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#freeing like putting off a lil of the fire that is burning you alive is freeing. id much rather not have been on fire from the beginning yk
ii-zi · 7 months
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Even when they ask, venting to people makes me feel like a tar pit lol
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SU AU Raised in Corruption: Not your son
"Steven? STEVEN!?"
An anxious voice called frantically in the otherwise quiet, dense forest.
"He has to be here. This is where Garnet found him..." Pearl mutters, her head on a swivel, as she looked through the thick wooded flora around her. "Steven! Please come out! We need to talk about what happened!"
"You should just give it up, P... You scared him off with your whole Rose blow out." Amethyst grumbled, swatting at a cluster of gnats that had hovered around her as she trudged behind the thin gem. "Besides, I think he'd be better off with--"
"NO! No he's not!" Pearl snapped, stopping to glare at the purple gem, who flinched away at the outburst. "Those things are not his family! We are! We always have been!"
"You didn’t make him feel like family."
Startled, Pearl snapped her head towards the direction of the gruff, yet feminine voice. "You!"
Once she recognized the thick maned corrupt gem, her startlement quickly turned into bitter distaste and her face soured. "What are you doing here?"
"I live here." Fluffy replied calmly and matter-of-factly. "Why are you here?"
"Oh, you know why," Pearl scoffed. "We're looking for our Steven."
"Yeah he kinda ran off after Pearl…" Amethyst started to explain, but trailed off upon getting a warning glare from pearl. She coughed awkwardly before continuing. "Uh… yeah… have you uh… have you seen him by any chance?"
"...No clue. Sorry." Fluffy responded after a pause. She turned and started to walk back to the forest with a flick of her tail.
"Welp, we tried." Amethyst shrugged tiredly, already turning on her heel. "Let's try this again tomorrow."
She was about to walk back towards the beach, but was halted off by a tight grip on her head.
"Not so fast." Pearl spoke with such a low, venomous voice which sounded uncharacteristically grim enough to startle Amethyst.
"Er, Pearl I don’t think--" Before Amethyst can finish her protest, Pearl stormed after the direction of the corrupt gem, her fist clenched.
"I know you're lying, you beast!" Pearl exclaimed harshly, catching up to Fluffy enough to grip her tail and yank at it sharply causing the corrupt gem to grunt and whip her head around to face her incredulously. "You will tell us where he is this instant!"
Fluffy snorted as she pulled her tail free of the pearl's grip to turn around to face her. "Fluffy already said, she doesn't know where he went." She replied in a calm voice, though it was notably hard in irritation. "Even if she did, why would she tell an angry gem like Pearl?"
"Because we had an agreement!" She pointed a finger at the Corrupted Quartz, her eyes full of fire. "The deal was, as long as you let us have him and stood out of our way, you and your group would stay un-bubbled!"
"P…" Amethyst stood uncomfortably, her gaze flicking between Fluffy and Pearl. “P, we should really-“
"I also said to make sure he was happy and safe." Fluffy Quartz growled, dropping the passive-aggressive act entirely. "But from what I heard, you failed on both accounts."
Pearl splutters for a moment, the jeer catching her off guard. "That-- That’s none of your business!" She snapped, putting on a defensive face, fixing Fluffy with a stern glare. "There's been a few hiccups at best! Nothing he couldn't handle! Just- Just tell me where he is so we can straighten it out!"
"My son, my business." Fluffy Quartz snapped, her fur bristling in defense. "He barely handled any of the nonsense you put him through."
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"He's NOT your son!" Pearl snapped furiously, her eyes burning with anger. "You may have kept him alive, I'll give you that, but at the end of the day he's ours now! We made a deal!"
"And I take it back." Fluffy rebelled, digging her fingers into the dirt as she fought back an urge to snap at the pearl's nose that was mere inches away from her muzzle. "I refuse to let my Lil Quartz get subjected to anymore of this crystal gem Nepotism nonsense."
"I don't recall giving you a choice...!" Pearl brought her hand up to her gem, ready to summon her spear. “Either you tell me where he is or else—“
"Pearl! Don't!"
Pearl's wrist was suddenly grabbed, and she was shocked to see Garnet looking at her with an urgent expression. "It's... it's his decision if he wants to stay. We must leave him."
"What!?" Pearl's eyes stretched wide in shock, as she wretched her hand away. "You can't be serious!"
"If Lil Quartz is more happy with Fluffy Quartz, then so be it. The damage is done, and at the end of the day, it's about what he wants." Garnet stated, with an air of finality. Pearl was about to protest, but Garnet pushed her back away from Fluffy, turning her attention back to the gem. 
"Although... tomorrow I really would like to have a word with you and Lil Quartz." She adjusted her visor slightly, before continuing on. "If it's okay with you… I have a new proposal."
Fluffy stared at the fusion for a long time. Part of her couldn't trust the fusion, on account of being part of the same team that subjected her boy to such horrid living conditions...
...but at the same time, she has been the most civil with you and Lil Quartz. Using terms like Feral Gem and letting him sit out most missions... what other offers could she have in mind?
"...very well. Tomorrow, then."
Garnet gave a small relieved smile as she nodded. "Thank you, Fluffy. We'll leave you be now."
"Garnet!?" Pearl called incredulously, while the latter looked at her indifferently.
"Pearl."
With that she started to walk back towards the direction of the beach, with Amethyst snickering at the remark as she followed behind the gem Leader. Pearl stood for a moment watching Garnet left, before turning back to glare at Fluffy Quartz one last time.
"This isn't over."
With that, she stormed her way after her teammates, her fists clenched in frustration and defeat. Fluffy watched her do so, her eyes narrowed with distaste.
How could she be Rose's most trusted associate?
…Did I make the right choice..?
"Mama?"
Fluffy heard a tiny voice behind her, and felt a small figure press into her midarm. "Who was that? What happened?"
Fluffy stood for a moment, staring off in the direction of the Crystal Gems.
"...nothing for you to worry about, Dewdrop.." Fluffy assured, turning to give Lil Quartz a lick on the head. “Get back to the camp. Dinner will be soon.”
...I hope I don’t regret this...
~~~~~~~~~~~
Couldn’t go on without showing our salty pearl!
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teratonasti · 3 years
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Gunpowder, Bang Bang
I’m a fictional man’s WHORE and I love love love gunplay. Mista is so perfect for that and I am just uebrvuebr FERAL
This fic includes: GUNPLAY, unprotected sex, gn!reader, Mista being a lil bit of a creep, fear play, kinda dubcon, blowjobs, fucking in an alleyway, reader gets fucked by a gun, mentions of death (mentioned like twice)
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Being forced to open your mouth and drool on a stranger’s cock, a gun pressed against your temple, shouldn’t be hot. But yet here you were in that predicament and you were burning with lust. Wrong place wrong time was always the saying, but right now... This was the best place at the very right time. A groan sounds as you press forward, the head of the guy’s dick pressing into your throat, and you feel something like pride bubble up in your chest.
You had run into him at the bar, three drinks already in your system and making everything just a little fuzzy. He’d chatted you up, let his hands wander some. On the dancefloor you’d had him all over you; leaving kisses on every patch of skin he could reach and seducing you- he was a charmer. The feeling of something hard pressing into your belly as you rocked against him had gotten you giggling, shouting over the music: “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just having a lot of fun?”
He had laughed and brought you closer, grinding it against you. His voice was low, rumbling in your ear, as he replied, “Would you like to find out?” The proposition was too good to pass up- after a few minutes of navigating the dancefloor, you were shoved out into an alley and forced down on your knees. Your new friend didn’t waste time in getting his fingers wrapped in your hair, using the grip to smush your cheeks against the bulge in his pants. There was a certain fire in his eyes- something so feral and animalistic that you questioned if this was really the right thing to do.
But then he was sliding the gun out of the front of his pants and putting it by your lips like he would his dick; his breathing was shallow, and you knew that he wanted this more than he wanted you to get a taste of his cock. So you stuck your tongue out, eyes still focused on his, and circled the wet muscle around the muzzle. It still tasted like gun powder, with a sheen of sweat making your taste buds come alive, and you wondered if he’d shot anyone before he’d gone to the club. Had he killed someone with this very gun, before you’d run into him? Would he shoot and kill you if you did bad?
His eyes soften as he sees the worried crinkle of your brows, and tipped your gaze up with a couple fingers pinched on your chin. “If you suck me off good I won’t use it on you, sweet thing,” he purrs as if he’s read your mind, and you nod slowly. The guy laughs at the hazy look in your eyes as he presses his gun against your tongue and pushes it until the trigger guard mashes against your lower jaw. Your jaw hurts a bit but you still hollow your cheeks around the gun and suckle it like you would a dick; you have to put on a good show for him, after all.
It’s only a few minutes of fucking your mouth before he has to pull his gun away and stare at it in the moonlight. Saliva glistens on the warm steel, making it shine, and he gives you a wide grin. “You’re such a sweet thing, giving my gun a good spit shine. You deserve a reward- don’t you think?” he coos, and you’re nodding instantly, tongue still hanging out and drool dripping down to splash on the pavement between your knees. He’s tugging his cock out now, pants opened enough to let the thick length pop free but staying on. You squirm in place; your gaze flickers back and forth between his cock and his eyes, waiting for your permission.
It comes in the form of the still wet gun pressing to your temple and his hips shoving forward, and his voice growling “Suck.” 
Mista’s groaning as you take his dick all the way down your throat, eyes closed in concentration as your throat clicks around him. You’re trying to swallow it all, force it even deeper, and he’s about to bust already. He didn’t expect this when he singled you out in the club- but damn was he happy. Not many darlings accepted that he wanted them to slobber on his gun before his cock, and a lot would run screaming the moment the metal kissed their skin.
Not you.
Instead of running or fearing him, you took Mista’s fetish in stride and sucked like your life depended on it. Not only on his gun, but also on his cock. He was already shaking when your fingers run up to cup and squeeze his balls, making his head fall back and a groan escape. Mista taps the muzzle against your temple a he gets his hand in your hair and shoves his dick all the way in. He watches your eyes get wide as your nose is buried in the thick thatch of pubes, and then he’s wiggling his hips a bit just to make his dick stir in your throat and make you make those delicious gagging noises.
Everything he does, you take it in stride. You look at him with teary eyes and a runny nose, gaze crossed when he thumps the gun’s muzzle between your eyebrows as he fucks your throat. He’s close to cumming, and he growls a bit when he feels your tongue swirl around him.
“Gonna swallow my cum, huh?” he groans, and your cheeks burn red. He’s deep dicking your throat, relishing the clench of your fingers around his thighs. Mista’s eyes roll back when you hum around him and he grunts, head tipping back. “Yeahhh, gonna cum down your throat then fuck you with my gun... I know you’re itching for it, slut,” he groans, fingers curling tight in your hair. The sudden squeeze of your hand around his nuts has him cumming with a shout, filling your throat and almost choking you with how much he gushes inside your mouth.
Once you’ve swallowed it all, Mista’s yanking you to your feet and ripping away your lower garments, getting to your aching hole. He stares with a grin on his face before he spits on you, spreading his saliva all over you.
Then... He presses his gun against your hole.
You’re already worked up, opening with ease under the cool metal, and your head falls back when he presses the gun fully inside you. One finger rests delicately on the trigger- he knows it’s empty, he’d never risk your life like that- and your adrenaline surges at the fear of getting a bullet in your guts instead of a hot, creamy load. Your fingers dig into his cropped sweater, eyes wide as he thrusts it in and out of your body.
Oh, he loves the look in your eyes. The fear, paired with the shy hope that he’s not going to blast a hole in your body on accident. Mista licks his lips, hands finding your chest through your top and rolling a nipple between two fingers. He leans in to press his forehead against yours, voice low as he speaks. 
“Don’t worry, sweetheart... It’s not a full chamber.”
A shiver races down your spine and you squeal when his finger presses full on the trigger and there’s a little click of the hammer falling. Your heart is racing- there was no telling if the next press would have you creaming or dying. It was delicious. You’re rapidly getting close to orgasm, fingers clenching on his gun hand and breath getting faster. He presses a kiss to your cheek as he angles his gun just right, rubbing against your sweet spot.
“Go on, sweet thing, cum on my gun. Say my name, too- Mista,” he sighs in your ear, watching as your hips jerk and thighs quake. You’re chanting his name like a prayer when he moves his other hand to your sex and rubs quickly at you. The final straw is when he pulls the trigger again, your climax rushing over you with the fall of the hammer.
Mista’s there the whole time, holding you tight and shushing every little sob that leaves you, and slides his gun out of your body with a smile. You sniffle when he opens the chamber to show you that it’s empty; then you lean in and give him a long, deep kiss. Mista happily returns the kiss, cradling you close and rubbing his hands over your belly. You break away with a sigh, one hand cupping the heat of his erection.
“Next time, Mista,” you murmur against his lips as you rub your thumb against his frenulum, “I want you to fuck me with this big cock.”
He groans, bucking into your touch, then drops his gun on the ground in favor of hoisting you up into the air. Your back scrapes against the wall as he manhandles you into place, his dick kissing against your sensitive hole.
“How ‘bout we have that next time right now... Already got you stretched out,” he sighs against your mouth. You simply grin and rock down, letting the wide head pop inside, while Mista lets out a bone deep groan.
You hold on for the ride, legs locked tight around his tiny waist. This was going to be a very long night- but a very delicious one.
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a-gal-with-taste · 2 years
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Imagine silco likes 'As the world caves in' cuz its reader's fav song and they dance together enjoying each other. Then when silco is dying reader sing that song to silco while holding his hand for the last time.
First off, OW, second off, how DARE, and third, OUCH.
And finally, this but because I'm a big baby who can't even look at gifs of That Scene without immediately scrolling away, i'mma take your idea and put a lil' twist on it.
And because I'm mean, i'mma gonna give a Young/Revolutionary!Silco more trauma than he has already. Prepare the hankies.
Warnings: Death, violence, blood, descriptions of a deadly injury. Heavy, heavy angst, tragedy during war/revolution, doomed-love.
Pairing: Silco X GN!Reader
Wordcount: 1k+
Recommended Listening: As the World Caves In (Duet)
"And here it is; our final night alive..." It always could be; thats why they lived for these moments.
Piss-drunk, singing haunting dirges for those dead and those not-yet. He doesn't join in, for the dark humor this song brings always seems a bit much, for different reasons. Life is already dark enough in the underground; should the dead be sent off with a darkness such as this as well? Even in death, do those left to rot in the shadows of a great city, lie remembered in those shades as well?
...Perhaps Vander is right, he's getting too melancholy for his own good. Comes with the job, perhaps, but Silco sighs nonetheless, bringing his hard-liquor to his lips.
He struggles not to immediately snort down the hard-whiskey as he hears you crowing along to the doomed-lyrics, lowering his cup to watch as you throw back your head, using one of the empty bottles as a faux-microphone.
This has always been your favorite. The green-eyed young man doesn't ever understand why, but can't stop the smile tugging at his normally-stoic expression to see you obnoxiously, and very intoxicately, sing along to the lyrics with a large grin of spite and challange on your face. As if to dare Topsiders to bring it all come crashing down.
The weight of his stare must be heavy, because you turn and your smile somehow goes wider as you slip off the bar-stool, leaving Benzo and Vander to chortle and sway together; from the slow music or the alcohol, Silco doesn't know, and can't really bring himself to care as you quickly make your way over to him.
"And as the earth burns to the ground..." You hum it so sweetly, this tragedy on the record-player, that the smile can't help but finally appear on his face. He lets out a dramatic 'oof' as you settle onto his lap, snatching the cup away and tossing your bottle-microphone onto the table to free your hands, roving them up his chest, neck, before settling on either side of his angular face.
Silco closes his eyes and lets out a amused snort at the quick, smacking kiss you give him on the forehead between pause of the chorus. Your giggle fades and he opens his eyes to meet yours as you rest your forehead to his, hands slipping back to cart through his dark hair as you look at him with such care, such warmth, such love.
His arms tighten around your waist as, in contrast with your earlier karaoke, you now breathe the next words of the song against his lips:
"O' boy, it's you that I lie with..."
-
Silco feels it before he hears it. He doesn't know how it's possible, but he will later decide that the sudden lightening of your iron-tight grip on his hand as the two of you raced from the front-line was enough to make him turn, just in time watch you fully come tumbling to the ground with your hand slipping from his grasp.
He only realizes it after you've come crashing down, that his ears are still ringing from the ill-fated fired bullet that has torn through you, and your echoing, ragged gasp as it did so.
-
"As the atom bomb locks in..."
He sees that spark light up in your eyes as he finally gives in, just a little bit for you, a faint hum behind his smile. Your hands sweep through his hair, hooking gently around his neck to pull you even closer, lips on his as you, so softly, sing the next words against him...
"O', Yes, it's you, I welcome death with..."
-
He's down on the disgusting, grimy alleyway floor with you in an instant. The ground is already sticky with the average messes of the underground, but it's becoming slick with your blood as he quickly moves your trembling body over.
Seafoam eyes drop to your neck, where blood gushes between the fingers you have clasped tightly over the wound. Every sound you make is wet, trachea beginning to fill with blood as a wheeze sounds, and he sees your blown-wide eyes fill with pure terror at approaching death, as blood rivets from your mouth.
