketosleep
Danny decides to show Steve the true meaning of Christmas, and does it by dragging him to New Jersey.
Down Beneath the Waves by samjohnsson
A picture may be worth a thousand words, but sometimes it takes another thousand to explain it.
Love’s a Battlefield (and the Navy Did Not Train Steve for This Shit) by cyerus
The Kalakaua-Kelly clan are determined to matchmake Steve. Out of desperation, Steve makes up a boyfriend named Danny.
It doesn't quite go according to plan.
put your mind at ease by eleanor_lavish
Somewhere in the last year, while Steve was busy killing bad guys, Don’t Ask Don’t Tell has been erased from the books and guys like Jeff can marry whoever they damn well please.
You’ve Got Hawaii (and all I’ve got is you) by queenklu
In which Danny has issues, presents, and Steve fleas, not necessarily in that order.
Jaws by JoeLawson
Danny has a secret.
#mcdanno#fic rec#super simple edit is mine please don't copy#it's also my twitter header I WILL KNOW#Hawaii five-0#h50#holy shit this got so long it took like three hours
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Second Part of Halloween Collab!!
Here we have: Switch/Dom Pirate Axel x Female Reader Disguised as Male!
In previous post we have: Jealous Pirate Otto x Female Reade Disguised as Male!
The salty wind blew, the hot air of the Caribbean touching your face softly, the scent of the sea calling to you.
You weren't made for tight dresses and gowns. Sure, you loved them, but you wanted more, more than just the view of the sea out of your window, more than just the waves crashing against your feet as you stood in the beach.
Today was your day, you had made sure of it. You dressed slowly, wrapping the bind around your chest as tightly as you could, looking in the mirror.
Yes, this would be PERFECT.
Axel regarded his tall brother, wondering why he insisted on wearing such a hot ensemble. It suited him though, watching as the local prostitutes of the docks tried catching his eye, but failing, Otto’s disgruntled visage making them turn away to seek company elsewhere, or another man with coin.
Blue-gray eyes shifted, landing on a small thing, a lad, practically drowning in his oversized clothes, the black fabrics loose around his frame. How odd, he thought, watching as Oscar pushed the lad playfully, his coat opening-
Now, that wasn't a color a young lad like that should be wearing...
A deep navy blue sash hung against his hips, hidden under the lads jacket... hmm.
Men sang, drunk and happy, enjoying eachothers company as Axel made his way down ship, searching for the mysterious lad that had boarded upon his ship earlier. None other had seen him for a while, each man saying that the lad had gone to bed. All hammocks lay empty, expect for the few occasional drunkard snoring away.
“Axe- Captain, a word?” Oscar called to him a ways away, looking surprised and smug, never a good mix.
“What? Im busy.” Axel snapped at his younger brother, frustration at not finding the bizarre lad running through him. Why was he so taken-
“I- There’s a lass, onboard.” Oscar whispered, staring at his brother as his words registered, Axel’s eyes squinting at him.
“Excuse me?” Axel said, expecting it to be a joke, because how could a lass-
Of course. That's what he had felt when he had looked at her, the lad wasnt a man, he was a female, a lass, hidden in disguise to board a ship for who knows what reason.
He held up a hand to his brother and nodded, smiling a bit more honestly.
“Yes, the lad this morning, was that her disguise?” Axel asked him, pursing his lips as Oscar smirked, the little shit shrugging.
“I just found out, heard her singing. Figured the Captain should go uh, warn her.” Oscar whispered, smiling widely. He pointed him in the correct direction and made his way to her.
You bathed silently, humming a tune your mother had once sang, delicately washing your hair. You would have to get used to it, the salty water making it dry and crisp, sticking together and making you look like a poodle. Sighing, you continued slowly, untangling it until a sound rang out. A soft knock at the door, soft but demanding, god, someone had found you out.
“Yes, come in.” Old habits of being a proper lady died hard, making you speak, your hand rising to shut your mouth. Oh god, they were going to kill you, defile you even, knowing there was a woman onboard...
The Captain came in, face passive and silent, eyes on you in an instant, taking in your naked form over the basin. Would he throw you overboard? You regretted ever thinking this could work-
“You should be more quiet, next time.” He said, still observing you, eyes continuously roaming all of your form, landing on your breasts finally before raising to your eyes. You fought the urge to cover yourself, heat pooling between your closed thighs at his seeking stare. It took a moment for his words to sink in, eyes growing wider for a moment as you looked at him.
“I- Im sorry Captain- Oh I was so stupid, please don’t throw me overboard!” You whispered to him, turning fully and gracing him with and amazing view of your body once more, legs parted as you sat on the edge of the basin. He breathed in sharply, closing his eyes at the hauntingly delicious view. No, he couldn’t look, be a pirate he may, but not to the extent of harming a lass who might be unwilling. Axel cursed inwardly at the stirring in his trousers, willing his body to relax.
It was too late, you noticed, eyes roaming his form just as he had moments ago. An idea struck you, looking at him struggling to keep his gaze away, as if you were a mermaid, tempting him to succumb to your attentions. And that you would be, tempting a beautiful man to use you, fuck you into the hard wood of the basin, to have the Captain of a ship fuck you like a common whore.
“I apologize. I assume this was your bathing water, was it Captain?” You asked softly, his eyes opening and burning into yours, finally taking a step closer, his decision made.
“Yes.” Axel simply replied, steps heavy yet quiet, advancing on you like a hunter, your nipples hardening at his gaze.
“Then come, share it with me.” You muttered as he stood infront of you, eyes glacial and hot, his hand rising to move a strand of your hair from your face, his smirk making you squirm.
“You will be the one cumming, if I may be so permitted.” Axel whispered, his other hand untying his sash, throwing it on the floor amongst your discarded clothes. His play on your previous words made you close your eyes, his thumb entering your mouth softly, moaning as you sucked on it.
It took no time for him to withdraw and nearly tear his remaining clothes off before joining you in the now lukewarm water, pulling you down onto his strong thighs, a hand in your hair tugging it back.
“Tell me, what made you board my ship, dressed as a lad?” He asked against your skin, touching your body, enjoying the feel of your wet heat against his thigh.
You moaned, hands landing on his hard shoulders for support, adoring the rough way he held you, hand palming your breast.
“I wanted adventure, oh yesss- I wanted to run away from my life-“ you tried, Axel’s free hand finding itself between your thighs rubbing you. You had never felt any of this before from anyone, only your own hands had served you all these years, your father’s hatred for men too strong to allow anyone to approach you, even less try and touch you.
But here, now, an unknown Captain you barely knew rubbed your core, finger entering you slowly, holding your hair in tight grip, and you realized you adored it. You wanted this, eyes shutting tightly as he continued, watching your every movement and sound.
He must have known you were pure, the pause in his motions alerting you as he leaned forward, hand leaving your hair.
“You are... untouched.” He said, asked, his face finding itself against your neck. You nodded, holding him close.
“I want this, I want to be touched and used by you, please. I want you to be my first, Captain.”
Your words struck him, lifting his head to look into your eyes, finding no trace of a lie. He smirked as you came closer, hand on his hardness rubbing him.
“Naughty little thing, tell me your name before I ravage you.” He said, pulling your hips flush against him as you whimpered, his hardness so close to your center.
“Y/N, and yours, my Captain?” You replied, loving the way he pulled you up, placing himself correctly before pushing in slowly into your wet core, his rough hand over your mouth to prevent your loud keen from being heard while glacial eyes watched you.
“Axel, älskling. If you are to stay on my ship, from now on, you will only part your legs for me, understand?” Axel bit out, loving the way you rose off his length and came back down, water sloshing around the both of you, taking him all in as if you had done this a million times, breasts heaving infront of his face, licking his lips.
He would ravage you alright, the sounds of your love making resonated through the ship, not a soul daring to acknowledge out loud the female voice that cried their captain’s name over and over again.
Axel’s teeth met your skin over and over again as he rammed into you, whispering things in a language you didn’t understand, rough and strong, having his way with you until he had you cumming, hand in your hair softening as he pulled you closer against him, breasts crushed between the both of you.
Your lips finally met, swallowing your moans as you came undone ontop of him, his own noises muffled against your lips as you squeezed him and made him follow you, cumming deep inside you, your own hands holding his shoulders oh so tightly.
