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hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch · 1 year

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Broken Bones

Summary: You went out with your friends, how did you end up in this situation? Venom is meant to keep you safe, if they couldn't do it this time then you're really in trouble, will Wanda come to your aid? God you really hoped so.

Words: 1,737

Warnings 18+ Minors DNI angst, cuteness nothing else I think

You opened your eyes slowly to the heavy rain on your face and the blood in your mouth, trying to blink away any remaining blurriness you attempted to lift your body up but you felt so weak it was way too painful

"V-Venom....help"

The symbiote didn't respond right away instead giving a low growl unable to move themselves or your body either

"We....we were beaten...call...call Wanda"

Coughing up some more blood you managed to sit up looking around finding yourself in a alleyway surrounded by two dead men with their heads missing, no prizes for wondering where they might be

"What happened?" You closed your eyes when you felt the nauseous feeling flow through your body again

"We were ambushed...leaving the...club c-caught off guard"

You couldn't stand being sat up anymore and dropped back to the ground with a heavy thud

"Y/n...I feel...feel the body dying"

No response from you

"Y/n? Y/n?!"

They tried again, even trying to move your body, unfortunately they were just as weak as you and flopped back down to the ground too, you both felt the light fading from your body, silence engulfing you and your whole body breaking down, your last conscious hope was that Wanda came to your rescue at the last minute.

"So where's the alien human hybrid tonight?" Nat spooked Wanda who was in the kitchen making you your favourite food for when you got back

"Nat! Don't scare me like that I have a hot spoon" Wanda nearly dropped the whole pot of stew for you over the floor

"Sorry Wands it must be my super secret and intense spy training" she whipped past the witch grabbing a spoon to taste what she'd made "hmm nice, maybe a little more paprika" she winked and Wanda groaned rolling her eyes "she doesn't like paprika Nat"

"so where is the love of your life?" Nat took another taste of the stew much to Wanda's annoyance "stop contaminating the food"

Wanda put the stew into the oven to keep warm for you looking back to her Russian friend "she went out to meet some friends at a club"

"You don't sound so happy about that"

Wanda shrugged sitting down on the couch with Nat "I'm happy she wants to go out with her friends but I'm still nervous because of Venom, I just hope they behave"

Nat laughed "what's the worse thing that could happen in a couple of hours?"

***************************************************

“Y/n! Y/n! Oh god” the loud voice gave you a small jolt and you managed to move a little but you felt so heavy going in and out of consciousness that it was pointless.

“Please don’t be dead Wanda will kill me! Also I obviously don’t want to lose you but I just want to make sure you’re not too injured, you look pretty bad though, is this your blood or the other guys? Wait is Venom still in there? Venom! Can you hear me? I probably shouldn’t shout down your ear I’m sorry”

Peter was struggling on what to do, does he pick you up and swing you back to the compound? No that would probably hurt you more but if he called Wanda would she be mad? No she'd be happy because he called her.

In all of his crises thinking someone else jumped next to him “Peter are you really struggling to know what to do, Y/n is nearly dead call Wanda”

Yelena is always so calm in these situations but at this moment she was terrified, Wanda is going to be like a bomb going off, she would destroy the world to keep you safe,

She heard Peter speaking into the phone "h-hey Wanda erm...Y/n is hurt....yeah yeah just outside....yeah that place...okay b-

Wanda turned up so quick that Peter didn’t even have a chance to hang up the phone and before he could try again Wanda's voice was heard by both young avengers

“Peter where is she?!” Wanda’s eyes were a deep angry red, power coming off her in waves making the young avengers step back letting her fall to the ground looking at you “my bednyazhka, please get up, please” she cried over and over again until a hand on her shoulder stopped her

“Wanda come on let’s get her back to the compound, maybe Bruce can help her”

Wanda shook her head “no! I have to fix her! I’m taking her to the cabin” with slow movements her magic lifted you up careful not to hurt you and went to leave “Wanda, let me come with you”

She looked at Nat who also had tears in her eyes “I want to help her too, and if we can’t save her then you need someone to lean on, I won’t let you be on your own” both women were crying now and Wanda nodded her head “okay okay you can come”

Nat turned her head to the two watching “you two go back to the compound and tell them nothing, you hear me? Yelena be a good sister for once"

The blonde pretended to think about it for a bit “okay Sestra, just don’t do anything crazy”

Peter just nodded in agreement scared to say anything else

The two older women walked off with you eventually disappearing and reappearing in the cozy cabin “come on Wanda lay her down on the bed” Wanda gently lay you on the bed kissing your forehead

“What do we do now?” Nat rounded the bed seating herself on the other side of you “I’m going to look to see if she’s okay in her mind”

Wanda ghosted her fingers over your temple sending sparks through your mind finding herself in your mind, you were alive thank god

“moya lyubov please wake up” Wanda spoke into your mind and she felt a small jolt, thinking it was you instead it was Venom

“Wanda? Y/n is very weak help her!”

Wanda fell out of your mind being followed by Venom’s head and some tentacles, that was something she'd never get used to

“What happened?” Wanda asked the symbiote “I thought you could heal her, that’s your only job, you've healed her broken bones before so what’s the difference?!” Wanda was getting angrier and Nat held her back from doing something she might regret, knowing that she would hurt you more than Venom

“They ambushed us with sound and fire, they tried burning us which I cannot handle and then they used poles to wrap around us banging them to create horrible sound waves, I eventually managed to kill them but the damage was done and it hurt too much to do anything about it, I can help her but I need time to reserve some energy”

They retreated back into your body for safety and to help sort your body out.

Wanda grabbed Nat’s hand “she needs rest, I think Venom can help her wake up”

Nat lent down kissing Wanda on the cheek then kissing you on the forehead “I’m going to check around the cabin, make sure we’re truly alone”

Wanda thanked Nat and looked back to you “it’s going to be okay detka, you’re safe now”

***********************************

You felt yourself waking up slowly, your body no longer hurting and the splitting headache no longer threatening your life

“Y/n you are awake! Tell Wanda!”

You groaned lifting yourself from the soft bed falling out for Wanda “Wanda? Wanda are you here?” Your voice was quiet but you heard quick footsteps from another room burst into your own “Y/n! Oh my god you’re alive!”

She practically tackled you to the bed kissing you all over your face and hugging you right “I thought you’d never wake up please don’t ever go out without me again”

Nat quickly entered the room behind smiling wide “Y/n! God you look terrible but I’m glad you’re awake" your friend was always positive about your bad situations

Wanda peeled herself off of you when you complained you couldn't breathe "sorry detka I'm just so excited you're alive, what do you remember?"

Nat sat down on the chair facing the bed and you sat up, groaning at the alight pain in your body "I just remember leaving the club because my friends left early-

"They left you alone?! They promised not to leave you!" Wanda was pissed off, she'd never leave you alone she'd die first before that happened

"I told them about Venom and they freaked out calling me weird and then just left" tears were brimming in your eyes "its hurtful, they think I'm a freak"

Wanda shushed you "detka you are not a freak, you are a beautiful, passionate and loving woman, you just have an...extra friend"

Nat held in her laugh by pretending to look at her shoes when Wanda glared at her "Nat!"

"I'm not laughing! But "extra friend?" come on Wanda, they're an alien from outer space or something, call it what it is"

You giggled at Nat "so straight forward Nat, it's true though, they're an alien that decided I'd be the best host for them"

"You are a perfect host! I would never be able to survive for long periods without going back into your body every few hours!"

You smiled "thanks Venom"

"Do you need to rest more princess?" Wanda stroked your cheek and kissed you softly trying to hold herself back from continuing to kiss you all over

"Yeah if that's okay?" You lay back against the pillows closing your eyes

"Of course my love, we'll let you sleep" she gave you a last kiss on the cheek leaving the room with Nat

"Wanda I know that look" Nat said concerned "don't do anything you'll regret"

The witch's eyes glowed red "I won't regret protecting my girlfriend Nat, she was nearly left for dead! They deserve to feel as bad as she did!"

Her voice rise made Nat nervous, she knew how Wanda could be when it came to you and it was nerve wrecking "Wanda you know Tony would kill me if you did anything dangerous to someone"

"Then you won't tell him will you?" She said in a low voice pushing past Nat "Wanda-

"Look after Y/n, I'll be back later with dinner"

"Wanda you don't even know who actually did it!" Nat tried once last time before she left

"I have a feeling her friends know who did this, they'll tell me" she didn't let Nat say anything else instead slamming the door shut leaving her worried in the cabin "god I'm never going to hear the end of this"

#marvel #wanda maximoff #mcu #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #marvel au #marvel imagine #venom #wanda maximoff x venom reader #venom reader #venom symbiote

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narcissisticmf · 1 year

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unsaid | dean winchester x fem!reader

request: "Heyyy, idk of ur requests are open but if they are can u please write a dean Winchester x ex girlfriend smut who is a hunter and who dean is still not over. Sam and Dean rescue her from a vampire nest and dean is angry and worried after her and she's all like "stop acting like you care" and he says something like I'll show u how much I care" + angst + kinda enemies x lovers + dark dean? + marking ; ( set in early seasons llke;1,2,3)" from anonymous

description: after nearly losing y/n to a nest of vampires, her and dean quarrel which leads to something more.

trigger warnings: angst, gun usage, sexual content, seductive behavior, arguing, foul language, marking, oral sex, unprotected sex, etc. please do not proceed in reading if you are under the age of 18.

word count: 2.5k

With your wrists tied tightly in thick rope, you could smell the blood that seeped out from your bruised skin as you were beginning to regain consciousness. You found yourself in a dark room, the only light that shone was from the subtle crack of the door. You were held against a wooden pillar, the rope wasn't giving in as you tried to free yourself.

Your machete was lying against a coffee table in the middle of the room. You lifted your head to see a small group of people coming in through the slightly opened door.

Squinting your eyes, you saw them coming closer dressed in Mick Jagger styled clothing. You parted your lips and stared at them as them headed towards you, strutting as though they were at the top of the hierarchy of monsters.

"You're the morons that jumped me?! You look like a bunch of high school rejects," You laughed as they surrounded you, most of them were men and a few of them were women.

"I'd be careful what you say next, honey," The tallest of them lowered his head to whisper in your ear. You quickly went from laughing to rage, flaring your nostrils as you glared at them.

"Or what? You'll kill me? How original," You snapped.

"We could, but that wouldn't be as fun as watching you bleed out.. dry," He stood up straight and smiled, fangs beginning to push through his gums.

The whole time you had been attempting to pull out your pocketknife from your back pocket, so the more you spoke the more distracted they were to these actions.

"Not very smart," You replied. You used your left hand to reach into your right back pocket, where the knife sat.

"Why's that?" He questioned with a chuckle.

"Well the longer you let me sit here, the longer it'll take me to find a way out," You stated. His face dropped, but his fangs were still out. You were able to grab the pocketknife, flip it open and cut through the rope the whole time, without their acknowledgment.

The sound of the door being kicked open made you all turn your heads to see who was there and to your lucky surprise, it was the Winchesters. You smirked subtly as the vampires rushed towards them which gave you time to cut yourself free.

Once you freed yourself, you hurried across the room and lunged for your machete that was sitting on the coffee table. You snatched it by the handle and hurried towards the vampires. You swung it at one of their necks, decapitating one of them to see Sam standing before you.

"Thanks for backing me up," You spoke quickly.

"No problem," Sam replied.