"No, no, we can fix this-" The young man rasping as he tears off his jacket, trying to press it from where the blood is the thickest and hottest as you let out a croak, another choking wheeze as red begins to pool out the side of your mouth. "You're going to be fine,"  He knowingly lies to himself, trying to press down on the wound without cutting off what's left of your airflow.
"Fuck, no! No, you're going to-..." He lets out a growl of frustration and fear as he feels the wet-warmth beginning to build under the fabric of his jacket
-
"As the world..."
Cutting you off with a proper kiss, Silco's hand smooths up from your back to you neck to press you closer, his hum to the song slipping into a different note against your lips.
He... supposes he could see the appeal in this tragedy. Besides it giving the ability to allow him more of your voice, there's something tender in the way of this doomed tune. And some form of hope in his chest at the thought of how wrong it surely is, the world coming crashing down around them...
You pull back, eyes filled with love as you cup his face, and Silco gives an incredibly rare, easy, hopeful smile. No; how could he believe it's going to come crashing down, with you looking at him like that?
-
Wet, shaking red fingers manage up, cupping his face and forcing his eyes from the mortal wound, to yours.
Blood coats your lips, but you still try to smile for him. Acceptance is in your half-closed eyes, even as Silco mindlessly finds his head shaking as he stares at you, begging any force on earth, any gods, you, not to let this happen, not like this...
Your eyes, full of love, glaze over...
-
"...as the world caves in."
No. His world isn't going to come crashing down; together, you're going to change it.
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makeste · 3 years
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BnHA Chapter 301: All My Todorokis
Previously on BnHA: We learned that when a bunch of superpowered villains are suddenly set loose with nobody around to stop them, things get fucked pretty quickly. Old Man Samurai and a bunch of other useless people decided to make “I pretend I do not see it” their new mantra, and resigned. Endeavor had a moment of despair on account of being crushed by the guilt of having ruined the lives of himself, his family, and basically everyone else in the entire world. For various reasons the heretical notion of “person who has done bad things feels sorry for doing them” sent fandom spiraling into a meltdown, so that was fun. The chapter ended with the entire Todoroki clan descending upon Enji’s hospital room to have a dramatic chat about Touya and All That General Fuckery.
Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “here’s the story of how Baby Touya slowly went insane trying to win his father’s love.” It’s a tale full of subverted expectations and heartbreaking inevitability, and also like twenty panels of the cutest fucking kids who ever existed on planet earth, who are so fucking cute that I can’t stop thinking about their cuteness even with all of the horrifying family tragedy unfolding around them. It is absolutely ridiculous how cute they are. Touya is out here pushing his tiny body past its limits because he inherited the same obsession as his dad and neither of them can put it aside even though it’s destroying them, and yet all I can think about is Baby Shouto’s (。・o・。) face. Anyways what a chapter.
so I have to confess that even though I managed to avoid being caught off-guard by the early leaks, the number of people reblogging my Endeavor posts from earlier this week and using the tag “bnha 301” kind of gave me an inkling that this chapter will include more Tododrama lol. that said, I don’t know anything else about it, so we’re still good spoiler-wise
AHHHHH FLAHSBAKC AHHHH. omg I know I typoed the shit out of that, but I’m just going to leave it lol I think it’s fitting
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holy shit holy fuck. so this is Rei and Enji’s first meeting, then??
yepppp, oh shit
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so wait, I know this is not even the slightest bit important, but are they meeting at Enji’s home or Rei’s? because I always figured that Enji was the one with the super-Japanese aesthetic, but maybe that was Rei’s side of the family all along
(ETA: from what I found during my very brief google search, omiai meetings are often held at fancy hotels or restaurants, so maybe that’s what this is.)
there’s such a period drama feel to this setting. like it’s so outrageously formal fff how can anyone stand this kind of atmosphere though seriously
OH THANK GOD
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I mean they’re still stiff af but at least they’re not rigidly sitting in seiza and staring at each other unblinkingly anymore lol. Enji’s actually got his hands in his pockets now. why is this somehow almost cute
oh damn it’s the flowers
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Rei seems so subdued and it’s so hard to get any idea of what she’s actually thinking. I want to see her side of this dammit
but anyway, so at least from Enji’s perspective it seems like even though the marriage was arranged and he picked her because of her quirk, he still loved his wife and wanted to do right by her. the fact that he was watching her and noticed that she liked the flowers, and remembered that detail for all these years -- there’s a reason why Horikoshi’s showing us this. we know what’s going to happen later on; we know how much fear and violence and breaking of trust is coming up ahead, and while it may seem like this scene is serving to soften Enji’s character further -- which to be fair it is -- it also helps drive home the full impact of his abuse. that it’s so terrible not only because of the trauma of the abuse itself, but also because of the way it retroactively destroys all of the good things as well. this could have potentially been such a sweet scene, but it’s inescapably tainted by the knowledge of what’s to come, at least for me. and that’s just brutal
anyways, shit. is the whole chapter going to be like this?? feel free to toss in something I can actually make a joke about sometime, Horikoshi
oop, back to the present
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omfg lol
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“are you all right” “NO I’M NOT ALL RIGHT WHAT THE FUCK.” “oh, right, because of all the stuff that’s happened with me abusing you and you having a mental breakdown and being hospitalized for ten years and then our son coming back to life and killing thirty people, right, right. I almost forgot.” whoops
omfg you guys I’m loving this new and improved steely-eyed Rei. I’m loving her a lot
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and what do you mean “part one” fkjds how long is this going to be. TOO MUCH DRAMA FOR ONE CHAPTER TO HANDLE
oh, hello
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yeah I’ll say you did. didn’t seem to bother you much at the time, though
HMMMMMMMMMMMM
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Dabi Is A Noumu intensifies even further. anyways though would you fucking look at this boy lounging on this moth-eaten couch doing his best DRAW ME LIKE YOUR FRENCH GIRLS impression wtf
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Dabi what if you actually had killed him??? what would you feel?? satisfaction?? regret?? anything at all?? tell me your secrets goddammit
who are you talking to buddy
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Fuyumi-chan, Natsu-kun (is it common for brothers to address each other as -kun?? can’t recall seeing that in many other anime, but hey), and “dot dot dot,,,,,, SHOUTO” lol thank you so much for this bountiful heaping of Tododrama Horikoshi we are blessed
AH, WHAT DID I SAY THE OTHER DAY
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ULTIMATE MELODRAMATIC THEATER CHILD. “I’M JUST GOING TO LIE ON THIS COUCH SHIRTLESS AND ALONE AND MAKE SPEECHES TO MY FAMILY MEMBERS WHO AREN’T THERE AND SAY THINGS LIKE ‘WATCH ME IN THE PITS OF HELL’ WITH A STRAIGHT FACE BECAUSE NO ONE’S THERE TO JUDGE ME.” WELL JOKE’S ON YOU MISTER CHATTERBOX BECAUSE I AM IN FACT JUDGING THE SHIT OUT OF YOU LOL
(ETA: and on a more serious note, it’s interesting to see that “look at me”/”watch me” theme being used again though, because we see that same sentiment uttered repeatedly by the younger Touya in the flashback. well kid, you definitely got your wish at last. don’t know what else to say.)
OKAY HORIKOSHI HAS DECIDED THAT’S ENOUGH FUN, TIME FOR MORE FLASHBACKS
oh my sweet precious lord
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just as cute as we left him. giving us a child this cute when we all know full well what’s going to happen to him is just unspeakably cruel though
HOMG
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I’m fucking speechless. you broke me, congratulations. what am I even supposed to do with this
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I can’t get over this. moving forward my life will be split into two distinct parts, B.P. (Before the Pout) and A.P. (After the Pout)
and meanwhile there’s ALL THIS BACKGROUND ANGST BUILDING UP, AND I CAN’T EVEN FOCUS ON IT. Touya’s arm and cheek are covered in bandages (I’m guessing this is shortly after that “ouch!” panel we got some chapters back), and Enji is deliberately avoiding training with him because he doesn’t want him to hurt himself further. I can’t fucking get over the irony that all this time everyone thought Touya had died because Enji pushed him too far in his training, and it turns out that it’s the opposite -- the tragedy ultimately happened because he didn’t want to push him. but I’m jumping ahead of myself though I guess
by the way,
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remember this?? just wanted to remind you that it exists just in case you forgot
so now someone is talking and basically saying that Touya is the exact opposite of what Enji was hoping for when he decided to start playing with quirk genetics
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-- okay hold up
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...lol no, never mind. for a second I thought “holy shit he looks kind of familiar WHAT IF IT’S UJIKO OMG” before I remembered that Enji would have recognized him during the hospital capture mission if that was the case. so NEVER MIND, PROCEED
IMAGINE THAT, ENJI DOESN’T QUITE SEEM SATISFIED WITH THIS SUGGESTION OF QUITTING NOW
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(ETA: how the fuck did this man go around saving 62 towns in a single day what even is All Might.)
[clicks tongue several times] trouble a’brewin’
MEANWHILE BABY TOUYA HAS UNFORTUNATELY INHERITED HIS DAD’S STUBBORN STREAK
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KLDIHWOEIJFL:KSDJ
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!!!!!!!!!!!
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oh my god. oh my god. what is this chapter. WHAT IS IT
so now Touya is all “YOU JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND MY MANLY DESIRE TO BURN MYSELF ALIVE” well you got her there champ
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THEY’RE TOO CUTE. OH MY GOD. HIS FURIOUS LITTLE TEARS. HER CHUBBY LIL FACE. HIS STUBBY LIL FISTS. SOMEONE HELP ME
also are they just home alone lol or what. “hey Touya, you’re what, like six now?? do us a favor and look after your baby sister for a couple hours for us would you? make sure not to set yourself on fire or anything.” WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG!!
now it’s nighttime and Enji and Rei are arguing, presumably about his decision not to train Touya anymore
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whew. okay. so, a couple of things here
1. first of all I think this conclusively shows that Enji really was trying to do the best he could for Touya. he stopped training him as soon as he realized it was hurting him, but Touya was still determined so he tried to make it work anyway, and even visited doctors to try and figure out if there was anything they could do. then, once they were absolutely sure that it wasn’t going to work, he tried multiple times to explain to Touya why they had to stop. he didn’t just abandon him out of the blue, which is really important to note. “no matter how much I tried telling him...”
so yeah, that debunks another common fandom accusation. so by the time he finally makes this decision, which we all know is going to turn out horribly, it’s basically because he’s already tried everything else he could think of. which, by the way, still doesn’t mean he handled this right. but at the very least he was taking Touya’s feelings into account and he was trying, and he didn’t just abruptly toss his son aside (at least not yet)
2. buuuut, then there’s this panel right below all that
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which is the other side of it. if he’d just quit like the doctor person advised him to, that would have been the end of it. Touya would still have been upset, but he would have eventually gotten over it and the family would have moved on and possibly even been happy. but what happens next happens because Enji can’t let go. he still has this maddening urge to surpass All Might, and so he and Rei keep having more children, and then Shouto is born, and Enji finally has a kid he can start projecting all of his hysterical ambitions onto once again, and everything starts spiraling out of control soon after
though p.s. none of that is Shouto’s fault though!! he’s one of the few good things to come out of this whole mess and I’m very happy that he exists. the tragedy is that his dad fucking lost his mind over his quirk and fucked everything up. but that’s on him, not Touya or Shouto
anyways, SLKFJLSHGLKJL
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I CAN’T FUCKING TAKE THIS YOU GUYS??? LOOK AT THAT LIL BUTTON OF A NOSE??? I’M LOSING IT HERE???
AND TOUYA JUST SEEMS DEVASTATED OMG
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because children aren’t stupid, after all. he understands that his dad is still looking to surpass All Might. and so he feels like a failure, and feels like his dad is trying to replace him because he wasn’t good enough. and even now, isn’t that what the adult Touya is trying to prove?? that he was good enough after all?? “I’ll show you what happens when you give up on me, dad”?? “I’ll show you what I can do”?? fuck my life fuck everything
AND YOU CAN SEE THE TOLL THAT IT’S ALL TAKING ON REI GETTING WORSE AND WORSE AS WELL OH GOD
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really nice touch here with the panel outlines becoming all shimmery from the heat of Endeavor’s flames (and/or becoming more unstable as the family gets closer and closer to their breaking point). but man, Horikoshi I can’t handle this, please show us more cute kids or something I can’t
GKELKWFJLDKSHFLKL
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WITTLE BABE. BEEB. BUBS. SMOL. lkj; oh ouch a piece of my heart just detached and latched onto him huh look at that
TODOROKI “I’M SO SMALL AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT’S GOING ON AND I DIDN’T ASK TO BE HERE” SHOUTO AHHHHH
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crazy how they all just seem to know right off the bat lol. kid doesn’t even have object permanence yet, let alone a quirk. but do they care?? IT’S THE HAIR, RIGHT. WE’RE ALL THINKING IT, I’M JUST GONNA COME OUT AND SAY IT. they knew the minute they looked at him lol
AND MEANWHILE TOUYA IS OFF HAVING UNSUPERVISED TRAINING/CRYING SESSIONS IN THE MOUNTAINS OR WHATEVER, AND, UH OH
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are those blue flames yet?? they seem pretty close
(ETA: this is one of the few cases where the manga being in black and white is infuriating lol.)
OH MY GOD AND STILL
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so it’s not like he was so disinterested that he didn’t notice what was happening, and he was still trying to stop it and get through to him. trying to reassure him that it wasn’t the end of the world and there were other things he could do with his life, but this one particular thing just wasn’t going to happen
fucking hell. it’s agonizing seeing how close they actually were to fixing it. if he’d only said the right words, or if he’d realized at this point how destructive his obsession could be to his kids, and backed off from putting that same pressure on Shouto. we came so close to possibly having a happy ending
AND ALSO THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING BUT PLEASE LOOK AT HOW TOUYA IS LIKE THREE AND A HALF FEET TALL AND HIS DAD IS LIKE NINE AND A HALF FEET. Touya barely comes past his knees flkjlkg. the Todoroki household must have been so filled with like plastic stepstools to reach the bathroom sink and all the little baby toothbrushes, and baby gates to keep the kiddos out of the important grown-up rooms and stuff. and also days-old half-empty cups of water and stale crackers and hot wheels and my little ponies strewn everywhere
“BUT EVERYONE AT SCHOOL SAYS THEY’RE GONNA BE HEROES” a wild Deku parallel appears?? how bout that
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I know this is like a pivotal moment in the Todo Tragedy and all, but fucking look at this lil dumpling
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“sup bro, it’s me, the manifestation of your fears of inadequacy and lack of fatherly affections. a GAAA. ba-baAA-baa [gurgling baby sounds]”
OHHHHH IT’S THE SOUND OF MY HEART BREAKING OH NO
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HE WANTS TO BE LIKE YOU ENJI. good lord somebody please just get this family some therapy
“DAD YOU IGNITED IT IN ME” flkjslkj nope, nope. not ready for this pain here
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baby Shouto, would you like to weigh in on this affair? “DA!! ba-ga-daaa, [pacifier chewing noises]” oh my, you don’t say. so insightful for one so young
OH MY GODDDDDD
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IT’S SO DRAMATIC BUT ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT ARE THE SHOUNEN WOOSH LINES SURROUNDING FOUR-MONTH-OLD SHOUTO LOL HE WAS LIKE THIS FROM BIRTH OH MY GOD I AM DYING HELP
SHOUTO YOU’RE RUINING THIS ENTIRE CHAPTER!?!?!
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“yo, the fuck kind of family was I fucking born into” oh, son. if you only knew. IF YOU ONLY KNEW!!
(ETA: lmao I got so distracted by the ridiculous cuteness that I glossed over the fact that Baby Touya seems to possibly be aiming at him?? it’s hard to tell because he’s also super out of it from heatstroke and may just be losing control in his attempt to show off his upgrade.)
ANYWAY THAT’S THE END EXCEPT WHAT’S THIS LAST LINE OMG
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ffffff. and we’re in for ANOTHER chapter of this next week?? MORE drama?? MORE BABIES?? MORE OF EIGHT-YEAR-OLD TOUYA’S SLOW DESCENT INTO MADNESS. MY HEART CAN’T TAKE IT, BUT ALSO YES PLEASE SIGN ME UP
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Twisted Wonderland zombie apocalypse headcanons-First year edition-
Feel free to request more scenarios! (its free)
Sebek Zigvolt ⚡️ 🐎
60% chance of survival.
No offense but shut up.
His “quiet voice” just summons zombies.
He makes up for it (kinda) in strength.
Will abandon anyone but y/n If Malleus is anywhere near zombies.
“Sebek, Istg. If you don’t quiet down I’m throwing you out of the dorm to the zombies.” “THIS IS MY QUIET VOICE Y/N”
..... he wasn’t throw out don’t worry. But, he did have to eat lilia’s leftover homemade lasagna.
Epel Felmier ☠️ 🍎
Ooooh boy.
70% of survival, but can change to 20% real quick.
Has secretly been preparing for this his whole life.
The moment zombie apocalypse is official, all hell breaks lose. Welcome full time brash country boy.
10/10 will attempt to start a fist fight with a zombie at least once.
Will lose, please stop him.
Smh.
“Y/N! I can take em! Lemme at em!!” “Epel! For the last time! Punching a zombie does nothing! I’m getting Vil.” “Wait Y/N no!”