Axel, your Captain and lover, held you close, touch turning reverent and soft against your back, kissing you again and again.
“I meant what I said.” He whispered against your cheek as his eyes met your discarded male clothes, wondering if you would stay, or leave once they stopped at shore in the next town.
Now, Axel was never a liar, but he was definitely lying to himself when he told himself he wouldn’t care if you left, your soft pants against his cheek making him hold you closer for a moment.
You giggled, the noise surprising him just enough for him to look back at you, confusion melting as he met your gaze.
“I accept, Captain, or should I say, Axel, my lover?” You giggled, the both of you ignoring the knock on the door as Axel leaned forward in the basin of now cold water, kissing and licking each mark he had left against your skin.
#AHHHH ENJOY#tua swedes#tua axel#tua oscar#tua otto#the swedes#the swedes x reader#smut#NS/FW#ikea mafia#Ikea fam#umbrella academy Swedes#JossamBird Fic#pirate swedes
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Into Wonderland Chapter Two: Savanaclaw Part Two
They wake up in a jungle, sputtering and coughing water.
"Are you okay?" A soft voice asks them, shaking their shoulder lightly as they cough out more water. The boy pats their back soothingly as they catch their breath, leaping to their feet and searching the area.
"Ruggie?! Jack?!" They panic, no sign of their friends.
"Wait..." The boy asks, slowly approaching them. "Jack? Ruggie? Are you..." The teenage boy's expression lightens and he pulls them in for a hug. The human, shocked, awkwardly pats the boy's back.
They pull away, scanning the boy's features- Messy, orange and yellow hair, wide brown eyes, large lion ears poking out of the top of his head.
"Cheka?!" They yell. The boy winces. There was no doubt about it- aside from now being taller than the human and a lot sharper- the teenager was still the same little boy who ran away all those years ago. "We were looking everywhere for you!"
"...Really?" The boy goes quiet and slouches down, tears welling in his eyes. "'m sorry..."
"No no no!" The human reassures, now bring the one to pat the boy on the back. "It's okay! You went through a lot... I'm sure Leona will be happy to see you back!"
"Really?!" The boy's ears perk up, and the human can hear his tail thudding against the dirt. "I'm just so worried that-"
"Who in the fresh fuck are you?" A voice yelps from the bushes behind them. Mc turns, eyes widening when they see a familiar pair of ruby red eyes, a pair of bright green ones next to them. They still have their rabbit ears, despite being messy and larger than before.
"Ace! Deuce!" They exclaim, standing from their spot.
"...How do you know our names?" Deuce asks, looking at the human curiously.
"I-" Mc stammers. "You don't remember? From Wonderland? The queen of hearts almost killed us!"
"Oh!" Cheka stands between the human and the confused hares. "They're not from the Savanna!"He turns to Mc. "You're probably confusing them- it's a funny coincidence though!"
"...yeah..." The human murmurs. "Anyways- we need you back home! Everyone is really upset at Leona right now and-"
"Why?" Cheka asks.
"Because he can't get laid!" Mc exclaims, frustratedly throwing their hands in the air. "And there's no heir to the throne and-"
"Wait- throne?" Deuce gasps. "Are you seriously a prince?!" He exclaims, backing away from Cheka.
"Was!" Chela sighs. "I don't belong there any more..."
"Yes you do!" Mc stomps. "Listen, everyone back at home was upset that you went missing- Leona most of all, even if he doesn't show it-" They mutter that last part. "Either way, the stability of the pride is in danger, and so is Leona and Ruggie!"
"What do you mean?" Cheka's ears perk up. Mc explains Leona's plan to pass on his power to whoever he sees fit- and being closest to beastmen who aren't lions, how people see them, especially Ruggie, as he's the closest, as threats to their pride. They explain how if Cheka went back, he could avoid all of that and save them from anyone who could try to overthrow Leona, or worse- kill him and take the power for themselves.
Cheka goes silent for a moment, staring into the lake that sits in the middle of the jungle.
"Nobody's upset at you Cheka," The whisper softly. "None of what happened was your fault. It was just bad timing-"
"But how can I look at them the same? I ran away- even Jack would call me a coward if he saw me again. Everyone knows it-"
"Okay listen kid-" Ace steps forward, planting a hand on the boy's shoulder. "First of all, you were four. Second, you managed to survive all the way out here until you found us!"
Deuce steps forward too, ears twitching. "Yeah! And even though we'll be sad to see you go, you can still help everyone!"
"You two can come with us!" Mc suggests. They stare at them in shock.
"We're hares-" Deuce starts.
"And he's too stupid to be around others without being considered a threat-" Ace points his thumb at the navy haired boy, who jumps.
"No! Thats not it at all!"
"So? There are tons of other animals back in the pride lands. Were you not listening? We literally have a hyena in one of the highest positions! And a wolf from the North!"
"Okay, okay- we get it," Ace sighs, standing and stretching. "Let's go there, put the kid on the throne, save everyone's asses, and live happily ever after!"
"I feel like you're being sarcastic-" Mc deadpans.
"Eh, not as much as you think I am."
"Lets go!" Cheka, with a newfound burst of energy, cheers. Everyone then goes on the journey back to the pridelands, only getting lost a little bit along the way. Cheka tells Mc of all the times he'd shared with Ace and Deuce, between them finding him half dead outside of the jungle, to how he'd eaten bugs the whole time he'd been living there, to joking with Ace and Deuce about dumb stuff they'd done while raising him.
Mc smiles, watching the trio get along. Finally, they spot pride rock in the distance. Cheka slows a bit but, with a little bit of persuading from the three around him, he runs up towards the rock.
"Jack!" The boy yells, launching himself at the wolf man.
"Wow, you really weren't joking-" Ace whispers to Mc.
"Cheka?! How did you..." He looks to the side, grinning widely when he sees Mc and he rushes over to them. "Are you okay? I'm sorry, I should have noticed the flood earlier and-"
Mc quiets him with a pat to the head, something he let them do only after years of being friends. "It's okay big guy. Besides, I found Cheka!"
"Ruggie! Leona!" They yell, leading the group up the side of the rock.
"Mc?!" Ruggie yelps, dropping the basket he was holding and running at them. He holds their face, forcibly moving their head from side to side, searching for injuries, as they groan.
"I'm fine! I'm fine!" The swat him away. "You're like a mom..."
"I would be less worried if you weren't just taken away by a flood!" He groans, looking over to the side to see the two hares and Cheka.
"Hi Ruggie!" Cheka chirps.
"How in the-"
"Ruggie? What's taking so lo-" Leona steps out from the cave, followed by a group of other lions that lived nearby. His jaw drops as he strides over to the teenage boy, pulling at his ears as the boy laughs, wrapping his arms around the man's torso.
"Uncle Leona! I'm home! I'm home!" He cheers. Leona chuckles, bringing a calloused hand to pat the boy's head.
"Welcome home, kid-"
"What is this?" One of the lionesses steps forward. "I thought you said he was dead-"
"I'm not dead! I'm home now!" The boy laughs.
"Your Highness, what is the meaning of this?" Another man steps forward. Anxiety pools in the human's gut as Ruggie pulls them behind him, with Jack moving to stand closer to Leona.
"I never said he died!" Leona defends himself. "He went missing the day of the stampede. We all saw it. We told you he was missing, not dead."
"You're telling me we could have had an actual king this entire time!" One of the other women snarls.
"An actual-"
"We could have had someone with Farena's disposition, then everything would have been normal! We needed someone like him-" She motions towards Cheka. "The most. Not someone who makes a hyena do his bidding." She spits out the word hyena, and Ruggie shrinks down a bit, ears flattening against his head.
"Just listen to what-" Leona starts.
"We did not have to suffer- the food shortages, the humiliation! None of it had to happen if we had just gone out and found our true king!"
"Hey!" Cheka yells, only to be drowned out by the angry lions.
"I can't believe this!" The lioness charges at Leona, roaring. Mc sprints past Ruggie, who yelps and tries to grab onto their tunic. They push Leona out of the way, the man tripping off to the side. The lioness rams into Mc, sending them sliding until they slip off the edge of pride rock.
They fall downwards, screaming as Ruggie, Leona, and Jack scramble to the edge and try to grab a hold of them.
