#you wouldn't imagine the glee i felt thinking about this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

matchadobo · 3 months

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KIDD; overheard

wc: 2768

summary: kidd overhead virgin!freader moaning out his name

warning/s: nsfw🔞, fem reader, v1brators, first-time-s3x, cooming inside, cunnilingus, thr0at fucking, fluff in the end

you never had sex. you're a virgin. and kidd respects that. kidd had been courting you because you insist on doing it the traditional way. he just likes you so much he does sacrifices for you. he's not the type of guy who'd go through such lengths for a girl, but with you, man he'd do anything to let him love you.

you wouldn't expect that a man of his stature wouldn't talk you into having sex when you two started getting romantically involved. kidd was, of course, not a virgin. a man like him, who's built like a fucking fridge, who's tongue brings him so many places, who's charisma is unparalleled, and his overflowing sex appeal. you admit that your boyfriend is hot, and you want to know what i feels to bed him someday. he's perfectly aware of your situation and he gaves you free reign of your sexual status, he never forces you to go all the way. it's just all about touching between the both of you.

it's mostly on kidd's end when we talk about containing it. especially when you don't fix up yourself around him on domestic days. or when you don a pretty little dress.

you'd be fooling yourself if you don't wanna do more than touching and kissing with him. each time he takes his shirt off and his happy trail shows. how his muscles flex when he's reaching over something high or hugging you. you can't help but be curious of how it'd feel if he have his way with you.

so that one night where curiosity won over you, you decided to buy a vibrator since you can't find it in you to ask the guy that's been courting you and you who has been constantly insisting on taking things slow. once you're all alone, you discarded your clothes and lied on his bed. you were staying with him for the night. you could've done it in your place but, the scent of his cologne on his sheets and the sight of his things made you more aroused.

as you spread yourself on the bed, you don't know the first thing about vibrators. all you knew was how badly you wanted him, how you imagine him doing the stimulation and not this expensive fucking vibrating rod. as you felt the splurge of pleasure, you were out of this world. your eyes rolled at the back of your head and your mouth muttered his name with the filthiest intent.

little did you know, kidd was on his way back to his place. he just got off the elevator and is walking toward his unit with a handful of takeout for your date night. he was exhausted from work today and all he wanted to do was come home to you and feel you. not fully aware of your act.

"y'all fuck yet?" heat asked over the phone. kidd tsked through the call.

"if that's what the hell you're gonna talk about i'll block you." he almost hit the end call if it weren't for killer taking over.

"listen, we're just iffy about this courting thing. you always start your relationships with fucking or something." killer calmly retorted. "plus, it's been three months and you two are kind of a blur, aye? don't you think it's time to take a step much higher?"

"let me tell you freaks somethin': name is the most precious angel that ever crossed this earth, ya hear me? she ain't some whore i chase to keep my cock warm. i want to have somethin' special with her, cuz hey, she's one special lady herself." he took a deep breath before continuing, fishing out his keycard from his wallet. "ain't it enough reason to wait it out? i imagine sex with her like a good ol' scotch, aye? longer you wait, tastier it gets. i know she couldn't resist me either, the way those eyes linger ain't a wholesome thing. all the more reason the sex'll be so fuckin' sweet once she's ready." he emphasized on the last three words.

you were too lost in the glee of the stimulation, you didn't even hear the beep of his door as he got inside. as kidd settled his stuff down and calmed down by his couch, he started to wonder where you are. he roamed around his unit to find you, only to hear faint noises of your voices. they sounded like whimpers so he started getting worried and hurried to find where the sound was coming from.

he felt his dick tighten in his pants when he heard you moaning out his name loud and clear. his grasp on the plastic bag carrying your food tightened, he swallowed a hard lump down his throat. he couldn't resist barging in on you.

he would nut right then and there. when he saw you wide open right before him, you reached your climax just as he went in. your scream resounding in the room. so you sat frozen with your legs spread, one hand on the vibrator while the other played with your tits. you stopped immediately and hid yourself under his sheets, your face flushed red in sheer embarrassment. "w-what the hell?! i-i- what the fuck are you doing here, kidd?!"

he sighed before saying, "in case you didn't know; this is my room," he pulled his shirt over his head, walking a step closer to you. "and you're naked," he unbuckled his belt, getting even closer to you. "wide open." he kicked his pants away the floor, crawling by the bed. "moaning my name unbefitting of a cute little thing such as yourself." he pulled the sheets you were covering yourself with. "this much is fuckin' rich coming from someone who insists on taking it slow. your words bit you back in the ass, aye?"

you were flushed red at his proximity, your eyes shakily alternating between his. "i-i wasn't..."

"wasn't what? fucking yourself with that thing and imagining i was ramming into you?" he cocked a brow, canines tugging by his lower lip. "baby, hadn't i told you that you can just tell me if you wanna give it a go? i'm more than happy to teach ya," he gave your cheeks a soft caress.

his big hands trailed down your jaw, fingers tracing the edge of your face, down to the column of your neck until he wrapped his hands around your it and pulled you closer. eliciting a moan out of you, his grin widening. "aren't you a filthy, little slut too?"

he kissed you on your open mouth, the grip on your neck tightening. "what were you thinking about, hm?" he pressed the vibrator closer to your clit after flicking the button on. "was i too hot for you? you want me to fuck you up so bad, huh? stretch this tight, little thing wide, fucking, open." he pressed foreheads with you after licking your lips.

all you could do was pout and curl up your brows, your eyes rolling at the back of your head as you didn't even know what kind of high you're in right now. "nghh- kidd- please...!" you bit your lip, clawing at his arms.

"please what? i can stop." he gently whispered against your ear. "i can take care of mine just fine you know." he gestured to his bulging length underneath his brief. you felt yourself choke at the act, imagining how he'd be like.

"n-no!" you responded, squirming under him. he hasn't discarded the vibrator but only made it even more extreme. "k-keep going... i-i want to go all the way, okay?"

"aye." he nodded, giving you a long, wet kiss before turning the vibrator off. he ducked his head down and placed soft, gentle kisses on your inner thighs, teasing your sopping cunt by his stippled pecks. "ready?" he stared at you, his hot breath tickling your folds. you nodded with pressed lips, bracing yourself with his tongue.

he languidly dragged his tongue down the line of your folds, not breaking eye contact as he watch you squirm with only just his tongue. how you sound so much like a slut just for him. he pulled your hips closer, drowning his face within your opening and the flesh of your thighs. he hummed through you as a response to your moans, vibrations pumping through your veins. he took it a notch higher and slid a finger in. you were becoming limp at this point.

but you wanted to please him too, you want to help him with that tent in his pants. so once you pushed his head deeper and you pulled on his hair, you came in his mouth. he sipped in your juices, slurping in your cum.

"c-can i please you too?" you looked up at him with pleading eyes.

"i was just about to say that." he stood up on the bed, holding your jaw by his hands. "go ahead, love."

you hesitantly raise your hands, still looking at him. your fingers crept on his waistbands, sliding them off. his pulsating length sprung out, dripping with precum. you couldn't help but act surprise at the size of him even though you already know that he's phenomenally huge. he would already cum right then and there when he saw the enormous difference between the size of him to your face, how your eyes try to fathom how you'd fit that in your mouth and in your cunt.

you start to wrap your cold fingers around him, a gasp escaping him at your contact. you pumped unsurely, from his flushed head down to his veiny shaft. you opened your mouth and gave a kitten lick by his head, keeping an eye on him before swallowing him whole. he was so huge you gagged when you were just by the half of him.

his hands found its way to the sides of your head as he pushed his length further in your throat, relishing on the warmth of your mouth. you dug your nails by the skin of his hips, eyes watering at the impact of the head of his length touching the back of your throat. he grunted as he tried to restrain himself to let you adjust.

once you let go with a pop, strings of saliva trailed from his head to your lips. there were scattered drools on your lips, you wiped it with the back of your palm. "w-wait, i- you're too big." you giggled shyly, tucking your hair by your ear.

"yeah? sure you can handle it?" he rubbed your chin between his thumb and index, studying your expressions. "i assure you, it will be a lot fucking bigger inside you."

you gulped deeply, face heating up. so you cleared your throat, and prepped yourself to do it once more. you slowly got used to bobbing your head back and forth, the friction of your lips gliding across the surface of his veiny length. as your saliva coated his shaft, it became more slippery and easier to slide in your mouth.

kidd was cursing out words each time his cock slipped in and out of your mouth. he pushed himself further, despite your protests of drumming his hips. he pulled on your hair tightly, fucking your mouth in an unforgiving pace. once he came in your mouth, he left it there for a while, his cum dripping down your throat. you had to catch your breath as residue of cum and drool littered your chin.

he sat down before you,"for a beginner, you're goddamn amazing." he placed a kiss on your forehead then to you lips. as he kissed you fervently; his hands went from choking your neck, squeezing your tits with his palms, and rubbing on your clit as he spread your wetness from your cunt to your inner thighs. "let me spread you up for the finale." he mumbled against your open mouth which elicited breathy moans. his thigh and shoulder provided support for your frame as he fingered you open.

your hand reached over his cheek, looking at him with the most vulnerable gaze. he memorized how sinful you looked for him, how your eyes begged for more and how your mouth uttered the neediest response from his stimulation.

you pressed your forehead by his cheek as you approached your climax, clawing at his arms. he watched how your cunt clenched around his fingers at each curl and spread. you ended up breathless after you came.

but he didn't give you any chance to pause and compose yourself, he lied you down the mattress and knelt before your body. he gave his length a few pumps after spitting on it, he teased his meat on your soaking cunt; savoring how you furrow your brows and gawk at him. he spread your legs by your inner thighs, pushing your hips toward his so you two could be very close. kidd leaned down and pressed foreheads with you, "i'm putting it in, aye?" he asked for permission and you hummed. he gave your nose a little kiss before sliding himself in slowly.

"f-fuck...!" he stuttered, breathless at the tightness of your innocent cunt. he could slide in without any pain from his or your end, your walls just clench around him a lot. you too were drooling and too lost at the fullness of his cock, he's way too huge for you to fathom. "if you keep clenching like that i'm not gonna last, love. i haven't even been fully in." he panted, smiling against your cheek.

once he fully got settled, the head of his cock reached your cervix; that's how big he is. after adjusting, he began moving back and forth. it took everything in him to do it slowly, he wanted to fuck you stupid in a harsh pace. you reached for his neck, slowly lling him down to kiss him. "i-it hurts, b-baby. i-i it feels sore." you said in between kisses. "b-but don't stop, i-it feels amazing too." you smiled meekly, a single tear falling at the corner of your eye.

kidd felt motivated to refine his performance, your words were like a brush on his shoulder. he kissed your tears away before saying, "i know, bunny. i promise to only let you feel the good part, hm?"

as you fist the sheets and his grip on your waist tightened, you two slowly found rhythm. kidd adored how pleasured you look right now, to the point that you don't know what to do with yourself. you played with your tits, sucked on his fingers, clawed on his arms, covered your face with the pillows, and clutched your tummy as you grew near. he was doing all of that to you and it was the biggest turn on for him. he reached over to hold your face in his hand, then he rubbed on your lips, and finally wrapped his hands around your neck. you swallowed at the constriction on your throat, his firm hand holding you in place. his other hand was holding your leg that was swung on top of his shoulder. "you close?" he asked, hips unceasing.

you nodded, your eyes becoming swollen at the amount of tears you let out. "me too, baby. i-i'm- ngh fuck!" he too was lost for words, he felt you clench again around him, you felt him throb inside you; the vibration coursing through your veins. "do you want me to p-pull out?"

you didn't know either. it was your first time and you know the risks. but it was kidd. you want him to release inside, to keep you warm, to let his cum drip down your cunt. so you shook your head and pulled him by the neck. "cum inside, release all of it."

from your words, he came right then and there, shooting up ropes of cum inside your womb. "if we're gonna have brats, i'm done for." he panted with his forehead resting on your shoulder.

"me too, mini versions of you are a headache." you giggled a bit, kissing his ear.

"can i just stay inside?" he lied gently beside you, "you just feel so good and i want to sleep like this."

another tear streamed down your cheeks, what a goddamn softie. you nodded turning your back on him and placing your hand above his which was resting atop your stomach. "i'm glad you're my first." you blurted out, blushing afterward.

"i'm glad you're my last, shortcake."

you gave him a glare but he just giggled.

one last hc before i wage war with my exams 🥺 this is for tHE FREAKSSS 🤪🫣

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hermitscratch · 1 month

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Joel & Etho - 21, for the writing ? :3

Send me a pairing + a number! || Accepting

21. A kiss to shut them up, Joel/Etho, 957 words

[ Inspired in part by this lovely artwork by @plumadot ! ]

"So I've got a theory," Joel started.

It was a nice day; temperate in a way that heralded the approaching warm season. A lot of hermits were taking advantage of it to check the things off their to-do lists that weren't easily done in cold or wet weather. Etho had broken off from the others for just that purpose, but as soon as he mentioned needing coral, Joel invited himself along.

Which meant a return to form in the shape of them, once again, sharing a boat.

"Do I have to listen to your theory?" Etho asked. The answer didn't matter much when he was a captive audience, but their conversations up until this point had been general, casual nonsense. How they spent their morning, how they liked their steak cooked, what ore they'd most be willing to eat. Time killers at worst, amusement at best.

Joel scoffed. "Don't act like you don't want to know what I'm thinking," Etho felt an elbow land against his ribs without any real force. It might have been rougher, if they weren't currently faced away from each other. Joel liked watching the wake the boat left behind, so they were pressed back-to-back. "It's about your obsession."

"My obsession? Don't you mean yours?" He retorted. Joel snorted, and Etho could imagine the smug grin that'd be accompanying it.

"This projection is getting embarrassing, Etho," Joel said with thinly veiled glee.

Etho rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. Just tell me about your theory," He said through a chuckle.

From behind him, Joel wiggled like he was trying to look over his shoulder. The boat rocked hard to the left, and Joel stilled before crowing, "I knew you wanted to know!"

Etho stopped rowing to peer over the boat's edge. The ocean here was deep, illuminated only faintly by magma pockets and the occasional rogue glow squid. They'd made a lot of headway, but there was still a ways to go to reach an untouched reef. "I wonder if I could swim back to shore from here..."

"I'll push you overboard myself if you don't let me get a blummin' word out," Joel griped, even as he fisted a hand in the back of Etho's shirt. It wouldn't do much if Etho decided to move, but the idea that Joel might want him to stay was more than enough for Etho to do so.

Not that Etho would ever tell him that; his ex-soulmate's ego was big enough.

"You're the one stopping, though?" Etho answered, rebalancing the boat and adjusting the oars to continue rowing. Joel's inhale was audible, and before he could argue, Etho urged, "Let's hear your theory."

Joel crossed his arms with a huff. Etho grinned. Joel was probably pouting and everything. "D'you remember what Gem said this morning?"

"Hmm," Etho had to think the question through. They'd been hanging out with Gem, Impulse, and Scar that morning, a lot of things were said. "Mmmmaybe?"

After a few minutes of fruitless sifting through snippets of conversation that Joel might have found noteworthy, he threw Etho a bone. "When we were arguing about who built a better cherry tree, still me by the way, she said-"

Ah. "'Just kiss already', or something?" Etho offered.

Joel clapped once, "Exactly."

Etho laughed, pitching his voice up in a mockery of Joel's, "Oh no, I'm not obsessed, I'm just chasing him making smoochy sounds and thinking a lot about Gem telling us to kiss-"

"That first thing was literally your fault!" Joel argued, "And I'm not thinking about it, alright? There's nothing to think about, it's just a thing that is!"

"What is?"

Joel seemed to shrink, curling forward so their backs were no longer touching. "If we kissed, the world would sorta collapse, wouldn't it?"

Etho stopped so abruptly that he almost dropped an oar. What? "Uh. No?"

"Of course you'd say so, it's stupid how bad you wanna kiss me," Joel scoffed. The turn in conversation was so jarring that Etho didn't even argue the point about wanting to kiss Joel. "But the stir it'd cause would be massive. Gem would explode. Bdubs would probably explode, maybe Grian? Scar and Skizz, definitely, we'd never hear the end of it."

Etho locked the oars and turned around in his seat. If Joel noticed, he gave no indication, plowing relentlessly forward as if he'd realized there was no going back now that he'd started. Etho recognized that habit from their time together in Double Life- an anxious Joel with no other outlet would ramble himself breathless.

"Your mask as well," Joel continued, "Nobody's seen you without it-"

Etho tugged his mask down.

"-that's probably grounds for server obliteration in itself-"

He put a hand on Joel's shoulder.

"-if the first time anybody saw your face was for a kiss like that, then-"

He turned Joel to face him.

And before Joel could say another word, Etho kissed him.

Silence. Bliss. Etho's lips were dry from the mask, and he kept the press of them soft until he felt Joel's stiff body melt, meeting Etho's lean halfway. He tilted his head, and he could feel the flutter of long lashes against his face as Joel's eyes shut. The world kept turning, and Etho let it, stealing a moment just for them.

It only ended when Etho pulled away, leaving a dazed Joel to process what had just happened. Etho didn't bother putting his mask back up when he grinned. "Still alive?"

"Wh- y-?" Joel floundered. Etho chuckled, and Joel scowled, even as a dusty blush painted his cheeks pink. Even as he turned to face Etho properly, dropping his head against Etho's shoulder. Even as Etho felt lips against his racing pulse.

"Oh, shut up, Etho."

#SmallEtho #SmallishBeans #EthosLab #Hermitshipping #Hermitcraft #Hermitfic #MCYT #Asks #Anonymous #Etho #Joel #Astral Library #My Writing #Pinto Don't Look #This one really fought me and I'm not sure why

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hitomisuzuya · 1 year

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HEY OMG BRO THIS THOUGHT HAS BEEN IN MY MIND FOR A HOT MIN…. ok nsfw scara w/ afab reader and breeding fr omfg. BUR LIKE THEY R MARRIED AND ANDNB BEHJIR idk go crazy but Aplease 🙏

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Breeding kink. Constant use of a pet name. Established marriage.

Go crazy about Scara with a breeding kink? Don't mind if I do😌 I also added a touch that everyone seems to really like when I write breeding kink Scara. Here is the pitch and I hope you enjoy.

