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y-rhywbeth2 · 2 days

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Clothes and Fashion

Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index [tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. There's a lot of lore; I don't know everything. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest, etc etc etc]

Clothes in general; underwear; not wasting trousers on children who'll only outgrow them within the week; pockets! Sparkly hats; the word for hair care products; etc.

Demihuman cultures might vary slightly from this, but will generally follow the gist of it and they're all noted to be far less fashion conscious than humans. Dwarves, gnomes and orcs as a norm like to dress practically is durable clothes. Halflings, goblins and kobolds will blend in quietly until special occasions, where they'll dress as brightly and colourfully as possibly. Elves have their own various culture-specific fashion trends, but mostly tend to wear whatever the hell they personally feel like wearing, be that human fashion, diaphanous gowns, or just living plants trained to be worn as garments with some jewellery.

Underwear:

Dethmas: '...a tight cloth breast-binding or sling (the equivalent of a modern sports bra, although instead of stretchy fabric covering a lot of skin, the Realms version is more like a trough or shelf of tightly-stretched cloth sewn to cords (precisely because elastic fabric is largely unknown in the Realms). The concept of wire for breast support and shaping is unknown in the Realms, but corsets (laced-up, tight boiled hide, not whalebone or any sort of stiffeners) and stomachers that cinch the waist tight are popular, and many of them have shaped panels for the hips and a top ‘shelf’ to thrust out and support the breasts.

Clouts: '...a very tight leather, cloth, or cord (listed here in descending order of perceived quality and durability) belt worn around the hips, and usually held tight by multiple hooks (like a modern bra) at the front. Then a long, diaper-like strip of rectangular cloth (usually cotton) is passed between the legs, up through the front of the belt to dangle down, and up through the back of the belt to dangle down. [...] In many cases, the dangling front and back ends are designed to be tied together, and the cloth may be folded in on itself for absorbency [menstruation] and padding [horse riding].' Clouts come in fancy lingerie styles and are easily available in cities. Those who menstruate place extra layers of thick red cloth in and change as necessary.

Codpieces are also normally worn.

Black - and especially red - are considered the 'sexy' colours, especially when applied to undergarments. I'm going to make a different post about dating and so on in Faerûn though, so I'll talk about dressing sexy there instead.

Children:

Nobody wastes money getting complicated clothes for growing children who are going to outgrow their garments in a matter of weeks or months. All children wear smocks, usually hand-me-downs, ‘with leggings or pull-on hose (long stockings tied to an underbelt to keep them from “riding down”) with boots, clogs, slippers for indoor wear, or bare feet.’

Nevertheless, customisation is common enough in children’s clothes. Things such as belts, scarves, deliberately arranging a too-big smock to bare one shoulder in a way that I do remember doing myself as a child, curiously.

General:

The majority of people in the Realms can afford a sizable wardrobe. Daily wear tends to be practical, but almost everyone has some kind of fine clothing they’ll bring out on special occasions. Noble and the wealthy women are often seen in fancy gowns, but will likely be wearing practical garb underneath and be prepared to pin up their hems if need be. Nobles also really like their cloaks

All cities and markets will have tailors and seamstresses for altering garments as necessary, whether as repairs and maintenance or for aesthetics like dyes and adornments. Almost all clothiers found in cities are prepared to do on-the-spot alterations. Enameled metals, coloured cut-glass and painted wire are popular amongst the working glass who want to look flashy but can’t afford genuine fancy stuff. Many outfits may be modified, so that armour such as breastplates and gorgets are disguised within fabric and bodices, or jerkins reinforced with armour plating.

Breeches and tunics, the former usually made of leather, are the most common garment on all genders in most of the continent. Skirts are rarely seen, though gowns are common enough. Bare arms, a low neckline that exposes a ‘little bosom’, and a hemline at the mid-calf or lower is considered dressing conservatively. 'Low-cut peasant blouses and even lace trimmings are widely used.'

The commons style of jerkin on Faerun is a heavy, fitted garment that goes down to the knees and fastens down the front or side by a sustem of toggles and loops. Shoulder padding and a stand-up collar are common, and they usually have pockets (internal or external)

Most people will be wearing belts and baldrics (belts that go diagonally across the chest, over the shoulder) for holding clothes up and carrying items.

A tammalar is a type of baldric with many pouches attached.

Bracelars are leather braces with pouches, popular with merchants.

'...and the scrip, which in recent centuries has come to mean a large piece of leather or cloth with sewn-on ties or thongs, and sewn-on loop or sleeves for those ties to go through. It is gathered up (around goods, to form a carrysack) into a bundle, and kept that way by threading ties through the sleeves (and a user’s belt, to carry it at the hip or hanging from the rear waist).'

Typical shoes are either boots or open-toed sandals.

Hat fashions come and go rapidly. A ‘fancy-me’ or ‘dee’ is a hat that’s been augmented with several feathers, gauze, gemstones and various sparkly things, usually worn by those concerned with fashion.

Outdoors wear:

Weathercloaks are ankle-length cloaks made from a light material held together by a brooch. They’re noted to not be much use at keeping the cold out, but are better than nothing. Those with more coin can afford leather longcoats that keep the rain off and greatcloaks for the cold.

Piercings:

Ear piercings and naval piercings are common, but other piercings are much more rarely seen outside of some priests who have ritual piercings for religious reasons. In the Western Heartlands (including the Gate) piercing your nostrils is also normal.

Hair:

Thurdrixes are hair products that work as dyes or to encourage hair growth (up to several inches a day). These treatments are also expensive, and may not be widely trusted due to being arcane magic. These products usually have long, fanciful sounding names.

Barbers and trained hairdressers aren't much of a thing, though they do exist. Usually you ask a family member to cut it for you, so there's not much call for professionals in the market

Plucking and shaving body hair is a fashion in the Southern hemisphere, but not really present in the rest of Faerûn (so not common in Baldur's Gate).

The fashion for men in the Heartlands is to have facial hair, though no particular style is more popular than others. Illuskans favour long beards, provided that they're not too impractical. Calishite fashion involves oils and perfumes to keep lice out, and a popular fashion in the South is for bare chins and long moustaches and sideburns which may well be seen further north due to trade and migration.

#lore stuff #Elminster's Forgotten Realms is just like browsing ye olde Candlekeep archives but with less talk of sex

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cessmaga · 1 year

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pride month has started so first halbarry chibi art :)) ❤️💚

#I hc them both attracted leaning on masc side #pride month #if the canon don't want it canon fine I'll do it myself #halbarry #hal jordan #barry allen #flash greenade #lgbt+#pride month 2023 #lgbt headcanons #omnisexual #bisexual #mlm #thanks to halbarry I'm obsessed with red and green combo #maybe someday I could draw them fuc-- *GUN SHOT*

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dark-space-between-the-stars · 2 years

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I feel like there's not enough Perjasico content anywhere so I'm thinking of making some myself

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seventh-district · 4 months

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wow!!! nothing better than watching your AO3 subscribers stat go down every time you post a new chapter of your current fic!!!

#/sarcastic btw. i am. Not happy about this recent development #Seven.txt #writing stuff #ao3 #like. don't get me wrong i do understand why and i can't fault anyone and i'm not like.. Mad. but it does hurt a lil #but alas. tis the nature of creating and posting things. not everything's gonna be received well and that's fine #it does suck to see a fic i put so much time and effort and love and part of myself into flopping so hard #not because i wrote it for anyone's sake other than my own #but i'd be lying if i said i didn't want people to enjoy the things i create. that's like. a normal and common desire #and i think i maybe killed it before it could get going with how i tagged it and the bigass disclaimer at the beginning #i think those turn a lot of ppl off that might otherwise read and maybe even find that they enjoy it??#but i would rather over-warn ppl for the triggering and non-canon aspects than under-warn them and potentially trigger or upset someone #and i can't blame ppl that subscribed for some Other thing when they open their email and see a notif that i posted smthn #and it's a mile of upsetting/negative sounding tags for a fic abt a guy they either don't know or don't wanna see mischaracterized #and so of course they unsub and that's okay. it's okay.#anyways. enough bitching abt my fic not doing well. i don't have much room to complain!#most of my stuff is fairly well received imo. so i can stand to have a flop fic every once in a while. gotta balance things out lmao #the good thing is it's already fully written so the lack of engagement can't stop me!! there's no motivation to kill! it's done already!#anyways. i'll post a chapter a day as planned and then it'll be out of my system in a week and i can post other stuff again finally #next up will be an [N]MbD oneshot. then i'll finally post the Dew Ghost Band OCD fic. then another [N]MbD oneshot ehehe #and thennn ES Ch.5! fucking finally. i can't wait to continue that story #the Dew fic is a oneshot too btw. once AEIWNF is fully posted then the only multi-chapter project i'll have is ES. and that's Enough

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lyxchen · 2 years

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You know..

Sometimes you just randomly hyperfixate on a Netflix show that has been canceled two years ago an you can do Nothing against it <3

#it's the society #did i just want to watch it because the plot sounded cool and because i needed something new to watch while drawing?#yes #did i think it was fine that it was already canceled because i probably wouldn't have been that into it anyways?#did i then realize at like episode 3 that it probably had a very cute very soft gay ship in it?#Yes #did i then see that ship become canon and just be the cutest and most amazing ship (after willex) ever??#YEs #did that ship then have a sad goodbye scene at the end of season one with a confilct that didn't get completely resolved and so not that #there is no second season i am at the point again where i could punch netflix for not giving these amazing shows with wonderful #ships satisfying endings?#YES #i am SO MAD #thanks hermione /ref #but also i'm probably gonna draw a bit of fanart for a show that has not been talked about in Months now #so if anyone knows the society or is still a fan of it #you're welcome?#anyways don't worry i am still drawing lots of jatp fanart♡#they have to be happy after all and if nEtFLix can't give that to me then i'll just have to do it myself #lea's random thoughts

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sanguineterrain · 5 months

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restroom attendant | jason todd

Summary: Tonight is the worst night ever--you just got dumped on your birthday, and all you want to do is cry in the restaurant bathroom in peace. That is, until, the Red Hood bursts in. This city just won't cut you a break.

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings/tags: humor, mild angst, reader's ex-bf cheats and dumps her, jason is such a silly goose, flirting, meet ugly, canon-typical violence, awkward jason, comic relief dick grayson.

A/N: this is probably the silliest fic i've ever written LOL! i hope you guys enjoy it. please support your local jason todd enthusiast and reblog :)

the divider

Tonight sucks.

With a shaky hand, you attempt to soothe your swollen eyes. You’ve probably been in here for about twenty minutes. Your Uber has definitely left, as has your now ex-boyfriend of three years.

Yoga instructor. It’s always the yoga instructor. They’re always fucking the yoga instructor.

You swallow a mouthful of tears and phlegm and try not to let the wet sink touch your dress. All you’d wanted was a little class on your birthday, maybe have some wine and play footsie under the table with your boyfriend. But no. That would’ve been too easy for you.

You’re starting to think this city is cursed.

The door slams open. The force of it shakes the bathroom, rattles the mirrors. You spin around.

A man slides across the floor and smacks his head on the opposite wall. Red Hood appears in the doorway, the eyes of his helmet glowing eerily.

Yep. Definitely cursed.

"Let's try this again," Hood says pleasantly, reloading his gun with a fresh magazine. "And in the interest of making myself transparent: when I ask you a question, Jerry, I expect a truthful answer."

He stalks over to Jerry and heaves him up by the lapels of his suit jacket. Hood's biceps bulge as he holds Jerry against the wall. You squish yourself against the sink. Water soaks the back of your dress.

"You're crazy, I didn't do anything!" Jerry shouts, feet barely scraping the floor.

"Volume, Jerry. People are trying to enjoy their meals.”

“Let go of me, Hood! I wasn’t anywhere near the Iceberg Lounge!”

“Yeah, see, words are coming outta your mouth, but they don't match the fact that I have three people who put you at the scene. How can we remedy this inconsistency? Any ideas?"

Jerry squirms, but he's no match for Hood's strength. Your heart pounds in your chest.

"Don't give me to the cops!" Jerry begs.

"Cops are the least of your worries right now," Hood snarls. "You're damn lucky Nightwing wants to talk to you, Jerry, or your head would hurt a lot more."

Slowly, you reach for your purse, trying to pull out your phone. Instead, you knock it to the floor. Tears gather in your eyes because this night just can’t cut you a break.

“Motherfucker,” you whisper.

Hood turns, those frightening white eyes now on you. Jerry also looks at you, legs still dangling.

“Hey,” Hood says without a sign of struggle. “Shit. Y'alright? Did I swipe ya?”

“No,” you say, voice shaky.

His posture softens. “Okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. Don’t be afraid.”

“I believe you. But, um… you're in the women's bathroom.”

Red Hood gives the room a onceover.

“Huh. So we are. Dunno how that happened.” He shakes Jerry by the collar. “Why’d you run into the women’s bathroom, asshole?”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Don't kill me!” Jerry wails.

“Shut it, Jesus. I'm not gonna kill you. Not yet, anyway.”

“It's fine, I was just leaving,” you say, bending down to get your purse.

“Hey, no, don't let me push you out,” Hood says. “Sorry. I'll be gone in a couple minutes.”

Hood adjusts his grip so Jerry's face is against the wall, arms and legs restrained. Then he zipties Jerry and sits him down hard on the floor. Hood presses a button on his helmet.

“Yo, N, I'm at Prescott's. Yeah, with Jerry. No, I didn't tell him to run in here, he did that all on his own! Well, I chased him for ten blocks, so I’d prefer if you’d keep your bitching to yourself. Thank you… Okay, we're in the women's bathroom, so—well, I didn't do it on purpose! No, I’m—will you just come here? There’s a side window.” Hood presses the button again with a grunt. “Dickhead.”

“Are you gonna erase my memory?” you ask.

Hood jerks, turning back to you.

“What? Hell no, I'm not gonna erase your memory. I don't do that shit, I promise.”

You slump against the sink. “That's too bad. I would prefer it.”

He looks up from Jerry’s last ziptie and pulls it extra tight. Jerry whimpers.

“How come?” Hood asks.

You shake your head. “It's nothing.”

“Hm. Doesn't look like nothing. If you're in danger—”

“I'm not in danger. I…”

You glance at Hood. You can't see his face, but his body language seems genuine. From what you've heard, Hood isn't known for mincing words or doing things he doesn't want to. And he’s good to Gothamites. Well, the law-abiding ones, anyway. He’s even been endorsed by Batman.

What's the harm in telling him about your disastrous night? Not like you'll see him again. Or Jerry.

“I got dumped,” you say.

“Ah.” Hood nods. “Been there.”

Somehow, the idea of Red Hood getting dumped is weirder than him beating up a guy in the women’s bathroom of Prescott’s.

You sniffle, and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Yeah, um. It was our three year anniversary today. He took me here, told me he was in love with his yoga instructor, and then left.”

You tear up thinking about it. Hood makes a quiet noise.

“Shit. Well, I haven't been there,” he says. “But I know infidelity. I'm sorry. Dudes are trash.”

“And it's my birthday today,” you blurt, sniffling.

“Happy birthday,” Jerry says, clutching his stomach.

“What a fucking asshole!” Hood snarls, and lets go of Jerry, who crumples like a sack of potatoes. He’s out cold in a second, frozen on the floor.

Your brows rise. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. It’s his first time in Gotham.” Hood shrugs. “Anyway, where was I? Right, your asshole ex. Like it's not enough to publicly dump you, and then he goes and does it on your birthday? Who is this guy? I'll go talk to him right now.”

You laugh a loud, snorting laugh. It bounces off the tiles.

Hood tilts his head. “What’d I say?”

You catch your breath and wave your hand.

“No, nothing, I’m sorry. I’ve just had a crappy night and that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever offered to me.”

“I mean it,” Hood says. “I’ll scare him if you want.”

“As tempting as that is, I don’t want to be an accessory to a crime.”

You also don’t want to put your ex in the ICU, no matter how much he might deserve it. Best to let the universe do its thing.

“You’d be acquitted, don’t worry.” Hood leans against the stall. “I’d never letcha go to jail.”

You smile, your ears growing warm. “You don’t even know me. What if I deserve it?”

“Nah. I got a good sense about people. I can tell you’re sweet. Probably don’t even run through red lights.”

“I try not to,” you say, heat spreading to your face.

“Yeah, a good girl. I figured as much.”

Your eyes widen. Hood coughs and rubs his neck. Even his coughs sound intimidating through the helmet, but that’s negated by his scrunched-up posture.

“Fuck. Sorry. That wasn’t a come-on,” he says. “I mean, it sounded like one, but I’m realizing what a creep I am, flirting with you in a bathroom with a zip-tied criminal. Sorry.” He shakes his head. “I hate myself.”

You grin. “It’s okay. You made my night better, actually. Thanks.”

“That’s a testament to how terrible your night’s been if I made it better.”

You shrug. “Could always be worse. I bet Jerry had an even shittier night than me.”

“You’d win that bet. But I—”

The window swings open with a clunk. Nightwing pops his head in. He looks at Hood, then you.

“Uh,” he says. “Evening. What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is it took you almost ten minutes to get here,” Hood says, back in Vigilante Mode. “Did you get lost?”

Nightwing smiles with all his teeth. “I was actually cleaning up your mess at the Bowery, Hood. You’re welcome.”

He looks at you. “Hi. Sorry about this. I hope we didn’t ruin your night. If there’s anything we can reimburse you for…”

You shake your head. “It’s okay. My night was already sunk. Don’t worry about it. Thanks for keeping Gotham safe.”

Nightwing laughs. “The pleasure is ours.”

“Alright, enough chattering, Dickwing,” Hood says. “Take him.”

He lifts the unconscious Jerry, pushing him up to the window. He does so effortlessly, his jacket riding up to reveal his skin-tight jumpsuit.