The last thing they see is Ruggie, Jack, and Leona's panicked expressions as they plummet to the ground, all three beastmen reaching their claws out at the falling human.
I feel like I've seen this before- They think, closing their eyes and preparing to slam against the ground.
They finally land, sand exploding in every direction around them.
I DID NOT EXPECT TO WRITE THIS MUCH FOR THIS ONE I'M SORRY
I also genuinely don't know how ti spell Savanna/ Savanah bc I knew a girl named Savanah and google tells me that its Savanna so idek whats happening at this point
I'm just now realizing that i forgot to add the monkey in the lion king i hate it here
#twisted wonderland#savanaclaw#leona kingscholar#ruggie bucchi#jack howl#cheka kingscholar#ace trappola#deuce spade#twst scenarios#twst fanfic
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Can we get a 2, 3, 11, 26 and 45 for Jack, the queen, the absolute madlad(lass)?
,,,How did I know *wheeze*
2 and 3. Relationship with her mother/father
>Jack had a great relationship with her mother and father! I guess we kinda need to dig into some backstory... so... might as well answer both 2 and 3 together and also tell her entire childhood story because why the hell not.
You can jot down that her place of origin was West Yorkshire, specifically in Shibden under tenancy of Shibden hall. Those of you who are aware of a certain person named Anne Lister will likely recognize this place, and yes I absolutely got the name Jack from "Gentleman Jack." Unfortunately Anne Lister wasn't even born until long after this Jack would have left, so the two never would have chanced to meet.
Her mother, Camellia Smith-Wyndham, and her father, Benjamin Wyndham, were tenants of Shibden farmland, specifically shepherds that raised sheep for wool. Jack was born as Sylvia Wyndham, and was an only child. She never really grew up with gender roles, her parents shared most of the work anyways, and pretty dresses weren't exactly great for helping tend to livestock, so she was always pretty masculine and neither of her parents minded so long as she helped them to get work done. Unfortunately, when Jack was about 10 years old, her father up and left. Yep. Just up and left with absolutely no warning - which seemed odd, because despite being often exhausted from work and worried about keeping the tenancy, he was a genuinely good dad who she was very close to! He was the one that inspired her love of stories and fascinations with mythical creatures, and also her interest in sailing since his own father was a sailor before retiring and acquiring a tenancy at Shibden. The truth was Benjamin had been unhappy - he didn't really love Camellia - not romantically anyways, but the two of them had been arranged in marriage and that just was the way it was. So despite loving his daughter very much, the moment he happened upon the opportunity to join a whaling crew while out in town one day, he up and left and never came back. Camellia and Jack were then forced to continue the work there on their own. While her father was the one to fill her head with stories and aspirations, her mother was always there to keep her grounded while still encouraging her to always be bold and speak up for herself. As soon as it was discovered that they were without a man in the family, though, they were kicked out of the tenancy and replaced. And thus, they moved to Scarborough. While Camellia worked on, well, finding work, Jack spent most of her time by the docks with the fishermen, who were amused by the way she acted and dressed and gladly accepted her company if not just to laugh at her. It was actually here that she gained the name Jack, as that's what the fishermen started to call her since she "might as well have been a man anyhow."
Unfortunately, her mother soon died of disease - I won't say what disease - and Jack was left to her own devices. She decided at that point that, considering she already dressed like a man and vaguely looked like a man and sounded like a young man, she might as well just be one if it meant finding work in her area of interest. Well - problem was that practically everyone in Scarborough knew she was actually a woman, but a few of the fishermen who took pity on her for her troubles decided she could get a job in repairing their sails since... "well women are good at sewing, right?" Turns out, she was actually damn good at it, and not only that, but she really enjoyed the work! She became fascinated by how something so simple as a big ol' piece of cloth could make such a difference in sailing, and it pretty much became her hyperfixation. Point is, she got so damn good at it that some of the fishermen recommended she travel down to London and come up with a full alias for herself so she could work as a sailmaker for much bigger ships.
And that's what she did! She became Jack Corbyn, and moved to London where she eventually became a sailmaker for the Royal Naval Dockyards, making and repairing sails for Navy ships. She worked there for a few years until she ended up getting kicked out (luckily only kicked out and not worse) after somebody who had discovered she was a woman made the mistake of threatening her and she may or may not have accidentally or maybe not so accidentally gotten him killed. She ended up moving down to work at the Chatham Dockyard, but everyone hated her there thanks to her very abrasive personality and she hated everyone there too! And uh. Well eventually finds her way to a certain sailor we all know and love.
And that's her whole life story! Bet you weren't expecting that.
11. Most afraid she's ever been
> Oh - oh you thought this would be about her scar? Hah. She likes to make everyone think the scar came from something scary but... actually it came from an accident involving a tree, a sword, and an ornery ram named Brian. Nothing scary, more embarrassing than anything.
The most afraid she's actually ever been was after the guy died at the Royal Naval Dockyards. She was absolutely sure that A. he had told others and others now knew which would then ruin her life and B. that she would be executed for it probably. Luckily that wasn't the case.
26. Behavior around children
>Uncomfortable as all hell around very small children, though very small children tend to like her because she treats them just about the same way she treats anyone else. Absolutely adores hanging around teens because they always seem to be the most interested in her stories while also being much easier to talk to without fear than younger kids (who she is slightly worried she might accidentally traumatize without thinking). In general though, kids of any age tend to absolutely worship her if they're either gullible enough or mischievous enough.
45. Belief in what happens after death
>Jack believes realistically that... nothing happens after death. You just die and your body is reclaimed by the earth and that's it. She's not necessarily afraid of it but she also isn't too keen on dying any time soon. That being said what she wants to believe is the story her father once told her about how when people die, their soul passes into a crow's egg if they lived their life to make no impact on others, a magpie's egg if they had a negative impact on others, and a raven's egg if they had a positive impact, and they are thus reborn over and over again as that kind of bird. It's that story that she actually took inspiration for her last name from "Corbyn" meaning raven 😌
#ask games!#basically pulled all of this out of my ass *wheeze*#but at least now she has a proper backstory?
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When History Comes Calling, Ch 5/14
art by @snuffes
Fandom: Mass Effect
Rating: Teen
Pairing: none, some background Fshep/Garrus
Summary: In 2170, Mindoir was attacked by slavers. Hundreds were taken captive, hundreds more were slaughtered. Kiryn was the only Shepard to make it out alive. For years, he buried his grief, kept his head high, and did whatever he needed to survive.He survived Mindoir and the batarians and when the Reapers came he survived them too.
But when the war ends and he escapes his batarian masters to the Citadel, the discovery that his twin sister is alive and well might just be the thing that breaks him. The Hegemony's greatest assassin will remember what it means to have something to lose.
AO3 link in notes!
Silversun Strip was…certainly something. Kiryn had been through his fair share of space stations, and this riot of shining glass and neon lights made them all look like space-bound towns. Actually, now that he thought about it, the Strip outpaced quite a few cities he’d seen, too.
This was another one of the few barely-scathed areas, although less because it had been well protected and more likely because it contained nothing the Reapers would have considered vital to survival. Clearly the genocidal synthetics from beyond dark space had never heard how important enrichment was for an organic’s mental wellbeing. Even here, though, there were signs of a struggle -- unpatched bullet holes in the walls and ripped up floor panels roped off as tripping hazards.
Nowhere to get away from it, Kiryn thought, even on your days off.
Kiryn moved with the flow of the crowd, letting them carry him down the streets as he planned his entrance. The easiest way to get inside an apartment building was through the service entrance. Half the time someone had propped the door open and you could stroll right in.
When he reached the right alleyway, he extricated himself from the crush of people, turned the corner, and scrapped the plan because there were two undercover officers hovering outside the building. They were doing their best to stay hidden, and their Citadel janitorial staff outfits looked legitimate. But they watched the doors a little too closely, kept their hands a little too close to their jackets, stood a little too warily.
So he ducked into the nearest building, which did have the service entrance propped open. He strolled down the corridor, through the lobby, and back out into the street. No sign of anyone watching the front entrance, which was interesting. Likely they were putting their trust in the building’s electronic security system. No trouble there; Kiryn knew his way around those, too.