Scaramouche's hand tore in a frenzied fashion at your clothes. Moaning into your mouth, he pushed you firmly up against the wall, grinding his hardening cock between your legs. His hands went to caress your hips like they were the most precious thing in the world.

How you'd done it was anyone's guess. How'd he had done it was an even bigger guess. It would be the stuff of legends in the Fatui as long as the organization existed.

Scaramouche. The 6th Fatui Harbinger. He himself was a legend in the Fatui, famously known for his bad attitude. He was an obnoxious, narcissistic, hard to deal with little gremlin of a man.

Imagine how far their jaws dropped when they find out he had managed to lock down a wife.

His fingertips were bruising but, somehow tender on your hips, his thumb skimming feather light over them, tracing the line of your hip bone. It sent shivers up your spine, making your mewl in his mouth.

Growling huskily with lust, Scaramouche grinded himself between your legs until his cock was absolutely drenched in your slick. It always drove him over the edge seeing the way his cock glistened, shiny with your arousal.

You were panting, a vision to him as you pulled away to meet his gaze, your eyes half lidded with lust and adoration. Grasping your chin, Scaramouche nuzzled his cheek against yours before yanking you from against the wall by your hair.

Pushing you forward, he guided you onto your hands and knees, using your hair as leverage as he lined the head of his cock up with your entrance, groaning in ecstasy, pushing himself inside of you with a harsh snap of his hips.

You cried out, pleasure almost instantly curling to knot in your stomach.

Scaramouche thought his pace seemed to be a little unforgiving, despite the way you were pathetically crying out for him in absolute bliss as he slammed himself into you.

You'd suggested that you were going to take a job for the Fatui. Even though you were strong, and there was nothing he loved more than having you by his side in combat, and he would never outright insult your honor by telling you not to work again.

But damn it, Scaramouche was an old fashioned man. No wife of his should work.

"You know, kitten," He purred next your ear, flicking his tongue along your ear lobe, "any thoughts of taking that job would leave your pretty head if I fucked you full enough to knock you up. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Y-Yes," was all you could manage to stammer out, your walls clamping tight and gummy around his cock, each thrust deeper and harsher than the last, making pleasure burn white hot behind your eyes.

Scaramouche's hand groped around on your stomach, the look of glee on his face when he felt the bulge in your stomach poke against his fingers was one for the ages. "Fuck, I am so deep inside of you, you are swallowing my cock so well, kitten," He babbled, his fingers caressing the bulge before he pulled out of you, making you scream his name desperately, your walls clenching around nothing.

Flipping you over onto your back, Scaramouche's cock was back inside of you in mere moments. The second he saw the bulge in your stomach, he pressed his hand down on it, making your back arch off the bed.

"I'll fill you full until my cum gushes out of you, and even then I don't think I would be satisfied," Scaramouche continued to babble in between moans that mingled with your broken sobs of pleasure, your fingernails clawing at his back, babbles of your own about how he was making you see Celestia meant his ears.

"Your hips have always had this particular sway that drives me wild when I see it," Scaramouche gave the bulge one last push before he folded your body into a mating press, leaning down to swallow your cries of ecstasy with a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.

"So wide and perfect for bearing my brood," A line of spit connected your tongue to his as he pulled away, his teeth drawing blood to well up on your lower lip as he bite down, feeling his cum spill into you.

Scaramouche didn't give you time to come down from your high once your release flooded his cock, mixing with his cum, his pace never flattering. Even after fucking you so thoroughly he still didn't feel satisfied.

Your body trembled and convulsed in pleasure underneath him, serving as fuel to feed his determination. "Don't worry, kitten. You'll take cumshot after cumshot until we get this right. I'll make sure of it. All in due time."

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n

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chloecherrysip · 1 year

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it has been days and i haven't seen ANYONE mention this so fine, FINE, i will be the one to do it

"We'll see how tough this Mario is when he watches me KILL HIS BROTHER!"

THIS LINE ALL BY ITSELF FELT VERY SCARY AND I FULLY UNDERSTAND WHY THERE WAS NEVER A MOMENT WHERE BOWSER COULD ACTUALLY TRY TO MAKE GOOD ON THIS THREAT, THAT'D BE TOO INTENSE FOR THE TONE THEY WERE GOING FOR, BUT...

WHAT IF...

(look, all i'm saying is the angst gremlin inside of me came ALIVE for a hot second and started imagining scenes playing out in different ways where Bowser DOES have this opportunity with both brothers together before the final battle and it is extremely heartwrenching stuff, OKAY)

I was originally gonna end this post here but welp, now I brainstormed a whole alternative scene under the cut

Imagine this: we're on the Rainbow Road. The blue shell hits! DK does still fall into the ocean (maybe yelling "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAUUUUULT" at Mario as he goes down) but Mario is thrown back by the explosion onto the side of Rainbow Road with Cranky Kong and the other Kongs (he is definitely injured, though) and lands there as they freak out about DK. Peach and Toad are still safely on the other side.

Mario is thus captured with all the other Kongs and taken to Bowser's airship (Peach and Mario call out to each other worriedly but there's nothing she can do and the flying Koopas are coming after her too so Mario yells for her to run and her and Toad have to flee, waaah)

(This would also let Bowser and Mario actually get to meet before the end, which I think would have been nice! Not absolutely necessary, I think the movie works fine without it, but it would have really driven home the threat/stakes a little harder and created a stronger Darkest Moment, I think)

Bowser, seeing that Mario is captured, is just FILLED with hateful glee and wants to break this little man down so badly after he DARED to get close to HIS princess, and he asks Kamek to bring out Luigi from the prison

Mario, now in the airship and restrained, gets to actually SEE Bowser and register how big/menacing he is and they have some banter where Bowser is FURIOUS and Mario is honestly just kind of confused, like, "dude, what is your problem with me??? I just came to this world two days ago???" (He's scared, of course, he's never seen anyone quite like Bowser before, but he also knows his type right away - he's a bully, and Mario's dealt with his fair share of bullies, that's for sure)

But then of course the conversation comes around to "WHERE IS MY BROTHER, LET MY BROTHER GO" and then Luigi is brought in, hands bound, and the brothers can't help but have big, teary smiles and call out happily for each other

But that happiness ends QUICKLY because Bowser advances on Luigi and Mario realizes all at once what's going to happen and he tries to run at him but Kamek drags him back with the magic

And like...I am not one for anything TOO excessive here, I wouldn't want it to be TOO far outside what a movie like this would include, but Bowser does start to hurt Luigi - picking him up and throwing him down, kicking him, scratching him up, and Mario is just in AGONY and desperately struggling to pull free from the magic and begging Bowser to stop, please, if he's mad at someone, hurt HIM, beat HIM up, whatever he wants, but please, don't take it out on his brother, PLEASE, he'll do ANYTHING

But of course, that just makes Bowser taunt Mario more, because he CAN'T do anything. He wants to see Mario broken down and a pathetic mess and begging HIM, the great Koopa King, for mercy because the princess would never be attracted to someone like THAT, how could she, how shameful! Bowser will be sure to tell her ALL about it when he proposes, he is delighted

(oh man, Bowser could even say something like that "whatever happens to him is YOUR fault, you brought your dear brother down with you when you dared to meddle in my fairytale wedding!!!" And it's a ~*~THEMATIC CALLBACK~*~ to Mario's dad, waaaah)

And finally, it looks like Bowser is going to strike a BIG blow but Kamek gets distracted or Mario just becomes desperate enough to pull free of the magic's influence with the power of BROTHERLY LOVE and he gets a punch in on Bowser that knocks him back!!!

And then Mario is helping Luigi up, holding his bruised face sweetly and reassuring him that it's gonna be okay, they're gonna get out of here and go home, and they try to run but they get dragged apart by guards/Kamek/etc again

Bowser is EXTREMELY MAD but manages to calm down and says that he actually appreciates Mario interrupting him with his pathetic little punch because he almost acted too rashly. After all, if he kills Luigi now, he'll be one prisoner short for his ritualistic sacrifice for him and Peach's wedding! Can't have that! Too bad Mario's gonna miss it! And then he grabs Mario and carries him out while Luigi is being carried/dragged back to prison and they're both horrified and crying out each other's names desperately as they're separated AGAIN

Mario gets thrown off the airship by Bowser into the ocean and left for dead (Mario probably gets one more defiant line where he swears he's gonna stop Bowser and Bowser tells Mario that'll never happen but not to worry, him and Peach are going to be very happy together and Mario and his brother will be reunited soon enough - in DEATH [evil laughter])

And then Mario gets swallowed by the eel and DK is already there and things start to play out the same way as the movie from there EXCEPT that when him and DK snipe at each other, Mario starts to break down a little and the line "Well, at least your brother's not gonna die because of you!" has a LOT more emotional weight to it and it's just a longer, more heartwrenching Darkest Moment scene in general, sob)

(and you could also have a scene with Luigi back in prison where he is obviously extremely shaken up and hurt and not knowing what happened to Mario, what did Bowser do with him, is his brother even still ALIVE, why was he so WEAK and unable to do anything, unable to even protect himself or help Mario, etc etc and that helps him have a character beat that maybeeeee makes his surprise rescue of Mario at the end feel more earned????? HMM)

I'M SORRY, I LOVE ANGST (that eventually ends happily) AND IT COMPELS ME

i'm gonna have to write this as an actual, full-fledged fic, aren't I, lolol

#mario movie spoilers #super mario bros movie spoilers #mario movie #super mario bros movie #you all already know from my previous speculative fic that bowser directly targeting luigi as mario's weakest point makes me WEAK #and that line in the movie just made the worst impulses in me flare up I'M SORRY I CAN'T HELP IT #cherrysip hc's & rambling

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awyeahitssam · 7 months

Text

A cold male voice rang across the courtroom.

“You’re late.”

Harry considered his response as he stepped farther into the room, head tipping up to take in the fifty some-odd witches and wizards that made up the Wizengamot. They were all watching him keenly, some with open derision and others with curiosity. His head pulsed faintly at the weight of the attention on him, their emotions eagerly battering his Occlumency shields. Harry worked to think through the sensation even as he reinforced his mental defences. He could already tell by the sweat beading on his back that this would be a trying experience. The fact that this section of the Ministry was deep enough to obstruct the weight of all other presences did not make up for the fact that he was in front of fifty people rather than the expected four to six. He hasn't practised for this, has had no means to.

Fudge sat in the middle of the first row, and the smugness he and the witch to his right were emanating made it rather easy to pinpoint who had been responsible for the sudden change in the time of his trial.

"Am I?" Harry asked, and the jolt of astonishment, annoyance and fury that swept through various members of the court almost had him gritting his teeth. Harry imagined that Fudge's anger and embarrassment would have been obvious to him even without his abilities. The man had turned faintly red at the question, face pinching.

"You were sent notice of the change in time this morning," the Minister barked out. "It is not the Wizengamot's fault you are late. Now sit down."

Harry allowed his eyebrow to quirk, slow and incredulous. This version of Cornelius Fudge was far different from the one he had met two years ago.

“While I would hardly blame the Wizengamot as a whole, it sounds as if whoever is charged with correspondence is at fault. Per a standing law written in 1839, all changes in time and venue must be completed in excess of twenty four hours prior to a trial's start time. Said correspondence must have been confirmed as seen by the person or persons on trial and their representatives at least sixteen hours before the scheduled start time.”

“That is for an official trial,” the Minister returned, voice sharp despite the fluster and anxiety Harry could sense beneath it.

“Apologies for my presumption, then,” Harry said dryly. “I assumed that any trial which our entire governance presided over would be considered official.”

“Besides which, there is no such specificity to that law,” A broad, square-jawed witch to the left of Fudge said, giving the Minister a quelling look.

The Minister did not respond to the implied reprimand, instead puffing himself up a bit and saying, “Now that we’re all here, let’s begin. Are you ready?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry was surprised to see Percy Weasley, horn-rimmed glasses perched on his nose as he stared down at a piece of parchment, quill poised to write. Unlike most everyone else in the room, his attention did not seem to find sole focus on Harry. Harry didn’t expend any effort to attempt to see how Percy felt about the entire situation, his focus drawn to an approaching presence. It was a whirlwind of concern, faint annoyance, and a dash of enjoyment.

“Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August,” said Fudge in a ringing voice, emphasising the word hearing, and Percy began taking notes at once, “into offences committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.”

Fudge continued on, listing interrogators, and Harry’s attention was distracted from Fudge’s words, the approaching presence, and his Occlumency shields by a jolt of glee and greed. His gaze flickered up to meet the icy grey eyes of Lucius Malfoy. The realisation dawns quickly that the Dursleys address was now a matter of public record. Harry had already decided he wouldn't go back, and this only provided more incentive.

He hesitates around the thought of whether the Dursleys will be targeted. Whether he should warn somebody that they need to be moved. Whether he cares enough to, after so many years of their oppressive hatred.

Behind him, the door presses open.

“—Witness for the defence, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.” Dumbledore’s voice isn’t projected like Fudge’s, but there is no doubt that he is heard. The press of the Wizengamot’s emotions is momentarily overwhelming: annoyance, bemusement, fear, anger, respect, deference, joy… Harry’s own anger is hardly a blip amongst the cacophony.

When he strides into Harry’s view Dumbledore's expression is serene, but Harry can feel his spiteful enjoyment at the reception his disruption has created. He looked up at Fudge through the half-moon spectacles that rested halfway down his crooked nose.

A few of the Wizengamot members muttered to one another, but most were quiet, eyes locked on Dumbledore.

While Harry’s presence had invoked interest and curiosity, the reactions to Dumbledore were far more substantive. Perhaps it was that the Headmaster had interacted with all of these people personally, socially, and they knew him by more than reputation. They had personal feelings and opinions fully developed about Dumbledore, while Harry was still, largely, an unknown.

“Ah,” said Fudge, thoroughly disconcerted and flustered by Dumbledore’s presence. “Dumbledore. Yes. You—er—got our—er—message that the time and—er—place of the hearing had been changed, then?”

“I must have missed it,” said Dumbledore cheerfully. “However, due to a lucky mistake I arrived at the Ministry three hours early, so no harm done.”

It was a lie, Harry recognized, and one the Headmaster took a good deal of amusement in stating. Some of Dumbledore’s lingering frustration seemed to melt the longer he watched Fudge, the genial cast to his face a farce. He took joy in Fudge being wrong-footed, and the longer he fumbled, the more Dumbledore’s contentment with the situation grew.

“Yes—well—I suppose we’ll need another chair—I—Weasley, could you—?”

“Not to worry, not to worry,” said Dumbledore pleasantly; he took out his wand, gave it a little flick, and a squashy chintz armchair appeared out of nowhere next to Harry. Dumbledore sat down, put the tips of his long fingers together, and looked at Fudge over them with an expression of polite interest.

Harry had never thought of Dumbledore as anything approaching petty before, and perhaps he typically was not, but there was no denying that he was fond of making Fudge feel foolish. Well, his name had been dragged through the Prophet by the Minister's word; Harry couldn’t be surprised by a grudge. Seemingly omniscient or not, Dumbledore was only human.

The Wizengamot was still muttering and fidgeting restlessly; only when Fudge spoke again did they settle down.

“Yes,” said Fudge again, shuffling his notes. “Well, then. So. The charges. Yes.” He extricated a piece of parchment from the pile before him, took a deep breath, and read, “The charges against the accused are as follows: That he did knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on August the second at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offence under paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under section thirteen of the International Confederation of Wizards’ Statute of Secrecy.”

“You are Harry James Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?” Fudge said, glaring at Harry over the top of his parchment.

“Yes,” Harry agreed, not looking at Malfoy this time.

“You received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?”

“Yes, but—”

“And yet you conjured a Patronus on the night of the second of August?” interrupted Fudge. Harry felt his vindictive pleasure at cutting him off—even with Dumbledore here, he was finding his footing—but as Harry failed to answer this question, his irritation rose to overtake it.

“You are expected to answer,” the witch to the left of Fudge said, raising a brow at him. She had been the same woman to defend the law he had parrotted.

Harry lets his silence linger for a moment, feeling the anticipation of the Wizengamot build, before returning, “Will I be allowed to do so in full?”

His voice is perfectly respectful, but Fudge’s outrage still blooms. Dumbledore, a glance away, feels of surprise-concern-suspicion, and it makes the hairs on Harry’s nape stand at attention.

“Yes,” the woman gave the Minister yet another quelling look, “of course you will.”

“Thank you. To your last question, Minister, I did receive an official warning three years ago. The warning was,” it took a moment for Harry to recall the right term, said by three other representatives in three other trials, but the momentary pause has the interesting effect of focusing attention on him all the more, “improperly dispersed. The magic that triggered it came from a visiting House Elf. Being the only known magical in Little Whinging and without the supervision of an adult witch or wizard, the charms used to enforce the Statute of Secrecy were triggered. If anybody would like to see a memory of the event in question, I would be more than happy to provide it, assuming there is a pensive available.”

“There is no pensive,” a man with dark hair and an austere demeanour said, then emphasised again, “This is no trial.”

“Isn’t it?” Harry asked, eyebrows raising as he glanced tellingly down at the chair in which he sat, wrapped in chains. “Very well.”

“Either way, it is rather late to be blaming your troubled past on elf magic,” Fudge dismissed, and let out a short laugh, as if he expected others to join him in it. At his side, the woman still cloaked in shadows let out a titter. “A unique and unprecedented excuse, as, I suppose, we should have expected from a young man trying to squirm out of trouble.”

It is Fudge’s tone, a mix of condescension and chiding, even as his emotions are anything but, that does it. Behind his Occlumency and building headache, Harry realises that he's angry. He is disgruntled, disgusted and dissatisfied. He had accessed the public records available, he had pulled transcripts from previous underage trials, and this—this is a farce.

This is Fudge, afraid to believe that Lord Voldemort is alive and smearing Harry’s name because he can. Because Harry has nobody looking out for him, and he’s been fair game since nobody stepped in the first time Rita did it. Beside him, Dumbledore is perfectly silent.

Harry is a symbol, but he's also fifteen, and it's an odd thought that reeks of his Godfather.

