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mynamesaplant · 5 months

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Forgiveness is Electric

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Just a little short story about @critterbitter's hc of Emmet, Ingo, and Elesa. This is between the Volume Control and Volume Control (Reprise). Just a tiny change, Emmet caught Tynamo bc I sort of forgot when he did... My bad. Please go take a look at Critter's work, it is beautiful in every sense of the word.

I lied about posting to AO3 last time with Yearning for Wood Floors, but I will update that soon along with this one.

Enjoy!~

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“I do not think she will like those.”

“Who doesn’t love sweets?”

Ingo argued, plucking a box of Snom-Caps and turning it over and over in his hands. He contemplated the choices of candy in the aisle, the teenage clerk puffing their long, purple-streaked hair from their eyes behind the counter as the two children agonized over their decision. The clerk, Dakota, saw Ingo and Emmet in here all the time, the former had something of a sweet tooth and the latter… Well, whatever the opposite of a sweet tooth was, that was Emmet. The kid just loved sour things.

It wasn’t unusual to see them, but it didn’t usually take this long for them to make their selection. They had been there for nearly fifteen minutes, painstakingly reading each and every label and discussing them in hushed undertones. That was unusual by itself. Ingo was not known for his volume control.

Although unusual, they weren’t worried about them doing anything shady like stealing or being careless and knock things off the shelf. Might as well let them go about their business. To pass the time, they watched the fretful newly acquired Tynamo circle around them faster and faster until Emmet snatched the Pokémon deftly from the air and soothingly stroked its back.

“I am Emmet. We do not know what she likes.”

“We must do something! I just feel so dreadful.”

Emmet could see Ingo working himself up over this, just as he had a few hours ago, and Emmet placed a reassuring hand on his brother’s arm. His smile and eyes softened as his twin turned to him, Ingo’s eyes glittering with emotion and whatever proclamation dying on the back of his tongue.

He hadn’t meant it. He really hadn’t. He always got too loud when he was excited.

It had just backfired on him horribly.

Ingo cringed even now as he remembered the tears in her eyes, her hands slapped over her ears, and eyes huge with confusion and pain. She had run off before he could even apologize, and that knowledge was eating him alive all day.

Candy wouldn’t fix this. In his heart of hearts, he knew that, and maybe he had come here to grab himself some of his favorite snacks to ease the pain of losing a potential friend.

It was hard for them to understand others. Emmet and Ingo were so in-sync with each other that everyone seemed to be moving so much slower by comparison. It was like playing charades with someone who was underwater, the twins made perfect sense to one another, but it was unclear to everyone else.

This was not new to them, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating.

With their moms being busy with work and their uncle who didn’t have much interest with them most times, Emmet and Ingo came to rely on each other almost exclusively. Drayden would give them a little bit of pocket change, but never much. They had to be ultraconservative with what he gave them and had taken it upon themselves to run around Anville Town to take little odd jobs.

Leaves to rake? Oran berries to pick? Snow to shovel?

Emmet and Ingo did it all and saved what they could. They barely scraped together the money to purchase the Pokéballs needed to catch Tynamo and for additional balls to try and catch Ingo a starter.

Even though they knew everyone, they weren’t really close to anyone in town.

That could have been different if Ingo hadn’t ruined everything!

“Perhaps sweets are not the solution…”

Ingo finally admitted, setting the box down and rising to his feet. Readjusting his cap on his head and dusting off his knees to unconsciously tidy his appearance, Ingo’s frown deepened in thought. Even if he and Emmet apologized to her, Miss Elesa would not understand them. Drat! If only he had remembered her hearing aids, he had completely forgotten them tucked behind her black hair.

Emmet watched his face scrunch up, clearly having a long inner dialogue with himself where he alternatively berated himself and told himself that there was no crying over spilled milk. Gray eyes scanning the shelf, he took a bag of sour gummy-Bewear for himself, and chocolate covered pretzels for his brother, before hauling them to the counter where Dakota waited.

Tynamo drifted just below his elbow, still quite nervous around new people and often retreating to its ball when too anxious. Emmet’s soft encouragement was the only thing keeping the EleFish out while Dakota rang up both bags.

“Tynamo? Good for you, kiddo. I hear they’re not easy to catch.”

They rested their elbows on the counter, chin resting atop with a kind smile to the quieter twin. Dakota could see him beaming with pride, but he merely nodded, shuffling on the spot while he fished in the pocket of his overalls for some money. His Tynamo, like its trainer, seemed a little bashful at their words, and retreated into its ball.

“200… I think you brother is comatose over there.”

Dakota said not unkindly. Emmet jerked his head to where his brother stood motionless in front of the candy.

“Ingo!”

It was Ingo’s turn to jerk out of his, as Dakota had put it, “comatose state”. He trotted over to his side, staring at the bags of candies with confusion before it all seemed to click into place.

“You did not have to spend your pocket money on me.”

Emmet’s smile softened at the bashful note in his sibling’s voice. He wanted to. Ingo was feeling down, his twin often overthinking problems and burning himself out in the process. Emmet liked to take a step back to listen and reflect on people and conversations. A little break would do Ingo some good, so he insisted on the treats.

“I am Emmet. I wanted to. Yup!”

