#he has sparkle powers now he's not fucked up anymore
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Fav father daughter duo ✨️❄️
#art#resident evil 8#resident evil#re8#resident evil village#i think they should've done a face reveal for Ethan in the dlc btw#i know we already know what his face looks like but i feel like story wise it would've made sense for him to be able to show his face#in the mold dimension. like. he's already dead. his things over#he has sparkle powers now he's not fucked up anymore#kind of#anyway#ethan winters#rose winters#the dlc felt a bit short but like. its a dlc. so is to be expected#i wish we got more rose content tho. i hope we do get more rose content#im excited for whatever comes next either way though#i like that they let rose be a little gross and scary like her dad. they're both sooo stupid too <3#i also LOVE that Ethan has sparkle powers in the afterlife.or well. mold. memory. whatever#I'm just imagining all the lords in the mold being like. damn well i guess this isn't so bad. then miranda shows up#and heisenburg is like fuck! and then Ethan shows up and everyone is like fuck!!#like what do they do? kill eachother again? they're already dead#i guess miranda like. killed all the other lords kinda and used them to make the evil duke?? unless i completely misread her notes#I'm gonna go check. then I'm gonna stop typing whole paragraphs in the tags. see ya#art of duck
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I've seen few dreamling Star Trek AUs, but I keep thinking about canon dreamling in the Starfleet era future.
The moment humanity makes first contact, Hob Gadling obvioulsy makes it his next goal to get up there and start exploring as soon as possible. New Frontiers! New species! New experiences!
Which great. He's good enough at being just the most normal (surprisingly lucky and durable) red shirt, just there, doing his job. Nothing weird to see here, no sir. Too bad that he managed to get a job at the Enterprise, the galaxy's most ridiculous incident prone ship. And as the Enterprise incidents(TM) keep happening, so does the niggling feeling that there's something fucking funky going on with Ensign Gadling. he has....a very surprising range of skills and knowledge. And that boyfriend of his...is always there when they have shore-leave, no matter how implausible it would be for him to travel the distances with the speed he does with Federation spacecraft. Nobody can sus out what his job is, but it has to be some very high level federation one for his and Gadling's shore-leave's always to align.
But the most disturbing thing about the boyfriend(TM) is how the first glimpse any of the crew gets of him is always always just a bit fucked up.
For a second, before he blinks and realises that that is just Gadling and his partner sitting down on a spaceport café, Spock could have sworn that sitting across the man was Run S'haile made flesh, appearance just like the statues now gathering dust in Vulcan ancient history museums. And the andorian officer could have sworn that for a blink there she saw the Sparkling King of All Fantasies walking hand in hand with Ensign Gadling, before the image settled to two humans walking side by side. And one calm night a tellarite engineer spots ensign Gadling snuggling and star-gazing by one of the ship windows with The Great Nightmare Beast of Sleeping Terrors and decides to get the fuck back to her own quarters and try to never think of it again.
And it really doesn't help that while your average sentients aren't anymore impressed by Gadling than the agressively boring and normal man warrants, it has been more than once that the Cosmic Entity With Unimaginable Powers of the week has gotten suspiciously polite when Gadling enters the scene.
In a normal Starfleet ship Gadling might be able to fly under radar, but USS Enterprise is not a normal ship and the crew is starting to get the heebie jeebies...
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𑊡˚+₊🍼✦ — for better or for worse + kbkg.
૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — hurt comfort, angst, happy ending, newlyweds, misunderstandings, bkg implies reader cheats but they don’t, gn!reader, husband!bakugou. 4 @bfbkg who wanted some hurt comfort!!
“you weren’t there for me when i needed you.”your voice trembles, even when you shout the volume wracks your entire body— has you shaking and even you stumble back from the power behind your voice. “you’re never here when i need you.”
bakugou’s red eyes flame up with fury, and he crossed the room within quick and simple strides. he’d never hurt you, never touch you in a way you wouldn’t like— you know that, he knows that but it doesn’t mean it stings any less when you flinch away from him. “‘nd what? you think that’s an excuse to call him up? fuck off with—“ he starts, but you’re quick to match your husband’s energy.
toe for toe, beat for beat you go through your arguments— emotions clawing at one another through the crisp night air, leaving battle scars, making one another bleed.
“who izuku?” you ask exasperatedly, cutting the blonde off with narrowed eyes. “i needed a ride home and he’s my friend. our friend! how many times do i have to tell you he’s not a problem for you!?” you add when bakugou gives you a curt nod, throwing your hands up in the air. “he’s the only fucking person i know in this city aside from you.”
“not this shit again—“ he walks away from you now, eyes rolling and heart pumping wildly in his chest.
following katsuki, you go on. “you left me alone tonight, at a restaurant you were supposed to meet me at. for a date you planned!” you’re pouring your heart and soul out like it’s blood from an open wound. begging him to see the pain that’s been there all along. “i don’t know anyone here, i moved to this city for you and time and time again i’m just the afterthought to you katsuki. i’m not doing this anymore.”
“then don’t? why the fuck do you stick around if that piece of shit nerd is so much better?” bakugou’s screaming and he tells you like it’s obvious, like he’s giving you an easy out to the relationship you’ve built over the years. cutting down the flower before it’s bloomed, offering its sweet scent to the world. “‘cause you love him, right? he’s oh so fuckin’ good to you. you can always count on good ol’ deku.”
so you scream right back, until your throat is raw and your eyes burn with tears. “i love you, not him,” you sniff. “because i’d do anything for you and for once i want you to do the same. to show up to dates on time and to treat me like a priority. like your partner!”
“maybe you ain’t a priority to me.”
no matter how angry he gets, bakugou would never hurt you, never touch you in a way that you wouldn’t like— but in that moment, he knows he’s gone against all of those rules. he regrets the words the instant he says them— he sees it on your face, the flash of pain, the sparkle of tears in your eyes and the room is rendered silent, quiet except for the rain outside and the occasional clap of thunder.
you don’t say anything when you turn on your heel, footsteps light as you tread to the bedroom and bakugou follows suit— bumbling apologies, feeling like he can’t breathe, feeling like he might die when you pull out a small bag already packed with everything that you need. he didn’t mean it, he doesn’t want you to go, why the fuck would he say that?
“where are you going?” the blonde is desperate now, gripping onto your wrist and when you flinch again he lets go like he’s touched something hot. “s’late ,you can’t go anywhere.”
you look up at him like he’s burned you too. “i booked a car to my mother’s, she’s the next town over and clearly this isn’t working out—“
“you can’t go anywhere.” bakugou repeats, quieter now, wavering with gravel etched into his tone. “you can’t—“
“bakugou. let go of me. i need to go.” you push at his chest as he corners you in.”
“katsuki. you can’t—“
“bakugou—“
“katsuki!” you’re facing one another now, chest heaving and his cheeks red from exertion. he’s tired of running from this and from you, bakugou knows you are too, so he hangs his head and says. “for better or for worse.”
“what?”
“for better or for worse, you remember when we took those vows?” of course you do, it’s been but a year since you stood up in front of a crowd of your closest family and friends and told katsuki bakugou you’d go through whatever forever with him. so you give him a nod, lips wobbling and body shaking as katsuki wraps his arms around you. “we’re in our worst right now…i’ve been bad to you, sweetheart. but i swear, fuckin’ promise you…i’ll be better. i’ll do better. for you.”
your fingers sink into the cable knit sweater katsuki wears, you touch him like he’s warm and not something that burns you, and even though silent tears slip down your cheeks, you manage a quiet response. “for me?”
“always for you.”
the bag you’d packed slips from your grip and you can hear your ride pull up on the wet gravel outside— but you can’t bring yourself to pick it up, pick yourself up from katsuki’s grip as you break out into small sobs, slinking deeper into his arms while he brings you into him, pressing his chin to your head.
“promise me katsuki.” the rain beats down on the car parked outside, the horn honking through your worst moments, through your silence.
“i promise, i’ll show you better days.” bakugou swears by it, sealing the deal with a kiss to your hairline.
for better or for worse, he promises you, it’ll be better from now on.
#bakugou x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugou drabble#bakugou angst#bakugou imagine#tteokdoroki#✧ ₊˚੭ — writing#✧ ₊˚💭੭ — aali just posted
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SUN GOD AU: LUFFY x Y/N (part 3)
part 1 part 2
originally requested by @braini-wiz
(cw: fully lore about what characters would be gods of what, slight asl trio setup, slight zolu, poetry as always)
(a/n: idk idk i can't get to the smut im so sorry)
Songs: "Unknown / Nth" by Hozier
words: 1.1k
****
It stings,
becoming a
goddess.
****
Sun god—dess ?
¿ ..,
* *
I—
heat—
squirm
_ ,
in place
¿
where am i?
, !
. ,
wings.
****
“She’s alive!!!”
Luffy shouts, from somewhere overhead. Speaking of, your head is killing you. You scrunch your face against the bright sunshine searing orange onto your eyelids. You sit up, woozy. Are you…are you drunk?
No, worse.
Celestial.
“Shit…,” you mutter, swinging your legs off the bench you’ve been laying on. Something rocks the world sideways, and you gasp.
“Nyoop!” Luffy says as he catches you, midfall. You thunk your head against his chest. You’re so loose, and…heavy. You scrub a fist into your eyes. And then,
you stop.
Oh!
Oh.
“Oh, shit,” you say again, staring at the hottest person you’ve seen in your fucking life. This has been Nika the whole time?!
You stumble to your feet, your weight supported by the sun god of your dreams. “S-sorry!” You say, but the word is sour on your tongue. It doesn’t…fit, anymore.
After all, what have you to be sorry for?
And just like that, it’s gone.
Shame.
Shackles.
A skeleton that is made of bone instead of gold, blood that is not ichor, courage that is human and only ever human, melts away.
You are powerful.
You are strong.
You are as radiant as the sun.
Sun incarnate stands beside you, smiling at your newfound face. It’s the same, but it’s…shinier. Faster.
If that makes sense?
It doesn’t,
but
(that’s okay).
****
The sun goddess has wings.
Gold leaf and elaborate, they stretch out behind you like a monarch butterfly’s. You flap them experimentally, and find yourself floating several inches off the ground. You realight back onto the deck of the ship—for that’s where you are—and suddenly find yourself surrounded by people.
“So…what happens now?”
The sun god beside you laughs, squeezing your warmth into his side. You’re warmer, somehow.
“Now…,” he smiles dazzlingly, two inches from your face. “We say hi!”
The people (gods) gathered around the two of you smile and introduce themselves. Luffy whispers his relationship to them as they speak.
“Nami,” a slender, orange-haired goddess smiles at you. She has a logpose on her wrist. Her skin is smattered in flecks of constellational gold. Navigation, currency, stars.
Sister.
“Nico Robin!” Luffy says, smiling as he gestures toward the mysterious, dark-haired woman in a blue dress. Archeology, historical scriptures, stones.
Sister.
“Ace,” someone who smiles almost as wide as Luffy, shakes your hand with a warm fist. He’s even warmer than you are, now. “Fire, fistfights, and protecting your elders,” he grins.
He smells like cinnamon, too.
“He’s my brother!” Luffy says proudly. “And so is Sabo!”
Another handsome, blond man steps up to shake your hand. His is strong, tough yet flexible. He’s wearing a blue suit, with a strange hat atop his head. He bows, slightly. His lips brush the backs of your knuckles.
“Revolutions, secrets, obsessions,” he introduces his godly dominions with a strange smile on his wide face.
You trust him,
but also
don’t.
“Usopp’s here too! And Sanji, my friends,” Luffy leads you over to a charming male with dark skin and a kerchief around his hair. He’s toying with a slingshot in between dexterous hands. The god of snipers smiles at you sweetly.
Sanji (pale skin, yellow hair, swirly brows) is a chef god, someone who loves the sea and seafood and making girls cum. Oh, he says it with such a blush. Your wings flutter, stardust sparkling off them.
You are the goddess of springtime.
Of dawns and new beginnings.
Of song.
Sweetheart.
“I always did like ya singin’,” Luffy says quietly as he leads you away from the group. There’s another god: a strong, stoic man sitting with his back against the mast, his hands behind his mossy green head.
“Swordsman,” you say, curtsying slightly. This god is like a sleeping tiger. You are afraid of getting bit.
“Zoro,” he says his own name without opening his eyes, or barely even moving his face.
Luffy is undeterred, or else doesn’t care, because he lands in Zoro’s lap to place a kiss on his face. “Zoro’s my first mate!”
He stares cheekily up at you, capuchin smile plastered across his squishy face. You wrap a lock of hair around your finger, twirling it nervously. “S-so nice to meet you,” you stutter out, suddenly cowed by this samurai’s presence.
Swords, sacrifice.
Promises.
First mate.
Luffy squeezes your hands in both of his. “Lemme show ya my room,” he says, scanning your face as your anxiety grows.
Silently, you nod.
****
Luffy leads you across the deck of his sunshine ship, with the figurehead of a sunflower, no—lion.
He opens his captain’s quarters for you, letting you step inside first.
“So…,” he starts, suddenly shy as he watches you twirl around his room. “Whaddya think?”
“I think it’s lovely,” you smile at him, all floaty with your newfound goddess-ness.