Deuce Spade ♠️ 👮🏻
90% chance of survival
This number is solely due to his delinquent days.
He tries. He really does.
The moment a zombie goes anywhere near y/n, he drops whatever he was doing to come save them. WHATEVER he was doing.
Great seven forbid a zombie steps on an egg.
Actually a really good fighter.
“Y/N!!! I’m coming!!” “Deuce! Get back to guarding the entrance! The zombie is on the other side of the fence!”
.... Enter Ace screaming because Deuce left his post. (No Ace’s were harmed in the making of this head canon.)
Ace Trappola ♥️
20% chance of survival. At most.
Useless.
I mean, he’s a brat even in the zombie apocalypse.
10/10 will hide right behind someone while denying it.
His wind magic is kind of helpful...? But one time he accidently sent a zombie flying over the fence.
“Don’t worry Deuce! I got this one!” “ Wait Ace no- he’s on the other side-” “AAAAAAH ACEEEE!!! YOU LIL SHIT!” whoops.
Jack Howl 🐺
100% chance of survival.
Most likely to win a fight.
One time he beat a group of zombies in a fist fight.
Never leaves anyone behind.(Only reason Ace is still alive)
He’s the scavenger of the group. 
His wolf senses basically make him Over Powered in this place.
Has literally threw y/n over his shoulder and ran away from a horde of zombies.
“Jack put me down! I can run on my own!” “No chance. I’m not losing you.” */////*
Grim 🔥 🦝
Uhhhhhh
Trash Panda’s fire is helpful.
Aside from that one time he accidently lit the camp on fire.
Like Ace, will hide behind y/n while pretending not to be scared.
“Grim. Get off my back.” “I’m just protecting you from behind, y/n!” “....Grim... why do i smell burning?” “Uh oh.”
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shorkbrian · 3 years
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Prelude - Idek man I’m a sucker for a lil bondage. Reminder!!! Coercive sex, or any sex where there isn’t any consent, is no-no!!!!! that is rape you guys! this type of behavior where a respected authority figure takes is absolutely not cool under any circumstances. I can’t believe that this is something that I have to make clear, but I don’t condone any of these actions, nor do I support this behavior, or any behavior that’s similar.
Pairing - Aizawa X Reader
Warnings - NSFW (no penetration), noncon, dub con, fingering, abuse of power, 
Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/4TQcARE7Fd58akNhr3N7AE?si=ffl2jJviRAyVzK3QtU85Jg
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You’re a hero he’s being forced to work with, even though technically he isn’t supposed to have an agency, and technically, he’s supposed to work alone.
Apparently your superiors decided to ignore those two facts, practically dumping you on top of him the second school lets out.
You’re adorable, all fresh faced and young, full of hope and energy and everything that he’s not. Aizawa tries to get out of it, arguing with your superiors while you just stand there watching, but ultimately, he leaves with you trailing behind him.
Tonight, it would seem he’d be working with you.
The whole way downtown you talk his ear off, chattering just like Hizashi does when he’s extra nervous - except, you don’t seem to be nervous.
No, you’re excited, bragging about your accomplishments, your skills. How many villains you’ve turned in, how many civilians you’ve saved. Aizawa quickly gets irritated by your incessant yapping, how you sit there and boast about how good of a hero you are.
From what he can tell, you haven’t been a hero long.
There aren’t any noticeable scars on your form, and if there were, your flashy, skin-tight outfit would’ve exposed them, just like it’s exposing you. It’s impractical, illogical, leaving your skin open to cuts and burns and any other sort of attack.
Plus, it’s distracting. He figures it’s designed to get better ratings from male viewers, to get the videos of you rescuing civilians or taking down low-ranking villains more views. 
You don’t watch your surroundings as intently as Aizawa does - a woman sniffles in an alleyway as the two of you pass by, and Aizawa’s immediately on high alert at the sound, looking for potential traps or incoming enemies. You didn’t even register the sound. 
Thankfully, you’re not as loud as Hizashi, and when Aizawa holds his hand up to signal you to shut up, you do, immediately clamping you mouth shut with an audible click. At least you can follow orders.
You have no idea of stealth, footsteps falling heavy as you walk, swinging your arms jauntily and seemingly uncaring of who sees you. It makes Aizawa’s blood boil. You sit there, patting yourself on the back about what a good hero you are, yet you’re barely better than a bad sidekick. A sidekick Aizawa wouldn’t-doesn’t  want tagging along.
After the third time of you bumping into him after he’s stopped to listen to the sounds of the city, high on the rooftops, Aizawa wants to give you a pinch, scold you for not being ready for hero work, tell you the truth about your “skills” and how good of a hero you really are.
But he’s a patient man, and he knows how to calm his irritation by taking deep breaths. Lord knows his students test his resolve to resort to corporal punishment, so he should reign himself in from considering using it with you. Still, you’re an annoying, young little thing - excited and prideful, trying to show off to the older hero.
Aizawa can deal with it though, as long as he ignores your blunders.
The way you talk too much, how you don’t pay attention, the way you constantly bump into him because you haven’t realized he’s stopped in his tracks. You’re foolish.
It’s not until you almost push him off the edge of a building with your mindless blundering does Aizawa lose his patience.
The man rounds on you, blood pumping quick and fast in his heart from the adrenaline of teetering over the edge, feeling himself about to fall. He probably could’ve caught himself with his capture weapon, but what if he hadn’t? Your stupid mistake could’ve cost him his life, his career.
It takes him less than a second to have your wrists tangled up in his capture weapon, dragging you towards him so he can tower over you, fisting a hand in your hair.
“You’re a shitty hero.” Is all he says, pushing you to the side. Aizawa knows that will sting more than anything else he could say - it’s obvious that you look up to the older man. He wouldn’t put it past you to be the one who begged your agency to dump you on him for the night, so you could talk to him, learn some trade secrets, gush to your little hero friends how you were “trained” by Eraserhead himself.
He’s expecting you to be indignant, to try and argue your case. What he’s not expecting, is for you to attack him as soon as he retracts his capture weapon back onto his neck.
It’s almost laughable, how bad you are at fighting. He can hear you run at him, anticipates the first swing you take at his back, easily tucks forward and out of your reach. When he turns, you're standing there, chest heaving (Your suit really doesn’t leave anything to the imagination, does it? He wonders if it’s something your agency chose, or if it’s a personal preference) as you stare at him with a fire in your eyes.
“You have no right to say that to me.” You grind out, before running at him again.
Now that Aizawa can see you, it’s even easier to dodge your attack, ducking and blocking each punch or kick with ease. “I wouldn’t even want you for a sidekick. You’re sloppy-”
He jabs his fist into your side, and you let out a pained gasp.
“Poorly trained-”
A quick backhand across your face sends you reeling, and Aizawa sighs. He didn’t even put that much force behind it.
“Dangerously prideful-”
His capture weapon whips around your legs, tangling them and pulling them right out from under you. Aizawa moves to yours side, crouching by your head so he can see your eyes.
“And unfit to be a hero.”
You’re winded, but despite that, you thrash, infuriated by the words. You try to strike out at Aizawa, but you find yourself quickly wrapped up in his capture weapon, immobilized. 
“Instead of doing important work, trying to keep this city safe, I have to deal with an arrogant brat.”
Aizawa stands up, using his capture weapon to drag you to your feet as well. He takes less than a moment to stride to the edge of the building, pulling you along with him, making you stumble.
With a flick of his wrist, you’re leaning out over the edge, the only thing stopping you from falling being Aizawa’s capture weapon wrapped around your wrists, lacing over your chest, holding you back.
He hears you squeak in fear, watches you go completely still as he holds you there, lets you feel the fear of being dangled above the edge, flirting with the height.
“You saw how easy it was for me to subdue you, how easily you yielded. How do you even beat villains?” Aizawa clicked his tongue. “I’m worried about the future of this city if you’re what we have to offer in terms of a hero.”
You tensed up, obviously hurt by the words. Aizawa felt no remorse - he truly was disquieted when faced with the knowledge that people like you were the next generation of peace-keepers.
With a jerk jerk, you were yanked away from the edge, landing on your butt, air whooshing out of your lungs in a gasp. Aizawa crouched down behind you, leaning close, letting you feel the heat of his body.
“Do you know what would happen if a villain had you tied up like this?”
You quickly shook your head, silent. Aizawa almost wanted to laugh, how were you this naive? 
He let his hands rest on your shoulders, let them slowly slide down to your exposed collarbones, further, down to the tops of your breasts.
“Stop... please...” You whispered, frozen.
Aizawa huffed. “A villain wouldn’t stop. You’d be powerless against one. I doubt the “villains” you’ve been taking down could even be classified as such.” 
He let his hands drop even further, until he could feel the weight of your breasts in his hands, thinly covered by your costume.
“Let me guess, they’ve all been petty criminals? Bicycle thieves... pickpockets... People who accidentally let the parking meter run out?” He chuckled.
Aizawa kneaded your tits, the warm flesh pliant, soft, delicious. Your nipples were hardening under his touch, pressing against your suit, peaking into solid shapes against your chest. He let his touch focus on them, rolling and pinching the little buds until you were whining beneath his hands, squirming in discomfort as he played with your tits.
“A real villain would have so much fun with you. You’d be so easy, so effortless to hold down. They could do whatever they wanted to you.” He purred into your ear.
You relaxed when Aizawa pulled his hands away, stood up to circle around to your front. You thought he was done, thought he would let you free from his capture weapon. You thought wrong. 
The man sat down in front of you, leaning back easily onto his ankles. You were quickly pulled into his lap, crying out at the way he jerked you closer to him, until your fronts were pressed together, until he was pinching and massaging your plump rear.
“What a shame, loosing an untrained hero to a villain. If you’re really unlucky, they won’t kill you once they’re finished with your body.” Aizawa watched you shiver. “No, they’ll keep you alive, and in the clutches of evil men? that’s much, much worse than death.”
Your suit exposed your legs, had a short, flashy skirt that barely covered your ass. Underneath, a flimsy leotard protected your modesty, easily pulled to the side.
A panicked whine tore from your lungs as you felt Aizawa’s thick finger ghost along your folds, rubbing the delicate flesh, acquainting himself with the feel of a tender young body. 
The hand on your ass was still groping, squeezing and pulling you impossibly closer, until you have to turn your face to the side, chin hooking over the man’s shoulder. Aizawa nuzzled your neck, breathing in the subtle scent that covered your body, some type of perfume, a scent he couldn’t place, but pleasant nonetheless. 
When he felt wetness slowly beginning to seep from your cunt, Aizawa grinned, rolling his eyes. You would be eaten up by a villain, completely destroyed. 
He slipped his pointer finger inside, circling his thumb against your clit as he did so, shushing your frightened noises at the unexpected intrusion.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if a villain targeted you. With a costume like this? Your obvious inexperience? The way you boast and brag about what a big girl you are, how proficient you are at taking down big, bad criminals?”
Another finger slipped inside, stretching you wide. You were so warm, so soft, squeezing his fingers like you were trying to suck him in. It was almost like your pussy was desperate for more, aching for something bigger. 
But Aizawa had standards, morals. He just wanted to scare you a bit, not ruin you completely. 
With two fingers inside of you, he stroked along your velvety walls, searching for the special little spot he knew would make you squeal. You were trembling, draped against his body like a rag doll, hips twitching ever so slightly when he did something you liked.
He tapped your clit again with his thumb, and you stifled a moan. Aizawa resisted the urge to smile; you were so easy.
As his fingers explored your cunt, probing and stretching and scissoring you open, he let his lips attach onto your neck. He could let himself indulge a little - after all, your agency had insisted you come along, even after he told them no.
With a shrill cry, you bucked into his hand, trying to press your hips down further. Aizawa hooked his fingers again, pressing down on the spot he had just rubbed with his fingers, and you yelped again, rocking down, fucking yourself against his thick digits.
He found it.
Starting slowly, the man began fingerfucking you, making sure to hit the spongy, sensitive spot that had you moaning and crying, shaking in his arms.
He found himself quickly loosing patience, especially with the way you wiggled and fidgeted in his lap, trying to chase the sensation his fingers provided.
With no warning (not that he’d given you one once throughout this experience), Aizawa went from his slow, gentle pace, to one that made his forearm flex, one that made your back arch and your toes curl in those impractical, stupid high heels.
You were quickly reduced to mush, able to do nothing but let Aizawa fuck you to tears with his fingers, driving you closer and closer to the edge. He could feel it, how you were almost there. You clenched down on his fingers, sweat shined across your skin, you were absolutely gushing with your creamy wetness, the liquid sliding down his hand and soaking into his pants.
Messy.
Another few quick, hard flicks of his wrist, and suddenly you were squirting, forcing his fingers out of your pussy, writhing from the stimulation. A stream of wet was forced out of you, spraying all over his pants, his hand, the concrete of the rooftop. 
Your legs shook with the force of it, eyes rolling back in your head. Aizawa knew  you were lost in pleasure, so far gone you couldn’t do much but moan and gurgle brokenly as you slowly came down from your orgasm.
He let you lean against him for a few moments longer, let you pant into his ear, felt your sweaty skin stick to his own. 
But he was tired, and he wanted to finish patrolling, and you were barely more than a nuisance, and he needed to find somewhere to jerk off.
He wasn’t a rapist, after all.
So with gentle hands, Aizawa untied you from his capture weapon, slowly sliding you off his lap and onto the ground. He gave you a few moments to collect yourself, rising to his feet to turn and give you privacy as you righted your costume, smoothed down your frazzled appearance, caught your breath.
He was so hard.
When you finally joined his side, you were meek, quiet, subdued. Aizawa barely glanced at you (If he did, he might do something he’d regret, not that he already hasn’t) before striding forward, moving with purpose towards the next roof top.
Hopefully, you’d learned your lesson, and wouldn’t run your mouth so much.
Hopefully, you’d train harder, try to strengthen your fighting style.
Hopefully, Aizawa found somewhere he could jerk off, before his primal urges coerced him into doing something more befitting of a villain.
If that happened, it wasn’t that big of a deal. It’s not like you would tell anyone.
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dahliax · 4 years
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Sokka having a fight with reader but it ends up being really fluffy when they both apologize 🥺 and can it include “I didn’t mean to yell at you,” while he cooks the reader pancakes thank you and goodnight
Omg hi!!! this is my first ask so I’m a lil nervous but I really reallllyyy hope you like it! I reread it like 10 times to make sure it was okay 😂💗
Sokka x fem!Reader
Warnings: fluff and a lil angst
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The gaang couldn’t deny that both you and Sokka had quite the attitudes. But that’s what made your friendship strong in a way. Occasionally you butted heads, like right now. Everybody was getting the campsite ready for the night and Sokka was acting off for some reason.
“Sokka, is there anything I can do to help?” You say sweetly, trying to calm the tension radiating off of him. But he ignored you making your heart fall. You knew he might be upset from your most recent battle with the Fire Nation. You made it out barely alive, pain from the burn on your arm reminding you. It wasn’t anything Katara couldn’t fix in a few days with healing, but you’d definitely have a scar.
Sokka was collecting wood to start a fire and now he was having trouble lighting it. “Are you sure you don’t want my help Sokka?” You said again placing a soft hand on his shoulder while he hovered over the branches he collected.
He huffed and turned around so quick you barely seen him move. “How are you so clueless!” He yells straight in your face. You step back, heart racing from Sokka’s anger. He never talked to you like this. “W-what?” You barely squeaked out.
“You threw yourself into that fight like your life meant nothing! You could’ve died!” He yelled even louder. Katara and Aang could probably hear him from the shore while they were collecting clean water. “I think my fighting capabilities are just fine! Can’t I ever make a mistake Sokka?!”
“We can’t afford mistakes right now y/n! If I wouldn’t have came to get you who knows what would have happened! They could have tortured you to death! Or even worse-“ he stopped when he sees the tears well up in your eyes.
“Well then I guess I’m just not good enough to fight with Team Avatar anymore. I understand, I’ll leave in the morning” you say sadly turning around to head to your tent finally letting the tears flow once you lied on your cot. You really didn’t want to leave, you loved all your friends. And you especially loved Sokka, so if he thought you weren’t fit to fight you would believe him.
Back at the fire Sokka was still having trouble starting the fire. Soon Aang and Katara come running from the trees startled by all the yelling. “What’s going on?” Katara asked Sokka. “Y/N is leaving tomorrow..I yelled at her for getting hurt today” he said trailing off.
“Why would you do that? That was the perfect distraction for Aang to give the final blow. Yes, it came at a cost but she truly saved us all” Katara said in her ‘mom’ voice. (It’s adorable honestly) “Yeah Sokka she is right. Maybe you should go apologize and try to convince her to stay. Because we all know that’s not what you or the rest of us want” Aang said trying not to get too angry with Sokka.
Sokka simply nodded and walked slowly to your tent with his head down. ‘What am I going to say? She won’t forgive me after saying that,’ he takes a deep breath and opens the door to see you curled up in a ball on your cot. Sokka’s heart shattered, how could he have done this to you? Your beautiful face looked so painful as the tears slowly made it to your chin he couldn’t take it anymore.
“Y/N-“
“I don’t wa-want to hear it,” she says putting her hand on her chest, feeling so overwhelmed.
