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gloriousmonsters · 4 months

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Mememememe I want to see

please enjoy a selection from you're on a path in the desert, chapter 2: 'The Ancient', brought about by wondering what ganondorf's motivation is and being honest and brash enough he kind of likes you and is like 'sorry, kid' while murdering you to attempt a breakout in the first chapter. narrated by Zelda, starring Link and Ganondorf.

--------

You're on a path in the desert. Or... it's more of a beach, isn't it? You can hear the sea. Small crabs scuttle and hide among rocks smoothed by eons of lapping waves; the pristine sands glitter, here and there, with old coins and jewels set in tarnished metal. Pirate treasures, as if a ship was wrecked here long ago. A lonely blue sky arches high above, unmarred by a single cloud. A path of scattered white rocks, like sun-bleached bones, lead toward the edge of the water. At the end of this path, a man with evil eyes is imprisoned. A king. You, hero, must slay him; or it will be the end of the world.

Voice of the Curious: He didn't seem that bad!

- Yeah, he wasn't as bad as she hyped him up to be.

- Bad? He was very bad! I'm completely on board with the 'slaying' thing now.

- Hang on, how are we here? Didn't we die?

> I see what you mean, but he did very much kill us. That was a thing that happened.

Voice of the Curious: I guess, but he was so... sad. He just wanted to escape. He seemed like he'd been there for a really long time.

> He did.

Excuse me, who's this? And what are you saying about dying? Please don't tell me—

Voice of the Curious : We died and we came back to life!

- More or less.

- I died and it was terrifying and now I'm me and also this other part of me and they're both me and I don't know how that works or what's going on and I'm going to start crying probably

> This isn't the first time we've been here. Your 'man with the evil eyes' was the one that killed me, not the other way around.

He's not mine, and... It wouldn't be the same, the other way around. You need to slay him, not kill him.

- I get it. I'm a human, and he's a monster.

> Semantics.

Very important ones. Listen to me, hero. I hoped that this wouldn't happen, and I didn't want to scare you with the possibility. But please believe me—we're walking a fine line, now. All is not lost, but every failure widens his chance at escape.

Voice of the Curious: Really?

I do not like how you said that. This... voice, whatever it is, it seems very young. Don't let naivety influence you, hero. One failure means he's already found a chink in your armor—it is even more imperative you keep your guard up. Whatever he said, whatever he did, put it out of your mind. Focus on this. He is evil, and he will destroy everything if he escapes. You are the hero, the only one with the power to stop him. I—everything depends on you.

Voice of the Curious : That's a lot of pressure...

- I love pressure.

- I hate pressure.

> Are you really sure I can do this?

Yes. You’re the only one that can.

Voice of the Curious: Wow, she sounds... so serious. I don't know if I trust her, but I think she likes you.

Ha. That's... You matter a great deal to me. By definition, of course. You’re the hero, you matter to everyone. But we don't have time to sit here and talk about our feelings, whatever they might be. Your quest is the same, hero. It's time to go forward.

> (proceed to the prison)

N: At the edge of the water, the path of rocks continue—for a little while. Soon they're fewer and farther between, and in their place are footholds of debris, half-rotted hulls of wood, old chests rammed up on some invisible sandbank below the water. There have been many wrecks here, and as you pick your way forward, you see the largest of them up ahead. Splintered and broken, its massive hull impaled on the tall and jagged rocks that rise from the hidden seabed, like towers of some sunken castle. The rest of it is remarkably intact, but it looks ancient. Weathered, by years that have sapped color from cloth and wood and leached memory from material. Every detail blurred. The figurehead is faceless, nearly formless, like the... like the image of a loved one long forgotten.

> Are you all right?

Your path ends—or rather, takes a new form—at the side of the wreck. An old rope ladder leads up the barnacle-encrusted side. The old wood creaks as you ascend, but even that sound is... muted. This ship isn't just wrecked, it's becalmed. The muting of that sound makes you acutely aware of the absence of others. No birds cry in the sky; no fish splash in the water. The land behind you is already lost in a hazy fog. This is a lonely place.

Voice of the Curious: She's making it sound so depressing. It's sad, but it's also sort of cool, right? It's like an old pirate ship! It doesn't feel like a prison, it feels like... like a hideout!

Please be quiet. It's a prison. It might look... odd, but it's a prison.

Voice of the Curious : Do you think there's treasure?

...No.

Voice of the Curious: ...You want there to be treasure too, right?

I'm not interested. We have a very important job to do. To your left, across the weathered deck, a door leads to the fo'c'sle. It's not locked, but it's encrusted with barnacles, warped in its frame. Beside it, a sword is embedded in the wall, as if left there after a battle long ago. It gleams with its own light—

Voice of the Curious: It's not glowing, though. It's just a sword.

It's not—but... Ah. Yes. Well, it doesn't need to glow, does it? It's the hero's sword. It's made to kill evildoers and monsters. It's meant for your hand, and your hand alone. Take up the sword, hero. You'll need it if you want to save us all.

- But it's not glowing. Didn't you say it was important it glowed?

- What if I don't want to save everyone?

> take up the sword

- don't take up the sword

Sword in hand, you force open the door, rusted hinges screeching as you shove your whole body's weight against it. Before you is a sheer drop, lightless, only the first few feet visible in the foggy sunlight that filters past your shoulders. A rope ladder hangs over the ledge at your feet, vanishing into shadow. The air is musty, damp, and smells of moldering spice and rotting silk, wood permeated with gunsmoke and worried by the icy teeth of the ocean over the course of centuries. If this is the prison the king's been confined in, killing him will be a mercy.

His voice echoes up from the darkness, tired but commanding.

The King: I knew you'd return. Come here, boy. Let us speak face to face.

Voice of the Curious: He remembers us! And he sounds... older. I mean, he was already older than us. But he sounds much older now.

Of course he's old, he's been in prison for a long time. Don't dwell on it or wonder about it, the more time and thought you give him the more dangerous he is. Just get down there and accomplish your quest.

> proceed down the 'stairs'

After what feels like half an hour of nerve-wracking descent, feeling for foot and hand-holds in the darkness, light begins to bloom below you. When you come to the bottom, a few minutes later, you find yourself facing another door—this one richly carved wood, remarkably well-preserved considering the state of the ship. It's hard to make out much in the light filtering through the cracks around it, but you can see intricate, geometric patterns, and the snarling face of a boarlike beast carved huge in the very center.

Voice of the Curious: What—

You waste no time fooling around and asking questions, and open the door. Striding within, you find yourself confronted with a surprisingly lavish room, dimly lit by old oil-lamps. Rich rugs cover the floor; a huge bed stands in the back of the room, partly hidden by curtains, and a huge desk carved with intricate details dominates another side of the room. Tapestries, paintings and maps nearly cover the walls, save for a section that seems dedicated to a number of weapons—at a glance you see twin swords and a trident. Everything feels a little... oversized, as if you're a child venturing into the room of an adult. When you look closer, you can see signs of wear and age—cracking paint, books with pages puffed by soaking and drying out, scratches in the fine wood and dust on the tapestries—but the overall effect is still opulent, overwhelming. This feels right for a prison meant to confine a king; it would be suitable for an emperor, confined to his office by the new regime, allowed to keep a pretense of dignity.

But across the room from you, there's a strangely bare section of the wall, interrupted by only two things: A porthole filled more by spiderwebbing cracks than glass, showing only blank darkness, and the King, who stands tall and studies you thoughtfully with pale gold eyes.

The King: You approach me, yet again, with your blade in hand. Interesting.

He's a big man, broad and heavy, a physique that might impress as brutish or sedentary if not for the way he holds himself. Straight-backed, imperious, with a hint of a fighter's grace in the way his stance shifts as his eyes track the step you take forward. There's no gray in his hair, or deep wrinkles on his face, but something about him gives an impression of great age and greater weariness. His face is craggy, but his eyes are delicately lined with black; he wears a topaz on his brow, and fine robes that inspire ideas of entrenched and confident authority. As he seems to reach an internal resolution in his appraisal of you, his teeth bare in what is hard to determine as a mocking smile or a grimace of pain.

The King: I suppose that if you try to kill me this time, it will only be fair. But I'd rather we talk.

Voice of the Curious: Ooh, talk! Yes! I want to know what's going on! Just, um, maybe we should stay at a distance.

Remember what you're here for. Don't listen to him, or him. Please, hero. Kill him now.

- slay the king

- kill him?

- You killed me last time, I'd like an apology before we do anything else.

> All right. Let's talk.

#ganondorf #loz link #loz zelda #slay the princess #as in an au in the style of #wind waker #(essentially i mean obv this is the Wind Waker chapter and VoC is wind waker link tho i might tweak him)#and yes my idea is that the 2nd chapter ganondorfs are mainly based off his different game portrayals #(although i figure just 'ganon'/beast form at the very least might be a chapter 3)#i have so many vague ideas tho... like i'm debating whether i'd want to have a Damsel-esque based off the idea of 'nice' ganondorf #where he's totally defanged and like a happy jock #or lean into the dehumanization element of TotK as being equivalent to the Damsel.. sort of combining it and a more negative take #on the Adversary - not a cardboard cutout LI but a cardboard cutout villain #pretty and threatening with 0 cohesion or depth below the surface #probably netted by wholeheartedly believing Zelda's narration and leaning into your own 'hero' identity in your first encounter #...maybe if you make a bid for compassion/depth even in the face of that you get TP ganondorf?#the mocking warlord who's surrounded by hints of deeper history and context?#ok i'll stop now.#it's an old song and we're gonna sing it again #vic talks #LoZ

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istumpysk · 2 years

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Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ASOS: Daenerys V (Chapter 57)

The Great Masters of Meereen had withdrawn before Dany's advance, harvesting all they could and burning what they could not harvest. Scorched fields and poisoned wells had greeted her at every hand. Worst of all, they had nailed a slave child up on every milepost along the coast road from Yunkai, nailed them up still living with their entrails hanging out and one arm always outstretched to point the way to Meereen.

[...]

By the time they came to Meereen sitting on the salt coast beside her river, the count stood at one hundred and sixty-three. I will have this city, Dany pledged to herself once more.

I'm sure she'll handle this in the most levelheaded way possible.

+.+.+

High on the walls of Meereen, the jeers had grown louder, and now hundreds of the defenders were taking their lead from the hero and pissing down through the ramparts to show their contempt for the besiegers. They are pissing on slaves, to show how little they fear us, she thought. They would never dare such a thing if it were a Dothraki khalasar outside their gates.

Outside which gates will you be bringing a Dothraki khalasar?

+.+.+

"Strong Belwas was a slave here in the fighting pits. If this highborn Oznak should fall to such the Great Masters will be shamed, while if he wins . . . well, it is a poor victory for one so noble, one that Meereen can take no pride in." And unlike Ser Jorah, Daario, Brown Ben, and her three bloodriders, the eunuch did not lead troops, plan battles, or give her counsel. He does nothing but eat and boast and bellow at Arstan. Belwas was the man she could most easily spare.

What if I told you eating is what makes Belwas indispensable?

+.+.+

Belwas might have been made of stone as well. He stood in the horse's path, his vest stretched tight across his broad back. Oznak's lance was leveled at the center of his chest. Its bright steel point winked in the sunlight. He's going to be impaled, she thought . . . as the eunuch spun sideways. And quick as the blink of an eye the horseman was beyond him, wheeling, raising the lance.

[...]

Meereen's pink-and-white hero tried to anticipate this time, and swung his lance sideways at the last second to catch Strong Belwas when he dodged. But the eunuch had anticipated too, and this time he dropped down instead of spinning sideways. The lance passed harmlessly over his head. And suddenly Belwas was rolling, and bringing the razor-sharp arakh around in a silver arc. They heard the charger scream as the blade bit into his legs, and then the horse was falling, the hero tumbling from the saddle.

My toxic trait is that I'm totally convinced I could do this. Like it's hard?

+.+.+

"We would braid your hair and hang a bell in it, Strong Belwas," said Jhiqui, "but you have no hair to braid."

"Strong Belwas needs no tinkly bells."

Damn, the shade.

+.+.+

"Did you see them bronze heads above the gates?" asked Brown Ben Plumm. "Rows of harpy heads with open mouths? The Meereenese can squirt boiling oil out them mouths, and cook your axemen where they stand."

Like Jon and the Night's Watch!

+.+.+

Ser Jorah looked unhappy. "We'll starve long before they do, Your Grace. There's no food here, nor fodder for our mules and horses. I do not like this river water either. Meereen shits into the Skahazadhan but draws its drinking water from deep wells. Already we've had reports of sickness in the camps, fever and brownleg and three cases of the bloody flux.

Raise your hand if you knew Bran's well (Arya's well) was leading somewhere.

+.+.+

Already we've had reports of sickness in the camps, fever and brownleg and three cases of the bloody flux. There will be more if we remain. The slaves are weak from the march."

"Freedmen," Dany corrected. "They are slaves no longer." "Slave or free, they are hungry and they'll soon be sick.

Don't you hate it when your own captains don't play along?

Here comes the pale mare! Ready to be mounted.

+.+.+

"If I let Meereen's old brick walls defeat me so easily, though, how will I ever take the great stone castles of Westeros?"

"As Aegon did," Ser Jorah said, "with fire. By the time we reach the Seven Kingdoms, your dragons will be grown.

At least we're being honest with ourselves.

+.+.+

"I know a way." Brown Ben Plumm stroked his speckled grey-and-white beard. "Sewers."

"Sewers? What do you mean?"

"Great brick sewers empty into the Skahazadhan, carrying the city's wastes. They might be a way in, for a few. That was how I escaped Meereen, after Scarb lost his head." Brown Ben made a face. "The smell has never left me. I dream of it some nights."

Ser Jorah looked dubious. "Easier to go out than in, it would seem to me. These sewers empty into the river, you say? That would mean the mouths are right below the walls."

Oh yeah? Sewers? Was it sewers? Is that how you escaped the city? You travelled by sewer, and it made you smell rank?

Wow, isn't that exactly what happened after Arya befriended some dragon skulls?

Isn't that exactly what happened after she descended that well? You know, the well that's notably similar to the well we just visited in the previous chapter?

She found the wall again and followed, blind and lost, pretending that Nymeria was padding along beside her in the darkness. At the end she was knee-deep in foul-smelling water, wishing she could dance upon it as Syrio might have, and wondering if she'd ever see light again. It was full dark when finally Arya emerged into the night air.

She found herself standing at the mouth of a sewer where it emptied into the river. She stank so badly that she stripped right there, dropping her soiled clothing on the riverbank as she dove into the deep black waters. She swam until she felt clean, and crawled out shivering. - Arya III, AGOT

+.+.+

There's things down there too. Biggest rats you ever saw, and worse things.

+.+.+

Her captains bowed and left her with her handmaids and her dragons. But as Brown Ben was leaving, Viserion spread his pale white wings and flapped lazily at his head. One of the wings buffeted the sellsword in his face. The white dragon landed awkwardly with one foot on the man's head and one on his shoulder, shrieked, and flew off again. "He likes you, Ben," said Dany.

"And well he might." Brown Ben laughed. "I have me a drop of the dragon blood myself, you know."

Two drops or one? We'll later learn it's rumoured Ben Plumm's great-great-grandparents were Aegon the Unworthy and Elaena Targaryen.

Today I learned Elaena's most cherished possession was a dragon egg with a white and gold stony shell. The same colour as Viserion.

Am I going anywhere with this? No. This has been useless facts by stumpy.

+.+.+

"Well," said Brown Ben, "there was some old Plumm in the Sunset Kingdoms who wed a dragon princess. My grandmama told me the tale. He lived in King Aegon's day."

"Which King Aegon?" Dany asked. "Five Aegons have ruled in Westeros." Her brother's son would have been the sixth, but the Usurper's men had dashed his head against a wall.

Maybe, maybe not.

+.+.+

Dany giggled like a little girl. "Did your grandmother claim she'd actually seen this prodigy?"

"That the old crone never did. She was half-Ibbenese and half-Qohorik, never been to Westeros, my grandfather must have told her. Some Dothraki killed him before I was born."

A Dothraki killed Ben Plumm's grandfather. I'll remember that.

+.+.+

When Brown Ben left, she lay back on her cushions. "If you were grown," she told Drogon, scratching him between the horns, "I'd fly you over the walls and melt that harpy down to slag."

Who needs subtext?

+.+.+

But it would be years before her dragons were large enough to ride. And when they are, who shall ride them? The dragon has three heads, but I have only one.

Bad news Daenerys, I don't think Aegon VI or Aemon have any interest in riding your dragon.

+.+.+

She thought of Daario. If ever there was a man who could rape a woman with his eyes . . .

To be sure, she was just as guilty. Dany found herself stealing looks at the Tyroshi when her captains came to council, and sometimes at night she remembered the way his gold tooth glittered when he smiled. That, and his eyes. His bright blue eyes.

Who could ever resist bright beautiful blue rapey eyes??

A black leather patch covered Euron's left eye, but his right was blue as a summer sky. - The Iron Captain, AFFC

+.+.+

On the road from Yunkai, Daario had brought her a flower or a sprig of some plant every evening when he made his report . . . to help her learn the land, he said. Waspwillow, dusky roses, wild mint, lady's lace, daggerleaf, broom, prickly ben, harpy's gold . . .

Oh my god, they think this is foreshadowing for their ship, don't they?

Look at the names of these flowers! Lmao

+.+.+

Dany tried to imagine what it would be like if she allowed Daario to kiss her, the way Jorah had kissed her on the ship. The thought was exciting and disturbing, both at once. It is too great a risk. The Tyroshi sellsword was not a good man, no one needed to tell her that. Under the smiles and the jests he was dangerous, even cruel.

I have a question, is it normal to throb over a dangerous cruel man?

+.+.+

Could I love Daario? What would it mean, if I took him into my bed? Would that make him one of the heads of the dragon? Ser Jorah would be angry, she knew, but he was the one who'd said she had to take two husbands. Perhaps I should marry them both and be done with it.

Jesus, please don't say things like that, I start writing fanfiction in my head.

When Victarion opened his hand, his palm was red with blood. "I'll go to Slaver's Bay, aye. I'll find this dragon woman, and I'll bring her back." But not for you. You stole my wife and despoiled her, so I'll have yours. The fairest woman in the world, for me. - The Reaver, AFFC

+.+.+

I want to feel the wind on my face, and smell the sea. "Missandei," she called, "have my silver saddled. Your own mount as well."

The little scribe bowed. "As Your Grace commands. Shall I summon your bloodriders to guard you?"

"We'll take Arstan. I do not mean to leave the camps." She had no enemies among her children.

This should go well.

+.+.+

Many of the freedmen believed there was good fortune in her touch. If it helps give them courage, let them touch me, she thought. There are hard trials yet ahead . . .

Dany had stopped to speak to a pregnant woman who wanted the Mother of Dragons to name her baby when someone reached up and grabbed her left wrist. Turning, she glimpsed a tall ragged man with a shaved head and a sunburnt face. "Not so hard," she started to say, but before she could finish he'd yanked her bodily from the saddle. The ground came up and knocked the breath from her, as her silver whinnied and backed away. Stunned, Dany rolled to her side and pushed herself onto one elbow . . .

. . . and then she saw the sword.

"There's the treacherous sow," he said. "I knew you'd come to get your feet kissed one day."

[...]

The old man feinted with one end of the staff, pulled it back, and whipped the other end about faster than Dany would have believed. The Titan's Bastard staggered back into the surf, spitting blood and broken teeth from the ruin of his mouth. Whitebeard put Dany behind him. Mero slashed at his face. The old man jerked back, cat-quick. The staff thumped Mero's ribs, sending him reeling. Arstan splashed sideways, parried a looping cut, danced away from a second, checked a third mid-swing.

"I knew you'd come to get your feet kissed one day."

Ouch.

That's the second time Barristan has stopped a murder!

"Barristan the Bold, they call him. Twice he has saved me from assassins." - Daenerys III, ADWD

Can he stop a third assassin? Lol, no.