“Springtime suits ya,” he says, stepping forward to skim his knuckles down your arms. “Sing for us sometime too, yeah?” He smiles dazzlingly down at you, his face suddenly mere inches from your own.
“Kiss me, sweetheart?”
He asks, raspy.
Luffy’s lips taste like sunlight.
He groans into the kiss, his hands tightening around your waist. Your chiton is gold now, it seems.
His body is strong, lithe, and muscular as he pushes you backwards onto the bed. He slides between your knees, standing in front of you as he cradles your head.
“Sweetheart,” he whispers, stroking his thumbs along your cheeks, “Stay with me for a while, yeah? Let’s have some adventures, mhm? Say you’ll stay…,” he leans forward to press his forehead against yours. His cloud-like hair squishes against your face.
“Say you’ll protect me first,” you counter, “Say you’ll stay with me.”
He snickers,
and then
he laughs.
“Of course I’ll stay with you!” He shouts, sweeping you up in his arms. He spins you around, and you’re dizzy. From the circles or his scent, you’re not sure. But he sets you down and nuzzles your face, kissing at your cheeks and then your chin.
“I was scared ya wouldn’t stick around,” he scratches the back of his fluffy white head.
“Why wouldn’t I?” You tilt your own godly head, butterfly wings slowly opening and closing behind you.
He scuffs his heel against the floor, sheepish. “Sometimes the priestesses just wanna have sex with me ‘n leave.”
He says it so simply, his heartbreak apparent in every syllable.
“Sorry,” you say, wrapping your hands around his. “Those stupid girls didn’t know what they were missing.”
He stops, stunned.
“Even though m’clumsy and break stuff?” He asks, rosy eyes wide.
You shake your head.
“Who cares? I’m clumsy too,” you smile, tugging his arms so he falls into bed beside you. He lies on his back, so you climb over him.
“So…you’re not gonna leave?” He asks hopefully, flush spreading across his cheeks. You shake your head, straddling his hips. He smiles: a truly bright, delighted smile. Full of pearly, square teeth. “Say you’re my sweetheart, y/n.”
“I’m your sweetheart, sun god.”
“And I’m your captain, spring goddess!”
****
#dumpster dive#christ#not me making a hunger games reference#w radiant as the sun#my writing#one piece fanfic#luffy fanfic#luffy x reader#luffy x y/n#luffy x you#gear 5 fanfic#gear 5 fic#gear 5 spoilers#op spoilers
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Kryptonite | Dave York x Reader | One Shot
Rating: EXPLICIT/Mature
Summary: Running into Dave York changes your life and unleashes a new part of yourself.
Inspired by Kryptonite by 3 Doors Down
Tags: dark!Dave York, infidelity, Germany, song fic
Warnings: infidelity, violence and descriptions of violence, death (not Dave or reader), descriptions of blood, murder, self defense, explicit smut (p in v), oral sex (both m & f receiving), heavy groping, choking, smacking/hitting in a sexual manner, knife play, power dynamics, use of “daddy” in a sexual manner (minimal), consensual sex, possible dub con, cream pie
Notes: I wrote this one for the LOML @janaispunk for Christmas 🫶, though you won’t find it filled with Christmas festivities! Huge shout out to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for listening to my ideas, reading through it, and being an overall huge encourager!
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PAY EXTRA ATTENTION TO WARNINGS ON THIS ONE
Words: 7160
THIS STORY CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT AND DARK THEMES. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR THOSE UNDER 18 YEARS OF AGE. MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT
“I took a walk around the world to ease my troubled mind.”
Dave York isn’t a bad guy. If one were to give him a chance, he would explain how he’s actually one of the good guys. He’s simply standing up for those who have been wronged by the fucked up system that abandoned the ones who do the dirty work. It’s all conjecture. How he rationalizes it all away. How he lets himself sleep at night, and go home to his wife and beautiful daughters. He does this for them. He isn’t a bad guy.
Yet, even he starts to see through his bullshit. He won’t admit it, but it’s getting harder to sleep at night. Tonight is one of those nights. That’s how he finds himself wandering the streets of a German city he can’t remember the name of.
The air is just verging on chilly, the breeze whipping at his typically well-kempt hair. He usually keeps to the shadows when he’s managing his side business, worried about being picked up on a camera, but it’s late now. He keeps out of the street lights, the stars shielded by the light pollution.
He inhales deeply. This time tomorrow he’ll be on a flight back to the States and slide into bed next to his wife. He’ll wake up, make lunch for the girls, and take them to school. The perfect all-American family. Dave loves them. His girls are his world. He is doing this for them. Every smile and giggle makes this all worth it. Alice and Molly deserve the world. Sometimes, he wonders if his wife knows. Carol hasn’t said anything, but sometimes he catches her just staring at him. Logic says she just loves him. How many times early on in their life together had he done the same thing? How long has it been since he looked at her with that awe?
If he’s honest, Dave doesn’t give his marriage much thought anymore. It’s something that’s just there like two planets orbiting each other but never intersecting. It’s something that’s just part of the persona of Dave York. The version of him his friends and family know. He is starting to wonder if that man still exists. He’s found himself feeling freer during his “work trips” than he does at home.
If it weren’t for his girls…
Dave can’t finish the thought as he collides with a woman in a blue dress and billowing feather boas wrapped around her neck. You.
“Oh shit!” Dave’s hands shoot out, steadying your form, one on each shoulder.
You let out a soft snort quickly covering it with a giggle. “Oh my god.” You try to sober but fail before another giggle takes over. You buzz with the carefree energy of someone a couple drinks into the evening but not wasted.
Any words forming in Dave’s head die there. Your eyes sparkle with mischief. Your smile leaves him stunned. He’s seen his fair share of women even as a married man, but never crossed the boundary of infidelity. Dave doesn’t label what is about to happen as infidelity because right now he isn’t Dave York from Arlington, Virginia, father to two and husband. Right now, he’s Dave York private gun for hire, or Patrick Smith born in Pennsylvania if you looked at his passport.
“I’m sorry,” you say. Dave’s hands don’t move from your shoulders. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
Dave flashes a smile, the same one he used to pick up Carol years ago, but she’s the furthest thing from his mind right now. “I should be more aware of my surroundings. Especially with such a beautiful woman about.”
Your cheeks flush with heat. He has a sneaking suspicion that it’s not from the alcohol in your system. Dave has never been above sweet-talking to get his way during his time with the agency. “You’re American.”
“Unfortunately, yes.” Dave winks. You laugh. Dave swears he could listen to that sound every day if given the chance. “But are you with anyone? It’s late. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you out here all alone.”
You tilt your head to the side, life glowing in your eyes. Whether you’re always like this or it’s all alcohol-induced, Dave doesn’t know, but he wants to find out. He needs to know.
“And I’m supposed to trust you, Mr. America.”
He chuckles, looking up at the sky for a moment before bringing his gaze back to you. He can’t stop taking you in. You feel like a breath of fresh air in his stifling life. He smiles, the first time he’s felt fully himself in possibly years. “My name is Dave.”
You glance between his hand and his face, sussing out if he is trustworthy. He seems so, comes across as genuine. He’s a bit older than you, but handsome nonetheless with big brown eyes and the sincerity of a well-raised child.
You inhale deeply, choosing to be a little wreckless for once and jump head first into something. What’s the worst that could happen? You take his hand.
“I watched the world float to the dark side of the moon.”
It’s probably a stupid choice, but Dave gives you his number. His real number. He doesn't have enough time to see you again before he leaves Germany and he isn’t ready to let this go yet. He escorts you safely to your apartment, chatting idly over the 10-minute walk and the 30 minutes you spend on the front stoop. As he goes to leave, you stand on tiptoes, pressing your lips against his. In return, he pushes you against the front door, hands roaming up your sternum. You giggle at him like a smitten schoolgirl and hand him your phone.
Dave has a second number. He could’ve given you that one. He probably should have, but he wants easier access. He risks it. Dave is not a careless man, but he leans into the easiness of it in the moment. He kisses you again before leaving, much more chastely this time. He promises to see you next time he’s in town. He tells you he does business in Germany often. It won’t be long.
His veins buzzed with electricity the whole walk back to his apartment, his body alive in a way that feels almost supernatural. As he crosses the threshold, his phone pings with a text from an unknown number. Dave knows who it is before he looks at the text.
Over the next two weeks, Dave finds himself instantly reaching for his phone with each ping. The time difference is a pain in the ass but sometimes works in Dave’s favor. Like when Carol is sound asleep and you’re wide awake across the sea.
When the call comes through from a contact that they’re ready to move in on a target in Germany, Dave almost jumps up in celebration. He’s never hit the tarmac with his bags packed so fast. He tacks on a couple extra days to visit you.
Those extra days can’t come soon enough. He always prides himself on his ability to compartmentalize. He can tune out the rest of the world, get a job done with the precision of the assassin he is, and return to life as if nothing happened, but this time, he finds himself rushing through the process, eager to get to the finish line, eager to get to you.
However, when the night of the hit comes, he slips right into Dave York The Killer, cold, heartless, robotic. The crew is smaller this trip, the target not as high profile, but still a big payout. He forces himself to stay steady, forces himself not to speed through his progressions. The team doesn’t notice a difference in him. He takes that as a good sign. The target is asleep, alone, thank god.
Dave slides the knife into the victim’s chest. He’s lying if he says he doesn’t find a particular beauty in it. The firm pressure, the slice of the knife, the crimson blood. It’s always a rush, the planning, the practice, the kill, and Dave enjoys it all. This particular hit sends an extra rush of pleasure through his veins.
He takes the train to get to you, fighting the urge to show up on your doorstep in the wee hours of the morning. Dave York is not a patient man, but he somehow manages, pacing his hotel room still as he buzzes with the high of the night’s hit and the excitement of seeing you in the morning. You recommended meeting at a small cafe, but as Dave lays awake with the sun peeking through the curtains, he decides to surprise you at the apartment.
Dave has to force himself not to rush, which seems to be becoming a theme with him. He makes himself a cup of coffee in the hotel room and sits down drinking every drop until he can’t stand to wait any longer, leaving his hotel 30 minutes before he needs to.
Dave could’ve taken time to enjoy the city in daylight. He spends so much of his time in these destinations under the cover of darkness, missing the beauty, but he doesn't. He wants to believe he keeps to his training, keeping an eye out for someone following him and staying out of the view of cameras, but the truth is, he’s completely unaware of it all. His sole purpose is to get to you.
When your apartment building comes into view, he finally slows, aware of how early he is. Hell, he’s supposed to meet you there.
One of your curtains is open, giving him a faraway view into your apartment. Dave has fully accepted that he’s verging into creep territory, but he doesn’t care. It’s been two weeks since he’s laid eyes on you. That’s two weeks too long for him.
He holds his breath, waiting in anticipation for a glimpse of you, patience dwindling within a few minutes of waiting. The anticipation grows into anxiety. Did he come to the wrong building? That’s impossible. Dave never forgets places, even if he did, he would never forget yours. Are you home? Did you forget? He studies the window searching for any evidence of life. Has something happened to you? Oh god, has someone connected the two of you? Figured out his whole facade? He has half a mind to break down the door and go in guns blazing.
His phone pings. It’s the only thing that could break his concentration. Your name pops up, granting him instant relief.
See you in 20?
He smiles, glancing back up toward the window. You are okay. Everything is okay because Dave is a smart man. He knows how to cover his tracks, and you are a sacred treasure he wants to keep all to himself. He will hide you away, protect you from it all.
He catches the subtle flutter of the curtains. The world around him becomes nonexistent as his full attention is pulled toward the window. She moves into view, head whipping around as you search for a specific item. He smiles, all of the anxiety leaving his body.
Instead of responding via text, he hits the call button. The dial tone plays against his ear. She moves out of view, no doubt searching for her cell.
“Hello?”
A smile overtakes his face. Dave can’t remember the last time one did so effortlessly. “Look out your window, Darling.”
His voice sits low in his chest, sending shivers through your body. You pull back the curtain. Dave waves down below. “Are you stalking me now?”
“It’s not stalking if you showed me where you live.”
You bite back your smile, heat gathering in your cheeks. “We were supposed to meet there.”
“I couldn’t wait.”
“Give me two minutes.” You say and the line goes dead.
Dave watches you zip away from the window. The swinging of the curtains is the only indication you were ever there. His chest tightens as he waits. Dave York considers himself a patient man, but he checks his watch for the 5th time in two minutes.
Then your door swings open. You come barreling toward him, a smile plastered to your face. It’s contagious as Dave chuckles, spinning you around like an episode of The Bachelor. His lips are warm against your cheek. “I’ve missed you, darling.”
A shiver runs down your spine as your feet plant on the ground. Dave’s warm brown eyes meet yours. “How can you miss someone you’ve hardly seen?”
“How can someone not miss you?” He laughs, fingers weaving with yours.
“You lie, Dave.”
“I could never lie to you.” He winks.
Dave holds your hand all the way to the cafe. He pays for your meal. He’s engaging, charming, making conversation, desperate to know everything he can about you. You’ve never felt such intention from another person.
After the cafe, you walk through town, hand in hand in broad daylight. The conversation continues to flow as naturally as a river. Dave is captivated. There’s no other word for it. He wants you. He never wants to leave. He thinks he may need you for survival.