This would be a little trickier, though. There was no way to avoid being seen, so he had to rely on not being remembered. Kiryn stuck his hands in his pockets and relaxed his shoulders, arranged his expression into one of mild interest. Nice and casual, everyone is supposed to be where they are. He strolled past the furniture store, pretended to be briefly intrigued by the sale on bed frames (five hundred credits off full size or bigger!), and finally approached Tiberius Towers’ front entrance.
He hit the call button for 15B. No response. Good. His assumption had been a safe bet: anyone who would have been in the apartment would be with Shepard. With Keris. With his sister.
Find the moment.
Stay focused.
He hit the button again.
Kiryn heaved a sigh, put on an expression of exasperation, and leaned on the button. If there had been anyone in the apartment, they would have answered by now just to make the noise stop. He pretended not to notice the turian woman approaching until she was right next to him.
“Um, excuse me.”
Kiryn glanced up and hurriedly stepped aside.
“Sorry,” he said, with an embarrassed smile. “My friend isn’t picking up.”
“That’s okay, I can let you in.”
He filed away the code she keyed in as he said “appreciate it.”
She gave him a little half-wave as she entered the elevator; he returned it as he opened the door to the stairs. Instead of climbing, however, he ducked into the shadows beneath them and took a look at the security system.
It wasn’t bad, not by a long shot, but he’d gotten around harder systems for less important people. It took less than thirty seconds to slip under the security firewalls and upload a virus that would loop the video as he went by. Anyone watching would see empty stairs.
All fifteen flights of them.
Maybe he should have taken the elevator.
Fifteen flights gave him a long time to think. He should upgrade his omni-tool. Top-of-the-line in the Hegemony tended to be middling quality anywhere else, even if you went through the black market. He should find a more comprehensive map of the Citadel, and find which areas were the dangerous ones. Experience told him that the law was likely concentrated at the Presidium, and got more diluted the further away you went.
Equally important was finding an easy way in and out of the refugee camp. Sarah had been right about the Citadel’s priorities. The guards at the doors were very concerned with who came and went. Security reasons, they claimed, when anyone could tell it was because they didn’t want the grubby little refugees actually on the Citadel, just in case they bothered the locals or, god forbid, started to think they could make a home here.
Dad would have had a conniption, he thought, and nearly missed a step in his surprise.
Perhaps he should be less surprised. Keris was alive. Of course that would drag those thoughts to the surface.
Thomas Shepard had very strong opinions about duty and responsibility, especially in regards to officers of the law. Kiryn had heard quite a few rants about what should happen to public servants who did not serve the public. Dad didn’t much approve of soldiers, either. Armies were built on the promise of protecting the people, and politicians turned them into tools for their own ends.
What would he think of his daughter joining the Navy?
Soldiers hunt soldiers, but Shepards hunt--
Kiryn stopped, midstep. He couldn’t remember. It had practically been the family motto, and he couldn’t remember. He could remember sitting at the table during dinner, his father gesturing with his fork, a four-way eyeroll between the Shepard children…
Shepards hunt...
This was pointless. What did it matter? He had more important things to do than try and remember things like that.
Besides, he was on the fifteenth floor. He checked again that the video was still looping correctly. That was a lesson you only had to learn once. As soon as he was sure it was safe, he pushed open the door and stepped confidently into the hallway. Not that it mattered -- but if anyone opened their door unexpectedly, he didn’t want to appear suspicious.
The door to apartment 15B opened as soon as he touched it.
Genetic sequence recognized.
It was a paranoid individual who used gene coded locks on their front door. He supposed Commander Shepard would have a lot of enemies.
Kiryn stepped inside and stopped dead, eyes wide. Oh, this was very, very far from the prefab housing on Mindoir. Filomet’s estate had been quite high status, thanks to the work Kiryn did for him, but it seemed downright spartan in comparison to this.
Filomet certainly didn’t have an indoor waterfall, that was for sure.
Or a hot tub.
For a few minutes he didn’t do much searching, just wandered around taking it all in. When he did start, it was a little disappointing. The apartment had a strange, semi-empty feeling that had nothing to do with it being new. Like a hotel, he thought. The art was tasteful and impersonal. All the furniture matched.
It was a place to stay, not a place to live.
The apartment was definitely inhabited, though, and by more than one person. There was food in the fridge and the cabinets, chirality carefully delineated by colored tape and, on occasion, sharpie. DEXTRO COFFEE, DO NOT DRINK, KAIDAN THIS MEANS YOU promised a very interesting story. The beds were made, but rumpled; there were a variety of products in the (three!) bathrooms.
The master bedroom felt no more lived in. There was a credit chit and a datapad on the bedside table, but no pictures, no clutter. At last Kiryn hit paydirt in the walk-in closet: a weapons table and an armor locker.
From the scattered mods and spare parts he could see she carried multiple firearms, but favored assault rifles and shotguns -- she liked it up close and personal. There were a few melted pieces that suggested she had a tendency to push her thermal clips a little too far. Kiryn felt a warm sensation in his chest. Fondness. In this way, at least, Keris had not changed.
Kiryn opened the locker. Her armor was black, but a deep black that would stand out anywhere but a sealed bunker underground. The crisp white and red stripes seemed to glow in contrast. Kiryn picked up the chest plate and nearly dropped it again. It was hard to imagine Keris could walk in this, let alone fight!
He tilted the chest plate this way and that, watching the lustrous finish shine in the light. Keris was the target. She sacrificed speed and mobility for armor that could brush off anything short of cannon fire, drawing the attention and the danger to herself, hitting the enemy head on like a battering ram.
Yes, that sounded very like Keris.
Kiryn nearly smiled as he put the armor back in place.
There were spare clothes in the drawers, but only two items hanging in the closet: a dress uniform, and an actual dress. Beneath them, shiny parade shoes and a pair of sensible black heels a full two inches higher than he’d ever seen Keris wear in his life.
The dress was the only really nice piece of clothing Keris owned, although Kiryn personally thought she could have found a nicer one. (The neckline alone was fifty years out of date, and he wasn’t even going to touch on those red highlighting lines.) There were a scant few articles of non-regulation clothing; by the looks of things she wore her crewman’s uniform even on her days off. That was...worrying. He didn’t remember her being much of a peacock, but she wouldn’t wear the same outfit twice in two weeks, let alone every single day. Kiryn never cared--
No. No, it was the other way around, wasn’t it?
Kiryn was the one who had cared. He’d spend an hour in the bathroom just doing his hair. He was the one who made sure his shoes matched his outfit; who complained about pale skin making it impossible to wear yellow without looking jaundiced. Keris would just throw on whatever her hand touched first, and dutifully go back and change when he told her for the fifth time, Ker, you can’t wear two kinds of stripes at once!
But she’d always liked it when they matched.
Kiryn looked down and brushed a hand over his shirt - dark gray, long sleeves, close fitting. It wasn’t all that different from what he wore on a job, minus some padding. He didn’t have much room to judge, did he? You could argue that slaves didn’t exactly have access to the latest fashions or the funds to buy them with. But he hadn’t been a slave for almost a year, and he hadn’t changed anything about his appearance.
He even still shaved his head.
Kiryn closed the drawers and walked away, not liking the tightness in his chest those thoughts brought on.
The first bug went in the office by the computer, before he tried to crack Keris’ password. It wasn’t any of the ones he remembered, so he had to let his omnitool take over. While he did so, he poked around in the boxes scattered around the room. Keris -- or someone else -- was halfway through taking down or putting up a collection of books and medals. He looked at the medals, but they didn’t match the accolades Keris was supposed to have earned. One of the books looked heavily used; he flipped it open. To David, so you can have another kind of adventure. Love, Kaylie.
David. Who was David? The tabloids made enough of a fuss over Keris’ imaginary paramours, surely they would have mentioned it if she was actually seeing someone.
For that matter, who was Kaylie?
His omnitool flashed, notifying him that the hack was complete. He checked to see the password -- I<3Garrus. Hopefully the contents of her computer would be able to solve that little mystery.
Kiryn set his program to download anything not labelled confidential, urgent, or as being sent from the Alliance. He had no interest in top secret projects and black ops missions. The program cheerfully informed him that it wouldn’t take long, as his requests filtered out almost the entire backlog.