While Dakota bagged their treats in a small brown paper bag, they couldn’t help but lean over the counter to examine them. Although many people didn’t understand the secret code that the twins exchanged between glances, mouth twitches, and hand movements, Dakota could tell something was awry. Withholding the bag, they leaned over the counter with a faintly curious expression and a light tone.

“You guys alright?”

Unsurprisingly, the two exchanged looks, and a wordless conversation was held between them while Dakota waited. It was Ingo who swiveled his head back to face them, his face knit into a calculating grimace that seemed a little less friendly than usual, but only marginally.

“Yes,” he said slowly, eyes not breaking with the clerk, but they could see him shifting uncomfortably. “Emmet and I are attempting to right a wrong. However, we are encountering several roadblocks.”

There is a pause. Dakota still held the bag just out of reach as they gnawed on their lower lip. This wasn’t really their business, and they weren’t the type to stick their nose in where it didn’t belong… They thought of Drayden, who spent a lot of time in Opelucid and not watching his nephews – he barely spent any time with them.

They’re just kids.

“Do you need some help? It’s my job to help customers in the store y’know.”

Another pause. Another exchange of glances.

“I-” Ingo tries to being, already hard pressed to say anything and even less so when his sibling elbowed him in the ribs and shot him a look. He wouldn’t be allowed to take all the blame. “We upset one of our classmates with our carelessness. We think she was attempting to befriend us, but- uh… there were a few errors on our part.”

“And you’re trying to get candy for her to forgive you?”

“We thought about it, but it grew too complicated. We do not know what candy she likes, but more importantly, we do not think it’s a suitable apology.”

The clerk nodded, tapping the counter in thought as they tried to piece together some genuine advice for the boys.

“I think it’s a nice peace offering, but I think an apology would be better.”

“We broke her hearing aids… Yep…”

Emmet croaked suddenly, shrinking back in shame at the same time that Ingo grabbed the brim of his hat to tug it lower over his eyes.

“Ah,” Dakota hummed, tapping the counter even faster. They meant the new family that moved in from Sinnoh. They remembered their dads talking about the new signs that had to go all over town for the girl’s safety. Dakota couldn’t remember her name. “How did you break them?” They asked, already knowing the answer.

“Volume control.”

Ingo cringed, remembering his uncle’s warning about his naturally loud voice. Inside voice, Drayden had been emphasizing, and Ingo was trying to take those words to heart, but it was difficult. Since Ingo’s face didn’t emote well, he relied on his voice and his movement to articulate his emotions to others. They nod sympathetically.

“You didn’t see them?”

“No…”

The boy was squirming now, his shame and embarrassment with the situation reaching an all-time high. He felt Emmet moving to his side, reassuringly pressing against his arm, and resting his head on his twin’s shoulder. A flood of comfort helped Ingo release a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.

Behind the counter, the clerk was rummaging through something – although tall for their age, Emmet and Ingo couldn’t see what they were doing. They heaved a box onto the counter, tipping it so the contents spilled out for them to see, and the boys were confused.

“Headphones?”

Emmet leaned forward on his tiptoes to look at the colorful array of boxes that ranged from normal headphones to ones that had Pikachu and Eevee ears topping them.

“Yeah, uh, maybe if she wears these, you’ll remember right away that she has headphones in.”

It was a half-baked idea. In truth, Dakota felt a bit sheepish about it now that the idea was out of their head, but when they looked up, the boys were beaming – well, Emmet beamed. Ingo reminded of them of their friend’s Purrloin in a way they couldn’t quite put their finger on.

“Bravo! What a marvelous suggestion!”

Ingo practically cheered, stepping beside Emmet to look through the headphones. It was probably going to cost them a bit from the tags on the boxes, but it would be worth it. The headphones would immediately remind Ingo that she had hearing aids in so he would be more inclined to get Miss Elesa’s attention in a different fashion, but it also might do the same for others who were unaware of her deafness.

“Sure – er, thank you…” Dakota was looking at the prices now and mentally smacked their forehead. They probably couldn’t afford the headphones. “I’ll-” They hesitate. It almost pained them to say what they were going to next. “I’ll pay for them so you can take them to her now.” The twins’ eyes went wide, both about to protest when Dakota interrupted, “In exchange, you can do a few chores for me at my place. I need to do some yardwork, but it always gives me hay fever. Sound like a deal?”

The answer was easy for them. Dakota told them to pick ones that they thought Miss Elesa would like.

“I think these ones are quite dashing.”

Ingo said, picking up the box with the Pikachu ears. Emmet pursed his lips and shook his head.

“Nope. Too big. Not a gamer girl.”

They continued to rummage through the boxes. They agreed that she must like Electric types. She had a Blitzle as her partner after all.

“I cannot recall, she is from Hoenn, correct?”

Emmet shrugged, unsure himself because they had both been looking through a magazine with an expose on the newest train lines running out of Nimbasa when she had been introduced. That just meant to them that, when the time came, going on their Pokémon journey by rail would be all the easier.

“Not sure.” He looked at the box Ingo had in his hand and his smile broadened, nodding in agreement to his brother’s unasked query. The perfect balance of subtle but stylish. “I am Emmet. Those are perfect.”

Plusle and Minun headphones.