You steer your steps toward your apartment. There’s a time and a place for subtlety. Today is not that. Dave picks up on it, catching the dilation of your pupils, feeling the shift between you.
But when you make it to the door, Dave plays the gentleman, asking when he can see you again. You cut him off with a kiss, tongue quickly delving into his mouth. His large hands plant solidly on your hips. You pull him inside. Dave remains respectful, but commanding. You eagerly submit to him. He stays the night.
“After all I knew it had to be something to do with you.”
Dave is losing it. One might argue that’s a bad thing. He’s not so sure as his mind is overrun with flashes of you. He’s quick to check his phone each time it dings. He knows better than to assign you a specific tone, but he wants to, even knows which one he would choose.
His team is building quite the reputation in the gun for hire business. They’re turning down jobs, having to play the cautious game of balancing their time between murder and families. They can’t arouse suspicions. They take turns staying stateside, sending in different crews depending on the job and need. Dave accepts every job within a quick train ride of you. He goes on each one. Sometimes it’s just him. Those are the easiest. He doesn’t even need to tell the team. It makes it easy to slip in, add more red to his ledger, and run to you with his hands dripping, metaphorically of course.
He can never stay more than the weekend, usually no more than a night, but you take every moment. He’s a drug you crave, an addiction you can’t kick. In fact, you don’t want to. It doesn’t matter if you never get more than a stolen night here and there, you’ll take whatever you can get running your hands over his toned muscles, tracing the scars littered over his body, some new and red, some old and faded.
It gives him an air of danger that sends a rush through you each time, like there’s darkness embedded in each scar and it seeps into you. The feeling should unnerve you. It doesn’t.
You want to ask, but you bite your tongue. They seem almost glaring compared to the person you know. Dave is sweet and gentle. The most violence you’ve seen in him is the intense fly hunt you went on last weekend as it buzzed intently around the two of you on the couch. You wonder about the stories behind each nonetheless. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.
He leaves again. He always does with the promise of returning soon. He can’t give you a date. He never can. His phone rings as he walks out the door. You catch the flash of a couple on his screen and a woman’s name drops from his lips. He doesn’t know you see it. Carol.
“But still your secrets I will keep”
You’re drenched. Sweat gathers across your naked skin. Dave thrusts into your dripping pussy, cock soaked in your juices. Your moans marry together, echoing off the walls of your apartment at 2 o'clock on a Thursday afternoon.
You called out of work when he appeared on your doorstep without a warning. He seemed broody, crashing his lips onto yours with more force than you were used to, setting your body ablaze in a new way.
Dave’s hips snap into yours with greater force than usual, his grip a little tighter, but it doesn’t hurt. Not how you expect it to. You like it, this rough side, the way his large hand pins both your arms to the mattress. “You’re taking me so good, Darling. Like a good little girl.”
His words strike a chord within you. Your walls tighten around him. You’re close. You know it. He knows it. His fingers run through your sopping folds, flicking at your clit with skill and precision. Your back arches. You feel like you need to crawl out of your skin. “I’m almost there.”
“I know, baby.” He keeps pace, pushing you closer and closer.
The invisible line snaps as waves of pleasure roll over your body. Dave keeps going, so close to his own release. He’s relentless, prolonging your own orgasm.
“I want to finish inside you. Fill you up like a dirty little whore.” Your cunt clenches around him. You’re not sure why his words affect you the way they do, but you love it. He moans. “Please, Darling.”
“Yes,” You hiss, feeling as if your orgasm has started over. “Please, fill me up.”
“Fuck!” Dave thrusts into you. Once. Twice. And then he buries himself into you, filling you with every drop he has.
Once the high settles to a mild thrum and you’ve cleaned up, you sit on the bed, fresh sheets below you, watching Dave as he gathers his things off your dresser. The sex was different this time, good, mind altering.
Dave has yet to put a shirt on. There’s a scar along his back that disappears beneath the waistband on his jeans. You’ve seen it before. You know all his scars, and you’re gathering his secrets too.
“I hope that wasn’t too much,” Dave says, back still turned to you. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he turns to you, with worried eyes. You saw a piece of him today that no one has seen before. Of that, you have no doubt.
“No, I liked it.” A small smirk quirks your lips. “I wouldn’t be opposed to trying some new things.” Heat pools in your belly again. That same darkness flashes in Dave’s eyes. You want to pull it out and learn it.
He chuckles. “I’ll keep that in mind for later.”
He pulls on his shirt, turning his phone back on. Your heart drops, popping the bubble. “You can’t stay.”
Dave sighs. You catch the guilt hanging off of him. “I’m sorry, Darling.”
“It’s okay…”
Dave bites his lip. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise. I-”
“I know you’re married.” It rolls off your lips without a second thought. You’re not sure where it comes from.
Dave’s face pales, tongue going dry as sandpaper. “Darling-”
“And I don’t care.”
The color fills his face again as he steps over to you. “How do you know?”
You shrug, laying back on the bed. “She called you when you were leaving last time. I did my research, Dave York.”
Dave isn’t sure what to think. In his line of work, it’s scary to know you found him on the internet. It’s a safety issue. If something ever happened to Molly and Alice… but he’s trusted you with much more than anyone else.
“You mean it? You don’t care?” He searches your eyes for any doubt, but finds none.
“You’re the one traveling across the ocean to see me. I also think you’re not just ‘working for the government’.”
There’s a deep growl low in his throat. He oozes evil like your favorite book to movie villain, sending shivers through your body. He cups your neck, using force to pull your lips to his. It’s hot and needy like he didn’t just spend the afternoon buried inside of you. His tongue shoves its way into your mouth, fighting with yours. He grabs your ass kneading it in his palms.
Then, he pulls away, voice gravely in your ear. “One of these days I’m going to tell you every single evil thing I’ve done, and you’re going to like it.”
You gasp, toes curling. He keeps eye contact with you, searching for any sign that you might reject him for it. You don’t ask. You don’t scoff. You believe him. You’ve seen the slivers of evil before, felt them. You’re beginning to wonder if they’ve seeped into you too.
Then he’s gone, disappearing like a ghost.
“I picked you up and put you back on solid ground.”
Adrenaline pumps through your veins. Your heart pounds in your ear. You can’t tell much in the dark, except there’s a man in your apartment, clad in black, and it’s not Dave.
You clutch the kitchen knife to your chest, thankful for Dave’s obsession with keeping things sharp. His boots are steady on your hardwood floors, leaving you to wonder if you’re safe huddled in the corner, or if you should sneak up behind him. Dave taught you to attack only if you are sure you can land a debilitating blow by surprise. You’re not a trained fighter. You’re not an assassin. You’re pretty sure Dave is.
Then, you see your chance. A small opportunity where you know you’ll be hidden in the darkness, not exposed by the open window. You know which floor boards to avoid.
You expect it to go by in a blur, but your mind feels clear. The exposed point on his neck calls to you like a beacon. The artery. He’ll bleed out before he knows what’s happening. Dave’s voice echoes in your head.
Your knife sinks into his neck, slicing skin and tissue like it’s softened butter. You pull the knife out, it drips with crimson blood. He tumbles forward, your lamp shattering into a million tiny pieces as he falls forward.
“You bitch!” He manages to his feet, blood spurting out of his neck. He tries to cover it with his hand, but he’s already losing color in his face. He stumbles toward you. You easily step out of his path, sinking the knife into his chest cavity. It’s more difficult, but you know when you hit his lung.
You watch him fall to the floor, air wheezing from him like a punctured balloon as he coughs and sputters. He’s trying to speak, but can’t. You cock your head to the side, watching it happen, watching the life drain from his eyes, listening to his final breaths. You did that. You took down a man bigger than yourself with two quick blows, without hesitation.
You can feel the thick, red blood dripping off your fingers, soaking into your clothes.Your chest heaves. The knife clatters to the floor. You turn your hands over. You should want this off of you, scratching at the skin to remove it. Instead, you just stare in awe.
Dave appears, heart racing as he takes in the scene. He was gone for only a few hours. A quick job in a neighboring town. “Darling?”
You don’t respond, still inspecting your coated hands. He puts a hand on your shoulder, desperate to know that you’re okay. You jump, eyes blow wide.
“What happened?”
“I don't know. I woke up and he was here… I just- I did what you taught me.”
Your eyes focus on him. He’s in weird clothes- tactical gear. He probably killed someone tonight too.
“Are you okay?”
Your eyes snap back down to your hands. Are you okay? You don’t remember getting hit or knocked over, just the steel blade sinking into flesh over and over and over.
“Darling, look at me!” His hand wraps around your neck and your back hits the wall.
Your eyes snap to him. Your heavy breaths mingle together in the deafening silence that coats your apartment. His eyes are dark. Darker than you ever remember seeing them. You think, maybe, there’s a hint of cruelty floating in them.
“You’re okay.” His eyes scan over you to assure himself as well. He reminds himself that blood is not yours.
Your eyes drift back toward the body. The body that used to house a person with a life and family and-
“Look at me.” Dave’s voice is commanding, forcing obedience. The other side of him is coming out. This is not the Dave you know. It’s the one you’ve caught glimpses of. The one he told you about. This Dave is a monster. A monster you should run from.
“You did nothing wrong. He would’ve killed you.” His hand presses into your neck again. “You did the right thing.”
You thought this moment would break you, losing your Dave, but this Dave is yours too. You thought the monster would scare you. It’s everything you’ve ever stood against, but you want the monster.
A thrill shoots through you, unlocking a deep urge. The world should be blurry, hazing like the TV shows when someone experiences a trauma, but it’s buzzing around you instead. Your senses feel heightened.
Dave says your name. You look up at him. Time stands still. He knows you know. It’s a question of if you will accept it. You shouldn’t. You’re too good for him. He shouldn’t tarnish you, but he catches that look. It’s everything he feels after a kill. The adrenaline rush, the buzz of life through your veins. Maybe he didn’t tarnish you. Maybe he unlocked something in you. Your bloodied hands tangle in his thick hair as he surges forward lips colliding with yours.
This is wrong, so wrong. Another man’s blood is literally on your hands as they tangle in Dave’s hair. You should be disgusted with yourself. This is wicked. You’ve run from the wickedness your entire life. Now you feel like you should have embraced it. He bites your lip, so hard there’s a metallic taste in your mouth. It only spurs you on. A familiar ache grows in your core. Your teeth nash against his, meeting each of his tortuous movements.
His hand squeezes your neck just enough to make your head go dizzy. You should hate this. You should despise this, but your cunt clenches again. “You like that don’t you?”
He loosens his hold, the blood rushing back quickly. It’s a new rush, crashing over the edges of your heightened senses. You feel as if every nerve ending in your body is on fire and you never want it to stop.
His rough voice presses to your ear as he caresses your exposed neck reminding you how fragile your own life is. “The little slut likes when I get rough.”
You whimper at his words, your underwear growing wetter with each passing second. His knee presses between your thigh, granting some tension to your aching core. You move your hips against it. “Not so fast, Darling.” He tightens his grip on your neck, pressing you further against the wall. “You think just because you killed him you’re in charge now?”
Another whimper falls from your lips. An involuntary tear seascapes the corner of your eyes, beginning its descent. Dave’s eyes flicker to it, head cocking to the side. His eyes look different- wild verging on insane. You should be scared, but it’s still Dave. You trust him. Then his tongue is against your cheek, wiping it away with a long, slow swipe. Your nipples pearl under your thin nightshirt.
He whispers in your ear. “I'm in charge. Do you understand?”
You nod.
“Good.”
He produces a knife out of thin air. It’s one you’ve seen before. He’s sharpened it at your kitchen counter. He brushes the tip along your collarbone. Your eyes track its every movement. It’s not enough to cut you, but enough that you can feel how sharp it is. Your heart thuds harder, but your hips move against his knee of their own accord.
He clicks his tongue, forcing the knife down in a single swift movement. You cry out, expecting to feel pain, only to find your chest exposed and your nightshirt torn down the middle. He hand gropes your breast, squeezing it like a stress ball. A gasp falls from your lips as his finger runs over your nipple.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.”
By your neck, he leads you in front of him to the bathroom. He kicks the door shut, pressing you against it. He produces the knife again, running it through your pajama shorts. The scraps fall to the floor, leaving you in the delicate lace pair of underwear you wore in anticipation of Dave’s arrival.
His tongue clicks appreciatively. The tip of the knife traces over the lace. You whimper, eyes falling closed. He falls to his knees.
“So pretty.” Dave presses his mouth to your clothes cunt. He works his tongue over the thin fabric, pulling it between his teeth. It’s just enough to tease and not enough to provide relief.
“Dave.” It comes out so hoarse you don’t recognize your own voice.
He grins up at you, pulling the knife through your underwear with a rehearsed flick of his wrist. They join your shorts on the floor. You’re bared to him while Dave is fully clothed.
You catch the blood in his hair, splattered on his clothes. It’s drying on your skin now. You know you should be repulsed by it, but the thought of what you did still makes you buzz to life.
“Stay right there.” He eases to his feet. “I mean it. Don’t move.”