You look away before he catches you staring. There’s definitely something wrong with you.

Nightwing takes Jerry and waves at you. Then he disappears.

“So, uh,” Hood says. “I gotta go.”

“Oh! Right, of course. Sorry to keep you.”

“Now what’re you apologizing for?” he asks, and it almost sounds like a tease. You wonder what his smile looks like. What color his eyes are.

“Well, I really didn’t mean to keep you…”

“You didn’t keep me,” Hood says, and you can hear the warmth even through his decoder. “This is probably the best arrest I’ve ever made.”

He starts to climb through the window, then stops. He digs into one of the pockets of his belt and pulls out a scrap of paper.

“This is my number,” he says. “Well, it’s kind of the vigilante hotline. But you can reach me here, in case you ever need help.”

Hood walks over to give it to you. He smells like gunpowder and oranges. He’s even larger this close, the width of his shoulders dwarfing you.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

He nods and backs up, clapping his hands.

“Right. So I’ll go… Bye.”

Hood looks at you for a moment more. Then he hops up onto the window sill and slides out, somehow graceful despite his bulk. The window closes.

Your dress has dried, which is nice. You walk out of the bathroom. It’s a miracle no one else has come in.

You get your coat and this time, when you see the empty seat across from yours, you don’t burst into tears, which is progress. You call another Uber and go to wait for it at the front. The hostess approaches you.

“Ma’am?” she says, and holds out a small, plastic container. In it is a slice of tiramisu.

“I didn’t order this,” you say.

“It was called in and paid for by a Mr. R.H. He wishes you a happy birthday.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

You’re definitely leaving a five-star review on Yelp.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #batman fanfiction #dc fanfiction #jason todd reader insert

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cc--2224 · 29 days

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I Told You So

Pairing: Tech x F!Reader

Summary: After a mission goes wrong, Tech realizes that you are more precious to him than he originally thought, and though he is upset that you didn’t listen to him, he is more upset that he nearly lost you. And he intends to finally do something about it.

Warnings: This is very much 18+ Minors do not interact! Slight canon typical violence and mentions of injuries in whatever plot this has, smut; oral - f receiving, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it!!), porn with feelings, possessive Tech, slight praise kink? language

Notes: I don’t know where this came from, it has been a minute since I’ve written anything remotely spicy let alone an actual smut fic. But please let me know what you think!

Word Count: 5.5k

Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added!

Masterlist

Edit: Thank you all for the likes and reblogs!! I hope you enjoyed it 💚

"It is unwise for any of us to go out on our own, we should be working in teams of two." Tech pointed out as you were gearing up for your mission. You were to locate and rescue a Republic senator who had been imprisoned by the Separatists and bring them back to Coruscant.

"There's an odd number, we can't go in teams of two." You pointed out. "I can handle myself, I don't want to divide your squad."

Ever since you had teamed up with Clone Force 99, you had gotten to know them well, but you still felt like an outsider. In some ways, you were, but you never really felt like one of the team. It wasn't uncommon for you to be the odd one out for teamwork, and to you, this was no different.

In truth, you had always hoped to be partnered with Tech when you were given the briefing, but his talents were more complementary with one of his brothers. Ever since you met him, you were drawn to him, his brains, his demeanor, the way he lit up when speaking about something that interested him which ended up being nearly everything. He was handsome and skilled, and he welcomed you into the squad immediately, over the following months, you began developing feelings for him.

It never hindered your performance on missions, not only because you were never paired up with him, but you were good at compartmentalizing your feelings from your work. You wanted to get closer to him, but there never seemed to be a good time, and even if there was, you just didn't know how to bridge the gap.

"You can join Crosshair and myself, it will be safe for you." He suggested.

"We'll cover more ground in three groups. I'll be fine, I doubt there are even going to be any platoons that far out."

Tech shrugged, "Suit yourself. I will send you the coordinates for our rendezvous point. Keep your comm on."

You nodded and left the Marauder with your equipment.

You had no idea that this mission would be more dangerous than many you had encountered, but Tech knew, he always did.

As you approached the outskirts of the village, you saw a clear path straight through to the compound where you suspected the senator was held. It seemed a little too good to be true, there should have been droids out here, not full platoons, but someone keeping watch.

You drew your blaster to be safe, and crept onward, keeping an eye out for anything out of place. You could hear chatter over the comms of the others checking in with each other, and then you heard Tech say your name.

“All clear. As I said.”

Tech didn’t reply and you lowered the volume on your comm, still keeping it on, but not wanting to draw attention to yourself.

You had made it about halfway through the clearing when you saw blaster fire strike about ten paces to your left. You looked up, trying to see where it came from when you saw a platoon of B1s headed your way.

“Easy work.” You mumbled to yourself, aiming your blaster forward, shooting them as they neared you.

It was easy work at first, but there didn’t seem to be an end to them. When you’d shoot one, two more would appear, and before you could even disable a squadron of them, a tank appeared over the horizon.

“Kriff.” You said.

You considered calling for backup, but your pride couldn’t handle Tech telling you that he told you so, so instead you took a grenade out of your pack and threw it toward the platoon. It didn’t seem to damage the tank, but it at least got rid of the marching battle droids.

If you had raised your comm to ask for help, you would have heard Hunter say that the target was secure, and call for everyone to return to the ship, but you were the only one who didn’t check in.

“Tech, Crosshair, you two go find her. Wrecker and I will bring the senator back to the ship.” Hunter told them.

They left their post and headed to your last known location.

“Why didn’t she just join our team?” Crosshair finally asked.

“I did suggest it, but due to her stubborn nature, she was certain she would be fine on her own.” Tech’s tone indicated his annoyance. He wanted to be as annoyed as he sounded, but more than anything he was worried.

He liked having you around, you were always willing to listen to him prattle on about whatever topic was on his mind. You were kind, you treated him and his brothers well. The idea that you could be taken from them had never crossed his mind until now. Unlike you, he had no idea of the way he felt about you. He had rarely had feelings for anyone before, he didn’t know how it was supposed to feel. All he knew was that he didn’t want to sit through a briefing without you, or ramble on about some useless topic without you intently listening, and he didn’t want your last conversation to be the last conversation. He didn’t want to be right about this one thing.

When they saw the explosion in the distance, he began to fear he was right.

The tank fired toward you, it missed its mark and you were able to avoid a direct hit, but the explosion was just a little too close. You were sent flying back from the shock wave, and you could hear buzzing in your ear before everything went black.

If you hadn't gone out on your own, someone could have been looking out for you. Tech could have been looking out for you, just as he insisted upon.

But instead, you were so certain you could handle yourself that you had gotten yourself in trouble.

You woke up in your bunk, bandaged and sore, but still alive. You didn’t know what happened, and you weren’t exactly eager to find out, but you knew you had to face everyone eventually.

Wrecker smiled at you when you walked into the cockpit, “Well look who’s finally awake!”

Crosshair didn’t say anything, instead looking at the back of Tech’s chair.

You heard a sigh, and then Tech turned his chair around, eyeing you up and down.

“Something you need to say?” He finally asked.

“What happened with the mission?”

Hunter spoke, “Got the senator. We’ll be arriving on Coruscant shortly.”

Had you really been asleep that long?

"I told you you should not have gone on your own." It seemed Tech was tired of the small talk.

You looked at him, unsure of what he wanted you to say. “I was just doing my part of the mission, nothing I did was out of line. I didn't know there would be that many droids on the outskirts." It was a losing argument, and one you'd rather not have in the cockpit of the Marauder in front of everyone, but Tech didn't seem interested in anything but the argument.

"Precisely. If you had gone with Crosshair and I, you would not have encountered those droids. And now you are injured because of your own mistake." He had raised his voice, something you’d never heard him do.

You flinched slightly at his words but he continued, “What happened to keeping your comm on? We were trying to reach you.”

“My comm was on!” You retorted, “Just turned it down so I wouldn’t be spotted.”

“Yes well, a lot of good that did you.” He responded sarcastically. “We might not be there to save you next time. Keep that in mind before you choose to do something so reckless.” He turned away from you, facing the front again.

Your eyebrows furrowed at the back of the chair, "I didn’t ask to be saved, in fact I’d rather be back there with the droids. Maybe then-"

Hunter cut into your argument. "That is enough, both of you."

He looked at you with his eyebrows knit together, "Go lay down, rest is going to help your injuries, arguing is not."

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could say anything, you turned and went to your bunk.

After you were out of earshot, Hunter spoke to Tech.

"What was that about? You can't just yell at her, she got hurt, she learned her lesson already."

"As I have mentioned, she would not have-"

"Stow it. We all know what's going on between you, even if you don't. You need to figure it out before your next outburst." Hunter turned in his chair to face the front of the ship again. Tech looked on at the dancing lights of hyperspace.

Tech didn’t speak to you for the next week. The five of you were granted time off after saving the senator and you had all decided to spend it on Coruscant, but with the tension in the ship, it didn’t seem like much of a vacation.

You knew that all you had to do was apologize, but you didn’t feel like you did anything wrong.

You knew the others were getting tired of yours and Tech’s attitudes; they all knew that it was more than just the mission. They knew about your feelings for each other, and they knew how worried Tech had been as he treated your wounds and bandaged you up.

The only thing they could do was to force a resolution.

“Okay, we’ve had enough.” Hunter said loud enough for both you and Tech to hear at opposite ends of the ship. “We’re all going out. And that includes the two of you.”

He slammed down a flyer he had found for a gondola ride through the upper levels, complete with all the sights Coruscant had to offer.

“Is that really necessary?” You asked, glancing at Tech from the corner of your eye. You couldn’t think of anything less beneficial than the five of you being cramped together in a confined space you couldn’t leave.

“It isn’t a request.” Hunter informed you.

You sighed and left the ship, followed by the others, and finally Tech, and you made your way to the park where the dock was located.

The five of you slowly arrived at the front of the queue, and when it was your turn, you were shoved into a gondola along with Tech. None of the other batchers joined you, but before you thought to exit, the vessel's door had closed and you were moving.

You sat down on the bench across from Tech, still avoiding eye contact by looking out the window, arms crossed.

Tech still kept his silence. Even a week later, he was still considering Hunter's words. Was there something between him and you? He knew he didn’t want to lose you, but that was completely normal, wasn't it? And even if it wasn’t normal, that doesn’t mean whatever he felt was reciprocated. But if you did return his feelings, he knew this might be one of the only chances he had to act on it, to tell you how he felt.

When the gondola had reached nearly the top of the track, the view overlooking the Jedi temple, he sighed and finally looked at you.

"You see, I... I felt responsible for your injuries."

"You felt responsible?" You repeated after a pause. "Wasn't it my fault that I got injured? For not following your oh-so-wise plan?"

You were acting petulant, but your emotions were still running high and the confined space didn't help.

"Well yes, if you had done as I suggested, you would have been free from injury."

"Right, because you know everything."

"Crosshair and I left with zero injuries. So yes, this I know to be fact."

"Do you really have to say 'I told you so'? I'm sorry, is that what you want to hear? I'm sorry that I got hurt because I didn't l-"

You didn't have time to react before you felt Tech's lips upon yours. One hand was on the side of your face and the other was digging into your waist.

The vessel rocked slightly at his movement, causing you to grip onto the bench. Your eyes were still wide at the sudden contact, but when he didn't back away, you closed your eyes and deepened the kiss, moving your hands to place them on his chest.

He stopped to take a breath, his lips still hovering tantalizingly close over yours, breathing you in, committing your perfumed smell to memory.

You closed the gap this time when you decided he had enough time to catch his breath.

His tongue darted out and swiped across your lip, asking for access to explore. You allowed it, moaning into his mouth when you felt his tongue against yours.

In one swift movement, he sat on the bench and pulled you into his lap, resuming the kiss once you had situated yourself.

Your hands moved up, resting on his shoulders briefly before snaking your arms around the back of his neck, holding him close. You could feel his strong hands massaging your thighs before resting on your ass, testing the waters by giving it a squeeze, you bucked your hips slightly in response.

You could feel a coiling sensation in your stomach, a heat pulsing through you, and pooling out onto your panties. You wanted him, and you could feel based on his actions and the stiff bulge in his pants that he wanted you just as badly.

He broke the kiss, and moved his head back, causing you to chase after his kiss. He put a finger to your lips and smirked.

"You must be patient, the gondola ride is near the end of its course, and I still have more to say about the mission."

You frowned in protest, feeling all that heat suddenly dissipate as he gently pushed you off of him.

"Not to worry, the Marauder is nearby, no one else will be there and we can continue our conversation there, if that is what you want."

You nodded in agreement.

"I apologize, but I will need to hear an answer before I can comply."

"Yes, I want that." You said too quickly, trying and failing to not sound too desperate.

He smirked again. "Good girl. You and I still have much to discuss."

You whined slightly at his praise, then waited for the door to open as you neared the dock.

After disembarking, Tech grabbed your hand, pushing past the people exiting their respective vessels. Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair were nearby, but you didn't see them as Tech ushered you back toward the landing port.

"I guess they finally talked about it." Wrecker had said, staring wide-eyed after you two.

"We should probably give them some privacy so they can talk more." Hunter shook his head, smirking toward the ground.

"Just as long as they don't talk in my bunk." Crosshair said as he crossed his arms.

The door to the Marauder wooshed open, and the two of you hurried on board. Tech was back on you before it could close again.

He pushed you back into the wall, pinning you there as he kissed you. Placing hot kisses on your lips, your cheek, your jaw, your neck, anywhere he could.

"Do you realize how worried I was when I saw you?" He asked between kisses. "When I heard the explosion, when I rushed over only to find your body on the ground?"

He stopped kissing you and looked into your eyes, "I thought I lost you before you were even mine to lose."

"Tech.." You tried to move a hand from his grip to place it on his face, but he tightened his hold on it. “I’m sorry.”

“I do not want your apologies.” He told you, “I want you by my side, I want you to be safe. I…” He kissed you again, this time more roughly, eliciting a moan from you again. “I want you to be mine.”

Behind his goggles, his pupils were dilated, his eyes half-lidded.

The coiling feeling returned. Your stomach was in knots. You had never seen Tech like this before, you hadn’t seen him behave so possessively, and you wanted to see more of it.

"Then make me yours." You said, only a whisper. “I want to be yours.”

His mouth found yours again, not bothering to ask you to give his tongue space to enter but instead forcing it past your lips. His knee slotted itself between your legs, close enough to tease you, but not close enough to give you friction where you desired it most. You bucked your hips trying to find it on your own, and he smiled into the kiss.

"What do you want, mesh’la?" He asked you.

You bucked again in response. He removed one hand from yours and brought it down, pushing your hips back against the wall so you couldn't move them again.

"I told you, I need to hear your words. Tell me what you want."

"I want you. I-I need you."

"Then I should not keep you waiting."

He let go of your hip, and with the hand that was still holding yours above you, he guided you over toward the console.

"Here?" You asked.

"Well, of course." He guided your hips downward so that you were seated. "I cannot help but think about how pretty you would look while I fucked you right on the console of my ship."

You let out an involuntary moan at just his words alone.

He caressed the side of your face, and with a feather-light stroke across your jaw, he tilted your chin up to meet your gaze. Despite his words just a moment ago, he placed a gentle kiss on your lips once more, and his hand slowly traveled down your neck, over your breast, down your stomach, and rested at the hem of your shirt.

He looked into your eyes, silently asking for permission. You nodded eagerly and he pulled your shirt up over your head. He tossed it onto the seat behind him and then looked at you, admiring the newly uncovered parts of you.

"Beautiful." He whispered. Out of everything done so far, this one word was enough to make you blush, you tried to turn your head away but he stopped you.

Leaning down over you, he placed a kiss on your shoulder, then your collarbone, trailing down to your breasts, still obstructed by your bra. His lips kissed the top of one, while his hand held the other over the fabric. You reached behind your back and unclasped it, giving him access to another part of you where you wanted to feel his touch.

He tutted quietly. "I could have done that myself."

You rolled your eyes jokingly and he resumed allowing his lips to explore your skin, now alternating between kissing and sucking. And where his lips weren't, his hands were. Squeezing the flesh, thumbing over your nipple while his mouth worked on the other.

Soon, he continued his exploration, and as he neared your stomach, he lowered himself down until he was kneeling between your thighs.

His gaze was hungry as it focused on your center, his lips formed a tight line, holding his mouth closed to prevent his tongue from hanging out.

His hands were on your knees, he trailed them up your thighs, stopping at the waistband of your pants, once again looking up at you to ask your permission. You situated yourself to make it easier for him to remove them, and soon they too were discarded, thrown back toward the pilot chair. His hands were back on your thighs, prodding the soft skin, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses on each of them, sucking them enough to leave marks.

You whined, both at the sensation of him marking your legs, but also at the lack of sensation where you really wanted him to be.

He smirked up at you, and then spread your legs further apart, slowly moving his face toward your aching cunt. He could see how turned on you were, and he licked his lips before speaking.

"Stars, you appear to be soaked."

"Mmhm." Was all you could manage, all your attention was on the fact that he was inches away from giving you the friction you needed.

"Cyar'ika.." He scolded. "Words. You need something of me, what is it?"

"I... I just need you, I need your mouth, your fingers, your cock, I-I need to feel you." Your desperate words turned his gaze dark.

"Good girl, telling me everything you want," his praise caused you to squirm, trying to close your thighs just to feel friction, but he held them open.

"You enjoy it when I call you that?"

"Gods, yes." You moaned.

He hummed in response, keeping that knowledge filed away.

He finally pressed his face forward, nose rubbing against your clothed pussy. You whined in response. He dragged the tip of his nose upward, knowing exactly where you wanted to be touched, and he hooked his fingers around the waistband of your panties, relishing in your whines and pleas for him to finally take them off of you, and soon he relented, letting them join the rest of your clothes before he dove in.