“No y/n please hear me out!” He dropped to his knees infront of the cot, tears starting to fall from his own eyes. “Fine” She said finally opening her eyes, they were bloodshot and her lips were swollen from crying. But Sokka always thought she looked gorgeous, even if she was crying.
“I-I don’t want you to go! I didn’t mean to yell at you! I love you more than anyone else here! I can’t fight without you by my side. So I think it’s time I told you the truth. I got so mad because I love you so much and I didn’t want to lose you. I wasn’t there to protect you like I should have. And I made you feel like it was your fault, when really it was mine” he admitted looking down letting his tears fall more freely. Y/N never seen Sokka cry before, he always tried to act tough.
“S-Sokka..” she trailed off feeling weak. “No no it’s okay you don’t have to feel the same way or forgive me I’ll leave you alon-“ he starts but stops when he feels your cold hand pulling on his. “I love you too” she said timidly looking into his blue ocean eyes. Sokka was completely taken back, never thinking she’d actually like him back. “You know what would make me feel better...” you say trailing off. “What? Anything you want sweetheart,” Sokka sprinkled in his favorite nickname for you, now meaning so much more to you as the butterflies flew around in your stomach. 
“A kiss... and some of your yummy pancakes...” and as soon as you said that, his lips were on yours and his thumbs reached to your cheeks wiping away all the tears. The feeling was indescribable, his lips drawing you in for more and more. Unable to get enough of him you pulled him closer, wanting to savor the moment forever.
He pulled back, “Now come help me start this fire so I can make you pancakes,”
Aaaah! I had so much fun writing this!! I hope it’s okay!! Feel free to send me more requests!
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Odysseus
yandere shouto x reader, background shinsou x reader
summary; im a lil too obsessed with greek myth and purple prose and shouto’s too obsessed with u. peep the title if u still dont know what this is abt
tw; blood, death
word count; 2.6k
X
the cast
of course, we have our brave and guileful hero, Todoroki Shouto, as Odysseus himself, Nobody, King of Ithaca, and Son of Laertes. you play the role of sweet Penelope, Helen’s pretty mortal cousin. brash Antinous is portrayed by Yoarashi Inasa. and Shinsou Hitoshi is our silver-tongued Eurymachus
the first glance
Shouto first comes for the hand of your demi-god cousin, Helen, who is said to rival Aphrodite in beauty. you don’t like this farce your uncle puts on, summoning men from all over Greece to compete for Helen’s hand in marriage; she is still a child, only 16, and with no say in her future. still, you think, rather guiltily, better her than you. you do your best to avoid the suitors who come in hope of Helen’s hand, lest the see you and decide that they would like a consolation prize. downward gazes, veiled hair, and thick, draping robes all help to deflect attention, and you mange to pass unnoticed for the first couple weeks. all of this changes when he arrives. it’s said that nothing escapes his watchful gaze, and when his icy eyes sweep over you, you can feel yourself freeze as you pull your shawl just a little closer. he pauses for a fraction of a second, and yet you are unimaginably relieved when he moves on to inspect the crowd of nobles gathered in the corner
the pursuit
that night, you appear only as needed for the festivities before hurrying off to your rooms to weave. you’re rushing through one of the more abandoned hallways, preferring to walk a little extra rather than run into a drunk man, and when you turn the corner, room in view, Shouto stops you. maybe stop is too vague of a word; rather, he cages you in, not only with a casual hand against the wall, but also societal niceties. you desperately want to push him away, run for the refuge of your room, but to do so would be to slight all of Ithaca and bring his wrath down on your father. Shouto knows this, too. he tries to woo you first, honeyed words and a silver tongue, but you’re the daughter of a king. you’re used to gold. he tells you that the minute he saw you hiding away in the corners of shadows that his heart would beat for no other, and that he had to have you no matter what it took. 
‘such a delicate thing, whose humble beauty is overshadowed by your cousin’s,’ he says. it doesn’t escape your notice how docile he makes you out to be, and while you were raised to be demure and refined lady, if Shouto really thinks you’re going to sit back and let him take you away, he’s wrong. he seems to sense the little fire of rebellion deep within you, but rather than putting him off, it only stokes his desire. lust flares in his eyes, and from that moment onward you know that you’ve trapped yourself in an obsessive relationship
the snare
Shouto leaves Tyndareus’ house with an alliance of the Greek city states and your hand in marriage. his quick wit and silver tongue allows him to secure the visiting nobles into a united agreement; Tyndareus will choose a husband for Helen, and all other men must leave without quarrel, and come when called upon. in return, Tyndareus will support Shouto in his pursuit of you. you know who the man is before your uncle even speaks, for in your agreement to marry Shouto, you asked that he might provide a kind and worthy man as Helen’s spouse. once again Helen lords over your life, but you cannot find it within yourself to hate her for it. after all, she is but a mere child, still too young to understand that her beauty is not really hers, that her life will always be in the hands of other men. still, one could argue that you are but a child, too. the ceremony is beautiful; you wear a dress of the finest fabric, a material softer and finer and lighter than any sort of linen you have ever encountered but one that Shouto assures you is worth it’s weight in gold. if he thinks to buy your love with material goods, you’ll allow yourself to be spoiled but you will never part with your affection willingly. at least, that’s what you think. Shouto has other plans
the early years
even from the beginning Shouto’s love is overbearing and extreme, but he’s a powerful king who treats you well and kept your cousin safe so there’s not much you can complain about. you’re just barely out of childhood, children who have been burdened with great power and yet the love and devotion he looks at you with is unparalleled. you have a feeling that he would fight even the gods to keep you. he’s kind and considerate; for the first two years of marriage he neither beds you nor tries do, despite the pressure he must feel to produce an heir and the weight of your family’s expectations. these gifts, these personal liberties he allows you to have, the way he lets you roam the island at your own leisure, this is why you fall in love with him. it’s odd; you never thought you would love the stoic king of Ithaca, but it seems that Aphrodite has other plans for you. on your twentieth birthday, you welcome him into your bed for the first time, and less than a month later, you discover that you are with child. it’s the next turning point in your marriage
the worse years
after the birth of Telemachus, Shouto’s love changes once again. once forgiving and relaxed about your interactions with others, he seeks to hide you away for only himself to see. the worst is when men approach you. it does not matter what their intentions are, nor their age nor stature nor standing; Shouto claims that his heart beats only for you, and thus yours should beat only for him. his demands to know where you’ve been and who you’ve talked to become more and more intense, until the island loses it’s queen. you are a prisoner in your own home, with Shouto smothering you in love, spending the whole of his day just lounging with you while he addresses kingly matters. bitterly, you think how you have never had any power to your name, not the way that men do and not the way that Shouto does. your rooms are nothing but a gilded cage, and you are almost glad when he is summoned for war. almost. after all, you do love the soft, kind boy that he once was
the war
throughout the war, you hear of your husband’s exploits. his bravery, his cunning, his skill. whenever you do not hear about him, your heart aches in fear, though you do not know if you wish him alive or dead. a year after the way has ended, when Helen has been reunited with Menelaus again, when Agamemnon is dead and Cassandra gone, when Aeneas has set sail for New Iliium, not yet Rome, the suitors come trickling in. at first, you do not know what to do, for festivities and mean both ceased to exist within the palace walls after the birth of your son. two catch your eye, bold Antinous, known as Inasa, sweet beyond his brash exterior, and sly Eurymachus, whose wit you see in your husband and whose charm is only his own. by the end of the second year after the fall of Troy, it is obvious who your heart beats for. the sight of purple sets your heart alight, and his small smiles are as sweet as the finest honey. you wonder if this is how Odysseus felt when he first saw you. 
‘call me Hitoshi’, he says, and the way it rolls off your tongue is a sign that this love was meant to be. he asks for your hand in marriage three times. each time a flash of red and white causes your throat clog with fear, and though you know that you deny him out of protection, it makes the tears no less painful. even the loss of your husband cannot set you free
the reprieve 
after Hitoshi’s third proposal, you set about weaving a shroud for your vanished lover. each day you weave ten rows, and each night you unravel five more. the sun-drenched days you spend with your violet-haired lover only fuel a blazing passion within you, but when he is gone, when you are alone in a cold room meant for two, the icy gaze of your husband haunts you, and you cannot help but delay the inevitable once more. you will bury your love, one day. you just cannot find the courage now. in the end of the fifth year after the fall of Troy, you finish the shroud. 
Hitoshi is too respectful to rejoice, but you can see the relief in his eyes that you have finally put the memory of your husband to rest. plans are made, friends contacted, and suitors long vacated return to your halls in preparation of a beautiful wedding. the palace swells with life once more, the boisterous laughter of the men filling the halls and driving away the cold of the night. when night falls, you rest your head against Hitoshi’s chest, his arm slung carelessly across your shoulders, and you listen to the steady sound of his heartbeat, and rejoice in the constancy of his love. 
where Shouto is the sun, bright and brilliant and life giving, but prone to flares of temper and burning those his affections focus on, Hitoshi is the moon; silver-tongued and soft, reflecting the radiance of others and giving the world a gentle glow. yet, despite your happiness, despite the love and life that is promised, you cannot help but feel a pit of worry in your gut
the unraveling 
not more than a week after the former suitors’ arrival, your anxieties are confirmed in the form of a beggar. he is naught but an old man, merely claiming to know of the great king Odysseus, yet you cannot help but lean away from Hitoshi, your lover, and sit as if unhappy with the festivities. something about your mysterious visitor doesn’t sit right with you, and when he proclaims that Odysseus has escaped death, you know why. Inasa laughs, the scent of wine and honey heavy on his breath, and declares Odysseus dead. 
‘his wife has burned the shroud she wove, not more than a month ago. dead men do not return five years after their fall.’ you want nothing more than to silence him, fear brewing in your stomach, and you are too busy giving panicked glances to your dear friend to notice how the stranger’s eyes train on you alone. a curt nod affirms Inasa’s statement, and your voice is steady when you answer. 
‘less than a moon ago I laid the memory of my husband to rest. it has been ten long years, five years too long for a living man to return.’ you say this, and yet, you cannot wonder if this is a test . who is this man who claims to know of your husband, whose eyes burn like ice against your skin? you have to know, and perhaps it is your curiosity that causes your downfall
the slaughter 
when the guests wake the next day, you propose a challenge. it’s selfish of you, borne out of a need for reassurance, a need to know that your husband truly is dead and that your love lives and will remain living. the great bow of Odysseus, only to be strung and shot by the man himself, is brought out, and forty axes are planted in the great hall. 
‘this bow was my husbands, may his soul rest in Hades, and it was said that only he could wield it. who among you will try?’ man after man step up, failing good naturedly and patting Hitoshi on the back when he too does the same. you don’t mind his inability to wield the bow; in fact, it comforts you that your husband has been laid to rest, that his memory will not live on even in his weapons. then, the beggar from last night comes forward, and though you know that the decrepit body of his will be unable to sustain the force needed to even string the bow, fear runs thick in your blood. it is like you have been struck by Zeus, watching as the stranger strings the bow with ease, before launching an arrow straight through the great axes in the hall. your husband stands, and shakes off the illusion like a fur coat. 
‘my love’ is all he says, and before you can react there’s an arrow buried in Agelaus’ heart and an expression of horror burned into his face. he orders you to the bedroom, your shared bedroom, but you stand still in shock, unable to move as he slaughters the men you have called friends in the very place you once called a prison. soon, far too quickly, there is none left save for brave Inasa and your lover Hitoshi. the look of disgust on your husband’s face as he rounds on Inasa, sword drawn, is unimaginable. 
‘you come into my house, flaunt the rules of xenia, court my wife, and desire mercy? you will have no justice except for the bite of my blade.’ Inasa dies inelegantly, loud voice lost in a fountain of blood pouring from his throat. as Shouto stalks towards Hitoshi, it as all you can do to throw yourself around your lover, despite your please, Hitoshi steps out from behind you, hands placating and silver tongue spilling words of peace and goodwill. you want to tell him that silver tongues fail against tongues of gold, but it is too late and in the end all you can do is hold your love as the life bleeds from his eyes, forgiving and gentle to the very end
the ruins
the hem of your fine silk dress is soaked in blood when Shouto pulls you into his embrace, and you call brokenly for the servants to keep your son from seeing the carnage. he should never have to know the monster that his father is. as you look into his face, worn by the horrors of war and lined by time, you cannot help but hope that this is not your husband who has just perpetuated such a crime, that the soft red and white haired boy you once knew is dead, and a god holds you in their arms instead. 
it’s a desperate, last ditch attempt to save the face of a man who once brought the life of Ithaca to you, and when you ask him to prove that he is Odysseus, that he is Shouto, your husband, you hope that he cannot speak anything but lies and half truths. he asks what you would want to hear from him, and you tell him that you have tired of sleeping alone and would like him to move to the bed in your bridal chamber, as only Odysseus himself would be able to lift it. 
Shouto smiles, the years slipping off his face, and for a second you’re staring into the eyes of a man who helped your cousin, a man who waited two years to even touch you because he wanted to respect your decision to love him at your own pace, the man who gave you your greatest joy, Telemachus. he strokes your hair, love clouding his beautiful eyes, and tells you that it cannot be done, for he built the bed himself around a living olive tree. your heart sinks in disappointment, and you know that no divinity stands before you, only a god of a man. as you fall into his arms and sob, he holds you close, arms just a little too tight as he whispers soft comforts in your ear. 
‘I am home, my love, and you have been here, waiting faithfully for me’
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finn-ray-nal-beads · 3 years
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I can’t wait for all your depraved stories around the garbage fire tonight! How about mixing and matching some fun kinks with your AUs of shame! Breeding kink, exhibitionism, biting/bruising/marking kink. Who’s most in to what?
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@safarigirlsp OMFG I OWE YOU ALL THE GARBAGE TONIGHT HOLY SHIT IT’S BEEN A MINUTE SINCE I WROTE SOME CRACK THOTS ON THESE BOIS I MISSED THEM!🥴
LET’S START OFF WITH THE BIG BAD GUNS HIMSELF... MY PIRATE KING FLIP BLOWHOLE CAPTAIN OF THE FUCKING JOLLY ROGER AND THE BLACK PEARL BECAUSE THIS IS FUCKIN’ FAN FICTION SO WE MAY AS WELL FUCKIN’ LET ALL THE PIRATE JOKES SWIRL TOGETHER IN A GODDAMN WHIRLPOOL OF DESPAIR!
 Captain Phillip “Blowhole” Zimmerman is a simple man... he loves the sea, his ship is his baby, rum is his bestie (not including his First Mate, Ron), and he loves to fuck you into absolute oblivion in front of Davey Jones and the entire crew of scallywags daring to eyeball you in passing.
Any time he get’s a hint of another wandering eye looking down that cinched corset dress of yours, gazing at your heaving bosom practically spilling overboard in your corset, he inches a finger in your direction.
Perched upon his captain’s wheel, one knee up like Captain Morgan himself, he coaxes you to him, the more you inch closer, the more his nostrils fill with your sweet coconut scent. 
“Captain?” putting your hands behind your back, shoving your tits out to his hungry gaze, “is something wrong?” playing as dumb as possible to get him even more riled up than he had been seconds prior. 
“You know exactly what you’re doing, lil’ whore,” he spat, burning holes into your eyes as his ambered eyes turned to a raging fire, “assume your goddamn position, slut, I’m gonna make another example outta you seeing as how you and my fuckin’ crew didn’t get it the last few times,” grabbing your waist to thrust you over the banister of the ship, his crew halting their work to watch the show unfold. 
“Look at you,” smoothing over the curve of your ass in the dress, flipping it over to reveal your naked, sopping cunt, “fuckin’ slut!” slapping the shit out of your pussy, causing an ungodly wail to emanate from your vocal cords. 
“You must like being an example to my crew, huh?” gripping your curls in his hand to wrench your neck back, his low growl in your ear causing more liquid to seep from your pulsing cunt. 
“Anything to please you, Captain,” smirking while you pushed your backside to rub on his pants, “I live to serve,” pandering to match his low growl, no doubt feeling his erection rub against your ass. 
“In fact,” pushing yourself flush to his chest, hand still in a death grip on your head as he lowered his face into the crook of your neck, sucking the life out of your pulse, “I think you like makin’ an example outta me, sailor,” snaking a hand to rub his aching erection as his breath hitched from your grip. 
“I’m gonna storm your fuckin’ shores until your wailin’ on my cock sweetheart,” gripping your throat with one hand and batting your hand away to take his cock out of his pants and stuff it fully in, no foreplay necessary seeing as you were soaked as the ocean itself. 
“So. Fuckin’. Bratty.” he thrust in, enunciating his words as you moaned on his large whale cock into complete bliss. 
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NOW ONTO OUR NOBLE AND GLISTENING WARRIOR HERO... THIS IS SPARTA. IT’S NO SECRET THAT THIS MAN IS WELL-ENDOWED, AND WITH GREAT POWER, COMES GREAT RESPONSIBILITY, AKA, HE’S GONNA FUCK AS MANY SONS INTO YOU AS YOU’LL GIVE HIM AND YOU WON’T FUCKIN’ COMPLAIN ABOUT IT EITHER BECAUSE YOU’RE A FUCKIN’ WHORE FOR HIS HORSECOCK!