Most people would advise against poking around in your sister’s extranet browsing history, but Kiryn was willing to risk it. No luck there either. The last time she’d used the computer was almost a month ago, mostly to read news articles and browse furniture catalogues.
Kiryn wasn’t sure if it was more frustrating or concerning. His sister didn’t seem to do much outside of… being Commander Shepard. Even saviors of the galaxy had to have free time. Didn’t she ever take shore leave?
What do you like to do?
It didn’t seem right. It was… logical that he would end up this way. But Keris was free. She had been able to choose. Why would she choose to be like...like him? If he had been free, would he still have ended up like this? No life, no purpose, no existence outside of his work?
With a whole galaxy on her shoulders, maybe she’d felt there wasn’t time for anything else. Maybe now that it was all over, things would be different for her.
Maybe they should be different for him, too.
The rest of the apartment was unhelpfully empty. He left his last bug in the kitchen, and made a mental note to get more. Alcohol loosened tongues; it would be good to have an ear at the bar. Feeling a little disappointed, Kiryn could only hope that the emails would be more enlightening.
He forwent the shuttle to the refugee camp in favor of walking. He had some things to pick up, after all. And it was harder to be introspective when he walked. Too much to focus on in the real world.
A new omni-tool, as he’d promised himself, although it would take a few hours of voiding the warranty to get it to do the things he needed it to do. Some mods for his sniper rifle -- the Hegemony was wrong about a lot of things, and the superiority of Batarian State Arms was now very high on his list. He’d have to find someplace out of sight where he could work on his gun, though.
Kiryn was pondering whether renting a hotel room for a few hours for the privacy to work on his very illegal rifle was as ridiculous as it sounded, when he saw something that made him stop.
The store was called Terran. It sold clothes. Nice clothes that looked to be good quality, from this distance. Suits and dresses and casual wear. And leather jackets.
He’d been saving up for one before…before. Had it all picked out, knew exactly what he wanted. It cost a lot of money to ship out to little colonies in the middle of nowhere. He’d barely been halfway to his goal when…
Why shouldn’t he buy one now? He had the money. He could wear whatever he wanted to, now.
Kiryn began to walk towards the store, but a few feet away, he froze.
He didn’t need another jacket. It had no tactical advantage over what he already had. And how could he explain it when he got back to the camp? Refugees didn’t wear things like that any more than slaves did.
Kiryn stared at his reflection in the storefront window. The pale, drawn face so carefully free of emotion. Placid eyes like green glass, hooded and empty. There was no way to tell by looking at him that he was one of the most feared assassins in batarian space. The blood on his hands was invisible to everyone but himself. Everything about him faded into the background, and that was by design and necessity.
He turned on his heel and headed for the shuttle. The sooner he got back to the camp, the sooner he could check Keris’ emails.
#mass effect#commander shepard#femshep#dudeshep#twin au#alternate universe fic#i'm sorry it's so late i got sick orz
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Kidnapped!Q
Don’t we 00Q shippers love a good kidnapped!Q story. Here’s my take on an attempted kidnapping story.
Available on AO3 look for handle Psychopersonified.
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Friday 10:00am
The buildings’ security system pings his phone ::Lobby Alert::
Frowning, Q sets down the steaming mug of ginger tea. He was looking forward to the steam helping clear his congested sinuses. He’s developed a cold over the last couple of days, and medical sent him home yesterday for an early weekend.
He goes to the tablet mounted on the wall and pulls up the security feeds. There’s no one in the lobby which is a little strange. Movement in the next window catches his eye. It’s the hallway camera looking down the length of his floor, one of the lifts just opened and three men in paramedic uniform steps out. Curious. Who on his floor is requiring assistance? Wait, shouldn’t the doorman be escorting them? Belatedly he realises the men have stopped at his door...
They don’t even bother with a perfunctory knock. Q sees the police style door ram before he even hears the equipment colliding with his door. The door frame splinters inwards but holds. It is reinforced to buy him time but will not hold indefinitely. The loud crash sends a jolt of adrenaline into his sluggish system.
He springs into action, punching the panic button on the wall next to the tablet. It should send a signal to police and MI6. Q then grabs his MI6 laptop and turns it over. On the bottom is a red tab sticking out of a slot and he yanks at it - hard. It is the quick release mechanism for the hard drive - allowing the user to remove the hard drive quickly in an emergency. Pulling it also mechanically rips the chip from the board, damaging it hopefully beyond recovery. It also triggers a self destruct code in the laptop to wipe any remaining RAM. He designed the mechanism himself after the Istanbul fiasco and is now standard for all field issued laptops.
He pockets the remains of the hard drive just in case along with his phone and runs into the bedroom. One of the windows here open to the fire escape. He looks around the room and grabs the nearest coat he sees.
He makes it to the bottom of the fire escape just as the front door bursts open. Shit, shit, shit. He runs down the back alley and emerges onto the main street a block away - activating the tracking and distress signal on his watch as he does.
His phone buzzes not even a minute later, he knows it is MI6. He swipes answer without hesitation.
“Q? Are you alright? We received two distress beacons registered to you a few minutes ago.” He recognises R’s voice immediately.
“Mayday, not a drill. Three assailants, they came in though the front door.” Q blurts out. The professional words belying the panic rising within.
“Police are on their way as we speak. Where are you?”
“I’m no longer in my residence, hostiles in pursuit. Taking southbound route towards rendezvous point. Do you have me on camera?” He’s panting from the run.
“Yes we see you.” That gives Q a little comfort. He needs to stay within view of the CCTVs.
“The assailants?” Q inquires still running down the street.
“Two on foot. Appears to be searching for you. Turning the corner.“
There is short crackle through the speakers and 007 joins the line. His comfortingly familiar voice comes over the phone,“Q? Stop running.”
“What??” Q’s chest is tight, his congested airways making it hard to breathe. The instruction is counterintuitive.
“Stop running.” 007 repeats, Q recognises Bond’s tone of controlled annoyance. “Slow down. Walk at brisk pace. Put on the coat, it’ll disguise you.”
Q complies. The coat is too big, it isn’t his. But that’s probably even better.
“Trust me, Q-..,” Bond assures, “..-that’s it. Good.” He must be watching the video feed. “At the next opportunity cross the street. Do not run. Do not look back. Keep your head down,” comes the next set of instructions from Bond.
“How much longer till the extraction team gets here? I don’t know if I can make it to the rendezvous point. I can hardly breathe,” his lungs are burning. The cold air not helping his already constricted airways.
Q tries his best to follow Bond’s instructions. The temptation to look back and get a relative bearing on his assailants is overwhelming. But if he turns back, it will make it easier for them to spot him.
“ETA 8 mins,” R supplies over the line.
“We’re on our way, and police should be there before us,” Q can hear Bond’s voice sounding like he’s on the move; a few moments later, muffled sirens wail in the background. He wills himself to calm. Pulling in one stuttered breath at the time.
Breathe, walk, repeat. Eight.minutes.more...
A few minutes later, R pipes up, “Q, they’ve turned into the same street. 100 meters. Try and blend in with the crowd best you can.” Shit. Q turns up the collar on Bond’s coat to hide more of his face.
“Q, do you have anything on you that can be used as a weapon?” 007 asks.
Q checks his trouser pockets. There’s just the hard drive he pulled.. and a Waitrose receipt. The watch he’s wearing has no weapons capabilities. Then he pats down Bond’s coat- something slim and hard is in the inside pocket. He removes it. Its an unexpectedly heavy silver pen.
“Umm… only things I have on me is the hard drive... my phone, my watch and your pen,” Q’s voice catches in desperation.
“My pen?” Bond prompts for clarification.
“Y…Yes. Silver pen in your navy wool coat. Off the back of the bedroom door.” Fuck. In the back of his mind, he’s mortified that he’s revealed something so personal over the comms. Their relationship isn’t a secret; its probably the worst kept secret in MI6 - but its not official either.
R’s voice cuts in, “-50 meters… shit, looks like they are heading straight for you.”
“Q...listen carefully. That pen is from Q-Branch. Recognise it?” Now that Bond has mentioned it, Q realises it does look familiar. The lack of air is not helping with his cognitive abilities.