He ate you like a man starved, licking you through your folds, tasting as much of you as he could.

"G-ah, fuck, Tech," you cried out, your hands reaching for his hair. The feeling of your hands gripping his hair causing him to groan.

His lips wrapped around your clit, alternating between sucking it and circling his tongue around it. He could feel you squirming at his touch and he reached one hand up, resting it on your hips, hoping to help anchor your.

With his other hand, he circled your entrance, teasing you, making you beg him to touch you before he obliged.

He slid one long finger into you as far as he could, pressing against the spongy walls, exactly where you needed to feel him.

He let go of your clit and let his tongue run up and down your folds, getting another taste of your juices.

"M-mmo-" You began to say, being cut off by the feeling of his tongue making another swipe up.

"My apologies, you will have to repeat yourself." He looked up at you, his face slick with your arousal.

"More, I need more."

He raised an eyebrow and plunged another finger into you. Your head rolled back and you cried out.

"Is that what you wanted?"

"Yes!"

Your grip tightened on his hair, pulling his face back into you. His hot breath fanned against your cunt and you sighed in contentment.

"Gods, you are a needy thing." His purred, his voice vibrated against you as he attached himself to your clit again.

He sucked on you while his fingers made scissor patterns inside you, all the while you could feel the coil start to tighten.

"I'm close-" You cried out. He didn't change anything about his rhythm. He strived to get you there, he was eager to please you after he had been so harsh toward you earlier. His tongue circled your clit and he could feel you pulsing around his fingers.

You could feel the heat growing in your stomach, your moans got louder as you got closer. He slid his fingers out, and before you could complain about the loss, you felt his tongue swiping up and down before dipping inside you. His fingers resumed drawing circles on your clit as he drank from you.

Your thighs clenched together, forcing him to stay exactly where he was, you muttered out a string of curses as the coil finally snapped and you cried his name as you came undone. He kept lapping at you until you were through.

You released your hold on his hair and he stood back up.

"You taste magnificent," He smirked, licking your arousal off his fingers before his mouth found yours again. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he leaned you back onto the console. You shuddered when you felt his stiffened cock press against you. His hands began grabbing at your breasts and your arms wrapped around his neck pulling him in.

"You are perfect." He said as he began kissing every piece of you he could. He locked onto your neck, he kissed you fervently, then gently bit down, giving you a mark that would be difficult to hide from the others, not that they didn’t already have an idea of what was going on here. But that’s what Tech wanted, he wanted to show everyone that you were his.

"Tech.." You said quietly,

"Mm?"

"I want to see you." You pushed yourself back up onto your elbows and looked into his eyes.

For a moment, just for a moment, he froze, but soon enough, his hands moved to the fastener on his pants.

"Let me do that."

He smirked and helped you off the console gently.

You worked on the buttons on his shirt first, unbuttoning them slowly, placing gentle kisses on his chest as each loose button reveals it to you.

He tilted your chin up and leaned in for a kiss, pressing against you. You could feel his stiff bulge press into you again and your hands moved faster to unbutton his shirt.

You pushed it off his shoulders when it's finally unbuttoned, and you looked at his toned chest. You knew he'd be strong but it was still a surprise to you. Your fingers danced across his torso, feeling the muscles under his smooth skin, before finally landing on the fastener of his pants.

You look up at him, just as he did for you, asking for his permission. He pressed his forehead against yours in response, you smiled and kissed his lips, then moved to undo the fastening. He helped you to slide his pants off, and he stepped out of them, kicking them off to the side.

You could see the outline of his cock much clearer against his briefs and you could feel your mouth water, you clenched your thighs together, not wanting to wait to feel it inside of you. He raised an eyebrow at you.

"You desire it so badly?" He asked you, forcing your gaze away from it and back up to him.

You nod quickly, "Yes."

He smiled then rutted his hips against you, "Then please, continue."

Your hands moved to the waistband of his briefs, he moved his lips to yours again and you returned the kiss before kissing along his jaw, then his neck. You peeled the waistband down and he hissed as his briefs grazed across his cock. They had soon joined the rest of the clothes and you looked down.

You bit your bottom lip and you started to lower yourself down but he stopped you. You gave him a confused look, and he smirked.

"There will be plenty of time for that at a later time. But for now,"

He continued by guiding you back onto the console, laying your back down and he stood between your legs with his hands on your thighs.

"Are you comfortable?" He asked.

"Yes," you assured him.

You felt his cock rub against your folds, before he positioned himself at your entrance.

"Ready?" He asked.

You bucked your hips in response and he pushed himself in without another word.

You arched your back as you felt him stretch you open, if there was any pain, it quickly turned into pleasure as he buried himself in you inch by inch.

When he was fully sheathed, he gave you a moment to adjust before he started to move. He started out slow, he made sure that you were used to the feeling of his thrusts before he picked up the pace.

"Gods, you are taking me so well, cyar'ika."

You replied with a moan. You bucked your hips to meet his pace and he smirked.

"Is there something you want?"

"Mmm p-please, go fas-faster" you answered between thrusts.

"Very well," He obliged, his hands gripped onto your thighs and he buried himself again, quickening his pace at your request. He looked at you as you took his cock, the way your back arched, how your tits bounced with each thrust, the way your face contorted in pleasure.

He tightened his grip on your thighs, you took that as a hint to wrap your legs around his waist and he moaned in response, feeling himself go even deeper inside you.

"You are so perfect, such a good girl for me." Your walls clenched around his cock at his praise.

He thrusted into you harder wanting to explore the new angle he was permitted.

“Fu-uck,” you whined.

"Is this okay?" He asked, unsure of if he was hurting you.

"Gods, yes!"

He set a brutal pace, but you bucked your hips, meeting his thrusts each time.

Tech could feel himself nearing his climax, his pace started to become slightly more erratic. He slid one hand down your thigh toward your center. He circled your clit with his thumb, intending on sending you over the edge with him.

Your walls clenched around him again at the contact. You were getting close again. Your moans grew louder as you neared the edge.

"That's it," He said, he wanted to feel you come undone again. He continued circling your clit as he thrusted into you. "Be a good girl and come for me once more, come on my cock."

Your second orgasm crashed over you without as much of a warning as the first, your legs tightened around him, he slowed his thrusts down, helping you through it, and he moaned at how your walls constricted him. He knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

"Wh.. Where do you want me?" He asked.

"In-inside," you said, still overcoming the last of the waves of pleasure.

He didn't ask any further questions, he buried himself as far as he could before he stilled, his cock twitching inside you as he painted your walls with hot ropes of his seed.

He moaned out your name as he finished, feeling himself soften inside of you, he pulled himself out of you and you pushed yourself up, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing his lips, your tongue darting into his mouth.

He returned the kiss, holding you close to him, and his hands traveled across your thighs, before lifting you up from the console.

“I love you.” You told him, resting your head on his shoulder as he held you. “I think I always have, but… In case it still wasn’t obvious.”

He smiled and carried you toward the refresher, sitting you down on the counter when you arrived, giving you a chaste kiss on the lips. “Perhaps it was not obvious over the last week, but now, I would have more questions if you did not.” He smiled at you, “I love you too. But next time, if I ask you to join me on a mission instead of going off on your own, please listen to me.”

“But look where it brought us.” You replied with a smirk.

“Perhaps that is true, but for your own information, you do not need to nearly get yourself killed in order for me to fuck you. You could have just asked.”

He grabbed a towel before he quickly left to retrieve your clothes and clean off the console. Tech soon returned to you and turned the water on, helping you off the counter and guiding you to the shower where he joined you. It didn’t take long for his lips to be on you once again.

While it was your stubbornness that led you to this point in the first place, you were suddenly very eager to see what would happen on the next mission, should you and Tech finally be paired together.

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dexlexia · 6 months

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dracule - mihawk x reader

pairing: dracule mihawk x reader rating: 18+ summary: Mihawk was a warlord of the sea. He was a feared swordsman, he crossed oceans and slayed anyone who got in his way. Mihawk was a strong man, the kind of man you didn't want to face alone in a fight and to be honest even having a crew by your side wouldn't help either. Fear would be an emotion you'd feel if you were faced with him.

But you simply knew him as - ”Dracule!“ tags: fluff, smut, injured!reader, anime canon, sweet & cute, gentle sex, multiple positions

Mihawk was a warlord of the sea. He was a feared swordsman, he crossed oceans and slayed anyone who got in his way. Mihawk was a strong man, the kind of man you didn't want to face alone in a fight and to be honest even having a crew by your side wouldn't help either. Fear would be an emotion you'd feel if you were faced with him.

But you simply knew him as - ”Dracule!“

”Yes, my dear.“ He said as he came to the doorframe of the bedroom you both shared. In the centre of the bed lay your sick form. In all fairness you were for the most part fine, but the big bruise on your face said otherwise.

It looked worse than it felt, but Mihawk was worried. The greatest swordsman was shaken by the fact that the person he loved had a bruise. He came closer and sat on the edge of the bed. He reached out to the side of your face that wasn't bruised.

”It's cold.“ You pouted.

He leaned in and kissed you softly on the lips, ”I will get you another blanket then.“ He knew you were playing it up a little, but the worrying guilt in his stomach made it hard for him to dismiss your whining.

He got up and went to the chest near the far wall of the bedroom that was stuffed with extra blankets and pillows. He grabbed a nice quilt that he got in the northern islands. They could keep anyone warm.

”Here you go.“ He said as he laid out the blanket across you. But before he could turn to leave the room, you reached out and grabbed him on the arm.

”Stay?” You asked.

He exhaled, “Perona and Zoro will be wondering why dinner hasn't been made yet.“ He turned to look at you, gold eyes scanned your body that was neatly tucked under three layers of blankets.

”Well the strays can fend for themselves. I want my man.” You softly smiled at your own comment. Mihawk returned the smile before he got into bed with you. He was quick to make sure no heat escaped from under the blankets as he pulled you into his arms.

“I guess so.” He replied as he caned his neck down to kiss your on the head. He was so soft in private. So caring and warm, while most thought he was a vampire you saw the heart beneath it all. To be a warlord meant to be stoic and unemotional, but behind closed doors Mihawk was a kind lover.

He pulled away and lifted your chin to look him in the eyes, “How is your bruise?”

“Better. Doesn't ache.” You replied. You were a little emabressed by how you got such a big bruise. It looked like someone took a lead pipe to your face.

“You could've broken something. Next time you want to clean the weaponry, please get myself or one of our strays to help. I'm pretty sure Roronoa would be happy to find *something* else to do with his time rather than lift weights and drink all my liquor.“

You blushed, ”I know, Dracule.“ You snuggled up closer to him and kissed his face. You felt content and even rubbed your legs together in the sheer happiness of being close to him. Your Dracule.

”I worry.“ He said, ”I know you are not a weak woman, but I brought you here to protect you. I don't want the things in our home posing a risk too.“ He pushed hair out of your face to keep it away from the healing bruise.

”I'll always be okay, honey.“ You said as you tangled your legs with his and moved down to press your head against his clothed chest, ”Because you're here.“

”And I will be here until my last breath, my dear.” He leaned down to kiss you on the top of the head. He wrapped those arms tighter around you and held you close. You could hear his heartbeat and you pressed both hands against his chest. When you sighed constantly, he was able to do the same.

There were not many things he held dear in this world but as he held you so close to him, he felt like everything worth fighting for was nestled in his arms. Despite being injured, you were as perfect as ever. A dream in his eyes.

Eventually you moved further up the bed to look into his eyes. You reached out for him and placed a hand on his face. You rubbed your hand against his facial hair and you smiled at him.

”My Dracule.“ You said, ”The bravest swordsman, the scary warlord. But I could never be afraid of you.“ You leaned in and kissed him on the lips.

”And I will do everything in my power to never make you afraid of me. I care for you too deeply, my soul is tied with yours in this world and the next. I will fight in my dying breath to protect you.“

You felt the heat rise into your cheeks from his endearing words. He sounded like an old poet when he spoke, but the low rumble of his voice paired with the closeness to you made you feel more loved then with any other man.

You kissed again, and he held onto you tighter. So close, so intimate that it left a swirl of warmth in your gut. When you pulled away from his lips you went to his ear and asked, ”I want to be closer, Dracule.“

”Then closer we shall be.” He replied as he started to unbutton his shirt. He watched you with careful eyes as you undressed as well. He observed every mark on your skin. He breathed deeply through his nose as he continued to get undressed.

Soon you were both nude. Your hands explored his body, the expanse of muscle and the admiring every mark on his body. Even though the scars were old, you could see them faintly. You pressed another kiss against his lips and felt your heart flutter in your chest. It was a euphoric feeling, the ability to be so close to him.

He was godsent. He placed a hand on your ass and gave it a firm squeeze as you two kissed. It got warmer under the covers as the two of you felt each other up. He groaned into the kiss when you softly touched his cock.

He shuddered when you grasped onto it and gave a firm stroke. But he quickly deepened the kiss and continued to passionately make out with you. The heat in the room rose as he explored your body with his soft hands.

Despite his use of a sword he always kept his hands so soft. But they were strong and his grip could be bruising. You moaned into the kiss as he grabbed your ass once more and massaged the cheek with his palm.

“Does that feel good?" He asked, “Do you like that?”

“I love it, Dracule.” You moaned into the kiss. When you pulled away you kicked the covers to the bottom of the bed and wrapped your leg around his waist as you continued to feverishly make out with you.

Mihawk loved when you liked this. A normal poised, in control woman succumbed to the deep desire of her lover. It was almost endearing how badly you wanted him. He knew your heart was racing.

“You look divine.” He said as he held onto the thigh that was at his waist and stroked the warm soft skin. He traced patterns into your skin while the two of you kissed. The soft sounds of your kissing filled the room.

“Dracule.”

“Mmm, yes.”

His touch became more aggressive the more you made out. And soon he was moving you onto his lap with his cock pressed against your ass. His hands at your hips, he rubbed circles into your left hip with his thumb as you adjusted yourself onto his lap.

“You look divine too.”

“Thank you.” He said, he tensed up as you raised your hips and seated yourself onto his cock. He held onto your hips tightly as you got comfortable. He exhaled deeply but it got caught in his throat however when you started to move your hips.

”Like that?“ You asked.

”Yes, you are doing perfect.“ He replied as he moved his hips. He rolled them against you as you moved in return. His heat raced in his chest as he felt your tight heat around his cock. He tried to hold back his noises for the sake of the others in the castle but that plan was soon abandoned when the pleasure became insurmountable as you continued to move up and down his length.

”Ah!“ You moaned, ”Dracule.“ You placed both hands on his toned chest to keep yourself stable as you rode him. You moaned and moved your hips as you felt the pleasure well up in your gut. You loved having sex with Dracule, it was an intense feeling that you couldn't put words to.

He looked at you with such tenderness, such commitment to his cause. The cause of loving you, to be a loyal man to you. You leaned down and kissed him once more as you rolled your hips. You were a tight fit around him, but he found the feeling quite amazing.

Pleasure roamed through both of your bodies as you passionately made out. Like two halves of the same whole, a perfect fit for one another. You felt your heat hammer in your chest as you continued to move with Mihawk matching your pace. The kiss deepened as you moved.

The pleasure was an immense feeling, the sounds of sex filled the room ad most likely bothering your other guests. But in that moment neither of you cared, you only wanted one another. You only wanted the rush of pleasure that came from being in bed with the warlord himself.

”You are a gift.“ He said, ”The gift I want to unwrap over and over again and devour your bearings. I want to worship where you stand and be loyal till I am nothing more than a pile of bones.“

You smiled and pressed your forehead to his while you continued to move your hips, “Good thing, Dracule.” He said, “I'm not going anywhere.”

“Excellent.“ He said as he kissed you once more. He groaned against your lips as he matched your pace. His cock was nudging against your sweet spot as you both felt the wash of pleasure over both of you. ”A sight to behold.“ He added as he pressed his forehead against yours. His breathing was ragged. He could feel the sweat on his body as he held you against him.

”Dracule.“ You said in a slightly higher voice as you felt the curl of orgasm in your gut. The overwhelming feeling of pleasure.

"I am not going anywhere, dear.' He said, ”As you say, we are stuck together.“ He grabbed you by the hair and held your head back as he gazed into your eyes with devotion.

”Please.“ You said.

”Always.“ He replied as he quickly moved you over so you were on your stomach with your ass in the air, facing him. He sank into you once more, the pleasure still swirled in his gut. He watched you grip the pillow as he started to fuck you.

You moaned into the soft pillow under your head as he moved quickly against you. The slapping sound of sex was dominant in the room as he made quick work to make you orgasm.

With another hard thrust, he finished inside of you but kept the pace of his thrusts until you came as well. Then slowly his pace ended and he pulled out. He grabbed you in his arms and laid in bed with you. Your bare bodies are exposed to the cooling bedroom air.

”How was that?" He asked, “Does your face hurt?”

“No, no, Dracule. Everything is perfect.' You sighed contently in his arms. You felt at peace, even in the care of the most feared swordsman. He may be Mihawk to most, but to you he will always be - “Dracule~”

#dexlexia writes #reader insert #anime x reader #mihawk x reader #mihawk one piece #one piece mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #dracule mihawk #op mihawk #darcule mihawk #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece smut #oneshot

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hollowed-theory-hall · 4 months

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Secrets of the Darkest Art: How to Make a Horcrux

So I saw many theories regarding how to make a Horcrux, but none of them really made perfect sense to me, so I decided to give it a crack myself as part of my mission to understand Lord Voldemort/Tom Marvolo Riddle (Which I think I did, big post coming about that at some point, this is but another piece of that puzzle of a man)

So this is my reverse engineering of a ritual to create Horcruxes based on book evidence, my knowledge of real-world alchemy, real-world ancient Greek cults and rituals and linguistic analysis.