He’ll be coming back from a warrior training camp, fuckin’ shimmering in the Spartan evening light, clad in his gear, wielding the largest sword he could possibly get his hands on. Sweat covering his large pectorals, his biceps bulging out of his sleeveless uniform as he lowers his shield and weapon into their place in your hut, heaving and wiping the sweat from his brow, moving his hair from his face to glance up at you. 
He takes in the sight of you, clad in your white robes, hair perfectly set as you perched on the loveseat in your shared home, pushing a grape into your perfect mouth, making unholy moans as you gazed into his hungry eyes, eating you alive as you swallowed down the sweet fruit juice. 
“My handsome warrior has finally returned,” you mused, gripping another grape in your perfect fingers, playing with it as you gave him ‘fuck me’ eyes, “I’ve missed you my dove,” slipping it past your perfect lips, closing your eyes in bliss as you devoured the fruit again. 
“My perfect goddess,” moving to kneel at your waist, pushing his head into your chest as he gripped your midsection while you rubbed his hair every so softly, “I’ve missed you, my love,” lifting his head to gaze at you closer, moving in for a loving kiss that turned steamy quickly after. 
“Take me, Phillip,” you gasped, throwing yourself into his embrace as he picked you up from the seat, leading the both of you into the bedroom. 
He lowered you down as if he was handling glass, petting your face as he did so, “take your clothes off my love,” he whispered into the crook of your neck, “I’m gonna stuff you full of my sons,” gripping his lips on your collarbone as he fumbled with his armor, removing it while you did your robes. 
Gazing at your nude figure, spread eagle for him as he gathered his leaking cock in his hand to line up with your perfectly plump pussy, glistening in the candlelight, stuffing his member into your sopping cunt, causing a unanimous moan to emit throughout the room as he pushed further and further into your open womb. 
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AND LAST BUT CERTAINLY NOT LEAST LET’S SADDLE THE FUCK UP AND TALK ABOUT HUCKLEBERRY AND HIS CRAZY BEHAVIORS BECAUSE WE ALL KNOW HE’S A HIGHKEY FREAK IN THE SHEETS. HE’S ALL ABOUT HOG-TYING YOU UP... AFTERALL IF YOU’RE BEIN’ A LIL’ BRAT YA GOTTA BE BROKEN LIKE THE PHILLY YOU ARE! 
You know exactly how to get yourself in a pickle with your handsome devil of a cowboy. Know just what triggers him into a full rage... and that’s studding yourself out right in front of him. 
You knew that touch on the thigh by that sleazy ass rustler was too much, but who were you to guess what he’d do. I mean, you did look mighty fine in those tight ass Wranglers, and who were you kidding, you fuckin’ knew you were just hot in general, and you took every chance to use that to your advantage. 
After all, you were doin’ your boy a favor, havin’ pushy buy your rounds for ya as he finished his game of poker at the bar with his buddies. 
What was the damn harm in it to get some free booze? The contact did him in. He noticed it from across the room, practically sniffing it out as his vision shot to that slime ball running his hand where his property was. 
“We’re leavin’ darlin’,” moving to you as he threw his coin on the bar top, gripping your forearm in his large hand to drag you and your bulging tits to the open air of the Colorado night. 
“What the hell Flip?” yelling to let go of his iron grip, moving back towards the saloon doors, “I wasn’t finished with my beer!” crossing your arms after he pulled your waist back to him. 
“You look at me, sugar,” tilting your chin up to notice his dilated pupils in the moonlight, “you know exactly what the fuck you were doin’,” using that hand to grip your throat, a moan falling faintly from your lips as he lowered his cowboy hat to hide his gaze. 
“Now, ya fuckin’ slut,” he groaned, loving the feeling of your quickening pulse in his fingertips, “here’s what’s gonna happen, baby,” moving to whisper his threat in your ear, “I’m gonna tie your ass up like the fuckin’ brat you are, and you’re gonna take the ride home in the bed of my pick up,” releasing his grip only for you to cry out for the loss of contact. 
“Behave,” he tsked, waving a finger as he went to grab his good rope, untying it as he watched you get on the ground like the damn pig you were acting like tonight. 
“See?” he chimed, bending over to your hands and feet as he started to wrap you up, “even sluts like you seem to listen after a lil’ forceful action,” finishing his work as he slapped your clothed pussy as hard as he possibly could.
“Fuck, Phil!” you screamed in pain and pleasure, trying to wriggle your way out of the tie he’d made. 
“Aw, sugar,” he chuckled lighting a cigarette as he watched you writhe on the ground, “swearin’ and bein’ a brat isn’t gonna getcha far,” inhaling and exhaling as he thought about what to do with you at the cabin later. 
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GOD MY FUCKIN’ HEAD HURTS BRUH I’M SO HORNY OVER THESE MEN MY GOD... ALSO I HATE MYSELF FOR SAYING WHALE COCK I CANT EVEN RN
WELL BYE!😂
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cienie-isengardu · 4 years
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K, O, P?
Thank you for the lovely ask, it was fun to write! :D
K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?
Hard to pick the one character, even more since the best of character development I love so much are not tied to one arc but happens through the whole story. But since I’m on OP kick lately, Roronoa Zoro gets all the honor. 
I love how at first he promised to follow Luffy as long as the rubber-man didn't get in the way of his goal (and threatened him with death otherwise) but took his commitment very seriously from day one. And somehow through the relatively short journey, Zoro literally threw away his ambitions, pride, life, everything for Luffy’s sake. And not only for Luffy, but for the crew as a whole, because  Roronoa is always ready to stay behind, to be left behind, to protect nakama at all cost. And the best part of this development is that, Zoro’s priorities changed from carrying the burden of promise and shared ambition with a dead friend being the best to giving everything to Luffy, while it does not change what Zoro is at the core. It doesn’t make him a better man in the sense of an improved attitude or outlook on life. Hell, I would say it makes him more workaholic with the need to get stronger, pushing himself harder than before once he gets to know the wider world better, but Zoro is ruthless and rude as he was. He is born killer and monster in human form that don’t give a fuck about the world, politics, what society thinks while his own moral sense does not budge at all. He was and is willing to kill, he enjoys fighting and drinking, has this ambitious as hell goal of being the best. The development does not change who Zoro is, but what matters to him the most and this growing loyalty and trust can be seen through the whole story and I don’t know what would need to happen for such dedication falter even for a bit.
And like I said, this is not something that happened in one arc, but was happening through the whole story, from earlier little occasional clashes with Luffy to being of one mind with his captain while always ready to carry the burden when Luffy can’t do it, ready to stay behind and protect nakama. What makes the final of Thriller Bark one of the coolest pledge of loyalty but not the best development arc itself, really, because Zoro’s character develops in that direction from day one and the decision made in Thriller Bark is just a result of all the previous adventures.
O - Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?
I’m going to cheat with that and instead of a random song, I will give you two I have on loop already for several days: Broken Crown and I gave you all by Mumford & Sons, because both suit Donquixote Brothers so well and could tell the same events from two different perspectives. In advance sorry for ranting but these two songs kill me emotionally so much, I must talk in length about them!
Broken Crown is all about Rosi rejecting the “crown” given to him by brother (“I'll never be your chosen one”) and yet… still caring and sadly, knowing it too well he wouldn’t pull the trigger (“but oh my heart, was flawed I knew my weakness. So hold my hand consign me not to darkness“) and the final lines, gosh:
So crawl on my belly 'til the sun goes down
I'll never wear your broken crown 
I took the road and I fucked it all away 
Now in this twilight, how dare you speak of grace 
So crawl on my belly 'til the sun goes down 
I'll never wear your broken crown 
I can take the road and I can fuck it all away 
But in this twilight, our choices seal our fate
And then, I gave you all is just so Doffy about Rosinante, it hurts. Seriously. Like, I really believe he never meant to hurt his brother (and maybe never understood he did), and the whole last lines are just so on spot:
But I gave you all 
But you rip it from my hands 
And you swear it's all gone 
And you rip out all I have
Just to say that you've won 
Well now you've won
It’s just so, so about Rosi stealing Law and Opi Opi no Mi even though Doffy already “gave [him] all” what he could. And the most ironic thing? When people usually think about their last meeting, we remember that Doffy killed his younger brother, but in fact, Rosi DID WIN in the long run. He cured Law and saved him from Doffy, he stole Opi Opi no Mi and took away from brother a chance for immortality, even if just for a while. Which is like three main victories in one strike and he did sort of say it to Doffy’s face (“[Law] is already free!!”). 
Just… so many feelings from two songs that fit well two brothers so different from each other. And the regrets and hate, and lack of understanding and spite. Seriously, it makes me think about their last meeting so much :(
P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas).
I have three major growing ideas, but since I’m in a good mood, I will share the happiest AU in which Donquixote Rosinante never played the role of spy and confronted Doflamingo in the open sea as a Marine Officer. 
Or more like: Doffy found out his bro is alive but part of Marine, so of course he couldn’t leave him in peace and like the maniac he is, chased after Rosinante across all the sea to recruit him into the Family - to no avail. So Doffy’s main reason to become Shichibukai was just so he could jump on Rosi’s warship and annoy the fuck of him, like an older brother should. And Rosi can’t kick him overboat, since as a Warlord Doflamingo is untouchable by Marines. Or at least in theory, because Rosi serves under Garp’s command*, and the old Vice-Admiral does not mind to punch some sense into Doffy (and Rosi) with fist of love, cause no punk like Doffy will tell Monkey D. Garp  what he should or shouldn’t do on his own ship and if bros are lucky, Tsuru may save them from this madman… or not). Despite that causing ruckus between sailors is much better than boredom, and Doffy seeks out his younger brother under all excuses and more often than not, visits just to rant about all annoying people and bitching on Kaido or Sengoku or Nobles or really, everything and maybe for a drink or two and napping between one and another business meeting, because there is no better nap than under Rosi’s silencing powers. It is worth, no matter that more often than not Garp is kicking his ass, even when in fact he acts as a good boy should. And maybe, just maybe Doffy is so bored with all his underground business going well that he is actually doing “government dog” work of hunting down random pirates. Or more likely, slaughtering every asshole who dare insult his clumsy brother.
Because no matter what, Rosi is his baby bro and he belongs to Doffy even if the dumbass stubbornly refuses to join the Family. Which is fine, one day Doflamingo will find a way to change his brother's mind and until that day comes, he will mess with Marines as much as he can. Which is all fair, because Rosi too does mess with Doffy’s underground business whenever he has a chance and the klutz set on fire accidentally himself AND so many Doffy’s stuff one may wonder if he really is that clumsy or does he do that on purpose. Trebol thinks the latter, cause somehow Rosi always drops things on him by stumbling or spilt hot tea in his face. Doffy finds that amusing as hell, even more when his little bro uses his devil fruit powers to mute half of the Family just to piss them off. At least, as long as Rosi remembers to unmute them before leaving (sometimes the lil shit does not unmute them on purpose and Doffy is forced to chase him around the sea to undo the damage. Younger brothers can be a really pain in the ass).
So Doffy & Rosi kinda have this I-hate-you-but-I-love-you-dumbass relationship over the years until Law comes into picture and of course, Law stab the younger Donquixote and of course, Rosinante kidnap the kid to find a cure and maybe, just maybe, kidnap his brother along the way, and drag Law and Doffy on forced family vacation that involves burning a few dozens of hospitals, a lot screaming at each other and some terapeutic honest talks that no one really wants but everyone needs. Law gets the Ope Ope Mi, Doffy and Rosi kinda explain to each other all the traumatic shit from childhood and made sort of peace.
So, in the end, Doffy does not take over Dressrosa but is still doing his shady business and just being himself, just with better mental stability (cause Rosi keeps muting Trebol and all his shitty talk about what king can or cannot do on every occasion). Rosi has a brother that is not complete monster but not the good man either, but he isn’t ordered to kill him or lie to, and even though they are on opposite side, Rosinante can always call Doffy on den den mushi and shout at him for hours for all the stupid shit he pulled without any regrets or fear (and sometimes, Doffy does listen). Law is saved but still decides to sail and causing havoc as pirate captain while both Donquixote brothers are doting on him and of course, allying himself with Monkey D. Luffy, while the poor Sengoku just gets constant migraine for dealing with all the nonsense of Monkey D. and Donquixote family drama (but secretly feeling relieved that his son is finally doing fine). Garp on other hand, find it hilarious as hell. The World Government does not find it hilarious at all.
 *Sengoku doesn’t like putting his precious Rosinante under Garp’s command because the Hero of Marines of course drags the poor kid into all possible troubles and chaos, but since Rosi is brother of Doflamingo and Doffy is hated by Nobles, Garp is the best protector for younger Donquixote. He will punch everyone who would dare to hurt the kid of his closest friend, including World Nobles and their armies. The side effect is that Rosi is looking after Ace and Luffy, once they set sails, because they are uncle Garp’s grandkids and he will happily save Ace’s ass before Blackbeard get his hand on him and be even kind enough to give the kid a choice: either he comes back to Whitebeard or Rosi takes him straight to grandpa Garp and so Ace ends safe under pop’s watchful eyes once and for good.
Here, a happy Donquixote Bros AU. You’re welcome!
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aries-writingblog · 3 years
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Atlas (7)
Summary: After years of being imprisoned on the Raft, Tony negotiates freedom for his sister Tessa. When she’s free- so is her past, and it will never stop hunting her.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC(Stark)
Chapter Word count: 1082
Warnings: PTSD (subtle ish), trauma, torture (in later parts), suicidal behaviors and thoughts, mentions of death, character death, injury, violence, angst, and a lil bit of fluff in there
Disclaimer: Atlas is my own, original work with characters belonging to Marvel (except Tessa and Dr. Clifton). Plagiarism is not cool kids.
A/N: this is my first work I'm posting to this platform and I’m really excited and nervous about it. Hope you enjoy- constructive criticism is always helpful as well!!
Bucky’s fist collided with the door again. There was a major dent in the metal now. He cursed as the vibranium bounced off the metal again. He didn’t know what was going on out there. Tessa had been taken away and fifteen minutes later, all he could hear were her screams. All hell broke loose and he began raging around his cage, pounding at the door and concrete, frantically searching for a weak spot.
It had fallen quiet again, which couldn’t have been anything good. He pressed his forehead to the metal, his stomach in knots. He just wanted to hold Tessa again- she had seemed so lost and guilty. All he wanted was to tell her she wasn’t at fault- and make her believe it.
Tessa’s throat was raw. She was sweating and panting, exhausted. Too much of her blood was taken. She was slightly delirious at the sight of her skin being carved on her forearm and hand. Clifton had decided he wanted to research how her skin cells resisted the heat of her flames- basically skinning her alive. Her ankles and wrists burned at the chaffing leather straps holding her to the metal table. She had been injected with something, the IV in her arm, preventing her powers from working. Clifton’s face appeared above her again. She was spinning in and out of consciousness at this point.
“Hush, little pet- I’ve only gotten half of what I want now. If you want that specimen you call a friend to survive, you must cooperate.” He threatened, his voice lighter than his words. Tessa’s head lolled to the side as a crash was heard outside of the door. Clifton’s head snapped up to a soldier arming the doorway. “What was that- I thought you were all monitoring the perimeter?”
“I’ll go check it, sir. Could’ve been one of ours.” He replied sharply, exiting to investigate the source of the noise. Clifton grunted in agreement before holding up another scalpel.
“Now, pet... I simply must know, what keeps your heart from exploding in your chest?” He trailed the metal down her sternum, her Kevlar vest long gone by now. “Did you even know that was a danger?”
“Go... to hell- J.R...” she panted, her lips dry and cracking. Her brown eyes drooped, almost closing with the amount of effort it was taking to keep her awake. He clicked his tongue, disappointed in her response.
“See, your normal body temperature is a steady 118 degrees Fahrenheit. At this temperature, a normal human body would begin to boil- your organs turning to mush. Seizures and comas and death would occur in time. But you,” he sliced the fabric of her shirt down the middle, opening it up to reveal her chest. Tessa ground her teeth, anxiety and terror flooding her collapsing veins. “Your systems work perfectly fine, no damage to the circulatory system at least. I’d like to take a peek at how the others are running.”
Tessa shifted as much as she could, trying to evade the precision of his scalpel. A terrified whine slipped from her throat as she felt the metal press down. Then- the door exploded. Clifton ducked for cover behind the table before leaping back to his feet.
“Touch her again and it’ll be the last thing you do.” Steve’s voice growled from her right. Tessa let out another sound, this one of relief. The team found them. She could only hope they found Bucky first. To get him to safety.
“Well, if it isn’t Mr. America-“ Clifton chuckled darkly, a rasp forming in his voice. “You should learn to negotiate better, i believe I have the leverage in this situation so you should really talk a little nicer to me.” The point of the scalpel pressed into her chest, drawing blood. Steve shifted, keeping his eyes on the doctor and his scalpel.
“Just let her go, this can still end peacefully.” Steve’s words fell upon deaf ears as Clifton’s eyes trailed back down to his subject.
“I’m afraid it cannot. This creature was of my creation and she was a bad girl- hasn’t she told you the story?” He asked, grinning manically. Tessa pulled weakly against the straps again, panic filling her soul as she realized what he was going to tell Steve.
“No-“ she growled, yanking at her confinement. Clifton dug a little deeper with the scalpel, causing her to stop and groan, throwing her head back in pain.