#pokemon #submas #fan fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fic #sorry critter #i started writing about Tynamo before i remembered he probably didn't have it by that point #im just gonna say newly acquired and cross my fingers #tynamo is shy #nobody knows about it #🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞

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planet-dusk · 1 year

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been thinking about perv! titty obsessed seungmin all day

any time he's around you his eyes are always trained on your breasts, constantly chewing on his lip to keep his head as clear as possible. but he can't help but imagine what the flesh would feel like in his huge hands. he almost drools at the idea of you allowing him to simply kiss them. seungmin would do anything to use his mouth to play with your nipples. he'd do anything to mark them up as well, covering them in bite marks and saliva.

he cums so hard at these thoughts, messy, sweaty, and the slightest twinge of shame running through him afterwards aghh > <

🏷️ perversion, dubcon n threesome fantasies

if he didn't know any better, seungmin would think you're doing it on purpose. wearing those flimsy shirts with nothing underneath just to tease him whenever he comes over. he swears he's there to visit his friend, your roommate, but your pebbled nipples poking through the fabric are begging for his attention.

how does minho live with you and not keep you bend over the nearest surface all the time? seungmin feels his pants tighten just from thinking about your pretty tits in his mouth. he wants to play with them for hours. grope them, bite them, flick and pinch your nipples with his fingers to make you moan. lavish the swollen buds with his tongue until you're dripping for him.

you'd sound so pretty, cute little whimpers and soft gasps of his name, not wanting your roommate to hear how desperate you get just from having your tits played with. seungmin would only bite harder, ignoring your weak protest, "minnie, stop, what if minho hears —"

why would you care? worried he'd come in and see you like this? your nipples all raw and swollen, skin splotchy and covered in saliva. or would you be worried about what seungmin would do, turning you around in his lap and spreading your legs to show how soaked your panties are. how bad you want this. a quiet invitation for minho to sink to his knees between your thighs and run his fingers over your clothed slit, tugging the fabric aside and parting your folds with his tongue, sucking on your clit while seungmin turns his attention back to your neglected nipples.

he wishes it was your fist around his cock instead of his own, wringing another pathetic orgasm from the depths of his perverted fantasies. if only you knew how hard they'd make you cum; chest heaving and pussy already swollen when minho pushes his cock inside, your head lolling back against seungmin's shoulder with every thrust. his hands unrelenting, squeezing your tits and tugging at your nipples, minho's teeth sinking into the soft flesh before blowing cold air over the tender skin.

ropes of sticky cum land on seungmin's shirt, the image of you covered in their marks and cum slowly bleeding into sticky shame as his cock grows hard in his fist again.

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soapsbaby · 8 months

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Friends with Benefits

Kinktober IV

Summary: How a friends with benefits relationship would go with them. Characters: Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” Mactavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, John Price, König, Alejandro Vargas, Rudy Vargas, Valeria Garza, all x gn!reader Rating: NSFW (mdni) Word Count: 1200ish

Ghost

In the beginning it was a lot more “benefits” than it was “friends”. He had a lot of issues to let you in any further than just sleeping with you.

You were an outlet for frustration and he was entirely honest about that and made sure you didn't feel used or led on.

It took a while but eventually you were able to spend the night, he started calling you when he needed company and eventually he even opened up to you a little and you finally got to understand why he acts the way he does.

He’s a very attentive lover and now that he has a closer bond with you, also an incredible friend. He is always there to listen, even if he often doesn’t know what advice to give you.

Often calls you over late at night or right after returning from missions, just needing a way to blow off steam. He tends to be a little rough with you, but only with your consent.

He isn’t interested in any relationship or attachments so he is quite happy with your arrangement.

Soap

You and Johnny had been friends for super long before you eventually got closer to him. It was just supposed to be a sleepover so you could binge some horror movies together, but at some point his hand had ended up on your thighs, then you had ended up in his lap and the moment you started kissing you both knew it was over.

Except for having sex not much has changed between the two of you, most of your hookups still happen during movie nights or other friendship hangouts that you would have had before starting to sleep together.

It’s becoming a problem when people start asking questions since neither of you pay any attention to the movies you’re supposed to be watching. “Oh, you watched (...) on the weekend, right?? How was it?” “Uh… Good… I think.”

You are so casual and comfortable with each other that there was never really a phase of awkwardness between you two, it just felt natural.

He honestly doesn't care if anyone finds out, is the type to pull you into a supply closet for a quickie.

Price

You are both very happy with the arrangement, even though except for missing full commitment you are basically in a relationship.

He will always make sure you know you are taken care of and that you know how much he appreciates you, take you out for dinner or cook for you, get you gifts.

Compared to the others, your relationship is a little more mature and less impulsive, you had been friends for a long while, tried to date but didn’t quite work out. Still, you both had to admit you enjoyed having sex with one another, so you just decided to go back to that part.

He’ll check in with you often to make sure you are still happy with the situation and it is understood that if either of you ever find a serious relationship you’ll have to stop.

He likes to make sure he has his time with you, whenever you have a "date" he wants to have the whole day off.

Gaz

It was supposed to be just a friends with benefits situation but failed almost immediately. You both tried so hard to keep it casual but it was a lost cause from the first time.

Gaz used to have hookups quite often when off duty, but now that he has you, he doesn’t really want or need that anymore. He doesn’t want to admit it to himself, let alone you, but he’s kind of obsessed with you.

At this point you are spending so much time at each other’s places that you might as well move in, but both of you are afraid to suggest taking the next step because that is not what we agreed on.