How to reverse engineering a dark magical ritual:

The first thing, is to define what we knew fore certain:

The name: "Horcrux"

The creator is an Ancient Greek wizard named Harpo the Foul.

A death is required in the making.

A Horcrux holds a piece of the casters soul that anchors them to life so they won't die.

I'll actually start with the third point.

How to split a soul?

Both Dumbledore and Slughorn mention a death being required to tear your soul to make a Horcrux, and that never really sat right with me. It magically doesn't make sense and even the canon examples we have for Horcrux murders make this statment iffy.

We have seven examples of murders used to create Horcruxs (thanks to one Tom Riddle being dramatic):

The Diary - Myrtle Warren - killed by a basilisk. Sure, Tom freed the Basilisk, but it hardly seemed targeted at Myrtle specifically and you can argue he didn't actually kill her (more a manslaughter by negligence). He didn't cast the spell, so how come this tore his soul?

The Ring - his father (Tom Riddle Sr) - Avada Kadevra.

The Cup - Hepzibah Smith - she was poisoned by her house elf. Sure, the elf was under the imperious, but it wasn't a first-degree murder, and like with the Basilisk I find it hard to consider this the same as casting a killing curse. Magically those are very different things.

The Locket - Muggle Tramp - Avada Kadevra

The Diadem - Albanian Peasant - Avada Kadevra

Harry Potter - himself - backfired Avada Kadevra

Nagini - Bertha Jorkins - Avada Kadevra

Now, I used the term "magically different" or "magically make sense" what do I mean by that?

Well, besides the fact I'm going to make a full post about how I see magical theory in the Harry Potter Wizarding World, I'll say it takes a lot after occult philosophies from Alchemy that are very old, Slughorn mentions as much in book 6 and there are a few other references to it. I'm just gonna cover the basics required for this theory.

In Alchemy, everything (people, animals, plants and rocks) are built of three base components:

The Salt - the body - the physical form.

The Sulfur - the soul - the self that holds the divine flame.

The Murcury - the spirit - the life essence that binds the salt and sulfer together.

Now, in Alchemy, the main study is in purifying and combining these different aspects of material. Let's look at a herb, for an example:

If we want to retrieve its salt, we'll dry the herb completely using fire to leave behind a fine light grey ash that represents only the physical form.

If we wanted its mercury we'd distill all liquids from it until we get a purified, clear liquid which in the case of plants would be alcohol (it's why alcohol is referred to as "spirit").

And if we wanted its soul, we would take the remains from the distillation and drying process which would be a kind of oil.

(it can get more complicated with different materials, but this isn't a post about Alchemy)

Now, back to Horcruxs.

So, if we would want to split a soul, Alchemecly, how do we go about it?

Well, we don't. Not really. See a soul can't really be split, as every part of it, every bit of that oil from our random herb represents the entire soul. It's why something like a Horcrux could theoretically work in giving a full life to the diary the way we see in Chamber of Secrets.

Additionally, to work with any material in Alchemy, you are required to purify it first. It means that to get a piece of soul to bind to a diary, you need a pure soul.

Killing someone else won't sever your own soul from the spirit and the body, it's not how this works. Killing someone severs their spirit and therefore splits their body, spirit, and soul. Besides, an Ancient Greek man, like Herpo was, would hardly consider murder as vile as we do today. It wouldn't even cross his mind that any murder (even an indirect one) could harm one's own soul.

No, the only way to "split" a soul is to first sever it from life, disconnecting the bond between soul and body. Essentially, the only way to promise you immortality is to kill yourself.

I know it sounds a little confusing, but, essentially, once the soul is severed from the spirit and body you can split it. Think of the herbal oil, once you have the oil, separate from the rest of the plant parts, you can combine it with new ingredients. You can only work on a specific aspect once you severed it from the other two and as what binds all three together is spirit — life — the only way to do it for a human soul — is death.

But really, how?

Well, here comes the second thing we know about making Horcruxs — that dear Herpo was Ancient Greek.

In Ancient Greece they had multiple different religious cults, some of which were Chthonic cults. Cults that dedicated themselves to death or ditties and heroes associated with death and more importantly — rebirth.

Many of these cults were dedicated to figures like Orpheous, Dyonysus, Persephone, characters in mythology who are known for going through the underworld — through death — and coming back out. These cults were very secretive and not much is known about their practices, but some is.

What is known is that they had rituals were they reenacted a death and then rebirth (usually drinking wine — a water if life, was the representation of rebirth).

This created a very clear idea in my head — to split a soul, you'll have to ritualisticlly, magically kill yourself, severe a peice of your soul and then revive yourself with a water of life — a potion.

This potion is never mentioned, but I believe it exists due to these Chthonic cult rituals and how they were structured. Not only that, but the Greek underworld did have a river known for being incredibly painful to drink, literally made of fire, but being able to bring the dead back - The Phlegethon River.

Note: Lethe River Water (the river in the Greek Underworld that makes the drinker forget) is a canon ingredient in a Forgetfulness Potion.

So what is the dead body for?

Well, congratulations, you killed yourself to retrieve a sliver of your soul and revived yourself so you won't stay dead. You found an item you can keep secure to tie that sliver of soul, too. Now, how would you bind then? After all, the only thing meant to bind a human soul to a body is a human spirit - a human life... you get where I'm going with this.

This is why Tom didn't have to be the one to do the deed. As long as he had a recently deceased corpse to harvest the life from to use to bind his newly split soul and the item of his choice.

It explains why nothing was missing from the bodies. Myrtle and the Riddles were investigated by the Ministry of Magic. One would assume the aurors would've noticed if any corpse was missing a hand due to the killer eating it (as other Horcrux theories suggest).

Not only was nothing missing from the body, the soul was intact. Myrtle became a ghost after death, a ghost is quite literally, just the soul, no body, no spirit.

So the only thing that was taken from Tom's victims was their life, quite literally at that.

Is that all? Can we make a Horcrux now?

Not really. See, when analyzing spells in Harry Potter is their name.

Avada Kadevra - is a reference to an Aramaic healing spell "Abracadabra" pronounced in Aramaic as: "Avra Kadebra" and meaning "I will create as commanded". Merged with the Latin word "cadaver" meaning "corpse" to create -> "I will create dead bodies as commanded"

Or Wingardium Laviosa - is a cross of the English word "wing", the Latin word "arduus" (meaning "high, tall, lofty, steep, proudly elevated"), or "arduum" (meaning "steep place, the steep" and the Latin word "levo" (meaning to "raise, lift up"). So together the spell means -> "lift high up".

So, it's pretty clear spells, their names and incantations are very self-explanatory. So a Horcrux should be no different.

I've seen some attempts at translating the name Horcrux. Unfortunately, these attempts treated the name as Latin, modern Greek, or Old English. Herpo, was Ancient Greek, though, so I went and translated a few possible meanings from Ancient Greek (Classical Greek and Homeric Greek are what I looked at):

ὅρκος (orkus, pronounced "hor-kus") - an oath, the object by which one swears, bound by oath (still used in modern Greek).

κρόκες (crukes, pronounced "cru-kes") - saffron-colored (blood red in Greek), crocus flower. The crocus flower symbolizes both death (the saffron that is the spice) and rebirth (the golden crocus which brings renewal and joy) because Demeter wears them when Persephone returns from the underworld in myth.

So what we have is a spell called "binding oath of death and rebirth" which all around sounds fitting.

There might also be a "made in blood" tucked at the end due to the association of κρόκες with the color of blood.

But what does it matter?

Well, somewhat. As now with this name, I expect the binding between the spirit from the victim, the split soul, and the item would be done in a sort of oath - an orkus.

The association with blood gives us another hint. Blood is the part of the human body most representative of life. Therefore, in Alchemy, your blood is your spirit. So it'll make sense that your own blood would be used in the binding process or more correctly in the process of turning another person's spirit into your own. Making the thread to bind the body (item) and the soul piece your own. As it also refers to just a red firey color, it can indicate the Phlagatton potion I hypothesize should be part of the ritual due to how Chthonic rituals usually went, as the Phlagaton river is made of fire.

So we have a general idea on how to make a Horcrux. You need an item of your choice to bind your soul to. You need a life (spirit) harvested from a human that you transformed into being your own using your blood. And you need a piece of your own soul, which you get by killing yourself and then reviving yourself. And you finish it off by binding it all together with an oath.

But how could you make one accidentally?

So, everyone knows Voldemort succeeded in somehow making a Horcrux accidentally, something a lot of theories I saw don't account for. Becouse whatever process you need to go to to make a Horcrux, Voldemort went through all of it the night he died the first time and marked Harry.

All the steps for my method of making a Horcrux were met that night.

The item in qustion is baby Harry, nothing interesting there.

The soul sliver was split the way it always is — through death. Voldemort dies, killed by his own killing curse and that is what splits his soul.

The life or spirit that then binds his soul to Harry isn't Lily's spirit or James'; it's his own spirit that acts as a binder between Harry and Voldemort’s split soul. Because the spirit was already his, there was no need to transform it by blood.

Step-by-step guide to making Horcruxes:

I'm not going to actually give the full step-by-step least a budging dark lord is looking for this information. I do have notes about exact incantations and even the full recipe and instructions for the Phlagaton potion I'm going to mention. These instructions won't be here since they are more in the realm of speculation and headcanon. This is just the overview of the ritual based on canon information and the occult philosophy I mentioned above.

Step 1 - Life and Blood

Get access to a recently deceased human and extract their Mercury (Spirit or Life Essence).

Submerge the retrieved life essence with your own blood on a new moon (life and vitality). (7 drops of blood will probably do)

Step 2 - Water of Fire

To complete the cycle of death and rebirth you’ll need the Phlegeton Water potion to return you to life at the end of the cycle.

As you brew the potion, it must be brewed in a dark room, preferably underground to remind as much of the underworld as possible.

While brewing the potion one must be in the mindset of the Phlegeton, must be willing to go through agony to achieve eternal life and imbue these thoughts in their potion. (In alchemy, when working, it is believed you imbue your work with your thoughts during the Alchemical process. As an Alchemical process affects both the material being worked and the Alchemist themselves)

Likley Ingrediants:

Saffron spice

Golden crocus flower juice

Pomegranate juice

Step 3 - The Ritual Preparation

Set up your space so none of the components may escape the ritual space and so the ritual will not be interfered with.

Make sure the spirit you retrieved is within reach.

Make sure the item you desire will hold the Horcrux will be within reach as well.

Coax the spirit into the item and prepare it to tie your soul to the next step.

Step 4 - Death and Rebirth

To create a thread of your soul to tie to the ritual, you must die figuratively. Go through death to return stronger from the underworld.

Once you feel like death has reached you and your soul is separated you should heal your soul and finish the cycle, bringing you out of death and back to life by drinking the Phlegeton potion.

After the pain subsides you will feel healthier than before, stronger than before, and you’ll have an additional thread of sulfur (soul) in your chest to be pulled out and placed into the Horcrux.

The split-off soul should, on its own, try to search for life and a body to be bound to. If it doesn't, coax it out yourself and bind it to the Horcrux with the spirit you made in step 1.

Step 5 - Oath of Life

The connection between the body (the item), soul, and spirit is still unstable, if most likely strong enough to hold.

Swear the oath of life to finalise the bound between you, the Horcrux, and the soul thread together to ward off death.

I'll end with this note I made regarding Horcruxes when I started working on this theory:

I don't know what all goes into the process of making a Horcrux but I don't believe a person who truly likes themselves and doesn't want to inflict pain on themselves could make a Horcrux. Tearing up your soul is an act of arrogance above nature, sure, thinking you deserve to change the laws of the world and be the exception is part of it, but it's also an act of self-hatred. You need to hate yourself enough to be willing to kill yourself, hurt yourself, and tear yourself up in the most unnatural ways — hence why so few can do so, let alone more than once.

And Tom Riddle does seem to have that exact mix of arrogance, spite, and low self-esteem that would allow it.

#hp theory #hp #harry potter #harry potter theory #harry potter thoughts #tom marvolo riddle #lord voldemort #horcrux #hollowedtheory #overthinking #voldemort #voldemort analysis #wizarding world #tom riddle #horcruxes #nagini #moaning myrtle #slytherin

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estro-gem · 7 months

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Jax x Ragatha: The snake and the water spring

The Amazing Digital Circus AU: Oasis.

Author's note: I found this show by chance and I took a great liking to it! So now I did a thing, instead of studying for upcoming exams, because I love making things difficult for myself, apparently.

I have no idea what the fandom is like, but I'm playing it safe just to be... well... safe. I just loved the concept of this show so much that I couldn't help but be inspired by it! It got me thinking and I let it all out in this... thing.

I want to write more one-shot fics about the other characters and how they fit into this au too, but I don't know when I'll be able to.

WARNING! None of these characters are mine and everything mentioned and described is purely made-up fiction; inspired by works that are not my own. Nothing should be considered canon or taken seriously - we are all here to have some harmless fun! No age restrictions. I think this might be appropriate for all ages...?

Please show some love and support for Gooseworx; the creator of The Amazing Digital Circus!

I definitely butchered Gooseworx's characters by adding unnecessary 'relationship dynamics' and deviating from their original personalities. I promise that the actual show and characters are so much better than they are in my false portrayal of them.

SUMMARY:

A fanmade take on the events following Pomni's arrival and after the crew had dinner together. This is focused on Jax's point of view, but still written in the third person.

Jax confronts Ragatha after the pilot episode's 'dinner' and does his best to comfort her in a way that works for them. That's it.

Please enjoy!

THE SNAKE AND THE WATER SPRING

Jax was a desert snake.

Nothing but a cold-blooded pest that lived to find his next meal.

When one is left to die under the scorching sun, you can’t stomp on the sun for creating a desert, but you could stomp on the desert snake if it added to the pain of surviving in said desert. The Digital Realm was nothing but a desert sun – a cage with no exit and an evil with no target.

It was no secret why so many had lost their minds here.

Jax took on the role of being the snake. It was never announced or planned, but it was deemed necessary by all who came to know the realm. The inhabitants of The Amazing Digital Circus craved any sense of control; something they could hold accountable for their torment – something they could punish. A menace, parasite.

Evil with a target: Jax.

It was fun to act out while everybody went about their lives. He could unapologetically be the worst being known to man and thrive on the rage and hatred of all he had affected. If they hated him, he was fulfilling his role perfectly… and that meant they could stay sane and do their parts as he did his. Less people would be lost to insanity… and the group would grow stronger.

Everyone had a role in their system – an oasis was established, with Ragatha as the heart of the oasis; their very own water spring.

But when a new invading creature bursts into the oasis with no knowledge of this system, their system would be doomed. Pomni happened to be that invader. Everyone could collectively, yet silently agree that she was acting by her own careless devices since she arrived a few hours ago. She greedily soaked up their water source and left it barren, dry, and suffering.

Granted, Pomni didn’t know how their oasis worked, but it didn’t change the fact that she disrupted everything by showing up. She would have to catch on quickly and prove herself useful, before anyone else loses their minds.

They lost one of their own already… and they almost lost their beloved Ragatha; Jax’s equal and opposite.

Their precious water source.

Snakes offered venom, while water springs offered hope of life. They all desperately needed Ragatha to survive. While most would assume her to be fine after being fixed by Caine, Jax knew better than that. He saw her reluctantly stand aside Pomni to support her – beautifully acting within her role as she always would, but it was clear that Pomni still didn’t understand how scarce the water was by then. Rags was spread thin enough by handling the extra stress and enduring the continuous pain of being corrupted by the abstraction, but that didn’t stop Pomni from practically having a mental breakdown at the dinner table.

Jax saw that coming from a mile away. Thank goodness he silently took the open seat next to Pomni, silent in his insistence that the ragdoll should keep her distance for the time being. He’d give anything to destroy the little jester for abusing his doll. Ragatha was acting perfectly normal at the time – her masked smile perfectly set on her face – until it was time for them all to retire to their respective bedrooms.

Jax wished that he would’ve just dragged her after him when he booked it from the abstraction earlier today. Pomni would have been the perfect distraction for them to escape and get Caine.

He stood at Ragatha’s door after dinner.

Jax made a point to ring the doorbell this time. Usually, he’d just pluck out a key and saunter in like he owns the place, but with what happened today, he’d make an exception. Everyone has their limit – and someone has already reached their limit today. They couldn’t risk losing another one. Especially not Raggs. They all really needed her.

When she didn’t open, he tried the bell again. Nothing.

Well, time for the key, then.

He shoved his hand down his front pocket and fished out the doll’s room key. The bunny didn’t waste time opening the door. He wanted to see what state the girl was in, despite dreading the possibility of finding an abstracted amalgamation on the other side.

Silence.

Not even a creak was heard from the hallway. The room was lit up as it usually was, so that was a good sign, at least. Jax couldn’t see an obvious black body of eyes – another win. But where was Ragatha? He did see her walk into her room, so she had to be here.

He walked around, keeping his cool, casual composure fixed, despite no one being around. It was effortless at this point. It became a way for him to focus on what he could control in this crazy digital prison; himself.

He couldn’t, however, control his ability to spot a blasted ragdoll, it would seem. He scanned the room again, until his eyes fell on her ¾ bed. Could she-?

The bunny rolled his eyes at himself as he lowered himself onto his knees – maybe he could convince himself that he was not phased by the situation. Bending down, he peered beneath the bed frame.

Jax sighed in exasperation. Or was it relief? Both?

Ragatha was in the state she was in before retiring to her room. No gliching, no extra eyes.

Just Raggs.