“This little one set fire to six men- men who trusted her to lead them through danger.” He reported, glancing to Steve, whose expression remained in a tight grimace. “Then she took the praise when she saved one, never acknowledging the death she bestowed her other men. Isn’t that right, Atlas?”
Tessa didn’t even give him a response, dark spots taking over her vision, disoriented and foggy. She felt the point dig in deeper.
“And what happens to dogs when they misbehave?” Clifton asked. Steve shifted closer, trying to find some way to get to her. “They are sadly... put down.”
The scalpel was shoved deep into her chest, causing Tessa to gasp before her lung began filling with blood. In that same moment, a shot was fired, Clifton falling to the ground. Steve turned his head, seeing Natasha behind him, holding a smoking gun. She avoided his gaze as they sprinted to Tessa. Tessa grasped at Steve’s arm weakly as he began pulling her from the table.
“I’m...sorry.” She gurgled, blood splattering onto her lips.
“It’s alright... don’t talk- just try and focus on me now, okay?” He scooped her up, trying not to jostle her around too much. Natasha gently pressed a towel to the wound around the scalpel, keeping a light pressure. “Just keep your eyes on me- stay awake, Tess.”
She only gave a noncommittal grunt, her eyes falling prey to her demise. Steve cursed as they began to flutter. They started moving down the hallway, leaving Clifton’s body to decompose where it lay.
“Tessa?” He asked, bumping her head gently with his arm. “Shit- Nat!”
“On it- I’ll set up a spot in the jet so we can try to keep her alive until we get to the Tower. We can only triage her until we get there.” Natasha began to run ahead of him, her intent clear.
“It’s gonna be enough.” He mumbled to himself. He blinked back tears that threatened to fall on Tessa’s ashen face. “It’ll be enough.”
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starksinthenorth · 4 years
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An Analysis of Jon Snow’s Spoken Parts of GOTS8
In Season 8, Jon Snow said a total of 1608 words across ~162 lines.* His most common words were: know, queen, need, all, back, north, how, want, stark, when. Of those lines, 2 are quotes. 38 are questions.
The people he mentions:
Three times: Arya, Bran
Daenerys: 2; Dany: 3
Sansa: 5
Sam(well): 4
Twice: Ned Stark, Lyanna
Once: Jorah, Aegon, Rhaegal, Rhaegar, Robert, Grey Worm, Tywin Lannister, Cersei, Maester Aemon, Tyrion, Gilly, Little Sam
Houses: Glover (1); Stark (2); Umbers (1); Lannisters (2)
The number of statements per general topics:
D/S Conflict: 7
WotD: 9
Family: 18
Family AND D/S Conflict: 11
D/S Conflict AND WotD: 2
Family AND defending Dany's crown: 2
Dragons: 6
Flirting with Dany: 4
Non-fam Reunions/Goodbyes: 19
His birth/kingship of all Westeros: 18
Defending Dany's crown: 8
Distancing from Dany: 1
Distancing from Dany AND defending her crown: 1
Other: 13
In Battles: 14
About battle v. Cersei: 8
Battle v. Cersei AND D/S conflict: 2
Defending Dany, general: 4
Advice: 6
Concern for Dany's well-being: 2
Forgiving Tyrion: 3
Questioning Dany: 3
post-killing her reflection: 3
*some of these are condensed into the same line and I counted by hand, so might be a lil off.
EPISODE 1 - WINTERFELL
Arriving at Winterfell
[to Dany] I warned you. Northerners don't much trust outsiders.
[to Bran] Look at you. You're a man.
[to Sansa] Where's Arya?
Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen. My sister, Sansa Stark, the Lady of Winterfell.
In Council
We need to send ravens to the Night's Watch as well. There's no sense in manning the castles anymore. We make our stand here.
It's not important.
You did, my lady. It was the honor of my life. I’ll always be grateful for your faith. But when I left Winterfell, I told you we need allies or we will die. I have brought those allies home to fight alongside us. I had a choice, keep my crown or protect the North. I chose the North.
Godwood Reunion with Arya
How did you sneak up on me?
You still have it.
Have you ever used it?
Jealous?
Where were you before? I could've used your help with Sansa.
Sansa thinks she's smarter than everyone.
Now you're defending her? You?
Yeah. I'm her family too.
Dragons/Waterfalls
She doesn't know you. If it makes you feel any better, she didn't like me either when we were growing up.
What's the matter?
What's wrong with them?
I don't know how to ride a dragon.
What if he doesn't want me to?
What do I hold onto?
You've completely ruined horses for me.
We'd be pretty old.
It's cold up here for a southern girl.
With Sansa
"House Glover will stand behind House Stark as we have for a thousand years." Isn't that what he said?
I told you we needed allies.
I never wanted a crown. All I wanted was to protect the North. I brought two armies home with me, two dragons.
Do you think we can beat the Army of the Dead without her? I fought them, Sansa. Twice. You want to worry about who holds what title, I'm telling you it doesn't matter. Without her, we don't stand a chance.
Do you have any faith in me at all?
She'll be a good queen. For all of us. She's not her father.
With Sam
Sam? Were you hiding from me?
What are you doing in Winterfell? Or did you read every book in the Citadel already?
What's wrong? Gilly? Is she all right?
Little Sam?
Know what?
I'm so sorry. We need to end this war.
Well, I've executed men who disobeyed me.
I wasn't a king.
I gave up my crown, Sam. I bent the knee. I'm not King in the North anymore.
What are you talking about?
My father was the most honorable man I ever met. You're saying he lied to me all my life.
Daenerys is our queen.
That's treason.
EPISODE 2 - A KNIGHT OF THE SEVEN KINGDOMS
Jaime Trial
We need every man we can get.
With the Wall Crew
I thought we'd lost you.
How did you find each other?
The Umbers?
How long do we have?
Voiceover
They're coming. We have dragonglass and Valyrian steel. But there are too many of them. Far too many. Our enemy doesn't tire. Doesn't stop. Doesn't feel.
War Council
We can't beat them in a straight fight.
The Night King made them all. They follow his command. If he falls Getting to him may be our best chance.
We'll put you in the crypt, where it's safest.
If they're in the field, they're not protecting Bran. We need to be near him. Not too near, or the Night King won't come. But close enough to pursue him when he does.
Let's get some rest.
Your Grace.
With Sam and Edd
No.
If you want to join them. To protect them.
Now it's just us three.
In the Crypt
Lyanna Stark.
He didn't. He loved her.
They were married in secret. After Rhaegar fell on the Trident, she had a son. Robert would have murdered the baby if he ever found out, and Lyanna knew it. So the last thing she did, as she bled to death on her birthing bed, was give the boy to her brother, Ned Stark, to raise as his bastard.
My name. My real name is Aegon Targaryen.
I wish it were.
Bran. He saw it.
And Samwell confirmed it. He read about their marriage at the Citadel without even knowing what it meant.
It's true, Dany. I know it is.
EP 3: The Long Night
The Night King is coming.
Dany!
[to Viserion]: Get off!
[to Dany]: Bran!
EP 4: The Last of the Starks
Funeral
We're here to say goodbye to our brothers and sisters. To our fathers and mothers. To our friends. Our fellow men and women who set aside their differences to fight together and die together so that others might live. Everyone in this world owes them a debt that can never be repaid. It is our duty and our honor to keep them alive in memory for those who come after us and those who come after them for as long as men draw breath. They were the shields that guarded the realms of men. And we shall never see their like again.
Party
[to Tormund] No, not in one go. Vomiting is not celebrating.
[to drunk!Tormund] Yeah, I didn't have much say in that.
In his Rom w/ Dany
No. Only a little. I didn't know Ser Jorah well but I know this. If he could have chosen a way to die, it would have been protecting you.
I told you I don't want it.
I'll refuse. You are my queen. I don't know what else I can say.
I have to tell Sansa and Arya.
She won't.
I owe them the truth.
It won't.
You are my queen. Nothing will change that. And they are my family. We can live together.
Battle Council
The Northmen as well.
We'll surround the city. If the Iron Fleet tries to ferry in more food, the dragons will destroy them. If the Lannisters and the Golden Company attack, we'll defeat them in the field.
(to SANSA and ARYA) The Northern forces will honor their promises and their allegiance to the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. What you command, we will obey.
Godwood w/ Starks
You understand we'd all be dead if not for her. We'd be corpses marching down to King's Landing.
Her men gave their lives defending Winterfell-
I swore myself and the North to her cause.
You don't know her yet.
If you only trust the people you grew up with, you won't make many allies.
Arya-
I've never been a Stark.
I need to tell you something. But you have to swear you'll never tell another soul.
You have to swear it, before I tell you.
Because we're family. Swear it.
Goodbyes to Tormund, Gilly, and Sam
[to Tormund] Just a horse. Rhaegal needs to heal. He doesn't need me weighing him down.
This is the North, you know. And the Free Folk are welcome to stay.
It's where he belongs too. A direwolf has no place in the south. Will you take him with you? He'll be happier up there.
I wish I was going with you. This is farewell, them.
[to Gilly] I hope it's a girl.
You too, Sam.
EP 5: The Bells
With Varys at Dragonstone
Just crossed the Trident. They'll be at the walls of King's Landing in two days. How is she?
She shouldn't be alone.
Aren't you worried for her?
We're not much for riddles where I'm from.
That's her decision to make. She is our queen.
What do you want?
I don't want it. I never have.
She is my queen.
With Dany
I don't want it, and that's what I told him.
I love you. And you will always be my queen.
With Tyrion
Daybreak at the earliest.
During Battle
Move, move!
No! Get back! Get back!
Stay! Stay!
Stop!
(to a woman) Find somewhere to hide.
We need to fall back! Fall back behind the wall! Fall back!
Get out of the city! Fall back! Fall back! Fall back!
EP 6: The Iron Throne
Pre-Dany’s Speech
[to Tyrion] It's not safe. Let me send some men with you.
Grey Worm! It's over.
With Arya
What are you doing here? Hey, what happened?
 She's everyone's queen now.
Wait for me outside the city gates. I'll come find you.
With Tyrion in Jail
No.
Not that I've seen.
You didn't.
I can't justify what happened. I won't try. But the war is over now.
And you've been by her side, counseling her. Until today.
You think our house words are stamped on our bodies when we're born and that's who we are? Then I'd be fire and blood too. She's not her father, no more than you're Tywin Lannister.
Cersei left her no choice.
She saw her friend beheaded. She saw her dragon shot out of the sky.
Ah, it's easy to judge when you're standing far from the battlefield.
What?
I don't know.
What's it matter what I'd do?
"Love is the death of duty."
Maester Aemon said it a long time ago.
That's her decision. She is the queen.
I'm sorry it came to this.
My sisters will be loyal to the throne.
She doesn't get to choose.
At Iron Throne with Dany
I saw them executing Lannister prisoners in the street. They said they were acting on your orders.
Necessary? Have you been down there? Have you seen? Children, little children, burned!
And Tyrion?
Forgive him.
You can. You can forgive all of them, make them see they made a mistake. Make them understand.
Please, Dany.
The world we need is a world of mercy. It has to be.
How do you know? How do you know it'll be good?
I don't.
What about everyone else? All the other people who think they know what's good.
You are my queen. Now, and always.
With Tyrion, post-sentencing
There's still a Night's Watch?
Was it right? What I did? 
It doesn't feel right.
I don't expect we'll ever see each other again.
Stark Goodbyes
[to Sansa] The North is free, thanks to you.
Ned Stark's daughter will speak for them. She's the best they could ask for.
[to Arya] You can come see me, you know, at Castle Black.
You think anyone will dare tell you women aren't allowed?
I don't know.
You have your Needle?
[to Bran] Your Grace. I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me.
33 notes · View notes
winsister91 · 5 years
Text
Imagine...
Tumblr media
Word Count: 2100~
A/N: Sam imagine outta nowhere!! Hi guys. I’m still alive. This thing here started as an experiment, @sofreddie sent me that ^^^ lil pic up there and ordered me to roll with it. And I did! Here it is! Love you Shannon for forever kicking my ass into writing something <3 <3 <3 Fic under the cut!
My Masterlist!
~ Sam and forever tags are open! ~
“Sam!!” Y/N screamed, seeing him flung back into the wall with the force of the Witch’s spell. He fell quiet, his body stilled and she felt her heart jump into her throat with panic.
“Fucking hunters!!” the Witch snarled, her voice distorted and almost demonic as she readied another spell, “I will ruin you!”
“Sam,” Y/N hissed, as she shuffled behind her cover to get closer to the Winchester and hastily tried to rouse him. A small trail of blood trickled from his forehead and that was all it took for Y/N to see red.
With a snarl of her own, she grabbed Sam’s pistol from his hand, jumped up from behind her cover and fired off multiple rounds at the Witch.
Fruitless. With a shrieking cackle, they retreated, vanishing in an overdramatic cliche puff of smoke.
“Really?” Y/N scoffed, growling under her breath as she stashed Sam’s gun in the back of her pants and turned her attention to him, “Sam, Sam! Oh, c’mon please get the fuck up.”
Nothing, he’s completely out cold. In the same moment, however, she felt her phone buzz inside her pocket.
Please be Dean. Please be Dean. Please be Dean.
Internally thanking Chuck, she eagerly tapped the screen, “Dean! Get here, now.”
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。 “What the hell happened!?” Dean barked, as he lugged Sam’s KO body into the motel room and dropped him on one of the beds.
“Well,” she drawled sarcastically. Rather than dwell on her worry for Sam or frustration that the witch got away, she fuelled it all into anger, “See, the funny thing about Witches is that they have this thing where they can cast magic fucking spells. Every now and then, believe it or not, one can hit ya!”
“I knew I should have gone in with you both…” he grumbled under his breath.
“Standing right here Deano,” she folded her arms and pouted, “Thanks for the confidence boost. Look, I’m sorry. This Witch bitch is clearly more powerful than any of us anticipated. So...we fix Sam up and gun for her again, right?”
“Do you even know what spell he was hit with?” Dean questioned with a frown before he checked Sam’s pulse for the millionth time.
Y/N winced, her heart clenched at the sight of Sam and an icy cold sensation of worry scurried down her spine, “....No idea…”
“Wonderful.”
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
A couple of hours passed. After an incredibly long time of grumbling and pacing, Dean declared he was going out to make some calls and see if he could get a hold of Cas. Y/N sighed with slight relief as he left, she felt responsible. The one time Sam and her go for a case alone and of course, it fucks up. She kicked herself, cursing forever in her mind as she checked Sam’s head wound again. Thankfully it was just a scratch, an easy cleanup job that she performed earlier.
“So why aren’t you waking up?” she sighed out and sat in a chair beside the bed and gripped one of Sam’s hands tightly, “C’mon you big lug, you’ve handled more than this!”
She nudged his arm with a playful shove, sighing painfully again at the lack of response. Her eyes began to burn, without Dean in the vicinity, it became a hell of a lot more difficult to ignore her breaking heart.
“C’mon Sammy…” she gripped one of his hands tightly with two of her own. She rested her head on her knuckles, squeezing his hand to the point it was probably going to cut off the blood flow, “Please be okay,” she murmured, tears threatening to break through, “Don’t leave me now…”
“I’d never leave you…” Sam breathed out, his fingers twitching in Y/N’s hold.
“S-Sam?” she jolted back in her seat, staring into Sam’s now open eyes with awe, a broad smile growing on her face, “Oh thank fuck you’re okay.”
“M-my hands going numb....” he winced under his breath, prompting Y/N to swiftly release her vice grip on him.
“Heh, sorry,” she bit her bottom lip with a soft blush, “You just had me worried there.”
With a groan, Sam moved to sit up, resting back against the bed’s headboard. He grimaced, holding his head where the small wound resided, “My head is pounding…” he frowned with a small moan.
“Yup, you’re gonna have quite the bump on the old noggin there,” Y/N smiled, so full of relief that he was conscious that her heart felt like it was going to burst through her rib cage. She swiftly jumped from her seat, rushing to her duffle to retrieve a bottle of water and tossing it to him, “Drink that, I should text Dean that you’re up.”
She sat back in the chair at Sam’s bedside, her smile still not leaving her face as she quickly yanked her phone from her pocket and began tapping at the screen.
“M’sorry…” Sam mumbled, his voice groggy.
“Huh?” she looked up from her phone, brow furrowed, “No I’m sorry. I let you get hurt, then the Witch got away….I fucked up.”
“No,” Sam said, his voice suddenly sterner as he looked at her seriously, “Anything could have happened to you ‘cause I couldn’t protect you. Then I went and worried you…”
“Hey,” she tilted her head, putting the phone down on the bedside table. She gazed back at him just as seriously, “Nothing happened and...you’re okay, so let’s just leave it at that. Team Free Will lives on!”
He smiled warmly, his body language relaxing, “I’m glad,” he said quietly, taking one of her hands and holding it gently, his thumb grazing along the back of her palm, “Anything happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do.”
She felt her heart swell impossibly larger, yet raised an eyebrow, “Uh...you sure you’re okay there, Sam?” she asked, feeling heat spread along her cheeks. She couldn’t move her eyes from their hands connected like this, “If Dean was here, he’d be all ‘no chick flick moments’,” she chuckled nervously.
“I’m better now I know you’re not hurt,” he answered, those dreamy hazel eyes of his locked on hers, “I’ll never let you down like that again Y/N. I will always protect you.”