You turned to see Dean taking on three vampires, so you went to his assistance and swung your blade across one's neck, beheading them effortlessly. It didn't take long before you all had wiped out the entire nest.

Walking along the grass, you were beside Sam as Dean followed. You were still tired from being knocked out and the bruises were still upon your wrists, along with the blood that seemed to have dried by now.

"You could've been killed, Y/N/N," Dean finally spoke as you stopped in your tracks and turned to look at him.

"Don't act like you give a rat's ass about me, Dean," You grumbled. Sam awkwardly climbed into the Impala as you and his brother began to argue.

"I do care!" Dean defended. "Despite what happened between you and me a long time ago, I don't ever wanna see you hurt or worse."

You clenched your jaw and stared at him with exhausted eyes. "I can take care of myself," You replied.

"I never said you couldn't," Dean said.

"But you implied it."

"No, I didn't, actually."

"Yes, you did."

The two of you were stubborn as mules. You stood there, staring at him blankly for a while as stillness filled the atmosphere. The only sound came from crickets singing and frogs croaking. A subtle thunder rumbled in the distant skies.

"Just.. take me back to the motel I'm staying at, it's the Riverside Peak," You whispered, no desire to argue any longer.

Dean said nothing and walked towards the Impala, you headed towards the car and got into the backseat. You released a gentle breath and remembered the few times you had road with the Winchesters in their most luxurious vehicle.

Your dirty fingertips grazed over the leather seat, replaying a few memories you and Dean shared in the back of his car.

The rumble of the engine pulled you from your thoughts.

Once Dean pulled up to the motel room you were staying in, you climbed out of the car and looked through the passenger window at the two of them.

"Thanks again for helping me out, I owe you one," Your lips formed a thin smile as the two of them waved you off.

"We'll be in touch," Sam replied. You nodded and walked towards the door to your room, unlocking it with the key and walking inside. You latched the door shut and listened to the Impala's engine driving off.

You dragged your feet towards the bathroom to have a shower, the feeling of blood and dirt against your skin wasn't one you liked to sleep with. You took a longer shower than normal that night, letting the hot water run down your skin. Goosebumps arose along the surface of your arms and legs as you stood there, beneath the steaming hot water.

The water eased the pain of your wounds the longer you stood in there. With your back facing the showerhead, you leaned your head back to let more of the water run through your hair.

It wasn't long before you got out after having washed your body and hair. You cut the water off and stepped out, grabbing a towel to cling to your body. Drying off, you put on a fresh pair of underwear and a long, baggy t shirt that went down to your mid-thigh.

You let your wet hair rest against your shoulders as you walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen to eat something for dinner. You decided an easy meal was needed after such a frustrating day, so you pulled out one of those microwaveable mac 'n' cheese bowls. It satisfied your hunger enough for the night.

Before you got a chance to eat, there was a knock at your door. In your bare feet, you slowly walked towards the bedside table to grab your handheld gun, holding it at your side in case you needed to use it. You walked towards the door and peaked through the small hole to see who it was.

You furrowed your brow and placed the gun back down onto the bedside table, unlocking the door to open it. Dean was standing there in a red flannel, the same outfit he was in after the vamp nest.

"What do you want?" You asked.

"Can I come in?" He questioned, his tone was soft.

You released a breath and opened the door wider for him to enter the room. You latched it shut behind you, making sure to lock it again.

"Is there a reason you're here, Dean?" You stood behind him as he was walking deeper in the room.

He sniffed a few times, "Are you having mac 'n' cheese?"

"Dean," You spoke sternly and he looked at you with those puppy eyes, "What're you doing here?"

"Right, yeah.." Dean mumbled and stood before you, "I just needed to talk to you."

"At three in the morning?" You asked.

"Yeah," He shrugged his shoulders.

"Dean, this can wait until tomorrow," You turned around and started for the door to let him leave, but he followed after you and held your shoulder.

"No, Y/N, it can't," He breathed out, like he was holding it that wholw time.

"Get off me," You shrugged his hand off you shoulder and turned around to look at him. Your back was pressed against the door.

"Look.." He dragged his fingers down his mouth. "What you said earlier about me not caring about you being hurt.. it's not true."

"But it is true, Dean! You don't care," You snapped. "You didn't care when you walked out on me two years ago and you don't care now!"

"Oh come on, Y/N/N! This is completely different," He argued.

"No, it's fucking not," You clenched your jaw, "You hurt me, Dean.. bad. This.." You gestured to the bruises on your wrists, "is nothing compared to the shit you put me through when you left!"

It was quiet for a while. Tears began to brew in your eyes as did Dean's.

"I do care," He replied.

"Show me," You stated flatly.

"What?" Dean questioned with a furrow in his brow.

"Show me you care," You swallowed a lump that built in the center of your throat.

He looked at you with dilated pupils and walked towards you. You could've sworn the moment happened in slow motion. Dean was looking at you with parted lips as his eyes gazed at every inch of your face.

"I don't know what I would've done if we hadn't made it there in time," He whispered.

"Show me.." You breathed out, feeling the knots in your stomach untangle as he lowered his head to press a kiss to your collarbone that was exposed. You leaned your head back against the door and felt him begin to suck on the soft flesh of your skin.

Your breathing became irregular as Dean worked his way up your neck, leaving darkening circles where his lips touched as a way to mark his territory.

"Dean," You shakily breathed. His hands gripped your wrists and gently pinned them to the door, so you had no way of touching him, yourself or anything around you.

"You scared me today, sweetheart," He mumbled against your skin and pulled his head back to look at you intently.

"You don't care," You whispered, leaning in.

"I do care," He replied softly.

"No," You shook your head.

"Yes," Dean brushed his nose against yours. You closed your eyes as he swiftly kissed your lips. You felt him release your wrists so you could grip your fingers to his flannel at his sides. You felt him slip his tongue in, battling with your own.

You gently pushed your back off the door and without breaking the seal of your kiss, you lead him to the bed in the middle of the room. Dean slowly pulled his head back and looked down at you.

"Is this okay?" He questioned.

"Yes," You nodded.

He smiled as you laid against the bed. Following your actions, Dean climbed onto the bed, hovering over you. You sucked in a gentle breath and pressed your lips to his once more. Without pulling his lips back, he shrugged off his flannel and tossed it onto the floor which became a growing pile of clothes.

Eventually, the two of you were completely undraped. You laid against the pillows as Dean left a trail from his lips down your neck and between your breasts. You closed your eyes at the feeling and released a whimper here and there.

"You feeling okay, sweetheart?" Dean mumbled against your skin.

You couldn't speak and simply nodded, shakily breathing as Dean brought his face up to you. He dragged his fingertips down between your legs as your breath shook. He softly traced them over your inner thigh, causing you to spread them slowly.

Dean's index finger slipped over your center, making you whine quietly. The pad of his finger was coated with your arousal.

"Dean," You whimpered as he smirked down at you, gently pushing two fingers in. At first, you clenched around him, but loosened to his touch once you adjusted to the feeling. You looked up into his eyes, holding eye contact for a while as you gently reached down to hold his wrist as he moved his fingers within you. It was as if he was playing the most beautiful instrument.

He removed his fingers and brought them up to your lips. "Taste yourself, sweetheart," Dean mumbled as you parted your lips to let him slip his fingers inside. "Atta girl.."

Taking his hands back after a while, he pressed kisses along your chest and down your stomach. You arched your back softly against the pillows as his lips came into contact with your folds, sucking on the wetness that coated the outside of them.

You reached down to hold a grip onto his hair, gently pushing him deeper against your center. He dragged his tongue up your folds, tracing the first initial of his name against you.

"Oh.. God," You whispered as goosebumps spread across your skin.

Dean pulled his head up to hover over you once again. The tip of his erect brushed against your folds, making you whine softly. He hushed your noise with his lips against yours. Subtle moans were escaping your mouth as you draped your arms around his neck.

"Ready?" Dean mumbled into your mouth.

"Yes," You nodded as you felt he wasted no time before slipping inside you. The sensation was effortless as you moaned into his mouth. He smiled in the kiss and waited a minute before you were comfortable. You were loose against him as he motioned his hips back and forth at a generous pace.

"Good girl," Dean pulled his head back and gripped the headboard of the bed as he slowly picked up the pace.

You closed your eyes and allowed your body to feel the wonderful sensation. It didn't take long before he found the spot within you. Your eyes opened to look at him as he was so gentle yet rough at the same time. You cupped his face and pressed a longing kiss to his plump lips.

"Can I let go now?" You asked breathlessly into his mouth.

"Yeah," Dean nodded and you could tell he was close as well. You whined and buried your face into his neck as you felt your orgasm unfold within your stomach. He felt you come undone as he took the opportunity to slip out and release his load onto your lower stomach.

You were tired and made a miserable attempt at catching up with your breathing. Dean pressed a kiss against your temple and slowly laid beside you. You reached over to the bedside table to grab a small towel from the drawer to wipe your stomach clean.

Once you did, you tossed it onto the pile of both you and Dean's clothing. You turned your head to look at him and smiled with your lips closed together.

"I do care about you, sweetheart," Dean's voice was low.

"I know," You whispered, "I could see it in your eyes."

a/n: i absolutely love this concept and this was so fun to write!! i'm so happy for the person that requested this because i genuinely had the best time writing it! tysm!! requests are always open, my loves! thank you for reading and supporting me! <33 — angelina.

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walkgojo · 4 months

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⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞, 𝐢 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐝𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞. saturo gojo x fem!reader drabble — sfw!

his mouth had gone dry, his heart pounding in his chest after you finally pressed your lips to his. he couldn't believe how smug you had been. you, this angel who'd typically been so shy in regard to any sort of flirtation. now, his cheeks were dusted with blush, his eyes nearly blown open as he watched you walk away. yuji stood across from gojo, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly before he broke out into a fit of laughter, clutching his stomach. "what the hell just happened?" he mutters, losing all of his typical satoru gojo coolness. he blinks a few times, suddenly coming back to consciousness as his feet start moving before he can think about it. he's moving quickly several meters behind you.

he couldn't even remember the moments that led up to the kiss, only in flashes — your laugh, the stillness that you had summoned, the brush of your hand, the soft sigh you released as your lips touched as if you'd been waiting for this your whole life.

fingers lift to touch the tender skin of his mouth, feeling the residue of that lipgloss he would watch you put on. so it was real. it wasn't some blackout hallucination, some maladaptive daydream.

the ghost of your perfume still hung around him, the residual press of your lips, that damned lip gloss.

he'd fantasized about you for months, letting you deny him from behind that dense flush of your cheeks. he would watch as you tensed when he called you beautiful, when he would talk about taking you out. you insisted that you had to focus on work but his persistence was wearing your resolve thin. that's how you found yourself, fiercely marching toward the man as he laughed along with yuji about something. your fingers circling around his wrist, tugging him toward you as your hand caught the nape of his neck and pulled him into a kiss. you felt him tense, then relax as you both exhaled. you released him with the same fervor, excusing yourself quickly before turning on your heel and made way toward your office. you were reckless, knowing that yuji itadori would say something to his classmates but when had gojo been subtle? his flirtation was often public, much to your embarrassment. why couldn't you live with the same carefree demeanor? your hands are shaking as you flex and relax them — this was why.

"you're just going to kiss me like that and walk away?" he calls after you, his smugness slowly returning as he lurches to grab your arm, "don't do that to me, princess."