He turns on the shower, pushing the hot water all the way. As steam starts to fill the room, Dave removes his clothing item by item. He’s not making a show of it per se, but he is commanding, concise. He pulls another knife from his belt and sets it on the counter. Your breath catches and he makes eye contact. A whisper of a smirk plays on his lips. “Standing so still for me, darling.” You squeeze your legs together, feeling the familiar squelching between your vaginal lips.
You eye the knife a moment longer, biting your lip. Something about it calls out your name. You’re not sure if you should grab it and find the nearest person to plunge it into or if you want Dave to use it with you, on you.
Dave catches the glimmer in your eyes as you eye it. A newfound excitement tugs in his belly. A whole new world is opening before him. One where he doesn’t have to hide all this shit from you, one where you might enjoy it too. You’re not shutting down after killing that man, his body cooling on your living room floor. You liked it. He likes it.
He kicks off his boots and socks. His pants follow. Your eyes travel over his body. The scars make sense now. You still don’t know what Dave does, but you know it’s bad. There’s a small band across his ankle that houses another knife. You should hate him for all of this, kick him to the curb. Instead, your cunt is soaking, and you’re not sure you’ve ever wanted him more.
He chuckles as you eye the knife on his ankle. It’s the only thing he wears other than his briefs now. His dick bulges, usually pulling your attention, put you can’t pull your eyes away from the knife.
Pulling off his underwear, Dave comes back over to you, pressing his body against yours. His teeth scrape over the veins of your neck and he bites down on your earlobe as his hand tangles in your hair.
You release a soft yell. You barely recognize the man in front of you, but it doesn’t matter.
He grips your thigh, hiking it over his hip, running his dick through your sopping cunt.
“You like my knives, Darling?”
You nod as pleasure plays like a movie across your body.
He gips your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Use your words.”
“Yes.” It barely comes out.
His brows raise in amusement. “Would you like me to use them?”
“You won’t hurt me.” You say it as a statement.
Flashes of his softer side show before he clamps them down. “I won’t hurt you.”
“Yes.” It’s almost a yell.
Without hesitation, he grabs the knife off the vanity, pressing it to your neck. “On your knees.”
You obey coming face to face with his hard cock. The knife stays against your delicate flesh.
“You know what to do, baby.”
Again, you obey, taking it into your mouth. The knife is cool against your neck, the only reminder it’s still there. You don’t know how it never pierces your flesh either by dumb luck or expert skill.
Dave’s hips thrust forward, almost triggering your gag reflex. Tears fall from your eyes. Curses sputter from Dave’s lips as he uses your mouth. “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”
You breathe from your nose, forcing yourself to nod.
“Shit!” Dave curses, pulling out of your mouth. “I’m going to paint that pretty pussy of yours.”
Your cunt clenches as a small moan tumbles from your lips. He chuckles, hand closing around your neck once more as he ushers you into the shower.
The water is hot, burning against your skin as if it might melt your skin off. Dave holds you under the water. Your breath catches as your body screams out. The water beneath you runs red as the blood washes from your skin.
Your back hits the cool tile wall granting relief from the scalding water. He lathers soap over the parts of your body still stained red, fingers occasionally brushing under your breasts, tweaking nipples.
“You’re so beautiful, darling. Even covered in blood.”
You whimper again, senses overloaded from the trauma, the rush, the teasing. “Dave, please.”
“Please what? You have to use your words, Doll.”
Your walls constrict again, desperate to be around something. Your arms and legs are heavy with need. He’s never used that term with you before. It should be degrading. It is, but it sets another wave of pleasure. You wonder if it’s possible to orgasm virtually untouched. If it is, you’re close.
“Fuck me.”
His tongue clicks as he floats around yours, almost taunting you. He grabs your boob, hard enough it should hurt. It does a little, but pleasure overrides the pain.
“Ask nicely, Doll.”
His finger trails over your collarbone traveling between your breasts and down across your hip. Your thighs squeeze. His palm slips around as he grabs the back of your thigh, kneading it.
“I said.” His words come out like a punch. Concise. Almost sharp. “Ask. Nicely.” He pushes your thigh over his waist, forcing your supportive leg to your tiptoes.
You feel his cock near your entrance, brushing your pussy lips. You moan, hips bucking. He pushes against your neck, running your head into the tiles behind you. “You little slut. You think you can just take it.”
You gasp. “Please.”
“What do you want?”
“I want your cock inside me, Daddy.” It tumbles out of your lips before your brain catches up.
He thrusts his cock into you, sheathing himself fully, hitting the deepest parts of you. Then he’s gone, making you feel empty but only for a second until he enters you again. His hand squeezes tighter around your neck. You come for air as he continuously splits you apart thrust by thrust, pulling out almost fully each time.
Your moans are loud, drowned out by the steaming shower. Tears gather in the corners of your eyes. Dave pays you little mind, shows little care as he continues with a brutality you’ve never encountered, a brutality that only makes you soak his cock. He doesn’t slow. You don’t want him to. He never touches your clit, but you're propelling forward, chasing that high in a way you never have.
The pitch of your voice steps up. The spasm starts in your stomach traveling down to your core as you flutter around Dave’s cock. Your supporting leg shakes. Still, he never eases up, working you through your orgasm.
It hits you like a punch to the gut, a scream piercing the air. Your scream. Dave doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stutter. He keeps pace, chasing his own release.
With each thrust, you yell. You hear the squelching of your sopping cunt against his dick over the roar of the shower. His continuous movements extend your release until he finally buries himself inside you, coating your pussy with his cum. “Such a perfect little doll for me.”
You let out a final whimper as he pulls around, dropping your leg. Your knees buckle. You barely keep yourself upright, legs tingling and shaking.
Dave kisses your cheek. The softness causes a sense of whiplash. He glances over your body, making sure the blood is cleared from your skin and hair. He rinses the blood from his hair as your brain slowly returns to the world. You expect to be exhausted, and you are, but there’s still that low buzz deep within your body.
You killed a man. You took a life. You should feel bad. There’s a fucking body in your living room, but all you can think about is the rush. You liked it. Watching Dave, you wonder if he feels the same way. There’s no doubt to you that he’s taken lives before. You wonder if he knows how many.
The water stops. Dave dries you off with the soft bath towel. He helps you into his soft white t-shirt and tucks you into bed.
“I need to make a call.” He kisses your head and shuts himself in your bathroom. You hear him on the phone, but his words are muffled by the door.
You lay on your back, sheets cool against your hot skin. Staring at the ceiling, you can still feel the blood dripping from your hands, hear the piercing of the knife. You heart rate picks up. What would it be like to do that again? Would you feel the same rush of adrenaline? Would it feel better?
Dave comes out, tossing his cell on the nightstand and sliding under the covers. His hand covers yours.
“What about…?”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s taken care of.”
You don’t ask. He probably knows people. His fingers drift over your cheeks and jaw. They skim lower, following the same path down your neck as your arteries. They feel cool against your skin, drawing patterns where you anticipate bruises tomorrow.
“Did I hurt you?”
He’s almost back to the Dave you know, soft and kind, but you still catch the edges of his dark side. He’s more of a blend now. You think you might be getting the real, true Dave now.
“No,” you shake your head. There was pain. You’ll be sore tomorrow, sport a few scrapes and bruises, but it doesn’t feel like he hurt you.
Dave kisses your forehead, fingers tracing your collarbone now. A question forms in your head, gnawing at the corners of your brain.
“Dave?”
“Hmmm?” He sees distracted, entranced as he follows his hand over your skin, skimming the tops of your breasts. Your nipples tighten making you curl your toes with a familiar tug of desire. How are you ready to go again after that?
“What if I liked it?”
His eyebrow quirks. “The sex?” he pinches your hardened nipple making you gasp.
“All of it?”
His palm stops. The pitch of his voice deepens. “All of it?”
You bite your lip, nodding.
“Use your words, Doll.” He cups your breath, teasing your nipple more. His breath is hot in your ear. “Tell me what you like.”
“I-” Can you really say this out loud? Will it blacken your soul? Or is it already charred and damned.
“Tell me.” He smacks your chest like a parent might smack their child’s hand away from an electrical outlet.
Your pussy clenches as you squeeze your legs together. He smacks your other breast in the same manner. You gasp, practically yelling out your answer. “Killing him.”
The air stands still. For a second, you expect a look of disgust to cross Dave’s face. Instead, a smirk grows. “You liked that?”
You nod, not able to say anything else. Dave climbs on top of you, kicking away the covers. He pushes his hand up your sternum, kneading your breast before running it back down. He repeats the motion, rotating between the two. Moans grow in your chest. He bites your earlobe.
“Did you like the way the knife slid into him?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, Daddy,” Dave growls in your ear.
“Yes, Daddy,” you repeat between moans. Your sopping hole drips onto the sheets below you. Dave’s motions steadily grow in intensity.
“Did my doll like the way her body felt alive? Like you absorbed that bastard's energy.”
Tears drop from your eyes. You want him again. You need him again. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Does my doll want to do it again?”
“Yes, Daddy.” You practically scream. You should be ashamed of the answer. You should be ashamed that there isn’t an ounce of hesitation in your being.
“Fuck,” Dave says, shoving your legs apart. He pushes his cock inside you again. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll make sure you will.”
Dave moves inside you. It’s not as violent, not as torturous as earlier, but it’s just as satisfying. The promise of more ignites a fire inside of you.
Dave takes you to the brink, pushing you until you pass out from exhaustion, spent, used, and sated.
“I’ll keep you by my side with my superhuman might.”
When you wake up the next morning, the body is gone. The lamp you broke is replaced and a new area rug is delicately placed in your apartment. Not a speck or splatter of blood can be found anywhere. Dave stands in the kitchen gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He cooks eggs on the stovetop and a steaming cup of coffee sits on the counter.
You wrap your arms around him. He hums. His skin is warm beneath your cheek, heart beating against your palm. “I like the rug.”
“Me too.”
“Kryptonite”
#dave york#dave york x reader#dave york x you#dave york x female reader#dark!dave york#dark!fic#pedro pascal#the equalizer 2
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Kinktober 1 - Monster Fucker
John Doe x Reader
Warning: Smut, stalking?, putting my own twist on the story a little bit, shape shifting, magiiic woooo, tentacles, praise, smidge of plot
"Did you eat dinner already?" You asked, eyes practically sparkling as you looked up at him.
"Yeah but I could eat again! I only really had a sandwich so eating again would probably be good." He giggled.
"Perfect, is grilled cheese and soup good?" You looked at him and he nodded.
You made dinner together, asking him to stir the pot occasionally. You plated up and ate together, talking more and introducing yourselves better.
He was a really nice guy, he had a pet rat that he rescued and was in school to be a dentist.
(Smutty part)
You turned a movie on and began to feel tired, you looked up at Doe who was very focused on the TV.
"Doe? Are you tired?" You yawned, back pressed to his chest as you stretched, feeling him stiffen.
"Yeah I- Mmm." He groaned, putting a hand over his mouth, you felt him start to get hard under you.
"I'm so sorry! I should've been more careful." You said putting your hands on the couch to sit up but his hands immediately went to your waist, and again it looked like there were 4 fingers but for only a split second. You really were tired.
"Please don't! I.." He sighed, "I think you're really really pretty, and interesting and nice. If you don't want this it's okay but I do."
You nodded. It WAS a weekend and he was really really cute.
"Okay, then.." You turned over sitting on his lap but now facing his face, "Where do you want me?"
His eyes widened and the TV changed, static ringing in your ears as the screen changed.
"You're room. You have a mirror up there." He whispered.
You nodded and got off him, taking his hand in yours once again to go back to your bedroom.
Once you reached your door, he opened it and picked you up. He laid you on your bed and as he looked at you, the lights began to flicker, didn't you just change these bulbs?
"You look beautiful." He whispered, kissing your neck.
The bed began to shift as his weight towered over you but you swore you felt the bed raise rather than fall? You opened your eyes and the man before you had changed almost completely.
Thick curly hair was now thin and messy, no longer in the ponytail he wore only a couple seconds ago. He was pale and lanky, his hands only had 4 fingers, like you'd seen before.
You could feel his wide grin on your neck and his breath became shaky as he pressed himself against you. You put your hands under his shirt and your hands almost completely wrapped around his waist.
"Doe." You whined, feeling him grind against you.
"God you feel so good. How did I get so lucky." His voice was low and raspy as he bit your neck and let out a loud moan.
You didn't notice both your clothes were gone till he pressed his hands into your hips and something spongy writhed against your thighs.
You looked down, tentacles. He had tentacles.
You were always into monsters, they just itched somewhere in you that you couldn't reach with normal men.
The more you thought the hornier you got. He has tentacles, large hands, odd powers that effected the environment around him, he was strong and most importantly he was kind and was very very infatuated with your body.
"Please.. Please please please, You. Can I be inside of you, I can't wait anymore." He begged, today could not have gotten better.
"Yes - fuck - Yes please. Fuck me." You whined.
You gasped as they entered you. They were squirming and stretching you, reaching and pressing parts you couldn't.
"Oh my God, You. You have no idea how long I've waited for this." He moaned. "Months. Months of waiting. Trying to win you. Trying to be good for you..And now I have you, Ah, all to myself."
"How?.." You groaned, trying to get the words out to finish your sentences before a pathetic whimper left your mouth.
"I'll explain soon, just focus on me. On only me."