He is so sweet, always taking his time with you, making sure you are the priority and that you feel well taken care of.

So good at giving oral.

König

You’re one of the few people from his past that he is still in contact with and though you don’t get to see him often, it’s a good time whenever you do.

It’s good for him to have someone from his childhood that can give him a reality check and make sure he doesn’t forget where he came from when he needs it.

He isn’t the best at communicating, which your situation requires a lot of, so you run into problems at times. You don’t see each other often, most of the time there is a lot of distance dividing you, plus the time zones, so there is a lot to be navigated.

He likes and appreciates you a lot though, so you make it work somehow.

Most of the time he is super gentle with you and will do whatever it takes to make sure you finish first, however there have been situations where he just needed to use you to get some negative emotions out of his system after a failed mission.

Alejandro

He always said he wasn’t one for casual sex, that he was made for relationships, but he had to learn that that just isn’t fully true. Once you and him started sleeping together he had to realize how convenient it was to have someone to help him have his needs met without the responsibilities that come with actual relationships.

He’s a great lover, extremely attentive, very loving, and skillful at what he does. He’d never be selfish and only get himself off.

Rudy

You have been friends with benefits for as long as you can remember, so the communication between the two of you is great since you just know each other so well.

It started when you were joking around with him after a bad date how dating around wasn't worth it just to have mediocre sex with people you barey liked and he got competetive about it.

"Bet I could do better." (He in fact could and did do better)

You don’t sleep with each other that often, just once every few months when you both feel like it. Most of the time when you hang out, things stay strictly platonic, that is just the way things work out for you.

Valeria

She doesn’t have many friends that she can actually trust, so she was terrified to push your relationship any further than a friendship. She didn’t want to risk losing you, one of the few people who knew her before the army, before the cartel.

Still, one thing led to another and she’d never want to go back to before. She knows you might not fully support her work in the cartel, but that you still feel nothing but loyalty for her.

She doesn’t have time for an actual relationship and also wouldn’t want to put someone in danger of getting caught up in the crossfire of cartel dealings, so you being fairly low-commitment for her is ideal.

She can be a bit of a selfish lover, but you adore pleasuring her, so it all works out in the end.

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ao3-crack · 1 year

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(x)

#archive of our own #ao3 quotes #ao3 stuff #archive of our own quotes #fanfic #fanfic quotes #funny #ao3 #ao3 notes #me literally nineteen hours ago:#yeah sorry to disssapoint but I just don’t see myself ever writing teen wolf fic #me now:#*insert clown music here*#me writing any fic #I try to tell myself I have too many wips #but noooo #I have to start another one

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ricciardosgirl · 6 months

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farleigh smut short

one shot.

something about farleigh's jealousy and cocky attitude is just getting to me. i could imagine you and felix slowly becoming friends whilst dating farleigh , and felix starts to become a bit too touchy. first - it started with pats on the shoulder and back , then hugs lingering for too long . .

farleigh catches felix in the act , holding a hug for longer than he's supposed to as a friend , farleigh bites his lip in anger.

you didn't see him till later that night , he was being so petty. barely speaking , focusing on his homework instead of you ( not his typical behavior. )

you pry and pry until farleigh finally tells you that he doesn't like the way felix is touching you . . and he reminds you of how felix could never make you feel as good as he could.

he'd start by teasing you , barely touching you and giving you what you truly desire - he makes you admit that felix would never make you feel even half as good.

farleigh would then get to work , pampering you and making you feel as good as possible. he'd start by eating you ( or sucking you off ) off. slowly and methodically pacing himself to make you beg him for more.

once he's satisfied he makes you worship his cock. " that's it baby , tell me how much you love my cock. " he'd coo. pushing your head down all the way down to the bottom of his shaft.

once he's pleased he'd turn you around and fuck into you mercilessly , making you scream right then and there. he wouldn't stop until three or four orgasms on both of your ends.

afterwards , he'd apologize for getting so jealous , telling you that he knows that you wouldn't cheat on him. you both cuddle for awhile , farleigh thinking of all the ways he could tell felix off later on . . but for now , he enjoys you.

#saltburn #farleigh start #fanfic #writing #archie madekwe #i'm so normal about him #i love him #he's so hot i'm sorry #smut #EEEE

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c-optimistic · 10 months

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Hey, i saw you tagged something with "#Kara has been okay with dying for a very long time#makes me wanna write about it" and I just thought I'd pop in to say that if you write about it I would love to read it :D

The Phantoms lie.

She knows this, she knows this. But the truth is, the Phantoms do more than just lie.

They twist memories, create waking nightmares, force you to relive the most painful things your own mind can conjure up.

(And Kara’s mind is a dark place.)

She can distinguish it at first, what’s real and what’s not real. There’s a lot giving away the fake memories, the implanted thoughts. Little details that give Kara enough distance from what she’s seeing to recognize it’s not real.

Things like cruel smirks on Alex’s lips that she never wore in reality.

Things like J’onn’s distrustful eyes following her, like Nia’s disgust when she appears, like Brainy’s disappointed shake of his head when she takes another step.

But then, she loses focus. She loses her grip on reality. Because she sees Lena’s tearstained face, hears her blaming Kara for lies and betrayal and loss and...it’s all true. It’s true, and she finds she can’t tell the difference between the Phantoms’ lies and her own bitter memories.