Titan's Bastard. Cat-quick. Staff. Danced. -> Weird.

+.+.+

He laid the point of his sword against the old man's neck. "Khaleesi, before you kneels Ser Barristan Selmy, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, who betrayed your House to serve the Usurper Robert Baratheon."

The old knight did not so much as blink. "The crow calls the raven black, and you speak of betrayal."

Jorah Mormont is begging for it right now.

What is this guy's problem? You're this territorial? Barristan Selmy is an old ass man, relax.

+.+.+

I might be serving in King's Landing still if the vile boy upon the Iron Throne had not cast me aside, it shames me to admit. But when he took the cloak that the White Bull had draped about my shoulders, and sent men to kill me that selfsame day, it was as though he'd ripped a caul off my eyes. That was when I knew I must find my true king, and die in his service—"

We'll see about that.

+.+.+

"It may be that I must die a traitor's death," Ser Barristan said. "If so, I should not die alone. Before I took Robert's pardon I fought against him on the Trident. You were on the other side of that battle, Mormont, were you not?" He did not wait for an answer. "Your Grace, I am sorry I misled you. It was the only way to keep the Lannisters from learning that I had joined you. You are watched, as your brother was. Lord Varys reported every move Viserys made, for years. Whilst I sat on the small council, I heard a hundred such reports. And since the day you wed Khal Drogo, there has been an informer by your side selling your secrets, trading whispers to the Spider for gold and promises."

He cannot mean . . . "You are mistaken." Dany looked at Jorah Mormont. "Tell him he's mistaken. There's no informer. Ser Jorah, tell him. We crossed the Dothraki sea together, and the red waste . . ." Her heart fluttered like a bird in a trap. "Tell him, Jorah. Tell him how he got it wrong."

[...]

She backed away from him. "How could you? What did the Usurper promise you? Gold, was it gold?" The Undying had said she would be betrayed twice more, once for gold and once for love. "Tell me what you were promised?"

"Varys said . . . I might go home." He bowed his head.

Oops, look what you stepped in, Jorah.

He was promised a pardon, not gold. She doesn't register that at all. For the record, Tyrion has the next chapter.

+.+.+

Her dragons sensed her fury. Viserion roared, and smoke rose grey from his snout. Drogon beat the air with black wings, and Rhaegal twisted his head back and belched flame. I should say the word and burn the two of them.

I can feel how badly you want to.

I assume we're saving it. Who's the lucky one?

+.+.+

Dany felt hot tears on her cheeks. Drogon screamed, lashing his tail back and forth. "The Others can have you both." Go, go away forever, both of you, the next time I see your faces I'll have your traitors' heads off. She could not say the words, though. They betrayed me. But they saved me. But they lied. "You go . . ." My bear, my fierce strong bear, what will I do without him? And the old man, my brother's friend. "You go . . . go . . ." Where?

And then she knew.

The sewers! Watch out for the rats!

The Others can have you both!

Traitors! Betrayals! Tyrion! ->

Final thoughts:

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #asos #daenerys v

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helluva-world-innit · 7 months

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Not entirely happy with how this turned out but my skill level is what it is right now and I did say I wanted to keep this blog somewhat active so here's a drawing I colored today of my depiction of Wrath.

So, I'm working on art of the Rings to try and get a feel for drawing them ahead of time and I'm going to explain how things work in each Ring too. Buckle up, it's a long post under the cut.

In my version of the story, Wrath is the first ring of Hell, top-down. It is represented by the color red but, as you can see here, there is a lot of orange and yellow as well. Now, I liked the concept of Wrath being hot and having lots of lava flowing through it but not the idea of it being the agricultural center of the realm. It should be mostly about fucking shit up and bloodshed. Making Sinners hurt for entertainment purposes. Oh, that's a thing too: Sinners can move between the Rings in my version. In fact, there is no one Ring they all come into Hell through. Upon death, a Sinner drops into whatever sin was closest to their heart when they died. E.g. Someone who was killed while pulling a heist goes to Greed. Someone who died of a drug overdose goes to Gluttony, etc. Lots of Sinners end up in Wrath and Envy Rings. Not because that's the first time they've sinned, but just that's the strongest one for them at the time.

So, Wrath is pretty unbearable, heat-wise and denizen-wise. Lots of toxic and ambush predator animals along with a thriving headhunting trade among the local imps. The main draw for the Hellborn and some ambitious and fearless Sinners is the arena: Satan's Jaws (or just The Jaws; everyone knows which ones you mean here). Black sands and no sun. The whole Ring is basically a massive cave-like structure with large stalactites hanging from high above. And yes, they do often fall and impale anyone unfortunate enough to be underneath them when they do. The flying things are dragons. They roam wild in Wrath and cause plenty of problems when they move into one of the few densely populated areas. They're also good eatin' if you can manage to kill them before they kill you.

Satan's Jaws is where battles are fought to entertain the Ringmaster herself, Satan. If she's impressed enough, the winner might get to "live" to fight again next week. If she hated it bad enough, she'll just punish and "kill" you herself. See, Sinners don't die by traditional methods. Only way to truly end them is with holy weapons or holy fire. The torment can last indefinitely as holy weapons are taken off any angel that strays into Hell and kept only where Ringmaster Leviathan of the Envy Ring knows and it ain't talkin'.

That's the other thing about Wrath: on the border, between Hell, Earth, and Heaven a perpetual battle is fought by the soldiers of Hell and of Heaven. Called a "skirmish" by some and an "excuse to invade and conquer" by others, it has been going on since the last war between the realms. To feed the never ending conflict's need for powerful bodies, every demon with rank is encouraged to produce as many children as possible. Some are incapable of this task, again, thanks to the War of the Fallen where the angels who rebelled against Heaven were cast down into Hell to remain and made sterile on top of that. Some demons, however produce enough offspring for several armies. Satan is one such being. All of the imps in Hell are descended from her, if removed by several millennia. she hasn't felt the need to produce more children since around the fall of the Roman Empire.

Sinners are often conscripted to fight on the border or in The Jaws either as a torture method or with the promise of being initiated by a Ringmaster to the rank of Overseer if they show great skill or strength. Hellborns don't survive the process of initiation but enjoy putting Sinners and angels "in their place" and volunteer to do so in droves.

The Circus is also held here once every year. A Hell-wide event that is meant to encourage inter-Ring unity and is basically where some of the worst behavior Hell has to offer goes down including, but not limited to: larceny, kidnapping, murder (Hellborns can and do die if killed while in Hell), hard drug abuse, sexual misconduct of all varieties (both consensual and not; it is Hell and it does happen. i will not be depicting it, but it does happen), drunken and wanton destruction of anything not bolted down (hence why The Jaws are the chosen locale), and cannibalism. It's like if Burning Man was arranged by Jeff Dalmer, okay? Just all around madness and debauchery fueled by a need to mentally escape Hell and also prove you're the worst of the worst. There is also a competition held. A series of tests the Ringmasters issue to the newest Overseer hopefuls. Last one standing gets endorsed and initiated by the Ringmaster who chose them to participate.

Notable characters from this Ring are Millie/her family, Striker, and as yet to be revealed Overseers of the Ring. Also planning on doing a map view of this Ring later so I can paint a better picture of where everything is in relation to each other.

Up next: Gluttony Ring!

#jack is wording again #7 levels of wtf #helluva redesign #helluva boss critical #hazbin hotel critical #wrath ring

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tyrannuspitch · 1 year

Text

mcu loki + the threefold death

but what am i even talking about when i say "threefold death", i hear no-one cry. well, i'm glad you didn't ask. let me explain.

the threefold death is a motif in indo-european mythology. (a hypothetical, possibly controversial one, but i'm talking about the mcu and the mcu has vikings in horned helmets, so anything goes.) essentially, a threefold death is just a death where you die by three methods simultaneously. in germanic mythology, the methods are typically hanging, drowning, and wounding.

the most notable threefold death in germanic mythology is odin's, where he hangs himself from the world tree, impales himself on a spear, and hangs there for nine days. (hypothetically, drowning was originally involved too, but it got lost somewhere along the way.) as a god, he sacrifices himself to himself, and this act wins him secret knowledge (the runes).

we do not see odin do anything remotely resembling this within the mcu. but you know what we do see? loki dying three times: in thor 1, thor 2, and infinity war.

let's break this down.

dying by three means

this is simple enough: just establishing that the motif is present.

loki falls from the rainbow bridge into the abyss of space. logically, he should suffocate; symbolically, space vikings have space as their equivalent to the sea. either way this death is drowning.

loki is run through with a sword on svartalfheim. no justification needed, this is literally death by wounding.

loki's neck is snapped by thanos as he is half-strangled and lifted into the air. there is no rope, but this death is otherwise indistinguishable from hanging.

hanging from the world tree

mythological odin hangs from the world tree: outside of the structure of the habitable universe, in the space between worlds. and similarly, mcu loki's three deaths each take place in uninhabitable liminal spaces, often spaces strongly associated with death.

the abyss is obviously space itself, but it's also a) where asgardians bury their dead, and b) asgard's equivalent to the wilderness. they have to pass through it every time they journey anywhere else, sticking strictly to the path; and it isn't miles away beyond the atmosphere - it starts exactly where civilisation stops.

svartalfheim is a dead world, and has been reduced to a featureless wasteland. in addition, all the nine realms are blurring together during the alignment.

the statesman is a refugee ship that arguably becomes a ghost ship. not only is it within the liminal space of uhhh space (see above), it carries a people who no longer have a home to return to, and most of them do not finish their journey. this leaves them eternally suspended in space, on a journey with no beginning and no end.

in addition: mythological odin was left hanging from the world tree for nine days. similarly, mcu loki is never given a proper burial. his body is lost in the abyss; then abandoned on svartalfheim; then irrecoverable in the wreck of the statesman.

i would argue that this is what allows him to keep coming back. he is left between worlds and, by his lack of funeral rites, between life and death.

self-sacrifice

mythological odin sacrifices himself willingly. mcu loki has a complicated relationship to sacrifice, but it is undeniable that all three of his deaths are at least somewhat self-inflicted.

in thor 1, loki attempts suicide.

in thor 2, loki is stabbed while saving thor.

in infinity war, loki dies trying to kill thanos.

the latter two also, arguably, have suicidal undertones. among other things, these also the only two occasions in any of the movies when loki verbally claims his jotun identity, which was a major factor in his original suicide attempt.

sacrifice of oneself, to oneself

mythological odin sacrifices himself to himself, not any higher power. mcu loki... doesn't quite do that.

the closest we get is his original suicide attempt: he's not trying to die "for" anyone; he's trying to escape. it's self-destructive, but not selfless - he is trying to spare himself further misery.

it is notable that this comes AFTER loki makes an attempt at genuine self-sacrifice to odin. he doesn't try to die, but he tries a proxy: destroying jotunheim. this is loki trying to kill the parts of himself that he hates, and trying to demonstrate total, perfect loyalty to asgardian supremacy. he's saying he will do anything for odin. he's not sacrificing himself to odin in the sense of dying for him, but in the sense of devoting himself to a god.

and crucially, odin rejects him. and loki realises that he cannot bear to live under odin's power any longer. so he chooses the only alternative he sees.

the next two deaths, however, ARE loki dying for his family (and asgard) once more. depending on your perspective, you could call this growth or regression.

on one hand, you could argue that loki originally felt he needed to sacrifice himself to odin to have any worth, but later rejects this and chooses to sacrifice himself for thor, purely because he loves him.

on the other hand, you could argue that this love is part of odin's conditioning of loki, and that the self-hatred is in fact still in play - and that it all still serves the throne of asgard in the end.

but whatever perspective you take, loki does continue to grapple with odin and defy him to at least some level. even in infinity war, he calls himself an odinson only days or weeks after destroying the seat of odin's empire. and both these deaths are also direct resistance to the odin-like imperialists malekith and thanos, and the genocides they want to commit.

it's not a straight-forward or pretty path - could a string of suicide attempts ever be? - but loki is trying to find his way towards freedom and a moral system of his own. he may not quite be sacrificing himself to himself, but he is trying to do something for himself.

secret knowledge gained

loki comes back different after every death, but none so much as his third death in infinity war. this time, he comes back in near-infinite forms, culminating in a) sylvie and b) "our" variant!loki.

yes, from sylvie and variant!loki's own perspectives, they come from before, not after, the events of infinity war. but from the TVA's and HWR's perspective, the whole of loki's life is something predetermined that plays out on a loop. it was already in HWR/kang's past before he discovered the multiverse and started the multiversal war, so it's foundational to the sacred timeline and the universe that the TVA controls.

(and also, of course, from the audience's perspective, the loki show happens after infinity war, and the show is meta enough that that really does count for something.)

therefore, it is only after infinity war/"the sacred timeline" has been established that loki can step outside the story and begin to rewrite it.

after the threefold death, loki is able to understand a fundamental truth about the universe and grapple directly with his fate.

and perhaps, if season two is kind us, he will find a path to free will that doesn't involve any more self-destruction. and a way to free the universe from the genocidal tyrants without bringing down the apocalypse.

any questions?

"those are three sequential deaths, not just one!" yeah maybe. but consider the following:

time is relative and these guys live for millennia. seven years isn't that long to them

loki is undead as fuck (1, 2), so you could argue that he IS dying for all seven years

all the deaths have similar circumstances and serve a similar purpose, so you can view them as one extended process.

"what do you think it means that mcu loki is taking on mythological odin's role?" i'm not entirely sure yet! here are some ideas:

odin pretends to be a hero, when he is actually a brutal imperialist. loki and thor both begin by mimicking the worst of him (by being imperialists and calling it heroism), but grow to make best of him real for the first time (by freeing the universe from tyrants)

you steal a baby, the baby steals from you. what did you expect.

"but isn't the loki show pro-TVA and therefore pro-fate?"

nope.

don't even get me started.

"you can't be telling me you actually liked infinity war"

i'm not trying to. i haven't even seen past the first fifteen minutes.

i have found a fun symbolic niche and there i shall make my home.

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gross-text-adventures · 6 months

Note

Karkat: Watch the suit put itself on.

==> MECHANICAL NOISES

This path contains content related to suiting and costume play.

Karkat: Hear mechanical noises

Whatever's controlling the suit abruptly releases its hold, leaving Karkat to try and move himself in its constricting confines. He can just about stay standing, but turning takes a massive effort as the suit's bulky tail and padded waist threaten his balance.

When he manages to face the room at large, he sees the source of the noise; the raised podium he'd noticed before now has a number of mechanical appendages hanging in the air around it, released from small hatches in the ceiling above. He's just decided that he has no intention of getting anywhere near the platform when two of the grippers take that decision away from him, snatching him under the armpits and depositing him in the middle of the podium.

Before he can get his bearings, the grippers have retreated and a different set of arms has snapped forward to work on him. One of them holds a stripe of fabric, with the same red scale pattern as the rest of the suit, while two others begin to expertly work needles in and out of the suit.

Karkat holds very still as the needles work, hardly daring to breathe. Whatever's controlling those arms knows what it's doing, but Karkat isn't eager to mess up its aim and end up impaled through the lungs by those wickedly sharp points.

As he watches them work, though, he wishes he was brave enough to move against it. The needles are sewing the patch of fabric into place directly over the suit's zipper, two neat lines of stitches working up his chest and towards his neck. The needlework is so fine that Karkat can't make out where the two pieces of fabric connect, and when the stitches have made their way up and around to the back of his neck, he knows that there's both no way to tell anyone is in the suit, and no way to reach the sliderless zipper to release him.

When the needles retreat, Karkat has a minute to try and get his bearings. He moves his arms as best he can, the plush surrounding them limiting his range of motion as he wobbles from foot to clunky foot. He grabs at his chest, but the suit's claws are too blunt to get under the rows of neat stitches now holding him in. He tries to pull the suit's head off, but it's too securely attached to even begin to come off, and messing with it leaves him blind when his eyes aren't aligned with the suit's eyeholes. All he really succeeds in is looking like an idiot and working up a sweat - this thing is warm, too.

When he's able to see again, he notices a new device in one of the arms, looking like an oversized barcode scanner. It's being put away even as he watches, apparently having already scanned whatever it's meant to see. He isn't left in suspense for long before a voice comes across some unseen intercom, clearly made from spliced recordings of a woman's voice.

"Scan complete. Suit attachment complete. Subject confirmed to be appropriately coercible."

What the hell does that mean?!

"Proceeding to personalise and specialise suit. This suit will be used for:"

There's a long pause, possibly as something is computed behind the scenes, before the voice speaks again.

DAYCARE HELPER | COMMERCIAL PRODUCT | OTHER

GO BACK

#karkat text adventure #suiting content

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catboyebooks · 1 year

Text

nanami gets a little mini motive rant moment of her own here, probably not recognizable as such unless you already know she's technically the killer this case, but she's arguing that komaeda's death is a suicide. the others seem less sure. souda in particular points out that it seems too convenient for this to be a suicide, and every previous time that they've thought "there's no way any of us could have done this" they were wrong. nanami says this is true, they've been betrayed over and over, but no matter how many times she's betrayed she still wants to keep believing in everybody. (remind you of anyone?)

the following discussion happens with nanami directing the conversation, but not directly providing any of the answers; actually, i think her programming probably disallows her from actively solving the cases herself, that wouldn't be "fair" and all. i'm summarizing multiple nonstop debates and a logic dive here but hinata figures out that the spear was hanging from the ceiling girder above komaeda by its cord, the end of which komaeda was holding in his left hand so that the spear would fall and impale him when his grip released.

souda still questions whether this was really suicide and nanami says there was no other reason to use the spear other than to make this setup possible. it's a pretty unwieldy weapon, not useful to commit murder with, but could be used to stage your own murder to look like someone else did it. hinata agrees with her. everyone remarks on the crazy amount of stamina it must have taken for komaeda to keep holding onto the spear cord while injuring himself repeatedly, and how he must have taped his own mouth shut so they wouldn't hear him scream. i guess i'll remark on that too: god damn

hinata realizes that komaeda must have set up his own suicide to look like a murder in order to trick them into voting wrong, meaning his goal was to get them all executed. (well, he's very close to the truth here.) everyone's shocked at the idea that komaeda could have hated them that much, though hinata kind of tries to play it off like this is expected behavior (when souda says this is seriously messed up hinata responds "yep, that's komaeda") but then starts internally calling himself stupid for having sympathized with komaeda earlier and thinks about how he never realized komaeda could be so malicious, so he's clearly not taking this well.

#kes plays sdr2

0 notes

just-a-creep-babe · 3 years

Text

Teasing & Denial~

Ticci Toby x Reader Smut

Commissioned by anonymous, thank you so much luv 🥰😘

Requests are closed

Masterlist: x

His hands are pinned up above his head, shirt lifted to expose his chest while his pants have been shoved down to reveal his cock

He’s hard and throbbing as he twitches beneath your touch

“P-please… please…” he whines

His shallow breaths are hot and heavy as he pants the words out

“F-fuck—pretty please—!”

You chuckle, but refuse to give him what he wants

Instead, you swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock, lapping at the precum beading up his slit

He flexes his wrists against the restraints, jutting his hips up and throwing his head back with a deliciously pathetic whine

“You’re so cute, baby boy~ Such a good, obedient little slut for me, aren’t you?~” you coo

He nods frantically, whimpering

“Y-yes—please. I’m—I’m your good slut, (y/n)! G-god, fuck, please!~”

He jerk up again, looking for some kind of contact, some kind of release—only to get absolutely nothing

You have to bite back a smirk as you run the pads of your fingers up and down the underside of his shaft

His body thrashes—a twitch or voluntary movement, you’re not sure—and more sweet moans escape him

“Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me, and I just might reward you~”

“I—a-ah~ I wanna—wanna cum. P-please, Mistress, I wanna cum so badly. Pretty please—”

You hum

He looks so desperate

You know he’s at a point where he’d do anything for you—and the thought of having someone so dangerous at the mercy of your touch is exhilarating

Without breaking eye contact, you wrap your lips around him and watch as he shudders and gasps

But you don’t take him any further down your throat

Instead, you trace your tongue over his slit, lathering the tip with attention while ignoring the rest of his pulsing length

He looks so cute, so absolutely adorable as he writhes, trying to flex into your mouth, his head falling back and chest heaving with every choked moan

You let him hump himself into your mouth for a while, never letting him get more than a few inches deep before pulling back all over again

He’s so eager, so wonderfully responsive as you pleasure him between your lips

Your tongue flicks at his most sensitive parts in short, quickly repeating motions while you hollow out your cheeks at the same time

You can feel him trying to fuck himself into your mouth as best as he can, moaning and squirming for more

And right as he’s starting to get a bit too eager for your liking, you pull away, and the wet warmth of your tongue disappears from his pulsing cock completely

“N-no! Fuck, fuck—please!”