#fem!reader x gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo saturo x reader #gojo saturo x you #saturo gojo x reader #saturo gojo #saturo gojo x you #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #saturo gojo drabble #drabble

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bsxcrxts · 10 months

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flightsuit

minors dni. this work is explicit. do not interact without your age in your bio. you must be over 18 to interact with my works.

word count: 800 something

A/N: pinning Luke Skywalker up against a wall in his orange flightsuit, dry humping, Luke's praise kink, needy Luke. takes place on Hoth before the events of ESB! wrote this one in an hour in a fevered desire to flesh out this concept that I've talked about before but never at length

"But I have all my gear on and–"

"Oh honey, do you want me to touch you or not?"

"Yes! Yes. But it's impossible to get out of all of this and back into all of it in time," Luke protests, but he moves to start unbuckling some of the belted straps along the uniform anyway, scrambling.

"Then don't," you suggest. You've managed to pin Luke against the door of his quarters before he rushes off to flight maneuvers with his squadron.

It's hard to believe that the orange flightsuit could look flattering on anyone, but Luke looks good, good enough to distract him from his duties even just for a moment.

He's not wrong about the uniform though. Between the flak vest and the life support unit on his chest, it's hard to get very close to him without pushing buttons you probably shouldn't. You're pressed up against him to his right side to avoid the equipment, practically straddling his thigh, trying to not get tangled in the gear straps hanging around his legs.

Luke can't even really touch you properly in this state, not with his flight gloves on and his right arm practically pinned beneath you like this. In a way, he's at your mercy, though you know if he actually wanted to stop he'd tell you, and the power dynamic is going to your head a little.

He's also right. He's not going to be able to strip out of the getup and back into it with enough time to not appear suspicious. But you don't want him to get out of it.

"Besides, you're already the hero of the Rebellion. A pilot as good as you needs to run practice drills?" you breathe, and take the opportunity to tease him a little. You don't actually believe he shouldn't run flight maneuvers, and he doesn't like to outright brag about destroying the Death Star, but the praise has him biting his lip and squirming against you.

"They-they're expecting me out there and if I don't– haah, mm," Luke interrupts himself with a moan as you run your hand along his bulge, "I-I'll be l-late."

"No, you won't."

Luke gives you a very confused, breathy hhm? noise, his cheeks flushed. It's probably hot in more ways than one for him right now, the flightsuit being made to insulate against the cold of the atmosphere, not for sharing body heat like this.

"You won't be late," you repeat, palming his clothed cock more firmly. The weight of his bulge against your hand nearly makes you lose focus.

Luke almost laughs, his blue eyes are blown, his head tilted back, and if any more of his neck was exposed you'd bite a kiss there where you know he likes it most. He starts offering solutions.

"M-maybe I can just take m-myself out," he starts, hands fumbling for the zipper on his flightsuit again.

"No, baby."

"N-no? Then how 'm I gonna make it in time?" he whines, in typical fashion, but obediently, he stops trying to undo the closures on his uniform.

"You can cum in your pants like this, or you can walk away right now and go run your drills with a hard cock."

"Kriff, I don't– can't finish like this," he protests. He's a fucking liar; Luke's spilled from less before with you, he just wants more.

You let him grind against your hand, hips stuttering against you. You're not even sure he's consciously doing it– the movement sloppy and rushed, obviously intuitive.

"Yes you can baby, look," you draw his attention towards his own motions. He watches himself fuck his clothed cock against your hand and whines, making you almost giggle at his wanton display. "Look at how good you're being right now."

"Wanna cum," Luke chokes out, covering your hand with his own so you can't pull your hand away, and fucking against your palm harder. The surprising motion and insistence with which he grinds against you goes straight to your cunt, and you're practically riding his thigh in return now.

"Stars, good, good boy, take it. Don't have much time, so make a mess for me, okay?" you insist.

"Yes, ffuck, yes," Luke strains against you, cock kicking against your hand, cumming with little haah, mh, mh sounds that make you clench around nothing. You kiss him as his hips slow, and he smiles against your mouth.

When you pull back, there's a cute wet spot on the orange suit where the tip of his cock was pressed against the fabric, which flusters both you and Luke.

"Oh, damn it," he whines. Luckily, the stain is just barely hidden when the grey gear straps fall back into place.

"I'll clean you up when you get back," you say, winking at him as he rushes to leave.

"Promise?" Luke turns around more than halfway out the door with a smile on his face, never satiated.

"Promise!" you shout back as he's heading down the hall to the hangar bay. You mean it.

#luke 💛#luke skywalker smut #luke skywalker x reader #becca's bs

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butter-cream33 · 7 months

Text

"Yeah... I hope so."

PAIRING: Sam Winchester x Reader x Dean Winchester

SUMMARY: You're caught when hunting a vampire nest with Sam and Dean, but... They get there too late. You were hopeful... until you saw the reaper sitting in the back seat.

WORD & CHAR COUNT: 3,293 - 13,774

PAIRING: Sam Winchester x Reader x Dean Winchester

TAGS: Blood / Death / Wounds

AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's been a while since I've uploaded! I hope you guys cry when reading this(but in a good way ,yk?).

I could barely keep my eyes open. Everything was sore, and I was cold…

We’d been hunting this vampire nest for two weeks. We thought we had it under control, that it was just a tiny, well-hidden nest that we could empty in one swoop. However, we couldn’t have been more wrong. Despite these vampires all looking young, they were very, very old. They were experienced, they were skilled, and they were smart. By the time I realized what we were really dealing with, it was too late.

I had picked up my phone to call Sam and Dean, but just as they answered the phone, a rag was shoved against my mouth. It wasn’t long at all before I found myself losing consciousness.

I’d been tied up in their nest for hours, my wrists bound together and keeping me suspended by a hook mounted on a beam.

By now, my hands were numb. My feet were a few inches off of the ground, just enough to make me feel like this rope was going to rip my hands off. I had cuts and bites all over my body. Some of these wounds, they didn’t even use… They just hurt me for fun. They’d watch my blood drip on the floor only to laugh in my face. It took hours for me to finally get myself to stop crying. I didn’t want to give them a reaction anymore, despite how hard it was. It was so hard.

I was stuck there for ages. I couldn’t tell how long, I just knew it was long enough for it to get dark, then light again… A whole night in this disgusting basement.

Thankfully, they got… bored of me.

They left the basement, now hanging out upstairs. I could hear them talking, but I wasn’t able to make out the words. All I could do was wait.

But what was I waiting for?

For Sam and Dean to bust in?

Those vampires to come back?

To bleed out?

I was wasting my time with the hopeful wish that they’d save me. I knew what was happening. My hands and feet had gone numb, my skin was white, and I felt cold. I felt so, so cold. My mouth was so dry and my lips were chapped and bleeding. They had almost bled me dry. All I could do now was stare at the bloody, dirty floor.

I finally raised my head as I heard a loud crash upstairs. It was followed by shouting, a few gunshots, and more crashes.

My eyes drooped, shutting for a few seconds. It was getting harder to keep them open. Although, my hope rose alongside the volume of the fighting upstairs. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so hopeless about the possibility of Sam and Dean not showing up. They were here. We were going to be okay.

“...S-Sam…!” I called out, but it was barely audible. My voice was raspy, nothing more than a coarse whisper.

“Sam! D-De–” I burst into a coughing fit, splattering more blood on the floor. “Dean!”

I could feel the tears start running down my face. The relief of their arrival washed over me, my chest aching as I sobbed their names.

“Y/N!”

I heard them calling from upstairs. It wasn’t much longer— I saw the door to the basement come flying down the stairs. They knocked it clean off of its hinges. Their boots made loud thuds against the wooden boards of the stairs, the two of them nearly toppling over each other to get down.

“Y/N!” Sam shouted as he got to me first.

I let out a heavy sigh of relief as his large hands cupped my face by my jaw, my head resting in his palms. I couldn’t stop myself from sobbing, giving him a weak smile through my tears. He pulled my eyelid up, checking me. I knew he was just checking to see if I was turning— but I just wanted to leave as soon as possible. Dean raised his knife, cutting the rope on my wrists. I dropped, but Sam quickly caught me.

“The hell are we waiting for? Let’s fucking go–” Dean barked the order, gesturing for us to get out. “–She needs a damn hospital.”

Both of their faces twisted with worry as I groaned in pain, my hands cramping as the blood was able to flow through them again.

After seeing this, Sam didn’t waste another second. He scooped me up, holding me against his body with my legs on his hips and my arms over his shoulders. He didn’t care how much blood got him— Not that I had much left, anyway. One of his hands supported me, the other firmly holding the back of my head as my chin rested on his shoulder. As the three of us left the house, I watched over his shoulder, seeing a dozen dead vampires all over the floor. I simply closed my eyes, gritting my teeth.

The two rushed me to the Impala, Sam still clutching me as he got in the car. Dean didn’t wait one second more, revving the engine as he sped out of the driveway.

“Y/N?” Sam croaked, “Hey-hey-hey—” He sheepishly repeated the word as he looked at my face, gently patting the side of my face. “Stay with us– Okay? Keep your eyes open. Dean!” He shouted at Dean, the worry in his voice becoming one of rage. Rather than snapping back at Sam for shouting, the engine roared as Dean gassed it. The Impala raced down the road as fast as it could go. It was hard to hear the two of them talking over the engine with the way my head was spinning.

“Sam…?” I took a breath.

“Give her some water.” Dean shoved a water bottle against Sam, not taking his eyes off of the road.

“Tilt your head back, okay?” Sam spoke softly to me. Even then, I could still hear the pain in his voice. He was afraid, his eyes glistening as tears welled in his eyes. “Drink this.” Sam carefully held the water bottle to my lips, slowly tilting it so as not to give me too much at one time. I eagerly drank it, raising my blood-soaked hand to hold the bottle. He shook his head as I did.

“Don’t worry about that– I’ve got you.”

Once he pulled the bottle away, I took a deep breath. “I’m—” I gritted my teeth, “–I’m sorry… I was going to call–”

“Don’t worry about that.” Dean shook his head as he drove.

“I was— was going to call you.” I cried, “I f-found out where they w-were– I– I was going to call you, but they f-found me… I’m sorry.”

“I said don’t worry about that, you understand me?” Dean raised his voice. “We’re getting you to the hospital. They’re gonna fix you.”

I drew in a shaky breath, but it turned into a coughing fit. I could only watch as my blood hit Sam’s face. He didn’t even flinch, he just carefully pushed my hair out of my face, still choking back tears. I knew what was happening. I was never going to make it to the hospital— Not with that reaper sitting in the back seat, her eyes on me with a sorrowful expression.

“…Pull over.”

The silence that came was… tense. I could cut through glass with it. Both of them stared at me in shock, but I could see it in their eyes. They knew. They could tell. With how many times they watched someone die, this was nothing new.

The Impala slowed down a bit as Dean glared at me. He followed my gaze, seeing that I was looking in the back of the car.

He’d had his own experience with reapers, or at least enough to know there was one waiting for me.

“You leave her the hell alone!” He screamed, hopelessly swinging his gun into the backseat and firing off useless shots.

“Dean!” Sam shouted at him, pulling me tighter against him as he watched Dean snap.

Dean’s gun clicked as he ended up emptying the clip. He threw it into the floor of the car, turning to face the wheel again. He was gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles were white, revving the engine again as he swerved around a corner. Of course, the Reaper hadn’t moved an inch. She was still sitting there, the bullets had gone through her like mist.