“Sam, y-you can’t promise that,” she shook her head, eyes narrowed with suspicion, “What freaking spell did that bitch hit you with?”
That’s when her eyes widened. Spell. The pining eyes. The hand holding. The ludicrous promises. The simple fact that he’d never behaved like this with her before, even when they’d both been close to their deathbeds in the past. She had seen him behave like this once though...Becky.
She pulled her hand back from Sam’s, quickly rising from her chair and stepping back. “I know what’s going on here…” she mumbled, hastily grabbing her phone, her eyes flitting to the direction of the bathroom.
“What’s wrong?” Sam grew tense, sitting up straighter and looking at her in concern, “Have I upset you?”
“N-no!” she squeaked, ignoring her rapidly growing heartbeat. She couldn’t deny how much she’d fantasized Sam uttering sweet nothings at her, but not like this. This was just torture, “You’ve been hit with a spell, okay? Nothing to worry about though, I’ll call Dean and we’ll fix this right now!”
Before Sam could react, the bathroom door slammed shut, the lock swiftly clicking.
Y/N leaned back on the door, holding her phone to her thumping chest with quick breaths.
“Oh fuck me…” she whined quietly, tapping again on her phone to call Dean.
“Y/N?” Sam's voice echoed from the other side of the door. He sounded close, like he was directly on the opposite side, “Baby, you okay?”
“Baby!?” she quietly shrieked, feeling her heart skip a beat. She kicked herself with a pained growl, “This is not the time for feelings, woman!” she scolded herself.
“Feelings?” Dean voice came through the speaker, “The hell are you talking about?”
“Dean!” Y/N cried desperately, “Dean you have to get back here, Sam is-”
“Is he up yet?”
“Yes but-”
“Oh thank fuck. Listen, sorry for being such a bitch with you earlier, shit happens, I know. You and Sam just need to get some rest.”
“Dean!” she shrieked, “There’s something wrong with Sam!!”
“What’s wrong?” Dean’s voice suddenly grew very alert.
“I...I think-”
Y/N jumped at another knock on the door, “Y/N, please open the door,” Sam pleaded on the other side, his voice breaking with desperation, “I know there’s a spell messing with me but...I just want you to be okay.”
“Aaaah,” she whined a painful noise, “Dean, Sam’s been hit with a love spell.”
“A what spell?” Dean scoffed in confusion.
“A love spell!” she squealed impatiently, “Ya know, the over the top, lovey-dovey, outta nowhere affectionate kind!”
“And...he’s acting like this with you?”
“Yes!!” she growled into the phone, “Who else is in the general vicinity for him to suddenly fawn all over!?”
“Will you just calm down for a second?”
“Calm down!?” she wailed, her eyes wide with shock at how Dean wasn’t freaking out.
“Ask him who his favorite singer is.”
She froze, brow furrowed and jaw slack in utter confusion, “What the fuck are you talking about Dean!? We all know it’s Elvis!”
“Just do it!”
She rolled her eyes and sighed defeatedly, clueless as to why the fuck Dean would have her ask this.
“Sam?” she called out hesitantly.
“Y/N?” he answered quickly and eagerly.
“S-so…” she started, stopping to briefly shake her head with a small bemused laugh, “Dean says to ask you who your favorite singer is?”
“Celine Dion,” he answered again, just as quick and matter of factly.
“See?” she rolled her eyes, talking back into the phone, “Like I said, it’s- wait what!?”
She did a double take at the door, jumping back from it slightly with an even more confused glare and pout.
“Celine Dion?” Dean chuckled at her reaction, knowingly, “I hate to break it you, Sweetheart, ‘cause I sure as hell know Sam didn’t want you to find out like this.”
“What, that he likes love songs revolved around historical disasters!?”
“It isn’t a love spell,” Dean continued, brushing off her remark, “It’s a truth spell. Love spells generally make the target fall in love with the caster.”
“T-truth…” her eyes were now comically wide, turning and slumping back into the door, sliding to the floor.
“Listen to me,” Dean instructed, “I got a hold of Cas, and we’ve actually got a lead on the Witch. They didn’t get far so we’re going straight for them. As soon as their taken care of, the spell’s effects should stop.”
“Right…” she answered distantly, only half listening to Dean words, “J-just don’t get dead... or truthed evidently…”
“Not planning on it,” and with that, the line went silent.
Y/N took a moment, sat on the dingy motel bathroom floor. She didn’t know what to think, and for some reason...she was angry?
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
Sam paced around the next room, occasionally tugging on his hair and glancing hopefully at the bathroom door every time he thought he heard movement in there. It was getting the stage that he was considering kicking the door down because he was so wracked with worry.
Thankfully, he didn’t need to. The door finally clicked and slowly opened, Y/N stepping into view, her expression blank.
“Y/N…” Sam breathed, relief overcoming him as he exhaled a long sigh.
“You shouldn’t be standing,” she mumbled, “You could be concussed.”
“I’m not,” he said confidently, “I know...something’s not right, but I can’t...it’s like I can’t control myself.”
“Yeah,” she leaned on the doorframe, narrowing her eyes, “I guess truth spells would have that effect.”
“Truth spell?”
“Yup,” she popped the ‘p’, shoving herself off of the doorframe and slowly stepping into the room. She approached Sam like she was squaring up to him, looking up and gazing intently into his eyes, “Do...do you love me, Sam?”
“More than anything,” Sam answered instantly, almost taking himself a back as he continued, “And I have done for a long time.”
“Why did you never say anything?” she asked again, her breath shaky and cheeks pinkening.
“B-because…” he started, stepping impossibly closer to her, “I think you deserve better…”
“All these fucking years Sam…” she shook her head with a laugh, “If you just said something…”
“What?” he asked, visibly gulping down a nervous lump in his throat.
“Well…” she laughed softly again, looking back up at him, “We could’ve done this a hell of a lot sooner.”
Standing on her toes, she reached up to him, holding herself a hair’s width away from his lips.
Sam hummed in surprise when she suddenly closed the distance, pressing into him and their lips slowly gliding over each others. His arms moved to snake around her waist, holding her to him as they both lingered into the kiss. Their eyes fluttered closed, content hums and rumbles emanating from their throats before they eventually parted.
“I love you too, Sam.”
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Gonna take a page out of the other anon's book and ask you to do all the harry potter questions...
so this took forever, but i’ve finally finished them all (and of course pasting them fucked up the formatting fml) Amortentia: Talk about 3 things you love. 
- I love languages, I love being able to see into someone’s soul by talking the language of their heart. I love the different sides of my identity that emerge with different languages, how you can only see fragments of my whole soul without comprehension of each language that forms a part of my heart.
- I love the LGBT community, love feeling free and whole and myself. I love seeing people realise who they are and seeing unabashed, queer love in the face of a world that does not want us. I love seeing that we are stronger together and that no one can take our identities away, no matter how much they try. I love seeing boys fall in love with boys and girls fall for girls for the first time. 
- I love the pure, unadulterated joy of learning, of education and finding out something new. The feeling of discovery and the sensation of having accomplished something when you understand a new concept is incomparable.
Ageing Potion: imagine yourself 50-60 years from now. how would you like a typical day to go? where do you see yourself? 
In fifty years, my body would be my own, covered in marks from misadventure and splashes of colourful memories. At 61, my kids would be grown up and moved out, my house would be filled with a different kind of sound, with puppies and bunnies and any other pets that fit. I hope I’d have a man to share this life with, we spend our weekends baking and devising obstacle courses for the pets to fall over, getting calls from our kids on how to be an adult (as if we’ve figured that out, even at our age). My sisters still haven’t let go of the habit of calling me a kid, and I try to see them when I can. The seasons change, the leaves fall, and I spend them all, content.
Alihotsy Draught: name and write about a few topics you’re really passionate about. 
Oh god we already did things I love though
Lets go specific instead and say fictional characters/ships
Drarry - The lion and the snake clash together, fire and ice raging a passionate war against each other, until they manage to blend their voices into one harmony. 
Wolfstar - the dog and the wolf, the moon and the star. Something poetic about their love. Sure, they’ve pushed against it, shouted angry words and slammed doors, but through it all, they gravitate back to each other. 
Ballum - by all accounts they shouldn’t work. A criminal and an aspiring cop, they’re a recipe for disaster, doomed to fail. But no-one, not even them, thought that they would become their own priority, above parental expectations, above the world they grew up in. they hold on tight, breathe each other in, relish in their found family. 
Antidote to Veritaserum: what is the biggest/most memorable lie you’ve told? 
I genuinely can’t think of one at all?? Oh lol not a lie but lie by omission i guess?? The fact that my gran still thinks i’m cishet lolll
Babbling Beverage: what kind of person are you when you’re drunk/hyped up on caffeine? 
I’m so fucking affectionate and talkative, i wanna cuddle everyone and I will absolutely tell you my opinions on/feelings about people. I’m a drunk disaster, but a fun drunk disaster. I also find a lot of things funny when drunk, and buy lots of presents for people.
Barufflo’s Brain Elixir: if you could master one skill instantly, what would it be? 
Right now the goddamn Russian language so my degree would be easier lol. I’d love to be able to whistle actually, or draw. 
Bloodroot Potion: describe a time you felt heartbroken. 
Well we’re gonna stick with creative writing so: I had a dream about us, both in matching suits. We were dancing at sunset, holding each other close as the songs played on. I woke up happy and content, and then I remembered that you weren’t mine anymore. You’re dancing with someone else while I sit, sobbing in my bed, longing for what should have been our future. I went through my room, finding every little thing that belonged to you, and put them to one side, in case you ever wanted them back. Holding on to the hope of one last conversation I guess. I miss you, and I hate you. And I love you. It hurts so much, like my heart stayed with you and I won’t last long without it.
Bruise removal paste: after you were heartbroken, what healed you?
The first time, it was love from family and friends and eventually falling in love again. And time. Now, i don’t know what’s gonna finish healing me, but love from other people and the promise that I’m worth more has done a lot to get me there.
Burn healing paste: are you cautious or are you impulsive? 
Both I think? I think I could do with being a lil more spontaneous though.
Calming Draught: what do you do on a rainy day?
I like to sit with a cup of tea or coffee, legs under a blanket, watching TV or writing or reading.
Caxambu: Style
I don’t think I have a recognisable style that can be described as anything other than gay. 
Borborygmus Potion: what’s your favorite food?
Right now I could really go for roast dinner tbh.  Confusing Concoction: What do you struggle most with? 
Prioritising myself and believing in my own worth. Cough Potion: What do you do to get better when you’re sick? 
I sleep a lot, and I like to eat chicken soup and have lots of warm drinks. Cure for Boils: Write about three pet peeves. 
People NOT WEARING HEADPHONES Hypocrisy Not respecting personal space Death potion: If you were told you were going to die in 24 hours, what would you do? 
Depends if I knew the cause of death/if i was infectious or not. If I wasn’t infectious I’d visit as many friends and family as possible, and probably get drunk. Deflating draught: Would you call yourself arrogant/modest? 
I like to think I’m modest but then again I don’t think that’s a super modest thought. Developing Solution: What’s the best photo you’ve taken? Which one’s your favorite? 
I took a nice one of my uni room, and some good ones at pride. Dogbreath Potion: What superpower would you have and why? 
Shapeshifting because my god would that make being trans more bearable. Doxycide: are you more clean or messy? 
Messy, but I do like to clean sometimes. Dr. Ubbly’s Oblivious Unction: are you critical of yourself? if you are, how do you want to work on it? 
Yes I am, and I try to work on it by talking to myself as I would to a friend or my puppy. Draught of Living Death: How would you like your funeral to go?
I’d like it to be a reflection of me, but equally I’d want it to be good for the people I’m leaving behind - I’d like Bye Bye Darling to be one of the songs though. Draught of Peace: What relaxes you? 
Watching familiar TV, listening to dodie, Maisie Peters, Orla Gartland, the puppy sleeping on me, hugs from friends. Drink of Despair: What’s your biggest regret? 
Not breaking up with my exes sooner, it would’ve been so much less painful and better all round. Drowsiness Draught: What’s your bedtime routine? 
So after my sister and dad go to bed, I stay down with the pup, take her out to the loo, and then sit on the sofa with her sleeping for a bit. Then I put her to bed and tidy a bit, I go up to my room and get into pjs, brush my teeth and wash my face, I put on my dim fairy lights and put on a chill playlist, then sleep.  Elixir of life: Would you rather live five ok/mediocre years or one incredible year? 
I think it kinda depends, like it its five mediocre years where each day is mediocre, then definitely one incredible year. Elixir to Induce Euphoria: What makes you feel alive? 
Dancing, love, running with the pup. Essence of Dittany: what’s the worst scar you currently have?
I scar quite easily, but they also fade quite well - at the moment I have one on my elbow from catching it on chicken wire. Exploding Potion: Do you like fireworks?
Yeah! They’re super pretty - I prefer the ones without a bang though. Fatiguing Infusion: Describe a recent/memorable dream.  
I had a dream about being physically back at uni, it wasn’t super eventful but it was really calming and nostalgic. Felix Felicis: Do you believe in luck?
I guess?? Flesh-Eating Slug Repellent: How do you keep bad thoughts away? 
Antidepressants lol. No but if I’m anxious I’ll write out everything I’m stressed about to get it out of my head. If I’m depressed I try to distract myself. Forgetfulness Potion: What is your favorite memory?
Maybe my first time getting drunk, it was the cast afterparty for my favourite show and it was so fun being able to chill with all my friends and being treated like an adult. (Plus it was fucking hilarious watching everyone come to the set strike the next day where most people were hungover as all hell)
My first gay night out was also pretty memorable, if only for the amount I drank lol. Fungiface Potion: What’s the greatest prank you’ve pulled? 
Legitimately don’t know if I ever have pulled one? At school we once turned our whole classroom backwards, and at uni my friends and I spent about two years putting any spam mail we got into our friends pigeonhole after he proudly told us how empty he always kept it. That was fun. Gregory’s Unctuous Unction: Describe your best friend(s).
Okay we’re gonna go for 3 people (all of whom have featured in poems of mine) - I started off writing about 5 and then got bored (and also vaguely embarrassed about calling people best friends) so we’re going down to three I’m also gonna make it vague ish So the first is a friend I’ve known for ten years and we’ve been equal parts immature and grown up throughout those ten years - last time I saw her we went to a inflatable park and then to spoons. She’s funny and sweet and chaotic and a lot shorter than I think (she used to be a head taller than me but hasn’t grown since we met, so even though we’re the same height neither of us quite believes it). She’s talented and reliable and So very committed to being a good friend (she drove to pick my ex and I up from a festival so she could meet him and took a 3-4 hour train to come celebrate my 21st). The second is possibly the first friend I made at uni because we bonded over being terrified of going to Russia and now we communicate almost solely through animal crossing. I love her, she’s hilarious, about as much of a mess as I am and an incredibly sweet person. She’s the first person I text in a crisis because she knows the exact right balance of taking the piss and actually helping and is always available to talk in foreign when I need to forget about the people I’m with or avoid an ex lol. The third is one of my favourite people at uni, he’s super supportive and understanding but also the best fucking person for a night out or a laugh. I used to think he was intimidating but honestly he’s just so sweet and has always made me feel welcome in my new year groups and always makes sure I have someone to pre with. Hair-Raising Potion: What scares you?
Fucking clowns man. Also not living life to the fullest, I’m really trying to put myself first nowadays and make sure I’m not staying in bad situations out of anxiety. It’s definitely helped me feel better about myself and have more energy to think about other people as well. Hate potion: If you had to name your worst trait, what would it be? 
Either stubbornness or being too self-sacrificing. It’s not a good combo tbh. Herbicide Potion: do you have a green thumb? 
I have owned (1) plant and I think I killed it so no. I am absolutely terrified every time my dad asks me to water the garden because I feel like I can only over or under water. Hiccoughing Solution: what’s the funniest thing that’s happened to you? 
Funny situations involving me tend to end in injury, maybe when I fell over the tennis net that didn’t even come up to my knees and got stuck in it?  Or when I fell over skiing and couldn’t get up because I’d done a roly poly which ended up with my skis trapped under my back.  Invigoration Draught: how do you wake up in the mornings? 
Lately my sister brings the puppy up to wake me up which is nice. Invisibility Potion: What would you do if you were invisible for a day? 
Ooh that’s a good question, I think I’d probably take a bunch of photos of me holding stuff and probably scare the shit out of my family. Jawbind Potion: Are you talkative? What do you like to talk about? 
Yes, very. I like talking about anything and everything, I love finding stuff out about people, which is part of the reason I do so many of these things. Laugh-Inducing Potion: Tell a funny story.
I am not a very funny person. I don’t have many funny stories!! When I was younger and my mum would get milkshakes and stuff, we were only allowed a glass each (I have 3 siblings) so that we each got the same amount and my sister was being sneaky, tried to drink from the carton to cheat the rule, ended up drinking mouldy milk. Karma. Mandrake Restorative Draught: How long can you stand still? 
Probably quite a while, I’ve never thought about it to be honest. Manegro Potion: How do you like to cut your hair? I cut mine myself, I usually leave the top a few inches long, and the back and sides are usually tapered from a 3 to a 1. Mopsus Potion: What do you want to be doing 5 years from now? 