She didn’t look good, though. The doll was curled up beneath her bed and blindly staring ahead of her. It didn’t look like she was breathing – not that they needed to anyway, but it was uncanny to see Rags like this. She was their voice of reason. She was a water spring in this desert.

If she dried up, their desert would be doomed.

Jax silently stood up and walked back to the open door again. No need to make a fuss over this. He took hold of the door handle and shut it from the inside. Key in hand, he locked the door and nodded to himself. Ragatha needed a raincloud… and he’d have to fill that role now. It’s the least he could do after leaving her to fend for herself when they found the abstraction today.

Why didn’t she run with him? Why did think she could fix someone whose mind was broken beyond repair? Why didn’t she just leave the rookie as bait?

Because that just wasn’t her role, was it?

If it weren’t for her nature – her role – none of them would have made it this far. It dawned on Jax, once again, how close they were to losing their beloved doll. How close they were to being stuck with an invader who knew nothing about what it took to survive in this hell hole.

Enough.

Back to the bed, crouched down and silent Jax positioned himself to lay down and simply look over the red head from a relative distance. There was enough space for the doll to crawl out of hiding without having to touch him. The bunny still hadn’t said a word. It’d be stupid to talk, and he didn’t feel like making the effort. He just wanted things back to normal again – well… as normal as it could have been.

Now Kaufmo is gone, a new creature was invading their home, tearing it up from the roots and tipping the delicate scales of the balance they worked very hard on creating. All because of a lunatic ringmaster having the bright idea of creating a fake exit-door. Someone better get that jester on a tight leash to get her to fall in line, like the rest of them were forced to.

He knew he, for one, wouldn’t mind roughing her up a bit. It was his specialty – his role. The parasite. The menace. The instigator.

Evil with an actual target.

The sound of shifting and movement had Jax blink out of his own head. Ragatha was slowly and dumbly making her way out from under her bed. Her eyes were still fogged over and her face still eerily blank, but at least she came out of hiding out of her own will. In a matter of seconds, the doll was out from her hiding place and settled on the floor beside Jax. She was staring him in the eyes now, waiting for the bunny, silently pleading.

Jax hadn’t had his aloof-douchebag persona engaged since he locked Ragatha’s door. She didn’t need a menace now – she needed to be grounded; revitalized. She needed a dark raincloud to fill up the water spring they all needed.

He didn’t look forward to what needed to be done, but he wouldn’t allow anyone else to do it.

He moved to stand up and held out a hand to help her up. He took note of the way her hand was shaking when she took his and gently guided her to the bed. The red head was the first to sit, then moved to lay down on her back and numbly stare at the ceiling. With a deep breath, Jax gathered himself mentally and cautiously crept onto the bed and positioned himself to briefly hover over her, before lowering his full weight onto Ragatha.

He had his head in the crook of her neck, on the left shoulder with his ears folding back to floppily droop to his upper back… with his left hand resting on the opposite shoulder. His body, although slim, enveloped hers and caused her to sink slightly into the mattress. His legs just loosely laid over and aside the ragdoll’s. It was more important to have his weight resting on her torso anyway.

For a long moment, they just motionlessly laid on the bed like this. To an outsider, it would look like they fell asleep atop each other or simply cuddled together very closely.

An outsider wouldn’t see that Jax was focused on the slow process of Ragatha’s body relaxing under his weight and her breathing slowing to a regular rhythm. An outsider wouldn’t have known that this was hardly the first time they’d done this – how long it took Jax to learn that this make-shift deep-pressure therapy was the most effective grounding technique for Ragatha to collect herself again.

They wouldn’t understand that Jax didn’t do this out of wanting to, but rather out of necessity.

Jax didn’t like to be touched. If anything, he was very capable of merely tolerating it. Everyone in the circus knew that he was touch-averse; some even used that as leverage to mess with him if the situation called for it. It was a necessity that he endured to keep his doll sane – to keep anyone of importance here in the circus, sane. Their whole lives revolved around mental strength. It was all just a matter of staying sane.

The laid there for what felt like a lifetime.

Slight shifting beside Jax alerted him that the doll was moving her arms – previously stiffly pinned to her sides. This was good, she felt comfortable enough to move around now!

Her left hand gently snaked up to the bunny’s head and slowly, softly petted his ears in a longitude motion. Her right hand wrapped loosely around his middle-to-lower back – motionless. This was bad, Jax did not like being touched like that!

While he was fine with the rhythmic touches of Ragatha’s left hand, he despised the idle position of the right hand resting on his back. He couldn’t prevent himself from tensing up in discomfort.

Bad touch, bad touch, bad-

This caused the ragdoll to tense up and rip her hands off him as if he burned her.

Oh no you don’t! We are not starting all over again.

He slowly pulls away and propped up unto his elbows, hearing Ragatha’s breathing pick up as she presumably spirals into her own thoughts on how he was going to leave her like this. Jax cast down a disapproving look. He broke his gaze to unceremoniously take her right hand – now clutched close to her chest – and intertwined their fingers, before resting his head on her left shoulder once again. He close eyes as he use his free hand to put her left hand on his head again, waiting for her to resume her petting.

Good touch; this was a good touch. Please understand.

Thankfully, Ragatha relaxed… and continued her previous slow, rhythmic motions. Slowly, Jax felt her relax once again and he indulged into her need for touch by stroking his thumb over hers occasionally.

Soon they fell into a rhythm; Ragatha would pet Jax’s ears 3 times, then it was his turn to stroke his thumb over hers. Then they would repeat the routine. This also helped Jax cope with the touching; the routine. The rhythm.

It felt like hours ticked by as the two just practiced their little unspoken routine. Jax grew used to it after a while, almost forgetting that his new mattress was now a sentient ragdoll and completely tuned into their rhythm of touches.

Pet… pet… pet… thumb. Pet… pet… pet… thumb.

Jax didn’t like touch, but he loved routine.

The doll and the bunny’s time together, once nothing but grounding techniques, grew to become an intimate exchange of touches and caresses – all wrapped in a routine, like a dance. Jax felt warm and fuzzy inside; for once he basked in the moment of enjoying his dolly. He lazily wondered if Ragatha felt the same. He shifted his head to look at her.

The doll looked down to meet his eyes when she felt him move. He could swear that she looked at peace, basking in the bliss of their closeness. For some reason, she looked like an angel. They all saw her as their angel. Had he successfully pinned a heavenly body beneath him?

Her gentle, longing gaze made a kaleidoscope of butterflies erupt from his core.

This wasn’t the first time this feeling invaded his being when they did this – as rare as these moments were. He wasn’t sure when he started experiencing such feelings during these rare encounters, but as months crawled by, he felt drawn to his dolly more and more. Based on how she looked at him, he could only assume that she felt it too.

Something so foreign, yet so familiar.

He didn’t fail to spot the warmth rushing to her cheeks when their eyes met. She looked so ethereal beneath him, especially when her breathing picked up under his firm gaze. Her lips were parted, and her eyes were lidded. This time, it wasn’t fear or overstimulation. It was anticipation. It was desire.

Jax internally flinched at the tingly sensation when he smoothly burrowed his face into Ragatha’s neck. She shivered at the breath he let out against her skin. He could tolerate the touching a little longer, as long as he could see her crumble again. He wanted to see her walls crumble again.

“Jax- ”

Oh… he had to hear her again. More clearly, next time. This was torture, but she made him into her own personal masochist. His skin crawled at the sensation of her skin shivering against him, but he needed more. He could take it. Just a little longer – he just had to stand these sensations a little longer. He looked at her again.

Ragatha was reverting to a helpless puddle. The doll’s arms were gripping at the covers beneath her, successfully eliminating the bother of excessive contact that he despised. Jax didn’t know if she did it with that intension or without thinking, but either way, he was thankful. He really wanted more.

Why couldn’t he just be normal?

He lifted onto his elbows again and – dare one say – lovingly looked at her face. She could only peek back at him, breathing slightly faster than usual. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shaky hand rise from the covers and hover next to his cheek, while her eyes pleaded for his mercy. He hesitated but bit the bullet to comply; leaning into her touch while desperately trying to ignore the odd tingles. Jax convinced himself to kiss her wrist and drowned himself in the pleasure of hearing her softly call his name.

He only heard it because he was listening so closely for it.

Yes.

DING DONG

In a flash, Jax braced himself up into a crouch and slammed his foot down with a mighty THUMP upon hearing Ragatha startle into a fit when the doorbell chimed. His hair on his back stood on end and his claws ripped through his gloves, leaving gouges in the covers beside the doll’s head.

His precious doll was disturbed again!

He heard her soft cry of fear and his blood boiled with a thirst for vengeance. Only he can make her cry out. He’ll skin the soul that dared to-

“Ragatha…? Can we talk?”

That DAMN jester!

“Jax?” a quiet voice trembled in his ear from beneath him. Jax stopped glaring at the door to softly glance down and see what his little doll wanted.

“Don’t…” Raggs sounded like she was begging while being held at gunpoint, whispering despite their rooms being enchanted to not hear anything from the outside when the door is shut.

Jax wouldn’t dare let that thing inside. Raggs was upset enough as it is.

“Look, I know it probably wouldn’t make a difference…” Pomni’s voice came from the other side door again, “…but I’m so sorry for running off… Again… I saw that exit and I had to see if it was real. No one else believed me and I started to think that I was losing my mind. You understand that, right?”

Jax placed both his hands down on the mattress, blocking the doll’s view of the door as if it could block the sound of the voice from reaching the Raggs’s ears, still hovering over her. He knew that his dolly didn’t want to hear anything the harlequin had to say now – he had half the mind to get up and bash the newbie’s head in.

“I hope we can talk about this some time. You are probably tired after such a long, crazy day.” Pomni’s voice died down near the end, “It feels like you’re the only good person here.”

She really is, but she’s too good for you. Selfish leech.

Jax looks down to the girl, still stiff as a board beneath him. Her eye was shiny with the swell of tears. He melted at the sight – anger simmering down. She was just a sweet little rag dolly, she didn’t deserve any of this, but oh, he was so happy to see Ragatha finally emote something again. She was OK again. Their water source was filled once again, now threatening to spill over. He’d happily welcome the flood.

He needed her.

The sound of fading footsteps causes Jax to rip his eyes to the direction of the door. His hearing was better than the dolls, probably thanks to being a rabbit.

Good riddance.

Ragatha seemed to relax at the sight of Jax deflating his stance, reading that Pomni probably left her door. She hesitantly reached up to cup Jax’s cheek. Jax followed her hand’s motion and scoffed, cringing at the invasion. He’s had enough touching for a week. It sucked to leave his doll so soon after being distressed again, but he couldn’t bring himself stand any more of this. He quickly got up and smoothed out his clothes, but not without missing the flash of hurt in the doll’s eyes. He felt bad, but he had to be strong with the new girl around, so straining himself now would only make matters worse and mess up the whole system.

Still, seemingly bored, Jax stood in his spot while rocking on his heels and looking off to the side, only sparing her a glance. Raggs sat up by then. She looked a little worse for wear, but it’s an improvement from hiding under her bed. She rested her elbows on her knees with her chin in her hands. The hurt in her eyes was long gone, but she looked tired. Poor thing, Jax shared the sentiment.

He felt her eye bore into the side of his face and the bunny couldn’t stop himself before he rolled his eyes and looked to her again. He could’ve choked on air when he saw her face, but the years of steeling his demeanor left no trace of his inner turmoil.

Raggs sported that longing look in her eyes again.

They were so close this time – closer than they’ve ever been before. Each time they spent together on nights like this, although few and far between, they grew closer… and hungrier. Neither understood what it was, but they never had the chance to just collapse into it, tonight being the closest to that.

But there was always something, right?

Jax allowed gaze to soften. His doll offered a small smile that almost ripped his heart out if his chest. It was drenched with melancholy of something she knew they could never have.

Because their roles in their little ecosystem didn’t allow for it to ever be theirs. It would never work.

This was survival.

The rabbit steeled his demeanor once again, but this time, his doll’s face didn’t fall.

Good, as it should be.

Jax walked to the door and fished out the key from his front pocket. He didn’t bother looking back. If he did, he wouldn’t have the will to leave anymore. When he opened the door, though, he couldn’t help but mumble out teasingly.

“See yah later, Doll~!”

He wished that he could shout his affections for her out into the void instead.

“I’m not your doll.” Ragatha responded, voice still wobbly and tired, but perky regardless. She knew just how to indulge him.

Yes, she is… she always will be.

Fanart: Evil with a target

Oasis: TADC AU list

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fatecantstopme · 5 months

Text

Not Yours to Take

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: In which Dean begs Castiel to take away your memories of him to keep you safe.

Warnings: cursing, use of pet names, canon violence.

A/N: Told from Dean's perspective. Shares some similarities to Cass taking Lisa and Ben's memories.

"Absolutely not," I said angrily.

"Dean...come on. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself on a hunt. You know that," she responded calmly.

"This isn't a normal hunt, (Y/N). I don't want you anywhere near it."

"I don't care. I'm not letting you go alone!"

"I've hunted alone hundreds of times, I'll be fine."

"You just said this isn't a normal hunt. Going alone is a suicide mission. Hell, the whole damn thing could be a trap."

"Exactly!" I yelled. "So why would I put you in danger like that?"

"Our lives are dangerous! We choose to keep fighting every damn day, no matter the cost--why should this be any different?"

"Because I can't lose you!"

She stared at me quietly, sadness etched onto her beautiful face. "Dean..."

"No--don't look at me like that. With Sam...with Sam gone, it's just you and me. You're all I have."

She sighed. "You still have Cass."

I shook my head. "He's never around anymore. Too busy with whatever angel business he's got going on."

"There's no one else to call," she said softly.

I knew she was right--hell, I knew I shouldn't do this alone, but that didn't mean I was going to risk her life. I crossed the short distance between us and gently touched her cheek. "I shouldn't have yelled...but my mind is made up. I need you to stay here."

She looked defeated as her pretty (y/e/c) eyes met mine. I hated seeing that look on her face, but I would rather have her alive and angry at me than dead.

"Fine," she murmured. "Just--for the love of God, be careful."

"Careful is my middle name, darlin'," I joked.

She rolled her eyes. "'Reckless' is more accurate."

I grinned as I placed a soft kiss to her lips. "I'll be back by midnight, okay? I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Dean Winchester."

"I'm coming back, (Y/N)," I said softly. I turned away from her to grab my jacket and my bag, unable to look at her any longer. She was scared for my life and she had every right to be...

We'd been hearing rumblings in the last several months of a supernatural hit that had been placed on my life. Basically every monster was out to get me--I'd become the hunted. I wished Sam was here every day, but he was one more person I couldn't save. I would be damned if (Y/N) was added to that list.

I started to walk out the motel room door when I heard her inhale a shaky breath. I couldn't look at her--couldn't bare to see the worry in her eyes--so I turned my head back in her direction, but my eyes were trained on the floor. "I love you, baby."

"I love you too, Dean," she whispered.

I walked out the door without looking back, knowing there was no way I would leave if I looked at her.

**********

I made my way to an old abandoned farmhouse just outside of town. We knew there were reports of a demon infestation of some kind. Our intel indicated this was the demons' home base. I had this strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, which intensified the closer I got, but I did my best to ignore it.

I opted to park the Impala about a half mile away to keep the demons from hearing me coming. I walked the rest of the way, staying off the main road.

When the farmhouse finally came into view, I noticed it was completely dark. It didn't look like anyone was home. As I crept closer, I continued to see signs of abandonment and disrepair. There were no indications that anyone--human or not--had been there in a long time.

That feeling in my gut crept back up and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. My hunter's instinct told me something was very wrong and I would be wise to listen to it.

Suddenly, my phone began to buzz in my pocket. I pulled it out and the screen lit up with (Y/N)'s name. A sense of worry came over me and I answered without hesitation. "Hey baby, you okay?"

I heard muffled sounds on the other end of the phone and my heart began to beat faster. "Babe?"

I listened more closely and I heard what could only be described as sounds of a struggle. I felt a wave of panic wash over me and my grip on the phone tightened. "(Y/N) answer me!" I yelled.

I started running back towards the car, not giving a damn if someone saw or heard me. Whatever was happening to (Y/N) was happening back at the motel--so that was where I needed to be.

I wasn't more than 100 meters from the car when I heard a terrifying sound that cut me straight to the bone. It was clearly a woman's cry of pain--and I knew in an instant it was (Y/N)'s voice.

"(Y/N)!" I yelled into the phone as I ripped open the driver's door of the car and slid in. "(Y/N/N), answer me, please!"

The engine roared to life and I took off in the direction of the motel. There was nothing but silence on the other end of the phone and terror had begun wrapping its icy tendrils around my heart. "Baby, please..." I whispered, not expecting a response.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N) can't come to the phone right now. Can I take a message?" an unfamiliar voice said through the phone.

"Who the hell is this and where is (Y/N)?" I asked angrily.

"She's right here, but she's a little--unconscious--at the moment." The voice chuckled. "Who I am is really not important. All you need to know is I'm here to collect on a bounty."

My foot pressed down harder on the gas and I tried to control my breathing. "Look here you son of a bitch. If you hurt her, I swear to God, I will kill you and everything you have ever loved."

The voice chuckled once more. "The famous Dean Winchester bravado. I had a feeling I would like you."

I had already assumed he knew who I was, but with my suspicions confirmed, my fear for (Y/N) only increased. "I'm the one you want, so why don't you leave her out of this."

"You know, I would, but you've been a very hard man to track down. I figured going after the person you love most would just make my job easier. Now, you'll come right to me."

I knew there was no point in arguing. The panic in my voice when I was yelling for (Y/N) had already made it very clear how I feel about her. "If I hand myself over, you'll let her go?"

There were a few beats of silence before the man responded. "I will agree to those terms."

"Good. I'll be there in 20 minutes."