“Dean… Please p-pull over.” I sucked air through my teeth, fighting to keep my eyes open.

“We’re getting you to the hospital, that’s it.” He argued, not wanting to stop the car. My pleas for him to pull over went in one ear and out the other. Meanwhile, Sam just did his best to comfort me, desperately finding anything he could to stop the bleeding. Napkins from the glove box, gauze from the first aid kit, and t-shirts from his bag. Although… none of it was enough. By now, Sam’s large hands were stained red with my blood. The seat was soaked and sticky, along with his clothes.

“De… Dean, I–” Sam’s voice cracked as he tried not to cry, staring down at me, “I can’t… It won’t–”

He rambled through broken whispers, trying to form sentences. It was hard to even make out his words anymore as my head was spinning.

I slowly looked at the reaper again. This time, she was leaning forward, her hands gently holding the backside of the front seat.

“…Are you staying? Or are you coming with me?” Her voice was sad. She didn’t sound like she wanted to take me with her, but it was her job. She had to. “I’m sure you’ve dealt with enough ghosts to know what happens if you stay, but… it’s your choice. I’ll understand.”

I gasped as I tried not to burst into tears– not that I had the energy to do it anyway.

“I…” I croaked, “Do I have time to say goodbye?’

The reaper slowly nodded, “Yes, but… Only goodbye.”

I nodded as I took in what she was saying. There was no way I was getting out of this. As I looked away from her, I could see Sam looking down at me with wide eyes, glaring like a deer in headlights. Dean was doing the same, the car slowing down. Even though they couldn’t hear or see the reaper, all they had to do was hear what I said to realize that it was time for me to go.

The Impala slowly pulled to a stop on the side of the road as we parked.

“S-Sam?”

Sam sniffled, pushing his hair out of his face as he tried to hold his composure together, “Yeah? What is it?” His voice cracked as he spoke. His face was soaked, shiny from the tears that ran down and dripped onto his clothes.

“Can… Can we sit on the hood? I don’t want the last thing I see to be the ceiling of the car.” I gave a weak laugh which came out as more of a wheeze.

Both of them nodded, agreeing as they hurried out of the car. Dean got out first, coming around to open the door while Sam did his best to pick me up without hurting me anymore. He carefully climbed out of the car, cradling me as he steadied himself in the tall grass beside the road. Sam then took slow steps to the hood of the car, gently laying me in the middle of it, his jacket hanging around me like a blanket. The two of them just stood beside the car, staring at me beside one another, mournful looks on their faces.

“Hey, D-Dean?”

He didn’t say anything, but he raised his chin a bit as I spoke to him.

“Can you put our song on the r-radio?”

Sam sputtered as he choked up a smile, looking off to the side as he put his bloody hand over his mouth. Dean kept up his usual stoic expression, trying to detach himself as he nodded his head and got back in the car.

“S-Sam— Come on…”

“…What?” He looked a bit confused, struggling to think straight.

I patted the hood of the car, leaving a red handprint on the black paint. His lip trembled as he tried to keep his smile, taking a reluctant step to the car. He carefully climbed onto the hood of the car with me, lying next to me. The car rocked a bit, tilting with his weight. His hand then planted on my leg, making sure I didn’t slide at all. I gave a weary smile and placed my hand over his. Sam could hardly look at me, just looking up at the sky as we interlocked our fingers.

It wasn’t long before the radio kicked on, “Simple Man” by Lynyrd Skynyrd playing. While Sam, Dean, and I all had very different tastes in music, we all had one song we liked— and this was it. We’d all sing along in the car, laughing as we couldn’t hit notes and lacked any sense of melody, just three idiots screaming lyrics in a car with smiles on our faces.

Dean got out of the car, closing the door as he then climbed onto the hood with us. I reached my other hand over, holding his hand as well.

We all just laid there, Sam on my right, Dean on my left, and nothing but the stars to keep us company. Given that we were out in the countryside, there was hardly any light pollution. We could see the moon and stars for miles and miles… I took it in for a moment, closing my eyes and letting out a deep breath. As I did, I felt both of them flinch. Without opening my eyes, I just smiled and croaked again,

“Not— Not dead yet.”

I could feel the relief from them as their grip on my hands tightened.

“D-Dean?”

“Yeah?” He spoke quietly, not moving.

“Stop… Stop being a statue for five minutes, g-got it? Y-You’re making your brother look like a b-baby.”

We all gave a soft chuckle as I spoke, Dean finally cracking.

“I just—” He sucked air through his teeth, “We don’t want you to go.”

“I know.” I choked on my words. By now, I knew the reaper was pushing it for me. This was taking more time than just a goodbye.

“Can I tell you something?” The words grated out of Sam’s throat.

“Yeah, what?” I turned to look at him.

“I… I love you.”

We all laid there in silence for a moment, taking in what Sam said. A few seconds went by before Dean slowly pulled his hand away from mine, seeming he wanted to distance himself afterward.

“I wasn’t sure for a while, I… I thought I was just being stupid, but… I’m sure now, and I wish I knew before this happened.”

I gave Sam a tearful smile, squeezing his hand tightly. “I… I love you too, Sam.”

We both gave weary laughs, Sam rolling on his side to face me. He leaned over me, gently placing his hand on my cheek. I looked at him through droopy eyes, eventually closing them as he leaned in and kissed me. It was short… but sweet. I was happy that he’d decided to actually tell me, rather than leaving me wondering.

Although, I didn’t want to leave Dean alone like that.

“Dean?” I looked over at him. He was just staring at the sky, his hands balled into tight fists over his stomach. “What’s wrong?”

“It doesn’t matter now.” He shook his head with a weary smirk, “No point.”

“It does matter, Dean.” I reached over, placing my hand over the top of his fist. He still wouldn’t look at me. “Now is absolutely the time, I mean… There won’t be a later.”

Dean closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath as he finally coughed up the words. “Sammy beat me to it.”

It took me a second, but I eventually pieced together what he meant. Sam had just confessed to me, but Dean… He did too. They were both in love with me. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I didn’t have the time to think about it, so… I might as well go out with a bang.

“I… Dean, look at me.”

Dean begrudgingly opened his eyes, looking over at me. His eyes were glazed over with tears, one finally rolling down his cheek. It was getting harder for him to hold it in.

“I love you, too.” I squeezed his hand a bit.

He looked a bit confused, but… He slowly took the same action as Sam, partially rolling on his side.

“But… You just said—”

“I know.”

“Then wh–”

“F… Fuck being normal, right?” I coughed as I laughed, “If I’m— If I’m going out, I–I’m going happy.”

I expected them to bicker, get angry, maybe cry, but… They didn’t. Sam squeezed my hand, Dean interlocking fingers with my other hand once again. He followed Sam’s steps, leaning in as he kissed me. I was happy that they didn’t question it, seeming to understand what I meant about not being normal. For all the years we’d been hunting together, I was stuck in the middle. I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to pursue Sam, or whether I wanted to go for Dean… I felt selfish to want both of them like this, but right now, I felt like I had the right to be a little bit selfish.

As Dean pulled away, he put his forehead to mine, taking a sharp breath. His hand was shaking.

We all slowly laid back down, just looking up at the sky, hand in hand, smiles and blood on our faces, and tears running down our cheeks.

“S-Sam, you get my necklace, okay?”

“Are you sure…?”

“Yeah… I’m sure.” I nodded, sighing. “And— And Dean, you get my b-bracelet.”

“Y-You both have to promise me something.” I knew I was running out of time. The reaper was out of the car now. She was standing beside the car, her hands across as she looked at me. I took in a deep breath, “No deals. No crossroads demons, no witchcraft, no summoning… None of it. Okay…?”

I thought my hands were going to break as they both squeezed them, taking sharp breaths of their own.

“I promise.” Sam’s voice shattered as he gasped, putting his other hand over his mouth again.

“Promise.” Dean tightened his fist, pressing it against the car.

We all took in a deep breath, our hands shaking. I closed my eyes, a weak smile on my face. By now, I couldn’t hold out any longer. I wasn’t even sure I had legs at this point, they were cold and I couldn’t move them anymore.

When I opened my eyes again, I wasn’t lying on the hood of the car. I was standing in front of it, looking at myself. The reaper had her hand on my shoulder, gently squeezing it.

“I… So…” I didn’t know what to say. “I’m ready to go.”

The reaper gave me a mournful smile, “I’m glad you chose to come with me. I don’t think they could bear seeing you as a spirit.”

“Yeah… I just– Are they going to be okay?” I looked at her.

She sighed, “…No. They won’t be, but they’ll manage. They always do, huh?”

I glanced back at them. By now they were sitting up, looking down at my lifeless body, still clutching my hands as they did their best not to break down.

“Yeah… I hope so.”

Do NOT copy/paste this work anywhere. I wrote this, it is my own work. If you want to reblog it, that's perfectly fine.

Thanks for reading! <3

#Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #fanfic #fanfiction #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader x dean winchester #sam x you x dean #sam x reader x dean #sam x y/n x dean #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction

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hopelesslygaysstuff · 5 months

Note

hi char! i saw that your requests were open and im actually OBSESSED with Seeing Double. could i please request a continuation of that? it could just be a short blurb🤗

I can manage a short blurb!! It was definitely fun to write, but idk if I could write another full fic with this pairing again. Anyways, enjoy!

Seeing Double

---

“Good morning.”

It was a simple phrase, but Wanda’s eyes flew open at the sound of it. An arm rested solidly against her waist, fingers splayed out on her lower stomach as a warm body pressed against her.

The scent of vanilla permeated the air, and Wanda caught a glimpse of reddish-brown hair in her peripheral vision. Turning slightly, she stilled when she felt a nose burying itself in her neck.

“I…” The words got stuck in her throat, the events of the night before rushing back into her memory. “It wasn’t a dream?”

Scarlet snorted into her skin, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. She kissed Wanda’s neck softly before murmuring, “If it was, it's the best dream I’ve ever had. I hope it never stops.”

The blush that spread across Wanda’s cheeks was absolutely adorable, and she sighed contentedly as she let herself relax in the other woman’s hold. She felt herself drifting away, back to sleep, her consciousness feeling hazy as a hand slowly made its way towards her thighs.

A soft moan escaped her, and Wanda’s clarity returned as Scarlet’s fingers gently stroked the growing wet patch in her underwear. She twisted in the woman’s hold until she was laying on her back, one arm gripping Scarlet’s wrist as she searched the eyes with that familiar shade of green on her counterpart’s face.

“What are you doing?” Wanda’s voice was breathless, the fingers applying a delicious pressure against her twitching clit.

Scarlet chuckled, “I’m making you feel good,” Her face morphed into one of faux confusion. “Aren’t I making you feel good?”

Short bursts of air hit Scarlet’s face as Wanda panted. Her hips writhed against the mattress, simultaneously pressing themselves against those talented fingers and shying away from the stimulation. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed as she gazed up at Scarlet and helplessly nodded.

Her fingers continued to grip the other woman’s wrist, holding it in place as she rolled her hips against the fingers stoking up her slit. Wanda’s underwear was soaked through, and she briefly thought about cleaning her sheets afterwards, before Scarlet’s fingers circling around her clit nearly made her lose her fragile composure.

“Fuck… please, I need…” Wanda whined, her words mumbled and slightly incoherent.