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Love at First Bite pt. 2💞
David/Female!OC & Male!OC/Female!OC
Summary: Sis can't stop thinking about the adorable redheaded waiter that treated her like the queen she is. Once she and the pack get to know him a little better, he'll see them for what they truly are~
This was inspired by @ghoulgeousimmaculate and her characters from the series Party the Pain Away and the various fics that take place afterwards. Ghoulie and I discussed the possibility of having another boy join the coven after so many girls were brought in. Please read part 1 if you haven't yet!
WARNINGS: Fic contains mentions of fear, emotional manipulation, power dynamics, toxic relationship dynamics, PDA, mentions of blood/murder, sex and alcohol. This has references to Ghoulie's stuff, and takes place in the modern world, not 1987. Part 3 HERE
"You're serious?"
"Absolutely! You should have seen him, hun. He was the cutest thing I've ever laid eyes on"
It gave Gem quite a surprise to see her sister bride in such a cheery mood. After the last few difficult months for the pack, she had been worried about Sis and her psyche facing permanent damage. Becoming a vampire came with its own mental and physical tolls. What Cyrus had put them all through was an entirely new level of suffering.
And yet, here she was. All doe-eyed and sappy like a schoolgirl with a crush. The happiest she had been since her resurrection. Usually only being with her babies made Sis act like herself again. This human boy had to be pretty special.
"And you don't want to bring him over for a fuck and a meal?"
"Surprisingly, I don't. At least….not right now," Sis explained. She smiled to herself as she fell back onto the couch, putting her feet up on Gem's lap to relax. "I dunno, he was just such a sweet guy. Genuine, polite, doting. You don't see many boys like that anymore."
Gem smirked, rubbing her queen's legs as she listened to the story. Seeing her in such a good mood had Gem feel quite pleased as well. It made her quite curious as to what potential could be in a human.
"Well, we are due for a girl's night out. How about we ask the boys to watch the babies and then you, me, Babydoll and Red go out for some fun," Gem proposed. "You can introduce us to the human."
The mere idea made Sis' eyes sparkle in delight. She was already excited to pick out her outfit for such a special occasion. Something truly special for a well-deserved night of fun.
Oliver's shift honestly could have been better that night. He was out of the zone. Forgetting to put in a large order, giving three different tables the wrong drinks, and getting yelled at by an elderly couple for having the audacity to forget their senior discount. He felt so clumsy and careless. It was rather embarrassing.
What didn't help was that his coworkers were noticing. They had been in the game long enough to recognize when one of their fellow servers was having a rough night.
"Hey Ollie!" one server greeted him, making small talk while punching in an order. "You feeling alright? Need a smoke break?"
"No thank you, I don't smoke," Oliver explained as he tried to organize a messy stack of menus. "And I'm fine. I just…my mind hasn't been where I want it to be lately. I'm not usually like this, I swear."
The server smiled and gave Oliver a friendly pat on the back. He definitely had nights like that too.
"Something on your mind?"
"Well….someone actually."
Oliver knew exactly what was making him trip over himself and act like his head was in the clouds.
Sis. He could not stop thinking about her. Though he was grateful for her generosity when she paid him a large enough tip to pay his rent that month, that wasn't at all the reason he had such a deep infatuation.
She had this magic to her. Like an aura of true beauty. Though her curves and her flawless looks definitely showed how stunning she was on the outside, Oliver had a deep feeling that there was something truly remarkable about her on the inside too.
Growing up, he was taught that you could learn a lot about a person just by how they treated a stranger. Especially if that stranger was a poor, struggling service worker. The world wasn't always kind to people who had a difficult life.
He didn't know what it was about her, but he just had a feeling she understood him. That she knew compassion could go a long way.
"Well, Romeo, you might wanna get your head back in the game," the server interrupted his thoughts. "You got company."
"Salve signore! Right this way!"
Giuseppe had welcomed a group of ladies into the restaurant, ushering them to the back area just as he did the other night for David and Sis.
And speaking of which. The lady at the head of the pack was a familiar one. It was her.
Sis.
Once again she was all glammed up from head to toe, though instead of being out on a date with her husband, she seemed to be enjoying a girls' night out. The three other ladies that walked past the curtain were all quite stunning in their own ways, but he couldn’t take his eye off of Sis.
His staring must not have been as subtle as he hoped it would be, because while the other girls made their way to the back, Sis stopped in her tracks, glancing his way. Oliver stood as still as a statue, not sure exactly what to do in terms of movement.
Thankfully, he didn't have to stay like that for very long. To his utter joy, a smile formed across her beautiful face, showing off her perfect pearly whites. Sis crooked her finger, beckoning him in a come hither motion before disappearing behind the dark curtain. To say she enchanted Oliver was quite an understatement.
Instead of standing around, Oliver hustled to get enough silverware and menus for four ladies. He'd never been more eager to work in his life.
"Hello again~" Sis greeted Oliver with a purr as he entered the private area. "I was hoping you'd be here again tonight."
"Oh? You were?" Oliver asked, feeling his heartbeat ramp up in speed. "Well, I'm really glad to see you again too, Miss!"
The gaggle of ladies all shared a round of playful giggling, like schoolgirls with a secret.
"Awww! You weren't kidding! He's a total sweetie pie!" a fellow redhead chirped.
"So you're the famous Oliver," a brunette with green eyes commented. "Sis has told us so much about you!"
Oliver would be lying if he said he wasn't flattered by that. His stomach was practically doing backflips with the amount of butterflies he was feeling. He wasn't used to such compliments.
"O-Oh! Well, I'm very honored," he smiled. "It's really nice to meet you all!"
His words trailed off after his greeting. He wasn't sure how to get the right words out in order to ask for their names as well, but they all seemed to get the hint as to what he wanted to say.
"Gem."
"Red."
"Babydoll!"
They all have such different names. Very….creative, Oliver thought to himself. It must be a California thing!
He finally felt comfortable enough to perform his job properly once the introductions were done. As per Sis' request, he brought back the same brand of Chardonnay he got her the last time she was there. This time, he was determined not to spill any on their gorgeous outfits. When each glass was equally filled, the girls all clinked their drinks to share a toast.
Oliver put in the same energy when he took their orders. Each lady knew exactly what they wanted, and they cooed at him to hurry back since they'd miss him. It put quite a dopey smile on his boyish face.
Little did he know that his coworkers were watching him with a look of dread in the corners of the restaurant. They all knew the secrets that Sis and her lovers shared. Oliver wasn't ready to see the deadlier side of the brown-eyed beauty.
"You really are too good to us, Ollie," Sis complimented the redhead boy when he set all their entrees down. Even with a table completely covered in the finest Italian cuisine imaginable, she kept her gaze fully locked on him.
Almost like he was the one she found to be the most delicious.
"It's nothing, really! I'm just happy to make up for my wine snafu from last time."
"Speaking of wine," Gem spoke up, taking Sis' chin in between her manicured figures and tilting them in her own direction. "I wanna see if I can taste the Chardonnay on your lips, hun~"
Oliver only got to ponder what she meant for a mere second before getting a shocking answer. Gem pulled her into a deep kiss, moaning softly as both pairs of plush lips pressed together. Without much influence, Sis immediately melted into it, smiling and wrapping her arms around her lady friend.
His green eyes were practically bulging out of his head as the two of them began passionately making out just a mere foot in front of him. Oliver turned towards Red and Babydoll to see if they were just as surprised, but found instead they were looking at him as if he were the odd one. They raised their eyebrows up at him, curious at his gawking.
Perhaps it wasn’t the right time to stick around and just stare with an open mouth like a codfish.
“Y-You ladies enjoy! I’ll be back later!”
Oliver practically kicked up dust behind him from how fast he got out of the private dining section. He had already seen Sis get rather intimate in the restaurant already. But he hadn’t expected to see it between her and someone other than her husband.
Flashbacks of the last time when she made flirty gestures at him while literally riding David were coming back to him. He didn’t understand the behavior fully, but what he was absolutely certain about was how stunning she was. So confident, so beautiful, always knowing exactly what she wanted, yet still showing gratitude when she got it.
It made him ever so curious about whether he truly had a chance with a woman like that. Compared to people like David and Gem? Fat chance, he thought to himself.
Time passed by, and the night was finally winding down. Oliver and his coworkers had split their tips, cleaned up the restaurant, and helped set up for what they needed the next day. In between his tasks, he had stopped in to check on Sis and her friends. They had long since cleared their plates and finished the last sips in their glasses. Yet they seemed to want to stay a bit longer and enjoy some girl time.
So long as it was okay with Giuseppe, Oliver let them be.
By the time everyone else had clocked out and left, he popped his head in one last time to check on them. To his surprise, the three beauties that had come along for the night had already made their leave at some point earlier while he was cleaning up. The one that remained was Sis, sitting pretty in the booth with her fingers intertwined, allowing her chin a place to rest.
She was smiling at him again, a twinkle in her eye as she gestured to the chair placed across from her.
“Care to help me finish off this bottle?” she asked. There wasn’t much left in the second bottle of Chardonnay he had delivered earlier that night, but it was just enough for the two of them to have a little taste. Half a drink wouldn’t kill him.
“Where are the others?” he casually asked as he sat down.
“Oh, they’re outside. Just having a smoke and texting the hubbies.”
Hearing her say that reminded Oliver of David once again. He really wasn’t one to pry, but the curiosity to ask about what kind of relationship Sis had with them all was still there. He would have kept his mouth shut about it if she hadn’t seemed to read his mind on her own.
She pulled her phone out from her purse, maneuvering around the screen until she found what she wanted. Flipping the device around, Sis showed him some pictures of her with various people. Some he recognized, some were unfamiliar faces.
“In case you were wondering, I’m polyamorous. We all are,” she explained. “You’ve met David already. Those three boys are my other husbands. Marko, Dwayne and Paul.”
I didn’t even know you could be married to multiple people in California, Oliver thought to himself. In the first picture, four incredibly handsome men surrounded Sis. Being pansexual himself, Oliver found himself practically swooning at how perfect-looking they all were. As much as he wished to look as hunky as them, he couldn’t blame her for finding all of them attractive.
“They have their own partners too. Some of which I get to date too,” she said, swiping at the screen to show more pictures.
Babydoll being carried by Dwayne, a pregnant Red being held from the back by Marko, Gem and Paul flashing peace signs at the camera, and many more. So many other beautiful ladies were in the arms of these men. It was as if fate had brought the most attractive people in the world together.
“So the other night when you said your ‘girlfriends’, you weren’t just talking about besties, huh?” Oliver playfully commented. To his delight, Sis giggled at him, thoroughly amused. He loved the sound of her laugh. It was as beautiful as her.
“That’s right! And we all have our own families too,” she explained. She pointed out the various babies that various couples had together. Oliver’s heart was melting at the pictures of chubby-cheeked infants with gummy smiles.
One of the final pictures that Sis showed off was a family portrait with her, David, and three little ones. He listened with deep focus as she told the story of her family.
“Laddie is the oldest. I adopted him with Dwayne way back when. He’s also the best big brother to all the others,” she cooed. “The little girl is Eva. My angel on Earth. Her name was inspired by my mother. And that’s Evan. Little mama’s boy in the making, that one.”
“You have a beautiful family, Sis,” Oliver complimented her as he handed back the phone. “I can just tell you’ve got a lot of love for those babies.”
Sis sighed in content, taking a swig of her wine.
“I really do. I don’t know what I’d do without them….”
Though talking about her children seemed to bring her great joy, Oliver couldn’t help but notice there was a lingering sadness in her eyes when she pondered the possibility of life without them. As if that very thing almost happened.
Oliver smiled sympathetically, allowing her to see that he genuinely cared about what she was going through.
“Well….if you ever want to talk about them or anything else on your mind, I’m a good listener! Honest!”
“Thank you, Oliver,” Sis said. She reached out her hand, taking hold of his and giving it a soft squeeze. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”
While puffing away on their cigarettes, the three girls kept their eyes peeled for anyone that would possibly cause trouble. The vampires were always on their highest guard whenever they were out with the queen. Ever since the gruesome night of the beheading, they couldn’t risk being too careful.
There was always someone out there wanting to dethrone the vampire king and queen of Santa Carla. They would be damned if they’d let such a thing happen again.
Sis never wanted to leave the cave alone. She wanted a minimum of two mates by her side, one to watch her front, and one to watch her back. The mere idea of dying again put the fear of God in her. She wasn’t ready to go, especially when her babies needed her to get by in this cruel, cold world.
But something was different. New. There was a sense of hope for her now. Someone kind and gentle and ready to care for her every need. The girls saw quite a lot of potential in Oliver. He was a soft boy and a bit too innocent for the life of a vampire, but he made Sis feel safe again. Like she could live her undead life to the fullest.
But it was up to the king about what they would do next.
“So, she really does like him, huh?” David asked, sharing a video call with the three brides.
“She must since she’s been the calmest I’ve ever seen since….you know,” Gem explained.
David tilted his head in wonder as he thought things over. For years now, he and his brothers had collected quite a few brides to have and to hold until the end of time. Each one shaped to their liking and trained to not run away. They all embraced their vampire nature and were loyal as could be.
He hadn’t considered the possibility of adding a groom for the queen.