Hopefully be working in translation or LGBT activism, living with a flatmate or partner. I’d like to have had top surgery and be acting or stage managing again and playing tennis and maybe football again. Muffling Draught: Favorite genre of music? 
Idk, indie pop maybe? Or alternative? Oculus Potion: would you rather see the distant past or the distant future?
Distant future. Pepperup Potion: what makes you feel alive?
Sport, playing with the puppy, talking to friends. Polyjuice Potion: If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
I would remove my chest lol.  Quodpot Solution: What’s your opinion on sports (are you a fan of any specific teams/sport)?
Tennis is my favourite sport, I also like football, judo, rounders, swimming, sailing and skiing. Rat Tonic: Do you have any pets? 
Yes! I have a tiny bunny called Teddy, two chickens called Miss Sussex and Babs and a boxer puppy called Pickle. Shrinking Solution: How tall are you? Do you like your height (why/why not)?  
I honestly don’t know, I think I’m 5’ 3” ish?? After 5’ I just kinda stopped paying attention. I’d like to be taller because it would help me pass better, but I also kind of like my limbs the way they are?? Like additional muscle from T is already making tennis weird to adjust to so I don’t wanna make that worse tbh. Skele-Gro: What helps you feel better? 
Hugs, alcohol, chocolate, familiar TV, reading my favourite books. Sleakeazy’s Hair Potion: Describe yourself in 6 words or less.
Queer, loud, chatty, empathetic, caring, stubborn. Veritaserum: What is one truth you’ve wanted to get off your chest? 
I wish I had broken up with my exes sooner/not got together with the last one at all. We weren’t a good fit and I like to think we’d still be friends otherwise. Volubilis Potion: Can you/do you like to sing? 
I love to sing, I’m decent but struggling to adjust to my voice drop tbh. Wide eye Potion: What time do you usually go to bed? 
12/1am, depends on when I take the dog out. Wolfsbane: What’s the biggest change you’ve experienced in the past year? Going on testosterone!
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experimentalmadness · 4 years
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Cin Vhetin Ch. 10: The Betrayal
Can I interest y’all in some good “let’s make you think your crush sold you out” tropes today? 
Synopsis: Din Djarin is hunted by a new mercenary, when they are forced to work together they slowly realize they are stronger together than apart.
Chapter Summary: After finishing their assignment together Din and Zethu are about to part ways when their mutual enemy catches up to them. 
Pairing: Din x OC/Reader (however you prefer to read it)
Masterlist: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9 
Ao3 Link
The minute they reached the safety of hyperspace and were well on their way out of Coreworld space, Din felt the stress that had been pressing on him since they started this mission lift. He left the cockpit to find his former hunter sitting between two crates of supplies in what passed for a living quarters on the Razor Crest. The kid was with her, perched on one of the crates, watching her with concern. Its ears were pointed back and down with worry. 
He didn’t bother to usher it away this time. Zethu Desh, was no longer the enemy. 
Din took a hard look at the merc. All trace of that former cockiness and confidence was gone. Her shoulders were slumped, her head down. She was running a vibroblade over her fingers and back in an agility exercise, but she was hardly paying any attention. The bruises on her pale face had turned to a dull yellow-purple. 
“What will you do now?” He had thought about cracking some sort of joke, but humor, even his dry version of it, felt ill-placed here. 
She looked up at him, brow furrowed. “I don’t know.” She sounded lost. “Get a new contract, I guess,” a shrug. “Might as well stay on Numidian for a bit. Lay low. I can hitch a ride back to Nevarro to get my Lancer once the heat dies down.”
Defeat hovered around her. How hard it was to spend your whole life clawing to get to some semblance of normalcy and routine only to have it ripped away. For his sake. He wouldn’t feel guilty, had no right too, but Din saw keenly her displacement. “You could stick with us.”
Zethu’s shock mirrored his own. The offer came instinctively. She had been nothing but trouble to him since they had met, a constant threat that had come close to ending him more than once. Even now she could still be baiting a trap. He remembered his first meeting with her, how congenial she had been before turning a blaster on him. There were other things he could recall as well. Her pushing the kid out of the way of a rockslide without hesitation, her pushing him back away from blaster fire, and her leaning out over the side of the busted speeder as he hung over thin air, pulling him up out of the ether. 
I’ve got you.
“I don’t need your pity,” Zethu’s cruel snap brought him back to reality.
“Not pity.”
She regarded him with wary eyes. The blade still undulated across her fingers like water as she nervously fidgeted. “So...what? You just travel across the galaxy picking up strays?” she nodded at the child. 
“The child is a foundling,” Din ruffled the kid’s ears as he made his way over, sitting atop the opposite crate. “Until I can either find its kind or it comes of age, it’s in my care and under my protection.”
Zethu’s eyes shifted from child to man before her face split wide and she let out a surprised, disbelieving laugh. “What, are you serious? Do all Mandalorians just go around adopting helpless creatures then?”
“This is The Way.”
“Well, sorry but I’m not looking to be adopted by anyone. Disappointing one species is enough for me, thank you.” Zethu stopped fidgeting with the blade, letting it rest, half tilted down, the sharp tip still balanced between her fingers. “Lucky kid,” she said with a small smile. “Maybe if someone like you found me when I was still young my life would have been different.”
“Still could be.”
The process for conversion was different for adults than foundlings. It was rare, but certainly not unheard of and—why in the galaxy was he jumping so far ahead? Letting Zethu loose among his own kind brought back the images of the sleek vornskr she reminded him so much of. Predatory, proud, and dangerous to their core. Not two standard days ago she was still threatening to kill him. Zethu had a faraway look in her eye, and the same sad smile hadn’t moved from her lips. 
“You know I almost got sent off to some fancy school in the Core?” She turned her head towards him. “Was too young to remember much and the war was on in full swing. But I remember my parents arguing with some Togruta about sending me,” she shrugged. “Maybe it was some scam or other, but I never stopped wondering what I’d be doing with a fancy education offworld. Been brought up respectable. Away from Arkania. What about you?”
The little one had snuck into Din’s lap, curling up rather happily. He put a hand against its head. “Not much to tell.”
“Aw, come on. I spill my guts and you get quiet?” She leaned her head back against the metal wall, fixing him with a look of open curiosity. 
Din shrugged. “Grew up during the wars, too. Family died during a battle and the Mandalorians took me in. That’s all there is to tell.”
“Look at us—ship full of orphans.”
Short, silver hair fell over her eyes and Din made himself look away. When those colorless eyes weren’t trying to stab you with rage or hatred, a person could get lost in them. “So…” he cleared his throat, “we land on Numidian and you go your way, that’s it?”
“Simple,” she nodded. “I doubt the imps are going to take kindly to my reneging on our deal.”
The alarm signaling their drop out of hyperspace began to blare and with reluctance Din rose to his feet to head back to the pilot’s chair. Zethu stood as well, laughing softly to herself as the kid raised his arms to be picked up, which she obliged, pocketing the blade before the child could start reaching for it. 
“You are more than just a merc, Zethu Desh,” he said before he could stop himself. 
Confusion laced with something akin to panic flashed across her face at his words. “Sometimes what you see is what you get, Mando,” she whispered, almost as if she couldn’t fathom summoning enough breath to answer him.
He’d seen her fight like a true warrior, a protector first on instinct, the rest all learned behavior. A creature of pure survival, like him, she had been right he had no place to judge her and she had proven herself. But what use convincing her when she would not see these qualities in herself? “Strap in,” he grunted, starting the climb up. “Numidian is never an easy landing.”
***
She couldn’t get the Mandalorian’s words out of her head. Most of her life had been lived alone since her exile from the rest of the Offshoots. She was sure she had committed almost every reprehensible crime in the galaxy. She owed no one loyalty, and no one owed her. It was better that way. Survival above all. Every day alive was a victory over the Arkanians, over her parents, over every other Offshoot that had wanted her to be something she never would. 
So what did it matter what this one Mandalorian thought?
No one stopped them as they walked right through the outpost’s gates with the carbonite corpse of Gedos Sal floating between them. Zethu stared straight ahead, trying not to look at the body of the man who had cursed her with his dying breath. 
Shame. That’s all she was, and if the Mandalorian had any brains he’d see that, too. Maybe letting him and the kid go was the one good thing she would ever do in her life. It hardly made up for anything. She still could barely believe why she was letting him go when her every survival instinct was screaming at her to get the jump on him, get the job done, take the payout and regard her hesitation as a rare moment of weakness and never think about it again. 
She couldn’t. She couldn’t. No realization frightened her more. 
They were met at the loading docks by the same severe Corellian woman who had sent them on their assignment. No fancy pent house office meetings this time. That suited Zethu fine. She was already itching to get the credits, pay for passage, and get on her Lancer far far away from the chance of running into any other Offshoots or Mandalorians ever again. 
“Such efficiency!” The woman spread her arms, ruby lips open in a charming smile. 
“He didn’t come quietly,” the Mandalorian spoke for them both. “Had to be put down.”
“Ah, a pity,” the woman nodded, checking over the carbonite slab, examining it as if it was some shiny piece of new tech. “But what’s done is done,” with a snap of her fingers an aide stepped forward with two separate pouches. 
Zethu took her half of the payout, tucking it away into her belt. She felt sick. 
“Our business is concluded. Feel free to enjoy our hospitality for as long as you remain on Numidian,” that smile again. “And as long as you refrain from shooting up any more of my employees. I should be greatly disappointed to put a bounty on your heads next,” she laughed and strode away on her heels, her guards taking control of the carbonite. 
And just like that Gedos Sal was gone, as if he never had existed in the first place. Zethu had a powerful desire to gamble and drink those credits down as fast as possible. “So…”
“So.”
There was no more contract keeping them together, no truces, no bounties. Zethu shifted awkwardly in the silence. “Stay for a drink?”
He tilted his head at her. “Not really my scene,” he gestured to his helmet. 
“Oh. Right.” Stupid, stupid, stupid. “A walk, instead? Bet the lil’ bug could stand for stretching its legs.”
As if in answer the kid poked its head out from under the Mandalorian’s cloak where it had been hiding. “You know you can come back with me as far as Nevarro, right?” The Mandalorian sighed, but he fell into step alongside her just the same. 
They walked out of the outpost, both realizing the gambling dens and catinas wouldn’t exactly make for a peaceful stroll; however much Zethu was still itching to burn those credits. Already she could feel the creeping flood of the inhabitants fears and excitements. Or maybe she was just projecting her own anxieties. 
As they exited the outpost and into the jungle trails that deluge in her mind receded and Zethu embraced the calm of the forest, and the silence of her walking partner. The landing bay was just behind them. They’d make a circuit and walk back. The little one was already toddling on ahead, following a jumping mantis-like insect. 
“Where are you two bound?” Zethu asked after a time. 
“The last time I was here I was looking for information on the kid’s people,” he explained. “Only got as far as ‘Jedi’ before I was...interrupted.” 
A low chuckle rumbled through her. “Be glad it was only an interruption. That distraction ended up saving your life, Mando. Hmm...I’ve heard that term once or twice by the way. Some kinda monks, right? Hey, if I hear anything more in my travels you’ll be the first I tell.”
“Thanks.”
In truth the few times she had ever heard the term Jedi was in hushed, frightened whispers here and there. She wasn’t really sure who they were. A religious order? Crime syndicate? It was as if people were afraid to even let on they knew the name. That would make getting intel extremely difficult and—hang on why was she already committing to going off on some star’s addled chase already?
The wind picked up around them rustling the leaves on some of the lower ferns. Blinking into the dappled light, Zethu noticed that all the rest of the leaves further down didn’t seem to be moving. Odd. 
“Should probably head back,” the Mandalorian said. 
“Yeah...hey, it was...good to meet you—”
“Din Djarin.”
He held out a hand. Zethu found herself staring before she reached out to shake it. “Din,” she smiled as he squeezed her hand just a little tighter as she said his name. It suited him, she thought, almost like she had already known his name.
“Offer’s a standing one,” he said, still not taking his hand from hers. “Would rather have you watching my back than trying to kill me any day.”
She laughed. “See ya, Din.”
“Hey,” he released her head and looked around. “Where’s the kid?”
Zethu also looked about, no sign of the little one anywhere. “Hey kid!” she shouted. She could see its distinctive footsteps leading off in a straight line through the jungle. “Probably just kept walking on ahead, shouldn’t be far.”
She shouldn’t be pleased this gave her more time with Din, but he was past paying any attention to her. He tore on ahead, focus solely on making sure his charge was alright. “There’s a clearing, I see it. Probably there,” he muttered, following the tracks. 
So he didn’t see the ships before Zethu did. 
“Din...Din run…”
But she couldn’t get enough breath to properly warn him. He was moving too far ahead and too fast. He finally saw right at the crest of the clearing. The freighters surrounded by Imperial stormtroopers. At least they found the little one, in the arms of an ex-Imperial officer. And at the center of it, her employer. 
Din had his blaster drawn. “Let the kid go!” If Zethu had thought she had seen the full wrath of the Mandalorian she had been dead wrong. Even with the modulator and the armor she could feel rage in its purest form radiating off of him. 
A dozen blaster rifles aimed for him at all once and Zethu felt her heart drop into her stomach at alarming speed. 
“That would be a mistake,” Moff Gideon strode forward towards Din, completely unaffected by the display. He stood tall, with a military grace and confidence that only came from years of effective leadership. Threats were beneath him, Zethu knew this. Even in  her short experience working for the man, Gideon only ever made promises. 
“You had an admirable run, but here we are. I have what I came for. Put down the blaster, Djarin or it won’t be you my men shoot.” The implication was impossibly clear. Din faltered for a moment as the blasters shifted towards the baby. 
“Ah, Zethu Desh, there she is, exactly on schedule.” Any hope of the imps not having noticed her died in that moment. She reached for her own weapon but found her hand gripped tight in Moff Gideon’s grasp. “I commend you for a job well done and let it not be said I am not a man of my word,” he slapped a bag of credits into her hand. 
“No...I…”
“You?” 
Din turned his head and Zethu did not need to see his eyes to feel his betrayal. It was everywhere in that one, quiet, pained, word. She shook her head, but Gideon’s pull was stronger. 
“Many of my staff felt you had gone rogue, but when we were so helpfully informed that you and Din Djarin were here on Numidian, I knew we could coordinate to plan. Thank you for leading him and the asset out. Take him.”
Gideon was stronger than he appeared. Zethu struggled in his grip as some of the stormtroopers approached. Din lashed out, dropping one with a solid punch and sending the other reeling backwards with another well-placed blow. “I wouldn’t delay,” Gideon said, not for a second taking his eyes off Zethu. “The longer I am made to wait, the more unsteady my men’s trigger fingers become.”
The kid let out a cry as the officer holding it placed her own blaster to its head. “Din, don’t!” Zethu shouted. All further cries were silenced at the prick of a blade against her belly. Gideon had her, concealing the weapon with his own body. 
Panting, Din whirled about, aiming his weapon at the circle of troopers helplessly before giving out a cry of frustration, throwing down the weapon. The troopers moved in then, latching stun cuffs onto his wrists before he could think to attack again. 
“Get them onto the ship.”
“No!” Zethu choked as the blade dug in, she felt it begin to draw blood through her jacket. 
Din was tugged forward by one of the stormtroopers. He looked back at her. “Traitor,” he hissed before being led onto the ship. The little one crying in fear after him. Zethu glared fire at Gideon, struggling harder at the sound, gagging in pain as the blade drove another inch further in. 
As soon as he had his prizes Zethu found herself released. She tried to run for the ship, but was backhanded by Gideon, sending her sprawling onto the underbrush. “My advice to you, Zethu Desh, would be to take your money and get out of this system” he spat, contemptuously. He wiped the blade with a kerchief before sheathing it. “If it hadn’t been for our point of contact with Crimson Dawn we might have missed this little rendezvous. As it stands...I have what I came for, you have your money, and if…” he loomed over her. “You think to interfere in anyway after this I will revisit letting you live, but I believe the Mandalorian won’t be accepting any further help from you.”
Rage. Hot, red, and burning exploded behind Zethu’s eyes. Blood roared in her ears as she lunged at Gideon. She had no weapon in hand when she attacked. It wasn’t too late to hold him hostage herself and negotiate terms. Or to tear him apart. 
The blaster shot felt more like an inconvenience than a real threat. Half mad with anger, Zethu simply cast her hand out to shove the incoming plasma bolt aside like an annoying pebble. She felt something shift against her, like a thread, and the bolt never struck her. 
Vaguely she was aware Gideon was firing again, but there was only a red hazy mist over her. He was backing away towards the ship and the soldiers who had far more firepower than a single blaster. 
“Although our contract is concluded, Zethu, you should know,” Gideon stepped up onto the boarding ramp. “I have neglected to fulfill one half of our full bargain. I believe this is a worthy enough trade given the trouble you have seen fit to cause me. Best of luck with the Dominion.” 
Blood was running down from her stomach, but she ran anyway. The boarding ramp was lifting. Gideon was already out of sight. The child was gone. Din Djarin was...gone. In her rage she threw her vibroblade at the hull of the ship. 
That tether from before reared back through her, pulling muscle and sinew with a weight Zethu had never felt before. All the breath left her lungs, her blood seemed to heat in her veins. And for one startling moment it looked as if the ship had lowered in the sky before she collapsed into unconsciousness in the now quiet and peaceful jungle clearing.
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