“I know,” Scarlet murmured against Wanda’s ear, moving her fingers slightly faster and causing the redhead to gasp. “I’ve got you, darling.”

The grip on her wrist increased even more, Wanda’s muscles tensing as she prepared for her orgasm to wash over her. Scarlet felt more of her arousal leak out, her fingers collecting it as she pushed Wanda’s panties to the side and slipped her fingers inside her.

Wanda’s pussy welcomed her eagerly, a low moan tearing from the woman’s throat as Scarlet curled her fingers deep inside her. She didn’t have any time to prepare for the powerful orgasm that ripped through her, the fire of her pleasure stroked to an inferno by Scarlet’s fingers.

Gasping into the crook of Scarlet's neck, Wanda bit down slightly as the last few drops of pleasure were coaxed out of her. Scarlet groaned, and Wanda pulled back to admire the dark hickeys she’d accidentally left.

“I- wow,” Was all Wanda could manage, and Scarlet grinned at her.

Taking a moment to admire her counterpart, Wanda let her eyes trail over the woman’s face. She took note of her slight dimples, her sparkling eyes, slightly flushed cheeks, and the way her eyebrows raised when the silence stretched on.

“So, you’ll stay?” Wanda asked, trying to keep the brimming hope within her contained.

Scarlet laughed, pulling her into a tight hug. “Of course, you won’t be able to get rid of me for a long time.” She promised, feeling Wanda relax into her hold. The redhead mumbled something, but by the time Scarlet had pulled away enough to see her face, Wanda was already half asleep again.

Smiling, Scarlet let her own eyes close as she held Wanda close. No, she wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.

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scribbleseas · 9 months

Text

an indignant pawn story: the door

Description: Taking place hours after the events of The Indignant Pawn, Ciel Phantomhive anxiously awaits an update from the room in front of him.

Warnings: extreme grief, violence, mentions of blood, crying, regrets, laughing at really inappropriate times, just really really sad, angst & no comfort.

Author’s Note: Hi, Everyone!

For those of you who might be seeing my work for the first time, this is a spinoff short from my first complete fan fiction: The Indignant Pawn! I suggest checking it out if you are interested in a hitwoman/runaway royalty!reader x Ciel Phantomhive, a lot of deception, fierce enemies to lovers, and a couple that will fight the world for each other. If that sounds cool to you, I highly suggest heading over to the masterlist linked below before you read this.

Anyway, I hope you like this! Even though it’s a little depressing, lol. In all fairness, an explanation was asked of me. I work for ya’ll.

Happy Reading!

Stay Alive,

Dan

THE INDIGNANT PAWN MASTERLIST

MAY 13TH, 1895

SCHLESWIG-HOLSTEIN, GERMANY

For the first time in eight years, tears ran down Ciel Phantomhive’s cheeks. His throat was raw. His nose was running. A tumultuous combination of rage and grief tore at his heart as it beat in his chest. It worked overtime. His lungs worked overtime as his breaths came in ragged inhales, forcing air in, forcing air out. A forming headache throbbed in his temples.

Crying changes nothing, he reminded himself. Crying wouldn’t repair the damage in Y/n’s chest. Crying wouldn’t have stopped the bullet that was meant for him— it was meant for him. There was no denying it.

And that’s what made his guilt gnaw at him. He should have been bleeding. Dying. It was his adversary, his bullet, and his inaction that allowed Y/n to get shot.

“My Lord,” Sebastian started, only for Ciel to silence him with a glance before fixating his stare on the door. Don’t you dare speak to me, you traitor.

“At the very least, you should change, sir,” Sebastian was the only one to speak in the waiting room. Everyone else sat in silence, save for Lizzie’s sniffling. The room smelled of antiseptic and it was cold, but nobody complained. Nobody moved.

Ciel ignored the suggestion. He stared ahead at the door separating him from the operating room. From Y/n. If he could trade his place for hers, he would. It should have been him. It should have been. What was Y/n thinking?

She wasn’t thinking. She was selfless, protecting him on instinct.

She was selfless….And the world was cruel.

She didn’t deserve this.

He did. He should have protected her on instinct— but his weren’t nearly as swift as hers. It hurt to admit, but there was no other explanation.

“Ciel, he’s right,” Lizzie tried. “Your clothes are…” she said weekly, unsure of how to remind Ciel that he was covered in Y/n’s blood; and that his wedding suit was soiled with the bride’s blood. There was even a red tint on his hands, the sick smell of iron on them, no matter how Lizzie tried to clean them off for him. He didn’t care about his hands or his clothing.

Y/n was likely dying. How could he think to change when he could lose her?

After she lost consciousness, the medic arrived and did all he could to stabilize her before there was no choice but to transfer her to the nearest hospital for emergency surgery. As the medical field expanded (especially in Germany), surgeons liked to make teaching lectures out of every surgery. However given the high-profile victim and near-impossible condition Marie was in, the hospital ensured her procedure was private.

To them, it would be Princess Marie of Schleswig-Holstein dying. Only the real Marie had already been dead for months before then!

The irony made the corner of his mouth twitch, and a heartbroken cackle threatened to rip out of his sore throat before Lizzie said his name again, sobering him

“…Ciel?”

“Elizabeth. Honestly,” Ciel warned flatly. The oak door separating the waiting room from the sterile operating room was beginning to antagonize him. By now, Ciel committed most of its knots, age lines, indents— even the tarnish on the brass knob. He detested that door. He wanted to kick it off its hinges…almost as much as he wanted to kick his demon’s head off his shoulders. Stomp on the severed head. That. Deceitful. Bastard.

He needed to punish that wretch for utterly disobeying his order. They had a bloody contract for a bloody reason, did they not?

“I’m sorry, Ciel,” Lizzie took a sharp inhale, chastened. She pursed her lips and released them. Her wary eyes lingered on him for a beat longer, concerned for him. She watched him strike Sebastian so hard that his knuckles started bleeding. And then, Ciel spent half the carriage ride laughing hysterically at her side. He’d laughed until his sides hurt and his cheeks pinched. He was laughing at the situational irony while his tears grieved its fallout. After all, Y/n only came into his life because she was tasked with killing him! And she was on a surgery table because she wanted to save his life!

Not to mention, she was sure Mariana would sabotage them. She was convinced. Ciel had reassured her in vain.

Herr intuition was perfect. Diego even warned them. They should have called off the wedding. The princess should never have to save the Earl— it was an affront to those childish tales she loved so much. It was a torture to be saved. It hurt less to be the martyr because they aren’t responsible for toiling in the changed world without them.

Ciel looked back to the door. Nothing lasts forever.

Someone you love is someone you can lose, Ciel recalled.“Someone I love could be someone I lost…” he mumbled in extension of the thought, tensing when he realized he spoke the latter aloud.

“I know, Ciel, but you should have something to eat, at least. Or have some water, or tea. You’ve been standing there for hours. Sit,” Ciel’s cousin reminded him, but he didn’t dignify it with a response. He couldn’t sit and eat. He wouldn’t.

“My Lord, I have an update…” the lead surgeon shouldered through the operating room’s door and into the waiting room. His face was marred with exhaustion, having performed a surgery so late into the night and without a break.

Ciel held his breath.

Please be alive, Y/n. I need you.

#the indignant pawn #the door #ciel phantomhive x reader #ciel phantomhive x you #ciel phamtonhive #ciel phantomhive x y/n #ciel #ciel x you #our ciel #ciel x y/n #black butler ciel #ciel x reader #ciel phantomhive #our!ciel x you #look it’s short but mighty

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cookeybg · 2 months

Text

Gotham Possesses

A cryptid Batfamily AU in which Gotham is the main character and follows its journey to consciousness as it follows its Bat and Birds. Chapters are short and a bit gloomy.

Main Characters: Gotham, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd (more characters pop up later, will add them then.)

No romantic relationships

Stuff to know: Cryptid Batfamily, grim, Melancholic mood (let me know if I should add more tags)

Word Count: 557

[Here's my table of contents]

Chapter 5 - Gotham Slept

Her Bat had always kept his secrets close. He had always prided the perceived control he had over himself. He always planned. He always prepared. Eventually his mission drove a wedge between him and her bird. Her bird was fed up, she could feel his frustration, his captivity and so she let her bird fly outside of her loving embrace. Her tendrils had extended farther than the city limits. Learning from the land, observing, absorbing, twinning and reaching until she touched another city. Bludhaven, it was called. Silently it slept, dormant. She led her bird there, close enough to keep the tether taut but lose enough to feel free. Unsure if the city would ever wake. Unsure if she was the only one aware. Relieved that her bird was within her grasp. Time ticked by and her Bat met a boy, small, with cracks but he made her Bat laugh. He brought him to the Manor and she watched curiously. He knew her differently than they, intimately. He had crawled within her muck and clawed and fought his way up just to be able to breathe, to eat. He had only known warmth in brief lucid windows and knew of the pain brought by meaty fists. He had been witness to the horrors brought on by need and even participated in a few. He was a survivor of a different kind. The boy would learn to fly, she knew. Some things are certain and her connection to her Bat, the tether, compelled. Her shadows embraced him. The boy donned the colors of her bird, of Robin, and her Bat’s loneliness was assuage. The new bird was not as graceful nor did he ride the skies as if he belonged, but he made up for it by being quick and clever of her streets. She watched them dance, aware of not being the only one, but too focused to care. She wove around him, caressing his hair, unable to do much else for him but lighten the burden of protection from her Bat. She made it harder for the villains, to see, to hear. Everything else was a learned skill, taught by her Bat. The day she felt her Bat’s pain, it was all consuming. In a wooden casket lay a shattered bird, the cracks finally given way. Cold, stiff and without warmth he was placed within her soil. The Bat blamed himself, claimed that he should have been better, should have done things differently. Her Bat blamed her, claimed that she took and took and took. She cried relentlessly, screamed and lit the skies. He was wrong. Wrong. Wrong. She would give back. She always did. Lightning struck her soil, tearing a spark of shadow from her. It did not work. She had given her shadow to the other bird once before and she would do it again. She struck again and again until a connection was formed. A rope to bind him to her. She called the vermin that slunk in her sewers and they dug. The bird took a breath, nearly drowning himself, but he had clawed his way up before and so he did again. The bird came out wrong. Twisted and confused. The bird was stolen, taken from his nest. She was too weak to hold onto him and in her exhaustion, Gotham slept.

Let me know what you guys think! I wrote this instead of working on my other fic. I just can't seem to get that chapter right.....

#gotham #gotham city #fanfic #fanfiction #cryptid batman #cryptid batfam #robin #nightwing #dick grayson #briefly mentioned #bruce wayne #jason todd #the second robin #grim #angsty #angst #obviously jason dies #the one who takes him is Talia al Ghul

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pendarling · 11 months

Text

Love At First Bite

Vampire x Vampire Slayer

A clutter of items falling on the ground stirred the Vampire Slayer awake from their sleep. It had been another long hard day at work, and one thing they couldn’t afford to lose was sleep.

Their mind caught up to the sound they heard, and with just barely half a consciousness, lifted their heavy eyelids to the shadow across the room. It picked up the glass from the carpeted floor and placed it back onto the table.

A vampire. Their heart beat rapidly as the slayer quickly jolted from their bed, and nearly hit their head on the board behind them.

They yelped with surprise and widen their eyes.