“Which one is it? Ss-sorry that was months ago. I can’t recall at the moment.” He really can’t, his head is starting to hurt.
“Its alright... It’s the taser version.“ Bond’s voice is infuriatingly calm.
“30 meters,” R updates.
“Q…shift the pen to your dominant hand. Prime the pen, remember how you showed me? In a few moments, when you feel a hand on you, turn around and twist away perpendicular to where he’s coming from, jab the pen anywhere you can reach, the face or neck if you can-.”
“20 meters.” R’s tone is urgent now.
“...Then run as fast as you can in the direction you were going. We’re just coming up to the bottom of the street. Can you do that?“
No! - “Yes… turn, jab and run”. Q swaps the phone and pen in his hands.
“10 meters.”
“Get ready.” Bond’s voice is steel.
“NOW!” R’s warning shocks him into action.
Q ducks and twists around, the attacker barely has a grip on the collar of the coat. The action catches the attacker off-guard. Q then swings his arm around and jabs the pen under the man’s jaw, the tip lodging into the soft flesh there. A little more pressure and the pen discharges, sending the attacker spasming backwards and dropping him instantly.
The motion throws Q off balance momentarily and he looses his grip; phone clattering to the ground. But he recovers an instant later. Q turns back and makes a run for it, pelting down the busy street as fast has he can.
He can hear the screech of tyres and sirens up ahead. He sees a familiar dark green Range Rover and black Jaguar sedan skid to a stop, blocking the end of the street.
So close. He looks back over his shoulder to see the second attacker just meters behind and gives his legs a last push.
Ahead, he sees the doors of the vehicles fling open, agents swarming out. He doesn’t have time to slow down so he uses his momentum to launch himself over the bonnet of the Jag - sliding on his hip across it to land in a crouch on the other side, sandwiched between the Jag and Range Rover.
Behind him, he hears the sounds of punches and kicks being thrown. A choked groan of pain and a crunch of bones. Slightly further away, there’s the sound of agents calling out to a third assailant to stand down.
He thinks to pear over the bonnet, but ducks again when he hears, “Get down!” followed by the rapid pop of gunshots. Then all hell breaks loose. People screaming and scattering causing absolute confusion.
Over the gunfire, he hears, “Sir! Q! Get in!” An agent is standing over him and herding him towards the rear door of the Jag.
He crouch-crawls his way to the back of the sedan keeping low. The agent shuts the heavy bulletproof door after him. A few seconds later another agent enters from the opposite door, throwing himself into the passenger seat next to Q and shutting the door. The Jag peels away immediately.
Q exhales shakily after a minute. Finally taking stock of his surroundings. He can see Tanner’s familiar profile in the front driver seat, eyes on the road, weaving through traffic.
“Alright?” the agent sitting next to him asks. Q turns his head, it’s Bond. Relief washes over him and it’s all he can do not to launch himself into Bond’s lap. He nods in acknowledgement.
Bond reaches across to squeeze his knee. The briefest of touches. He notices the fresh abrasions on the back of Bond’s knuckles.
“Third assailant managed to escape. Police are in pursuit. The other two are in custody,” R’s voice comes over the speaker.
“Received. Principle secured, we’re in transit.” Tanner replies.
“R, do we know who they are yet? Links to anyone?” Bond asks.
“Nothing so far. Facial recognition is still running. CCTV shows an ambulance arriving outside Q’s building. The assailants posed as paramedics to gain entry. Once inside, they shot the plain-clothes police officer stationed there. They had a collapsible gurney with them too. We’re assuming that was how they intended to move Q once they’ve incapacitated him. It would not arouse suspicion.”
Bond takes a deep breath, the only break in his cool and collected armour. Hearing the details was difficult. Too close. Too damned close.
The Jag pulls up at MI6, Tanner using the underground entrance. He parks the car in Mallory’s spot, close to the tunnel that houses the lifts, only then does Q realise the Jag is M’s government car.
Tanner and Bond get out of the car. Bond crossing behind the car to open Q’s door. Q feels odd - his limbs sluggish, uncompliant and cold. Belatedly he thinks he’s in shock. It must have shown, because Bond reaches in to gently clamp his fingers around Q’s bicep and slowly help him out.
They make it into the lift with Q increasingly leaning on Bond to keep himself standing. Why does his lungs still feel like they cant get enough air?
The lift doors open and Q all but tumbles out into the lift lobby. His vision tunnels and the colours wash out. That’s the moment he crashes.
“Q!” Bond lowers him onto the marble floor. Taking care to cushion his head.
Tanner is already on his phone, barking at medical to send a team, “Level 5 lobby stat!”
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Update: Part 2 here
Notes: Yes, prompted by that No Time to Die trailer. But this story doesn't take place in that universe so to speak. Was thinking to use this for the imaginary Q Netflix series I’m writing.
If you’re interested:
Series 1 Pilot here.
Series 2 Episode 1 & 2 here. And Episode 3.
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current mood is older!duncan being way rough with you, fucking you so hard and covering your mouth with his giant hand telling you to shut up and just take him like a good little girl and afterwards when ur shaking he pulls you close on his lap and just kisses all over your face telling you how well you behave for him and how much he loves his strong girl 🥰
Word Count: 1.4k
Your hair was matted to your forehead and neck, back clinging onto the sweat (and cum)-soaked, silk sheets as Duncan hovered over you, his own hair hanging low enough to brush across your skin each time he drilled his hips into yours. He’d been at this for what felt like hours now, coaxing orgasm after mind-blowing orgasm through your body after a rather interesting interaction you had at dinner with one of his colleagues.
Duncan consumed you in every way. His broad, toned body and natural heat surrounding you, his brawny arms at either side of your head, his crystal blue eyes now turned a dark navy boring holes into your own, his thick, veiny cock relentlessly splitting you in half. The older man on top of you had refused to let up his pace, refused to listen to your pleads that you were too overstimulated to continue, refused to let your swollen, abused cunt rest as he stretched you open further than he ever had before. No, Duncan refused to stop until you were pumped so full of his hot, milky seed that all you think about, all you could dream about, was him.
Your next orgasm loomed deep within your belly, as impossible as it seemed (How many had you had now? Three? Four? You’d given up focusing on anything but the obscene squelching that was produced by Duncan ramming himself into your soaking wet walls). It blossomed, slowly but surely, when you felt one of Duncan’s hands creep from the side of your face down to the base of your throat.
“You gonna cum again for me, love?” he taunted you in between his own breathless pants.
All you could do was squirm beneath him as he continued his assault on your pussy. Sweat ran from your forehead and into your hairline as you stared back up at him with a strained, agonizing expression.
Duncan raised his brow at you, giving your neck a quick but intense squeeze as he waited for your response.
“I don’t think I can, Duncan,” you managed to get out between cries, paying no regard to the tears that now flowed freely from the corners of your eyes each time Duncan filled you to the hilt.
You heard Duncan click his tongue at you in disapproval, curling his lip up in a devious grin.
“Oh, honey-” he lifted his front from your chest, but not his cock from your cunt, as he leaned over the edge of the bed, fumbling in the top drawer of the nightstand to retrieve the purple vibrating wand that he initially bought for you to use when he was away on business, but frequently began introducing when you were together.
“-Yes you can.”
Your body felt on fire as he turned on the toy and nestled it in between your engorged clit, swollen from being rubbed first by Duncan’s skilled fingers and again by the base of his pubic bone every time he bottomed out inside of you, and your seeping entrance, so that both you and Duncan felt the vibrations as he began to work his way back up to his brutal pace of fucking you senseless.
A string of grunts and expletives spewed from Duncan’s lips as he fought his own urges to cum, determined first and foremost to prove his point to you that you belonged to him and him alone.
As if it were possible, your mewls grew louder, whinier and high pitched as Duncan increased the intensity of the vibrations, tightening the coil in your belly by tenfold.
“Duncan,” you whimpered through gritted teeth.
“I really can’t.”
You were begging, pleading for him to let up on you. The vibrations were almost painful against your red, irritated cunt, but they were pleasurable nonetheless. As you’d expected, your request went unfulfilled as Duncan snarled, turning the vibrator up to the highest intensity.