“I need more time,” he said. “I still hold a lot of pain from what Michael did to me. To our family. Keep an eye on Oliver for me. I’ll stop by during some dates or send one of the boys along. Really make sure he’s right for Sis.”
“You got it,” Red chirped.
“What happens if he gets your approval?” Babydoll asked.
David’s lips pulled back, a devilish smirk stuck on his handsome face. The gears were already turning quite a bit in his evil head.
“Then we bring him home for training. The little wife needs a pet after all~”
end of part 2
Tag List: @ghoulgeousimmaculate @vampirefilmlover @aairadaebak @thelostone91 @palomam18 @crustyboypix @themarginalthinker @britany1997 @michael-after-hours @6lostgirl6 @kurt-nightcrawler @bezinful @legal-lost-boy @american-idiot-jpg @desoolate @oceansrose2002 @bloodywickedvamp @vigdys @charlizekkelly @crustyraccoon
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Lost (PG10) pt.3
Summary: The world is utterly unfair. He was her most prized possession, her life, her first ever commitment of love. But to him, she was just a mere person lost in his big world.
warnings: ; unrequited feelings; Pierre is a douche , arrange marriage, angst, explicit scenes and languages.
Author's Note~ Heya guys! So it's finally here! Tbe 3rd part of my fanfic.I posted the first chapter of my first ever fanfic! And I'm overwhelmed by the response ❤️ Really Thanks a lot to everyone who had liked the story so far. It's just the beginning of the journey, there's a lot to come. Love You All 😘 Here's my first ever story for you guys. As soon as I finish this one, I'll start taking requests maybe! Till then please show your love and support for "LOST".
Journal Entry - 3
Pain is something that can be forgotten if that one person that you love gives you a smile. Butterflies, jitters, rainbows! Yea, that's my heart right now. I can melt right away. Right in front of him. Pierre Gasly has a beautiful smile!
Those sparkling eyes when he smiles has the power to light up my whole world. But why did he smile at me today?
Let me tell you what exactly happened.
I woke up a little late today because of all the crying I did yesterday. I went into the washroom to take a shower and freshen up and when I saw myself in the mirror I was scared of myself! Like seriously I look like a fucking zombie! Tear stains and melted mascara stains all over my face. But what's worse are my eyes. They were blood red and super swollen. No makeup, no face wash could cover that shit up. But I couldn't let Pierre see me like that. So the only thing that I could think of was wearing sunglasses. BIG BLACK SUNGLASSES! That too inside the house cause I wasn't allowed to go anywhere outside unless it was one of his races or events, where we'd have to pretend to be a super happy and In love kind of a couple. Life Sucks for me. Anyways I changed and was going to go down when I heard noises coming from the kitchen. Other than me no one usually goes inside the kitchen , so who might it be?
A little bit curious and also frightened I went inside the kitchen only to find my ever charming husband sporting the brightest radiant smile I've ever seen. My Husband Pierre Gasly! Standing right there with black shorts and a tight fitting black tshirt. His muscles stretching and struggling from it. The tshirt seems to be too tight but he still looks like a prince.
To be very honest it was a bit weird for me. Okay chuck it! It was very weird for me but I just played it cool by returning a very awkward smile to him.
" Good morning and thanks Y/n" Woah! That was the first time he actually wished me good morning. I seriously felt like I was on cloud 9 but I don't really keep high hopes in life anymore since I have lost a lot of things in this journey.
"Good morning to you too , but why thank you?"
"Oh! Yes, actually thank you for yesterday. You prepared the soup and the medicine for Julia" those words made me want to stab myself . After a whole night of torture and tears he finally finally smiled at me for the first time and that too the reason was Julia. That bitch of a step sister. Who is stealing my husband day by day from me. But who cares if the person who's supposed to actually care does not care about me.
I sometimes think if he ever thinks about me? About my happiness or, I'm just a mere housemate for him? Actually what's funny is that even the housemates are treated better than I am . Also I'm a bit disappointed. Why did he not ask me why was I wearing those hideous sunglasses? Why was I late to wake up this morning? But no, no questions of such were asked by him.
But you know what? I'm not complaining cause this was the first time he actually smiled at me properly.
That's all I've ever wanted. A little bit of genuine recognition from him. Not because of the camera's, not because of the families. Not pretentious.
And so I , Mrs.Y/n Gasly is again LOST!
LOST in His Radiant Smile!
PS - Please lemme know what do you think about LOST and also let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list ❤️
@peachiicherries @crimeshowjunkie @oblomovissad @torossosebs @janeholt3
#pierre gasly x reader#pierre gasly#formula1#f1 x reader#f1#carlos sainz#alex albon#charles leclerc#angst#daniel ricciardo#marriage#arranged marriage#lando norris#lance stroll#max verstappen#kevin magnussen#nico hulkenberg#fernando alonso#lewis hamilton#george russell#oscar piastri#yuki tsunoda#esteban ocon#sergio perez#logan sargeant#zhou guanyu#valtteri bottas#unrequited love#pg10#f1 x y/n
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i made this in june and then procrastinated adding subtitles until now aghdfhadg. anyway, it’s just supposed to be a fun little video with some queer scenes i thought of off the top of my head. hope you enjoy!
[Video Description: White text on a dark grey background that says: "Star Trek Pride - LGBT by cupcakKe. some queer star trek scenes (definitely not all or most of them). In the top left corner is an illustration of the progress flag with rainbow horizontal stripes and with more stripes on the left side of the flag in a V-formation. The outmost stripe being black, then brown, light blue, light pink, white; followed by a yellow triangle with a purple line forming a circle in the middle.
Benjamin Sisko saying: "We're coming out". The song LGBT begins to play. It's instrumental.
Quark saying: "This is time for a pride demonstration."
A woman has her arms crossed. She is standing next to a man who is looking up at her. She says: "Our library is far too sophisticated for a man to comprehend." Cut to Riker who looks away. Behind him are Troi and Yar and Data. Data steps forward as he says: "I'm an android, mistress." The genderqueer flag appears in front of Data's torso, accompanied by three sparkles.
Kirk and Spock are standing in front of each other. Spock says: "I have been and always shall be yours." As Spock speaks it, the word "yours" appears on screen in cursive and surrounded by three sparkles.
Spock sits down on the captain's chair, looking puzzled. In the background nurse Chapel and Uhura walk into frame. They give each other a small hug and they kiss. A heart line appears around them. Chapel walks off into the turbolift. Uhura just stands there for a moment with one hand near her mouth. Three small hearts surround her.
Picard and Riker power-walk with serious expressions through a corridor on the Enterprise. The lyrics of the song go: "fuck out my way when you see me / I'm rollin' with the LGBT"
La Forge and Worf run through a corridor on the Enterprise. The lyrics of the song again: "fuck out my way when you see me"
Spock is lying in a bed in sick bay. McCoy and Kirk stand next to the bed. Kirk has a very concerned expression. He leans over Spock and has his hand on Spock's shoulder while Spock's hand rests on Kirk's arm. Song: "I'm rollin' with the LGBT". The camera angle changes so the viewer looks at Spock from over Kirk's shoulder. Kirk and Spock now hold hands. Song: "I'm rollin' with the LGBT / I'm rollin' with the LGBT"
Jadzia Dax passionately kissing her ex wife. Song: "I'm rollin' with the LGBT / lookin' like we belong on TV / I'm rollin' with the LGBT"
A short shot of Lieutenant Yar, then cut to Counselor Troi who says to Picard: "Lt. Yar is physically very attractive." The song is just instrumental again.
Bashir sitting on a couch. Behind him is O'Brien sitting on something else. Bashir looks at O'Brien who says: "Well, people either love... or hate you". The words "love you" appear on-screen in a soft pink font as they are spoken and the words "hate you" appear in a hard red font as they are spoken.
Cut to a different scene featuring Bashir and O'Brien. They are sitting right next to each other leaning against a wall. Bashir says: "...and I love Ezri. Passionately." There a vocals of the song heard faintly in the background.
Cut back to the first scene. O'Brien is now leaning on the couch near Bashir and says: "I really do!" Bashir looks at him expectantly. O'Brien says: "...not hate you anymore." The words "not hate you" appear on-screen in a soft pink font.
Cut back to the second scene. Bashir says: "It's just that I... like you... a bit more."
Kirk, Spock and a yeoman are on the bridge. Kirk is sitting in the captain's chair. The other two are standing behind him. The yeoman is touching Kirk's lower back. Kirk says: "Dig it in there, Mr.Sp-" but cuts himself off as he notices Spock who stepped next to him so that Kirk can see him standing there. Kirk and Spock exchange a look. The yeoman takes her hand away.
Jadzia Dax and a klingon are hugging. The klingon laughs and says: "Oh Curzon! My beloved old friend." Jadzia answers: "I'm Jadzia now". Light blue, light pink and white hearts appear around her face. They let the hug go and are now holding onto each others' arms. An illustration of a worm on the string coloured as the trans flag appears on screen. The klingon says: "Ah, well, Jadzia! My beloved old friend."
Data walking through the corridors of the Enterprise. There are other officers walking towards him. He changes direction and walks into a corridor on the right. When the other officers get close to him a force-field appears and two of the officers walk into it and fall to the ground. Data keeps walking unfazed. Data has left the frame and the two officers are still on the ground. The song is louder again and the lyrics go: "fuck out my way when you see me / I'm rollin' with the LGBT"
Tuvok jogs through a corridor on the Voyager followed by a couple of crewmembers jogging behind him. Other officers who were walking there have to make space for them and stand with their backs by the wall. Song: "fuck out my way when you see me / I'm rollin' with the LGBT"
Data and Geordi look at each other and give each other a nod. Geordi smiles and his hand rests on Data's shoulder. Song: "I'm rollin' with the LGBT"
Mirror!Kira and Mirror!Ezri standing in front of each other. Kira holds Ezri's chin in her hand. Then they kiss. Song: "I'm rollin' with the LGBT / lookin' like we belong on TV / I'm rollin' with the LGBT"
Odo scoffs, turns and walks away. Song: "I'm rollin' with the LGBT" Cut to Quark standing next to Kira. Quark says: "That man loves me!" The song faintly goes: "I'm rollin' with the LGBT" and then fades out. Quark, turning to Kira, says: "Couldn't you see? It was written all over his back" He then raises a glass he's holding to where Odo had been standing and walks out of frame as well. Description End]
@startrekdescribed
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Genes
CW: Dismemberment, robo gore, bad words, IDW 2005 continuity spoilers, etc.
Blitzwing and his future conjunx start their romance in a very shape of the water kind of style, if the fish man/god was a badmouthed pain in the ass and you didn't have the have the patience to deal with all his shit, but still managed.
I'm totally heartbroken by what they did to Blitzwing in IDW, and while he was a total afthole no one deserves to be dismembered alive, feeling everything and being ignored while asking the minimum mercy of death before the pain of being torn apart alive, no human listen to him and even an autobot ally is there but just ignores it while the hungry power scientist at the moment gets his hands on highly dangerous cybertronian technology, just... the nerve, and it's worse when they go "oh, how could this happen?!" When all goes to shit just like Blitzwing and Jazz said it would, the nerve.
I can totally see a young human taking parts of him out of the searching building just out of spite because we later know they used information of Blitzwing CNA and parts to fuck up even worse the whole situation on earth, but then the human gets on contact, like, a real one, with Blitzwing and can hear his thoughts and his desire when they touch his spark.
He wants to die, to be at peace, to stop feeling pain, it doesn't end there, you are the first connection he had after so long and it's such a pleasurable sensation to feel something alive out of the almost complete silence in the middle of his torture.
War is over, there is a truce and human finally goes out for help to whatever bot or con that is willing to hear, some do get there but there not much to do.
It takes time, and the bond they keep is getting stronger, the human has never seen Blitzwing as a whole but goes around with his spark on a container so big it's almost a traveling backpack, he is still a pain in the ass but human goes with him everywhere.
Just imagine such a big spark on the back of a little human, and the little shit still has the nerve to shout directly to your mind.
Blitzwing hardly says thank you when you get him from one place to another, or when you tell him how his body is being repaired, he doesn't say much apart from the recurrent bad words and how he doubts they are going to get him back right.
The bond is hard, it was desperate at the moment, and you can feel and hear his pain when his spark is put on his recuperated body, then there is silence, one you didn't have since you touched Blitzwing's spark, there is peace and you think that was the end of it, and while it was sad not to hear him anymore it was also so calm to have you thoughts for yourself back.
Jokes on you because he gets his first flight to reach out to you, giving you a slag eating grin while looking at you, "Did you miss me flesh bag?"
How this got to you having Sabersky? Who remembers, really, almost no one knows when you got from point A to point B to point Z and your triple changer sparkling is looking at you with red optics and the same slag eating smile of his sire, asking to be carried while doing the usual baby talk with some clicks and fax machine like noises that only he can understand.
No scientist bot could understand how Sabersky was forged with the frame of a triple changer, but so far bets are on your sparkling's strange mix of scanned human DNA that takes on the necessity to duplicate certain physical characteristics from both parents now converted to the sparkling's CNA.
Sabersky is a triple changer, but no one is sure if he'll stay like that or if he can improve like your species, there is dread and worry in you when your baby takes on his first alt-mode way before any other Terraformer and there are parts that don't exactly look like they belong to a tank or a jet, Blitzwing for another part...