I hung up the phone and continued to speed towards the motel. I had a feeling that whatever this creature was that had (Y/N) wouldn't have any qualms about ignoring the terms of our deal. I couldn't just go in there and hand myself over, but I also couldn't go in guns blazing. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I'm not suicidal.

I exhaled heavily, mind set on what I needed to do. I didn't want to--I didn't even know if he'd respond, but I didn't have any other choice.

"Castiel," I said aloud. "I, uhh--I could really use your help here."

All I could hear was the roar of the car's engine.

"Come on, Cass--I know you're busy, but this is important. I'm not praying to you just for fun."

Still nothing.

"Damnit, Cass! It's (Y/N). I need you, man. Please." I hated begging, but desperate times and all that...

"I'm here Dean."

I jumped slightly as Castiel appeared in the seat beside me. "I know I called you, but it's freaky as hell when you do that."

"Sorry," he said simply. "You said this was important?"

"Some asshole kidnapped (Y/N) and I need your help."

"Why would someone kidnap (Y/N)?"

"Oh, I don't know Cass--maybe it's because I have a goddamn bounty on my ass!" I said sarcastically.

"I see. They're using (Y/N) to get to you."

"Good job. Now we're all caught up," I grumbled. "I don't know what we're dealing with, but my money is on a demon--probably a group of demons."

"I can see why you called me."

I shot him an annoyed glance, but didn't comment on his statement. "I left her at the motel thinking she'd be safer there--I never thought one of these monsters would come after her to get to me."

"It's not your fault, Dean."

I was surprised he said that--because it was definitely completely my fault. If I had just let her come with me, she wouldn't be in this situation. "Then who's fault is it, Cass?"

The angel remained silent. I sighed and focused my attention back on the road. "We're about 15 minutes out."

"Do you have a plan?"

I thought about it for a moment. "Yeah...it's not a great plan, but it's all I got."

**********

"You're right, that's a terrible plan," Cass commented.

"You got a better one?" When he didn't respond, I continued. "Didn't think so."

"We have no idea how many of them there are."

"I'm aware of that, Cass."

"Just making sure."

"Just...poof out of here so they don't see you. This only works if they think I'm alone."

I could tell he didn't like the idea of me walking into a trap by myself, but we really didn't have another option. When I glanced back over to the passenger seat a moment later, he was gone.

I took a deep breath. "God I really hope this works..."

**********

Ten minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot of the motel. I looked around and spotted at least five people milling about outside, all trying to look like they weren't focused on me.

I got out of the car and started walking to the room, heart hammering in my chest. I had salt and holy water in my pockets, and an angel blade tucked into my waistband. I was as prepared as I could possibly be on such short notice.

When I reached the door, I turned the handle and was surprised to find it unlocked. As I stepped inside, my eyes scanned the room as quickly as possible. There were at least four demons in the room and (Y/N) was tied to a chair in the center.

"Dean! So nice of you to join us," one of them said. It was the same voice I had spoken to on the phone.

"I'm here, as promised. So why don't you just let her go."

The demon's eyes flashed black and he gave me a dark smile. "Oh please...you didn't actually think I was going to let her go, did you?"

My jaw tightened and I felt anger bubbling beneath the surface of my skin. While I hadn't assumed he would let her go, I really didn't like hearing it.

"I warned you, you son of a bitch," I ground out. My eyes flicked over to (Y/N)'s unconscious form and I took note of the obvious injuries. God only knew what they'd done to her before I got here.

"Yes, yes, murder, blah, blah, blah," the demon muttered. "Unfortunately, I'd already caused her quite a bit of pain before I made that promise, so there was really no use in keeping it."

My hands clenched into fists and I fought the urge to attack. Four to one were not good odds...nine to one was even worse. I needed Castiel to pick off the demons outside before I picked a fight with these ones.

"So which one are you? Demon #4,235?" I asked.

"I am Ariel," he answered smugly.

I choked out a laugh. "You're the little mermaid?"

The demon growled lowly. "I am significantly more powerful than a mermaid." With a flick of his wrist, I went flying against the wall, unable to move no matter how hard I struggled.

"I really hate Disney," Ariel grumbled. "At least I'll be rewarded for delivering your head on a silver platter."

"That's nice," I grunted. "I hope King Triton is pleased."

Ariel tightened his fist and I suddenly couldn't breathe. This wasn't the first time I'd felt this sensation, but it sucked every damn time.

There was a strangled cry from outside the room and it got the attention of all four demons. Ariel loosened his grip on me and I was able to breathe again. "What was that?" he hissed.

The other three demons shrugged in confusion.

"One of you go check it out."

None of them looked like they wanted to go, but eventually one stepped forward and went outside to check. He left the door open behind him, but he never came back in.

"For the love of Hell," Ariel muttered as he moved towards the open doorway.

"Not Hell," Castiel said from inside the room, angel blade slicing through the skin of the nearest demon.

Ariel's hold on me kept me pinned to the wall, but I felt it weaken as he spun around in surprise. Cass had grabbed ahold of the last demon and sunk his blade into the demon's chest. He glanced up at Ariel and took a menacing step in his direction.

The demon immediately abandoned his meat suit, a massive cloud of black smoke escaping into the night. I fell to my knees as his power left with him, body aching from the intensity.

"(Y/N)," I gasped out as I got to my feet and rushed to her side. "(Y/N/N) can you hear me?"

She didn't respond and I felt a moment of panic as I rushed to cut the binds around her wrists and ankles. She fell into my arms and I picked her up with ease. "I need to get her to a hospital."

"Of course."

"Uh-uh. Don't you leave yet. I know you can't heal her, but I might still need your help."

Castiel looked perplexed, but he nodded and followed me to the car.

**********

I wanted to stay by (Y/N)'s side when we got to the hospital, but the nurses told me to stay back in the waiting room. Castiel took a seat to wait patiently, but I had too much adrenaline to sit down. I paced back and forth for a good half hour, my boots wearing a pattern into the old carpet.

People were giving me odd looks, which I ignored. I was singularly focused on remaining in control of my emotions as we waited for news about (Y/N)'s condition. In the strangers' defenses, I did have a fair amount of blood on my clothes, none of which belonged to me, and I probably looked a little angry--okay, maybe a lot angry.

"Riley," a doctor called from the front desk. It was the name I had given when I brought (Y/N) in.

I practically ran to the doctor, Castiel following behind me. "How is she?" I asked, worry lacing my voice.

"She was quite clearly in a rather violent altercation, but she's going to be alright. She sustained a head injury, as well as several lacerations and bruises, but she's awake and asking for 'Dean'. I assume that's one of you?"

My body visibly relaxed. "I'm Dean."

"Would you like to go see her?"

I nodded and the doctor gestured for me to follow. When Cass tried to come with us, the doctor shook his head. "I'm sorry, but only one person at a time."

I turned to look at him, but Cass waived me on. "Go. She needs you."

I nodded gratefully and followed the doctor to her room. When I walked through the door, I saw the woman I loved lying in the bed, looking smaller and weaker than I'd ever seen her. It was enough to nearly shatter my heart into a thousand pieces.

She looked up at me when I stepped through the door and offered me a soft smile. "Dean," she murmured lowly.

"Hey baby," I said softly. Tears were stinging my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I didn't want her to know how emotional I was feeling in the moment.

"I'll leave you two to talk," the doctor said before closing the door behind him.

I crossed the room and grabbed her hand, giving it a tight squeeze. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

"For what?"

"For leaving you alone. I didn't think they would come after you..."

She squeezed my hand and a gentle smile graced her pretty face. "It's not your fault, Dean. Besides, I'm fine."

I nodded and bit my lip. "Thanks to Cass," I admitted.

"Thanks to both of you," she insisted.

I offered her a small smile. "I'm glad you're okay."

She tried to pull herself up into a more comfortable sitting position, but a gasp of pain escaped her lips and she slumped back against the pillows.

"Hey, don't try to move too much. Let me help you."

"Thanks," she mumbled.

I started to help her adjust so she'd be more comfortable. "Lean forward for me, baby, let me fix these pillows."

She nodded and leaned forward, giving me access to the crappy hospital pillows that were wedged between her back and the bed. As I moved them, her hospital gown shifted slightly, revealing her right shoulder blade to me. My body stiffened and I inhaled sharply as I took in the mangled skin where her anti-possession tattoo had once been.

I tried to keep my exterior calm as I finished adjusting the pillows and she leaned back against them, wincing at the pain. My face must have betrayed me, because when she looked up at me, a worried expression crossed her face.

"Dean? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I lied smoothly. "I just don't like seeing you in pain."

She nodded, but didn't look entirely convinced. I had no way of knowing if she was already possessed or not, but there was one surefire way to find out. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small vial of holy water I had there from earlier in the evening.

Unfortunately, she noticed my movements and her eyes narrowed. "I really wouldn't do that if I were you," she hissed, eyes turning black as night. "You'll hurt your precious (Y/N)."

Anger flared up inside me. "Get the hell out of my girl, you black eyed son of a bitch."

She laughed. "Why would I do that when I'm having so much fun in here? She's in here with me, you know. Wide awake and fighting."

She got out of the bed with shocking speed and sent me flying across the room. Apparently the demon had been faking pain to make me think it was (Y/N).

"You know what the best part of all this is, Dean?" The demon asked as it approached me. "She's going to watch helplessly as I gut you like a pig. I might even make her eat your entrails, just for fun."

I winced as I pulled myself into a sitting position. I was getting really tired of being tossed around like a damn rag doll. "I think you underestimate her," I said with a grunt of discomfort.

"The fight weakened her before I ever possessed her. She's not strong enough to overpower me." The demon leaned forward and grabbed my face in its hands. "You're not much of a threat either without your little angel pal--and you won't do a damn thing to hurt your beloved (Y/N)."

The demon was right about one thing--I wouldn't hurt (Y/N), at least not irreparably. I still had the bottle of holy water in my hand and I made the split section decision to toss it into her face. "Sorry, baby," I muttered as the demon jumped back in pain.

I managed to get to my feet, but the demon flung me against the wall again, holding me still with its power. I managed to gasp out (Y/N)'s name before the demon began to suffocate me.

I stared at the face of the person I loved most in this hellscape of a world and silently pleaded with her to wake up--to fight back. I didn't want to die, but more importantly, I didn't want her to have to live with the guilt.

I was starting to fade, I knew I was going to black out soon and then it would be all over for me. I struggled against the power that held me in place, but it was useless. I saw the demon pull a knife out of a bag of (Y/N)'s clothes. I recognized it instantly as the knife I'd given her as a gift when we first got together. Fitting that it would be the weapon that kills me.

The demon began to approach me and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was truly about to die. What was worse was the accompanying fear along with it. Would I be going back to Hell? Would (Y/N) be okay without me? Would I get to see my brother again?

Suddenly, the demon's black eyes flickered back to (Y/N)'s normal (y/e/c) ones. Her hand shook and she dropped the knife she was holding, a strained gasp escaping her throat. The demon's power over me faded in an instant, and I sunk to the floor, gasping for breath.

"Dean," she gasped, her face contorted in pain as she struggled to hold the demon at bay. "I can't--I can't hold him off much longer."

"Cass!" I yelled, trying to summon the angel for help.

"Exorcise him or kill me," (Y/N) begged. "I can't let him kill you, but I'm not strong enough to maintain control."

I suddenly wished I'd paid more attention when Sammy tried to teach me Latin...at least the words to the damn exorcism. "I can't remember the words," I said in distress.

"Then you have to kill me," she pleaded.

"I can't. I won't."

"The demon--it won't...won't let me recite the words."

"Son of a bitch," I muttered under my breath. I pulled myself off the floor and took a step towards her. "Hang on for me, baby. Please."

She nodded and I turned my back to her to open the door. I stuck my head out in the hallway and saw Castiel sitting patiently at the other end. Clearly no one had noticed the commotion happening in this room, including the angel. I stepped out into the hallway and waved to him, hoping he would see me.

Cass looked up at me and I waved to him, motioning for him to come here immediately. He stood up and started walking towards me and I gestured for him to come to the room. I ducked back in and closed the door. A second later, Cass appeared inside the room.

"What's going on, Dean?"

"She's possessed."

"That's not possible."

"The demons cut off my anti-possession tattoo," (Y/N) said through gritted teeth. "So, a little help would be nice."

Castiel fixed his gaze on her and his eyes widened slightly. "I can see the demon within you."

"That's disturbing," I muttered. "Get it out of her."

"I can't without killing her."

"What? Use your mojo, dude. That's what you do."

"Haven't you ever noticed my 'mojo' as you call it burns out a person's eyes?"

I thought back to all the times I'd seen Cass kill a demon and realized he was right. "Shit."

"Do you know an exorcism?" (Y/N) managed to ask. "Preferably a fast one."

"I know where I can get one." With those words, Castiel disappeared into thin air.

"Not a great time to disappear, Cass!" I yelled at nothing.

"He'll be back," (Y/N) said. "I think."

"Are you okay? How much longer can you hold him off?"

"He's really strong, so not much longer. Also, he really doesn't like you."

"Most demons don't," I said with a shrug.

"He keeps muttering something about the little mermaid. I don't know why."

My eyes widened slightly. "Well I do. His name is Ariel...and I may have made a little mermaid joke when we met earlier."

She managed a weak laugh. "A demon named Ariel. Awesome."

In any other circumstances, I would have laughed with her, but I was too worried to appreciate the humor.

"I have the exorcism," Castiel said as he reappeared beside me.

"Great!" I grabbed the book from his hand and realized it was my dad's journal. I held the leather tightly as I began to read the words from the page. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas omnis incursio infernalis adversarii..."

The more I read, the more intense (Y/N)'s struggle became. She fell to her knees and cried out in pain, but I kept reading. I needed that demon to get the hell out of her body.

"Ergo, Draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica, adiuramus te! Adinos!" The moment I finished speaking, (Y/N)'s head flew back and black smoke escaped her mouth.

After a few seconds, her body collapsed on the floor and I rushed to her side. "(Y/N)!"

She lifted her head and her eyes met mine. She offered me a weak smile and said, "I'm fine."

I breathed a sigh of relief and helped her off the floor and back into bed. "Cass, go grab an anti-possession necklace from the trunk of my car."

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, Cass was gone.

"I feel like I owe you another apology," I said softly.

"For what?"

"Well...you didn't exactly get my first apology and I also need to apologize for letting you get possessed."

"You didn't let anything happen, Dean. None of this was your fault. Shit like this happens to people in this life...I know what I signed up for."

Cass reappeared with the necklace before I could respond. I took it from him and placed it around her neck, breathing a sigh of relief once it was in place.

"I will wait outside," Cass announced. He disappeared again before either of us could say a word.

"Angels," I muttered under my breath, earning a light laugh from (Y/N).

I turned my attention back to her and I sighed. I hated seeing her like this--I hated seeing her hurt and in pain. It made me want to kill whatever had caused her pain, only this time it was all my fault.

"Dean, I wanna go home," she whispered.

I wished more than anything that we had an actual home to go to, instead of yet another shitty motel. I wished I could give her the life she deserved, but I knew that would never be in the cards for us.

"Alright," I murmured, placing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Lemme talk to the doctor."

**********

We drove for over an hour to a slightly nicer motel in another town. I didn't want her recovering in that rundown place--the same place she'd been attacked and possessed.

(Y/N) was asleep in the backseat when we arrived, having fallen asleep almost immediately after leaving the hospital. Cass and I had ridden in silence the entire time, allowing me to have time to think.

I got us a room while Cass waited with (Y/N) in the car. When I returned, I gently woke her up and helped her into our room.

"I wanna take a shower," she stated. "I feel disgusting."

I knew the feeling, so I agreed to her request even though I was worried about her falling. Besides, I needed some time to talk to Cass alone.

I helped her into the bathroom and started the shower for her. She refused my help any further and shooed me out of the room. "I'm weak, Dean, but I'm not an invalid."

I chuckled and threw my hands up in surrender. "Just yell if you need me."

She waved me off again and I walked out of the bathroom, leaving her to her own devices.

Cass had sat down in a chair near the door and I made my way towards him. I didn't want to have this conversation...I didn't want to ask of this of him, but I didn't see another option.

"Thanks for coming to the rescue today," I began.

"You know I will always help you," he responded.

I nodded. "I actually need your help one more time before you go."

"With what?"

I took a deep breath. "This bounty thing--the price on my head--it's putting the people I love at risk. More risk than I ever imagined." I started pacing back and forth as I spoke, letting the words just flow. "What happened today just solidified it for me, ya know? I'm obviously living at risk every day of my life, but that doesn't mean I should be dragging other people into it. I mean, look at all I've lost so far--you and (Y/N) are all I have left."

I paused, needing a minute to just breathe. "My worst fears almost came true today. (Y/N) was hurt because of me...she could have died because of me. Then she was possessed by a demon who wanted to kill me? Imagine if he'd been successful! She would have had to live with that guilt the rest of her life and it would have killed her. I don't want this for her--any of it. She deserves better and I need you to give it to her."

I sat down on the bed facing Cass with a sigh. My head dropped into my hands and I felt tears pressing against the backs of my eyelids.

"What is it you're asking me to do?"

I stayed silent for a moment, taking those precious seconds to make sure this was the right decision. When I was certain, I looked up at my friend, sadness etched into my face. "I need you to take away her memories. I want her to forget about this life--to forget any of this exists. I want her to forget about demons and angels and all the shit that goes bump in the night. I want her to forget about the death and the pain and the endless battles. I want her to live a happy, normal, safe life--far away from this...far away from me."

Cass stared at me in silence for a moment. Neither one of us were aware our conversation was no longer private--the shower had turned off over a minute ago.

"Do you understand what you're asking? She will know nothing of this life, which means she won't remember you."