His fervent protests fall on deaf ears

“Aww, I’m sorry, baby,” you pout mockingly, “Were you getting close again? Hm? Did you wanna cum in my mouth?”

Toby’s always been the softest, sweetest boy you’ve ever been with

You almost feel bad for being so cruel, denying his release for this long despite him being as obedient and submissive as ever

But he’s just so much fun to tease, how could you possibly resist?

He nods at your question, still dazed and reeling from the shock of being denied yet again

You tilt you head, coy smirk playing at your lips, and watch as he takes in deep, shuddering breaths, trying to control the way his hips keep stuttering up for your touch

It’s all too endearing, really~

“So cute, baby. You’re so cute when you get all desperate for me~”

You trace down his torso, and he squirms beneath feather-light touches

“(Y-y/n)—Mistress~”

Panting and shaking, he whimpers your name, looking up at you like you’re a goddess

You toy with your bottom lip between your teeth, body tingling pleasantly at the sight he offers

But still, you manage to resist getting too excited in the moment

Instead, you continue tracing down his form, gently stroking his scarred skin as you give him time to catch his breath

You want him nice and ready for what you have in mind, after all~

When his breathing’s calmed down and you think he’s had enough time to recover, you wrap your hand around the toy strapped to your hips, giving the silicon cock a few strokes just to tease him

His gaze immediately fixates on your movements, his own member twitching in need as his hips rolling up into nothing at the same pace that you jerk the toy

He bites his lip, brows furrowing

And then you release your grip on the fake shaft, chuckling at the urgency in his eyes

“You want this, baby?”

He swallows thickly

“Yes,” he breaths out

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows back another moan before adding, “p-pretty please—“

His begging is all you need to hear

You reach out, grabbing a fistful of his dark brown locks between your fingers

And then you tug his head to the side for access to his neck, being delicate enough to not injure him, but harsh enough to be firm and commanding

He whines, but lets you take control of his body nonetheless

He’s all yours to use, all yours to play with~

Your lips find purchase on his neck in a teasing kiss, teeth nipping at flesh before moving down to his collarbone

You take your sweet, sweet time littering love marks all over him until reddish-purple flowers are blossoming on his skin

He shudders as you do, still wriggling and writhing beneath you, his member rubbing against your thigh and smearing streaks of white every time he tries to grind up for more friction

“That’s my good boy~”

Your free hand lines the toy up to his entrance while you’re distracting him with your mouth

You murmur encouraging nothings as you ever so slowly ease into him—all the way until the toy’s completely disappearing inside him

His lips part in a hushed moan as you bottom out, his eyes glazing over and back arches for more

“Look at you, baby. You’re so cute, so fucking perfect for me~”

Your eager praises are accompanied by slow, gentle thrusts

His hands ball into fists above his head, muscles tensing as wave upon wave of pleasure crashes through him

There’s a perfectly blissed-out look on his face as you rock into him with calculated movements

Try as he might to hold back his desperate sounds, the room is filled with his eager cries

It’s like music to your ears~

He rolls his hips back, meeting you halfway for every thrust, trying to get you to go faster and harder, but you maintain your even pace

“(Y-y/n), please. More. P-please, I need more~”

You hum, biting your lip, enjoying the way his cock twitches against your stomach

He wants you

He wants you to get him off—wants you to pound into him until he’s nothing but a shambling, babbling mess of a person

But you’re not done having your fun just yet~

“You want more, baby? Yeah? I bet you want me to fuck your dumb little brain out, don’t you?”

He nods frantically, and he’s about to say something, but he quickly cuts himself off with a loud moan as you hit that spot inside him

He jerks, a string of curses escaping him, his body tensing so that you can see his muscles tightening beneath his sweat-slicked skin

His sounds are nearly driving you desperate as well

It takes more willpower than you’d like to admit to pause, keeping still so that the toy is just barely grazing the same spot

“N-no!” he whines in protest, cursing, knowing all too well what you plan on doing to him.

You have to resist touching yourself at the sight of him so worked up

“P-please—don’t stop! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Please—“

“Tsk tsk tsk,” you shush him, tapping your fingers against his thighs, “ah ah, good boys don’t complain now, do they?”

He shuts his eyes, brows furrowing and body trembling as his teeth find purchase on his bottom lip until it bleeds

You smack his thigh, forcing him to release his lip and return his attention back to you

He shakes his head in response to your previous question, swallowing thickly, looking up at you with lust-filled eyes

So submissive

“Good boy~” you praise, purring in satisfaction

You wrap a hand around the base of his cock to reward him, and watch as he bucks up, seeking more of your touch

“Are you gonna take it, baby? Gonna take my cock like the little slut you are?”

He nods eagerly, hands fumbling to grip the bindings for leverage on something

“Yes, please, I’ll be good,” he promises, groaning, “F-fuck, please fuck me, Mistress~”

You hum, running barely-there strokes up and down his stiff member, ever so faintly jerking him off to get him nice and riled up—even more so than he already is

It has his head falling back again, and you savor how vocal he becomes at the slightest hint of contact

You coo more praises, chuckling at how needy he looks when he squirms beneath you

You really do feel bad for teasing him this much when he’s been so obedient, hanging onto your every word—but you just can’t help it

He looks so damn cute when he’s this desperate

The slick pooling between your legs has gotten damn near unbearable by now, but you don’t want to stop just yet

No, you want to drag this out as long as you can

Which is why you take your time toying with him, moving your hips again to readjust him to the tempo of skin smacking against skin

You move faster than the last pace you’d set before, but still not as fast as you know he likes

Every time you pump the toy into him, it reaches right where it needs to—and with every push of your hips, you feel his body tense eagerly with a surge of pleasure and adrenaline

He looks so needy, trembling and mewling beneath you, that you can’t help but succumb to what he wants—what he needs

You give in to the desire to fuck him faster and harder, impaling him on the toy cock like he’s your own personal fucktoy

And your efforts are immediately rewarded

He’s loud and absolutely shameless as he cries out for you, cursing and mewling, yanking at his restraints, his back arching and his cock twitching impatiently

You know he won’t last very long at the rate you’re going

But you don’t want to stop just yet

You use him shamelessly and recklessly, taking out all of your frustrations by pounding into him until he’s gasping for breath

And then, right as he’s about to cum—his member tensing and his voice getting louder as he nears ever so close to ecstasy yet again—you stop

“N-no, fuck!” he cries out, rolling his hips, trying to find the slightest bit more friction to get off, but you pull away again before he can reach it

A few tears spill down his cheeks, his body unable to process the sheer lack of release he’s had to endure for god knows how long by now

“Aww, it’s alright, baby,” you shush him, wiping away his tears. “There’s no need to cry~”

Your cooing doesn’t do much to quell his desperation

“I-I wanna cum. Please, please let me cum, Mistress. Please~”

His begging goes straight to your core

You smoothen out his hair, contemplating the sadistic plan running through your head

You know fully well that you shouldn’t go through with it

It’s much too cruel

But at the same time, you don’t want him to stop being so desperate, so on edge for every faint bit of attention you give him

With a knowing smirk, you shake your head

“No baby, I don’t think you’ve earned it just yet tonight~”

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #Ticci Toby #ticci toby x reader smut #ticci toby x reader #creepypasta smut

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years

Note

Can we have a general yandere typing for the TW dorm leaders or your favorite dorm pls?

This is very, very general (it has to be, if I’m going to fit seven different characters into the same post), but I hope it covers what you’re looking for! I’ve been meaning to write a ‘darkest fantasy’ drabble for the dorm-heads but,,, this’ll have to do, for now.

The NRC Dorm Heads as Yanderes.

TW: Physical Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Dehumanization, Implied Kidnapping, Unhealthy Relationships, Mentions of Non-Consensual Touching, Mentions of Blood, and Implied Violence.

Riddle is Domineering.

He can’t change what he is, and even if he could, he wouldn’t see the need to. Riddle loves you, he loves you so, so much, but to him, you’re so reckless, so impulsive, so inept, it makes his underclassmen seem cautious, in comparison. He worries less for your safety than he does for your carelessness. He doesn’t think you’ll impale yourself on a banister or trip and manage to break your neck, and yet, he’s managed to convince himself that, the moment you’re left into your own devices, you’ll twist, distort, manage to take something that’s so precious to him and turn it into something perverse, something that doesn’t deserve to have a caretaker so devoted. If he has to take a few hours out of his busy schedule to make sure you understand why he’s so adamant that you obey him, then so be it. He’d rather have a perfect, prized doll who can’t meet his eyes without trembling than someone he doesn’t even know, someone he can’t even love. Someone who won’t let him love them, even when he’s made it so clear that if he suffocates you, it’s only because you've forgotten that you can only breathe because he lets you.

Leona is Jealous.

It’s such a classic younger-sibling complex, isn’t it? It’s not that he’s possessive, he’d be more than fine with carving you up and handing out the pieces if he knows who he’s sharing with, but he’s had a say in so little, he’s had so much snatched out of his grasp before he knew better than to let it go, he can’t stand the though of losing you like that, too. He needs to monopolize your time, your attention, he needs to monopolize you, because if he doesn’t someone else is going to come along to do it for him, and he knows they won’t treat you half as well as he will. It’s why he’s so quick to pull you away from conversations he didn’t give you permission to be a part of. It’s why he can’t seem to go five minutes without insulting your friends or implying that you could cling to him as much as he clings to you, even when the two of you have been along for hours. It’s why he’s so desperate to bite into your neck and burrow his nails under your skin and leave proof of his existance, if only to satisfy that repressed, buried, primal part of himself that just wants something he can own. And he will own you, by the time he’s done. He tends to be thorough, with the things he’s so determined to see play out.

Azul is Paranoid.

There’s a connotation with this kind of alignment that might be a little misleading, when it comes to Azul. He’s manipulative, too. He’s obsessive and he’s controlling and he’s so many other things, but above all, he’s terrified by the idea that one day, you might decide that he’s just some pathetic, pitiful bottom-feeder and move on to someone’s who’s worthy of you. His mindset seeps its way into his behavior visibly, tangibly, blatantly, whether or not he’s willing to admit it. A dozen locks on your bedroom door, a new contract he’s gone over a hundred times, a thousand kisses and a thousand promises and a thousand hours spent clinging to your waist, his face buried in your chest as he begs you to never make him let go. He feels like you’ll slip away if he doesn’t hold you close, like you’ll find a loophole or a way to leave him and he’ll never be able to get you back. It doesn’t help that he responds so reflexively to any change he didn’t acconut for. He can make all the plans in the world, contrive as many schemes as he’d like to, but all of his preparations won’t stop him from reacting so harshly when you say something he doesn’t want to hear or do something he didn’t see coming. Above all, he needs you to love him. He won’t respond well to any evidence of the contrary.

Kalim is Smothering.

You have to understand, he really, really thinks he’s just being the best boyfriend he can possibly be. Kalim is naive, like that. He loves you, and he doesn’t know better than to show that love off any way he can and every way he can. It kind of sweet, if you look at it like that. How is he supposed to know you wouldn’t enjoy receiving his gifts as much as he enjoys piling them onto you? You never told him how much his endless parties overwhelm you, so why would he ever stop throwing them? You always bite at your lips and look away and try to cover yourself when he gives you something pretty to wear, and Kalim just thinks you’re so beautiful, so wonderful, it’s only natural that he’ll - playfully, of course - pull you into his lap and go on about all the many reasons he loves you, layering on compliments so thickly, it’s only a matter of time before they start to seep into your lungs and force out the air. Remember, he’s blind to anything he doesn’t want to see, so by the time he finally crosses one too many lines and forced you to snap, he’ll be so caught off-guard, so heartbroken, he won’t know what to do besides buckle-down and give you more, force you to take more. He’s a simple man. If his antics were enough to make you snap at him, surely, more gifts, more attention, more love will only make things better.

Vil is Narcissistic.

This one speaks for itself, really. You might manage to worm your filthy little way into his heart, you might find a way to root yourself there and drive him to the point of near-insanity, but no matter how dear you are to him, no matter how much he loves you, you’ll always be second to the man himself, you’ll always be less than, compared to Vil. It shouldn’t be such a problem, he already acts like he should be the pinnacle of all mankind’s aspirations, but it’s taken to a new extreme when it comes to his closest companion. He expects to be doted on, to be worshiped, and when you’re not busy tripping over yourself to tend to his every desire, you should be hanging off his every word, letting him do whatever he’d like to because you’re just so honored he’d take a moment out of his day to look after you. If it takes a love potion or several, he’ll find a way to live with it. That’s the thing about a mentality like Vil’s, an obsession focused inward that just so happens to brush against someone it’s not meant to - he doesn’t really care about the parts of you that don’t lead back to him. Your health, your happiness, it’s all on the table if he has a chance to take hold of what he wants. He’s always been ambitious. You shouldn’t be surprised when he approaches your love with the same cut-throat attitude.

Idia is Possessive.

If it’s any help, he wants to lock himself away from the rest of the world just as much as he wants to isolate you. You’re the one person he can stand to be around, the one voice he’ll never get tired of, the one pair of eyes he knows will never judge him, even if he’d prefer that you call him more affectionate nicknames, as he explains that he’s just trying to keep the two of you content and alone. He’s greedy, when it comes to you, but that’s not his fault. He gets… sensitive, when you start to focus on other people, when you let other men touch you like they have any right to put their hands on something he deserves to keep to himself. It leads him to some habits he’s not proud of, some reactions that don’t exactly encourage you to indulge his more questionable habits, but while Idia still wants to be able to hide in your arms and ramble on to the only person he knows will listening, he stops caring about how much you want to embrace him, eventually. The world’s already so unfair in so many ways, and no one knows that more than Idia. He doesn’t think he’ll mind if you begin to think he’s as much of a disgusting freak as he already knows he is.

Malleus is Apathetic.

He wants to care. Don’t forget that - he really, really wants to care about your feelings, your interests, your happiness, all of it! He tries to care, too. Not a day passes where he doesn’t make an attempt to get you to smile, to coax out a hint of fondness from your scorned little heart, to sort through all the betrayal and the hurt and the pain and find something redeeming, something that proves he’s not making you any more miserable than he has to. He’ll give you what sparse freedoms he can, keeping your leash as slack as he can afford to, but when you take a step too close to an open window or refuse to hold his hand or he just decides it’s been a few minutes too long since you last swallowed your pride and showed him the affection he strives after like a touch-starved puppy, he never hesitates to pull you back to his side and ignore how violently you’re choking as he takes whatever he wants, whenever he wants it. He never feels guilty, either, not for the act itself. He’ll fret over the hatred in your eyes, he’ll loath himself whenever you flinch at the first signs of his touch, but in the back of his mind, he knows he deserves what he rips away from you. He’s doing you a favor. Humans are so fragile, so delicate, so easily tricked, and as a prince, a prodigy, a source of unadulterated power, he’s the only suitable candidate when it comes to keeping you safe, to guarding you as fiercely as dragon guards its hoard. He protects you, and he treats you like royalty while doing it, so he wants something in return. He doesn’t think he’s asking for a lot, considering how much he’s been denied.

You should just count yourself lucky Malleus might feel a little bad, by the time he’s done. At least he won’t leave you as bloody as he could, after he’s finished.

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salemwritesxx · 3 years

Text

lycoris radiata

↳ pro-hero bakugou x pro-hero reader

summary: The myth around red spider lilies, lycoris radiata, is that, when you see someone you may never meet again, these flowers will bloom along the path. Thus, when Y/n and Katsuki depart on the morning of their 6th wedding anniversary to walk to their respective agencies and spider lilies bloom along the path Bakugou is walking on, Y/n gets an uneasy feeling, unaware that the legend surrounding these flowers may have a germ of truth to them after all.

w.count: 2k

content warning: angst, major character death, which leads to reader committing suicide, afterlife happy ending

“Okay, hey-“, you grinned and pulled him back one last time to peck his lips, “-don’t forget our rendezvous tonight, yeah?”, to which Bakugou only rolled his eyes – in a playful way though as he immediately pressed a soft kiss onto your mouth once more, not caring that you two stood in the middle of the streets.

“Don’t worry, I won’t forget.”, and with that, you finally let your husband go, though as he walked away from you, you couldn’t help but witness red spider lilies blooming along the pathway, hence you yelled after him, “Babe? Be careful, okay?”

“Ha?”, when he turned around and you pointed to the flowers, Katsuki only laughed and gestured a ‘whatever’ and saying a “Don’t be so superstitious, Y/n. It’s just a myth!”

Even though you both chuckled as he turned around and walked away for real this time, you still felt a slight uneasy feeling in your stomach, though you simply thought it was because you were excited to celebrate your 6th wedding anniversary with your husband.

“KATSUKI!”

You screamed as if you were the one being impaled, your knees were shaking, feeling like the ground was opening up underneath your feet and you fell into a dark, black hole any second.

Coughing up blood, he was hanging on the villain’s arm which was weirdly transformed to look like a lance – Bakugou hadn’t seen it coming, if he would have, he…

“Pathetic.”, the villain almost spit into his face before dropping him onto the pavement like some sort of trash, only to jump back immediately when other heroes already attacked him again.

You were rushing to your husband’s side who was coughing up more and more blood while squirming in pain, his “Y- Y/- Y/n…” being interrupted by his coughs, though you were already dropping to your knees to hold him.

“It’s okay, Baby, I’m here. Everything’s gonna be okay! Don’t worry, everything will be okay!”, you cried and sobbed, tears already streaming down your face while pressing him against your side and one hand against his wound where the villain impaled him.

Bakugou knew though. It’s why he was clawing at your hand so much, both of them soaked with his blood that just wouldn’t stop – he knew he wasn’t going to be okay. As he almost couldn’t speak anymore, because his lungs filled with more and more blood, he still grasped your hands as tightly as he could, smearing his own blood all over your arm in an attempt to stay.

“Y/n-“, gasping for breath, he was almost completely over the bridge as his tight grip slowly softened.

“I love you, Baby. I love you so much! Katsuki please, don’t go!”, not being able to suppress your desperate sobs, you barely choked out a “Please.” again as his grip loosened more and more around your own hand.

“I … love… y..o…u…”, were his last words, a single tear trickling down his cheek as his ruby eyes lost that sparkle you fell in love with the very first time you looked into them.

“Katsu… No….Kat… Nononono please! PLEASE!”, literally begging him to not go, you hugged his bloody, heavy body so close against your chest while you cried, not caring about the explosions from further back into the streets as other heroes still fought against the villains, while rescue heroes only gradually managed to get through the wrecked buildings.

You shouldn’t even be here. Bakugou and you had been in two different agencies, it only should have been a calm day at your respective work places, wanting to be done quickly so you could enjoy your wedding anniversary tonight, but then, all available heroes were called up when the villain went on a rampage.

How…? How did it turn out like that? A harmless villain turned out to be so strong? How… could have anyone guess that? How could have anyone seen that coming?

So, it was true. Walking along a path where red spider lilies bloomed meant you wouldn’t see each other again…

Rescue heroes tried to calm you down and get you to let go of Katsuki’s lifeless body, but you just yelled at them, your voice high-pitched and so full of pain, and cried and held him tighter, not caring that you were full of his blood as you still couldn’t process that this wasn’t a dream, but it was reality… Harsh reality.