“You're fifteen, pup,” Sirius had insisted mere days ago, like it meant something, like it mattered. “You deserve the chance to be a boy without all of this added pressure.”

The glimmer in his eyes had been just as telling as the mingled pain-grief-exhaustion-despair. He was speaking from experience, Harry had thought, throat tight. It made Harry want to fight for his Godfather, for the boy that he once was. Where, then, was that impulse to fight for himself?

“You matter, Harry. What you want matters.”

Harry does not want to play their games, though he has already begun to. He does not want to use the information he's researched, as he sits in a chair with chains, and struggles through polite phrasings. He won't let his research go to waste, though. He knows something for once, and he'll use that knowledge.

The look he levels to Fudge, then, is faux-concerned. “I understand you've had no reason to research this, Minister,” he says, voice kind in a way that is mockery and can not be called such, “but I take the threat of having my wand snapped very seriously. According to public records, the Statute of Secrecy charms have been proven defective in the exact scenario I've discussed once before, in the case of Richard Pike, who’s classmate had an elf deliver things on multiple occasions until he was brought between a five-panel jury to plead his case.”

“Mind you, the Ministry hadn't been running a campaign to discredit Richard Pike,” Harry added casually. The reaction from a simple remark didn't disappoint; Fudge spluttered, the woman beside him leaned out of the shadows, revealing an overwhelmingly pink ensemble, and someone burst out, “Now see here, young man—!” before being abruptly silenced. “He was fifteen, too, but he actually had adults willing to advocate on his behalf.”

Dumbledore’s concern is growing beside him, but Harry doesn't turn to meet the man's eyes, and Dumbledore does not speak out, despite Harry’s accusation.

Harry’s rage is bubbling at the back of his throat, and he wants to shout, but he had learned about the ineffectiveness of screaming his ire long ago. That lesson had only been reinforced after his outburst at Ron and Hermione, and he is more than willing to try something else now.

He takes a moment to consider his approach, and then goes with something that feels natural, a release that will keep his shouts in check; Harry laughs.

“Something funny, Mr. Potter?” A cold voice comes.

“Not really, Something is ridiculous, though, and I’m sure you’d all rather I laugh than deal with a moody teenager's temper tantrum.” He lets his smile go a little sharper, and feels the good his reminder does. There is a particularly keen sense of culpability from a woman he faintly recognizes from his research; Head of the Panel for Underaged Sourcery, Irena Covey. Is the guilt for allowing this to spiral so out of hand, into a room meant for criminal proceedings, or something else?

“I have before me the entire government of magical Britain, wasting their time at a hearing for underaged magic which is typically handled by an empaneled jury of four. We are in the bowels of the Ministry, in a room that has not been used for anything but trials of the most dangerous criminals, and yet this is not a trial, but a hearing to decide disciplinary methods, as if there is no doubt of my guilt and I must be punished.”

“My ‘crime,’” he uses the air quotes readily, “is using the Patronus Charm to protect myself and my cousin from a dementor. My cousin, who knows about magic and does not count as a breach in the Statute. If you'd like to see the memory of the encounter, I give full permission to have it pulled from my head. If you'd like to give me veritaserum—well, I have no parent to consent to the use of a regulated substance, but that's never stopped anybody before. I’ll submit myself willingly to that as well. And if,” he smiles sharply, “you'd like to handle this especially quickly, and get back to your doubtlessly busy lives, I will swear upon my magic that I'm telling the truth. How's that?”

It’s nothing that can be compelled or asked for, not ever, but the offer is a powerful thing. Vows on your magic can be taken as irrefutable testimony, and are rarely given, as they rely on objective rather than subjective fact, a twist that always leaves one with the slightest chance of turning squib.

He feels the shift in the air, the reconsideration of biases, the sharpening curiosity.

“I find your tone disrespectful, boy,” says a man with the longest straw-coloured hair Harry has ever seen. It lies in neat curls, soft and touchable, but the man’s face is cold and his tone hard, and Harry can’t pinpoint his intention with so many other people in the room.

“Perfectly understandable, sir. I find this entire theatrical display disrespectful. You are all very important and busy people, so I can understand that you are frustrated with having your time wasted. However I hope you'll forgive if my frustration outweighs your own, as I am being treated like a war criminal rather than an underaged child due to a bewildering grudge that our Minister seems to be harbouring.”

“You want to snap my wand?” Harry asked the Minister if Magic, eyes blazing but posture relaxed, “Then you can be certain I will put up a fight.”

He let his eyes trail over the rest of his jury, the heady, odd feel of their captivated attention allowing his shoulders to relax into something looser and more confident.

“Magic is the only thing I have of my mother and father. So forgive this fifteen year old orphan for his sentimentality,” Harry bared his teeth, “but I plan on keeping it. Especially considering that I have broken no laws, and there are clear caveats in place that allow an underaged witch or wizard to use magic when in fear for their life.”

He let his gaze slide over the Wizengamot and paused to meet every set of eyes that were not looking away. His point has been well and truly made. Dumbledore is surprised by his outburst, or perhaps by its effectiveness, and faintly suspicious for some reason.

“Strong words prove nothing,” a man larger than Harry’s uncle says when Harry’s gaze lands on him, and he doesn't believe Harry, but he is used to that.

Harry thinks back to the books on magical vows he had studied during the tournament, and the book in the Black Library that he had read two days ago. He thinks of the vow that he had carefully drafted, under Sirius’ supervision. His godfather has emphasised the importance of his wording, so that there could be no mistake.

“Harry, wait.” Dumbledore’s order comes curt and harsh, but Harry pays it no attention. He knows what has caught the Headmaster’s attention; the golden glow that had encapsulated Harry the moment he chose his words. It hazes around his form, and Harry looks down at his hand with interest and curiosity.

There is a sudden murmuring from his audience as they catch on.

“I, Harry James Potter, vow on my magic that on the night of August 2 I used a patronus charm to ward off dementors in Little Whinging, Surrey, in fear of losing my soul.”

The golden glow retreats. Several people gasp at the act, but it is no mere dramatics; the shock he feels pulsing through the room is genuine. He allowed the pause to linger for a moment before saying, “I would cast a spell to prove my claim, but this is a disciplinary hearing for underaged magic.”

Dumbledore cleared his throat, but before he could speak a worn voice sounded from the top tier of the gallery. “I vote an exception be made. Raise your wands if you are in agreement.”

It was nearly unanimous, and Fudge’s expression was taut. His emotions were hard to pinpoint, though multiple people were radiating fear, stomach-churning and vile. Madame Bones glanced around the gallery, expectant. “Mr. Potter, if you would?”

Obediently, Harry drew his wand and murmured a spell under his breath. It was a rather cheeky choice, but Harry was a Gryffindor for a reason. His patronus burst into existence and lifted its head regally, sightless eyes fixed on the Wizengamot. After a moment it turned to Harry and met his gaze before bowing its head. Harry bowed his head back in respect, tension lessening as he felt the warmth and serenity his patronus gave to him, deeply soothing. It took a step forward and pressed its head to his chest, and Harry smiled.

“Fantastic,” Madam Bones murmured. “Very impressive.”

She said it, but Harry could feel it radiating from all around the room; respect, wariness, keen interest. A couple of people even seemed amused by his gall, which, he supposed, was better than offended. Fear was regulated to an undertone in the room, pervasive but not overpowering.

Harry’s patronus raises its head, a huff ruffling his hair. He raised a hand to brush over its snout, feeling the warm, welcoming peace it emanated more than its fur. It stares into his eyes for a long moment, grounding Harry, before lowering its head one last time and glimmering out of existence, purpose served.

“Well then,” the shift in the room was abrupt. With two words the attention of the Wizengnot had been captured by a dark-haired woman, whose brown eyes were cataloguing Harry. The abrupt pull and shift of emotions might have been startling had his patronus not left him so balanced. “I might have agreed that all of our time was wasted on this day, Mr. Potter, if not for this exquisite demonstration of a mastered patronus. That it is tactile as well as spiritually corporeal is a rare and impressive feat, especially given your age.”

Beneath her intrigue and open interest, the turn of her emotions had an odd chill to them. Her fascination is detached and clinical. Her regard had the effect of sharpening the interest towards Harry all the more. Dumbledore’s emotions pulsed behind him, an odd mix of wary, vexed and rueful.

“Perhaps, Lady Laurier, it would be most appropriate to turn our attention to how a dementor managed to make its way to Little Whinging in the first place.” Dumbledore said pleasantly.

Bones clears her throat. “That is certainly a matter that needs attention. First, however, Mr. Potter’s verdict.”

“I believe that Mr. Potter’s vow constitutes irrefutable proof, and this tria—hearing should be closed.” Covey spoke up, her slip made all the more apparent by its correction.

“So it shall be,” agreed Bones. “As Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I accept into the record Harry Potter's magical vow. In combination with his subsequent proof of magic, this vow is considered irrefutable evidence. As such, all charges against the accused are dismissed with the Ministry's sincere apologies. I put forward my professional recommendation that future cases of underaged sorcery are dealt with by the bench traditionally empaneled.” She added pointedly.

#my writing #Empath Harry #I'm desperate to start writing this story again #but as in love as I am with the premise I've set up and other scenes that've been written #writing this is like pulling teeth #Harrymort #unless I'm incapable of continuing

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kengan-daddies · 7 months

Text

Fatal Love Raian Kure

Anime: Kengan Ashura

Character: Raian Kure

Warning: Graphic description of blood, corpses, violence, bodily fluids

Fatal Love Raian Kure

You were sitting in the crowd, looking down at Raian's and Ohma's battle, it was brutal, it was fast, it was beastly, it was savage... it was exciting. By far, this was the best battle yet, and was a great way to start off round 2, you watched as Raian turned the battle with just a single clothesline attack, causing Ohma to flip.

Watching as Raian began beating Ohma into the ground, throwing him around like a rag doll, you were used to seeing Raian dominate his opponents in the field, but you never actually seen him do it like this. It was almost like he was teaching Ohma, it was bizarre and not Raian's normal course of action when he was fighting. You looked on with confusion but also with glee, at this crazy fight.

'Raian... what are you doing?' You thought as you watched him taunt Ohma. Hearing him sound like a raging fool, brought back flashbacks, it hasn't been very long since you and Raian been together, if you were dating, it wasn't determined. He never acknowledged your relationship. He never even thought about it nor spoke of it. You can still remember the day you met him, down in that alleyway all those years ago.

You were panting, having just been attacked by some thugs, you've been fighting them for the past few hours, running and stopping to take some out. You were covered in cuts and bruises, your hair tangled and matted with blood, leaves and trash from being thrown around and manhandled. You've been able to hold your own, throwing, kicking, punching, stabbing, slicing, underhanded fighting. You've killed about 6, damaged 8, lost 15. Your muscles tight and strained. Your legs wobbling, your arms heavy, your stomach felt bloated and your lungs felt tight.

You were cornered, slowly stepping back, as 7 goons stood around you, holding all kinds of weapons and tools, ready to beat, possibly rape and kill you. Your eyes shifted around your surroundings quickly, thinking of any possibly ways to get out of this, or maybe even find a weapon. 'Damn, just my fucking luck, of course there wouldn't be any way to get out of this.' You thought in annoyance. The leader of this little group chuckled as he stepped closer to you, you glared up at him in hatred.

"You gave me a lot of trouble, ya know that?" He said in a cocky tone, you could see the anger in his eyes, you smirked. "Tch, that's just because you picked the most weakest guys you could fine, you wanna be mob boss." You shot back, he glared down at you, his cocky smirk falling. Your own smirk fell when he suddenly kicked you in your stomach, making blood come up through your nose and mouth, you flew back, landing on your back, you were quick to sit back up but a fist collided with your nose making you fall back on your back.

You laid there in a daze, the world spinning around you. 'It's cloudy... has it been cloudy all day?... I could've sworn the sun was out... I guess it just goes to show you... when you're living hard... you can't enjoy the small things of life.' You thought to yourself, you could see the boss and his group of goons slowly surrounding you, evil glares on their faces as they stared down at you, the boss pulled out a gun, everything in slow motion as he cocked it.

'Is this it?... Is this how I die?... Why like this?... Why now?... I always imagined my death being more... it doesn't matter... non of it ever did, did it?... In the end, we all meet our end, in the most unexpected ways.' You thought, as you watched him point the gun towards you, his finger getting ready to pull the trigger. 'But hey... at least I had fun while doing it.' You thought, as a pleased smile slowly came across your face. The sound of chaos suddenly broke out, your sense of hearing dulling without you realizing.

You could hear the muffled sound of fists meeting skin, bones cracking, bodies hitting the ground, the feeling of something warm splattering on you made you become aware of your surroundings once more. You slowly lifted your head up, your eyes widening at the scene before you. Their bodies all mangled and battered, some even seeming to be ripped apart, arms and legs laid scattered about, their heads crushed and jaws ripped off. It was a massacre, it was a real horror scene. In the center of it all, stood a young man, he looked no older than 17 maybe even 18, he was young yet powerful.

Your eyes met, you stared on in shock, seeing their strange coloring, his hair line looked like that of horns. Blood over his pale skin, a menacing smile on his face when he seen you awake. He walked over towards you slowly, his form seeming to get larger the closer he got. Your neck relaxed once he stood over you, a vicious smile on his face, yet his eyes seemed curious, but nothing much else. "So, you're still alive huh? And still conscious to add to that fact, most humans your size would be either dead or on the verge of death right about now." He spoke, his eyes sizing you up.

You gave him a slow and painful smile. "Yeah?... Well, I'm not like everyone else... I'm a unique case." You said in a low yet amused voice. He gave a chuckle at your words, whether it was out of true amusement or just him laughing in general, you didn't care. The more you stared at him, the more you liked him. He was crude but he wasn't taking pity on you. He seemed to respect your strength, and you liked that about him. He was covered in blood, his hair had patches of red, his clothes were dark, masking the blood, his teeth were even stained red, and yet... you couldn't find yourself disgusted with him, it just seemed to draw you into him more.

'He's like me... He's one with the damned... and he honesty couldn't give a fuck.' You thought. That was 4 years ago now, it feels like it's been longer. Your eyes widen some, as you focused back on the match at hand, Ohma was red, and looking more vicious then ever, while Raian was purple looking like the true devil he was. You watched on in amazement as they slugged each others with powerful blows, the sound of their voices making you think of demons as they grunted in determination to defeat the other. You watched, with bated breaths, as they both fell from their transformations, going back normal.

You watched in slight amusement and worry as they both struggled to stand, throwing their bodies into their punches, trying to knock the other one back, but it was all over when Ohma nicked his chin one last time, knocking Raian off his center of balance. You watched, as your fists tightened into the fabric of your clothes. 'Stop the match... stop it... stop it... stop it!!...STOP IT!!!' You thought in panic as you watched Ohma beat Raian down into the dirt, you nearly stood up from your seat when the ref finally grabbed Ohma by his midriff, stopping the fight. You breathed a sigh of relief, as you calmed back down. 'I wonder how Raian is going to handle this.' You thought as watched them take Raian out of the arena on a stretcher.

The beeping of the heart monitor sounded throughout the clinic room, as you sat next to Raian's bed, reading a book. The Kure family came and left, making sure that Raian would live, and once they got the answer they wanted, they pretty much left. Karla stayed back with you, looking over at Raian in worry, she was curled up on a chair, her chin on her knees. You both sat there in silence, before a grunt could be heard from Raian. You both looked over at him, a smile coming across your faces. "I'll go tell grandpa that Raian's awake!!" She said in excitement as she ran out the room. You watched as she ran out, closing the door behind her as she did.

You looked over at Raian, watching as he sat up, catching his barings as he rubbed his forehead. "That little shit, Ohma Tokita, he was tougher than I thought, way tougher, but at least it was fun." he said aloud to himself as he smiled in glee. "I'll be sure to fight him again, proving whoes form is superior." He said as he yanked the needles in his arms out, causing the blood and water bags to bust, spraying fluids everywhere, you didn't care about the mess, as you stood up, your shoes splashing the fluids as you stepped towards his bed. He never looked over at you, as he stood up from the bed, seemingly deep in thought, but you knew better.

"Raian, you lost, you need to train more." You simply said. He grunted in irritation but he never looked at you. "You lost to a half done form that hasn't even been mastered yet. Your removal is far more developed then his technique, and yet you still lost. You obviously aren't ready yet." You stated, he clenched his fists as he whirled around to glare at you. "Shut the hell up, what the fuck would you know? You're not even able to use the removal, so how the hell would you know?" He said, anger in his voice as he glared at you. 'if looks could kill.' You thought.

You placed your hand on your hip. "I don't need to be a Kure to know that you've obviously been slacking off on your training, because if you haven't, then you would've easily won." You scolded. He growled at you before he snatched his head away from you. "My removal is stronger than any other member of the Kure family, that's why they chose me to represent them!!!" He said, his fists shaking next to his sides as he spoke. "And you failed, because you grew cocky over the years, losing sight of your training all because you're the strongest. face it Raian, you're a giant pampered child. You don't know what it's like to struggle, what it's like to fight for everything you got, born with strength. You lost because you're weak." You said.

He whirled on you quickly, his hand coming up to grab your neck as he slammed you into the wall. Your hands grabbed his wrist, as his hand squeezed your neck, one of your eyes closed as you glared at him. "Shut the fuck up!! You don't know shit!! You never knew shit!! You don't know anything about my life!! SO STOP ACTING LIKE YOU KNOW ME!!!" He shouted as he pressed you further into the wall, causing the wall behind you to crack. You whined and groaned from the pain as your nails dug into his arm. But a smile slowly spread across your face. "Hear that?... I think I hear a child, throwing a tantrum... but I could've sworn that there was nothing but adults in here." You shot back, your voice slightly strained from the harshness of his grip.

His glare seemed to darken, his blood lust rising, his grip tightening. "You sure talk a lot, for a dead bitch." He said. "And you sure... talk a lot... for a... a toddler." You shot back, refusing to let him have the last word, but non of that mattered anymore when he suddenly pressed his lips against yours, the grip on your neck never loosening but never getting any tighter either. Your tongues twirled around one another, your saliavas mixing and trailing down your chin, going over his fingers and knuckles. He pulled back, a satisfied smirk on his face as he stared down at you. A thin string of saliva connecting your lips, breaking with distance.