“Relax, relax!” The moonlight unveiled itself from the dark clouds outside and illuminated into the room. It was their partner. Their eyes were gleaming a sharp velvet red with such an intensity that made it hard to look away.

The slayer calmed after realizing that it was only their spouse. A vampire, of course, but still the love of their life even if it meant they had been bitten. Because there was something different about this vampire. It was on their side, and knew right from wrong.

Vampire Slayer understood their lover more than anyone else, they knew since the day they turned into a vampire they would do anything to further their progress to protect innocents. It was the reason why they were able to send them to the outskirts of the countryside to scout out for any information on the legion of vampires that had been attacking nearby villages.

If anything, Vampire was the reason why that their town continued to prevail.

The slayer squinted their eyes up at the nearby clock hung up on the wall, but were unable to tell the time from the dark. Whatever time it was though, Slayer knew it was far too late into the early hours to be having a reunion.

“What are you doing here?” They asked, still trying to slow the rapid pace in their heart and their growing suspicions.

Vampire laughed softly and lurked closer; their eyes bearing a lustful gaze at their body as they laid limply on the bed. Slayer thought they caught a glimpse of sinister intention, but that would be impossible. If anything were to happen, their partner would only ever feed on the blood of others and not them. Others meaning the type of humans that were evil enough and deserved what was coming to them, in that sense it didn’t create any feeling of empathy, and in all honesty, they got what they deserved.

Vampire shrugged, their boots softly thumping against the wooden floorboards, “I was in the neighbourhood and I just thought I should drop by to say hello.” Their hands settled onto Slayer’s shoulders, neatly pushing them back down.

“At this time?” They blinked with confusion.

They chuckled quietly, hardly able to contain the entertainment. “What? You wanted me to meet you at day time? When the sun is up so I could burn?”

Slayer sheepishly looked away. How could they forget something so obvious? At least they knew with certainty that there was no hidden agenda behind Vampire’s arrival. Their question was a result of their lack of comprehension skills at an hour when they were supposed to be asleep.

That’s right.

They were tired.

Of course they wouldn’t be able to think straight.

The bed creaked in response to the weight of Vampire climbing on top of them. They helped lower Slayer back onto their pillow; a wave of sleepiness blanketed over them.

“Welcome home then.” They mumbled; nearly half awake as they battled against the realm of sleep and the reality.

Vampire leaned in close, their lips meeting as they gave a soft kiss. It trailed to their cheek, and helped lull them. “Thank you, my love.” They whispered calmly into their ear. “I have a question though.” They leaned away from them again. Their thumb slightly rubbed their jaw as they hovered above them, “I’ve been working hard, and I thought… maybe I should deserve a reward?”

They couldn’t fully register what was being said at that time. Slayer was too tired to give the information a proper answer, it would be fair to say that they were at a disadvantage in their hazy dream state.

Vampire knew that.

Yet, in that moment of vulnerability they had found an opportunity they’ve been craving for months since becoming a vampire. A taste of the sweetest thing they could get a hold of.

With little hesitation, Slayer nodded mindlessly, their eyes already dazed and lost in a world of slumber.

A smile grew on their face, “Thank you.” Vampire kissed them again, ecstatic for the chance. Their fingers trailed down their neck; looking for the perfect spot to deliver their first bite.

They landed on a crook between their neck and right above their collar bone. With a salivating mouth, their tongue licked smoothly onto the spot, the sensation sent a shiver through Slayer, but other than that, left them resting easy.

A long sigh escaped their lips, and after a minute of soothing Slayer, they firmly bound their arms around them to keep them from moving.

It would hurt, but that didn’t mean they should risk Slayer moving too much. It would only make things worse. Which is why, for Slayer, it would be quick.

After everything, from the moment they’d been cursed to live a life of cruel immorality, Vampire had their eyes set on Slayer. It had been an uncontrollable promise to keep away from them at all times. If their partner had known how bad it had been to want the blood of a pure person with good intentions, then perhaps they would’ve let them have it much sooner.

Finally, Vampire placed one last light kiss; their fangs sharpened and increased in size. With enough force, they dug straight into Slayer’s neck, their partner tensed with a silent scream of pain. It pulled them back into the waking world.

They gasped, their hands clasping around the sheets as they continued to struggle, “Ah— Vampire— stop…” Slayer tried pushing Vampire off, now fully aware of their situation. A flash of pain coursed through their nerves, and rushed to activate their adrenaline. Their feet kicked; jostling the bed in its entirety. Beneath Vampire, Slayer looked for a way out, but under their spouse was a terrifying resilience like no other. With every suction of blood, Vampire remained inhumanly stronger opposed to them. It was one of the most critical features of vampires, their extraordinary strength, and agility allowed them to go beyond the limits.

It was what made them monsters in the first place.

It was less than a minute, but it felt like hours until they were freed, and some odd reason, Slayer missed the heavy desire that Vampire portrayed just then. They’d never once in their life expected Vampire to take such a drastic turn to get to them. It made them wonder how many countless nights they’ve went on while thinking about the taste of their blood. How it could’ve made their mouth water.

“Shhh… shhh… there, see?” They licked the blood that tricked down to the pillow.

“Vampire…” They didn’t know what to say, partly because they were in shock.

They sucked carefully on the wound until it stopped bleeding as much. What remained were two small holes that could easily pass as mosquito bites.

Slayer shuffled, they were most definitely not awake by now. It must’ve been a twisted dream or a deep ambition they never fully explored enough to realize it’s dangers unless it played out in their head. Still, that didn’t provide a good excuse as to why they now felt a tingling attraction build up from within their guts.

Would they become a vampire? They couldn’t feel it’s effects.

The sudden loss of blood forced Slayer to remain weak and unable to complain properly, their eyes held a look of defeat with every short breath they released. Vampire on the other hand, held a look of pure euphoria.

“Why?” They stayed lying limp on the mattress.

Vampire licked their lips. “C’mon baby, you gave me permission.”

“I didn’t.” They blushed deeply recalling the moment seconds ago. Their eyes stayed lingering onto Vampire’s sharp fangs. They were so boldly printed in their blood.

Seeing their sights, Vampire tossed them a curvy grin. “Wanna go for a round two?” They came in closer again, and this time without a chance to respond, Vampire committed to their goal and aimed on the opposite side of their neck. Their kiss planted on the perfect spot before wasting no more time and pushing their fangs in deeper. The slayer squeezed their eyes shut; biting down a scream they’d never let out for fear of alerting neighbours.

Instead, their eyes welled up with hot tears, the bite softened, but it didn’t stop their vision from going darker by the second.