He lifted his free arm that had been digging into your hip to keep you still right up to your whiny mouth, where he promptly clamped down over it, ceasing any and all of the pathetic cries that ripped from your lungs. His full weight rested on his hand, meaning you were pushed further and deeper into the mattress by his grip.
Duncan rested his head in between the crook of your shoulder and neck, still thrusting in tandem with the wand’s vibrations as he began to lead you to your next release.
“I know you can, baby. Come on, just one more time for me,” he grunted in your ear before he mouthed sloppily at the sensitive skin on your throat.
“You feel so fucking good, angel. Need you to cum for me-” Duncan stopped suddenly as a guttural moan ripped from deep within his chest at the sensation of your cunt clenching around the swollen head of his cock.
His actions triggered something inside of you, made you begin to feel the threads of the band of your belly fray, but not completely snap just yet. You continued to whimper against his hand that covered your lips, slowly grinding yourself against the head of the vibrator and skewering yourself deeper onto Duncan’s cock.
“That’s it. I can feel how bad you want it. Just let go for me, Y/N. Be a good girl and let go for me.”
After a handful of sloppy, yet excruciatingly intense thrusts, you felt it. White spots clouded your vision and for a moment you lost consciousness as your final orgasm washed over you, the bands finally snapping and being set free from their binds.
“C’mon, shake for me, baby. That’s my good girl.”
Duncan kept his hand pressed firmly against your mouth still as he fucked you through your release and into his own, where he promptly filled you up for what felt like the hundredth time that night. His cum seeped from your cunt, overflowing inside of you when he pulled his (finally) softening cock from the home he had made inside of your overworked walls.
The vibrations from the wand ceased instantly when Duncan clicked the power button, and you heard the thud of the toy being tossed somewhere beyond your reach in the vastness of Duncan’s oversized bed. Before rolling off of you, Duncan pulled his hand from your face to kiss you passionately. You felt the corners of his mouth turn up just slightly against your lips, satisfied in knowing he’d made a proper mess out of you. He rested his forehead on yours when he pulled back so that your noses just barely brushed against each other, the thumping of your steadying heartbeat filling his ears.
As his back hit the mattress, he pulled you into his side, hiking your leg up to rest on his stomach. You felt a trickle of the remnants of Duncan’s seed pour out of you and onto the comforter you laid on, though you paid it no mind. Duncan (his assistant, rather) was no stranger to sticky sheets or the dry cleaners located near his office.
“Thank you. So much. You did so well.”
Duncan ran his fingers along the edge of your spine that was still coated in the veil of sweat that was his own doing.
“That guy at dinner really got under your skin, hmm?” you asked in between pants.
“Well, I can’t have you running off with some boy your own age, now. Can I? Had to show you what you’d be missing,” he chuckled, rubbing the evident exhaustion from his eyes with his forefingers.
“Don’t you think I would have done that a long time ago if I wanted to?”
“I suppose,” Duncan’s voice trailed off mid-sentence, and it got even quieter when he finished his thought.
“I just...don’t know what I’d do if you left.”
Your heart pinged with sadness at Duncan’s confession, though you felt the same exact way. It had always lurked in the back of your brain, the thought of Duncan finding someone even younger than you or even someone his own age for that matter. Knowing Duncan was in this for the long haul made his brutal assault on your cunt just moments ago make perfect sense. He wanted you forever, and wanted, needed to make sure that you knew it.
“Well,” you paused to shimmy up his torso and press a gentle kiss to his temple.
“It’s a good thing you’re stuck with me forever, then.”
Your fingers found their way into his hair, where you lovingly brushed the stray pieces out of his face, relishing in the way the silver strands glimmered in the light peeking through the blinds.
“Sounds fine by me,” Duncan grinned up at the ceiling, pulling you closer in his grasp.
//
Tagging some Duncan whores since she’s a longer one 😌
@avesatanormalpeoplescareme (smh) @lvngdvns @divinelangdon
#duncan shepherd x reader#duncan shepherd smut#duncan shepherd fanfiction#duncan shepherd#duncan shepherd one shot#michael langdon x reader#michael langdon smut#asks#blurb#my writing
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AU!Racer Chris
Hello Thirsty ❤️ Pegao mv gave me racer Chris vibes and your bitch can't act like a normal person anymore 🙈 So like imagine. Sex with Chris on top of a car in the rain after his win. Queen if you find time, after school and when you have everything done, could you write that for me ? That's me. One day I ask for church PG fic, and then something like that pops in my mind 😂 Xoxo your bestie (btw I'm Julia, I think you should know name of this crazy bitch)❤️ Love ya
Masterlist
“On your set...Get ready...go!” A girl screamed as she waved a white tee shirt down
Your boyfriend’s red car sped away so fast you could have sworn he was traveling at the speed of light. It was three loops around an abandoned track with Chris in the lead. He was in red, his enemy in yellow, and one of his friends drove a black car. For the first loop, Chris was in the lead, with the yellow sports car on his tail. As the suspense built up raindrops began to fall from the sky. For the second loop, the yellow car was getting dangerously close to Chris’s making Chris swerve a little bit. The yellow sports car was neck to neck with him for the final round as you felt the raindrops begin to hit your skin. You held your breath for the whole final round as it began to pour cats and dogs. Chris ended up winning by a millisecond making the crowd roar in excitement. He got out of the car smiling ear to ear as he embraced you in a warm hug.
“Nena, did you see that?” He grinned as he released you from his grip
“I did!” You cheered “you had me worried for a sec though Velez”
“I knew what I was doing nena” He cockily spoke “wait in the car for me? I need to grab the win”
You nodded getting in the passager seat and watching from the rearview mirror as Chris talked to some guys and was handed a bag of money. He jogged back towards the car throwing the money in the back seat and pulled you in for a kiss. His soft lips molded into yours as the rain banged against the windshield. You breathing hitched as he pulled your bottom lip and sped away. One hand lingered on your upper thigh, drawing idle patterns on your exposed skin. His fingers stayed dangerously close to your clothed entrance creating a pool of arousal to form. Chris drove his car under the bridge of a freeway and removed his hand from you.
“Get out nena I need you” he groaned as you saw his brown eyes drained in lust
“Chris” you whined “its cold”
You got out of the car and leaned on the hood as the warm engine kept you partially warm. Chris moved in between your legs and groaned as his hands held your outer thighs playing with the hem of your navy blue leather skirt. You wrapped your arms around the nape of his neck and tugged on his lower locks. He lowered his lips to yours continuing what he started in the car. His hands slid up and grabbed the waistband of your panties waiting for the right moment to tear them off you. This time you broke off the kiss to catch your breath and nip at his neck.
“What are you waiting for?” you mumbled against his skin sending vibrations to his nerves “just fuck me already”
He pulled down your panties shoving them in his back pocket as he unzipped his pants
“Turn around nena I wanna see that pretty ass of yours” he growled as he helped you off his car
You turned around and leaned back down on the car with one leg up on the hood. His fingers ran through your soaked slit and pressed down on your swollen pearl making a moan erupt from your throat.
“Chris- oh my god” you whimpered as he shoved two fingers in and pumped roughly
“That’s it nena let me hear your pretty noises” he groaned as he curled his fingers
“More” you whined as you squirmed under his touch
“Such a needy little slut” he smirked
Chris pulled out of you and teased your slit with his rock hard cock, hitting your swollen pearl each time.
“Chris” you whined again this time bucking your hips
“Nena” he growled as he thrusted inside you making your mouth hang agape as endless moans erupted from your vocal cords
The car moved back and forth as he roughly snapped his hips sending you to the stars.
“You like it when I fuck you in public?” he growled as his hand wrapped around your neck
“Yes” you moaned as both your clothes became soaked by the rain
His hand tightened slightly as skin slapped against skin.
“Such a naughty slut nena” Chris grunted
“Only for you papi” you moaned back as you grinded against him
Chris adjusted his hips by a little bit and rammed harder into you. You screamed out as he hit your inner sweet spot making your mind fog up and forget how to speak. A knot tied up inside you as he let go of your throat and tugged on your hair.
“Close already nenita?” he huffed as his hand came flying down to your ass
You couldn’t even say a coherent word, as your walls tightened around him one last time before your knot snapped. Your eyes rolled back as your thighs quivered and back arched.