Your eyes have fluttered close and your grip on his arm loosened. He chuckled as he suddenly let you go, letting you fall forward against him as you pitifully sucked and coked for air, your legs wobbly and unstable as you stood.

You glared up at him, as on of your hands held your throat. "You son of a bitch." You said, he chuckled. "You look angry, but the way you were rubbing your thighs together says other wise." He said in a cocky voice. You cursed him silently, knowing he was right. Your panties were soaked. "Cocky bastard." You said. He grabbed your chin, holding your face up as he looked down at you. You could always see a small gleam in his eyes. It was an emotion he didn't have for anyone else but for you, you had power over him, and you both knew it. If you wanted, you could have him slay this whole island just because you wanted him to. But you'd never abuse that power, that was the trust you had between yourselves.

You were strong, you could handle him unlike any other woman, you held onto his horns, he'd buck and swing, but you'd never let go of him, and that's what kept him grounded.

#kengan ashura #kengan ashura x reader #kengan ashura x y/n #kengan ashura raian kure #raian kure #kure raian #raian #kure #kengan ashura kure #raian kure x reader #kure raian x reader #raian x reader #kure x reader #kengan ashura fanfiction

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verydeadaten · 5 months

Text

In the Schnee Manor...

Whitley: *lying down on penny's thighs* Mmmn...

Penny: You seem troubled. Is something wrong, Whitley?

Whitley: I've been thinking about getting combat training.

Penny: Really? Why?

Whitley: I just have a bad feeling. Ever since Beacon fell, and Weiss leaving... I don't know. I think something is going to happen to Atlas... to us...

Penny: *hugging him close to her chest* Don't worry, Boyfriend Whitley, I'll protect you.

Whitley: I know, but who is going to protect you? I want to be able to protect you, if you need it.

Penny: Whitley... I love you, and having you fight with me sounds like a dream, but you don't have aura.

Whitely: I know. That's why I want you to unlock mine.

Penny: WHAT! B-B-But Whitley, I've never unlocked anyone's aura! I didn't even unlock mine! I was created with aura pre-installed.

Whitley: I know. But I want it to be YOU.

Penny: Why not get your sisters to unlock it for you?

Whitley: They don't care. They stopped caring about me a long time ago. I don't even think they'll answer my calls. It has to be you!

Penny: O-okay. I've never done anything like this before, so don't be to surprised if it doesn't work.

Whitley: *caressing her cheek* Don't be nervous, I know you can do it.

The couple stood up from the couch. Penny was extremely nervous. Awakening someone's aura was personal, permanently establishing a bond between two people. It was like touching souls together. But how could Penny ever touch Whitley's soul? She thought for a moment. Then it hit her. She felt closest to people when she was hugging them, so maybe if she hugged Whitley, their souls would hug too!

She slowly put her arms around the smaller boy, pulling him gently into her embrace. He reciprocated, if course. Wrapping his arms around the android's frame.

Penny: Whitley...

Whitley: Penny?

Penny: Every moment with you has been...sensational. No, sensational doesn't even begin to describe it. Every time you look at me, every time you touch me, I feel like my machinery is going to burst. You are just so beautiful, and smart, and even though you can seem cold and distant at times, I know you are the sweetest, kindest, most amazing boy in the world! I love you, Whitley Schnee. I love you so much.

Whitley: *tearing up* Penny... I love you too.

Whitley felt a warmth blossoming in his chest. Not the typical warmth he felt when he usually hugs Penny, no, it's a different warmth. Like his soul has been let out of his heart. The warmth begins to seep out of his chest, spreading to the rest of his body.

Penny: Oh my gosh! Whitley! You're glowing!

Whitley looked down, seeing a faint white glow around his body. He felt strong. He felt warm. He pulled her in for a kiss.

Whitley: Penny, I cannot thank you enough.

Penny, giggling in pure glee, grabbed Whitley, taking him with her to the bed. She hugged him close, stroking his hair.

Penny: You are very welcome, Boyfriend Whitley.

They stayed together on the bed, comfortable in their silence. Until a question formed in Penny's mind,

Penny: What weapon will you be using?

Whitley: Dual revolvers.

Penny: Why?

Whitley: ...promise not to laugh?

Penny: *puts a hand to her core* I solemnly swear I won't laugh.

Whitley: *chuckles* Okay. I used to watch a lot of cowboy movies when I was younger. I've always wanted to ride around on a horse, fighting villains and killing grimm. It was a dream of mine, until Father showed his true colors.

Penny imagined him riding around on a horse, with a big white Wetson hat on. It brought a smile to her face.

Penny: I know someone who's really good with a revolver. Would you like me to ask them to train you?

Whitley: If they wouldn't mind.

Penny: I don't think they will.

One week later...

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

Ironwood: Three bullseyes at 15 yards... You're a natural with a revolver, Schnee.

Whitley: Thank you sir.

Ironwood: Are you sure Jacques is fine with you coming out to the school?

Whitley: As long as it's not interfering in my work, he doesn't really care. And even if he does, there's not much he can do to me. I'm his only inheritor.

Ironwood: Hmm... Alright, as long as you're sure. *thinking* Yes! Fuck you Jacques! I GOT ANOTHER ONE!!!

#rwby #whitley schnee #penny polendina #james ironwood #broken machines #beta testers

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polteergeistt · 8 months

Text

so. sugar. yes. what if III gave Vessel a massive boner. what if Vessel wants to make him pay. what if he chokes him. what then.

nsfw, choking, degradation kink, ves being pissed and sadistic below the cut

Oh fuck.

Vessel almost jumped off III. The bassist's sly hands slithered where they shouldn't have been, and he knew it. He was proud of himself. So so proud to have made the singer's pants feeling too tight. Vessel tried to hide it as much as he could without seeming suspicious. He placed himself where the spotlight wouldn't shine on that area of his body, he made his cloak swing around a bit more, but he could see in the expression of the people on the front row that he wasn't fooling anyone. He looked at III, and he almost lost it. The sheer glee in his stupidly amused eyes made him burn with rage, and at the same time worsened the situation. It took him an impressive amount of self control to not jump at III's throat and make him cum his pants on stage. He calmed himself down, glad that the bassist was wise enough not to be close to him. The shudder that escaped his lips and that the mic picked up probably set his mind.

"Just you wait." Vessel thought to himself. "I'll get that fucking smirk off your fucking face."

And he did.

As soon as the show was over and the members of the band were off the stage, Vessel grabbed III by the collar and trapped him in his changing room with himself. He pushed him against the wall and snarled :

"I bet you were giggling your ass off, you bastard."

III didn't even try to deny it. He cackled and nodded.

"Yeah, I w-"

Vessel's hand cut him off, gripping on his throat. He pushed him into the wall as III reached for his forearm.

"You're gonna regret this."

"Yeah sure I will."

This was too much. III was known for being a complete brat, but he was pushing Vessel too far. He pulled his collar down and dug his fingernails in the soft unpainted flesh of his throat. III hissed in pain. The pride in his eyes left, and a smile bloomed on Vessel's lips. III squirmed in his grasp. Unholy noises of helplessness barely broke the barrier of his lips, and the rest was just vibrations going through Vessel's arm. He knew he shouldn't be enjoying this so much, but it somehow felt satisfying to have the taller man panting. Vessel was about to release him, thinking that he had gotten enough, but something against his thigh distracted him.

"My, my..."

III was rock hard in his pants. Vessel squeezed a little harder, earning a strangled moan, and a spot appeared on the tent of his pants. Vessel chuckled, his mind going at a thousand miles per hour, debating on the following course of action. Among all the scenarios he had imagined, the choice was easy to make.

"How the tables have turned." Vessel whispered to III's ear in a sugary tone. "You're a mess, so desperate. Tell me what you are desperate for."

With Vessel's hot breath on his ear, his tight grip around his throat, the look in his eyes and his request, no, order, III felt like he could melt right there. His eyes rolled in the back of his skull. His hips bucked into nothing. A weak moan left his lips. Vessel was right, he was desperate. And now he had to tell him what he wanted.

"Your... On my... In..."

"You're gonna have to speak more clearly, darling, I don't quite understand you."

The fucker. III gulped loudly, trying to find his words.

"Anything, just please, touch me." He panted. "Make me cum, please."

Vessel tilted his head, acting like he was really thinking hard about it, but it was all mockery. He placed his face right next to III's ear, in such manner that he couldn't see him and had to look over his shoulder. The pression on his throat was impossibly more arousing. III could feel himself twitch in his pants, needy for friction.

"You think I'll just give you something nice ? You think I'll treat how you want after how dirty you did me back there ? I'm gonna take you to the hotel and fuck you so hard you won't be able to sit for a week. You will scream so loud all the neighbours will know my name."

This was too much for the poor man. He couldn't take it anymore. He came with a pathetic cry. Vessel finally let him go and he fell to his knees, coughing his lungs out. The singer simply stood upon him and watched as he tried to steady his messed up breathing. When he looked up, he was slowly shaking his head. III was a wreck with his red eyes and jizzed pants. Simply pathetic.

"Come on, we gotta go." Vessel sighed.

III thought that he would just walk away for a second, but he offered his hand. III accepted it and Vessel helped him get up. He didn't let go during the ride to the hotel. He knew that, as soon as the door of the hotel room closed behing the both of them, that it would be a long night.

#sleep token #sleep token band #sleep token vessel #vessel #vessel sleep token #sleep token iii #sleep token fanfiction #sleep token smut #poltergeist writes #kinky stuff

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manystarredface · 6 months

Text

Midway Between You and Me

A Jordan/Marie fic with the 'soulmates feel each others pain' au spice thrown in for some zest. :D I wrote a thing for the first time in a long time.

Summary: Five times Marie Moreau felt her soulmates pain and one time her soulmate realized whose pain they were feeling. LINK

or Chapter 1:

Once.

Marie dreamed of her soulmate as often as any other child fully in love with the men and women who flew across their screens and sold them ideals. Which is to say, she dreamed of her soulmate very often. Her sleeping dreams drifted through her mental sieve and left only impressions of her soulmate: a hero, chivalrous like all those main characters in her books. And why shouldn't they be a hero? All the best soulmates were.

"Mom said she and dad aren't soulmates," Marie whispered one night, before they were trying to actually sleep, feeling quite old as her little sister Annabeth gasped from beneath her Queen Maeve comforter. She imagined her mother's eyes in the rearview mirror as her sister hissed back.

"What do you mean?!"

"I mean Mom said she and dad aren't soulmates. I asked her today when she picked me up from school." The two girls went quiet at that little admission. Then, Marie whispered what else their mom had said. "She also said that they loved each other as if they were soulmates. That's cute." Marie's little smile at her mom's words lasts even through her sister twisting out a 'blech' noise.

"Where do you think your soulmate is?"

"Hmm, maybe they're in Belleville? Wouldn't it be great if they were that close?"

"What if they're in India?"

"I bet they'll become so famous over there that we'll hear about them over here, too!" The two girls giggled at the idea; Marie twisted at the idea in glee. Annabeth wasn't done asking questions, though.

"What if they don't become famous though? What if they're like Mom and Dad and are just normal? What if he's a bus driver? What if he's a butler?"

"We'll still find each other." Her mouth puckers into a frown even as she says it. Surely they'd still find each other. They're soulmates. Everyone always found their soulmates. Even if it took a long, long time. Just like Lottie and Eustace -- she'd find her soulmate. Marie was as sure of it as she was that she had to breathe air to survive. "And if they don't become famous, I'll become so famous that we'll have all the money we need to find--AH!"

"Marie?!"

Marie could not breathe, as if something had taken her lungs and squeezed them within their vice grip. She gasped, unable to take in even a hint of air into herself. In some distant, fuzzy way, she could hear Annabeth calling out, screaming. Like a fish, she laid there while the lights turn on and suddenly her parents were there. Her dad's blurry shape disappeared and Annabeth's cries got quieter, but her mom is above her, pulling at her. Finally, after some moments, she dragged a lungful of air into herself. The pump of her own blood filled her ears first, but eventually her mom's words sink in. Her stomach was cold, she felt her mom's hands there as she lifted her head to look down.

"Oh Marie, I'm so sorry, honey. Come here. Come here." Her mom's arms engulfed her before she could understand the dark stripes that were expanding along her waist and across her torso. The pain finally registered though as her mom held her tight. Marie spent the night of her 10th birthday sobbing into her mom's arms. On the same night she found out that she had a soulmate, she went to bed certain that they had died that exact same night.

Twice.

By her 16th birthday, Marie knew a few things: that her sister hated her, that she was going to be a superhero, and that her soulmate, despite all of the bruises and injuries over the years, was still very much alive. For her birthday this year, Marie had shown herself into the training gym at the orphanage. With practiced ease, she pulled her trusty penknife from her pocket. There was the barest hint of hesitance as she laid it across her palm and dragged it through her flesh. A mumbled 'sorry' was all that she gave to it, though.

Her blood flowed out form her palms, shimmered around her and weakly turned around like a slow-moving hula hoop. She guided it and ground her teeth, waving her hand so as to guide it up and down, cresting and sinking against the backdrop of the gym. At her feet, she could make out the stop watch running ever closer to her best time. Words she lived by circled round and round "Just one step at a time until you reach the finish line," pushed her on and on. Even as the taste of iron filled her mouth without any obvious cause she kept twirling the blood ring through the air, until a lightning strike of pain lanced across her shoulder. No one was in the gym to be impaled as the blood ring blew out like spikes. Marie crumpled to the ground, a hand to her shoulder, and a keen of pain scratched its way out of her.

Frantically, as she shook on the floor, she pulled up the sleeve of her t-shirt and palmed at the flesh at her shoulder. It was blistered, rippled by invisible fire, already rough beneath her fingertips. Would the nurse be able to fix this? As the pain drained away, like the grains of an hourglass, she took deep breaths and let herself settle. It was the first pain she'd received from her soulmate since summer had started. Now with the new school year, they were getting into some kind of fight? Marie pushed her cheek into the wooden floorboards. Had it been a fight or perhaps a response to her cutting her palms? Should she send a message back with another sliced palm? A bruise or burn of her own to remind them that this was a two way street?

She couldn't gather up the strength to pick up the knife again, so she let it be. Let her soulmate fade back to the shadows of her thoughts. The more concern that stepped most prominently into the light of her mind was that Mr. Ashby was going to yell at her for her getting blood all over the floor again.

#jordan li x marie moreau #jordan x marie #gen v fic #limoreau fic #limoreau #marie x jordan #marie moreau #what are tags anyway?

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ace-but · 2 years

Text

You're Free. Let's Go Out.

Sfw!Genshin x gn!reader

Thoma, Kaeya, Lisa, Diluc, Jean, and Zhongli

How would they react if you walked up to them and just... Asked them out! Or... Proclaimed you were going out.

Edited by my pal Edward! He's a saint I swear, he puts up with my gay shit and my fanfic

Warnings: Fluff, strong language(ESPECIALLY KAEYA'S)

Requests are always open! :)

Characters might be OOC, I've only started playing recently :))

Diluc

"You're not too busy in three days, are you?"

Diluc's eyes flitted up from his task as your voice caught his attention. He raised an eyebrow. The somewhat mischievous glint in your eyes and raise in your voice mad him suspicious of what you were going to say next.

"I suppose not. At least, not especially," Diluc narrows his eyes, seeing you inflate with glee. "Why?"

You stand up and pull something out of your coat pocket and hold it out to Diluc. It's a little phoenix meant to hang off of a chain. Small enough to be placed on a bracelet or necklace.

You gesture for Diluc to take it, and he does. Up close, it looks expensive. The materials it's made of are clearly high-quality and the craftsmanship is impressive. He looks back up at you, bewildered. While buying something like this wouldn't be much of a strain for him, he was aware that for most people it would take several months' wages.

"Is this... For me?" Diluc asked warily.

"Yup!" You chirp. And with that, you turn to leave him, before suddenly remembering what you gave it to him for.

"Oh, right! Meet me at Good Hunter in three days, wear whatever. Something appropriate for a first date, y'know?"

Diluc sputtered as you left his line of sight. He might have had a little crush on you, and that forwardness was something he shared and admired.

But he wasn't quite sure how he felt about this being the story of your first date.

Jean

Poor Jean, she'd been working so hard recently. You'd been a dear and went to visit her in her office. Mostly to try and help her out a little with her work. And then you found her, asleep at her desk.

You gently woke her and asked if she needed anything, and she asked if you could grab her something to eat. Nothing heavy, she just needed a snack to feel less light-headed.

Big yikes, you couldn't let that happen. She needed a meal and she needed it now.

And, when you saw the dust collecting on the curtains, you decided that she could use a little fresh air too.

So, you had a rather disoriented Jean sit down at Good Hunter while you order. You'd rather her not have to talk to anyone right now.

After a lovely little time of repeatedly saving Jean from letting her face fall into her food as she dozed off over and over, you decided that she needed to stay awake just long enough to get dragged home kicking and screaming.

So, you're gonna have to get her angry, or flustered, or something.

"This isn't exactly how I imagined our first date going, but I guess when I have the most gorgeous woman in Mondstadt in front of me, I can't complain."

And with the wide-eyed stare of the Acting Grand Master, you knew she'd make it to the end of the day.

How long after? Who knows.

Kaeya

This motherfucker-

Alright, so you were ready to ask him out. So ready, so sure that Kaeya liked you the same way you liked him.

But suddenly, the bitch was just never around? You and Kaeya were pretty close friends, or you thought you were. Kaeya and you had been friends for at least three years now... So you thought you knew where he'd be usually.

But recently, every time you went to look at one of his favorite hangout spots, he wasn't there.

Well, maybe Kaeya made a mistake trusting you with a spare key to his place. Ordinarily, you never would even think of invading Kaeya's home like this. But dammit he was doing this on purpose, you could tell.

You had just finished a little bit of work you had been putting off. Now that it was done, it was time to grab Kaeya by the ear and drag him to your date.

Public image be damned. Kaeya was toying with you and you were ready to strangle him instead of asking him out at this point.

You opened the door, greeted by the sight of Kaeya cleaning something off a shelf, rag in hand, and he quickly turned to face you. He looked confused for a moment, but then he got that damn smug look on his face again.