Your husband was dead.

And with that, your soul and heart shattered into million little pieces, unable to be whole ever again.

-------6 weeks later--------

You sat in front of Katsuki’s grave.

It was a cold spring night, though to be honest, you hadn’t been warm in the last weeks ever since that accident – the coldness you felt was never going to leave ever again.

Your fingers were softly playing your guitar. Making music had always brought peace to your husband’s mind, whenever he felt angry, frustrated, anxious or any other negative feeling, he would flop beside you and make you play the guitar for him. It calmed him and sometimes, you would both sing crookedly to get him back into a better mood – very fond memories indeed.

Tears were blurring your vision, even though you shouldn’t have been able to cry anymore with how many tears you had shed in the last weeks, but it still felt surreal. Knowing he was never going to come back again – never.

Slowly, your fingers stopped as you stared onto his gravestone. There were red spider lilies planted around – how ironic. Though they weren’t blooming as it was now spring.

Was is really just superstition? Or should you have been warned that day? That uneasy feeling you had felt - it wasn’t excitement, it was a sense of foreboding, and you had ignored it…

Putting your guitar, that had stickers with his hero name and your own, as well as stupid little things like a dick doodle on it, to the side, you sighed and rubbed your red, swollen eyes. You did have this guitar since your middle school days after all. And you remembered when all these things happened oh so vividly. Still hearing the giggle and laughter of your, back then in high school, boyfriend, while you yelled at him for being an idiot. Being angry over a dick doodle seemed so petty now.

Taking your permanent marker, you opened the cap with your teeth, before leaning in and doodling a broken heart onto the surface with the date of your husband’s dying day on it. Spitting out the lid of the marker, you put the pen onto your guitar, before staring back at Bakugou’s grave.

“Please tell me.. Who should be my soulmate now? Who will hold my hand while I drive? Who will hold me when I can’t sleep at night? There is nobody like you out there, Baby…. so please tell me…”, you were crying again as you sobbed and rubbed over your face, “Tell me, who could possibly take your place? My first and last love. I won’t be able to do anything without you…”

Your heart was hurting so much, you couldn’t take it. You knew he was irreplaceable, there was no one out there that could ever give you what he gave you all those past years.

Bakugou was sitting beside you, though you didn’t know – of course you didn’t, was he a mere spirit now, never leaving your side as his translucent hand touched your own.

“Please, you need to go on. Don’t do it…”, tears were in the corner of his eyes, wishing he could talk to you, wishing you could hear his desperate attempts to keep you from committing suicide. Katsuki loved you, he wanted to be with you, but he couldn’t be selfish anymore – you couldn’t throw everything away just because of him.

Though, as he was a mere ghost sitting beside you, he couldn’t do anything but watch.

With a shaking hand you then reached for the gun you had purchased today on the black market – to think, at last, you were doing illegal stuff even though you were a hero – before coming here and sitting in front of his grave for hours. You couldn’t possibly be alive without him beside you. It just hurt too much. You didn’t care about anything, you had no one besides him. Katsuki was your everything and all you wanted to do was finally meet him again.

Sobbing quietly, you then held the end of the gun against your temple, your e/c still staring at his gravestone, before you whispered one last time, “I want to meet you again. Please. I miss you so much.”

“I promise, I’ll be there.”, Katsuki whispered.

For the first time in weeks, there was warmth surrounding your heart and with a smile you barely mumbled “I know you’re waiting for me.”

And then, a loud bang echoed through the silent night and the cemetery, cherry blossom petals, that were in full bloom now, swaying in the wind and slowly falling down and onto your lifeless body.

“Y/n…Y/n…”, the familiar voice made you gradually open your eyes – above you, it was an ocean of pink and white cherry blossoms. But then, as you looked further back, you saw directly into Katsuki’s face, his smile making you feel so warm and fuzzy instantly. It was in that moment you realized your head was resting in his lap.

“Katsu…”

“You should have lived a long, happy life…”, his voice was so soothing and calm as he combed through your hair, though you just shook your head, tears already welling up in your eyes.

“I was already dead inside the moment you were gone.”, and then, you finally sat back up to connect your lips, Bakugou immediately slinging his arms around your neck and pulling you in closer as you both fell back into a pile of cherry blossoms.

“I love you. I love you so much. And now we’re together again.”, you whispered against his lips, lacing your fingers together and Katsuki squeezing your hand tightly, the sparkle in his ruby eyes back as tears shimmered in them as well.

“And we will never be apart again.”, he barely mumbled back, before you hugged each other tightly as your lips melted together tenderly.

Katsuki and you were sitting on the gravestone together, it was the day your lifeless body joined Katsuki’s in the shared grave. Watching your family and Katsuki’s once more crying so much, it really did break your heart.

“I wish they wouldn’t have to go through that again.”, he said and sighed, though also squeezing your hand tightly.

“Mh… But it was inevitable… I know they know that, too…”, since you and Mitsuki were quite close, she, of course, knew how badly Katsuki’s death affected you, even though she tried to help, the moment you were alone, you knew you couldn’t take the loss of someone so precious to you.

“Y/n… I know your pain was immense… I just hope you are both happy now wherever you are…”, Mitsuki quietly cried as she stood in front of the grave with your coffin in it, joining Katsuki’s, Masaru holding her close by his side, both of them a red spider lily in their hands that weren’t blooming.

Looking at each other for a moment, you both stood up from the gravestone and walked towards his parents, softly touching the flower, making them bloom in their hands.

“Let’s go. We are free now. Let’s see the world - together.”, Bakugou smiled and you chuckled and nodded, “Yeah.”, only to pull him closer and softly kiss him and whisper, “Together forever.”, which earned you Katsuki’s soft giggle and him pulling you closer to connect your lips once more.

Mitsuki and Masaru were both completely astonished when the red spider lilies in their hands started blooming, as if it was your answer to their question if you were both happy now, making Katsuki’s Mom smile and cry a little harder.

Though, once she looked ahead, she thought it was probably because she was sleep-deprived and in so much emotional pain, but… she saw you and Katsuki holding onto and smiling at each other. His mind must be playing tricks on her and yet, it was bittersweet to witness you two like that…

“They are happy…”, she wiped away her tears and with a smile on her lips, Mitsuki threw the blooming spider lilies into the grave eventually, knowing that her son and son-in-law were now happily dancing in the cherry blossom trees.

@salemwritesxx || do not repost, edit, modify or translate my works

writer’s note: ya boy literally chickened out the last minute and made it a somewhat happy ending instead of leaving it sad… idk i kind of just want them to find their happiness again in their afterlives 💌 my first idea was to make Y/n sing his heart out on like a roof and then jump, then I wanted him to sing his heart out in front of katsu’s grave and in the end, we just have some soft guitar play and a gun… but while I listen to the song I had playing on repeat while writing this, I still imagine Y/n singing loudly for his Baby and grieving terribly 💔

#salemswriting.#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x male reader #bnha x male reader #bakugou x you #bakugou angst

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johnkrrasinski · 4 years

Text

paralyzed;

full masterlist

Pairings: Dark!Steve Rogers x female!reader

Word count: 2,032

Warning: SMUT!!!! non-con, degradation, humilation, oral sex (male & female receiving), murder, mention of blood, kidnapping. (MUST BE 18+)

Summary: Steve Rogers broke into your house but not for your money.

a/n: i’m back on my dark!steve rogers bullshit.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

"You should be grateful." He stared down at your writhing form, with a knife in his hands that he had just wiped clean from the blood of her wimpy boyfriend. "I could've killed you too if I wanted to."

The tears of terror flowed from your eyes as you miserably attempted to free yourself out of the robes that were bounding you but to no avail. You wanted to scream for help as loud as you possibly could but all that could come out of your tapped lips were pathetic whimpers.

You wanted to run on your wobbly legs as fast as you could even if you knew you were going to stumble to the ground and scrape your knees and it would only make it so easy for him to catch you but at least you had that fleeting sense of freedom, an ephemeral glint of hope that you could actually save yourself from this psycho.

But it was hopeless. He was too strong. You stood no chance trying to outrun him, all it would lead you to was only in a worse scenario.

But hey, at least you are not dead yet.

Steve Rogers had been watching her and her pantywaist of a boyfriend for months now. Every day, he would sit in his RV for hours and he would park it across their house. He watched him leave to work every morning and she would peck him a kiss on the lips before he entered his car and drove away. He never understood what a girl as hot as her was doing with an average, tedious guy like him. She could do so much more. She should be with a man like him that could satisfy her in bed.

It started when she called for a plumber and the first time he saw her, he was instantly captivated by her beauty. "Fucking hell, she was gorgeous," he thought. She was only wearing a white tank top and booty shorts with a cardigan over her shoulders when he arrived. Her cleavage that was peeking through her shirt and her creamy thighs got him and jerking off at the thought of fucking her into the mattress that night. but he remembered the silver ring around her finger and the pictures of her wedding day in the living room, and he didn't like it. There was nothing that he hated more than what he couldn't have.

And so, a nefarious plan was forming in his head. he waited patiently for weeks, camouflaged himself in a baseball hat and hid in his RV. He observed her from afar, he learned her routines and broke into her house once when she left to the grocery store to memorize every corner and every room. He did it so neatly. He was ready, at another Friday night when it was nearing 12 am, after her husband came home and slumbering next to her, he snuck in through the back door with a dark mask covering his face and he tiptoed into the master bedroom.

He was as silent as a ninja that it was way too swift and a way to easy. He stood over the edge of their bed, he watched their peaceful states and he admired how divine she still looked even when she was deep asleep and the lights were out.

He walked to her husband's side of the bed and put his glove covered hand over his mouth and slit his throat. his eyes bulged as soon as he realized what was happening but he couldn't speak or scream, he could only thrash around until steve cut off his windpipe.

And in a matter of seconds, the schmuck was laying lifeless with his eyes wide open, the splash of his blood tainted his white sheets. He dragged the body off the bed to the floor and the thud woke her up.

It took her a few seconds to realize the gory calamity that was happening before her and before she could scream and run, he held her down on the bed and covered her nose with chloroform dipped handkerchief until she went unconscious.

That's how she woke up an hour later, bound and bare. her head was dizzy from what felt like hours of staying still in the same position now and the fear just kept rising and rising with every movement and noise he made. at least she was sure that he wasn't going to murder her just yet.

You had so many questions swirling in your brain, you began searching for the people you might have had done wrong or any suspicious behaviour that you might've had neglected... Not a single one had given you a valid answer.

"You must be wondering who am I and what do I want, huh?" he scoffed. "Don't worry. I'm not here to hurt you or for your money, I'm here for you."

You could feel the bed dipped with the weight of his arms behind you. He loved the view of your ass up in the air, face pressed to the blood tainted sheet and your limbs knotted with ropes. the things he was going to do to you...

"Remember when you called me to fix your sink a few months ago? Boy, you looked miserable as hell. knew it since the first moment I saw you that this guy doesn't have the guts to fuck your brains out. well... Didn't would be more appropriate." he smirked. "I met a lot of housewives and most of them practically begged for me to make them cum but, none of them was as sexy as you."

Gou could hear the clanking sounds of his belt being unfastened and him pulling down his pants and underwear just enough to spring his cock free. He pulled you down harshly to the edge of the bed, your skin burned against the friction.

You tried to push him away with your feet but he overpowered you by keeping you in place. "Don't fucking move, bitch. Or we are gonna do this the hard way, you want that?" You didn't fight back or resist by keeping quiet... not that you could do much anyway. "good."

He bent down his knees and dipped his head into your core, he licked a stripe over your entrance to your clit and lapped on your juices. He devoured you like a famished man and the squelching noises were deeply humiliating.

His beard unpleasantly tickled you and you knew he was gonna leave some beard burn later but that was your least concern right now. "Mmm, so fucking sweet, just like I imagined." He groaned at your taste, sending vibration to your core.

You moaned when two of his fingers intruded you and his thumb was circling your clit. Your body betrayed you by producing the wetness that you resisted. He curled his digits and brushed the spot that made you lose your mind. You sighed when he pumped in and out of you, scissoring your walls. “Look at you dripping all over my fingers. Can’t help it, can you? You need to be fucked hard by a real man so bad.”

The tears in your eyes had blurred your vision. His filthy words made you squirm. “Don’t worry, little slut. I’ll give you what your wimpy husband couldn’t.” He was amused by your reaction as he kept rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves. You mewled through your muffled mouth.

You felt your orgasm approaching, an unwanted eruption. But you were so close to the edge and when he moved in and out of your walls faster, you were pushed over the edge, making a mess all over your captor’s fingers. “That’s it. Go ahead, bitch. Show me what a dirty little slut you are.”

Your legs trembled and you were coming down from your high when Steve turned you around and now you were face to face with your captor. You wanted to curse this debauched man for ruining your life but all you could do was plead with your eyes to stop and let you go.

He stroked his cock and grazed it along your slit and milked it with your wetness before violating your body by pushing it to your entrance. “So fucking tight.” Steve began moving in and out of you, stretching you wide open with his cock. He began by pulling out until only the tip was in and impaled you deeply, jolting your entire body.

He repeated this motion and accelerated his pace. He kept his eyes on the way your breasts bouncing with every thrust. He untied the robe around your ankles and lifted them up onto his shoulders. You could feel him deeper than before and it hurt. “Take it bitch, take my cock like the fucking whore you are.”

Your visions were getting hazy by second. You were locked in your own body. All you could do was lay there and take it until he was done. He sped up, trying to chase his own release and the coil in your abdomen tightened. No, please no, not a second one. You spasmed and you exploded, this one was bigger than the last. Steve only chuckled at the sight while still ramming in and out of you vigorously.

“Fucking whore. Acting like you don’t like it but you’re so desperate to cum, huh? I’m gonna fucking wreck you.” Your walls clenched around him and Steve’s cock throbbed. He threw his head back and groaned and pulled out of you to dump his load all over your body, your breasts and your belly were covered in his thick, white cum.

You felt numb, you could only lay in an uncomfortable position with the robes digging into your skin with tears flowing from your eyes. You didn’t know if you could ever recover from this molestation if you were lucky enough for Steve to let you live… You’d be left with the pieces. At this point, you didn’t know if him ending your life would be a better or worse option. At least, you wouldn’t have to bury your husband or tell the police, your friends and family about what happened.

Just when you thought he was done, he turned you around so your head was hanging on the edge of your bed. “You didn’t think I’m done with you, yet, did you?” He stood tall above you, his face was like a demon creeping up in the dark, ready to pounce on you. “Please, just stop, please. I can’t- I can’t take it anymore.” You stammered through your ragged breaths. “Open your mouth.”

“Please, I’ll give you whatever you want, just, please, let me go.”

“Open your fucking mouth, bitch. Or I’ll do it for you.” He threatened.

You cried as you parted your lips slowly, but Steve was impatient. He propelled the tip into your mouth and he hit the back of your throat. You whined at the pain but the reverberation only aroused him even more. He gripped your breasts and used them as handles and fucked your face. “Gonna use you like the cockslut you are.”

He shut his eyes and grunted, profanities falling from his mouth. Tears were falling from the corner of your eyes and your gag reflexed. You could taste yourself around him. He pinched your nipples and you shrieked. “Suck my cock, slut.” He taunted. You swallowed around his shaft. It didn’t take long for him to drive his hips faster and he was ready to burst at any second.

He convulsed and drained his fluids down your throat. He stayed there for a few more seconds until he had no more drop to give and withdrew. You felt void, used and paralyzed. Your body wasn’t yours anymore and no matter how many showers you were going to take, there was no ridding his traces all over your skin.

“Let’s not waste any more time, yeah? We’re going to your new house. I’m gonna keep you as my personal sex slave. You’re gonna have a new life as my fucktoy and you’re gonna learn how to serve me. Get on your feet.”

#steve rogers au #steve rogers smut #steve rogers angst #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #dark!steve rogers au #dark!steve rogers smut #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x you #dark!steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers fanfic #dub con #non con

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thewildomega · 3 years

Text

Second Chance Final Chapter

Last Chapter! HAPPY BIRTHDAY POPS!

Hearing the lightest noise he moved his arm over to pull his wife back to his chest but when his appendage found nothing but the covers he snapped his eyes open. Looking to the spot she was supposed to be sleeping he saw nothing but an empty bed and then turned to his back as he realized what he had heard. Glancing to the window he saw it barely dawn and sighed. Sitting up and tossing the covers to the side he stood from the bed and made his way across the dimly lit room. Pushing open the bathroom door, steam moved out around him as he quietly walked over to the shower. Peeking around the stone wall he saw her standing there under the spray of the hot water. She had her back to him and hadn't seemed to notice him as she went about washing her hair. Allowing his eyes to follow the suds as they ran down her back and over her ass he licked his lips and felt his cock twitch. As quietly as he could he stepped into the shower behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle, holding her close to him as she let out a small yelp in surprise and flinched.

"God what is wrong with you? I swear I am going to hang a bell around your neck." you told him, hearing him chuckle.

"I should be the one asking what is wrong with you, waking up at the crack of dawn." he told her in a deep voice still laced with sleep.

"I guess I just got used to it with work." you shrugged.

Humming he leaned back some so she coudl finish rinsing her hair but rubbed his hands up and down her wet hips, giving a squeeze when his lust started growing. "Well you don't have to wake up to work anymore so how about you catch up on some missed years of sleep lass." Hearing her only hum that she wasn't tired in response he ran his hand over her hair as she finished rinsing it out. "Then I'll just have to fix that won't I?" Kissing her neck and shoulder he noticed the marks there from only a few days ago and grinned. Nipping at the sensitive spot she had he felt her flinch and smirked into the nape of her neck. Moving his hands back down to her hips he gave a firm squeeze.

You didn't get time to react before he was spinning you around and claiming your lips with his. Grabbing his shoulders to keep from falling as he backed you up into the shower wall you let your eyes slip close, the captain quick to dominate the kiss.

Rolling his tongue around her mouth he bent down to grab the back of both of her thighs, lifting her up so he could stand straight. The water was running down his face some and over his body but he couldn't give a damn. Pushing his hand up her thigh some so he could rub her slit he felt a slickness there and grinned into her mouth. As his finger slipped into her she moaned around his mouth. Pinning her against the wall he pumped his first one then two of his fingers in and out of her. His cock was already rock hard and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold back much longer but he was always sure about readying her. Kissing down her throat he nipped and sucked at her skin, feeling her fingers grip his shoulders and back a little harder. Lifting her up a little higher he felt her tense but when he took her nipple into his mouth her back was soon trying to arch off the wall. Sucking on her breast and working her sex with his fingers he soon felt her walls clenching around his digits. Smirking around her nipple as he listened to her cry out in bliss he let her pebble leave his mouth with a 'pop'. Lowering her down he pressed the head of his cock against her entrance and slowly impaled her on him.

Still not fully over your first orgasm you felt your toes curl as Ed lowered you onto his cock. Even after being married now for two months your body still wasn't used to the stretch that came with taking your soulmate. He never pushed you though, he was always patient, always asking if you were alright. Holding onto the thick muscles of his shoulders you turned your face to catch his lips as he moved to kiss you once again. Ever so slowly he started moving you, sometimes holding you to the wall so he could thrust his own hips.

Kissing her lips roughly he felt that pressure building in his lower pelvis and growled. Breaking the kiss he trailed his mouth down her chin and her throat to give attention there as he reached over to turn off the water. Holding her now with one hand gripping her ass and the other pushing up to hold her back he turned and started towards the bedroom.

You knew what he was doing, "Ed no. The bed is going to get all wet and ahh..." Tensing a bit when he bit a little harshly at your neck you felt him lick over it with the flat of his large tongue, soothing the pain.