(She takes another step, needing to keep moving, needing to find a way out, needing to get home.

The lies, the memories, and the hurt all follow.)

It’s cold in the Phantom Zone. Cold, dark, and utterly silent. There’s nothing but the sound of her boots against gravelly soil, chattering teeth, and guilt and blame ringing in her ears, the voices of her friends and family shouting at her, not wanting her, hating her.

(The Phantoms lie. She knows this.

She has to know this.)

There are no signs of passing days. There’s no rising and setting sun, no waxing or waning moons, no indication that time passes at all. At first, she tries to count, to create her own sense of time, using the numbers to block out the voices and the visions, but she loses track, loses focus, watches everyone she loves die and wishes she died with them.

(The Phantoms lie.

She thinks she knows this.)

Kara takes another step. And another.

(It’s painfully cold. Her thoughts make her feel colder.)

A step. She has to keep moving, even if she’s unsure where she’s going. Why is she still going?

(The Phantoms lie.

But lies with a foundation of truth are always easier to believe.)

Kara stops, surrounded by images of all her dead loved ones, and she drops to her knees to join them.

///

When she wakes, she’s in a small cave-like structure, a glow emanating from a fire that gives off no heat.

And the man who has rescued her, the man in the robes and defeated eyes, is her father.

When he notices she’s awake, he’s careful to shift, appear as non-threatening as possible, smiling benignly at her. And Kara just lays there, staring, wondering if she’s dead or if this is just yet another ghost sent to haunt her.

“Kara,” he says finally, breaking the silence, his voice cracked from disuse, tongue clearly not practiced with the single word he utters.

“I’m dead,” Kara guesses, sitting up, watching the robed man who has taken the guise of her father carefully. “Right?”

“No, you are not dead.”

“But you’re not him,” she says, not really accusatory, just stating a fact. He looks at her sadly, like she’s hurting him.

“I am Zor El,” he says, almost like he believes it. “I am husband to Alura. Brother to Jor El. And most importantly, father to Kara Zor El.”

Kara gets to her feet shakily, stepping as far back from him as she can, back pressed against the cave walls. “No, stop. Zor El is dead. He died. He put me in a pod, alone, and sent me off, and he stayed to die with Krypton.”

Like I should have, she doesn’t say. I should have died too.

“You’re not real,” she tells him, meeting his gaze defiantly. The robed man, the man who calls himself Zor El, the stranger, lets out a sigh and hangs his head.

“The Phantoms lie, Kara,” he tells her quietly. “You know this.”

///

They begin their journey. Her hallucination tells her there’s some sort of outpost. A place she can perhaps send out a message, they merely need to get to it. He tells her he will go with her.

He tells her to be strong.

(And she wonders if this ghost knows what she’s thinking, if he can look into her mind and read those dark thoughts she can’t seem to shake.

Because even as she takes step after arduous step, she is focused on a singular notion: perhaps the universe would be better off with her dead. Perhaps fighting had no use at all.

Perhaps, in those endless days, dark and cold and alone in her pod, aimlessly floating through the vast expanse of space, she should have given up. Perhaps it would have been better.)

Ghost-Zor El doesn’t touch her, but she feels his heavy gaze on her, and she turns to him.

“The Phantoms lie, Kara,” he reminds her, giving her a smile that brings back memories of her father, of sitting in his lab and learning more about his work, of listening to his stories, of watching him when he wasn’t paying attention. “You should know this.”

///

Stay warm, he tells her. Find shelter, he reminds her. Conserve your energy, he advises her.

Rest, he says, rest and keep fighting to get home—back to those you love.

She doesn’t ask him how he knows she has loved ones, people she desperately wants to get back to. She merely listens without complaint, obeying thoughtlessly to his suggestions, and lets her mind go blank.

“Are you real?” she asks him after what feels like several days, but could have been weeks or months or years.

Her hallucination never comes too close to her, but he smiles her father’s smiles and that’s enough for her. “The Phantoms lie, Kara,” he says softly, his voice lulling her to sleep. “Don’t forget this.”

///

Everything aches. Each step takes energy she just doesn’t have. It’s as though all the weight she’s always carried, all the grief and pain and regret, has finally become too much, sapping her of everything she has left.

She buckles under the burden, but before she can fall, she feels a strong grip around her arm, dragging her up back to her feet.

“You must keep going,” her father’s ghost tells her, his eyes sad, no warmth from where his fingers are closed around her arm. “This is not where you fall.”

“But it can be,” Kara murmurs hopelessly. And it occurs to her, she’s not quite sure what she’s still fighting for.

A sister who she overshadowed and whose family she ripped apart? Friends who were terrified of her and what was capable of? And Lena—Lena, who Kara has loved from the day they met, but who she has hurt so completely that the CEO will never be the same?

(Kara has been okay with dying for a long time. Okay with dying in her pod. Okay with dying to save Earth. Okay with dying to protect those she loves.

And here now, she’s okay with dying with her father’s ghost—finally, finally joining him.)

“The Phantoms lie, Kara,” the fake Zor El says firmly, forcing her to take another step. “You must remember this. The Phantoms lie, and you must live.”

She stares up at him blankly, and obeys. She takes one step. Then another.

Another.

And on and on.

She keeps going.