"Oh, hello. Finally making use of that key, are you?" Kaeya asked, turning away from you to continue cleaning.

"YOU." You growled, and you could see Kaeya's shoulders twitching in barely contained laughter.

You marched right across that room and genuinely did what you came to do. You grabbed him by the ear and began to pull Kaeya towards the door.

"It appears I'm being kidnapped!" Kaeya exclaimed in pretend distress. Dramatically trying to struggle out of your grip.

"I haven't seen you in weeks and this is how you treat me? I'm wounded, hurt, how will I ever get past this betrayal, (_)?" He continued.

"You're going on a date with me now, does that help?" You snap back at him, turning to glare at him.

Kaeya smiles the sweetest and most genuine smile you've ever seen him wear.

"A bit."

Lisa

Look, no one was going to deny that Lisa was a little bit lazy.

Lisa loves to spend her days relaxing, and though she took her job seriously, she couldn't help but love to appreciate downtime.

And that's where you came in. You regularly spent time in the library. At first, just because you needed to read a book in peace. But now, you mostly come to say hello to Lisa.

Sometimes she asks you to bring her something, and other times she asks you to go somewhere.

Today, Lisa had prepared some food to be eaten at lunchtime, but she was "too hungry to wait that long." According to her.

So that's how you ended up on a picnic with the librarian who you were certain lived just to fluster you.

Lisa had spent a considerable amount of time complaining about her day, all while insisting she'd spoon-feed you every bite of the food she'd portioned off for you.

You knew better than to argue with her, so you listened and agreed when she complained.

"And I thought he was just trying to skip the late fee, but no! I could see it plain as day! A trail of magic leading in the direction of Liyue Harbor!" Lisa waved the spoon around as she recounted the day.

"So now I have to send an Outrider all the way out to Liyue. I feel awful for the poor dear."

You couldn't help but smile warmly at her. She never had much to say when there were other people around, at least not much of importance, but Lisa always told you everything.

You appreciated being kept in the loop with all the gossip she (somehow??) manages to pick up.

"Well, I could go pick it up... Or we could go together? For a second date?"

You asked, before Lisa could lift the spoon back to your lips she paused, and you realized what you said.

You looked up into Lisa's eyes, only to find her cheeks flushed. Though, she was beaming in uncontained joy.

"Oh, cutie! What a way to ask me out! Whatever, I accept!" Lisa threw her arms around you, nuzzling into your neck as your face became hot too.

"And of course we can go to Liyue for our second date, I'll be thrilled!"

Thoma

The Kamisato Housekeeper was not exactly one for going out often. Thoma enjoys cooking and entertaining guests! Even all the household chores that came with it.

Which made him both closer to being the perfect man, but also made it nearly impossible to get him out.

Thoma loves to cook, and so many of your attempts to ask him out turned into you getting gifted a delicious basket of food. Eventually, you gave up on asking him out to dinner, so you asked Thoma to go on a walk with you. You insisted that you would bring the snacks, just in case you needed them.

You made all his favorites (that you could remember) and packed them up all cute-like.

And then you made your way to the designated meeting site and waited...

And waited...

And waited....

It had nearly been an extra hour before Thoma showed up.

"I'm so, so sorry!"

Thoma appeared just as you were about to go home all dejected. And when he got to you, he saw it all over your face.

"I'm sorry! I got a little caught up in my work, I promise it won't happen again. "

"Good, because I thought you totally bailed on our first date."

"Our what?"

You turned away from him as you said that, but Thoma spun you back around, hands on your shoulders. To your absolute delight, he looked like an excited puppy.

"You mean it??? This is a date?!" Thoma asked, lightly shaking you by the shoulders.

You had planned to play huffy at him, but you just couldn't resist Thoma's excited smile.

"Yup! I wanted to take you out to eat, but someone kept turning me down."

You swore you could see the cogs turning in his head before he realized.

"Oh, I'm sorry... I just thought you were bored of your own cooking..."

Thoma couldn't help but be the most perfect man in your eyes.

Zhongli

"That'll be a thousand Mora, if you please!" Chirped the cashier, you watched Zhongli move for his pocket. You had ten thousand Mora banking on the event he forgot his wallet again.

And that he did.

Take that, Hu Tao. That's what you get for having faith that Zhongli was learning after he actually started remembering.

You resisted the urge to celebrate as Zhongli gave you a sheepish look.

"Ah... I seem to have... Forgotten my wallet. I hate to ask, but would you...?"

You sigh and pull out your wallet.

"Only if this counts as a date now."

Zhongli who was usually so good with his words, well-liked, and elegant... Was now staring at you in surprise, his mouth ajar as you handed over the Mora. The cashier was very amused.

"No... This won't do," Zhongli was suddenly very deep in thought, despite the rose tint of his cheeks. "I couldn't make you pay on our first date. That would be improper."

Clearly, Mr. Zhongli thought himself quite the gentleman, as he brought his attention back to you.

"How about tomorrow? You can join me for tea, and perhaps afterwards we'll take a stroll through the Harbor." Zhongli proposed. While he seemed calm as ever, you could see the gleaming excitement in his eyes.

You smiled teasingly at him.

"It's a date, then."

Bro, Edward is literally such a cool guy, thanks my guy for editing

#genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin diluc #diluc x reader #genshin jean #jean x reader #genshin thoma #thoma x reader #genshin lisa #lisa x reader #genshin kaeya #kaeya x reader #genshin zhongli #zhongli x reader

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this-is-krikkit · 1 year

Note

Heyy Krikkit! How's everything? I'd like to request number 24 “Well, that’s embarrassing", please and thank you 🙃

hey Alice! everything's alright, i hope you're well too! 🥰

this was initially going to be light and fun, but i got a different idea so i changed it up a bit. hope you like it, thank you so much for sending a prompt!! ♥️♥️

send me a number and a ship/character, and i'll write you a drabble!

Relief (ao3 link because now it's a multichap canon divergent fic woot woot)

Characters: Levi, Hange, The 104th kids, Onyankopokon

Tags: snk 132, canon divergent, fix it fic sort of, hange is alive and well, i mean... yeah hange's alive, angst, just imagine those mechanics were better at their jobs than in canon ok? ok thx

The honest shock in the gasp that escaped Hange's lips when Levi's fist hit their chest, louder than the sound of countless Colossals approaching, burned its way into his ears and engraved itself into his memory with so much force he almost backed away then. He stopped thinking as a Captain and a soldier for a second, stopped putting the entire world's value above what their life meant to his, and almost disregarded their last order to let them go and look as cool as possible to everyone else while he alone would be stuck remembering their shaking hands and voice as they prepared themself to fly off to their death –if he even made it out alive himself.

Except Hange had been his closest friend for a decade and outstanding leader for almost half that time; Hange had been steering the wheel of this sorry army of theirs with the last bit of strength in their formidable spirit and visionary mind in those direst of circumstances, and Hange wouldn't request this of him if they hadn't thought every other possibility through and weren't past ready to cross that line.

Hange had always dedicated their heart to the cause they rightfully supported, and now wasn't the time for Levi to challenge their last command. Now was the time for him to dedicate his own, and let them go –no matter if he shattered it in the process.

"Shinzou wo sasageyo,” he recited solemnly, looking ahead, thankful for once for their mirrored injuries, and their current position that prevented either of them from seeing the other's face.

He still heard and felt the sharp intake of breath they drew in after the words had tumbled from his mouth, and for a second there when he could feel their heart starting to beat harder and faster under his fingers, could feel the cruel scorch of unrealistic hope –that those words might have made a difference, that Hange might have perceived the corrosive sting that declaration inflicted on his tongue and the meaning under it and somehow changed their mind– flowing from the veins of his left hand directly into his heart.

Their posture straightened soon after anyway, their sternum pushing back against his hand that he let fall in defeat as their feet carried them away from him and a chuckle made its way through their lips.

"Ha, ha! It's the first time I've ever heard you-

The sound of quick, human-light steps drowned the rest of their sentence and Levi's head shot up to watch Mikasa nearing their spot, her mouth opening as she closed in on them.

"Hange-san, wait! Onyankopon just said the plane's ready to go!"

Levi felt more than he saw Hange turn around again to face the kid as he took in the words she'd just spoken, praying Gods he never believed in that his ears and eye weren't playing tricks on him under the loud sound of the advancing Rumbling and the dust that was starting to saturate the air all around them.

“Are you shitting us right now?” he asked, not recognizing his own voice, not sure it even carried far enough that she'd hear him.

“Come on, hurry up!” Mikasa shouted again, before sprinting away back where she'd come from.

The faked glee faded from Hange's face and they stared at Levi like they had that day they'd reached the Jeager basement and found out about the world outside the Walls, like they needed him to confirm his relative's words.

He could be of little help to them right now, when his own brain was having trouble understanding the situation, when his mind hadn't nearly recovered from this most recent whiplash. But he still nodded their way and started moving.

The two veterans walked towards the others and the plane, and Levi couldn't help but wonder if Hange, only a few meters ahead of him, was matching his pace out of kindness to not leave him behind, or if their legs too felt like they had to move through thick, ton-weighing mud with each step.

“Guess I'm not dying today after all,” they said suddenly.

Their humorless tone made a shiver run down Levi's spine and he looked at them sharply, his hand wrapping around their wrist.

“Hange,” he called when the contact didn't prove enough to make them turn around and face him.

But they only laughed a strangled, wet chuckle that sounded so unlike them, and refused to look back at him. Instead, they shook his hold off and picked up their pace, quickly reaching the others and helping them push the repaired floating plane into the water.

He didn't hear them speak again until they were all safe sitting inside the aircraft and they turned to face Armin, still panting from the effort they'd all just put into getting out of the hangar that had now been crushed by rubble the Colossals had shot its way while advancing.

"Well, that's embarrassing after that goodbye speech but... Armin, would you mind if I back-pedalled on that Commander promotion? At least for the time being?" they asked, a familiar, playful grin splitting their face as they looked at everyone but Levi.

"Of course not!” Armin replied, blushing at the direct address. “I'm only relieved you didn't have to sacrifice yourself for us.”

Agreeing noises could be heard from the other Scouts.

"Right, me too,” they said, their smile faltering ever so slightly. “Me too.”

“Everyone, hang on tight! We're taking off,” Onyankopon warned from the cockpit.

The cabin shook and thundered, but the deafening noise and trembling floor weren't distraction enough for Levi to detach his stare from the surreal vision of Hange, still alive and breathing, settling in the seat directly across from his own.

They readjusted their cape around their slumped frame, their still shaking hands lingering against the spot his fist had touched minutes ago. He let his eye wander to their face, spotted the tensed jaw, the downward edges of their mouth now, and the tears welling up under their one iris, and he knew for sure then.

Hange wasn't relieved one bit.

#snk fanfiction #levihan fanfiction #levihan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #hange zoë #snk 132 #squad denial #mutuals #levihan drabble #snk drabble #wanderlustqueen writes #asks #i called it squad denial not squad rainbows n roses #sorry?#my stuff #hange is alive and well

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bimboothefool · 1 year

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A very special thanks to @smittenroses for inviting me to this memories over gifts event!! Apologies for my late story entry my life's been quite hectic, but hopefully in 2023 I'll be able to create my art more often! Merry belated Christmas or whichever holiday you're celebrating and a Happy New Year!! Now enough talk time for the show to begin!!

Frost settled itself against the windows that protected you and the rest of the others that live within the manor.

Currently you were reading Robbie and Memory a story, that being the Nutcracker Prince. Every time Christmas or any other holiday they'd always want you to read them a story relating to the respective holiday. It was practically tradition at this point, but it was a welcomed one.

You suggested that a story like this calls for a warm mug of hot chocolate and cookies for this occasion. They happily agreed and you put a bookmark, made your way towards the kitchen. Once you went inside with Memory and Robbie, you saw a familiar face and puppy.

“Oh hello (Y/n), Robbie. And you too Memory! What brings you three here?” Victor's amber eyes looked at you with fondness as Wick scampered over to the two children happily. “We're just here to make hot cocoa and cookies to accompany the story I'm reading.” You smiled back at Victor.

“Is that so?” Victor asked and Memory hummed eagerly as the blonde haired man laughed airily.

“Do you wanna help us?” Robbie asks awaiting Victor's answer and he nods. “Oh of course. Let's get to it.” The two kids cheered as Wick wagged his tail with glee.

After the cookies and warm cocoa were made, you invited Victor to join you. He agrees and lends a helping hand, once at the library you all sat down.

Memory and Robbie eagerly awaited with baited breath as you opened the red and gold book. “Now where was I..?” You hummed as Victor sat alongside you enjoying the warmth the mug of hot chocolate and your smile provided.

Both Robbie and Memory fell asleep a little after they finished their drinks, Wick slept as he was nestled in between them. You felt Victor nudged your side and your heart warmed at the wholesome sight before you.

“Let's get them back to their rooms.” You agreed with Victor's suggestion. Victor held Memory and you carried Robbie. Wick yawned and stretched, shaking off his sleepiness. He walked with the two of you.

“That story always excites me, especially whenever I imagine the scenes.” Victor's smile held fondness for that memory. “Really, now. I find myself casting our friends in those roles sometimes.” This piqued Victor's interest.

You both started chattering about who'd be what in the Nutcracker. “Vera as the Sugar Plum Fairy sounds oddly fitting for her!” Victor chuckled at the idea and he added in. “Luca would probably be the Rat King, given how much energy he exudes.” You laughed at the mental image that he's painted in your head.

Soon you blurted out. “I think you'd be the Prince.” Victor's amber eyes widened as his jaw slightly dropped. “Oh sorry, was that a bit too out there??” You worriedly asked, hoping you didn't startle him.

Victor shook his head and mumbled out, with a flustered smile. “Personally I see you as Clara… Truthfully I wouldn't mind protecting you…” You stopped with your heartbeat picking up speed. “Really..?” Your voice was soft for that moment, he nodded with a loving look in his eyes. “Of course, you'll always be the one who I'll cherish and adore.”

You couldn't contain your smile, even after all these years or however long you two have been lovers in this manor. He still knew what to say that makes his words feel like Cupid's arrow. The two of you are always falling in love over and over again.

“Same goes for you Victor…”

Once the two kids were back in their rooms, you two headed for the ballroom. You took notice of the entrance, a mistletoe was hanging above the two of you. “What are you looking at?” Victor's amber eyes trail to your line of sight as he feels his heart flutter. “O–Oh…”

“It's tradition isn't it?” You cheekily teased, tapping your lips. “Ye–Yes it is…” You cupped his cheeks and went in for a soft romantic kiss. He slowly kisses you back, enjoying the warmth of the kiss.

The two of you broke the kiss and stared into each other's eyes lovingly. “Shall we make haste and dance the night away?” You hummed yes to Victor's question. He took your hand, placing a light kiss on your knuckles. He held your arm as he led you to the large ballroom. Ready to dance with you to his heart's content.

#memoriesovergifts22 #my writing #identity v reader #identity v x y/n #identity v x reader #identity v x you #idv x y/n #idv x you #idv x reader #idv victor grantz #idv victor #idv postman #identity v postman #identity v victor

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bippot · 2 years

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Summary: Well, they broke up a while ago and Adrian still isn't over it. Chris takes him on a night out and they get trashed. Adrian never imagined that he'd get up in front of people and serenade his ex, but he did. Now he has to face the consequences.

Additional Tags: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Past Relationship, Karaoke, Alcohol

Music Recommendation: Hopelessly Devoted To You by Olivia Newton John (or the glee cast)

Peacemaker, Adrian Chase Masterlist - here

Karaoke! Adrian was surprisingly good at karaoke, even when he's sober, and this was something that Chris found out one night. His buddy had been whining about breaking up with his girlfriend for weeks, and honestly, Chris just wanted him to get laid and shut up.

That didn't happen. Every time a woman or man even glanced in Adrian's direction, he'd scowl back and complain, "Can we go? I feel uncomfortable."

"No. Drink some more and you'll be fine."

So he did. Beer after beer, until he was fucking wasted, dude. Still, he wouldn't shut up about Y/N.

"That's the thing, right? I could've just told her, you know, could've...fuck, could've been like, 'Hey, squish, I kill people, like, fucking loads, and dress up like a idiot, going around town shooting people....that's why, uh, that's why I forget to message you for days." Chris didn't say anything. He didn't need to. Adrian was speaking enough for the both of them. "Totally should call her. Shouldn't I? No. Yeah," he slurred out and burped. "I'm going to do it. Hand me my phone."

"Absolutely fucking not."

"Why the fuck not?"

"You're blasted, dude. And, I doubt Y/N wants to talk to you after you broke up with her." Chris retorted, holding the phone further away from Adrian before adding, "Which is insane to me, by the way. You broke up with her. You."

Still, that didn't faze Adrian, who tried to reach the phone by leaning over. He leant over so much that he fell off his seat, causing him to plummet ass first into the ground. But that's okay, the floor was comfy anyway.

"I think I'm going to sleep here tonight," he said before closing his eyes. Obviously, that's not how a night out should work, so Chris slapped his buddy around the face. It ended up being a little more forceful than originally intended, but Chris knew Adrian could take it.

Yelling out, Adrian whined, "OW! You motherfucker!" and brought his hand to his cheek. Accompanying the shitty bar music was a dull ringing in his ears now. Great. Just great.

"That's a wake-up call, asshole."

"Yeah...I know...I'm a real asshole," he slurred, before scrambling to his chair. He was too tired to continue fighting with Chris, so he surrendered and got comfortable. He lasted a total of ten seconds before he tried to get the phone again and said, "I bet Y/N thinks I'm an asshole too. I should call her, uh... call her to know for sure."

More and more drinks were drunk, and the boys became more idiotic than they already are. It was a little after two in the morning, when Chris went to the bathroom, leaving Adrian alone with his phone. He knew he shouldn't touch it, but he couldn't stop himself. His head was pounding as his finger hovered over her number. Without thinking, he called her.

To both of their surprise, she picked up. Sighing, she asked, "What's up, Adrian?" as she wiped sleep from her eyes.

Fuck. He hadn't heard her voice in what felt like years. It sounded so nice. His came out desperate as he said, "Can you...can you, um, talk to me?"