"What you doing kiddo?" Well, Sabersky and Blitzwing, who doesn't use so much strength like you to rise the sparkling on his servo, does understand his sounds to some levela and doesn't care for what the little sparkling can get on, "you wanna fly already don't cha, you little shit?" if anything, Blitzwing is encouraging him.
"Blitzwing, no"
"Heh, babe, his designation is Sabersky for a reason, he'll cut the sky with his powerful wings"
"Blitzwing NO-"
Too late, Sabersky has already been launched from his sire's servo with force enough to make him a little point in the distance by mere seconds, just to transform mid air to a little kind of jet to a little assault tank.
You both screamed and jumped to catch him before touching earth, you slammed face first in the dirt and your stupid husband was in the same state except for the literal earthquake his impact caused while his servo is holding the little tank that was giggling, who since a long time ago learned his creators would do this everytime he fell from the sky.
"He is such a smart cookie, just like you, fleshy"
"I'm not talking to you now" the sparkling laughed louder by your angry tone.
Sabersky was a little shit like Blitzwing, alright.
#reader insert#x reader#tf mtmte#transformers x reader#angst#transformers#transformers idw#tf blitzwing#blitzwing
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Hellooo I saw your request are open my eyes literally sparkled! Anyway. can I request a Yandere Kokushibo X fem reader where the reader escaped Kokushibo after months of being caged from his grasp,( this is where the timeskip go). Two or three years later Kokushibo managed to find her again not until he noticed a child who looks human but has demon powers (Half Demon) you can continue the rest THANK YOU I LOVE YOUR WRITING 🥰
TYYY AND IM VERY SORRY FOR THE WAIT!! I hope u enjoy this. <333
Thank Muzan for the first time ever because he has sent Kokushibo on a long mission. A LONG ONE. NO JOKE.
You would fucking kiss Muzan's feet without hesitation if you see him. For once he is a saviour.
And of course no one likes to be trapped like a caged bird, like bro, you are tired of eating raw fucking carrots everyday because that is all that shitty Kokushibo can manage. He can barely get you clean water and he says that he would bring the stars for you /j.
Of course, you will take this golden opportunity. No more being scared. KOKUSHIBO ISN'T YOUR FUCKING MOM. MAN UP.
And so you started using your brain, higher than Einstein could, to break the fucking complex shitty lock-system that rat-assed hair man left.
I swear your brain hasn't brained so much in like, 7 hours 37 minutes 28 seconds.
What you didn't realize were the horrors that awaited you in the future. Not now though, you were busy eating flowers.
Skip to Kokushibo finds you escaped, rage-quits, goes through the 5 stages of grief and searches the whole milky galaxy for you but somehow doesn't search one small village. Typical Kokushibo to forget to search one village!
5 months later, your belly has popped, like really popped, like a balloon.
I don't know how to describe pregnancy forgive me.
Fast forward to you giving birth in horror to that half-demon child who literally tried to chomp your leg but whew, thank God and not that dumb fucking Kokushibo that the child, or newborn, didn't have teeth at the moment.
You raised the cutie, very dangerous, has killed multiple rats 👍. Villagers always come screaming to you like, "[NAME] THERE ARE RATS IN MY HOUSE HELP MEEEEEE" and your child darts out like Sonic and somehow murders all of them and eats them and no blood is left. You are known as the 'Rat-Killer Lady.' When it is actually your child.
Okay, I have bullshitted enough. Someone stop my hands from typing this much bullshit.
Anyways, Muzan, Your Saviour, decided he didn't want to be your saviour anymore and sent Kokushibo to that one small particular village where you resided.
And we all know what happens next.
Can we get applause for me getting here.
Thank you.
Kokushibo, being Upper Moon 1, obviously sensed the half-demon child. How could he not, when he could smell his own blood in it? And yours too.
Of course, you couldn't smell him like he could smell you. ( my goodness, what the fuck. )
So it took Kokushibo no time to sweep you off your feet once again, this time with a kid.
The end.
Cries.
Bye.
MASTERLIST
#demon slayer#kny#kimetsu no yaiba#dark#yandere#yandere demon slayer#yandere kny#yandere x reader#yandere kokushibo#yandere kokushibo x reader#demon slayer kokushibo#kny kokushibo#kokushibo x reader#kokushibo
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I just spent hours explaining myself to a stranger on the internet, and I'm kind of too bummed about last night's episodes to think about them too much anymore right now, but I just wanted to gloat that I apparently have mind-reading powers because I'm, uh, actually writing that Overboard AU I threatened in someone's tags back when ep 3 first aired, and I have a thing about a bit of string on a tray too.
So have an unsolicited WIP snippet!
So the premise is that Ed was moonlighting as a cabinet maker to stave off the boredom of piracy and took a job on Stede's Dad's ship and a recently married Stede was sent to oversee the work. Ed and Stede become friendly, and Ed takes more time with the job than he ought to have because he's enjoying Stede's company so much. So Father Bonnet decides to stiff Ed on the bill, and sends Stede to deliver the news with strict orders not to Take Any Guff From The Rabble. Stede is miserable but he does it (because he can’t v. well stand up to his father, can he?). Stede ends up getting accidentally knocked overboard when he tries to apologize, and the waves knock his head against the hull and he gets amnesia. Ed saves him, but decides to get back at the rich fucks who treated him like dirt by telling Stede he's a pirate under Ed's command and taking him back to the QAR. Things happen and now Ed is having Complicated Feelings, and at the time of the below snippet, Stede's turn on the rota to bring Ed dinner in his cabin has come up, and Stede has stubbornly spent over a week saying nothing but "Forgive me, Captain" to Ed whenever they have occasion to talk:
The next day Stede has a clean dishrag tucked behind his belt like an apron when he brings the tray through the door. Did he somehow charm Cookie into letting him help in the galley? Cookie is intensely territorial about his stocks and pots, and has been known to use his knives for more than just chopping veg when he feels someone might be encroaching. Still, if anyone could talk his way past Cookie's defenses, it would be Stede, wouldn’t it?
Stede whips the cloth from behind his belt and floats it over the papers on Ed’s desk before laying the tray on top of it. He pulls the chair back from the desk, angling it toward Ed, and holding on to the back of it. Ed sits down gingerly, and Stede helps guide the chair so he’s tucked up close. There’s another clean cloth on the tray folded up so it resembles a butterfly. Atop it there’s a bit of thin rope that’s been knotted into a little flower. Ed picks it up and traces a finger around the intricate interwoven strand. He looks up at Stede, who is standing just to his side with his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes are soft as summer skies and his smile is warm and Ed feels his face warming in response.
He looks away quickly, throwing the knotwork flower back onto the tray. “Don’t waste the line,” he said around the tightness in his throat.
Stede’s smile falls. “Forgive me, Captain,” he murmurs dejectedly.
Fuck. The tightness in Ed’s throat gets worse. Reaches down into his stomach and squeezes. He doesn’t feel hungry anymore. He forces himself to tuck in.
“Dismissed,” he says, his mouth full. Some broth spills onto his beard, and he grabs the cloth on the tray to wipe it away. When he puts it back down, the butterfly’s wings are crumpled and asymmetrically stained.
Stede stares at it for a moment. His mouth moves, and Ed wonders if he’s finally going to say something. He doesn’t. Instead, he moves silently toward the door, his shoulders stooped. Ed’s stomach clenches harder.
When he’s alone, he picks up the flower again, tracing out the star at the center formed by the overlapping weave with his thumb. He thinks about the way Stede’s eyes sparkle.
He pushes away from the desk. Enough grub. Time for sleep. He looks at the flower in his hand again, then quickly tucks it away into the interior pocket of his jacket.
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What are your thoughts about the fight of Ironwood vs everyone in vol. 8? I was so annoyed by it. I felt like they nerfed Ironwood so hard. Oh, and the writers decided to NOW use Marrow's semblance to stop characters before they can start fighting (the Ace Ops). Would have been nice to have consistent writing and have Marrow use that in the fight against RWBY. (Loved your review of JLxRWBY, btw. You put exactly how I felt into words.)
Well the reason you feel like Ironwood was nerfed was, in fact, because he WAS. I pulled this fact from the rwby wikia because I don’t have it in me to actually hunt down the quote, but, according to the Director’s commentary on episode 12, ‘the reason that Ironwood lost was because the writers felt that Team ORNJ deserved a win after losing to Neopolitan in Volume 7.’
So don’t worry, you’re not crazy. Ironwood absolutely got nerfed so MKEK could make sure JNR didn’t look like the jobbers we know they are. That’s plot armour, deus ex machina, and hand of the author at work, straight from the horse’s mouth. No one is allowed call MKEK good writers ever again, do the words 'kill your darlings' mean nothing anymore?
Anyway, this fight. It’s crap. Honestly a lot of the fights in vol8 are just really bad, that volume was just a disgrace in every way. Personal gripe: the song that plays over it, ‘Be Strong and Hit Stuff’, is probably my least favourite song on the entire vol8 album and considering all of them on the whole suck except for the one that was not written for the show, that’s a low bar. Most of why I hate this song is because Nora is without a doubt my absolute least favourite character in the whole show, but it’s also just. I’ll do song rankings one day.
It's just the same style of formulaic combat that rwby does in every fight of the entire volume. It’s just JNROW mashing their attack buttons until they get a decent combo. And the qrow and robyn and marrow vs the other ace ops scene? Don’t even talk to me about that, so Marrow suddenly has the guts to stop fighters in their tracks when it’s his old team? Vol8 really took every character I vaguely liked and put a gun to their likability (except you Watts you kept slaying, I named this blog for YOU).
I mean, real quick combat breakdown: Emerald rips off Mercury’s kick and then does nothing for the rest of the fight. Jaune and Oscar trade off ‘whack ironwood with my bladed weapon/cane’ before Ren does his stupid rope trick and decides he wants to try whack at Ironwood. Ironwood is doing great here honestly, he’s just in full boxer mode, his guard’s consistently up, he recovers quickly and adapts, he lands some good blows. Jaune and Ren also quietly drop out of the fight here, because Nora is getting powered up by Winter, somehow, even though she’s never been shown to use dust ever she suddenly uses it all the time even though her weapon lacks the same sort of dust casing as Weiss so where’s this come from you’d think she’d have used it against Cinder when she was literally getting killed but WHATEVER-
Anyway Nora gets the first major relevant hit on Ironwood because literally of course she does, we cut off to Marrow being a turncoat, and then cut back to Winter and Oscar riding a Manticore while Nora joins Jaune and Ren and Emerald in ‘not existing in this fight sequence anymore’ land, and apparently they just decided after getting one hit in they’d pause to get on an animal instead of continuing attacking, this fight makes no sense.
Anyway, Ironwood destroys the Manticore barehanded, king shit, Winter hits him with the ice dust she suddenly uses, Oscar poke attacks, and right when ironwood’s about to knock this kid out of the stratosphere, Winter uses some sort of flashy finishing move that is literally ripped from Kill La Kill I see those studio trigger sparkles. Again, also makes no fucking sense either, what even is this, and don’t tell me ‘rule of cool’ because it wasn’t cool, it was lame. And also, so much for ‘give JNRO a win’, they can’t even stick to their own favouritism because Winter does all the actual fuckin work here.
Overall scores
Story Context: 4/10
Fight Choreography: 1/10
Authorial Bullshit Intervention (Plot Armour, this time admitted to): 10/10
Emotional Investment: 4/10 (but only because I wanted Ironwood to at least megaton punch Jaune or Nora into outer space)
Deserved Outcome: 1/10
Also, thank you!! I ended up having a lot of fun writing out my JLxRWBY review, even if a lot of it was tempered by Seething Rage. Being a miserly grump sometimes is good for the soul, after all.
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For soft night I’m thinking poly!piarles at home spa treatment. Maybe it’s after bunny finally comes home after having to go to the FIA awards alone and he’s so exhausted and mopey that he just flops onto you and Pierre immediately. He sheds a few tears because it’s so frustrating to have to keep his two favorite people a secret but he can’t fully cry because he’s just so drained. But you and pierre expected this so both of you thought a nice at home spa night for bunny might help him feel a little more loved on and reel him back into a comfy mind set. So you carefully and put away his suit while pierre guides him to the fancy tub you guys prepared for a nice warm bubble bath. Pierre strips down with him so they can cuddle in the tub and whispers sweet nothings in his ears. You finally join them having also stripped down and have bunny lean his head back onto pierre’s chest, the cross necklace cool against his heated skin. From there bunny starts getting a facial with a gentle foamy face wash that gets wiped off with a warm rag. Then a face scrub and a mask and bunny’s got this adorable sleepy smile. Pierre’s holding his hands and kissing his neck and now mommy’s gently washing his hair. He’d be falling asleep if Pierre hadn’t started teasing his inner thighs. Bunny whimpers and you ask him if he’d like to have pierre jerk him off while you tend to his hair. His only response is a moan if appreciation. He gets slow and lazy strokes to keep him as relaxed as possible. It’s only when everyone’s all washed up and dried and placed on the bed that he gets the chance to cum. Pierre takes him into his mouth slowly and you grab some body oil to start giving him a massage wherever you can reach without disturbing your boys. So from his shoulders to his arms to his chest he can feel mommy all over him. Playing with his nipples and kissing him. His mind is so torn between dreamland and the waking world which are both bringing him so much pleasure. Pierre finally speeds up enough to a pace that makes him cum and he’s out like a light. No more bunny. Bunny has powered off. When he wakes up the next morning he’s still loopy and smiley but he can’t help but shed a few tears over how happy he is with his Pierre and mommy. He feels so loved in that without even using words, you and pierre conveyed so much love and affection. He found two people who could meet his every need and take care of him without even having to ask. They just know and do. His one brain cell is swollen with adoration, and with that one brain cell he makes a promise to be able to take care of his Pierre and Mommy the same way whenever he can. But for now, he’ll bask in the cozy space you both made for him.