“Chris” you screamed out as the words came flying back into your mouth
Chris was close behind you, spilling his warm seed inside you. His thrusts slowed down as he slowly pulled out of you with some of his cum spilling out.
“Holy fuck nena” he panted
“Finish this at home?” you grinned wanting to take off your drenched clothes and have him all to yourself
#cnco smut#christopher velez#cnco#chris velez#chris#christopher#velez#Christopher velez smut#chris velez smut#smut#imagine#fic#au cnco#racer chris#good night#im very sleepy#boyband smut#boyband
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3: flowers (ladrien)
AO3
The florist closes in ten, Adrien’s just under twelve minutes away and the Gorilla is currently doing 112 kmh through the bustling streets of Paris to get him there before the store locks.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, he thinks to himself, window rolled down and his head sticking out the window a bit unsafely.
The Gorilla glances at him through the rear-view mirror and grunts.
Adrien knows he means business from the tone of it and settles into cushioned seat of the Mercedes-Benz. He rests his folded arms over the soft flap of the window, chin atop them.
Paris flutters by in its pristine glory, shops upon shops, bakeries upon bakeries, people upon people. Lots of people that Adrien studies casually as he taps his fingers idly against the warm metal of the car.
An orange-pink sky is slowly being tinkered away by midnight blue, a waning crescent tickling the edges of the sun out of view. Lingering remnants of summer and warm fill the air, clinging to his skin, his face, the interior leather seats, even the flaps on the window.
17:55 the clock reads, tick tick tick edging into Adrien’s anxiety like a knife.
He knows the Gorilla can’t drive faster. He understands that it’s his fault for taking his sweet time dressing and undressing in different outfits. Plagg reminds him of it with a small snicker that’s not heard to his bodyguard.
Max has told him time and time again that statistically speaking, the better chance he has of woo’ing a potential partner is to show he cares. Now he wonders whether his messily slicked-back hair, white button-up tucked into navy shorts and birkenstocks is overkill.
Too late to go back and change, so Adrien rolls with it, plucking a loose strand of hair off his forehead before leaving it with a pout. ‘No matter how much gel I put in it, that piece always lets gravity win.”
His comment pulls an unusual grin out of the Gorilla.
17:59 and the Gorilla is skidding to a stop, Adrien hauling his ass out of the car and into the aesthetically-pleasing flower shop. Flowers upon flowers, beautifully-colored ones that are vibrant against the shops dark paneling fill his vision.
It’s overwhelming and his brain hurts from overstimulation.
An elder florist dressed in a light and airy skirt turns the corner and shocks Adrien enough for him to nearly fall over, steadying himself on the counter closest to him. It’s filled with bright colored peonies and hydrangeas he almost knocks off, fumbling to catch the beautifully arranged assortments.
“You look lost,” the florist quips with a hint of amusement on her otherwise stoic face.
“I am in desperate need of help,” Adrien replies, eyes wide as he scans the excessive amount of flowers and arrangements and it’s all too much oh my god.
Said florist tilts her head to the side, tapping a patient foot on the ground. “Are you looking to send threatening flowers? Because that’s not really my thing,” she pauses, leaning in with twinkling eyes. “If you pay me a little extra, though…”
“No, oh god no, it’s just—It’s a special day for this girl I really care about and I want to show her how much I care, if that makes sense.” Shuffingly awkwardly in place, Adrien’s hands twist into one another to stop himself from touching his neck. “I don’t want to go overboard either, even though I think she deserves every flower in this shop.”
“If you’re not careful enough, you might accidentally send her threatening flowers with that mindset,” Agnés—her name tag reads as she approaches him—tells him with slanted eyebrows. “Alright, lover boy. I’ve got you covered.”
Please still be here, please still be here, please—
Oh dieu merci, Adrien thinks as he slows his breathing from running across the Champ de Mars. Decorations scatter around the vicinity, Ladybug and Chat Noir themed merchandise lining the park in mobile kiosks. Balloons with their faces being held by small, crying children with overjoyous parents.
Heroes’ Day is a time of celebration, filled with joy and love and happiness that warms Adrien to the brim. Him and Ladybug, plus all of the temporary miraculous holders, share in festivities that reminds the population of Paris that their savours are still human, like them.
The extra time spent with Ladybug each year is an added bonus.
Adrien left the celebrations a little early to find the Gorilla, grab his flower for Ladybug, and take off into a sprint across the grassed field behind tour Eiffel to catch her before she left.
Ladybug rounds the corner after signing a civilian’s signature book, clearly ready to leave, when Adrien calls her name loud enough for her to hear him. “Ladybug!”
They practically bump into each other as they both try to round the corner synchronously. Ladybug’s eyes widen as she takes note of him and his trajectory, digging her feet into the ground to stop the seemingly inevitable crash.
It doesn’t happen.
Before either of them can ram into one another, Adrien’s free hand lands on Ladybug’s shoulder and halts their movements, warmth flooding to his cheeks.
His hands burn, his cheeks burn, his whole body burns now that he’s here.
‘Adrien Agreste?” Her voice is stricken and slightly shrill, so unlike the Ladybug he knows and has come to love that he almost—keyword being almost—laughs.
“H-Hi Ladybug,” he says, dumbly, cursing himself for acting so starstruck around her. Get ahold of yourself, idiot, this is your partner for crying-out-loud!
“Hello,” she replies a bit unsurely, her own cheeks matching her suit color. “Is everything okay?”
No. You’re too pretty for me to think clearly. “Yes. I have something for you,” Adrien spits out, cringing internally at how blunt he is sometimes. “I wanted to get you something for Heroes’ Day—”
A smile grows on her face, a slow rise akin to a blooming flower. “That’s so sweet, Adrien! You really didn’t have to!”
Shrugging his shoulders, the hand behind his back appears in front of him, showcasing his flower for her to see.
It’s a red hibiscus with coral undertones, so vibrant in color it rivals that of her suit. The flower is encased in a small paper cup with intertwining colorful designs on it, soil and all. “I didn’t want to buy a pot for it because I wanted you to find one that suited your room, or something,” he trails off dumbly at the expression on her face, slightly panicking. “If you don’t like it, I can always get you another? I mean, the florist I went to doesn’t open until tomorrow, but—”
“—Adrien,” Ladybug interrupts, her hand finding his bicep with a pretty smile on her face that has Adrien’s stomach soaring. “Please, it’s perfect. Don’t you take this flower away from me.”
Adrien chokes at her words, eyes dipping to glance at her hand before they raise to meet hers, except—
She’s leaning in.
Time stops. Adrien’s lucky his grip on the cup is tight as Ladybug’s soft, plump lips graze his cheek. Her lips touch the corner of his mouth and it sends shocks through his body as she takes the paper cup from him. “Thank you. This is one of the nicest gifts anyone’s ever gotten me.”
“Am I dead?” His brain-to-mouth filter is gone, eyes widening in mortification at her giggle—the cutest giggle he’s ever heard.
“Not yet, no,” Ladybug tells him through her quiet laughs, blinking up at him through her eyelashes. “As much as I would love to stay and chat—”
Heh. Chat.
“—I must be going now. Thank you again for the flower, Adrien. It’s really lovely.”
With a surge of confidence and determination, Adrien gently grabs one of Ladybug’s gloved hands in his. Lips graze over the top of her hand, across the ridge of her knuckle and the dip where her fingers meet her hand. “Get home safe,” he whispers, smiling stupidly at her.
“I—I,” Ladybug stutters, her eyes wide and mouth ajar. “I’ve gotta go,” she squeaks out, quickly but carefully ripping her hand out of his and yo-yo’ing away.
“You two are disgusting,” Plagg grumbles in Adrien’s shirt pocket, face-palming with his tiny hands.
(Later on, Marinette buys a pot and decorates it with her paints and keeps the flower tucked away in Tikki’s garden so it lives longer).
((Tikki tells her to google the flower and Marinette has a near stroke when she realizes the symbolizing behind Adrien giving it to her)).
(((Ladybug shows up at Adrien’s house and kisses those same words into his mouth, forehead, and cheeks until he believes her))).
#adrien agreste#marinette dupain cheng#ladybug#miraculous ladybug#ladrien#lovesquarefluffweek2020#miraculous ladybug fanfiction#mine#yes okay it's a little late agrkeogarke let me live
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