"Uh, yeah...sure. What's going on?" she replied, sounding unsure. He imagined how she probably looked; beautifully tired, with her hair a mess and eyes heavy. Maybe she'd forgotten to take her glasses off before getting into bed and now they were askew. He knew she usually slept in her underwear and one of his t-shirts, did she still do that? Had she hung on to a piece of him?

He didn't know what to say. He was too nervous. Too stupid. He'd been stupid to call in the first place. She probably wouldn't want to talk to him after he'd fucked up like that. She probably wanted nothing to do with him, and he should've known that.

"Ade, are you okay?" she asked. Fuck, she was concerned about him. She thought he was hurt or something. So, she still cared. He wasn't okay, though. How could he be?

"Have you ever had a Tight Snatch? It's a cocktail Peacemaker bought for me because I begged for it. Vodka and, fuck.... and fuck what was it? Peach schnapps! Vodka and peach schnapps. Strong. You'd like it."

She laughed at how clearly drunk he was. Deciding to tease him a little, she feigned outrage, "You're asking me if I've ever had a Tight Snatch? I like to think that, yes, I am keeping it tight."

"Don't I fucking know, baby."

The line was silent for a while. Neither of them said anything and stewed in the awkwardness. They weren't together anymore; they shouldn't speak like that. He shouldn't call her 'baby'. And she definitely shouldn't blush when he did. Y/N didn't know what to say, didn't know how to react, so she just went with her gut and took a breath. "I'm really tired. Can we do this tomorrow?"

"Sure, squish." He mumbled something incoherent before adding, "I love you."

Shit. He never said that before. "Adrian," she said. She was trying to be gentle, but he could hear the strain in her voice.

"I'm so sorry, I just... Fuck. I'm sorry. I fucked up. I'm fucked up." She stayed quiet and just listened as he continued to ramble, "Fuck. It's just that Chris brought me to this shitty fucking bar, and I totally didn't want to come. It's like why? Why would I? Sure, drinking is fun and helps me forget about you, but....but I don't want to forget. It helps. It keeps me sane. Without it, I.... I don't know what to do, Y/N. Fuck. The room is spinning."

Despite everything, she still was concerned for his well being, which was why she asked, "Where are you?"

Adrian hadn't realised that he was standing up until he was already halfway to the bar. He had to lean against it to stay upright. He had no idea what this bar was called. He might have known before he drunk the Tight Snatch, but now, he had no fucking clue. "Fuck," he muttered. He needed to get his ass home. "I don't know."

Luckily, it was that moment when an employee announced into the microphone, "Alright, alright everyone, we've got a real treat for you. Coyote's famous karaoke hour starts in five minutes, so if you want to sing, come and put your name down."

Strange. Y/N had heard of Coyote. "You're at a gay bar?" She asked with a chuckle. Gay bars are fun. Why wouldn't you go to a gay bar? Though, she'd admit, they didn't seem Adrian's speed.

"Ohh, that explains why that guy has a rainbow shirt that says 'Cum in me, bro' on it." He had thought the was a guy wearing it ironically, but due to recent information, it may be a sexual preference. "Chris picked where we went, so yeah, makes sense, you know, because he's a flaming gay. Well, half gay. Like you. Like me. Isn't everyone in the world bi? They should be."

Chuckling, she went along with it, "Yeah, they should be."

Out of nowhere, he blurted out, "I'm going to sign up for karaoke. Should I?" His words rushed into one another due to the drink. "No. Yes. No. Yeah, yeah, I'm going to. I'm good. I'm a good singer."

During their time together, he had very rarely ever let out a tune. He'd hum. He'd whistle. But, it was incredibly uncommon for him to sing. She remembered a time when she'd overheard him in the shower once and couldn't believe her ears. As soon as he came out of the bathroom, she pecked him on his still damp cheek and complimented, "You didn't tell me you can sing! So good. You're full of surprises, Chase."

Sheepishly, he lowered his blushing face and mumbled out a small thank you. He only looked back up at her when her finger hooked under the top of the towel around his waist and urged him to get closer to her, bringing her other hand to the side of his neck. In his usual fashion, he let out a small happy grunt before his mouth found hers.

Now, with alcohol clouding his judgement, he knew what he wanted. He wanted Y/N, but since she wasn't here, he'd settle for wanting to belt out his feelings. Sure, Peacemaker would probably tease him for it, but who gives a shit?

"Go sign up then, stupid," she urged. Even though the phone, he could tell that she was smiling, giving him even more confidence to do it.

"I'm going to, I'm going to." And with that, he hung up. Not before dropping his phone, picking it up, causing him to bump his head against the bar, his vision becoming even more blurry as he complained, "Fuck...I might be too drunk to even walk there."

Yep, it was official, she was going to have to pick him up. As soon as the call ended, she got dressed and grabbed her keys, fully prepared to deal with any of Adrian's intoxicated antics. And Chris's, if need be.

Peacemaker returned to the bar area to find Adrian waiting impatiently in a line. Luckily, it was off to the side and he could lean up against the wall without too much trouble. When he got to the front of the line, Adrian was all smiles. Goofy, drunken smiles. "Well, what took you so long?" he asked Chris, slurring his words. "Get your pee-pee sucked? As in your penis, not your actual piss. I know you went to the bathroom, but I doubt you did it in someone's mouth, I mean, not trying to kinkshame."

"I didn't piss in someone's mouth, dude," Chris replied, rolling his eyes, then noticed Adrian's name on the television screen above their heads. It said he was fifth in line for karaoke. "Is that your song, Vee?"

"Yeah, man."

"Kind soppy and girly, don't you think?"

"Yep."

When his name was called, Adrian had been given another drink by Chris and stumbled his way on stage, accidentally spilling it on a woman as he passed her. He tapped the microphone and said, "Uh, hey, audience of other drunk people." Adrian laughed nervously as the music started.

Y/N handed her ID to the bouncer, chuffed that he thought she looked young enough to be checked at the door. He let her through, and the first thing she heard was a familiar sound.

🎵Guess mine is not the first heart broken

My eyes are not the first to cry

I'm not the first to know

There's just no getting over you🎵

She loved that song. Maybe even more now.

The music was loud and the lights were bright. Definitely not Adrian's usual spot, still he looked to be having fun.

🎵 I know I'm just a fool who's willing

To sit around and wait for you

But baby, can't you see there's nothing else for me to do?

I'm hopelessly devoted to you 🎵

Chris saw Y/N and hurried up to her, weaving a little as he held out his hand for her to grab so she could help steady him. "Hey, buddy," she cooed as she comfortingly patted his back, her eyes trained on the stage. "You having fun?"

"Not as much as him!" He pointed to Adrian, who noticed Y/N's arrival and his eyes widened.

🎵 But now there's nowhere to hide

Since you pushed my love aside

I'm out of my head

Hopelessly devoted to you

Hopelessly devoted to you🎵

Each lyric was sung to her, and only to her. He knew that. She knew that. Everyone in the bar could tell. The song was about Y/N.

Adrian was staring at Y/N, and he was jealous. She was holding Peacemaker's hand as he cung to her. What he didn't know was that if she let go, Chris would topple over.

"I thought you guys broke up."

"We have."

🎵 My head is sayin', "Fool, forget him"

My heart is sayin', "Don't let go

Hold on to the end", that's what I intend to do

I'm hopelessly devoted to you 🎵

Though, Adrian couldn't deny that it was obvious where her attention was. It was on him, as it always tended to be. And, that smile. That smile was always directed towards him. He didn't know how she did it, but it had a way of making him feel like the most important person in her universe.

Leaning closer to her, Chris whispered, "Don't tell him, but he's pretty good at that."

🎵 But now there's no way to hide

Since you pushed my love aside

I'm outta my head

Hopelessly devoted to you

Hopelessly devoted to you 🎵

As the song ended, the crowd applauded, but he didn't stay to bask in the glory. Adrian stumbled over to Y/N, immediately flopping his body onto hers when he reached her. She placed her free hand around his back and tried to keep them both up. "What are you doing here, squish?"

"Someone has to make sure you two get home in one piece."

All of a sudden, Chris stood straighter. Adrian's gaze drifted to Chris, finding a smirk on his face. He'd noticed a sexy guy and bid them goodnight as he moved towards the hottie, mentally psyching himself up.

They were alone. Adrian wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not. His confidence dinged as Y/N's eyes flicked from him to Chris then to his face again. He could practically see the questions running through her head. Instead, she slinked one arm under his armpit and guided him towards the door, stating, "Let's get you home, huh? You want to go home, sweetheart?"

"With you? Always."

Sluggishly, they stumbled down the steps and into the cold air. It was a little bit of a struggle to keep him upright, but she managed to drag him to her car. Fuck, it totally would've been impossible if Chris was here too. Stuffing him in the passenger's side, she buckled him in, slowly reaching across him to click it in place. When she looked at him, he moved his face closer and tilted his chin up as he often did when he wanted her to kiss him. She didn't.

Making it into the driver's side, she couldn't help but chuckle at his pout. She started the engine, backed out of the space, and drove to his apartment. It didn't surprise her that when she removed her hand from changing gears, he kept trying to hold it, but she'd wiggle out of his grasp every time. "Why won't you let me hold your hand?" he murmured, eyes wide and pleading. Clearly, it was hurting his feelings. She shrugged, her eyes flicking from his to the road ahead. He was quiet for a little bit. "Can I see it?"

She almost laughed as she turned a corner. "See what?"

"Your hand. Please." Giving in, she held out her hand for him. When she glanced over at him, he was examining it like it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen, his fingertips ghosting over each part of her palm. Then, he turned it around and placed his under it, hooking his fingers between hers. It took a few seconds for her to reciprocate since she was mentally debating whether she should or not.

But, he didn't let go, and when he kissed the back of her hand, she couldn't help but shiver.

"You're cold, Y/N."

"I'm okay," she murmured, though she was anything but.

The lobby to his apartment building was mostly empty, except for the landlord, Kevin, who was still awake for some strange reason. He was the weirdest, always watching, always lurking in the shadows. Like an old house-elf or something. "Hi, Mr Bolton, sir," she greeted, hauling Adrian into the elevator.

"Make sure he doesn't puke on the carpet."

"Will do."

Unlocking his door, she nudged him towards the entrance and his bedroom. His apartment was one of the smaller units, so he only had one big open plan room, with a tiny bathroom next to the kitchen. It was mostly bare, only with a few pieces of furniture and the occasional trinket. His 'pièce de résistance' when it came to decorations was the picture of them that he kept on his nightstand. He always used to spend more time at her house. Apparently, it felt more 'homely' and 'comfy' to him.

Once he was on his bed, she blew out a breath, wondering how she was going to make it through this without cracking. She'd tried to forget the way his lips felt, the way his hair smelled, the way he tasted.

Immediately getting him a glass of water, she rifled through his kitchen drawers in search of some painkillers. She was about to turn around when he grabbed her wrist, his fingers pressing against hers. His touch was strong and possessive, and looking into his eyes, she could tell what he was going to do.

"No, Ade."

"I need—"

"No, you don't," she sternly replied, cutting him off. His hand slid down her arm to the sides of her abdomen as he pulled her in closer. "You don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?" he asked, a tinge of hurt in his voice.

"I don't want to do this," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. And she could've sworn his grip tightened around her waist and his nose brushed against her hair.

"Look," she continued, her voice rising, "I can't be your friend, Adrian. Friends are... well, friends. And I'm sure you don't want to be with me. You made that very clear. So, after tonight, please don't call me again."

She pried his hands off her and quickly stepped backwards. He didn't say anything. He didn't look angry, or hurt, or sad. He just looked... confused. "I do want to be with you. Why wouldn't I want to be with you?"

"No, you don't."

"I do."

"No, you don't," she repeated, her voice getting louder with every syllable. "If you wanted to be with me, you wouldn't have ignored me for an entire month then broke up over text."

Yeah, it wasn't his finest moment. He knew that if he'd done it in person, he'd act all skittish and she'd ask, "What's on your mind, sweetie?", which, of course, would make him go back on his plan. Then he'd have to keep lying about being Vigilante to her, which was slowly killing him on the inside. He couldn't tell her that he'd been on a mission for the past month. But, if she asked, he'd crumble in seconds and tell her. If he'd sat before her to break up, she'd know everything. She'd even know that he was madly in love with her and it scared the living shit out of him.

"I don't want to lose you, squish. You're all I have," he said, tears forming in his eyes. Y/N swallowed hard, her throat tight. He was serious. This was real. "Please, Y/N."

Tears were beginning to fall down her face, so she turned away so he couldn't see. She didn't know how much more of this she could take. "I'm sorry, Adrian."

"Just... don't go, okay? Not yet. Please?" he begged, his voice breaking. She sniffled, wiping her nose with her palm. She didn't even flinch when he hugged her from behind. Y/N leaned into his chest, finding solace in his arms.

Turning her head to look at him, she took her finger and brushed away one of his tears that was just about to fall. She'd never seen him cry before. His eyes were wide and his mouth was open, as if he was trying to speak. Y/N frowned. Was he... scared?

Softly, she let out a sigh and commented, "Let's get you ready for bed, huh?"

"Will I get a goodnight kiss?"

"No."

Adrian was unnervingly quiet as she undressed him and guided him to the bathroom so he'd brush his teeth. He stood there, his eyes fixed on her as she did everything, never diverting his gaze for even a few seconds. When she was done, she helped him back into the covers and brushed a hand through his hair, before moving into his closet to check if he still had the blanket she used to keep here.

"Where's my blanket?" His hand shifted under his pillow and held it out to her. He kept it there ever since she stopped coming over. If he blocked everything else out, it smelt as if she was still sleeping in the same bed as him. "You kept it."

"I kept all of your stuff."

Y/N smiled. He was so sweet. After she tucked him in and turned out the light, she made her way to his couch, lying down, ready to sleep there, which confused him. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to sleep."

"Come here."

"No."

"Please, squish." There. That was all it took. It was easier than she expected. She closed her eyes and let out a deep breath before returning to the bed to climb in the other side. She didn't know if she'd been dreaming when she felt his lips on her cheek, and his breath against the back of her neck, and his arms around her. She didn't know if it was a memory or a wish or a fantasy, but despite herself, she let out a quiet sigh. "Y/N?"

"Shut up and go to fucking sleep." And just like that, he did.

The next morning, Y/N woke up, and now she had two options: leave and completely break his heart further, or stay until he awoke and have to deal with the awkwardness. She picked the latter.

Carefully, she slipped out of his bed before he woke up and poured him a drink, placing it and some aspirin on the bedside table before walking to his curtains to open them with a hasty pull. In a sing song voice, she annoyingly chirped, "Wake up, sunshine."

She smiled when he groaned in response. She always liked this side of him. The grumpy mornings when he refused to get out of bed always amused her. She turned around to see him looking at her through sleepy eyes. One eyebrow arching, he complimented, "Mmm... you look beautiful."

"You don't have your glasses on."

"Don't need them to know that."

Blushing, she chuckled as she took a seat next to him, then checked up, "How's the headache?"

"Hurts like a bitch."

Slowly, she leaned in and whispered, "Good." She had to quickly retreat as he tried to plant one on her.

"You smell nice," he murmured as he reached for her hand, which she moved further away. He sat up abruptly and tried again, but she responded by flicking him in the forehead, hard. He let out a pained yelp and slumped back down. "Ow, what was that for?"

"Because I'm a horrible, horrible woman," she joked. His lips quivered. She handed him the drink and the drugs, waiting for him to take it before she left to start the coffee and fix him something to eat.

Like pricks, the sun shone brightly through his windows and the birds were singing, but, if anything, that pissed him off even more. They were mocking him for having a headache and acting like a buffoon last night. "I hate this place," he complained, throwing his legs over the side of his bed. "I hate it so much."

"Why?"

"Your apartment is so much better. Every time I come back here it's just a reminder that I am awful at interior design." Not holding it in, she couldn't help but laugh at his retort. He looked at her and smiled. His face was so beautiful when he smiled.

They sat in silence for a moment as he gulped down his water, before he admitted, "Your home looks like you. All houses look like the people who live there. Not physically, of course. Vibe wise. Does that make sense? So, that obviously means that I love it. But, my flat? Yeah. I'm not a fan."

"I love your home." He looked away, smiling to himself. He turned towards her when she added, "Even if it does have a costume hidden under the floorboard over there," and in his eyes was a look of shock and amazement.

Fuck. She fucking knew. She fucking knew and hadn't said anything. She'd been trying to get him to open up, to tell her himself when he felt comfortable enough to do so. But, here goes nothing. She explained, "I found it when I accidently dropped my phone on the loose panel when you were in the bathroom months ago. The wood flopped out of place. And, there it was as clear as day, your Vigilante suit. I've got to admit, I wasn't surprised. Vigilante does seem to know where I am at all times."

"Does it freak you out?" he asked, his voice a little shaky.

"No," she said simply. He watched her carefully, as if waiting for her to say something else. "The murder bit was a concern, but you stick to a code, only hurt bad people. And, I'm not a bad person."

He placed a hand on her leg, and she felt her entire body easing at his touch. He only did it to test whether she'd flinch away from him. She didn't. She was telling the truth.

"I am."

"You're what?"

Lowering his head, he dejectedly clarified, "A bad person. I'm a bad person," so she placed the items in his hands on the nightstand and crawled onto his lap, taking his hands in hers. "But I don't want to hurt anyone, really. I don't mind shooting people because it's over quickly. Most of the time. I'd say about 73% of the time."

"You're not a bad person," she reassured as she pressed a kiss on his forehead, then she smiled. "You're an arrogant, stupid, bumbling, loveable idiot. An idiot who is a good man, okay?"

"I like that you think I'm loveable," he said, winking. The pair spent the next hour talking and catching up, her hands massaging small circles into the nape of his neck while he sat there, relaxed. He told her everything, fully explaining himself to the best of his ability. This was the best he could hope for. That she didn't hate him. That she thought he was cute and loveable and didn't want to run away. And that they were together again. That was enough. It was more than enough.

When he finally got to the end of his storytime #noclickbait, she brushed her hand down his cheek and said, "Thank you for telling me," and finally gave him what he had wanted. Leaning forward, she tilted his chin up and placed her lips on his. He tried to be a gentleman and take it slow, kissing her in a tender, sweet manner. But, he had been waiting for so long to taste her again, to have her touch him in the same way as she used to. Fuck waiting any longer.