" 't'll dry." he mumbled around her skin. Sucking marks into her neck and throat he laid her down on her back for a moment but didn't move onto the bed himself only leaned over her. Pulling out of her he kissed his way down her body, stopping to nip at both of her nipples before continuing on. Getting to the treasure between her thighs he licked his lips before diving in. Lapping up her slit he wasted no time before pushing his tongue into her. Swallowing down what she had to give him he flicked the tip over her clit and smirked when her body gave a flinch.

He held your hips still when they went to move, smacking your thigh and making you whimper as your second orgasm peaked. With your back arching as best it could you moaned your love's name in ecstasy until your voice was hoarse. After another climax that was more intense than the first your body fell to the bed. As his tongue lapped at you again you recoiled or at least you tried to but if the strongest man in the world didn't want you moving, you weren't going anywhere. Whimpering you tugged on his thick calloused fingers as his mouth continued it's assault on your now overstimulated pussy. "E...ed... pl...please. No...ah...nomoreplease...."

Grinning he gave one last long lap up her quivering cunt, kissing her pubic mound. Standing back to full height from where he had moved to kneel he rubbed her thighs, allowing his eyes to rake over her breathtaking form. Getting an idea he felt his painfully hard cock twitch. Licking his lips he pushed his hand under her lower back and gently moved her up to the middle of the bed before he flipped her over to lay on her front. This seemed to maker her tense some but he rubbed her back and down to her supple ass cheeks. "Ya trust me darlin'?" he asked and saw her nod. Humming he grinned softly and leaned down to kiss between her shoulder blades. Peppering the soft skin of her back with kisses he held himself up with one hand while the other pushed under her lower abdomen and lifted her up so she was on her knees with her top half still on the bed.

You stayed completely still as he moved you, focusing on his soft lips currently kissing your back. When you felt the tip of his member press against your pussy again your eyes fluttered close as he entered you. His cock was hitting all new spots from this angle and your eyes were quick to roll back behind your lids. It just felt so damn good and based on his deep groans and grunts you imagined it felt good to him as well. As soon as he was in his hand moved to grip your hip in what you knew had to be a bruising hold. As his hips pulled back and snapped back into your ass you couldn't stop the moan that left your lips.

Rocking his hips into her ass he closed his eyes as the pleasure got too great. She was tight to begin with but this position made it almost impossible to enter her. Adjusting himself to hold his body above hers with his forearm he was now directly over her own body and dipped his head to nip and kiss at her shoulder. It didn't take too long before he felt her walls fluttering around his shaft. "Gonna cum for me lass?" he asked, his voice deep and gravely. When she gave a soft whine he chuckled softly and kissed her neck. "Come on darlin' just one more time tonight." Dipping the hand on her hip under her, he stroked her swollen little bud with the pad of his middle finger. In no time at all she was crying out again, her walls constricting around him like a vice and sending him into his own climax.

You barely registered the deep groaning as it vibrated the area on your neck and shoulder. The pooling heat in your pelvis and the powerful grip he had on your body making your orgasm seem to last longer. Gripping the bedding so hard your knuckles turned white you trembled slightly as the both of your highs began to subside, a feeling of extreme fatigue hitting you. Unable to register much you gasped weakly as his cock slipped from you, your body flinching.

Knowing his wife was well past her limit he grinned softly as he helped lay her down on their bed. Kissing her hip he stood and moved to go clean himself up. Grabbing a rag he rung out the hot water from it and moved to clean her up as well. Seeing the river of white leaking from her made him want to go another round but he shook his head, no, she was done for now. Seeing her teeth chattering a bit he hurried back to toss the rag in the sink. Pulling the covers out from under her some he moved into bed beside her, cuddling up to her as close as possible. Wrapping them both up he felt the exhausted kiss to his throat followed by her groggily, half asleep 'love you'. Grinning he wrapped his arm around her and kissed her head, "Love you too lass now get some sleep."

..........................................

"Oww! Stop hitting the same place you big jerk." you snapped, rubbing the stinging area on your ass that he had now smacked several times with the blunt side of the wooden training sword.

"If you'd block it, it wouldn't hurt." Seeing her brows lower and her eyes cut at him he quickly blocked her next spur of swings. Going to tap her with sword again, this time across her side and stomach he watched as she turned to receive the blow across her ass yet again.

Arching your back some as the tender area was thrust into pain again you winced through your teeth. Having enough you let out a frustrated growl and chunked the sword to the ground.

Watching her throw down the sword and turn on heel to start walking away from him he dropped his arms, "You're never gonna learn if ya give up just because of a sore ass."

Deepening your frown at the annoyance in his words you continued walking. "I told you I didn't want to do this today."

"You've been making excuses all week Y/n. How do you expect me to make you into a decent pirate if..."

Spinning on heel you turned back to see he had been following you, "That's just the thing Ed. I never, not once said I wanted to be a pirate. In fact you didn't even ask me if it was something I wanted." you told him but saw his brow knit together. "A pirate's life isn't for everyone."

"Well maybe you should have thought about that before you married one." he grit out before he could stop himself, his own temper flaring up.

Dropping your shoulders you knit your brows and shook your head some, looking up at him. "I didn't think I would have to choose between Whitebeard and Edward." When he only continued looking down at you with a look he had never given you before you felt your rollercoaster emptions peaking again, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. Quickly looking down you let out a breath and turned back around, walking back towards home and knowing this time he wasn't behind you.

After grabbing the cloth bag from under the bed you let the house, needing some fresh air while also not wanting Ed to come in and see you crying your eyes out. For the past week now you had been super emotional. While you knew the cause of it all your husband didn't and you could tell your crazy emotions were starting to take a toll on his patience. It seemed as if every little thing set you off... and you hated it. After every little spat you would end up crying more simply because of how horrible you felt. There was one night this week when he had simply commented how the tea you had made him wasn't as strong as it normally was and you had instantly made a big deal out of it.

Flopping down under one of the trees that were a ways away from anything or anyone you let out a deep sigh, pulling out the ball of soft wool and needles. "You are making me seem like a bitch." you mumbled down to your belly. Looking over the small blanket to make sure none of it had came undone since you had worked on it some last night you felt your previous emotions dim as happiness and anxiousness took over.

You had just recently came to the conclusion that you were in fact pregnant, your period having been more than three weeks late before you caught on. Asking Zella about the whole situations as well some of the early symptoms you were having because you knew if Marco found out he would run to his father the both of you concluded that you were in fact with child. Your best friend was more than excited, telling you how fun it would be to have two babies running around close to the same age. It made you giggle when you thought of how all in all your baby would be considered Marco and Zella's uncle or aunt even though they would be a bit younger. As much as you wanted to hurry to Edward and tell him the great news you wanted a more special way of telling him as well as making sure everything went right for the first few weeks. So now that you were about two months or so, by your calculations... really there was no telling the exact date since your husband barley let you be but you guessed it was somewhere around that ball park. Also it just so happened that your dear husband's birthday was coming up, his 75th birthday to be exact you decided that would be the perfect time to tell him.

A blanket, a soft, small baby blanket was your way of telling him he was going to be a father. You had managed to get to the shops to buy the white and purple wool you needed without him knowing. All week you had been working on the blanket when he wasn't around, quickly hiding it under your bed when he would walk in. For having only ever started knitting when Zella showed you how to months ago you thought it was turning out pretty good. There was a few times you had had another emotional breakdown, crying like a baby yourself at the dropped stitch but after working on it for two and a half weeks now you were almost done. Just in time too seeing as his birthday was tomorrow.

Still there was so much you had left to do and that was the reason you hadn't been able to spend much time with him like you wanted. Although the whole sparring thing was because you didn't want something to happen to the baby. He was right about you making excuses all week but you just couldn't tell him yet. Hopefully once he saw what you had been doing all would be forgiven. Taking a deep breath you started working on the blanket once again. If you wanted to make his cake and have it ready by tomorrow you would need to finish this soon. Letting out a loud yawn you shook your head, "Sorry munchkin' sleep will have to wait just another day."

......................................

She had been gone all day. After calming down he had went back home to find her and finally talk about what had been going on but she wasn't there. Checking Marco's he found her not there either, Zella and the rest of his sons saying they hadn't seen her all day. Just where the hell was it she kept running off too. Seems like all week she had been avoiding him at all cost. Even at nights they would eat, well he would eat, she would scarf down her food like a starved man before quickly moving to take a shower without him. Then once he was done with his own shower he would come out and find her already passed out on the bed, looking completely exhausted.

Sighing he rubbed the back of his head. He had been thinking the past week and a half over, wondering if he had possibly done anything that would have angered her but he couldn't think of anything. She was just acting so strange, getting worked up over the littlest things. It was unlike her and it worried him constantly, not in the six months they had been married had they ever felt so far apart. Dropping his hand to his side he glanced back to their home and got an idea. He would make them supper, cook for her so when she came home from where ever she was they could just sit down and relax. Talk.

He had waited and waited, long after the sun had fell below the horizon but still she hadn't come back. The stir-fry he had made was now cold where his temper was now flaring. Growling loudly he stomped over to the door, deciding it was high time he went and found out what his little wife was hiding from him but before he could grab the handle the door was opening slowly.

Pushing open the door you covered a yawn and shook your head before running straight into something hard. Snapping your eyes open you looked up to see Ed there. "I'm sorry I didn't see yo..."

"Where the hell have you been?"

Hearing how deep his voice was made you flinch, anger clear in it. Apparently you didn't answer fast enough for him because he was soon asking you if you knew what time it was. Licking your lips you tried to keep your emotions under control. "I know, I didn't mean to be out so late, I fell asleep under a tree and then I had to go help Izo with something and..."

"Enough. I've had enough of your lies."

"Ed I'm not..."

"Not what? Avoiding me? Staying out past dark almost every night?" Seeing her go to try to speak again he cut her off, his eyes dropping to the bag she seemed to always be carrying. "And just what the hell is in that bag?"

Stiffening when he snatched the bag from you, you quickly grabbed ahold of it and tried to pull it back from him. "No. Ed stop it. Let go." Hitting his hand when he wouldn't release the bag.

Gritting his teeth he released the bag making her fall back on her ass. Looking down at her he watched as she held the bag close to her chest, refusing to meet his eyes. Huffing out he shook his head, "You know what just forget it. Keep your secrets, keep sneaking around and avoiding me. I don't know what is going on with you but I'm through trying to get you to open up to me. If there's another man then..."

"You think I'm being unfaithful to you?" you asked in shock, your voice coming out as nothing more than a whisper.

Seeing the tears rolling down her cheeks he felt a clenching in his heart and swallowed hard. "I don't know what to think." he spoke and watched her eyes drop back down. Closing his eyes he turned and started walking away. "I'm going to bed. Do whatever you want."

Hearing the bedroom door close you bit your lip to hold back your sob. Continuing to sit there for a time as your heart throbbed you sniffled and wiped your cheeks before standing. Walking to the kitchen you saw the table set, two untouched bowls of food sitting in you and Ed's place. Looking towards the bedroom you felt your heart clench again and swallowed hard as tears continued to roll down your cheeks. Placing the food he had cooked the two of you up in the fridge you cleaned up before grabbing everything you needed to start his cake. Yawning again you shook with leftover sobs but rubbed your eyes. There was no time for sleep, you would have to stay up all night if you were to finish his cake before tomorrow morning. Thankfully you had asked Izo and the others to take over cooking the actual food which they had quickly agreed to.

As you mixed the batter and poured it into the pans you thought on everything Ed had said and felt your heart continue to ache. You couldn't blame him, if the roles were reversed you wouldn't be able to help but think something was going on as well but it hurt to know he thought you may be having an affair. Did he think so little of you? You were starting to rethink this whole idea, as much as you wanted to surprise your love this seemed to be taking a toll on your marriage. Hopefully though he would understand tomorrow.

As the sun started to rise you could barely keep your eyes open. The two tier cake was iced and decorated, one layer being chocolate and the other your own creation of a sake cake. You had the blanket finished, folded neatly and wrapped in a box you had tied a big blue bow around. Wanting to do a bit more for him you had even made him those couple coupons you had heard Trish talking about she had made her husband for Valentines day once. Binding the little heart shaped paper with the same blue ribbon you placed it on the top of the box holding the blanket and put them in the closet on top of the washer, knowing he wouldn't be likely to see them there. Taking the cake over to Zella and Marco's until the party you hurried back over to cook him breakfast before he woke. Two eggs, heart shaped pancakes, bacon, toast and even some hash. Placing it on the table you grinned as you fixed his tea and set it down perfectly beside his plate and silverware. Getting out the butter and syrup you heard the door to the bedroom open and looked up with a smile. "Good morning Capta..."

"Mornin'."

That was all he said as he walked out the door without even looking your way. The smile on your face instantly fell and you felt your lip begin to tremble. Looking down to the birthday breakfast you had made him you watched a tear fall to the table. Maybe he just had something to do and then he would come back. That was what you kept telling yourself but as another hour came you knew he wasn't coming back and wrapped up his plate before placing it in the fridge. Cleaning up the house you let out a sigh as you left to go decorate the place where you all were throwing the party at.

................................

As the day drew on you hadn't seen Ed once which was on one hand good because that meant that he still didn't know what you were doing hopefully. On the other hand though you hadn't seen your husband all day... and right after a fight too. After much hard work the party was ready to start. You and his sons had decorated the same place where your wedding had been. There was a pile of wood and such ready to be lit for a bonfire, the food was ready along with the cake and you had even managed to bring his present here. Everything just looked so perfect, all your hard work well worth it. You just couldn't wait to see the look on his face. Smiling you looked to Zella and the others who all were just setting up the tables and chairs. "I'm going to go see what Ed's doing." you told Zella and saw her nod.

"Okay. I'd say about another thirty minutes and everything will be ready."

Nodding you smiled down at your heavily pregnant friend. "Thank you so much for all your help Zella."

"Of coarse, what is family for if not to be there for one another." she smiled.

Looking down when your chest flooded with warmth you gave her another smile before you went to go fetch your soulmate. Checking the house and then town you didn't see him anywhere and furrowed your brows.

"If your looking for Edward dear I saw him earlier going down to the pier with a fishing pole earlier."

Thanking Mr. Xander you headed down to the fishing pier. Seeing the man that held your heart sitting on the end with his legs dangling over the edge you smiled to yourself and walked towards him. Wrapping your arms around his neck from behind you leaned around to kiss his cheek. "There you are. I've been looking for you." you said but he didn't even look at you and your only response was a grunt. Furrowing your brows you licked your lips. "Catch anything?" you asked him but he didn't respond. Blinking you moved to sit beside him. Hearing him sigh you felt a slight throb in your chest, was it you or him you were feeling? Continuing to sit there for a while, neither of you saying a word you looked out over the water that was as smooth as glass. Wringing your fingers you glanced up to him but saw him still paying you no mind. "Ed..."

"Why are you here?"

A little stunned you took a moment to answer. "I... I just wanted to hang out with you... fish together."

"Oh so we can spend time together but only when it's convenient for you."

Blinking away tears you stared down at the water. "It's not like that..."

"Isn't it?" Feeling that clenching in his chest again he stood.

"You're leaving?" you asked in a quiet voice.

"Now you know how it feels." When she didn't reply or even look at him he tilted his jaw. "Here you want to fish, fish." he spoke, all but shoving the rod into her hands.

You could only sit there as he walked away. Holding his pole just enough to keep it from falling into the water your shoulders shook with sobs and tears rolled down your cheeks. You hated this. You should have just told him from the start, hell you should have told him right then but the party was so close and you wanted him to be surprised, you wanted to do something nice for him. Now though none of it seemed worth it, you wouldn't even be able to see his reaction. While yes you could probably still go you wouldn't, all of this was for him, you wanted him to be happy and as it looked right now his happiness didn't seem to include you.

Watching the sun go down on the water you closed your puffy eyes when you heard the loud group of pirates yell out 'surprise'. Feeling a strong clenching in your heart you sighed out long and deep. "Happy Birthday Ed." you mumbled. Siting there for a few moments longer you reeled in the line, picking off the bit of seaweed stuck on the hook before pining it up neatly and standing. With a heavy heart you started your walk back home, seeing the smoke rising into the sky from the bonfire. Leaning the fishing rod against the side of the house you moved inside and closed the door. All in all it was probably a good thing you didn't go, with the lack of sleep, food and with not showering since the day before yesterday you weren't really up for partying. Removing your shoes you walked to the master bathroom and closed the door. Once you had taken a most likely too hot shower you slipped on one of his shirts and a pair of panites, sniffing the material and feeling your eyes fill with tears once again as you crawled into the empty bed. Putting in your earbuds you turned on the music and closed your eyes, the long breath you breathed out shaky and deep.

...................................

The party had been going on for a little over an hour now and she didn't see her friend anywhere. At first she thought that she was coming with Pops and Marco but that wasn't the case as both men had showed up without her. Getting caught up with everything for a while she figured Y/n had just been standing at a different place or she had moved to get something but now she was sure she wasn't here. Everyone was eating and drinking now, having a good time, something Y/n should be doing since she was the person responsible for all of this. Marco had told her that Pops had always blew off his birthday, that yes they would drink and eat a little more but nothing like this. Y/n had done everything she coudl think of to make her husband's special day one to remember. To know that she was now missing it made her knit her brows in worry.

"What's wrong dear?" Marco asked as he brought over another plate of food for his pregnant wife.

"Do you know where Y/n is?" she asked.

Looking around he tried to peek behind all of the guests to see if he saw his father's love but alas he didn't . "Maybe she left to go get something."

Shaking her head she looked back to her husband. "I haven't seen her since before the party started."

"She wasn't here when I brought Pops here?" he asked and saw her shake her head. Blinking he placed down their plates. "I thought she was already here waiting that's why I brought him." Don't tell him that they had started the party when she wasn't even here to see the big man be surprised. Quickly scanning the large group of people yet again he didn't see his all in all mother's face and frowned. Snapping his eyes to the birthday man himself he saw him sitting in his chair alone, drinking and eating. He had known the man since he was a child himself and so he coudl tell something was wrong, a forced smile on his face. His father and Y/n were normally not too far from one another so seeing him like this and her no where in sight told him that something bad had happened.

"Do either of you know where Y/n is?" Vista asked his brother and sister in Law as he walked over.

"She's not here."

"What do you mean she's not here."

Hearing her husband go to talk with Vista and Jozu who had also walked over Zella stood when she noticed Pops lifting the wrapped box that set beside his chair. Knowing what was in that box the due any day woman stood and hurried over to the massive man. "No, Pops you can't open that yet."

Lifting his eyes from the box he had been looking at he saw his daughter moving towards him a little too fast. Quickly catching her carefully as she almost tripped he stood her back up carefully, Marco hurrying over. "Now Zella you shouldn't be rushing around like that..."

"Zella are you alr..."

"I'm fine." she quickly told her husband, holding her belly as she lifted her eyes back to Whitebeard. "You can't open that gift yet, not without Y/n here."

Seeing his father tense up at the name of his wife Marco knit his brows some. "Pops where is Y/n?"

"No tellin'." he huffed before he took a long drink from the bottle of sake. Setting the bottle down he moved to remove the paper from the box when Zella grabbed his hand with her small one.

"Pops please. I don't know why she isn't here now but you can't open this, not after she worked so hard on all of this." Zella told him with pleading eyes.

"What do you mean on all of this?"

"Pops, Y/n is the one that planned all of this, she's the one that wanted to throw you a surprise party." Marco told him in a deep voice.

"She made all the plans, she made the cake, she helped cook, she helped decorate, all of this was her. All week she's been making sure everything was perfect." Jozu spoke.

Knitting his brows he looked over all their faces and then it all sunk in and he felt nothing but a God awful guilt take over his heart. Without a word he stood and went to search for his wife, box in hand. All those things he had assumed, all those things he had said. "You fucking asshole." he cursed himself as he walked to the pier where he had left her all alone at. "Crying at that, don't forget, you left your crying wife all alone, worthless bastard." he grit out. Even though she wouldn't look up at him he had knew. A Surprise birthday party, that's what she had been doing. She wasn't avoiding him, she wasn't seeing another man... God why, why in the hell had he ever said that to her. He knew he had hurt her feelings, he could feel it but still he had continued to take his own hurt and anger out on her.