The tears finally pushed through my mental block and slid down my face. "I know. I hate the idea of her being out in the world loving someone who isn't me, but I can handle it because she'll be safe. She'll be happy. She needs to forget me...or she'll never be safe."

I heard the bathroom door open and I quickly wiped my eyes, trying to hide the pain I was feeling. I turned towards her, trying to put a smile on my face, but it slipped away the moment I saw her expression.

She was standing there, hair wet and dripping, wrapped in nothing but a bath towel. Her eyes were filled with sadness and a pain so deep it broke my heart.

"Castiel, will you give us a minute, please?" she asked softly, but firmly.

"I'll just be...outside," he muttered as he disappeared.

"(Y/N)--"

"No, Dean. This is my time to talk," she said cutting me off. "Sometimes you make me so incredibly angry--like a violent level of angry I didn't even know I was capable of. You're so...so...arrogant. So certain you're right and every one else is wrong. You make decisions without stopping to think how those decisions affect other people--you make decisions on my behalf without even consulting me. Do you ever stop to think about how I feel?"

"(Y/N), I--it's for your own protection--"

"Damn my protection, Dean! And damn you!" she yelled. "You don't get to decide for me. You don't get to determine my life path! You don't wanna be with me, then that's your prerogative, but don't you dare make that decision for me. I chose this life with eyes wide open. I knew the dangers, I knew the risks, and I chose it anyway. I chose you, Dean Winchester, knowing everything that comes along with that."

I starred at her in stunned silence--I'd never seen her this angry before.

Tears streamed down her face as she continued. "I have loved every moment of our life together--the good and the bad. I wouldn't choose anything else, certainly not a 'normal' life. I love hunting monsters with you. I love saving people with you. I love traveling the country with you. I love living in shitty, dingy motels with you. I love getting into fights, coming home bruised and bleeding, battling our way through everything that comes our way. Do you know why? Because I'm with you--because I love you. So don't you dare take my memories from me, Dean Winchester. They are not yours to take."

I stood up and crossed the room with surprising speed. I wrapped her up in my arms, holding her tightly to my chest. She leaned into me, ignoring the pain her body was in. I kissed her on top of her head and held her for a long time before she finally pulled away from me.

"I just want to protect you," I whispered.

"I know, Dean...but the safest place for me will always be right beside you. There's no place else I'd rather be."

I touched her face and closed my eyes, just feeling her warmth emanate from within. I knew I couldn't live without her--at least not happily...I needed her more than I ever cared to admit. I wanted to protect her--to keep her safe, but maybe she was right. Maybe the safest place for her was in my arms. I would die to protect her--I would kill to protect her. Who else would be willing to do that?

"I love you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), and I'm sorry."

She smiled up at me. "I love you too, Dean...and I know you are. Just don't try that shit again."

I chuckled lightly and leaned down to kiss her. Part of me hated admitting she was right, but I knew from that moment on, I would never let her go. Never.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester angst

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oval3000 · 6 months

Text

Oneshot!

Yandere Simon Riley x reader (Soap's younger sister)

(Pretend that you guys are adopted or something idk. Also the Canon story with Makarov will be different - he's dead)

Warning: Toxic behavior, light (Forced) Smut, Assault, Curse, very toxic. Yandere, Violence. Slight yandere platonic Soap.

-------------------------------------------------------

When Johnny's parents told him that he's going to have a baby sister at the age of 13, he was shocked and didn't expect it. At first, he wasn't really thrilled since the age gap was really big. His father will tell him that he'll have to protect you and love you like an older brother should do.

When they brought you home, he immediately realized the things his father had said. The feeling of not caring for you changed. He loves you. He would drop you off and pick you from school whenever he had the chance. He would take care off you when his parents go out on their date.

He would help you with your homework, even if he didn't understand it well. He would show up to all of your school events. He would give you pep talks whenever you needed it.

He got full custody of you, when his parents passed away.

When he joined the military, you were worried about him, but he assured you that everything was going to be okay. You would send him letters and he would reply, which caught Simon's attention.

He was able to get a safe house, after his encounter with Makarov to keep you safe. The only one that knows about it is Price, Gaz, and...Simon.

When they were stranded and needed to get shelter, Soap brought them to you. You met them...you met Simon. Simon couldn't help but to stare at you. You could feel his eyes on you and it didn't feel good. It felt like you were about to get eaten alive.

You never really had good luck with boys since Johnny would scare them away. So the feeling of a men staring you, made you feel a little uncomfortable.

Afterwards, Johnny told you that everything was going to be fine since they took down Makarov, you were happy that Johnny was no longer in danger.

He was happy that he can come home to you. He wouldn't know what to do if something bad happened to you.

So you can imagine his rage when he comes home and you're gone.

He didn't waste anytime to call Price and everyone, telling them that you are gone. They went to check the house and saw broken vases and picture frames on the floor. It wasn't rocket science to know that you have been kidnapped.

Johnny expressed his anger and concern to Simon, who he reassured Johnny that everything is going to be okay. They all tried to track you down. Visiting possible locations where you could be only to storm inside empty, abandoned, places.

Johnny couldn't sleep or think of anything else except to get you back. Each night when he tried to get some rest, all he can think is the moment his father told him to take care of you and failed.

The team told him to take it easy or else he would hit the breaking point of his own health. Price ordered him to take time off while they worked on finding you.

Simon would come and visit Johnny to check how he's doing. "What if she's gone forever, Simon? What would I do with myself if I never get to see her again?"

Simon looked at him with pity, "don't worry, Johnny. We'll find her."

After checking on Johnny and helping the team on finding you, he would go home to his safehouse. He would place his bag on the couch and take off his mask and jacket.

He would walk to kitchen and open the door, turning on the lights. He would walk down on the creaky, woodfloor, staircase. He would stand there, Infront of the twin bed centered on the back wall of the basement.

He would stare at you.

Chained up that is hooked to the bed headboard. You sat up seeing him there. The man that took you from your home and locked you down in his basement. "Please don't hurt me."

"Love, I'll do whatever the fuck I want with you." He took off his shirt, showing his toned muscles. He climbed on the bed, having you to back away as much as the bed headboard allows you to. "Be a good girl and spread those beautiful legs of yours."

He gripped on your waist, thrusting his hip into you. You felt his cock drilling you so hard and deep you held on to the chain links that is connected to the metal cuffs on your wrist.

You hated it. He loved it. He loved the way you squirm under his tough body structure." Ah..Yes! Be a good girl for me, love!" His grunts and moans will take over your ears aswell as the sound the bed creaking and the sound of wet skin slapping eachother.

He would flip you over, pushing his your head down into the mattress and lift your ass in the air, thrusting even harder. "You're fucking mine." He pulled your hair back, forcing you to arch your back. "All mine."

He would cum deep into your womb. He would get up and leave you there, naked. You would bury your head into the bedsheets and sob quietly. He hated to hear you cry. He really hated it. "Shut up! I'm doing this because you don't listen to me!" He clasp your cheeks with his hand. "You're gonna learn, yeah," he pulled down his pants and shoved his cock in your mouth.

You were forced to swallow his cum.

You have no idea how long you've been in his basement. You don't know if Johnny is out there looking for you. When you tell Simon about it, he would take off his belt and fuck you till you pass out.

At first, you were his sex toy. He'll come home to you and drill you in till you could see the stars and leave you naked alone in the dark.

However, lately, he would lay in bed with you. He would caress your body as you lays on his bare chest.

He would unhook the metal cuffs from your wrist and carry you, bridal style, upstairs to bathe you. He would come home with flowers and teddy bears for you. On your birthday, he would bring a piece of cake with a lit candle on it.

You couldn't tell if you have lost your mind or just accepted your fate, but you wanted him. You want Simon. You want his attention, his love, his affection to you.

When he comes home to fuck you, you felt pleasure than pain. "Mhm...yes! Ah!ah! Harder Sir!"

"Love it when you call me that, love." He huffed, burying his head on the side of your neck, moving his hips back and forth. The sound of the bed creaking so uncontrollable. "You're so...ah!...s-so fucking beautiful."

Although, his demeanor never changed. "How many times do I have to tell you!? You're not leaving this room!"

"I want out of these chains, Simon!" You plead to him, holding out your chained wrist.

He lowered his head to you, "No! And if I were you, I would drop it."

That's how it was for who knows how long you've been tied up in his basement.

You weren't the only one loosing their minds. Johnny, running around trying to found you.

However, his focus came to Simon. How? Because he visited you.

Johnny went to visit Simon, to talk to him, about you. He thought he had some lead on to where you are. When Simon was looking as to where he thought you might be, Johnny wanted to get a drink.

Johnny is no stranger to Simon. He knows where Simon keeps the drinks. So when Johnny touched the basement door, it snapped Simon.

Johnny brushed it off. But not having you in his arms, he would honestly put the blame on a mail man that he met once. So it wasn't out of character for him to honestly question his own teammates. Afterall, they all knew where you were. They knew where the safehouse was. So how bizzare would it be to accuse his friend of possibly taking you.

He would spend weeks, just studying on his mates and all the possible scenarios lead up to Simon. It wasn't really that out of place, Simon became a bit sloppy. His energy of founding in the beginning, shifted. When Johnny would want to go to his house and go to the basement to get some drinks, Simon wouldn't allow him.

So when Simon opened his door and saw Johnny there, he felt the nerves rising. "Hey, Lt. Sorry to just drop by like this. I just wanted to take break and being in the house without her makes it hell."

"No problem, Johnny." He moved outside to let him in. He felt his throat to dry up a bit. Johnny has been visiting him a lot these past few weeks and it was unusual.

They both began to talk and drink. Simon excused himself to use the restroom. Johnny didn't waste time to go to that basement. He opened the door and slowly walked down to not create loud creaking. He reached the bottom floor and saw the bed and you on top.

You were laying down on your side. When you heard the sounds of steps, you thought it was, "Simon?" You peaked up and saw your brother standing there.

It's been so long that you've seen him, so him being there made you cry out. "Johnny!?"

He stood there frozen. He wished there was nothing here. He wished he wrong. He wished that it wasn't Simon. He wished that it wasn't someone he had trusted. "(Y/n)?"

You are so happy to see you. So happy that you couldn't see Simon creeping up on Johnny. "Simon! Please don't!" Simon knocked Johnny out cold.

You plead and plead Simon to let Johnny go. He tied him up. When Johnny woke up, he felt his arms on his back. He went on his knees and saw Simon standing near you. "You..you fucking bastard. I trusted you. You're supposed to be my friend."

"I only did what was the best for us." Simon went to Johnny. Crouched down infront of him. "You left me with no choice. You're overprotective of her, I knew this was the only option."

"The only option! You bastard! She's my sister and you took her away from me. I would never have someone like you to end up with her." His anger with his harsh down tone words made Simon take a deep breath.

"I know. So you kinda left me with no other choice." He pulled out a gun and pointed it to his head.

"NO! PLEASE! Please! Don't do this, Simon!" You cried for him to stop. "Please! I'll do anything you want! Just please don't kill him! Please.

"Sweetheart, you don't make the choice here." He held the gun tight, almost hesitant to pull the trigger.

"I love you, Simon! I love you. I'll be with you! Please don't kill him! We'll both forget about this, right Johnny!?" Johnny looked at you from the side and gave a small nod. "Let him live and I'll be with you. I'll do whatever you want me to do. I'll listen to you,I swear!"

"If I lower my gun, will you attack me?" Simon said to Johnny. You gave Johnny head shooks to tell him not to do something stupid. Johnny wanted to kill him, he does. But he knows the outcome if this. If he does die, then you'll be with Simon. If he does attack Simon, then he'll have to kill his friend.

How he wished he was wrong about this.

"I won't attack you. If you let me go, I won't tell anyone about this. As long as I get to see her still, I promise I won't interfere with anything else. Just let her go off those chains." His voice toned down a bit in a more calming manner.

Simon lowered his gun and turned his head towards you. "You love me?"

Your eyes widen with fear as to what Simon is going to do. "Yes. Yes, I love you!"

He ran to you, cupping your face with his hands, "You love me, sweetheart? I love you too. We'll get married and gave kids together yeah."

"Yes. But don't hurt Johnny. Ou-our kids will want their uncle." You smiled at him trying to hide your fear.

"I won't. I love you so much."

The words stick through. Johnny told Price that you were found and that some punks kidnapped for you 'their fun' it took a couple of months for people to find out about you and Simon.

The wedding was beautiful to him. The honeymoon was magical to him. And the announcement of your pregnancy was amazing to him

Johnny watched you, his little sister. Being trapped in a marriage with Simon.

As for you, you couldn't quite think of anything. It was all Simon. He knows what's best for you.

So you should trust him and love him.

Right?

#yandere simon riley #ghost x reader #fanfic #ghost x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon x reader #simon ghost x reader

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another-lost-mc · 1 year

Text

kisses on the battlefield | solomon x reader

cw: sfw. hurt/comfort. descriptions of canon-typical violence. light angst with a happy ending. gn!reader (referred to as mc, they/them pronouns). wc: 1.7k+

“No, I won't go,” Solomon argued with Diavolo, a large map on the table between them. He was already on edge from the looming danger waiting for them all on the horizon; he wasn't convinced you would be safe if he left you now. He looked to Barbatos for support, but the demon's unreadable expression made him feel even worse about this plan.

You were assigned leadership over the group of witches and wizards sent by the Sorcerer’s Society. You shared an apprehensive look with him as you crossed paths outside the tent. You both wanted to linger, to stay and share one more farewell (in addition to the hurried moments you shared earlier that day), but there wasn't anymore time.

Solomon practically threw his hands up in the air and spun on his heel so he could follow you, Diavolo's orders be damned. He knew the human sorcerers were responsible for defending the eastern quadrant—he'd find you and keep you safe. That was his intention, until Barbatos blocked his way and Diavolo called his name behind him.

Solomon snarled in frustration as he turned back to the demon prince. "The reapers don't need me. Let me pass."

But Barbatos was unmoving, and Diavolo shook his head. “The reapers need your help repairing the damage to the seal that allowed this to happen. We need to stop the hostile force here, before the three realms descend into chaos. Your pacts should give you the additional reinforcements you need.”

With a few exceptions, of course—Asmodeus and Barbatos were both needed elsewhere, and Solomon knew he wouldn't be able to summon them.

Solomon gritted his teeth. "Fine, then I'll bring MC with me. They can assist with repairing the seal." And I can keep an eye on them myself.

Diavolo sighed heavily, and Solomon saw something vulnerable in his eyes, something that looked like regret. “MC is too important to our defenses. The human sorcerers need someone to lead them that they can trust in your place. They're also the only one capable of empowering the Avatars of Sin to bolster our ranks, should we need them to."

Diavolo understood Solomon’s hesitancy. He had a similar conversation with you, privately, before Solomon arrived. You were equally torn about being separated from him and facing the unknown dangers alone. You took less convincing to go along with Diavolo's plan—you knew this was the best course of action, even if you didn't like it.

Unfortunately, there was no guarantee Diavolo could make to you that Solomon would return unscathed while he assisted the reapers with their task. Likewise, there was no promise Diavolo could make to Solomon that even if he returned, you would be unharmed.

“You have my word that I will do everything in my power to keep MC safe,” Diavolo told him seriously. It was the best the demon prince could offer to appease Solomon's doubts, but the oath tasted like ash on his tongue.

Barbatos glanced at Diavolo knowingly behind the sorcerer's back, and the unspoken truth hung between them: Solomon would become their enemy too, should they fail to protect you.

Solomon realized he had little choice. He told himself that he would do this for you, because you deserved better than a future torn apart by war and death. He uttered a curse under his breath and glared venomously at Diavolo before he disappeared.

Solomon and the reapers finally sealed the magical tear that allowed the eldritch beasts to invade from the farthest reaches of the cosmos. He went to the battlefield to find you as soon as Thirteen assured him that their task was complete.

He expected to find you on the eastern front with the other sorcerers, but all he found there was the aftermath of carnage. The ground was broken and scorched by flame and it ran wet with odd, inky-black blood. He realized quickly that the largest battle must've been fought here and his blood froze in his veins.

He finally stumbled on some lingering demons and human sorcerers that were helping evacuate the remaining survivors. As soon as they mentioned a healers' camp set up near RAD, he teleported immediately to the Devildom.

Solomon recognized the battle-weary faces of his demon and angel and human acquaintances when he arrived, but he couldn't bear to stop until he found you.

His heart clenched with equal parts hope and worry when he finally spotted Asmodeus and Simeon speaking together near one of the tents. They both greeted him with relieved expressions despite their dirtied faces and ripped clothing, stained with mud and gore.

"It's good to see you," Simeon said, clasping his shoulder.

Solomon didn't have time for pleasantries. "I just arrived. Where's MC?"

Asmo shook his head. "They're fine. Lucifer and Mammon took them to one of the tents back there," he said, pointing to a small cluster of tents close to the RAD building.

Solomon tried to push past him, but Asmo grabbed his arm. He didn't flinch when Solomon bared his teeth angrily at him. "Let me go."

"Wait," Asmo urged him quietly. "MC's mostly unharmed, but Solomon it was—it was bad."

Icy dread flooded his body all over again. "Tell me."

Diavolo snapped the would-be assassin's neck in his grasp before he flung the limp corpse aside. Not far from him, Barbatos eviscerated an enemy with a slash from the glinting dagger in his hand.

"I don't like this," Lucifer muttered at his side. Diavolo nodded and peered around. The demon army was anxiously waiting, but the invasion they anticipated was nowhere to be seen. He trusted Thirteen's information that the dark, otherworldly threat had broken through the realms' defenses, so where—?

"My lord," Barbatos breathed, staring at something behind him in the distance.

Diavolo turned as a bright red flare shot into the dark sky. Another flare followed, and another, and another after that, until the sky was littered with dozens of fiery wisps of magic. It was a signal to warn the other defensive positions that the intruders were spotted, and they all came from the east.