His hands roamed over her body as they deepened their kiss, his tongue teasing hers until she was moaning and writhing in his grasp. He broke off their kiss and looked up at her, raising an eyebrow when she opened her eyes and stared back at him. Lovingly, he caressed her breast through her top, letting his thumb brush over her nipple. Wait, no, it was his top. How had he not noticed before? He grabbed some of the fabric, held it up to her and pointed out, "This is mine?"

"Yeah. The shirt and the girl in it. Both are yours."

"My girl," he mused, smiling, before he kissed her again, a deep, passionate, lust-filled kiss that went on for what seemed like days. Maybe even longer. When he finally came up for air, he could barely form coherent sentences. He kept it short. "You love me?"

"Too much."

"Thank Christ," he muttered. She giggled, feeling just as giddy on the inside too. He trailed his fingers along the waistband of her panties, over her hips and down between her legs before his hand creeped under the fabric, lightly touching her. She was already wet. Needing him. Wanting him. His thumb found her clit and she made a sound of approval, he asked huskily, "You love my fingers, baby?

"Yes."

"Say it."

"I love your fingers. In me. Your fingers. And you."

"Good." He increased the tempo of his finger fucking, adding a second, moving them in a steady rhythm as he pumped his hand inside of her. His thumb kept up a steady beat, circling her clit until she writhed, her orgasmic pleas echoing around the room. "Bet you'd love my mouth even more, right?"

With a gleam in his eye, he leaned over to capture her lips with his in a kiss that was anything but gentle as he manoeuvred them so he was hovering above her. Then shoved her t-shirt up and so he could pay attention her bare breasts while he finger fucked her. She couldn't help but arch in response, her breasts jiggling as he continued to pump in and out of her.

Fuck, she was close. So damn close. But he was taking his sweet time, teasing her mercilessly. Everytime it seemed as if she was just about to go over the edge, he would slow down. He knew that if he kept doing it, she would go wild for him, desperate for that release.

Halting his fingers, Adrian trailed kisses downwards while he looked up at her. She stared back, her eyes bright and shining. So beautiful. He lowered his head to her thigh, letting his hot breath caress her skin as he whispered, "You're mine, Y/N. I'm keeping you. Forever."

He lowered his mouth to her, his tongue pushing forwards to meet her as his fingers started up again. Faster. Deeper. Searing hot. She arched her back, her fingers tangling in his hair, her head thrown back and grinding her hips towards his mouth. He kept his pace, moving over her faster, not wanting to relent.

"Fuck! I love your mouth," she cried out, tightening her grasp on his hair as her body shook. She felt his mouth against her thigh, lightly biting down lightly, the sensation shooting through her as she was seconds away from convulsing around his fingers and screaming out his name.

Another edge. He took her closer, knowing how desperate she was, that she wouldn't last long on his cock if he didn't keep her on the precipice. She was about to shatter. He could see it. Feel it. He pulled back, slowing his pace until it was barely there, barely enough, and he felt her body shake and quiver in his grasp, desperate for release, but not quite there yet.

Stroking his face that was against her flushed thigh, she sternly pleaded, "Stop with the teasing and fuck me."

Obviously, she was getting annoyed at being submissive to him. He grinned against her skin, his hands never still as he lightly bit and sucked at her hip. "I'll stop teasing when you ask me nicely."

"Oh, for Christ's sake," she said, rolling her eyes and groaning in frustration. "I love your cock, please will you fuck me with it?"

His eyebrows shot up and he got off the bed, quickly undressing himself, his clothes falling to the floor in a heap as he stared at her, his mouth open slightly in awe. For the millionth time, he still couldn't believe he was so stupid to break up with her. Well, guess that's in the past at this point. He was with her now, and nothing was going to change that.

Gesturing that she should turn over by swirling his pointer in a circular motion, he couldn't help himself and slapped her ass when she complied. He watched as she bounced on the bed, a mischievous grin on her face as he pulled her panties to the side and stuffed his cock head at the entrance to her slick, wet heat. The head slipped in with ease, and he tried to rein himself in, to take his time, but his passion got the better of him. He pounded her from behind, going as fast as he could, his hips hitting her with every ounce of his strength.

"Y-you like that?" he panted into her ear as he felt her body tighten around him. He grabbed her ass with both hands and fucked her even more, his balls slapping her as he tried to drive his cock all the way in. "Did you let that guy you went on a date with last week do this to you?"

"Fuck no."

No matter how hard she pleaded with her date, Peter, to avoid going to Fennel Fields, he didn't listen and dragged her inside. She had no idea if Adrian was working that day or not, but her suspicions were clarified when their waiter, Helen, greeted, "Hey, Y/N, want me to get Adrian? He's in the back."

Clenching her eyes shut, she shook her head. That was the last thing she wanted. Going on a date where your ex works is a low blow. Evergreen didn't have many restaurants, but still, she would've preferred if Peter had taken her to fucking McDonald's.

The date went... well, the date was shit. He was rather rude (motherfucker tried to order for her) and she was preoccupied with scouting for Adrian. Not that Peter noticed that, he was too busy lecturing her about bitcoin.

All was calm. Not fun. Not exciting or enjoyable. Just calm. That was until Adrian made his way out of the kitchen. Honestly, he looked awful. It was clear that he hadn't had a good sleep in a while. Maybe days. Weeks even. She had a hunch that it was since they parted.

It took all of her strength to stay in her seat and not try to ease him. Sure, she was confused and annoyed at him for his actions, but he looked so defeated and pitiful that her stomach turned at the thought that she might be the cause.

As he approached their table, water pitcher in hand, she tried to hide behind the menu. But he had seen her. "Hey, Y/N, want some water?" He asked, his voice gravelly and weak. There was no mistaking the sadness in his eyes. She nodded, placing the menu on the table so he could see her.

"You two know each other?" Peter questioned, unusually chirpy. It was almost as if he hadn't listened to her when she had informed him that her ex worked here.

"We used to," she said, her heart clenching.

In disbelief, he added, "Used to do what?"

She looked up at Peter, willing him to look at her, to see him as she tried to indicate that he should stop this line of questioning. But his eyes were on Adrian, who was filling the glass, trying to put the pieces together.

"Oh, you totally broke up with him," he cheered, pointing between them. "That's why he looks like shit. Sorry, buddy. Your loss is my gain, I guess."

Oh. If he was in his Vigilante suit, Peter would be fucking dead as soon as he finished his sentence. But, he wasn't. He was just Adrian. And just Adrian didn't have the confidence to attack, so he gulped and walked away, beelining for the dumpsters out back.

"Not cool," she angrily chastised, getting up and following Adrian. He didn't realise she was there until he heard the door close. He let out a hurt yell and punched the dumpster, making a dent in the metal.

"Why did you bring him here, squish?"

Y/N sighed and admitted, "I booked us to go to Parker's, you know, opposite the Whole Foods. It was the one restaurant we never went to so..."

"Because it's a steakhouse and you're a vegetarian."

"Yeah." He remembered. That was sweet. She couldn't help herself and hugged him as she apologised, "I'm sorry. He didn't listen to me when I explained."

"Yeah, well, he sucks," he mumbled into her hair. Y/N ran her fingers through his hair, loving how it felt to be back in his arms and how it seemed to calm him. He pulled back, looking at her and smiling sadly, before lying, "I'm okay. Really okay. Yeah, got a date with some guy called... called Will. It's tomorrow actually. We met at the zoo. Nice guy. Huge cock. Not as big as mine, obviously... but, you know... a good... girthy size."

Finally, she let out a chuckle. "Good to know."

He held on to her for a few more seconds before letting her go. She rubbed his cheek and told him, "Get some sleep when you get home and that's an order, mister. Peter was right about one thing, you do look like shit. And 'Will' surely needs a good pounding."

Peter looked at her in annoyance as she returned. They finished their meals, making surface-level conversation before leaving. It was clear that Y/N didn't like him and was just being polite for the remainder of their date.

Outside the exit of the restaurant, Adrian watched as Peter leaned in and whispered something in Y/N's ear. She reared back in disgust and slapped him across the face. The words that flew out of her mouth could be heard from inside.

"Prick. I'll have you know he was very sweet. My standards are actually pretty goddamned high and that's why I'm never going to fucking sleep with you capitalist, small dicked, narcissistic cunt. Never fucking say that shit again."

Adrian was impressed, smiling to himself. She was sticking up for him still. That was something.

Moaning and bucking back onto him, Y/N groaned out as Adrian spanked her again and swore, "No. He was such a cunt. I'm so glad you beat him up."

How did she know about that? Peter must've messaged her about it. "He was doing drugs on the way back home from your date."

"Yeah. Legal drugs." Technically, it wasn't breaking a law, but he had pissed Vigilante off so that was enough. And, he didn't kill him soo... in a way, it was a warning.

"He also went home and illegally downloaded a movie."

Laughing, she moved so her back was flush with his front, forcefully dropping her pussy onto his cock. Giving as much as she got. The way it felt, she could do it all night. "He was a bad, bad guy," She whimpered, whining out, "Unlike you. You're so good. Such a good boy, Ade."

Fuck. That got him. He smiled as he guided her onto his cock with one hand. The other was clamped around her chin, pulling her lips onto his. Her hot, wet mouth was heavenly. The way it felt, it was the most amazing thing he had ever felt. He'd never felt anything so amazing. He was practically delirious with pleasure. She smiled against his mouth, and he felt her fingers dig into his scalp as she held on.

Mumbling against his mouth, she declared, "Sweetheart, I'll come soon. I'm so close. Don't stop." And he didn't. He removed the hand from her chin and placed it back on her hip, roughly pulling her down on him as he surged upwards. He tried his best to not lose control, but the feel of her body moving over him was driving him mad.

"So tight, squish," he said, breathlessly. "You feel so fucking good." Y/N moaned, her head rolling back onto his shoulder as she rode him, her breasts bouncing with every thrust, her pussy squeezing his erection. She panted and cried out, a noise that sounded like a cross between ecstasy and anguish.

"I'm... I'm so..." She cried, her body trembling as her orgasm washed over her. Adrian held her close, keeping her steady as she came down from her high, feeling her heart race against his chest. He felt like the most content man on earth.

Now it was his turn. He let her flop forward, face first into the pillow and mercilessly railed into her, holding onto the headboard for support as she whined into the cushion.. It was reckless, completely out of his control, but he couldn't stop himself. He was on the edge of his limits, teetering, and he couldn't stop. He knew she could take it. He came hard, his every muscle shaking and twitching as his body tensed and spasmed.

Falling on top of her with an unceremonious thump, he tried to regain his breath, his thumbs drawing little circles on her already bruised hips. Awkwardly reaching her hand back, she comfortingly scratched at the tuft of hair at the nape of his neck. He loved the feeling of her fingers sliding through his hair. Always had. Always will.

"Mind if we stay like this for a while? Me squishing you like I always used to? That is how you got your nickname." When she nodded, he turned his face into her neck, kissing the side of her throat and inhaling her scent. Grunting and squeezing her tighter, he quizzed, "Got work today?"

"Yeah."

Slowly moving his hips again, he pleaded, "Call in sick and stay with me?"

"Sweetheart."

"Squish?"

Craning her neck back to look at him, she accidently knocked their noses together as she saw those big puppy dog eyes and couldn't refuse them. His face was serious, even a bit scared that she would say no. She needed him as much as he did her. Her Ade. Her heart melted and she smiled.

"Only if you sing to me again."

"No way." Jokingly, she tried to wiggle out from under him, but he quickly gave in. "Fine! Fine. I'll serenade you. Totally cringe and cheesy, but I'll do it."

Eventually removing himself from her, he sat and waited for her to move onto his lap, her arms wrapping around his neck when she did. Giving her a soft peck on the lips, he took a breath and started mumbling out the words to the song he sung last night.

🎵Guess mine is not the first heart broken

My eyes are not the first to cry

I'm not the first to know

There's just no getting over you🎵

Teasingly, she called out, "What was that? I can't hear you, sweetie. You're going to have to get louder."

Laughing, he shook his head and begged, "Can you sing it with me?" She nodded, snuggling closer and joining in.

🎵I know I'm just a fool who's willing

To sit around and wait for you

But baby, can't you see there's nothing else for me to do?

I'm hopelessly devoted to you🎵

Before they could get to the chorus, he stopped and snogged the hell out of her. Y/N wasn't expecting it, and it caught her off guard, but she loved it. Pulling away to rest their foreheads together, he whined, "Don't make me sing the rest of it."

She giggled and bit her lip. She teased, "Aw, you're no fun." In response, he tackled her and immediately attached his mouth to her neck. Prepared for round two to commence. He'd show her how fun he could be.

#adrian chase #vigilante #vigilante x reader #adrian chase x female reader #Youtube

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d3m0l1t10n-lvrs · 1 year

Text

Inkdrop Literature chapter 3!

AO3 version

You watched from the cash register as Sun sat criss cross applesauce on the carpet in the kid's section, reading to a few children. You giggled to yourself as he did goofy voices for each character, and waved his hand as he spoke. It was common for Sun and Moon to entertain kids who came in with their parents, with coloring books, stories, showing them the plants, really anything those two do kids love. They worked in a daycare before the pizzaplex went out of business, after all.

""Oh, my prince!", The princess said!" Sun did a silly high pitched voice, earning a few giggles from the children. Just as he was about to turn the page, you two made eye contact. He smiled and waved, you returned the favor, feeling your face heat up from being noticed.

You turned to the computer, only to see two red dots behind your reflection. "Hey, Moon" you greeted, not looking back as you turned on the device. "Someone caught your eye?" He teased, leaning down so his head was beside yours. You lightly smacked his faceplate. "It's just amazing how good with kids you two are, I guess."

"Well, it's what we were programmed to do! Though, it did take some time to get used to."

"What do you mean?" You faced him and tilted your head.

"Well," he sat down next to you, though his eyes were on Sun, who was still reading. "Though we were programmed to take care of children, we still needed practice. For months, we took care of plushies and dolls, feeding them, changing them, playing with them... But, only once were we given a human to practice with. It... Nevermind." He balled his fists and took deep breath. "A-anyway, when we were finally placed in the daycare, it was a disaster! Sun and I didn't know what to do. Dolls stayed quiet and still, but the children were rambunctious! We basically had to teach ourselves."

You nodded, taking in all the new information, and when it finally processed, you were, to put it lightly, pissed. "What?!" You exclaimed, "that's bullshit! They trained you with DOLLS? Do they even know how stupid that is?!" You groaned in frustration.

Moon sighed. "I know, I know. Our da-... Creator, wasn't very attentive."

"I'm sorry." You couldn't help but feel bad for them. You couldn't imagine being only a few months old, being thrown into a daycare and responsible for other people's kids. That sounds like way too much pressure and too many legal problems.

"Don't be. We learned." Moon shrugged. "The past is the past. And while it still hurts that they did that, there's not much you can do but live in the present, you know?" He rested his head on his hand and sighed. "And I think he present is pretty good." He then looked at you and smiled.

"I think so too, buddy."

"Thank you!" Sun said as he saw the last costumer out the door. The robot flipped the open sign to closed, and locked the door. "You two know what day it is?" Sun asked cheerfully, and didn't even give you and moon a moment to reply before saying, "Mopping day!"

You and Moon let out loud groans in unison. "Oh, come on! The store isn't that big!" Sun rolled his eyes. "If we work together, it'll be done in no time. Sunflower, could you go upstairs and get the cleaning supplies from the closet?"

You tilted your head. "You trust me enough to go in your guy's house? A-are you sure?" You asked, though the nosy side of you was rubbing their hands together with glee. "Why wouldn't we? You are our favorite employee, after all" Sun smiled. "I'm your ONLY employee" you felt your face heat up slightly.

"Not if you don't hurry and get the cleaning supplies you aren't" Moon joked. "I'm going, I'm going" you responded, heading towards the staircase. It lead to a balcony that wrapped around the interior of the store, all that was up there was more bookshelves, but tucked in the corner, was a blue door with a sun and moon painted on it, with a gold sign that read "Employees Only!"

You twisted the golden knob, and pulled open the door. You were greeted by the smell of pumpkin spice and apple cider, and a cozy little room. You stepped inside, and noted the ungodly amount of plants in the room. You didn't think it was possible for them to have any more!

There were two beds on ether side of the room, a charging cord resting on each. The brighter bed, you assumed it was Sun's, held many stuffed animals and pillows, which made you smile. The darker side of the room had many vinyl records on the walls, along with a small desk that held an open notebook. You scolded the nosy side of you, and looked away from the notebook.

...

Well, one peek wouldn't hurt, right?

Your nosy side getting the best of you, you walked over to the desk and read the open diary entry.

"Good evening, diary.

It happened again. I slipped. I was talking to a customer, when suddenly, the overwhelming urge to... Hurt, came into my mind. It was like a voice, yet my own thoughts at the same time. I had slammed their cupcake on the counter with so much force that it splattered everywhere! I apologized so much, my voice box may as well have given out. I can't do this for much longer, when will I snap? When will I hurt someone, especially Sun and our little Daydream? I don't want to be that person again. I can't be that person again.

Goodnight.

-Moondrop"

You sat there for a few moments, in shock at what you had just read. What could this mean? Hurt? Moon wouldn't hurt a fly!

It seems your friends had been hiding something from you, and you wanted to get to the bottom of it.

#fnaf security breach #fnaf superstar daycare #inkdrop literature #inkdrop literature au #sundrop #daycare attendant sun #fnaf sun #moondrop #moon fnaf #fnaf moon #fnaf dca #fnaf fanfic #bookstore au #sun x y/n #sundrop and moondrop #sun x reader #sun and moon x reader #moon x reader #moon x y/n

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meritatem · 9 months

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Prior to moving out from the mansion, Tim thought carefully about the challenges that awaited all of them. Adjusting to a life without Bruce would be hard but not impossible, he just had to persevere and do his best, because that's what Bruce would've wanted. Tim couldn't waste time on doubts, hesitancy or dwell too much into irrational theories when Dick needed him, when Gotham needed them.