///

Time passes. She’s not sure how much. But her apparition father no longer walks a distance away from her. Instead, he practically holds her up as they keep going, his repeated promises than she can do this all she can really hear.

“I wish…” Kara manages weakly. “I wish you were real.”

Her ghost father chuckles, clearly hearing what she can’t say. (I wish I were with you. I wish I wasn’t alone. I wish, I wish.) “Ah, but I am real. I’m the best parts of you, daughter,” he says. “Resilience, strength, commitment…hope.” He says the last word with some force, as if needing her to understand. “You are good. You are kind. And you try, more than anything you try.”

“The Phantoms lie,” she reminds him quietly. He laughs again.

“Yes, but I am no Phantom.”

And they keep walking.

///

“I have hurt so many,” she says, half carried by the fake Zor El. “I cause nothing but damage and pain. Why would they even want me back? Lena especially?”

“I don’t believe love is as simple as you make it seem, Kara,” the fake Zor El says. Another step. And another. And on and on.

“Love? She hates me. I ruined her life. I lied. I betrayed her.”

“Sometimes we stumble,” the fake Zor El said gently. “Sometimes we fail. But as long as we learn, as long as we get up and try to do better, there is always hope.”

A step. And another. And on and on.

“I do, you know. Love her,” she adds when her fake father seems confused.

He smiles brightly at her, and it’s nice. Even though he’s not real. Even though she’s only partially sure she’s not dead and this isn’t all in her head, even though he’s at best a hallucination and at worst a trick of the Phantoms, it’s nice. Because she’d never thought she’d have the opportunity to tell her father about the woman she has fallen for—the scientist like him, the innovator like him. The woman who made her feel more at home, more like herself, than anyone else.

“Hold onto that love, Kara,” he says, helping her take another step. “If there’s one thing the Phantoms cannot destroy, it is your love.”

She nods, though she doesn’t quite understand. And they keep going.

///

She knows she’s reaching her limit physically. There’s only so much even she can endure. Between the cold, the bone deep weariness, the ache settling in her chest, and the energy sapped from her very being, she’s running on no more than fumes.

She tells herself it’s just one more step. Just one more.

Just.

One.

…more.

“Father, are you—” She stops.

She’s completely alone. The ghost is gone.

Kara trembles, choking not only on the dusty, frozen air, but on her despair. All she wants, all she wants is to stop.

To fall to the gravelly dirt.

To curl up.

To give up…

“Kara!”

(She falls to her knees. The Phantoms lie, she thinks. But what a mercy, what a kindness, she’s going to die with her name on Lena’s lips.)

“Kara! Brainy, we found her. Alex, you’d best come quick.”

(The words make no sense. The Phantoms lie. They lie. They lie, lie, lie.

She looks up, and an angel stands before her. Lena, with wide, desperate eyes. Lena, with hair in a messy ponytail. Lena, in dusty, dirty clothes.

Oh, she’s a sight. She’s an angel. She’s everything.)

“Kara? Kara, we’re here. We’re going to take you home.”

(The Phantoms…have never lied like this.)

“Lena?” Kara manages shakily, unsure if she’s dreaming, hallucinating, dead even. “Are you real?”

Lena doesn’t answer, instead she rushes forward, falls to her knees too, and pulls Kara into a hug. She envelopes Kara in her scent—sweet and flowery—envelopes Kara in her warmth. Her heartbeat is strong against Kara’s chest.

She’s so alive. So present. So very real.

“Lena, my father, he…” But she doesn’t finish what she wants to say. After days, months, weeks, years (she doesn’t know, she can’t tell) of being lost in the Phantom Zone, her body finally caves under the weight of everything she’s gone through.

And she lets go. Falls into Lena. Lets herself be supported. Her eyes close, she breathes in Lena’s scent, and she thinks, even if this is just a lie, just a dream, it’s a good one.

And she knows no more.

///

When she wakes, her first thought is that she’s still dreaming. That the Phantoms lie, and that their lies are growing more and more impressive.

She’s laying underneath a sun lamp, nestled comfortably in her own bedroom, wearing soft pajamas and enveloped in her favorite blankets. There’s gentle music playing from somewhere in the living room, but otherwise that’s all she hears.

(The silence is eerie, disconcerting. She’s unused to such quiet, always assaulted by thousands upon thousands of sounds each and every moment. What a blessing, she thinks wryly, that the Phantoms would lie to her this way—would give her this much peace after so much pain.

And she wonders if this is what dying feels like.)

“Kara,” says her angel suddenly, and Kara turns her head, noticing for the first time that there’s a chair set up next to her bed, that Lena is there, watching her. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”

“Am I dead?” Kara asks. Lena’s eyes widen but she shakes her head. “Are you…are you real? Is any of this real?”

Lena slowly reaches out, giving Kara every chance to say no, to pull away, and she takes Kara’s hand into her own, threading their fingers together.

(She’s warm. Soft. And her touch stirs something inside Kara.

It’s familiar. Hers. Something lost in the Phantom Zone.

Or at least, something she thought she had lost.)

“I’m real, Kara,” Lena says. “We all are. And we’re here for you okay?”

“You found me?” Kara asks, a single tear rolling down her cheek. “You came for me?”

“Always,” Lena swears.

(The Phantoms lied.

But love, love she thinks always tells the truth.)