Slayer tipped their head away to allow more room for Vampire. If they were going to take them now, they might as well get it properly. Their tired hand sifted Vampire’s hair, and figured an acceptance of defeat to them this time. They’d have their way tonight, but only because they let them.

~~~

MASTERLIST

#writing #creative writing #vampire x hunter #this is the best story I’ve ever written #vampire x human #vampire x slayer #slayerxvampire #human vampire

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luciadiosa · 1 year

Text

"I did it out of honor"

Pirates of the carribean - Request

for the lovely @umgatochamadopercyval

With i share my birthday today at the 27. december. Capicorns!

Happy birthday to you! I hope you have a nice birthday today with your loved once. Be healthy and may your wishes come true.

Enjoy the little short story with James Norrington.

"Y/N!" she shouted. Your beloved sister. A graceful but strong woman and the real daughter of Gavenor Swann. Elizabeth.

You always fight since you were little. The family adopted you after you los your family. Elizabeth nearly begged her father. Now you watched her with Will and interrupted a moment of peace. A kiss between those too.

"Don't worry" a voice whispered. "I take care of you. Noone will harm you and she loves you either way." You turned around. Sparrow.

"What?"

"You fear you lost her. You don't want to be alone. Aftee you lost your home, your father."

Jack took some steps. "As long Beckett has any use for him."

"Our father lives!" you insisted.

The pirate's words echo in your head. If there were a handful of decent pirates, and if Jack is one of them, then it doesn't matter. Because aboard these pirates, you're just a prisoner and you didn't think you will see Jack Sparrow again.

"Darling, without me you would still be on board. I saved you. No Navy, no Will Turner, nor your sister or that bloody Norrington. So you owe me, aye?."

You look at Jack. He was right. It was he who saved her. He pushed open the door, stood over you and freed you. So you own him at least respect and gratitude. You don't admit it but he grew into your heart. He isn't that bad. A filthy pirate yes but no villian.

And yet you are now standing between the men who conquered your heart. One quickly and with ease. You have always admired the other. But James had eyes for your sister. So she was the older one and the one who represented her family. You're just adopted.

You turn to Jack. Freedom with him was exciting and enticing. He showed you more respect in some situations than a Nobelman would. you smile at him Jack leans back slightly and opens his arms. He grinned and pulled up a corner of his mouth. With him you have someone who accepts you as you are.

"A choice has been made! A choice against true love." You turn around sharply when you hear James moan. Davy grabbed him. The captain of the dutchman is happy. He was right when he said you are a monster of the sea a daughter of Calipso and don't deserve to be loved.

The admiral's eyes meet yours. Full of sadness and disappointment that destroyed the rest of longing. "Let him go." you demand "I told you the loser knows the sea." With a shove, James falls over the rail. "No!" you cheer and Davy laughs. "We have to go. THIS is our chance! He won't survive!" Jack whispers, grabbing your sleeve.

You desperately try to break away from Jack's grip. "Y/N!" your name out of his mouth lets you see him. "Remember I rescued you. Remember all the nights of fun and rum. Of our connection." But then he understood and loosens his fingers from you.

A second full of deep understanding before you heave yourself over the railing with quick steps and jump towards the ice-cold water. The sea embraces you like a piece of motherland that calls back a prodigal daughter.

Once the transformation is complete, you could swim faster against the current and grab James by the wrist. He has already closed his eyes when he feels your hands and the pull up. Stunned by the cold and the weight of soaked clothing, he could barely move.

"I'm so sorry. Please hold on!" you call out to him as soon as he was up. Time stopped for a moment. Stopped the sea and you float. With the last of his strength, James lifts his hand and puts it on your cheek. He looks into your [your eye colour] eyes. His blue lips form your name and a smile. At least he sees you in his last hour. Before he loses consciousness, you give him a kiss on his cold lips. Trembling with anger, you clutch his clothes even more. It must not end.

Breaking waves. The constant murmur was only drowned out by the birds migrating across the blue sky.

The sun blinds you as a cough brings you back to reality.

You pull yourself up and see him. The admiral of your heart. James Norington. His actual hair already air dried. When he calmed down, your eyes meet.

His then wandered over your naked body and he realized what was happening.

Even before he asked, he took off his uniform coat and covered you with it. It was wet but served to hide you from view.

"Did I deceive you?" he begins. "Have you...are you...a mermaid?"

Silence. This silence confirms it to him. He looks at the sea and touches his forehead.

"You could have ripped me to pieces if the tales are to be believed. But you didn't." he mentions.

"James.." You lean in and adjust his head with your hand on his chin so he's looking at you. Your hand slips to his cheek.

"I don't kill anyone I have feelings for."

"Feelings?" - "Deep as the sea"

An encouraging smile from you preceded the kiss. But instead of you, James puts both hands on your cheeks and pulls your head into a kiss. In which his lips meet yours.

You kiss back passionately until you wrap your arms around his wet body and let yourself fall back onto the sand with him.

After minutes of intimacy, you now lie there, turned to each other, arm in arm. You can feel his breath through your nose on your forehead.

"I always thought you adored my sister Lizzie." you mumble

"I did it out of honor. I wasn't allowed to follow my heart either. She was a better match in the eyes of society. But when you were with her, I had to force myself not to keep my eyes on the face. Because you I wanted more" James kisses you on the forehead and you smile.

"But things have changed... Unlike her, you didn't join a pirate voluntarily."

"But me and Jack..."

"I ignore it. As much as it hurts... my love for you is stronger and I know we'll find a way."

Silently you snuggle up to his body, whose clothes are slowly drying and warming up in the sun. After all this time you could be with him. That he reciprocated your feelings made your heart leap for joy.

#james norrington #fanfiction #pirates of the carribean #pirates of the carribean: at worlds end #pirates of the caribean fanfiction #james norrington x reader #jack sparrow #cpt jack sparrow #mermaid fanfiction #request #for your birthday #happy birthday #james norrington x oc

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memobread · 1 year

Text

open ur mouth bc daddy bread's gonna spread his cheeks and pour u a nice hot cup of jon fluff while he writes the big dic fic

POV: jonathan davis comforts u after a nightmare <3

TW: MENTION OF DISTURBING DREAM OF DEATH OF FAMILY MEMBERS AND DISMEMBERMENT *they don't die irl*

"Watch them burn..."

You could vividly hear the high-pitched, sobbing painful shrieks of your mom and brother as you were tied to a wooden cross, nails hammered through each of your palms.

"Help me, Y/N!! Why won't you help me?! Do you not love me?!"

You tried to scream, but you physically couldn't.

"HELP ME!!! HELP!!!"

"You're not helping him? After all he's done for you?"

"...pathetic..."

"...why should he even die for you, anyway?"

When one of the indistinct figures below you lit the straw on fire at the base of the cross, it immediately combusted into violent flames. You could suddenly feel your legs part by themselves; wider and wider until your muscles stretched nearly to the point of snapping. You felt a weird sharp sensation when your legs went farther apart, your nerves and muscles had snapped. You were startled by a rattling of the cross. When you looked down, you saw a mutilated figure with an unhinged jaw and severed eyelids scrambling up to your snapped body. Before it could reach you, though, everything went black and you felt a sudden change in your environment feel.

The dream was so vivid and real that it took you several seconds to register what dimension you were in. You were somewhere; most likely safer than whatever hellscape you were in just a few seconds ago, although, you were afraid to open your eyes. When you gained a little more consciousness, you recognized that the comforting sensation surrounding your trembling body was a pair of firm, yet comfy arms. The comforting musk that came with the embrace was the one of your boyfriend, Jonathan. You let out a quiet sigh of relief when you realized what happened was only a dream. however, you were still shaken and close to having a panic attack. Tears pricked at your eyes and you struggled to breathe. You tried to wriggle out of Jon's embrace to get some fresh air, but he woke up, noticing his human pillow was trying to escape his cuddly grasp.

"...mmh..."

Jon whined and pulled you back in, not seeing your tears just yet. The inability to get fresh air and calm down made your sobs more audible, catching Jon's attention.

"...mmh...mnaww....baby, what's wrong...?"

Jon let you go so you could sit up and you buried your head into your knees and cried like you needed to.

"...baby....baby what's wrong?"

You could only sob into your knees, giving Jon the hint that you needed a minute or two. He gladly took it, willing to do anything to make you comfy <3. When you were ready, you crawled back up into Jon's comfy arms and nestled in his chest, wrapping your arms around his thin waist.

"What's going on, hon?" Jon asked worriedly, playing with your hair.

You told him everything; about the creature, the traumatic memories, and your family members.

"...aww, baby..."

Jon pulled you back to the bed, rolling on top of you lightly and feathering kisses all over your face and hands, his tickling mustache making you giggle through a few tears.

"...it's okay...you're here now with me...you're safe..."

And you WERE safe. Nothing was safer than Jon's arms rubbing your scalp and back, his soft lips pressing to the top of your head while he whispers sweet nothings into your hair. Returning the favor, you gave Jon several loving kisses on his sweet face, making him blush. He hugged you tighter than before and rolled on top of you, laughing as he pinned your arms to the bed. He dove down with an evil grin and started attacking you with frantic kisses, making you giggle like a little gremlin as you tried to beat him at his little game while he was on top.

"...ngh...ah! Stoooop! You're gonna make me lose my balance and fall!"

Jon rolled off you and pulled you to his chest again, giggling to himself.

"It's all gonna be okay now...I'm here...I'm here..."

#jon davis #jonathan davis #jd korn #jd #hes just a little guy #jonathan davis fluff #fred durst #90s rock #adult world #cvm #hes so beautiful #90s icons #jdevil #nu metal

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marvelmaniac715 · 11 months

Text

A short while ago I posted about my hope of Chucky’s human body being in Season Three, and it got me thinking. How would Nica react to the original Chucky now that he can tower over her? I decided to write that as a fic. I hope you guys like it, because if it doesn’t end up happening in Season Three, at least this fic exists to entertain the idea of it :).

————————————————————-

There was something deeply wrong. Nica didn’t know exactly what it was, but she could feel it deep within her bones. Some sort of forbidden knowledge made her shiver in both fear and anticipation, as she grew antsy at the multitude of terrible possibilities. There was only one person who had ever made her feel this way, but he was dead now. Wasn’t he?

Pushing down her looming dread of something horrible happening, Nica went about her day, running a few errands, grabbing a coffee and a chocolate cupcake, even buying herself a new book to cheer herself up. She had almost forgotten about her bad feeling by the time she was nearly back home, but just as she approached the elevator that led up to her apartment, she felt someone grab hold of her wheelchair.

Nica tried to pretend that her chair had gotten caught on something, but then she felt someone breathing down her neck. With a rising sense of horror, she craned her neck upwards, only to be met with a horrifyingly familiar set of blue eyes and a twisted grin. There was no reason to ask who this was. She knew, even if he looked much older, and there were bones and maggots poking out of his skin. This was Chucky. Alive. But… how?

Nica began to hyperventilate in her immense panic, and she hardly noticed when Chucky stepped out from behind her chair and rested his far too cold hands on her shoulders, squeezing very tightly. Deeply confused, Nica took a gulp of air and asked:

“Whose body did you steal this time?”

Chucky simply shook his head and smirked, infuriating Nica, who immediately continued.

“What do you mean? You can’t just shake your head and not-‘

Chucky cut her off with a laugh and responded in a patronising tone:

“I didn’t steal this body, Nica. This is me.”

It didn’t click in Nica’s brain for a second, then it suddenly made sense. This man, whilst clearly older than the pictures and home movies she’d seen of Charles Lee Ray, looked exactly like him. They had the same eyes, the same face structure, even the exact same voice. Sure, Chucky could use something similar to his voice in most bodies he possessed, but this was an exact match.

Then the terror set in. She was staring up at Charles Lee Ray, in the flesh. All of a sudden, she understood the terror people had felt when he’d slaughtered them in the eighties. Her heart ached for her poor father, because the last person he’d seen was this terrifying man looming over her. Then of course, a secondary realisation set in. One of the hands that was currently squeezing her shoulders far too tightly had paralysed her, put her in a wheelchair, all before she was even born.

These horrifying realisations had left Nica stunned, unblinking. Seemingly noticing this, Chucky smirked and leaned in so that his face was mere centimetres away from Nica’s. Cold, mocking blue eyes met frightened, almost glazed over in terror blue eyes. The sensation of his breath on her face brought Nica back to reality, and her eyes landed on the maggot that was still burrowed in his cheek. Almost self-consciously, Chucky’s confident act dropped for a moment as he took a hand off of Nica to poke at his face, asking:

“Is there still one on me? I thought I’d gotten rid of these little bastards for good.”

Losing herself in the absurdity of this situation, Nica helpfully pointed and responded as Chucky began fumbling around:

“Yeah, you’ve … got one right there. No, no, not there, look where I’m pointing. Yeah, that’s it, do you want me to grab or are you gonna-‘

Her sentence was cut off when Chucky yanked the maggot from his face and slammed it against a wall, effectively and brutally killing it. Nica’s stomach turned, and her disgust returned tenfold. As Nica cringed, Chucky backed away from her and did a little spin, spreading his arms out as he asked with a grin:

“Well, what do you think? You reckon I can still get some tail like this?”

Nica’s brain short-circuited again as her mouth began moving on autopilot. If she’d been rationally thinking things through, she would’ve stayed silent. But instead, her nose wrinkled as she scornfully scoffed:

“You’re old!”

It was a rude thing to say, but that fact did come as a genuine shock to her. Of course she’d always known at the back of her mind that she was battling against a guy who was 31 in 1988 so he’d have to be in his sixties, but what has to be understood is that hearing a voice and trying to kill a children’s toy is one thing, but being confronted with the fact that she’d tried to slaughter a senior citizen was something else altogether. Chucky looked very hurt by this, and, looking down at the floor, he muttered:

“I’m 65.”

Trying to cover up her blunder, Nica queried:

“How is that possible? The bodies you inhabit don’t normally… age. It’s not that you look bad per se, it’s just that, it’s unexpected, y’know?”

At this, Chucky looked less hurt and grinned again as he began to explain.