Getting to the pier he saw it empty and frowned. She wasn't here. Using their connection he was led back to their home and in the light of the moon he saw his fishing rod leaned up against the house. There weren't any lights on but her shoes were here. Quietly walking into their bedroom he saw a small lump under the covers a light glowing from her phone laying beside her. Moving to the bedside he leaned over to see her eyes closed, he coudl tell by the slow breathing that she was sleeping but a leftover sob shook her some. Feeling his heat clench painfully, he lit the candle on the bedside table before he set the box on the foot of the bed. Slowly he set down behind her curled up form. The movement must have woken her some because he saw her eyes snap open before hanging low over her eyes.

Glancing behind you, you saw him here and moved to take out your earbuds. Hoping you didn't look too terrible you wiped at your cheeks anyway, just incase. "Y... you're home." you spoke in a soft voice. Pushing yourself up to sit you kept the blanket over your legs and noticed the wrapped gift on the foot of the bed. "What time is it? The party isn't over yet is it?" you asked, grabbing your phone to check the time.

Taking her smaller hand in his large one he looked down and swallowed hard, "Lass I... I don' t know how to describe how truly sorry I am. I acted like such an asshole to you and you didn't do anything."

Looking down you Gave a sad grin, "It's okay. I'm sure it did look pretty bad and I... well I know I've been acting bitchy here lately and..."

"No you..."

"Ed, babe, it's alright. I know I have." You said and gave him an actual small grin.

"That doesn't excuse what I said to you, what I assumed." he said with a shake of his head.

You were quiet for a time before you lifted your eyes to his, "You know I would never do that, that there would never be anyone else, don't you?"

"Yes. Yes darlin' I know that. I was just... you were always leaving and..."

"I know, I'm sorry. Was it all worth it though? Were you surprised?" you asked.

Seeing her kind grin he sighed and smiled. "Yes lass. Thank you. I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you."

"Aw don't say that, you deserve so much more." you told him, moving forward to hug him which he quickly returned.

"I love you lass and I'm so sorry." he spoke into her neck, closing his eyes as he fully embraced her.

Humming you soaked up his warmth and scent. "I love you too Ed. No more apologizing, it's your birthday so you get a free pass." you told him and heard him chuckle softly. Blinking you smiled and bit your lip. "Speaking of..." Leaning back you grabbed the box and moved it to his lap. "Happy Birthday my dear husband."

Looking down at the box he sighed and looked back to her to see her smiling. "Are you sure I deserve a gift?"

"Edward Newgate you open that box or I will throw you in to the ocean." you threatened and heard him laugh.

Nodding he moved to start ripping the paper, "Yes ma'am." Removing the bow and then paper he pulled off the top and lifted the heart shaped paper. Seeing the words couple coupons on top he rose his brows. Flipping through them he smiled more and more at the different things written. "Free foot rub, Sensual Massage, My choice of dessert.... " on and on they went and as he got to the more sexual ones he felt his brows raise and his cheeks heat up, a large smile on his face. Humming he glanced over to her to see her blushing beet red as well and chuckled. "I have to say lass this may be the best gift I have ever gotten." he told her and saw her smile but look down.

Taking the coupon book you set it on the bed next to your knee. "Okay you big perv now the other half." you said with a nod down to the folded blanket in the box.

Grinning he looked down to the box again and saw something he could tell was knitted. "Hmm and what do we have here, socks... a scarf?"

"You don't even wear a shirt why would I make you a scarf."

"I'd wear a scarf if you made me one darlin'." he told her and saw her smile. Lifting the item up he saw it was a square, a blanket it looked like but the thing was much too small to fit him. Seeing something on it he held it up so he coudl look the whole thing over. He recognized his jolly roger first but there was also words. "Future Captain in Training" he read aloud. Blinking he furrowed his brows and read over the words another time before the size of the blanket again ran through his mind. Snapping his eyes to her he saw her looking at him with the softest smile he had ever seen. As it all sunk in he felt his mouth go dry and his breath catch in his throat. "Y..you're..." he couldn't even finish his sentence, his heart hammering in his chest.

Licking your lips you felt more tears fill your eyes and smiled. "One down, four to go."

In an instant he had her in his arms, standing and spinning around the room. Feeling his own eyes tear up some he laughed. Lifting her up above his head he kissed over her belly where his child grew. HIS CHILD. He was going to be a father, a real father. "Ohhh." clearing his throat he smiled so large his face hurt, "I lied lass, This, this is the best gift I have ever gotten." he spoke in a thick voice. Easing her down he held her close and kissed her lips with all the love he felt. "Thank you darling. Thank you so very much."

Hugging him as he carried you across the hills back towards the party you felt all the heartache over the past few days leave you.

"There she is."

"Pops found her."

"Good now we can all start drinking again."

"Now all you wait one second. I want to show everyone what it s my lass gave me... Seems like there is something else we need to be celebrating." He told them all and saw some confused faces looking their way, he did note however that Zella was smiling largely. So she knew, figures. "Want to help me out here some darlin'."

Nodding you leaned up and smiled as you helped Ed hold up the blanket for everyone to see. A few seconds later the whole island erupted into loud cheers and clapping. Smiling you looked to see Ed smiling ear to ear.

Meeting his wife's eyes he pulled her into another kiss, the rest of their friends and family continuing to yell and cheer around them. Breaking the kiss he laid his forehead on hers. "I'll love you forever lass."

"mmm Promise?" you smiled lovingly, twirling his hair around your finger.

Kissing her forehead he sighed. "Cross my heart."

"I love you too old man. Forever." you smiled, pulling him into another kiss.

A/n: Well that's it. Posted on the big man's birthday too. I hope you everyone enjoyed it. I know I did. Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think.

#Whitebeard #Whitebeard pirates #young whitebeard #whitebeard one piece #whitebeard x reader #edward newgate #edward newgate x reader #young edward newgate #shirohige #One Piece Fanfiction #soulmate #soulmate au

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xwing-baby · 3 years

Text

The Guide: Chapter 1/? (Ezra x f!Reader)

gif from @spectroscopes

word count: 5.2k

chapter warnings: reluctant saviour to lovers, injury to reader, one mention of rape, little angst, world building :)

summary: The Guide to Everything Ever is expanding, you are sent out to the furthest reaches of Nowhere to catalogue the planets there. What should have been a quick research mission quickly turns to disaster when you crash on a small forest moon. Injured, with no means of communication, you have to rely on the good will of a mysterious stranger...

a/n: first ever Ezra fic lets gooo!! i am super hyped for this i hope you all enjoy it as much as i do <3

masterlist // asks are always open :)

While The Guide to Everything Ever did cover everything ever, it was a little misleading in the boundaries of everything. History was no issue, there was even a large section of the book on prophecy, millions of consequences mapped out on a fold out flow chart. No, the issue was with physical boundaries of everything.

A long time ago the boundaries of the civilised universe were drawn up. From Eden to Xion-5, trillions of stars and quadrillions of planets all included inside the red line separating us from the somehow even more vast expanse of Nothing. There was nothing in Nothing, that much was well known. That was until a group of explorers did what explorers do and found Something. Something in Nothing makes Nothing impossible so the leaders of this great universe came together and decided The Guide to Everything Ever had to include this new Something in their Everything.

That is where you come in.

The Guide to Everything Ever has always relied on first-hand experience. The first edition was a disaster. It only contained the things everybody knew: how to fold a bedsheet and how to get your dog to not hump the postman. The only vaguely interesting part of the Guide was the planetary comments. Even those could send the most interested scientist to sleep! They tried using robots for the first edition, a mere collection of data from far away planets. This was not successful and The Guide only sold four copies.

The next edition was more ambitious. The editors worked out people were a lot more interested in different planets than they were in barbarian fortifications but they did not want to read reams of boring data from a robot called Steve. They wanted a real Steve to give his experience on these new planets. Honest, often humorous, and yet entirely educational extracts of missions across the stars. It didn’t matter that space travel was accessible to everyone. It saved everyone a lot of time waiting in those cold and boring shuttles to get from one side of the universe to another. They could sit in the comfort of their own homes and learn about the man-sized carnivorous plants of Ereta, the beautiful fabrics created on Lii, or which drinks to avoid if you ever find yourself in a Beetjing bar.

The Guide was a success from that point onwards and expanded each year. Soon the job of researcher became a coveted occupation. You were lucky to get into the academy. Only ten new researchers were added each century. You worked your entire life to get in and it paid off, you were off on your first mission into the furthest reaches of Nothing to report back on the wild ‘verse that filled it.

A long time ago space travel was thought of as the most exciting thing anyone could ever do. It was for a few decades but two centuries later it was commonplace. A lot like the London Underground, you just stuck your headphones on and let that distract you until you reached your far more interesting destination.

For your trip you had chosen to watch Anzarch Hospital. A rather cheesy Martian holovid show, it had been going for years. You were on season 85, with only ten episodes left until you were entirely caught up ready for the season finale which was due to air when you returned from this trip. You would rather be at home watching the episodes but this trip to the end of the line was necessary. It wouldn’t take long, a few rotations at least and then you could go to Annie’s party and watch everyone’s favourite doctor finally find out who killed her robot nurse wife.

Nobody ever said Martian holovids were high class, but they were fun.

The computer interrupted your binge, alerting you with a ding that you were within range of your destination and would be stepping out of hyperspace. You pressed a few buttons, accepted the action, and went back to the episode.

It wasn’t until a few moments later when the lower pitch dong did not sound to let you know you had dropped out. Confused, you switched off the holovid and moved back to the cockpit. It was a new ship, it shouldn't have hyperdrive issues yet. But well versed as you were with glitchy hyperdrives you knew what to do. You pressed some buttons, pulled a lever, dragged the ship out of autopilot and twisted one final knob to drop out safely and without panic.

Your routine was correct. The ship dropped out of hyperspace but as the darkness cleared so did any sense of calm. You were already in the thermosphere, hurtling down to the forest covered grounds at electric speeds. Alarms blared as soon as the devices registered the new atmosphere and severe lack of control.

“Please slow down, your destination is ahead at 750 km,” The computer said cheerfully.

“Stupid thing! You’re going to kill me!” You yelled over the alarms.

“That’s not very nice,” The computer replied, “It’s not my fault the hyperdrive isn’t working,”

“You knew?” You shouted. The sides of the ship rumbled and rattled as the change in air density dragged along the surface. The holoprojector vibrated off the table, crashing to the ground and smashing into pieces. There goes all your holovid downloads, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Destination in 400km,” Every minute of your training was coming back as you worked through every combination of buttons and levers on your dash. Nothing was working.

“Computer? Is there still a parachute in this model?” It was archaic but you prayed that your ship was old enough to still be fitted with one. If it, wasn’t you were never going to slow down fast enough?

“Yes, would you like me to deploy it?” The computer asked.

“Yes!” You shouted at the machine.

“Deploying parachute,”

The parachute erupted from the back of the ship with a loud hiss and pop as it opened into the air. The sudden draw backward lurched you forward, smacking your head onto the metal dash in front of you.

You groaned, holding your hand to the injury immediately. A good splattering of blood now set across the screen and was dripping down your face into your eyes.

“Destiable approach im one minu,” The computer said. You frowned, trying to concrete over the throbbing pain in your head. “Systeeee affectabed,”

“Please tell me I’m not having a stroke,” You pleaded. You were not. You could speak and understand language perfectly. The computer, however, was not okay.

Computers are all well and good, very helpful things to have around that is until their processors are catapulted out by a poorly fitted fabric parachute.

You didn’t have time to worry about the broken computer as the trees below were coming closer and closer.

“Fourteenth millennia remaaaa,” The computer slurred. You ignored it. You didn’t need a reminder of how closer to being impaled by a huge tree you were. Instead of panicking you did the only thing you could, strap in and hope that it was all over quickly.

You pulled the straps of the pilot’s seat down tight over your arms, gripped the armrest tight and shut your eyes. The ship whistled through the air, the drag of the parachute doing very little to slow it down. You screwed your eyes shut, cursing every god you have ever known at your terrible luck. You would never see your family again, never see your friends again, and even more importantly you would never find out who killed the nurse in Anzarch Hospital!

The first contact with forest sent the ship off its course, spinning wildly out of control as the craft hit branch after branch. You screamed as the ship tumbled to the ground.

Finally, you came to a stop. Upside down, hanging from a tree, your ship rocked from side to side. You groaned, aching all over from the rough treatment of your descent. You spat out the blood that had pooled in your mouth and tried to think of a plan. Much like the now dead computer you couldn’t really think in words. More drawled sentences drowned out by pain.

The smell of fuel was the thing to get you moving. You gently unbuckled yourself from the seat, careful to not drop yourself on the ceiling and injure yourself anymore. You climbed around the small circular pod to reach the door.

Inhospitable atmosphere. Air unfit for external respiration, respirator advised.

You grumbled and cursed as that warning meant you’d have to climb up the wall of the still swaying pod to reach your kit. It was heavy and difficult to put on at the best of times, this was quite possibly the worst of times.

With a sharp tug the suit and helmet fell out of the cupboard above your head, narrowly missing you as it fell. Carefully, so as not to trip on the steel beams of the ceiling at your feet or cause the ship to swing and fall any further, you pulled the suit on. It was soft, having never been worn before, lightweight and fit you well. The helmet was heavy, a seal at the bottom to prevent any toxins leaking in and the filter was attached to the back of the dome. It was not ideal but you hoped you could find civilization quickly and would be able to take it off fast.

Helmet on. Bag on. Boots tied. Out the door.

In the small amount of luck, you still held, the ship was only six feet above the ground. You sat on the top of the door and jumped out, landing gracefully on your feet in a large patch of unusual plants. The air filter quietly hummed as it set to work cleaning the air around you and you inspected your surroundings. That was where your luck ran out, as you gathered yourself together you looked to your wrist, to the screen of your watch to look at a map to discover the direction you should go, only to find it smashed beyond repair. You had no guidance.

Dark forest was all you could see in any direction. The canopy was so dense only a small sprinkle of light made its way to the floor. Bouncing off the particles in the air, the space around you glittered in the light. It was silent, only the wind rustling through the grass and twigs under your boots made any noise. You picked a direction and walked, hoping you would come across someone soon.

You found a single well-trodden path after an hour of walking through waist high grass, the pollen of which had now covered your suit in a green blue film that made your hands itch terribly when you touched it, bringing up red rashes almost immediately.

The path made its way through the trees, more light coming through as you made it to the edge of the forest. You couldn’t make out much beyond the break in the trees as the contrast between the darker interior showed the outside in white light. You smiled; open space probably meant civilisation!

As you approached the light your eyes began to strain. Sharp pain cut into your eyes, you groaned and squinted bringing your hands to your helmet to cover them automatically. It was no use as a migraine was quickly taking hold. You continued forward, finally breaking the tree line, feeling the heat of the sun through the thin fabric of your suit.

Then everything went black

“What a curious creature,” A low voice woke you. Slowly you gained consciousness, immediately aware of the throbbing pain throughout your body, you pushed to sit up only to feel a heavy weight on your shoulder, “Careful now,” The stranger warned you. You peeled your eyes open and looked up at the creature that spoke. Dome headed in a yellowed fabric suit, Light reflecting off his head obscured his face. The creature spoke kindly and you would have believed the tone too if it weren’t for the pressure of his foot on your forearm and gun in your face. “What’s a thing like you doing in these parts?”

“I-I’m injured,” You tried to speak confidently but your pain overtook your tone as you opened your mouth, “My ship crashed not far from here,”

“Curiouser and curiouser,” The creature mused.

“Please,” You choked out as darkness threatened your vision once more, “Help me,”

The creature frowned, contemplating his decision as if he were choosing a candy bar at a corner store. You tried to move from under him but the effort was too much and you fell into unconsciousness again.

As your eyes closed and breathing softened, the stranger released his foot from your shoulder. His boot left a muddy footprint on the white material that covered your arm. He watched you for a few more seconds, then presuming you were dead he stepped over your body to the blue rucksack that had fallen just behind you. He was in desperate need of medical supplies and clean clothes wouldn’t hurt either.

The stranger rooted through the rucksack, pulling all kinds of things out. Clothes and food, writing equipment and a flip up device that he did not recognise as anything useful. There were no weapons, and no survival equipment of any kind. You were packed for a Sunday stroll, not a trip to the Green. Whoever you were, you were not like the usual people who came here.

The stranger’s cool demeanour changed when he saw your identification card. A gold card, approximately the size of his palm fell out of the bag and into his lap with a soft tap. He picked it up and inspected it, instantly knowing he was screwed. The Guide’s golden emblem was easy to recognise, while he couldn’t read the language that inscribed the card, he could make assumptions. You were a researcher. It was a well-known fact that Guide researchers were protected. If anyone found out you were dead, he would be convicted no matter what he said. There would be no planet in the entire universe he could hide on from the Guide.

Begrudgingly, he had to save you.

Without any other option, he shoved the contents of your bag back inside its original case and threw it over his shoulder. Then came the difficult task of moving you. It wasn’t for lack of strength that the stranger had difficulty with this task, more to do with the fact he had only one arm. He knew it wasn’t far to his camp, he had only been walking for five minutes before you fell into his path.

He couldn’t carry you. With only one arm it didn’t matter how strong the man was he could never hold you up well enough. He tried to wake you first, it would be far more helpful to him if you could walk. He shook your shoulders to try and rouse you but you were out cold. He had no choice but to drag you.

A quick assessment of your body told him you were not injured too badly, apart from the sores developing on your hands from exposure to pollen and a wound on your forehead inside your helmet. He checked your pulse again, feeling it strong through his gloves he was happy that you were not dead and would not be wasting his time. He grabbed the fabric around your shoulders and pulled you back to his camp.

It took a while but he made it there safely without cracking your helmet or injuring you anymore. He set you down on the floor of his tent, pulled his helmet off for comfort, then got to setting up a recovery bed for you.

The stranger pulled a rolled-up mat from under his cot and placed it on the ground and finally rolled your body in its final place on top and he waited for you to wake up again. It wouldn’t take long, he heard you mutter something as he carried you back and even in the low light of his tent, he could see your eyes moving behind your eyelids. The stranger sat on the edge of his cot, watching you carefully with his weapon in hand in case you woke up violent.

After a few moments, you began to stir. The first thing you noticed as you gained consciousness was the pain in your body. Every inch of your body throbbed but nothing more than your head. You felt hard ground beneath you, but no leaves or dirt, it was cold to touch. You peeled your eyes open, met with a low orange light bouncing off dark tent like material.

“Do not be alarmed,” A man said from across the room. You immediately turned your head to see but saw nothing more than a dark blob, “You are safe,”

You found it very hard not to be alarmed. The last thing you remembered was getting out of your ship into a forest, now you were in a small dark tent lit by one single golden lightbulb with a strange blob sat across from you.

Carefully, you pushed yourself up to sit up from your position on the floor. Noticing the blob was more of a man, and without a helmet, you figured it was probably safe to remove yours. With a sharp tug and a hiss from the oxygen tank you were open to the air and you set the helmet down next you. You rubbed your hand across the back of your neck, screwing your eyes shut as a headache shot through your skull.

You studied the man in the soft light. You could not guess his age, simultaneously old and young, you guessed he was a little older than you. He had tanned skin and dark hair with a curious white, blonde streak in the front. A surprisingly well-kept moustache and a spattered beard covered his lower face and a white scar on his left cheek all together created an intriguing character.

“Are you comfortable?” He asked. You nodded. His kindness was unsettling. There was a gentle tone to his voice and a kindness in his eyes but everything outside of that was the complete opposite. You could not remember how you got here; all you knew was the pain your body was in. Had he attacked you? Had he saved you from something else? He could have killed you, but he didn’t. Something must have enticed him to save you and bring you here. Then you saw it.