-🧬
Aw I love this so much?!! It’s so cute and exactly what bunny deserves.
Firstly, Charles would be utterly exhausted. He needed his mommy and his Pierre at the prize giving so badly. Not just because he wanted to show you both off, but because he genuinely struggles too much on his own. He hated every instant of that prize giving and he really just needed his mommy and his Pierre to hold his hand, to make sure he had support.
But he had no one. Absolutely no one.
You and Pierre are waiting for him in the hotel room after the prize giving, because you guys wanted to be as close as possible for when it finished. And fuck when Charles walks through that door and he looks so… empty…. You just know that it’s gone too far.
Your little bunny has lost his sparkle, and you and Pierre can’t do it anymore. You’ll have to tell the public soon.
But first you have to take care of your bunny.
Pierre makes sure that the bath is ready for bunny while you just hold him, kissing his cheek and running your hands over his back. You worry so much that he’s not even crying, that he’s too tired for that, because your little bunny always cries at everything. Now he’s just empty.
But then Pierre comes back and says the bath is ready. You and Pierre undress Charles slowly, kissing every inch of his body as it gets revealed and then Pierre joins him in the bath.
At first bunny is confused, whining and pouting because he doesn’t understand why his mommy isn’t also in the bath with them? The bath is big enough, so where is she??
But Pierre holds him tight and kisses his cheek, promising him that mommy will be back soon, that mommy is just getting some other things ready. Charles relaxes then, trusting Pierre.
You do return soon, with all the things you need to give your bunny a nice facial. Of course you must first give bunny a forehead kiss before you even get into the bath, because bunny needs his forehead kiss.
You climb into the bath then, sitting facing Pierre and Charles so that you can give Charles a face mask. Charles is just so happy!!
Yes he’s so tired and overstimulated, but he’s sitting against his Pierre’s chest and he’s being loved on by mommy and the water is warm and smells like lavender. It makes him feel like everything is going to be okay.
Then of course you must wash his hair, because you want to love on your bunny as much as possible. It’s while you wash bunny’s hair that Pierre’s hands start to wonder, because how can Pierre be expected to have a naked bunny on his lap and not touch???
No that’s impossible. He must start stroking bunny’s thigh and getting higher and higher. You wait until charles starts whimpering to ask if Charles wants to be jerked off in the bath.
“You’d like that?” You ask him softly, “want Pierre to make you feel good while I wash your hair? Be a good bunny yeah?”
Charles moans and nods, because that’s perfect.
Pierre has such a good time stroking Charles’s hard cock in the bath, listening to all the little cries and whines he lets out as he gets loved by his mommy and his Pierre. Pierre keeps it slow and steady, making sure that Charles gets a constant supply of slow, sweet pleasure.
Charles pouts when Pierre stops, because he was just starting to get close!! But then you smile and say you’re going to bring him back to the bed room and make him cum there.
At first he whines again, tears coming into his eyes because he’s already desperate and sensitive, why must you make him wait??
“Pierre wants to taste you,” you tell him, “be good for us bunny, yeah? Pierre wants to taste your cum, and he can’t do that in the bath.”
Charles nods then, no longer complaining because if his Pierre wants something then his Pierre will absolutely get it.
And Pierre does.
The moment charles is back in the bedroom, he’s being pushed onto the bed and Pierre’s mouth is on him immediately. It’s partly because Pierre wants bunny to feel good and partially because Pierre feels guilty for not being able to support Charles at the prize giving.
And then you start massaging his neck and shoulders, helping him remove tension there and Charles is just gone. This is fucking perfect. Charles is so happy. This is exactly where he’s wanted to be. He feels so safe and loved and looked after.
It’s no surprise that he falls asleep the moment his orgasm happens. He’s just so tired and his orgasm is the last straw.
But he’s not worried at all when he feels sleep begin to creep up on him, because he knows his mommy and his Pierre will look after him, will clean him up and cuddle him and he’ll wake up in his mommy or his Pierre’s arms.
And he’s right of course.
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SP being a bastard and not recognizing EO as his sister anymore because of a mistake he refuses to acknowledge is such a bitch move (I need to see Op giving him a beating; also, creator's reactions/opinions on the subject)
I'd imagine that Op and Elita would grow to be so much closer, and that both creators are starting to regret all that xenophobia/organicphobia propaganda
Also, at which point everyone is willing to go to cure her?, I mean, in canon she was isolated from everyone and therefor willing to do pretty much anything to cure herself, but now? She has the support of her only brother, and maybe her creators
We need to know about that Perceptor incident...
He’s just a lil bitch who’s afraid of spooders. Of course OP would argue with him about this and it would get very heated (almost becoming physical) and tension would still exist among them. When the creators hear about Sentinels behaviour that was when the fact she was organic went straight out the window and all they saw was their daughter. Sentinel would also argue with his creators except more tense now and eventually he became so much of a bitch Ultra almost expelled HIM from autobot academy and Alpha gave him a good slap on the face. So in the end Sentinel had to try and look out for Elita while also trying to avoid her as much as possible, which Optimus can clearly see him doing.
This was supposed to bring all the siblings together and I’m sure after a long time Sentinel would have to accept Elita for who she is and she’ll forever be his sister. When they were younger Alpha used to read all 3 sparklings stories on how brave autobot warriors slayed evil organics from other planets and their disgusting nature, what’s worse is that HE wrote all their bedtime stories so HE engrained it in their minds. He regrets it so bad and (hesitantly) erased all the books from the archives. Ultra is now contemplating his current planned route of enslaving certain organics and eventually calls the plan off (Cus of his daughter lol). The council then decides to etch away from the “organic bad” propaganda for awhile.
Her creators are fucking powerful they can ask the science division to find a cure (with her consent of course) to which Elita immediately agrees to. The science division can be very cold to her especially in her new state except for maybe Wheeljack Cus he’s awesome like that, but her brother(s eventually) and creators will always be by her side no matter what.
Ok time for the Perceptor thing. Once Perceptor and Wheeljack found a cure they called Elita in to enact it, Optimus was there to keep an eye and as emotional support for Elita. Unfortunately the procedure was incredibly painful and Elita was screaming and scratching her restraints in pain begging them to stop. Optimus and Wheeljack demanded Perceptor to stop it immediately however he could not feel pity for the girls screams. Only to get the job done. So Optimus and Wheeljack had to manually turn the contraption off and once it shut down Elita immediately went out of conscious. She woke up in a medical berth with her brother and creators by her side. She was glad the pain was gone but was disappointed once she looked down at her still organic hands. Ultra and Alpha were reprimanding Percy for his actions and Wheeljack felt abit to blame as well. But Percy just continues to stare, emotionless. Once they were walking alone Wheeljack asks Perceptor if this would’ve happened if he had his emotions. To which Perceptor once again replies logically. Creators had to go settle more things with the science division while Optimus stayed with Elita for comfort. Sentinel eventually came and bought one of their “dumb old story books” that Trion used to read to them. So they spent the night reading it together like old times.
Ultra and Alpha storm back to the medical room after scolding the whole science division. They wanted to be their for their daughter and make sure she’s alright. However upon seeing Sentinel, Optimus and Elita all asleep together like little sparklings again, they think she’s gonna be fine
#sparkling siblings au#still thinking of a name#this sucks don’t judge pls I’m dumb#srry for the essay yall#I’ve always been interested in Percy’s no emotion shtick and surprised it hasn’t been explored more#if anyone is talented you can gladly steal this idea from me for a fanfic or smtn
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THE GANG'S ALL HERE {WARNING: PICREW 😦}
Julius Demain Pidieu but what his voice sounds like to me. Sadly, he looks five months old because the picrew I am obsessed with had no wrinkles🥺. He no longer looks like a sweet sphinx cat😭
APRICOT UN'AUTRE PIDIEU IN THE HOUSE. SHE HAS NO CONTENT DESPITE BEING JULES'S CANONICAL DAUGHT- oh. Jules has no content. Like father like daughter 😞.
THIS AUSTRALIAN IS HAVING GAY SEX WITH JULES. {Argent Étolie Chevalier is an OC} {He has like fifteen piercings but I forgor 🤡}
Mommy? sorry. Mommy? sorry. Mommy? sorry. Mo- {Dolores Toujours Pideu, Apricot's cool lesbian albino trans aunt that is going to kill me with her beauty}
Callahan Cyra Jumanah is Dolores's sweetheart, and I AM ALSO GOING CRAZY OVER HER. POWER COUPLE ULTIMATE EDITION. { Some people think she's faking her condition -chronic pain in her left leg and fatigue- because she can walk [with a cane]} {She has to hold Dolly back}
LET'S GIVE IT UP FOR MASC GENDERFLUID PEOPLE WOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOO {Coquille Bleue Pidieu is the eldest sibling of the three and can sense colors, shapes, and shadows despite being legally blind.}
WE ARE OUTGUNNED, OUTMANNED. OUTNUMBERED, OUTPLANNED- {Captain Héraklès Alcides Puissant-Redevance of the RCM is an old family friend}
WHERE THE HOOD WHERE THE HOOD WHERE THE HOOD AT-{Amoureux Perdue Du'Passe, Jules's former work partner and spouse. Sadly, he was killed on the force a few weeks after Apricot died of brain cancer. It was not a good year for Mr Pidieu.}
W. what if. Jeannie-Marie but when she was young. She was able to work around the giant black ink stain on her yellow dress by finding a thick but comfy sweater. She's one of those people who cannot fucking feel heat so she's alright. {PRETTY WONMAN😳🤤 WITH COCK?????? AMAZING 💯💫⭐🔥🌟✨⚡🎉🎊❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤🤍♥️💘💝💖💗💓💞💕💌💟❣️❤️🩹❤️🔥💋🫂🫀👁️👅👁️👀👍👏👌🤌🤙🤝🤜🤛🙏}
Look, Young Renė was a little cinnamon roll. He could make the most "Fuck dem kids" person into preschool teacher worthy in less than an hour. But y'know, kindness sometimes drowns in hate and PTSD. Although, current Renė MIGHT not make you want to throw a fucking grenade at him if you're at the "Okay, you can put your hand on my wrist BUT THAT'S IT." stage. Zero people are currently at that stage because J-M isn't part of the lore anymore. Also, yeah Renė's trans. trans people can be inconsiderate assholes, we're not sparkles and rainbows. I mean, Look at me. I might not be inconsiderate but I CAN be an ass-of-the-hole.
Lieutenant Leo hey uh what's that say? K. WHAT. KITSURAGI??? OH MY FUCKING GOD. W H A T? {<-My brain in the process of making this guy up.} {LOOK IT'S KIM'S HALF [?] SEOLITE DAD!} {Btw despite the resting bitch face he's a nerdy sweetheart that loves cars. y'know like his son. I'm going to cry.}
Cecelia Davenport/Kitsuragi, Kim's fuckin' MILF of a mom. She and Leo LOVED to match. I'm welling up again. Btw she wasn't fully finished because it was three fucking AM when I made her so. 😔.
I feel like Gaston was a little fuckboy in his teens. I mean, he was still polite though and that lead to conversations like: "So uh [Lip bite} What're you doin' later? OH, FUCK you're grandma's recovering from cancer???? That's amazing! I hope she gets better soon! I can buy some flowers for her if it would cheer her up a bit! Have a good day!" Then Renė comes up and is like "Dude. You fucking sweetheart. Stop acting like a charity and get some goddamn pussy."
DORA THE DIVORCE EMPLOYER- {Not to be omni but oh my god. oh fuck. golly gee. I wolf whistle while my eyes pop comically out of their sockets and I spontaneously combust then pour a giant bucket of water over myself and steam rises from my ears like a train} {She's not actually in this AU but I love her and felt like making her}
Elizabeth is the type of girl to try and look professional but still go all out. She finally got out of the gardener's clothes and is slaying hard. Now, speaking of har-
Made Marie without her hijab because I'm a feral fucking animal and I legit couldn't imagine her hair correctly without reference and ALSO
REMADE YOUNG RENÉ BECAUSE I HATE THE FIRST ONE. Also I hate that you can't color the facial hair because it looks like his hair is dyed when he's just like that.
LOOK, IT'S LILLIANOVICH! What the FUCK would this bitch wear when he was a kid? Just made some shit up bro. Also, I like to think he uses reading glasses even though he has pretty good eyes overall.
THERE WE GO
LINK: X
#oh no they're hot#rubin report#disco elysium#send help#sillyposting#jules pidieu#picrew#picreations#dora ingerlund#elizabeth beaufort
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