The wind carried the shrill, foreign language of nightmare creatures as small portals appeared across the battlefield and the monstrous entities charged through and finally began their attack.

In an instant, another large, dark portal opened above the area where you and your fellow sorcerers were stationed. The ground shook as something shot from the portal and engulfed the eastern battlefield in purple flames and black smoke.

Oh, no.

Lucifer grunted at Diavolo's side and suddenly disappeared as the power of your pact summoned him to you. Barbatos was already redirecting forces to aid the human defenders, but Diavolo felt dread pool in his stomach. He took off in flight and slashed at everything in his path, hoping they weren't too late.

Solomon paused outside your tent when he heard Mammon's familiar voice within; he sounded exasperated.

"I don't care whatcha say, Satan says you gotta rest," the Greed demon lectured you.

"Mammon, I promise, I'm okay—"

The ice in Solomon's heart cracked when he finally heard your voice.

You were alive.

"Yeah, we'll see 'bout that. How many fingers am I holdin' up?"

"...three?"

Mammon scoffed. "Lucky guess."

Solomon couldn't wait anymore. He pulled the flap aside and poked his head inside the tent. Mammon was holding three fingers in front of your face, and you were trying to push his hand away. Your face lit up with recognition when they both looked to see who had arrived.

"Look, your boyfriend can talk some sense into ya. I'll see about getting you somethin' to eat." Mammon paused when he was passing Solomon on his way out and leaned towards him. "MC got hit by some type of curse, they were real dizzy for a while. Satan thinks it's worn off, but they need to take it easy. Got it?"

Solomon stared at you but nodded slowly. As soon as Mammon left the tent, he stepped towards your cot in something like a trance. He sat on the edge of the bed and glanced down when you grabbed both his hands in yours.

"I am so happy to see you," you breathed. Your smile trembled and tears dotted your lash line.

Solomon held your hands for a moment before he rested them on your lap and cupped your cheeks instead. He cradled your face in his hands so gently. He didn't know what to say. Words failed him—he was overwhelmed by the possibility of losing you earlier, and now by the relief you were here really here.

His eyes roamed your face desperately, drinking in the sight of you—a battle-worn version of you, perhaps—but in this moment, you were everything to him. He didn't know how to put his feelings for you into words, so he leaned forward and kissed you instead.

You made a surprised noise against his lips, but your fingers grasped weakly at the tattered sleeves of his coat and you drew him even closer. It was less of a kiss and more of a desperate press of your chapped lips against his, but you felt his warm breath fan across your skin and savoured the familiar taste of him on your tongue. It was comforting proof that he was alive—that you both were.

Solomon's body trembled so much it shook the rackety bed you were in, and he broke the kiss with a sob. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, the words raspy with so many emotions. "I never should've left you."

You shook your head and the corners of your lips twitched upward. "I'm grateful that I had such a good teacher," you joked, but it sounded flat to your ears when your tired voice betrayed you.

He leaned forward and buried another sob into the crook of your neck. He crushed your body to his and he hoped the salty tears on your skin and his arms wrapped tightly around you conveyed everything he felt for you—

—he won't ever leave you, and nothing in the three realms or beyond will ever hurt you ever again—

—but all his strangled voice could manage to croak out was a broken, "I love you."

You closed your eyes and smoothed your fingers through his hair, damp with sweat and dirty from the battlefield. His arms squeezed you even tighter, and you smiled despite the tears rolling down your cheeks. "I love you too."

read more: solomon masterlist | obey me! masterlist

#obey me #obey me solomon #solomon x reader #obey me solomon x reader #obey me x reader #obey me fluff #x reader #gn!reader #jes.2k event

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jksprincess10 · 6 months

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Are we out of the woods 1. The cabin

Summary : Your father is a dangerous man who has a lot of enemies. One day, you’re taken from your home by force to go to a safe cabin in the woods to be protected from an unknown danger by three of his men: Ironhead, Pope and Catfish. You’re not really a nature enjoyer, but in your boredom, you discover a new love for nature. You also get to know the men working for your dad and interest sparks between you and the mysterious and silent Francisco.

CW: canon-like violence, explicit smut, reader is kind of a princess at first, talks of divorce, drugs & alcohol, talks of addiction, slight age gap (reader in her mid 20s, frankie in his late 30s), jealousy, tension, frankie is a mess.

Fic masterlist

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"Dad, I can take care of myself you don't have to -"

"I'm sorry sweetie. You just don't realize how much danger you're in."

You knew your dad wasn't really in the military. He and his boys did kill people... but not to protect the country. Let’s just say your dad wasn’t the most innocent businessman, but you didn't want to know all the details. You were just happy to have a roof over you head and anything you wanted whenever you wanted. You wouldn't have to work a day in your life if you didn’t want to.

"This is Ironhead, Pope and Catfish. They will take you to the safe house and they will watch over your safety."

The three men are all shades of handsome. Ironhead is the classical pretty boy, blondish hair, and pale eyes. Pope is a tan Latino with dark hair and a dark stubble. Catfish is a shy looking man with patchy facial hair and pretty brown eyes.

You don’t acknowledge them at all, and you stop listening as your father gives them precise instructions. You barely have time to pack your bags before they enclose you in the backseat of a truck, next to the man called Catfish. Ironhead is driving and Pope oversees the map. You hope your neighbors don't see the commotion. Outside of your dad's job, you just wanted a normal life.

"Where are we going?" You ask.

You stopped recognizing the scenery a long time ago. You were rolling on rough country roads and the view was filled with trees with bright orange and deep red leaves. The earth was dry and yellow where there were no leaves.

"Somewhere safe." Pope responds pragmatically.

"I wish I could have stayed home." You roll your eyes and cross your arms against your chest.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but we have orders. Your dad pays us, not you." Ironhead says, looking at you from the rearview mirror.

"Fine. Wake me up when we're there."

Catfish is the only one not talking, his mind seems to be elsewhere.

The house is more of a cabin in the woods than anything else. You expected a bunker or something sturdier, but not this house made out of dark wood. It looks very remote and boring. Good thing you brought your kindle because counting the logs that composed the house would get boring very fast.

"At least it's not a tent." You grumble to yourself. The boys laugh.

"Sorry it's not a castle." Responds Pope. "Let's get settled."

The cabin is much larger on the inside. The boys would share a room with bunk beds, and you would have your private quarters. Thank god. You couldn’t imagine sleeping in the same room as three sweaty and probably snoring men.

You discover your room: it has no personality, but the bed seems big and somewhat cozy. There’s a small window, from where you can admire a calm lake. You leave your bag on the mattress and start unpacking. You brought a few changes of warm clothes, not knowing if you’d still be here after the snow started falling from the sky. When you’re done, your hunger manifests with a low grumble in your stomach. You go to the cabin’s kitchen to fetch something to eat.

"She's a spoiled brat."

"She acts like she's 12. What do you think, fish? "

Frankie sighs.

"Boss don't pay us to have an opinion. I'll take first watch."

When Catfish comes out of the bedroom where the boys are settling down, he finds you opening the cupboards with a sigh.

"You guys okay with...butter pasta?" You ask holding up your poor findings, a grimace on your face.

"Yeah. The guys eat whatever." It's the first time you hear his voice. It's slightly rough from his lack of talking. You wonder if he’s always so quiet and mysterious. He seems more interesting to you than the two other men.

You nod and get the water to boil. “Where are you going?” You ask as you see Catfish putting on his coat.

“Taking first watch, ma’am.”

“… Wait… My dad doesn’t really ask you to stand watch outside like a guard dog, does he?” You ask awkwardly. All of this was too much.

“Yes, he does. And I will do what I’m paid to do.”

With that, he’s gone. You shrug, even though you feel bad for the man standing outside in the cold fall night. Pope and Ironhead interrupt your thoughts.

“He’s always doing too much, don’t worry.” Pope offers with a smile as he sees Catfish through the small window of the door.

“I see.” You go back to staring blankly at the boiling water. “We’ll need food.”

“Hm. Respectfully… Didn’t know you could cook…” Ironhead says with a teasing smile. You roll your eyes not so subtly.

“You thought I had a private cook?" You take their silence for a yes. Your mother taught you how to cook and take care of a home so you could take care of your dad as well as she did. "Well, we’re eating plain pasta.” You drop the bag of noodles in the warm water and stir. “Do I have to call you guys by your stupid code names or...?”

“Guess not, since we might be here for a while. I’m Santiago, this is William and the guy with the sad eyes and the old cap is Francisco.”

You tell them your name, so they stop calling you “ma’am”. Not that you don't enjoy that sort of power you have.

"He's so dramatic." Santi sighs. Frankie still hadn't come back in, even though the pasta was getting colder and colder.

"He's doing too much." William agrees. "I don't think there's many dangers out here right now. Besides a few squirrels and maybe a bear. Maybe we should go get him, so he doesn’t die from starvation."

"I'll go." You take the bowl of lukewarm pasta made with butter, salt and pepper. It was the blandest thing you ever cooked. You open the front door and see the man sat on the front porch, gun in hand.

He looks up at you with those pretty dark eyes that shine even brighter under the moonlight.

"Francisco, is it?" You try to sound as pleasant as possible, as if not to scare a stray cat you were trying to pet. "Food is getting cold. I brought it for you, it's pretty bland but - anyway, I think the boys want you to come inside."

You leave the plate beside him and open the door, but his rough voice stops you.

"How do you know my name?"

"Santiago told me. I can call you Catfish if you want, even though it's not flattering at all."

There's the shadow of a smile on his lips. "Just call me Frankie. Only my mami calls me Francisco."

“Alright, Frankie.”

His name sounds so sweet on your lips. And frankly, it’s too cute for the man in front of you, who looks like he had seen better days. You don’t know if you’re hallucinating because of the warm light, but you swear you can see his cheeks getting red when you say his name.

“Well, good night, Frankie. You should come in soon.”

And he wants to follow you badly. But he has a job to do.

You close the door behind yourself, and he waits until you’re out of view to grab the plate and eat the bland pasta. Still, it was better than anything he could cook.

“No luck, boys.” You say as you come in.

“We’re not surprised. Thanks for trying.” Santi responds nicely.

William is already up and taking care of the dishes for you. You decide to go to the living room and to get a fire started. You imagine yourself spending long nights here, reading. The couch is old and torn in some places, but large enough for all of you to fit. There is a fluffy carpet on the cold floor and a coffee table, a perfect place where to place warm drinks. It's very cozy, very homey.

Your gaze rests on the window offering a view on the porch, where you imagine Frankie sitting. You don't know if he's actually there, the curtains are drawn, but you have a feeling he probably is.

Your stay might not be too bad after all.

#awootw #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie friday #frankie x you #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales triple frontier #triple frontier fic #santiago garcia #william miller #frankie morales x yn #frankie morales x y/n #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales smut

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peace-love-and-french-toast · 3 months

Text

Severus Snape rant

Disclaimer: I don't support JK Rowling's views and I'm not a TERF. TERFs, DNI for you.

Sorry for ranting, y'all. I'll try to keep things quick (note from the future: be warned. I failed). Spoilers and mentions of friendship toxicity and bullying under the cut.

By the way, for this I am generally talking about regular canon. When I discuss things people think about this, the headcanons are generally assumed to go alongside regular canon to complement it. I understand that there are fix-it fics out there where everyone is happy, and while I love that, I'm talking about how JK Rowling let it play out.

UPDATE:

Don’t interact with this post if you only want to insult me/my writing style. I am not accusing anyone of doing this, but I can see that there is a very definitive downward spiral, and I don’t want to see the bottom of it. However, I am willing to listen to arguments until things turn into personal attacks.

I don’t care that much about Snape: just a few lines on a page. I understand people have strong opinions on him (me too!). That’s fine. But I’m a real person, just like all the people on this platform (well, except bots). Let’s embrace that, and focus on the fact that we are all, in the end, Harry Potter fans.

Kat out.

Let me start with this: Severus Snape shouldn't be with Lily.

To keep to the simple stuff and the things most people can agree on first, no one "deserves" Lily. In this post, I was nearly guilty myself of talking like this, but please keep in mind: Lily Evans is not some kind of consolation prize, something given out to whoever is deemed the most worthy, the most angsty, whatever. Regardless of Snape's virtues (or lack of them: but give me a sec) he won't somehow earn the right to be in a romantic pairing with Lily. In all the stuff on the table in terms of how Lily viewed Snape, she wanted a platonic relationship. So that's part of what I have an issue with: talking about canon as if there was any part of romantic thing on the table. Lily never had a crush on Snape. It was a one-sided thing.

Now, to controversy. Let's address some common reasons for why people say Lily shouldn't have ditched Snape and why these shouldn't excuse his behavior. Keep in mind I'm talking about things that happened before Lily's death, because after death doesn't really matter to her. She's dead by then.

Snape had a bad home/school life.

That's true. But he then chose to continue the cycle of pain by joining a pureblood supremacist group and calling fellow students slurs?

2. The Marauders did some terrible stuff to him.

I really need a disclaimer here. THIS WAS TERRIBLE, AND I HATED IT, AND THE MARAUDERS WERE COMPLETELY IN THE WRONG HERE.

But this post isn't defending the Marauders, it's arguing that Lily was justified in choosing to let go of their friendship.

Anyway, this is an irrelevant excuse for why Lily should remain friends with him, because she thought this was terrible too... and then Severus screamed a slur at her when she was trying to help him. Way to go, Snape.

3. He loved Lily.

Hold up. Stop the clock.

Wut.

Okay, this needs to be a new section. Let's call it:

Being In Love With Someone Doesn't Excuse Your Actions Towards Them

Quick story time, cause this section uses an extensive metaphor. IRL, I used to be best friends with this girl. She was toxic and refused to change.

Her excuses for why I should keep hanging out with her?

Current mental health situation.

Things just "slipped out". (Yeah, Snape LITERALLY USED THIS EXACT EXCUSE)

I was really important to her (So was Lily to Snape)

I stopped being friends with this girl regardless, because her actions harmed my mental health, isolated me, etc.

(And before someone says friendship is different etc. she had a crush on me two Valentine's days in a row and I'm unsure if she still does)

These are all excuses. Let's define that word for a second.

"attempt to lessen the blame attaching to (a fault or offense); seek to defend or justify." -Oxford Languages from Google.

Contrast with an apology, where someone actually tries to make things better. Snape constantly gives excuses. His apology comes much, much too late in the form of begging Lily. Now, with my own toxic friend, she also claimed to want to make things better.

In the case of both Snape and Toxic Friend, they'd continually insisted it wasn't their fault, ignoring the problems in the relationship and not making an effort to fix them. By the time Lily and I broke things off, we'd made up our minds. We turned away and felt good about it, because they negatively impacted our lives.

Maybe Snape was in love. Maybe my friend really wanted to be friends with me. Both are probable.

Still, neither followed through on the steps necessary for a good friendship.

Depersonification, aka Lily is a Person Not A Shiny Toy, Severus

Crack open your books, hit play on the movie, or simply recall as we all remember how Snape looked at Lily.

In the books (won't mention the movies because I didn't watch them) he looks at Lily and Harry sees "undisguised greed" in his eyes. Um...

Snape's fine with hurting Petunia, figuratively and literally.

He ignores what Lily is actually trying to say to him once she tells him what he wants to hear.

And calling her Mudblood. (Can't help myself interrupting here: I myself never 'just accidentally' call someone a racial slur. That's because I don't use them, so they aren't exactly waiting on the tip of my tongue).

All of the things he does are in there for a reason. JK Rowling is trying to unsettle us, and she succeeded. Snape seems to view Lily as an accomplishment, an achievement, a plaything to be admired.

Why?

He never takes Lily's feelings into consideration. Not once until it negatively impacts him. Look at where he comforts Lily: when it looks like they've made a mistake and hurt Petunia.

When Lily gives up on him.

And I know: there was more, there was more, there was more.

Potions homework done together.

Eager chatter between classes.

It's not black and white.

But these are the scenes JK Rowling has decided will give you the best impression of their friendship. She didn't pick tender scenes with cocoa and cookies because that isn't a theme in this friendship.

And onwards to:

They Used To Be Friends, Why Did Lily Stop Talking To Him Like This

It's hard to know what a person is truly like. You only know what people show you, and they hold back the worst of themselves at first. In Lily's first scenes, she doesn't know everything. She doesn't see the greedy looks he gives her. He is a new boy about her age who understands her like nobody else in town could.

Years go by. He calls people like her "Mudblood", he makes friends with awful classmates who do illegal and immoral things and are rumored to be training for war. The other side of the war, the one that kills people.

He shows her the worse sides.

By the time he calls her Mudblood, she has already tried to stop him from going down the wrong path. He's ignored her and ignored her and she finally snaps.

Can you blame her?

This apology seems like yet another excuse, a means to an end of keeping her by his side.

She's had enough.

Conclusion

So concludes the saga of Lily and Severus.

As he makes his decisions and she hers, Lily perishes saving a son whom Snape will later torment in her classes.

Harry grows up.

Snape oversees the creation of a school designed for indoctrination, watching passively as cruciatus curses are dished out. Her son meets him on the battlefield.

Voldemort gets to Snape first.

And thus, Snape meets his end.

And that's it, because things work out like that sometimes. Snape chose his path in life. Lily responded accordingly. And years later, he continued to stay stagnant in character growth, even becoming a child's worst fear from his unequally distributed cruelty.

A note:

If you disagree, feel free to debate me! I enjoy calm discussions. HOWEVER, please remember that we are all, in the end, people with lives and feelings, so don’t scream at me if you don’t agree with what I’ve said here.

#anti severus snape #long post #rant post #toxic relationship #don’t hate me #anti snily

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