In the stranger’s hand, he held a gold card. Your identification card. The golden emblem projecting from the card flickered in the poor light, showing your name and number and rank.

“Should I be asking for an autograph?” The stranger looked back up at you, a smirk on his lips, “I’ve always wanted to meet an author,”

“I-I am not an author,” You coughed, clearing your throat before speaking, “I’m a researcher,”

“You pen those books though, don't you? The Guide?” He asked, “There’s not that much literature being produced this day and age,”

“Technically, but we like to think it’s a team effort,” You shrugged, “I just collect the data and write preliminary reports,”

“Does your team know you’re lost here?” The stranger asked.

“No, I… I don’t know,” You said sadly. The computer had broken before you could send a distress call. With no way to get a message to them from the outer ‘verse it would take weeks for anyone to realise anything was wrong, “I would have to find a signal strong enough to send a distress message but the only way I could do that was with my ship,” You thought aloud. You paused for a moment, trying to remember what actually happened when you fell from the sky, “Where is my ship? Where are we?”

“I never saw your transport I’m afraid,” The stranger said, “You must have walked a considerable distance before crossing paths with me,” You frowned, without your ship you were stuck, “I brought your backpack, if that's of any aid to you,”

You immediately lit up. Taking that as a yes, the stranger reached over the cot and pulled up your rucksack. It was caked in mud and a lot less full than you know it should have been, but you ignored his looting and grabbed the bag from his hands.

The only things left inside were your underwear and a hygiene kit. Your stomach twisted at the thought that you had lost the most important item in the bag. Dumping the contents on the floor you searched through every pocket. The Stranger watched you, one brow raised, wondering what you were looking for.

“Did you take it?” You asked, “It won’t work for anyone but me, you might as well give it back,”

“I do not understand,” The stranger looked puzzled, looking down at the things on the floor to see what had upset you.

“My Guide, where is it? I don’t care about the other things, I need that back,”

“There were no books in there,”

“That is Federation property,”

“You’re going to have to explain what it is you’re so agitated about; I do not know what your Guide is,”

“You do, because you stole it!” You exclaimed. Raising your voice made your head hurt more, you flinched and screwed your eyes shut again.

“I am many things but I am not a thief,” The Stranger was offended by your accusation. You scowled at him. He was a liar and a thief, “I took the food from your bag as payment for my saving you,”

“The Guide uses my biometrics, it won’t be of any use to you or anyone you could sell it to,”

“Hold on, do you mean the flip device?”

“Yes!”

“That thing’s important?” He seemed genuinely surprised, “You can have it, it’s no use to me,”

The stranger stood up and walked the two steps to the other side of the small space. From a cluttered table he picked up the black computer. You sighed in relief, there could be some hope for you yet. He passed you the gadget which to your amazement was still in working order. It had got a little scratched in the crash but you pressed your thumb to the lock and it opened it instantly.

Every researcher had their own personal guide. Similar to an ancient flip phone, used commonly on Earth in the early 2000’s, each Guide was a little bigger than your palm. Though small, it was very mighty. Not only did it store every piece of information a researcher collected, but it also allowed communication through text, audio and holo. Through the System there was unlimited access to other researchers' files, yet unpublished information and access to the ‘verse's existing records. There were maps and history of every planet, and more importantly to you at that moment, census records.

As you had expected, you had no signal on the surface of the moon to send a message to headquarters for a rescue. Instead you focused on what you could find out.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed the man’s suit. Though a little hard to read in the dim light you could make out what looked to be an ID number. You had to know who your captor (or saviour) really was. 875-162.

You typed in the worn black ink digits and waited. Nothing was notorious for its poor reception. The stranger was no longer interested in you know you were engrossed in the computer and not trying to attack him, he got up and was rustling around out of view.

Finally, the page loaded. A photo matching the stranger, though a little younger looking, flashed up in holo. You quickly covered the beam with your finger so as not to alert the man with you. You swiped down to read the information.

“Ezra,” You said under your breath as you read the page.

“I don’t remember giving you my name,” Ezra spoke, making you jump. You looked up, cheeks growing hot as you realised you had said it out loud.

“I searched your ID number,” you said, embarrassed you’d been caught, you told the truth. Ezra frowned, looking around him to see where you had seen it. You pointed to the suit piled up on the floor. The numbers were faded and hard to make out from the distance but you had worked it out. Ezra followed your finger and chuckled lightly.

“I forgot such identification exists,” He said, “You have good eyes to make it out from there,” He added.

You hummed in agreement. You were in perfect condition, had to be for the work. Perfect condition except for the concussion and various bruises on your body.

“Well now you know my name, can I enquire as to yours? I doubt that everyone calls you Researcher 42,” Ezra read your name from the ID card beforehand. Leant against the shelves next to him, he looked down at you.

“Some do,” You said plainly.

“That ‘some’ includes me, does it,” He raised an eyebrow, not expecting you to become so cold.

“Seems like it,”

“42 seems a little impersonal considering I just saved your life,”

“I’m meant to stay separated from my subjects. Anonymity helps with objectivity,” You explained. That wasn’t entirely true. You had always made friends with at least one person in every planet or city you researched. It was how you got the inside scoop, the local knowledge that made your articles so popular. Guide Guidance said that researchers stay anonymous for objectivity, but your popularity said otherwise. You just didn’t want to get any closer to Ezra, even just a quick glance at his record told you that he was not someone you wanted to be friends with.

As he had already shown you, he was a thief. He had been convicted of fraud, arson and two counts of murder. No wonder he was here. Most of the places in Nothing were hot beds for criminals like him. Nowhere in Everywhere would hire him, you expected that he had been hired by a contractor to come here and work for his freedom. There wasn’t much freedom stuck on the green though.

“Whether you give me your name or not, you’ve not got much choice in staying separated. A helpless thing like you will need protection here,”

“And you’ll offer that for free, will you?” You asked sarcastically, immediately knowing he would want something from you in return. You were already indebted to him for saving your life.

“There are a few things I desire,” He looked over your body, smirk twitching on his lips. You curled your lip and moved away from him.

“If you’re going to rape me, I’d rather try my luck out there by myself,”

“Oh no! No, little mouse I would never. I have done some felonious acts but I am not a savage!” He exclaimed quickly covering for himself. You regarded him sceptically. He had supposedly killed two people; he’d already crossed a line most people would not. You didn’t believe he wouldn’t step over that line too. “No, The Guide will want you back, I imagine anyone who returned you would be well rewarded,”

“Possibly,”

“Here’s my offer. I provide protection and shelter whilst you are here, and come that fateful day your deliverance arrives, you will negotiate considerable compensation for me,”

“What compensation would you want?”

“Enough money to live comfortably for the rest of my days free of obligation, a ship to get me off this rock and a clear record,”

“And if I say no?”

“Then you can see how well you fare in the forest alone. Food is pretty scarce this time of year and I wouldn’t put it past a few of them to push some more… basic human morals,” Ezra smirked as your eyes double in size. In all your travels you had never encountered cannibals, not human cannibals anyway.

“I- I can’t promise anything,” You stumbled over your worlds as you accepted faster than you should have. You didn’t know there was anyone other than Ezra on this planet, but you were not in the mood to find out.

“We will discuss details when the time comes,” He said. You nodded. “Now we have all that out the way,” He stood up from the floor, “I have to get to work,”

“What about me?”

“You aren’t coming with me,” He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But you just said-,” you started to protest until Ezra pulled a gun from seemingly nowhere, you immediately shut your mouth and flinched, “What is that?”

“Protection,” He held the gun out, waiting for you to take it.

“No, no, no! You said-“

“Until your people come to your aid, and give me my money, I’ve got to keep working. Any time wasted is money lost out here,” He explained impatiently. He stepped back closer to you and dropped the gun in your lap, “I assume you do know how to use that even if you don’t carry one yourself?”

You looked at the gun, assessing it properly. It wasn’t complicated, a barrel you assumed was already full of bullets and a trigger. Nothing you hadn’t seen before, apart from the electrical tape that was holding it together. With no more protest from you, Ezra assumed it was fine and stepped away, resuming his routine.

“I will be back at sundown. Help yourself to some food,” He told you.

“My food,” You corrected him.

“Remember who is dependent on who here, 42,” He said scornfully. With that he put his helmet back on to his head and left the tent leaving you all alone.

You waited a few moments to make sure he was gone before making your move. You couldn’t stay with a murderer. You were safer in your ship, wherever it was. You could make a distress call and be rescued. Ezra would never know.

You pushed the gun from your lap onto the floor and tried to stand up. Sat down you could feel how sore your limbs were, your back ached from just sitting up for a few minutes and you were pretty sure you could feel every bone in your feet. A light touch to the forehead told you there was a sizable egg growing on top.

Standing up the pain was worse. You immediately became dizzy, gripping onto the metal shelf quickly to stop yourself from falling. You cursed under your breath and took a deep breath. You could do it.

Or maybe you couldn’t.

You took one step towards the table of things Ezra kept, and fell back on your ass. You were lucky not to pull the shelves down with you as it rocked forward slightly. A few items fell off, narrowly missing you. You dodged the heavy items, cringing as the metal thumped to the ground.

Listening to your screaming body, you gave up. You shuffled back to your previously comfortable position against the wall of the tent and looked around you for something to keep yourself occupied.

There at your feet lay a small book. Ezra wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to meet an author, he apparently was a bibliophile. You picked the paper up, stretching to reach it over your bruised and aching legs. It was well worn, obviously water damaged as the pages curled and the image on the front as warped beyond recognition. The title: “Welcome to the Green”.

You were not going anywhere.

sooo what do you think? i had so much fun writing this fic, i hope you guys enjoyed it too. let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part :D

TAGGING usuals and interested people :): @hunters-heathen @peterssweetpea @beskarbabs @wille-zarr @fandom-blackhole @writeforfandoms @dindja @amneris21 @yespolkadotkitty

#ezra (prospect) x reader #ezra x f!reader #ezra x reader #ezra prospect #x reader #ezra prospect angst #enemies to lovers #prospect movie #ezra #pedro pascal character x reader #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal #the guide #molly writes

39 notes · View notes

writing-freak · 4 years

Text

BNHA Soulmate AU Week Day 4: Save Your Soul

(GIF credit to its owner!!! :) )

Takami Keigo (Hawks) x Reader

Word Count: 1,373

A/N: It’s day 4 of my bnha soulmate au week!! Today’s fic, featuring this cutie, is an au where there are colorful marks on your skin where your soulmate touches you for the first time. Reader has a pair of hands on their waist! They turn black when the soulmate touches them. I love this boy so much, and I had such a fun time writing this, so I hope you guys like it! Remember, I’m taking soulmate au headcannon and imagine requests for BNHA characters in addition to the 3 other fics I have planned for this week! Stay tuned, tomorrow I have a cute drawing one with the lovable idiot, Kaminari! I also have some headcannons for Shinsou and Aizawa coming this evening! If you want to be added to this week’s taglist, or have a request, let me know! Thanks for reading!! :))

Masterlist

Unlike most, you were dreading the day you met your soulmate. You lived in a world in which people wore their soulmarks proudly, and it wasn’t uncommon to find bright marks dotting people’s faces, arms, necks, collarbones. Your mother had a soulmark on her right shoulder, which matched your father’s marks on the tips of his left fingers. You always found her wearing clothes that displayed the dark handprint (dark once it had been touched), never wanting to cover it up.

You, on the other hand, didn’t like people to see your soulmark. Because instead of a handprint on your shoulder, a mark on your hands that you’ve shook, or a brush on your arm where you bump into each other on the street, you had a very different soulmark. Just above your hips, on the sides of your waist, were two big handprints, grabbing you from behind.

You didn’t exactly know the context of when or where or under what circumstances your soulmate would grab you by the hips, but you also weren’t stupid, and the only guesses you could come up with involved your soulmate being some kind of perv. So no, you weren’t looking forward to meeting them.

And it wouldn’t be until you met them that you changed your mind.

You weren’t expecting it to be such a lively day when you woke up that morning, deciding real quick to take a last minute trip to the grocery store before your friends came for dinner that afternoon. It was a pretty mundane morning, to be quite honest, and the most out-of-the-ordinary thing you did was deciding to have a bowl of cereal instead of just your daily cup of coffee for breakfast.

It was sunny out (that was a nice change from the rain you’d been stuck in all week), so you had no problem walking the fifteen minutes or so to the store. It was a decision you made when you were about halfway there that, looking back, may have not been the best choice.

The streets were crowded - it appeared everyone had the same idea as you - and you were becoming uncomfortable with the massive groups. You saw a smaller street ahead, one you recognized from when you had lived in the area as a child, and decided to take a little shortcut (it could hardly be called a shortcut, about ten minutes out of the way).

As you turned onto the street, you realized it had changed a lot over the years. The houses that had once housed families with children your age looked abandoned, and the overgrowth of trees on the sides of the road blocked a lot of the sunlight.

You weren’t even halfway down the road when you decided you were going to turn back.

But when you spun around, quickly, before you could change your mind, you were met face to face with a man you hadn’t realized was right behind you.

There was a flash of pain, and you felt the man’s body connecting with yours. You were tackled off the street, and found yourself on the ground, rubbing your elbows where you had fallen on them. The man had leapt back, and he was facing you with a menacing grin on his face. You struggled to stand, facing the man, who, now that you looked at him, in his strange suit and mask hanging from his face, you realized was a villain.

You were frozen to the spot, unable to move as the villain stared you down. Unfortunately for you, the villain had tackled you into a dark alley, and since you hadn’t been on the main street anyway, you were worried that no one would see you, and no one would come to your rescue. But no matter how much you knew in that moment that your fate rested in your hands, you simply could not move, rooted to the spot by an intense fear sweeping over you.

But your theory about not being seen must have been wrong, for seconds later, you heard a pair of sweeping wings flying over you. You hoped and prayed it was a hero, or a helpful civilian, and not another villain, but based on the man in front of you’s reaction, it wasn’t someone he liked.

The villain lashed out with his quirk, and a pair of steel bars came flying at you. But you heard one more sweep of the wings, and a pair of arms grabbed your waist and flew you out of the way just before the bars could impale your chest.

Despite the circumstances, and your racing heart, your attention immediately went to the hands on your waist, which seemed to be radiating some sort of warmth, a warmth that spread through your entire body. And even as the hands left your waist to wrap around your body, lifting you from the ground to get you further away from the scene, the warmth never left, sending an unexpected sort of comfort with you as you and your savior took to the skies.

You had never liked heights, but it was over in an instant, and you were set onto solid ground (or so you thought, you were a little dizzy from the flight) within seconds. The arms left, and you jumped away, turning to finally get a good look at the person who had saved your life.

You certainly weren’t expected to see the number two pro hero Hawks, with his red wings spreading behind him, his mouth open and his eyes wide with shock.

But a sudden breeze blew over you, stronger than you were used to, and your attention was momentarily brought to your surroundings.

“Are we on a roof?” you asked incredulously, looking around you.

Your words seemed to break the hero in front of you out of his trance, and he frantically began tearing his black gloves off, looking at his hands in amazement. His gaze then shifted to you, and in the time you took to blink, he was right there, holding your waist as he pulled you closer.

“What are you doing?” But Hawks didn’t listen, and he was currently pulling your shirt up, which happened to be tucked into your jeans. Before you could try and push him off, your soulmarks were revealed, and while the wind on your bare skin was biting, as the man, now behind you, fit his fingers over the marks on your skin, where they fit perfectly, a warmth like before spread through you.

The marks had turned black in the time it had taken you to fly to the roof.

His hands were lifted from your skin, and then he was turning you around to face him. But you could only stare into his golden eyes with the same look he had given you before, your mouth hanging open in shock.

He looked more composed, and a sly sort of grin crossed his face as he narrowed his eyes at you. It was all consuming, his gaze, and you felt your breath knocked from your lungs as you couldn’t look away.

His smile never faded, even as he talked, and his eyes were glued to yours, permanently, it seemed. You were way too close for you to focus. “I have a feeling by the look on your face that you know who I am, little dove,” he said, the first words he spoke to you, his voice unexpectedly deep and husky. “But as much as I regret having to say this, I do not know you. Care to introduce yourself to me?”

You realized you couldn’t speak. But as Hawks looked at you expectantly, you cleared your throat. “I-I’m y/n.”

His smile grew wider, if at all possible. “What a lovely name, y/n. I do believe we are soulmates.” You realized suddenly that his arms were still at your sides.

“Don’t you have a patrol to be doing?” you asked nervously, feeling breathless as you felt the distance between your bodies closing, every so slowly.

“I would say that I have a pretty good excuse. It’s not every day you meet the person you’re going to spend the rest of your life with.”

Taglist: @anything-and-everything-here69 @engel-hageshii @mrsreina @pm4gal

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paperbodiesamongthestars · 3 years

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Promises

He didn't have a lot of friends. That required trust, and trust just wasn’t something Billy Hargrove did. Except with Steve Harrington, apparently. Steve was his friend, which was fine. Billy would have preferred a lot more, but that did not seem particularly likely. Not for lack of trying on Billy's part, honestly. At this point, Billy was so overtly flirty with Steve that he was worried he had overshot genuine interest and was fast approaching the realm of parody. He had spilled his beer on Steve no fewer than four times in the past several months in the hopes that Steve would go to change out of his wet clothes and realize halfway through that just...hanging out in his underwear would be totally fine. Instead, Steve always disappeared into Billy's bedroom, completely at home in Billy's space, and came back wearing Billy's clothes. And that was somehow worse?

And the thing was—the thing was!—Steve clearly wasn’t uninterested. He blushed when Billy teased him. His breath hitched when Billy touched him sometimes. His pupils went wide when Billy stretched or flexed or did that one thing with his tongue. And he didn’t avoid touching Billy, like just about everybody else did, or touch him like he was something fragile or broken. He touched Billy casually all the fucking time. He hugged him when he arrived, and fell asleep against his shoulder, and tucked his feet under Billy’s thigh on the couch, and kissed him on the cheek before he left. He even kissed him on the fucking forehead sometimes, which made Billy feel small and blushy and unbearably cared for.

Billy wondered sometimes if he should just be honest with Steve, but that was tricky, wasn’t it? Because in this particular case, he couldn’t be honest with Steve without betraying a little too much about himself. And it’s not like he had all that many secrets left. Neil was gone and his treatment of Billy was common knowledge, at least among the people who knew what had actually happened at the mall. So, the vast majority of the people Billy actually talked to anymore. It turned out that competent doctors could tell the difference between recent monster trauma and years of physical abuse, and Steve's little group of nerds and their various hangers-on were around enough and had overheard enough to put it together. The fact that Billy was not actually into girls was also common knowledge among that same subset of people, but only because Billy had been in a coma, so he hadn't been able to mention to Eleven that she might not want to share that little tidbit with her friends. Billy wasn’t mad—couldn’t be, not at her—and with Neil gone, he supposed he had a little less to fear on that front. Besides, it wasn’t like he was going to do anything about it, aside from continuing to flirt shamelessly with Steve. So he only really had the one big secret left.

Here's how it was: Billy Hargrove, at the time that he was impaled by a massive interdimensional flesh monster, did not have a whole lot to live for. He had a shitty father and a mother who had fucked off quite a while back and a stepsister who had not yet given up on him for some reason, but who was also probably better off without him. He had a hopeless crush on a gorgeous, oblivious straight boy; several delightful mental images of that same straight boy in a frankly pornographic sailor outfit that he somehow had to wear for work; and treasured memories of California, but not quite enough money or guts to fuck off back to the beach where he came from, with or without Steve Harrington. All of that stuff was good, and it got Billy through the day sometimes, but none of it was actually something to live for. Steve Harrington in that sailor outfit came the closest, but Billy was never going to get to take it off of him, so what was the fucking point?