“Well, as you probably already know, after a certain amount of time the human body begins to decompose. By the time I gathered enough remnants of my soul in various doll vessels in order to return to my original body, there wasn’t a scrap of flesh left on my bones. I was just a skeleton, which gave me the weirdest out of body experience of my life, let me tell you. But I still went through with it, and because there wasn’t any skin or features left, the voodoo magic I used improvised and aged my body to the age of my soul, making me look, well, old as you so eloquently put.”

His last few words were said with a pointed glare in Nica’s direction. This made the woman gulp as she began heavily regretting her choice of words. She knew that Chucky was vain, and as a doll he wasn’t that hard to get rid of- a kick or a punch could send him flying. But now he was human again, and tall. If he wanted to, he could simply put the brakes on Nica’s chair down, trapping her there as he killed her. The only reason she still lived was by the grace of Chucky’s benevolence, as fleeting as it was.

Instead of confronting her word choice, she decided to change the topic, gathering some of her courage as she asked defiantly:

“Aren’t you scared of dying soon? Flesh isn’t as resilient as plastic.”

There was a bitter laugh, then…:

“Nobody lives forever, Pierce. I’ve made my peace with death by becoming an executioner of sorts. I have plenty of doll bodies roaming around, not to mention two kids who carry my bloodline and the parts of me that I’ve left in you, Kyle and Andy, meaning that part of me will never die. I didn’t possess my original body as some sort of power play, I just wanted to return to something familiar. I missed the feel of my own teeth.”

Brushing off the last part of Chucky’s confession, Nica immediately became drawn to the part about him never dying, the parts ‘left’ in her, Andy and Kyle. Was that just metaphorical or something related to voodoo? She had to know.

“What do you mean about leaving parts of yourself in me, Kyle and Andy?”

Chucky sat down on a nearby bench and inspected his fingernails, seemingly ignoring her for a good long while. Then, he glanced at her and said:

“I like to think of my influence as a weed. Your once noble and heroic brains are the gardens I’ve slowly overtaken. The part of me in Andy Barclay led him to torturing a vessel of mine’s head for an entire year. Would a purely good man do that? The part of me in Kyle Simpson made her drug teenagers for God’s sake. That’s something I’d do, hell, I once swapped paint darts for real bullets so teens would shoot each other to death. The part of me in you is a little harder to spot, but whilst sharing your brain I noticed that your perception of right and wrong was becoming slightly… crooked. I didn’t think much of it until I learnt that you tried to shoot Tiffany. Of course, I wasn’t happy to hear that the bullet hit my kid, and I’m still not entirely over it, but I suppose there was nothing to be done.”

It took a special brand of narcissism to see one’s influence as being so powerful, but given the evidence that had been presented to and by Chucky, his view of the situation made a lot of sense. But that throwaway comment about Glen didn’t seem quite right to Nica. It seemed kind of flippant, like he didn’t really care, so she pressed further.

“Wow, you’re really torn up about your kids ‘dying’, aren’t you?”

Chucky’s expression became unreadable, and his tone emotionless as he said:

“They’re together in one body again, just like when they were first born. What sort of father would I be if I wasn’t happy for them?”

After that, there was an almost amiable silence between them, interrupted every so often by someone coming up or down in the elevator. Eventually, Nica softly asked:

“Why did you come here? You don’t seem like you want to hurt me.”

Chucky replied in an unsure tone, as if he wasn’t quite sure.

“I… wanted you to see me. Yeah, I wanted you to know what I actually look like. We have quite a history, don’t we Nica?”

All Nica could do was nod as she watched Chucky raise his right hand in a little wave. She knew what was coming, but still she stayed silent as he continued.

“I think it was this hand that did it, all those years ago. To think that such a small stab could have such life altering consequences, it’s weird to think about, isn’t it?”

Again, Nica nodded, eyes brimming with rage-filled tears at the injustice of it all. Then, Chucky did something very strange. He got up from the bench, walked over to Nica, knelt down in front of her and took hold of her chin with his left hand. With his right hand, he brushed a strand of hair out of a now quivering Nica’s face as he mused aloud to himself:

“Y’know, you look quite a lot like me when I was young. You’ve seen the photos, you know what I mean. You remind me of myself too, over the last few decades. Trapped inside a body you can’t escape. Ironically, both of our predicaments were my fault. I think that’s why I like you.”

Nica didn’t even get a moment to think about what he’d said before Chucky stood up and regarded her with a cold stare. He folded his arms behind his back as another maggot poked out of the bony holes in his flesh. As he began backing away, he commanded her in a voice that was worthy of his former reputation as a terrifying serial killer - the Lakeshore Strangler.

“Now, when you get home, I want you to call your little friends, Barclay and Simpson. Tell them that I’ve got a new body, and that they’ll never guess which one. Also, please let them know that I’ll pay them both visits soon so that they get to ‘play’ with someone their own size.”

With that, he walked away, whistling under his breath as Nica processed what had just happened.

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into-september · 1 year

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"Buddy Daddies" IS better than Spy x Family, but it left me with questions

First and foremoest: who is the audience?

I'm wondering because the concept screams of either seinen or fujo, but the foucs is run-of-the-mill shounen. We're throwing our heroes into a situation where they're forced to ask prickly questions about their values and their life choices, and we've got them making the expected discoveries and the obvious choices from that, but no effort is made to dig into the real question:

Why do Kazuki and Rei choose each other?

There are two possible answers to that question: One is a life-changing backstory, and the other is gay. And the singular thing keeping "Buddy Daddies" from greatness is that it never answers.

They're partners because reasons. They're living together because something about couch-surfing idk. They met each other when they were both at rock-bottom crossroads, but did minimally to pick each other up from there. How much do they even know about each other? They certainly don't seem to be particularly invested in why the other has lost at life. As the story begins, they're hardly coming across as friends, and to what extent they end there, it's because of the way Miri influences them, separately.

As such, Miri herself is little more than a plot devices setting events in motion. Too young to be a focal consciousness in a story centred on adult questions, the story never dwells on her and the harrowing experiences she goes through with little more than laughing. She's repeatedly separated from three different parental figures and meets that with nothing but the joy of a reunion, because of course she's not the interesting figure here. That'd be the daddies.

By the end, Rei wants them to be a "real family", but why does that family include Kazuki? By all accounts, that was just some co-worker crashing at his place and who dragged in a kid who changed everything. The show never once questions whether their family will involve anyone more or less: it's Kazuki-papa and Rei-papa and Miri; no talk about any possible new mamas except for the very first and the very last scene, nothing said about why Kazuki and Rei take it for granted that the other wants to raise this child with him.

And the thing is, the thing is, the answer is RIGHT THERE. Kazuki obviously thinks he cannot have the family he wants thanks to his job, or doesn't deserve it thanks to the same; Rei has been raised into the same job, deprived of any kind of parental love and is repeatedly told to "cast off" that weakness. What stands between them and the thing they want (Miri) is their profession as hitmen, albeit from radically different angles for them both. But the show never has them question their life outside of society; only when they lose Miri over it do they truly acknowledge that raising a child is incompatible with being a professional murderer, and even then they never reflect on what their career choice says about what kind of people they are.

It's a gimmick and an easy ticket to action scenes, but it is never challenged. We don't know why Kazuki chose this path and why Rei never broke free before, and when they decide to leave it, it is with the same narrative shrug as their choosing to make a family with another guy who they by all accounts isn't involved with.

And it is frustrating because they show - particularly in its latter half - seems to be hanging on the cusp of diving into it, in connecting the threads between these two lonely men with their differently ruined lives, their different pursuits of a violent lifestyle and the way this would explain why they'd each come to step out of it because of one little girl.

Don't get me wrong - the show is cute and the finale is satisfying in nearly every way I'd expect it. It's just so close to being super memorable, rather than another action-comedy buddy show.

If you want a show where Koki Uchiyama voices a gangster princeling forced into the choice between loyalty to the clan and the sweetness promised by his found family, where the questions about choosing a life of murder are pursued to their ugly end and where twelve episodes are plenty and then some for explaining why these kids are choosing each other, then let me tell you about our lord and savior kunihiko ikuhara and the buttplug kappa magical boy anime

youtube

And that one is not afraid to say gay

#buddy daddies #blah #animation #sarazanmai #Youtube

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mindshelter · 2 years

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on writing prompts: how bout timkon (platonic or romantic or the muddy in between they're laying in) + ttk shenanigans?

(also just wanted to say i loooove your timkon fics, they're the few i reread every so often bc the characterization and the dynamic you write for them Hits. hope you're having a lovely day!)

Hands slide up Tim’s face, large thumbs stroking his cheekbones in slow swoops. Water is still beading at the tips of his hair, gravity willing it downwards. The fog is clearing, heat sinking towards tiled flooring, but the temptation to sleep blurs the edges of his consciousness.

“Don’t fall asleep here,” Kon says, clearly attempting to sound stern—but Tim can imagine Kon’s scrunched-up grin even as his eyelids flutter and fatigue reduces the world to little more than a muted smear.

“Mm,” says Tim, head tipping forward. He hasn’t been able to afford a good night’s rest for nearly two months, rationing sleep on rooftops as a teammate kept watch or in the quiet of a fusty motel room close to their target, nodding off as a computer program dug up files like scraping char off a pot. Espionage work is as gratifying as it is long and soul-destroyingly boring. Being attacked from behind with a knife was the biggest highlight of the assignment aside from finishing it and going home.

The delicate pressure begins at Kon’s fingertips, wicking the excess moisture where they touch Tim’s skin. They slide upwards, smoothing back the clumps of hair clinging to his forehead. Tim shivers when Kon reaches the nape of his neck, gliding over an island of scar tissue. The nerves there are either semi-healed or beyond repair, oversensitive at some spots, numb at others, all overlaid with leather.

Kon had his palm laid over the small of his back and a smile against his mouth, the first time Tim let himself be touched like this. His hand had continued to meander before it gathered some courage to wander upwards. Unhurried and light, giving plenty of time for Tim to pull away. Tim had waited for the familiar feeling of insects crawling over him—but a hush had fallen inside of him.

Before he knows it, Kon is taking a step backwards. The distance is still short enough that Tim’s legs still flank either side of his hips.

“Is being able to sleep anywhere and everywhere part of spooky’s training regimen?” Kon asks, giving Tim’s hair another ruffle. “Alongside ‘how to hang upside down,’ intensive endurance, strength and martial arts training? Mastering the crabby grunt?”

Tim grunts.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Kon says, dragging out the first word. “I bet Bruce made you practice sleeping upside down, with all those bats in your cave. Stick with the theme, you know. My working theory is that it’s mandatory. Only after you’ve inhaled enough bat guano fumes to lose your mind—then you’re ripe and ready to hit the streets.”

“That’s just me, Conner,” Tim mumbles. And the repeated head trauma, probably.

Tim’s body lifts off the bathroom counter—and then the counter is upside down, as is everything else in the en suite. The bend of his knees dangle off of Kon’s outstretched arm, but it’s the TTK wound around him holding Tim steady. Tim yawns, but wraps his arms around himself in the best mimicry of the actual animal he can manage just to hear Kon laugh.

The things he does for love. “I am the night,” Tim says.

Kon chortles before flipping Tim back upright—Tim lands in his arms, and he rolls his eyes as Kon elbows the light switch and unceremoniously kicks the en suite’s door open to cross the short distance needed to reach Kon’s bed. It’s on the smaller side for two grown men, but Tim can’t say that he minds.

There are a few thin, faded strips of moonlight threading past the window curtains. Kon chose an East-facing room to get the most sun in the morning. The bedsprings squeak and whine as Kon drops their combined weight onto the mattress. TTK rearranges the duvet over their bodies while hands draw Tim in by the waist; Tim wriggles to nuzzle closer.

This kiss tastes of spearmint. Tim is sure Kon is listening for his pulse; he can hear it too, loud, steady, and just as well as the soft breaths Kon releases as Tim licks into his mouth. It’s perfect, even if Tim’s exhaustion is apparent in the way their teeth clack together.

Tim can’t see Kon properly in this darkness. But he traces Kon’s jaw, his browbone—indulges, luxuriates in the softness of Kon’s hair, the rise and fall of his chest, his golden heart—

“Missed you,” Kon murmurs once they break apart. Tim uses the last dredges of his energy to leave one more kiss between Kon’s eyebrows.

It’s so warm under the covers, his limbs tangled with Kon’s. Like they made their own hearth.

He never wants this to end.

Tim’s more than terrified that it might. (It will, part of him insists. He’ll come to his senses; it’s just a question of when.) Good things rarely last, and Kon won’t ignore the rot inside of Tim forever.

In the meantime—he’s happy, pursuing the indomitable challenge of being enough, and is entirely too selfish to walk away from this.

Kon’s happy too, Tim thinks; sadness always paralyzes him. Tim becomes volatile—and so, so angry—but Kon prefers to vanish, making himself scarce and quiet if he could wish himself away.

He’s been singing, lately—off-note, but Tim never says a thing. It’s only as it started happening again that Tim had realized it used to be a regular habit of his. His laughter is loud again, booming down hallways, no longer fearful of taking up space.

It’s Kon’s turn to yawn. “What’re you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” Tim says. “You,” he amends.

thank you for the prompt, anon! i had fun with it, and hopefully it’s to your liking. i think i adhered to the ttk theme enough dsksls <3

i’m accepting fic prompts; details here!

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #dc #my writing #heavily influenced by the fact that post-resurrection tim basically lets kon get away with anything #he has infinite patience for this guy now #fic requests

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