#asks #butimaloneandfree #prompts #fanfic #supercorp #i started writing this ages ago #back when I thought the show would do something cool #unfortunately I don’t remember much of that season #soooo #sorry

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wreckedandpolemic · 4 months

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to my knees you do promote me - matty healy

prompt: queen of hearts

(mdni) day 6 and my final entry into valentine75! these were soo fun thank u vee @abiiors

warnings: sub!matty, oral (f and m receiving), unprotected sex

Your leather pants cling to you fluidly, like a second skin, matching gloves stretching up to your elbows. You pose dramatically, raking a hand through your hair and pressing your tongue against the inside of your cheek, savouring the way Matty’s gaze burns against your skin. He doesn’t know where to look, eyes darting wildly from the laces that cross over a strip of bare outer thigh; to your bare stomach, silver jewellery adorning your belly; to your tits, cradled in a black lace bralette with straps crossing your décolletage in a way that’s reminiscent of a harness.

“You like it?” you ask, smirking as he swallows thickly.

A charged, silent moment passes. “You can’t wear that,” he finally gets out, voice low and gravelly.

You take a deliberate step towards him, boots clacking on the wood floor, lips stretching in a predatory grin when he flinches. “Why not?” you pout, “Don’t I look hot?”

Matty’s answer comes embarrassingly quickly. “God, yes,” he groans, eyes lidded as his gaze sends heat flushing under your skin. “You can’t wear that, ‘cos I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.”

Laughing to yourself, you close the distance between you and sling your arms around his neck. Matty stiffens, a trembling breath ghosting over your lips. “Can’t control yourself, hm? Am I driving you crazy, baby?”

“Mhmm,” he murmurs. You can see him slipping, eyes glazing over, wide and needy.

You grin, sly and teasing, and reach down to palm his cock through his jeans. He whines softly, already melting in your hands, pliant and sugary-sweet under your touch. “Oh, baby,” you murmur, tone drenched in faux concern. “You need it, huh?” High spots of colour paint Matty’s cheeks and his eyes fall to the ground as he nods. “Words, baby,” you instruct.

“Want you,” he says, the confession coming out quiet and penitent. You press a kiss against the corner of his mouth in reward, his lips twitching in a pout as a silent plea for more. “Please,” he adds, anticipating the words balanced on the tip of your tongue.

Matty’s hips jerk involuntarily against your hand as you slip your hand into his boxers and squeeze lightly. “Such a good boy,” you coo, admiring him as your words pull him deeper into that soft, malleable state. Getting him like this is rare, and you usually don’t get a sign before it comes on; Matty has a tendency of bottling up his stress until the glass shatters under the pressure and he comes to you pleading to lose control. “How do you want me?” you ask, still stroking him gently. Matty shudders, cock drooling into your fist.

It’s not always like this, all whispered praise and reverent quiet — sometimes, Matty needs some coaxing to let go, pushing back against you defiantly until you can bend him enough to fall. “Want your mouth. Please.” He’s quiet but sure, and you smile indulgently at him.

He inhales sharply as you drop to your knees in front of him, nuzzling your cheek against his clothed cock. A whine falls from his lips, so pathetic that you almost feel guilty about the scant tease. You free his cock, kissing the flushed head, crooning praise as he fights to hold still. “My pretty boy,” you murmur, watching through your lashes as a flush spreads over his cheeks and he smiles shyly. “Such a pretty dick, too,” you add, stroking over him and relishing the way he moans and shivers under your touch.

You run your tongue along the length of Matty’s cock, the salt of him intoxicating in your mouth. Your name falls from his lips, rapturous, as you swallow him whole. His head lolls back, his moans a litany that has heat buzzing under your skin. There’s power in this, in reducing him to a needy, obedient mess; him who bends you over and fucks you until you’re crying, who fists a hand in your hair and whispers sweet cruelties in your ear, who tells you shut up and take it like a good girl.

Desire throbs sickly in your gut. You press a hand between your legs and grind down against it, moaning around Matty’s cock as it bumps the back of your throat. Pulling off, you lap at his tip, thin tendrils of pleasure curling up your spine as your hips roll against your hand. You go to take him in your mouth again but he stills you with a gentle hand.

With a question in your eyes, you look up at him. “Wanna get you off,” he says, eyes wide and glossy with desire.

You smile up at him, his face open and earnest as you stand to face him. You press your lips to his, swallowing his whine as he tastes himself on your tongue. His kiss is shy as he accepts whatever you give, controlled and ascetic. “Such a sweet boy.” You walk him to the bed, pulling him down on top of you without breaking the kiss.

Inhaling greedy lungfuls of his quiet moans and shuddering breaths, your hands slide to the laces of your pants and you start to untie them. Matty’s hands tremble as they come to cover yours, the knots coming loose under his touch in a way your body recognises. His eyes don’t leave yours as he makes his way down your body, his gaze sparking heat under your skin that drips down your spine and pools between your legs. You tangle a hand in his curls as he tugs your pants down just enough to fit himself between your thighs, his pained whine syrupy-sweet against your skin when you tug at them just slightly.

White spots dance across your vision as Matty’s lips connect with your skin, his tongue insistent and feverish over your clit. You moan softly, pleasure rolling over you in gentle waves; he takes the sound as an encouragement, redoubling his efforts with fervour. He’s losing himself in you, eyes fluttering shut as his tongue roves over your cunt, teasing your clit and then dipping inside you, back to your clit before you even feel the loss.