Of course when Tim thought about all of that, he imagined very differently what challenges he was going to face. Never, not even with his great ability to devise hundreds and hundreds of scenarios, could his mind come up with something as twisted like the scene he found when he entered the kitchen that morning. The kitchen island was occupied by Dick, Damian and even Alfred. There was nothing strange about them taking breakfast together... if you lived in Bizarro World, that is. This was one of the things Tim couldn't forgive himself to letting slip in; at some point when he wasn't looking, Damian lured Alfred and Dick into a fake sense of bonding and stablished himself as harmless, like the little knockoff Omen child could be anything else but deadly.

“Master Tim, good morning.”

“Drake.”

“Hi, Tim, you're on time! Damian made waffles and they're really good.”

“Don't coddle me, Grayson.”

“But it's true.”

“Acknowledging one's faults is the path to improvement.”

Tim felt the need to take a quick drug test, just to make sure he wasn't under something. But no, this was reality, this was the result of Damian's masterful manipulations and he'll need a way - and quickly - to convince Alfred and Dick that they needed to be wary of him. Just the fact that Damian was cooking should've been their first clue to see something was off! It was obvious he was doing all of this so he could state a precedent, so when he finally decided to poison them, he wouldn't any find resistance, just willing victims.

“I think I'll pass.”

Like he had been doing since coming to the penthouse, Tim made a point of taking the breakfast Alfred left for him in the counter, anticipating his negative to eat anything made by Damian. This time however, instead of retiring with plate in hand, he decided to sit next to Dick, in a display that was meant to show Damian that Tim wasn't going to give him the power of chasing him away anymore with his presence.

Even if he was annoyed with the situation, Tim had to admit that there was some pleasantness in just to sit there and eat with Alfred and Dick, something that wasn't customary when Bruce was around, because he put little importance to things like keeping a consistent eating schedule. After they got rid of Damian, it'd be nice if they kept on doing this.

“Say, Drake,” he said so unexpectedly that Tim almost flinched. “Would you consider that waffles are breakfast? Or dessert?”

“....what?”

“Grayson says it's breakfast but Pennyworth thinks it's dessert. What's your opinion?”

Tim doubted for a moment if he heard that right, because seriously what even was that question. He glanced quickly at Alfred and Dick, hoping to find in their expressions some indication of this being a poor attempt on Damian's part to be funny, but there was nothing.

“Breakfast?” He finally said, doubtfully.

“See?” Dick smiled with glee. “Told you!”

“But the way they're normally served should count as a dessert with that much sugar.”

“Cereal has a lot of sugar too and it's breakfast.”

“You also eat cereal at night, I can't trust your judgment.”

“Hey!” He exclaimed with offense. “Cereal is a multipurpose food.”

Damian was about to refute that, but then he remembered vaguely seeing a recipe somewhere in his books about cereal bars, something he actually wanted to try. “I'll allow it.”

Tim discreetly took his own pulse just to make sure about the possibility of those hypothetical hallucinogens. Nope. Seemed fine. He looked at Alfred, who was eating with his usual poise, fork and knife in hands; the only response he got when Alfred caught his eyes was an elegantly raised eyebrow, his very own way of saying “I found this ridiculous but I won't fight it”, a look that Tim saw a lot being directed at Bruce in the past.

He almost shivered when the epiphany finally hit him: Dick and Alfred actually liked the gremlin, like genuinely, not in a “well he's Bruce's so what can you do”, but more like “look at this murderous Chihuahua, it's mine now” kind of way.

They were doomed.

Existed very few, very specific things Damian missed about the future... being taller was one of them. Not having to do homework was another.

Such thing was so demeaning, he could've doctorates if he wished by now! And while he understood the necessity behind this busywork to keep Pennyworth satisfied with his development, it didn't make it less boring or exasperating. It was a times like this he wished he could tell Alfred the truth, but time travel was a problem of its own, even if he wasn't the first one to do it and surely not the last, making a revelation such as this always carried a new set of issues and Damian currently had a lot to worry about to add more.

So, homework. Honestly this was the closest he felt in relation to his current age and it sucked.

He decided that if he had to keep doing such tedious task, he deserved to ransack the refrigerator for his troubles. But when he approached the door of his room, he stopped and frowned; his hesitation lasted just few seconds before he precipitously opened the door, right hand firm on the knob.

“What can I help you with?”

On the other side he was greeted by the figure of a very startled Dick Grayson.

“Hi, Damian,” he said, a little unconvincing. “Right, so, I'm taking the Batmobile for some field testing tonight and I wanted to ask if you'd like to come with me.”

“Why? I already taught you everything you need to know.”

“Yeah, but,” and Damian didn't understood why Dick seemed so sheepish until his next words. “This is my last patrol as Nigthwing and some company would be nice.”

This must be cosmic punishment for complaining so much about homework. “...why don't you ask Drake?”

“I'm going to see Timmy a lot from now on so I thought we could do this just the two of us, like last time, it wasn't that bad, right?”

“I suppose not.”

“Then it's that a yes? You can also say no, I don't want you to feel obligated to accept.”

“Tt! I told you to stop thinking about me like that. I am, in simply words, the boss of me and I have no problems with accompanying you.”

That, of course, was a lie.

Damian was going to absolutely blame his child brain for getting carried away, just because he felt slightly peeved at Dick for trying to give him the kid glove treatment, so to speak.

It was evident that it didn't matter how much he tried to stay away from situations where feelings would be a problem, he found his way into them anyway. Now instead of worrying about his stupid homework, Damian had to spend the rest of the day trying to prepare himself for the emotional challenges that were awaiting him later... caring about people was such a curse.

But maybe, maybe it didn't have to be, not this time. This was an end and probably exactly what Damian needed it.

Looking back with the benefit of a lot of insight, Damian knew that the reason of his disgruntlement on the last day he and Grayson went out as Batman and Robin, was because he was hurt by Dick's sudden decision to quit; they had been working so well together and then out of nowhere, Dick announced he was going back to be Nightwing, turning Damian's world upside down. In the end, after that whole mess with Deathwing, Richard did get to explain to him - even if it wasn't in too many words - the reasoning behind this abrupt departure.

Awake or dreaming, Damian visited countless times the memory of that lone rooftop somewhere in Blüdhaven. And sometimes... sometimes the Richard in his imagination even called him that one word the real one never could.

Although Damian was altering the past he couldn't erase and remade his own. His regrets, his mistakes, his choices, all of that and more were set in stone, even if he was the only one left in the world who could read what the inscription said. But this was an opportunity to take something he regretted and make a kinder memory out of it; it'd would be a better farewell to his days as Grayson's Robin, like the last voyage of a ship. Damian couldn't change his own lived experiences, but he could make his own rituals to honor the meaningful lost moments of his past.

This new prospect made him feel better about his impulsive plans with Dick, so he decided it was best to stop moping in his bed and hurry up to secure a specific item he wanted to bring with him to patrol.

Pennyworth was thrilled - at least what passed for thrilled on his countenance - when hours later he saw them getting ready to head out together, but whatever he was thinking at the unusual occurrence, he didn't comment on it and instead just acted like it was an everyday thing, keeping quiet too about Damian's decision of not taking his sword with him for the first time since he started patrolling.

Damian got into the Batmobile pointedly trying not to look at Dick, not wanting to take the risk of staring, so instead he tried to kept busy looking at the scenery. It was so different to ride again the Batmobile - his, not least - compared to the last time he was in the co-pilot seat. He never thought he'd miss looking at the filthy streets of Gotham through red tinted glass, but maybe it was less about the familiarity of the roads and more about the person behind the wheel.

The shadows from the street lamps, the rumbling of the engine and the almost forgotten feeling of leaving his safety at the hands of another, made Damian contemplate the idea of folding his arms over the window sill and stop thinking for a bit, enjoying the ride for what it was. However it seemed like Dick wasn't all too keen about the companionable silence, because he spoke in that exact tone that sounded casual but it was all pretense.

“I saw you registered yourself as an agent.”

Damian didn't see why such topic warranted Grayson's attempt at nonchalance, but he answered without much thought. “Seemed appropriate given I'm an active operative.”

For a moment he assumed they were done with the matter, but Dick actually counted seconds before speaking again. “So, No One, uh? I thought you didn't want an identity.”

After the scene Damian put to reject the Robin mantle, it made sense the extra effort Grayson was giving into sounding casual to approach his apparent change of heart.

“I don't, that's why I didn't pick one. I'm just a no one in a sea of names and somebodies.”

Dick could almost sigh, because of course that was Damian's answer. At this point hearing him talk was like a roulette: sometimes Dick felt worried, others he was perplexed, recurrently he was amused and a times he was annoyed, but more often than not, what he felt the most was the desire to just touch him; a hand on his shoulder, a pat on the head, a squeeze on his hand, a hug, anything, but they weren't close enough for Damian to allow any of that. Dick just wanted to physically be able to comfort him, even if he seemed to unfazed by the harshness of his time in the League, because that was what it made it worst, the fact that everything he went through was so normal for him, that Damian just treated it like a mild annoyance.

“All right,” Dick said cheerfully, trying not to get discouraged so soon when they were just starting. “Time to test the flying. Let's go up, up and away.”

The first time Damian had gotten this Batmobile to fly, hadn't been as flawless as he would've liked, so he subsequently made the necessary adjustments and changes. Needless to say he applied all that previous knowledge this new time around, so he couldn't help the surge of pride that washed over him when he felt the subtle transition between the vehicle's mechanisms as it rose smoothly, even though he spent hours and hours testing these same aerial capabilities, there was a capricious glee in being present the first time they were used over Gotham's night sky.

Dick whistled appreciatively and then chucked a little. “This is going to take some time to get used to.”

Damian didn't know if he meant the flying part of the scenery that unfolded before their eyes. Gotham had been called many things, beautiful was rarely one of those, but so high in the air it couldn't be denied that it had a very unique charm at night, like it was trying to mirror a sky with all of its artificial lights.

“When I was Robin I would've kill for a flying Batmobile.”

Damian resisted the grisly impulse to tell him he'd killed for less than that, so instead he just made a dismissing gesture with his hand. “Drake is not as appreciative.”

“He'll change his mind after a night or two, this is too cool to dislike it.”

Seeing how annoying Tim had been the last few days, Damian almost wished he keep being mad.

Whether Dick used the Batmobile as an excuse to spend time with him or not, at least he took very seriously the testing part. Damian always assumed Grayson's natural disposition to show-off played an unconscious role in the way he piloted, especially after his father came back and Dick felt more relaxed using the cowl. And when he closed his eyes, concentrating on feeling every turn, up, down and change of speed, for an instant if was like he was really back there, in his early days as Robin, so contented at Dick's side.

But everything ended sooner than he would've liked when they received a call from Oracle, claiming strange activity with the security system in the Museum of History. Damian just hoped it wasn't Catwoman because he wasn't on the mood to deal with her antics or ambiguous alignment, not when he had better things to do like trying to make the most of this night. Fortunately for his mental state, in the end it wasn't Selina the one trying to rob some random object but a group trying a daring attempt at a heist, something Damian felt infinitely more enthusiastic about. Stopping the five thieves was all too easy, given they weren't skilled fighters and lucky for them, Damian wasn't as brazen as he had once been, because he felt a bit affronted at having his time flying around with Grayson cut short for this.

Dick left him in charge of keeping an eye on the tied up criminals while he went to free the museum night guards, which made sense, because Damian doubted Dick wanted to parade him around. It was easier for Batman to fight crime with questionably young sidekicks than it was for Nightwing, so the less people seeing him with Grayson this night, the better.

While he was waiting his eyes wandered around and stopped in the nearest exhibition wing, which was closed at the moment in preparation for the next one, that was, according to all the advertisement surrounding it, Egyptian themed. Damian took a few steps in its direction, suddenly interested in one of the banners that in plain sight didn't seem very noteworthy, just standard depictions of Egyptian gods and from them, it was Anubis the one that caught his attention because upon seeing it, it came to his mind the image of his grandfather, rambling and frenzied, offering to him with trembling hands a very Anubis-like mask, all while begging him to take his place as leader of The League. Damian used to wonder if the original version of him, the one really meant for such gruesome future, would had accepted his grandfather's offer when everything else was lost to him... but maybe his answer would've been the same, because the person he was now lost everything too, but he still refused to stray from the path a circus fool put him into years ago, with bright colors and a cherished name.

“The police is almost here, time to go.” Speaking of fools.

Damian gave the banners one last look before sprinting back to Grayson's side like the obedient child he never was. He could ponder about the past, the future and the what-ifs to the point of madness, but only one thing mattered in the end: the present, this present.

From then on, patrol was like a facsimile of his old days as Dick's Robin: rescue a couple from being mugged in the street, interfere in the looting of a department store, break up a gang war and finally, stop Firefly from doing whatever the hell he was trying to do while wreaking chaos.

Just as before, Damian had to go away when the GCPD arrived, letting Dick exchange information with the commissioner. He chose the roof of a close building, walking a little until he reached the side that was better hidden in the shadows and sat at the edge to wait, distractedly swinging his feet a little while he was at it. As a kid Damian hated doing anything that could be considered, even slightly, as childish; sometimes he succumbed to silly whims but more often than not, he deprived himself of the littlest things: jumping on puddles of water, making hand shadows, using curly straws or swing his feet when he was sitting high enough. Damian would never know what it was to do those things when he was a kid, but he was done being just another person of the many that denied him a childhood.

Just when he was contemplating the need to add laced up boots to his new uniform, whatever that was going to be, Dick landed gracefully right at his side.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Before Damian could even give indication that he was standing up, Grayson sat next to him, faking a tired sigh. “What a night, right, chum?”

“Don't make me hurt you.”

Dick laughed and this time when he deeply sighed, he did it genuinely. He took a moment to look at the sky, free of the sign that called for Batman almost every night, because at least for this one there was some semblance of peace. “I know doing this isn't supposed to be fun, but it was, at least today. Thank you for coming with me, I really appreciate it.”

He never was good at receiving thanks, not unless it was in a situation he found appropriate to gloat or that he could dismiss, this was neither so Damian hurried to search in his belt to took one packet from one of its pockets, shoving it to Dick. “Here.”

“Wha—?”

“Positive reinforcement for a job well done.” He immediately said, like it was something expected.

Grayson's confusion gave way to pleasant surprise when he realized what was given to him: a bag of jelly beans. “These are my favorites.”

Damian knew, just like he knew that Dick liked macaroni and cheese. Even when this Grayson wasn't the one that once sat in front of a drill and refused to push back to save his life at the cost of Damian's, here Damian was, trying to chase after his approval in the most meaningless things, to the point that he searched frantically that afternoon for that specific brand of candy. Grayson wasn't the only fool in that roof.

Dick inspected the packet and suddenly his smile turned a little sad. “You know, your dad used to carry around sweets in his belt too.”

It wasn't like Damian was trying to be insensitive, but he detested talking about his father in this context. He didn't deserve to partake in the grief of Pennyworth or Grayson, hell, even Drake, when he knew full well that his father wasn't dead, it'd feel hypocritical and even cruel to do so. If it wasn't for the fact that there was so much at stake, he would've already told them the truth, because he hated seeing them needlessly suffer.

He decided it was better to change the topic and say now what he intended to save for later, when they were in their way back to the bunker.

“I don't know if someone told you this already, but don't try to be him.” At his words that seemed harsh, Dick flinched almost imperceptibly. “Everything else was a mask for him, his real self was Batman and that's something none of us can ever dream to replicate, you'll destroy yourself if you do.” And he closed his eyes, feeling the phantom presence of a cowl over his head. “Your strengths and your weakness lie in different places from his, learn that and use it to be a better version of Batman, your own version... there will be moments when the cowl will feel like a noose around your neck and the cape like an anchor dragging you to the abyss, when that happens, when you feel like you're losing yourself to the mask, please, reach for us.” He suppressed a sigh and took a breath to keep his voice steady. "What's the point of having all these misfits united under the same crusade if you will not call for us? That was my father's biggest flaw, trying to carry the weight of this life alone. I know that's not the person you are and that's why you'll be everything he could not. Nightwing,” and he took a moment to swallow in an attempt to chase away the aggravating lump in his throat that treatened tears after. “You are going to be the best, no matter what anyone thinks.”

While it didn't seem like a smart move to talk about his father with so much understanding, Damian could always blame a lot of things for his otherwise inexplicably knowledge of him. There was still so much he wanted to say, things he wished he told his Richard when he had the chance, but none of it would make sense for this Grayson that saw them as a pair of strangers. Still, he was entirely taken by surprise when he unexpectedly found himself in Grayson's arms, who without warning proceeded to hug him moments later after he stopped talking; as expected, Damian tensed up as soon as Dick made contact, in a mix of his current reflexes and the sheer horror that it was to be held by someone he so dearly missed, even when they were next to each other.

“Shhh, I know, I know, I'm sorry,” Dick muttered trying to placate him, feeling his obvious uneasiness. “I should've ask, sorry, just, for a little bit, please.”

Damian stayed still, like a cornered animal, refusing to even try and relax because he knew that as soon as he did, he ran the risk of doing something stupid, like giving in and return the hug when he knew Dick was only hugging him as some kind of misplaced gratitude, not because it was something he really wished to share with him. Damian could endure this and stay composed, even if it was more for his own sake than Grayson's.

“Thank you, I'm going to let you go now.” Dick announced after that if felt like an agonizing eternity. “Damian,” and the name was said so low as to be only heard by him, like Grayson was trying to protect his identity from some imaginary audience. “I'm really happy you're here.”

Damian had to physically restraint himself from trying to follow after Dick when he finally released him, and who would've thought? That fighting affection was harder for him than pain. His mother would be appalled.

“I did tell you,” and Damian was elated that he sounded so normal when inside him felt like a raging storm. “You're lucky to have my help.” He repeated the same phrase he said in what it felt so long ago, when Dick still looked at him with suspicion.

And Grayson, he just smiled at him, relaxed and trusting like he never was anything else in his presence. “Yeah, I really am.”

Damian knew then, that if he tried to study Dick now, he would probably find an echo, however small and flimsy, of what he had been looking for that first time so many nights ago in the middle of the Batcave. And that was enough.

It was worth everything.

⪻Chapter 7

Chapter 9⪼

#f.r.w.#chap8

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