And Billy knew, even though he didn't exactly remember it, that it had gotten pretty bad for him a few times as he was recovering. Like, 'they were sure they were going to lose him' bad. And people had said a lot of fucking stupid things to him, both while he was in the hospital and after he got out, about fate and love and redemption. About holding on for the sake of the people you cared about. About not knowing what you had until you lost it. About how he must feel so lucky to be alive. And Billy hated all of it so fucking much. He wasn't alive because he had had some big epiphany about how precious life was, or because fate had spared him, or because he thought anyone on the planet would spend more than about thirty seconds being sad if he died. What he did have, what had actually kept him going when it got bad, were these...well, they weren’t anywhere close to clear enough to be called memories.

They came from that long, hazy period when his body was gradually knitting itself back together. When the boundary between being asleep and being awake hadn't seemed real at all. When he had almost no visual memories, aside from brief flashes of fluorescent lights or the shadows of people moving around above him. He had a handful of half-remembered phrases in various voices: Max whispering sorry, El whispering I won't tell. And these...other sentences. These promises, in Steve Harrington’s low, husky voice.

Billy was in no way certain that they were real. He didn't know how much of anything from that time was real. What they were was meaningful, which made it fucking impossible to talk about them. Unlike all the bullshit about fate and family and redemption, they had helped him. Had helped a lot, actually. Had given him something tangible to live for when it would have been so much easier to just let it all slip away. But that was the other thing--they weren't exactly things that Steve Harrington would actually, conceivably say to him. They were things he would have killed to hear from Steve, would still kill to hear from Steve, but Steve was sweet. Goofy, affectionate, kind. Unfailingly supportive. An invaluable friend throughout Billy's recovery. An invaluable friend who consistently, gracefully deflected Billy’s obvious flirting. It hardly seemed possible that he had said those things, and Billy really didn’t want to find out that he hadn’t. It was too awful to contemplate. Because, shit, they still kept him going sometimes, a year and a half later.

The first one came to him from far away, like he was hearing it from the bottom of a well. “I swear to God, Billy, if you make it through this I’ll let you choke on my dick whenever you feel like it.” So, like, there was a fair amount to unpack there. First of all, Steve almost never actually called him Billy, even now. And secondly, literally everything else about that sentence. It wasn't possible that it was real. Billy had to have made it up, given himself a fucking reason not to move toward the light or whatever. And if that had been the only one, he would have dismissed it as an obvious fabrication of his own mind without a second thought. But it wasn’t.

The second one was a little clearer, though all of them were maddeningly hazy. Had he actually felt Steve’s breath against the shell of his ear while he'd said it? It was impossible to say. “Hey gorgeous, hang in there, ok? Wouldn’t want you to die before I get the chance to fuck you so hard you forget your own goddamn name.” It was true—he absolutely did not want to die before that happened. That one had gotten him through some bleak nights, even after he woke up. He still got half hard every time he thought about it.

The next one was maybe Billy’s favorite. Although, honestly they were all his favorite. He wasn't sure he had ever treasured anything more. The third time, he was almost sure he could feel the warmth radiating off of Steve’s body as Steve leaned in next to his ear. “Come on, tiger, you gotta get through this so you can show me absolutely everything you can do with that tongue.” A little less filthy, maybe, but no less motivating. He did want to do that, very much. He had thought about it quite a bit while he was in the hospital. He still thought about it just about every time Steve came over to his apartment, which was often.

The fourth one changed it up a bit. “We’re going to sit there on the sand and watch the sun set over the ocean, and I’m going to make you cream your swim trunks right there on the beach.” And goddamn, that was quite the mental image. Fuck a bunch of holding on for the people you cared about; that was worth living for.

The fifth one was ragged, a little desperate. “You can’t die, baby. I’ve never let anybody put their dick in me before, and you have to live so you can do it.” That one came with the gentle sensation of a hand in his, the phantom press of lips to his temple. He was pretty sure he woke up just a few days after that one. And rightfully fucking so, honestly.

So yeah. He still had the one secret. And there was no fucking way to talk about it without revealing way too much about himself. So he didn't talk about it, and he was never going to talk about it, and he was going to go to his grave not knowing if any of it was real, and he was going to be fine with that because there weren't any other options. Until Steve slipped up.

It was far too early on a Saturday morning. Steve had arrived at an even more ungodly hour and had dragged Billy out of bed for some weekend trip. He wouldn't say where they were going, but he promised it was going to be great, and Billy could sleep in the car, and they were going to have the time of their lives. So Billy was slouched grumpily in the passenger seat, nursing an enormous coffee and periodically glaring at everything out the window for having the audacity to exist at this hour. He didn't glare at Steve. All of this was Steve's fault, but Billy couldn't be mad at him when he looked all sleepy and his hair was a mess and he was wearing his fucking glasses instead of his usual contacts. Billy couldn't be mad at him under any other circumstances either, but he deliberately didn't think too much about that, so it was fine.

Billy watched out of the corner of his eye as Steve sipped his own coffee and stifled a yawn. Steve had spent the first half hour of the drive not talking at all, but the coffee was apparently kicking in, so now he was trying to get Billy excited about his mystery plan.

“Come on, tiger, you’re going to love it,” he finally said. Billy wasn’t fully awake, so it took a second for it to land. Come on, tiger. When it did, Billy’s head snapped up, eyes wide. It could easily have been a coincidence; Steve would have been fine if he had just played it off, but that's not what happened. When Billy looked up, Steve was staring intently out the windshield, resolutely not looking at him. But his shoulders were creeping up around his ears and his face had gone scarlet. Billy felt a grin spreading across his face. Suddenly, he was on top of the goddamn world; this was shaping up to be the best day of his life. He stared at Steve’s profile for a long moment as the flush from his face spread down his neck. The atmosphere in the car was electric. Billy took a deep breath and tried to get himself under control. Steve's entire demeanor had hope beating wildly in his chest, but there was still room for this to end in disappointment.

“Absolutely everything, huh?” Billy said it quietly, carefully, deliberately, and then he held his breath. Steve made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, and Billy felt giddy. Steve had been right--they had only been on the road for forty minutes, but Billy was already having the time of his life on this trip. Steve didn't say anything, but after a few long moments of silence, he pulled the car over onto the shoulder. After he carefully put the car in park and turned it off, he dropped his forehead to the steering wheel. He didn't lift his head when he spoke.

“I didn't think you remembered," he said slowly. Billy didn't say anything and after a moment, Steve gave a little sigh and continued, still talking mostly to the floor. "The first time, it was a fucking Hail Mary. You were declining fast and nothing was working, and I just...I had a hunch. So I waited until everyone else had left the room and I tried it." Billy was absolutely delighted picturing it, Steve flushed bright red, leaning down to whisper stuff about his dick into Billy's ear. "They kicked me out right after that, at about four am. They told me to go home and get some rest, and to be prepared for bad news. But when I got back to the hospital a few hours later, you were doing better.” Steve cleared his throat. “Apparently you started improving shortly after I left. I told myself it was probably a fucking coincidence, but part of me thought that maybe it had actually worked." He huffed out a laugh. "I could barely fucking believe that you weren’t dead; it was bad. And then a couple of weeks later, it got bad again. So I tried it again. And you started doing better again. And then it was like this secret that we had. That I had,” Steve corrected himself. He sat up and dropped his head back against the headrest, but he still wouldn't look at Billy. He stared out the windshield instead. His face was still bright red. “And then you actually woke up. I didn’t know if you remembered any of it, and I didn’t want to be the kind of person who would come onto you while you were in a fucking coma and then act like you owed me something afterwards, so I kept my mouth shut.”

"Steve," Billy said softly. Steve rubbed his hands over his face.

"I'm sorry," he said, and Billy stopped breathing for a second.

"Don't," he said quietly. They sat in silence for a long moment, and then Billy decided that he had to know what exactly Steve was apologizing for. “Did you...” he started to ask, but he found that he couldn’t finish the sentence. Steve glanced at him and his face softened before his eyes shied away again.

“Mean it? Yes. Fuck yes. Every word.”

“Then what the fuck, Steve?” Billy had been beyond obvious for months. Steve sighed. His hands came back up to his face, and then he sat up straighter and squared his shoulders.

“You just...you went through something so awful, and it was like...your world got so small. You were trapped in the hospital, and now you're trapped in Hawkins until they clear you to leave." Steve glanced over again, and his voice got smaller. "I just...I really wanted you, but I didn't want you to do something you'd regret just because I was there, you know? And I still don't want you to feel trapped into something just because you can't leave this goddamn town. I would never want you to be with me just because you don't have any other choices."

Ok, so there was plenty to unpack there, and all of it was wrong. Except the part where Steve said he wanted Billy--that part was the best thing he had ever heard. Well, the sixth best thing he'd ever heard. There was a silence while Billy thought about what he wanted to say. He took a breath to psych himself up.

"The first thing you should probably know is that I was into you well before any of the Mindflayer stuff even happened. So there's that." Billy cleared his throat, watching Steve out of the corner of his eye. "And the second thing you should know is that I got cleared to leave Hawkins over a month ago." Steve's head whipped around, wide eyes on Billy's face.

"Then why..." Steve trailed off. Billy had considered leaving, but only briefly. He wanted to go back to the beach, he did, but not by himself. Not anymore.

"Steve," Billy said again, giving Steve a look. "You know why." After all, Billy had been the opposite of subtle about it. Steve just stared at him, eyes going impossibly wider as Billy deliberately took off his seatbelt and moved into Steve's space. "But fine, if you need me to spell it out, I'm definitely not in this car with you right now because I don't have any other options."

He leaned in and pressed his lips to Steve's. Steve responded immediately and enthusiastically, and something that had still been wound tight in Billy's chest eased. By the time they broke apart to breathe, Billy was practically in Steve's lap, both of his hands up under Steve's shirt. Steve had one hand at Billy's lower back and the other buried in his curls. They sat panting a little, their foreheads pressed together. Billy smiled wickedly.

"I would just like to point out that you made a lot of promises about what was going to happen if I didn't die, Harrington, and I held up my end of the bargain." Steve's answering smile was bright and just a little cocky.

"I'm looking forward to keeping every single one of those promises, Hargrove. We can start as soon as we get where we're going." Billy frowned at him.

"I survived being impaled by a giant flesh monster because you promised me--"

"My giant flesh monster?" Steve cut in, cracking up halfway through. Billy snorted, but did not further dignify that with a response.

"As I was saying," he said instead, "I am alive today because you have a really nice dick and a filthy mouth, and I have been waiting on both of them for months, and I am definitely not waiting three more hours to get started." He punctuated this declaration by reaching for the top button of Steve's pants. He had it and the next two buttons open before Steve reached out to stop him.

"Billy," he hissed, "we are parked on the side of the highway! We are not doing this here. Literally anyone could look over at any time and get a fantastic view of exactly what we're doing." Steve had a point, but Billy didn't have to like it.

He sighed and kissed Steve one more time, hard, before he reluctantly clambered back over to the passenger seat.

"Fine," he said. "We can compromise." He leaned over and grabbed Steve's wrist to look at his watch. Then he smiled at Steve, sharp and a little predatory. "I'm going to start sucking your dick in twenty minutes, if not before. We're still in fucking Indiana, so that should give you plenty of time to find some deserted back road somewhere." Steve was already starting the car.

He grinned over at Billy as he pulled back into traffic and made his way to the next exit.

"So you're going to start at the top and work your way through them, huh?"

"Maybe. We'll just have to see," Billy said. He paused. "I gotta say, pretty boy, I'm legitimately fuckin' impressed. I didn't know you had it in you." Steve smirked at him.

“Hey, give me some credit. I knew you well enough to know that if I had mentioned feelings, or called it making love, you would have immediately chosen the sweet embrace of death.” Billy laughed along with Steve because Steve was right: at one point, Billy absolutely would have done that.

Not anymore, though. Not if it was Steve. But he wasn't about to just blurt that out, so. He could still have one secret. For now, anyway.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #my writing #I don't know man #I wrote this at three am a couple weeks ago #I'm done staring at it so now you get to look at it #I'm sorry #or you're welcome!#one of those

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kuuderekweenfics · 3 years

Text

Dabi is Not a Liar

Hello everyone,

This is it. I’ve fallen off the precipice of...what exactly? Sanity? Or, perhaps, lack of shame? Who knows. But this was a fun little piece I wrote about a month ago. I put it up on AO3, but I thought I’d create a Tumblr for future fics since this is a bit more social.

Please keep in mind that I am shaking the dust off my writing and so it may not be the most polished piece of work. Go easy on me. But I hope you enjoy it regardless!

Explicit Warning: non consent or extremely dubious consent.

Fingernails carve into the the filthy brick of the abandoned building nestled by the sea. The pier moaned, it’s cold breath wrapping around your body and reeking sourly of fish and decay.

Your head hangs low between your hollow arms. How you got yourself into this position is due to several reasons, of course. One, your brain is swollen twofold in your skull, pounding with the weight of lead. Two, shame caresses every part of your body far more thoroughly than the man who currently has you trapped between him and the wall. Three, and most likely the most crucial reason, Dabi, ‘the Cremator’ as he was so often called, has been railing you senseless for the past hour.

You cried yourself dry after about ten minutes. He came quickly the first time, unabashedly getting off on your whimpers and pleas. Where he dug up the stamina to keep his cock hard for another three rounds was a dull ache for your mind, and pussy, to ponder over.

The strength in your knees escaped long ago. His fingers gripping your bare ass as he currently pounds himself into you, deeper and deeper each time, is the only support you have against gravity.

He attempts some foreplay occasionally, killing the space between the two of you as he whispers into your ear threats of what is to come and reaches under you to thrash at your clit rough and carelessly. This is, you figured out, more to his benefit than yours; he had to get you more motivated to continue the little game he set for the both of you somehow. You mewl softly when he does, cursing your needy body for betraying your wants.

Because this isn’t what you want. No, no, no. Not even if his thick, veiny cock fills you to the brim and sometimes hits a spot in your core that makes you see stars and silently beg, much to your humiliation, for more.

What you want is to go pro. You just started working for a small agency start up only a week ago. You’ve dedicated to becoming a top ten hero, even if your quirk isn’t the most convenient. But if a guy who’s power was to do laundry could make it to the top, so can you and your absurdly comical gacha quirk. You are able to generate capsules from your hands, ranging anywhere between the size of a tennis ball to a beach ball, but the contents inside are always random. This little inconvenience made your quirk almost entirely useless. Despite it all, you trained hard and got a once in a lifetime opportunity at this agency. Your task today was to survey the pier for any suspicious activity called in by a concerned citizen. You were strictly told not to engage and call for back up as soon as you surveyed something worthwhile. But you immediately ran in, all too confident in your ability at hand-to-hand combat, as if you had something to prove. You crouched behind stacked crates and fumbled through your creations: a teddy bear, a toaster, a tennis racket. Before you could generate another capsule, you heard his whistle behind you. He was crouched, hands lazily in his pockets and looking over your shoulder with a deadpan expression that plainly said you were in over your head.

But you knew you were quick. The tennis racket sped toward its target only to be crumbled to ash as his hand stopped it an inch from the side of his head. He smiled at you then, not quite reaching his eyes but eerie and menacing all the same. And before you could even fathom throwing the toaster, he pinned your neck to the wall. Your feet kicked helplessly against the brick, unable to find purchase on the floor a inches below. One of your hands pried at his arm while the other reached for his face or his neck or anything you could grab hold of that could cause enough pain to lot weaken his grip. Your breaths came up short, your lungs screamed for a sip of air.

“It looks like a little mousy lost her way,” he chuckled. “Now whatever am I going to do with you?”

Drool leaked from your mouth as you fought against your restraint and blurred vision. Your mind clawed for consciousness, your body begged for survival. You had come to terms that one day you could potentially meet your end at the hands of a villain, as does any hero in this field of work, but you hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

You felt the obstruction in your mouth before you saw it. The thumb of his free hand pressed on your dancing tongue, drool pooling where he held it down firm. If the look in his eyes scared you before, now they were wild and carnal and more terrifying.

He first has his way with you with his hand still around your throat. He let up on his grip and was so gracious enough to let you wrap your legs around him while he impales you without a second thought.

He grunts. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

You are no longer a virgin, but you’re sure you never experienced cock of this size, all the while without some form of foreplay. Granted, he used your drool to lubricate himself before sheathing himself deep in your gummy walls, the friction elicits a gasp of pain while from you as he moans and nips at your neck. Not long after he begins to thrust do you start sobbing, and soon after that he shoots inside of you, his cock twitching to unload what feels like everything he had. You hope it is over then. He would either kill you or leave you there broken physically and mentally. You find out soon enough it is neither.

“I’m gonna fuck you until your voice is gone from screaming my name, little mousy,” He gasps into your shoulder as the twitching finally ebbs and his release oozes down your thigh. “I’m gonna fill you with my cum until I am sure that when I leave you in this shithole, you will have a little part of me with you for the rest of your miserable life.”

And if there is one thing you can call Dabi, among the million curses and names you can conjure, you aren’t sure if you can call him a liar. For true to his word, albeit only partially, he comes into you, hard and relentless, two more times before starting once more. You are absolutely positive this goes against all modern male biology. But you guess, in a world with bizarre quirks, anything is possible.

Halfway through round four, you feels his fingers weave into your hair and, for a moment, you think Dabi just may capable of being passionate. Or, at the very minimum, maybe he thinks more of you than just a bucket for him to shoot his load in. This moment, you find, is fleeting as he yanks your head back and pulls you up until your back lies flat against his chest. He slowly pulls the zipper of your shirt down and grabs your breast callously, pinching your nipple hard until you cry out.

You can only imagine that he’s grown bored of your silence and complacency because his other hand reaches around until his fingers find your clit, exposed and hungry for some well-deserved stimulation. His fingers rub small circles against it, and you feel nauseated as you let out a moan, your pussy clenching desperately around him in newly kindled desire.

He hisses at your reaction, an obvious stamp of approval and continues flicking your bundle of nerves as he pumps in and out of you. “Say my name.”

Your mind, which, up until this point, had been lost in a sea of fog, finally breaks the surface. And it is pleading with you to not give in. He speeds up, each thrust hitting the right spot and oh no, oh no, it feels so fucking good.

“Say my name, little mouse.”

Your core coils tight with stimulation, the spring on the precipice of release with the pressure of his calloused fingers. The ache you had felt up until then is replaced with an immense pleasure that you haven’t felt in, let’s face it, ever. You stand on your toes to give him a better angle. Your hands searched for something to anchor onto. One mindlessly reaches above to grab onto his hair as he licks you, hot breath warming your already flush neck, the other latches onto your ignored breast.

“Say it.”

You bucked against him, almost there, almost there, so very close....

Until he becomes utterly and completely still.

“No, no. Please, Dabi! I need it. Fuck me, please Dabi!” You sob.

And with that, you feel a smirk form against your neck. He pulls out of you and before you can so much as whimper, he shoves you back onto a large crate. He grabs one leg and forces it up and over his shoulder as he penetrates you, holding your waist to keep you steady as he pumps in fast and hard. His hip bumps into your overstimulated clit with each thrusts and it nearly obliterates you. In this new position, his cock kisses your cervix and, if you ever had any semblance of control since being pounded into, it has all but disappeared.

“Dabi! I’m going to...Ah, shit, I’m gonna...”

As you begin convulsing, you hear his name, loud, hot and heavy, escape from your lips. Your release sends him over the edge, and he ruts into you.

Just as quickly, he slides out of you, places himself back into his pants and walks out with his hands in his pockets without a word before the cum can so much as leak out of you. You lay still and let the world refocus before you get up and go home. You come to realize that he didn’t so much as care if you came or not, and that the fact that you had was a happy coincidence on your part. What he was really aiming for was you to scream his name, just as he said you would. How little regard villains had felt about others left you in awe. Can you really go head to head against him or any other villain again?

You submit your resignation the next day.

And two months later, as you stand wide-eyed and frozen over the test exposing itself to you on the bathroom sink, you can finally confirm that Dabi is, in no way shape or form, a liar.

#dubious consent #no consent #ruttingseason #fan fiction #fanfiction #dabi my hero academia #dabi x reader #forced impreg #forcedsex #smut #dabi smut

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