“Good boy,” you say, cunt clenching around Matty’s tongue as he fucks it into you in a gorgeous, deliriating rhythm. The praise has him reeling, his hips grinding down against the bed as he whimpers into your cunt. “I love you like this,” you murmur sweetly. “Don’t care about getting off, do you? Just wanna let me use you, hm? Making me feel so good, Matty. So fucking good,” you promise, carding your hands through his hair as he brings a hand up to you with your clit, a burst of pleasure buzzing up your spine when he rubs a skilled circle over your sensitive nerves.

“Wanna make you cum,” he whines, pleading, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal. The calloused pad of his finger brushes divinely against your clit, the scrape sending a thick pulse of heat winding around your organs. Your responding moan has Matty burying his tongue in your cunt, devouring you with a ferocity that sends ecstasy ricocheting through your body, your hands fisting in the sheets as you moan and writhe uncontrollably.

His hips grind down against the sheets brainlessly, his body chasing his pleasure while his mind is singularly focused on yours. Desire ramps up under your skin, setting you aflame. Blood pounds in your ears, your world tunnelling down to where Matty’s hands grip your thighs, where his fingers circle over your clit, where his tongue thrusts in and out of you in an earth-shattering rhythm. His nails bite into your tender, sweat-slick skin, the faint edge of pain tracing lovingly around the curves of your arousal.

“God Matty, fuck,” you whine. “Feels so fucking good. God, I love your fucking tongue. My good boy.” He doesn’t let up, practically dragging your hips down to fuck his tongue impossibly deeper into you, until your body can’t take it anymore. Your hands fist in his hair as your body catches alight, screaming his name as you soak his lips and chin. Euphoria pumps in your veins, your heart working in overdrive as it seeps into your organs. All the air leaves your lungs, pleasure choking you out, Matty’s tongue still working over your clit as your cunt clenches around nothing.

You come back to your senses and Matty’s eyes meet yours, pure adoration passing between you. Need is written openly on his face, underlined by his flushed, drooling cock hanging hard and heavy where he kneels between your legs. “Can— can I cum? Please?” he murmurs, hands hovering nervously over his stomach, his body a hard line of tension that hangs on your strings.

Slowly, you move around the bed, stripping out of what remains of your clothes and helping Matty out of his. You climb over him, resting your hands on his shoulders and pushing gently. “Lie back, baby. Let me take care of you, yeah?”

He nods obediently, letting himself fall against the pillows, his eyes glued to your slick, messy cunt as you lower yourself onto him. His name falls from your lips in a low moan, the stretch in your cunt familiarly divine, burning pleasure pulling at all of your limbs at once. “You feel so good,” Matty whimpers, hips bucking and striking that perfect spot inside you that sends ecstasy careening through your bloodstream. “I love it when you fuck me like this. So fucking pretty,” he moans.

You drive your hips down at a punishing pace, eyes rolling back in your head as your moans mingle with his in the air between you, thick with molten desire. Bracing your hands against Matty’s chest, you lean down to kiss him, swallowing his gasps as his hips meet yours, heat kissing up your spine. “Doing so good, baby,” you murmur, losing yourself in his eyes, so wide they look black, so liquid you could drown in them. “My good boy,” you promise, sitting up and clenching your cunt around him, his quiet whimper sweetly pathetic in your ears as you roll your hips.

Nails biting into your thighs, Matty’s breathing turns sharp, unsteady. His hips crash wildly against yours, delicious arrhythmia pounding between your bodies. Your head tips back and your mouth falls open in a gasp, sticky heat pooling low in your belly. “‘M so close,” Matty whimpers, eyes falling closed as he writhes powerlessly under you. “‘M gonna cum, can I cum, please, please, please.” He draws the words out, stretching them into a sweet, broken moan that squeezes around your heart before kicking fiercely in your cunt.

“Hang on for me, just for a minute, okay, baby?” His eyes go wide, fearful, and you press a finger to his lips to silence his protests. Pleasure arcs up your spine, sharp bursts following every movement of your hips. Gazing down at him, you catalogue every inch of his face, scrunching in effort of holding back. “Good boy,” you murmur, the vast chasm of ecstasy yawning beneath you threatening to swallow you whole. “You wanna cum?” Matty nods, his whole body trembling feverishly. “Then cum for me, baby.”

The moan he gives is enough to tip you over the edge, plummeting into ecstasy so deep you lose yourself in it, stomach twisting and head coming unglued from your body. Matty’s cock pulses gloriously inside you, pumping you full as your cunt clenches around him, euphoria flooding your limbs. You slump forward, pulling Matty with you as you roll onto your side and slinging a leg over his waist. “Thank you,” he mumbles into your neck, pressing soft kisses to the skin there.

You run your fingers through his curls gently, curling close and basking in the warmth of his body all around and inside you. “Such a good boy,” you murmur fondly, eyes slipping closed as you press a kiss to the top of his head. “My good boy.”

#starting this by describing reader's outfit feels a Little bit ebony dark'ness dementia raven way #but i feel like the vision was needed #also sorry for saying leather pants i promise im from the uk #trousers is just a deeply unsexy word #matty healy #matty healy smut #matty healy imagine #matty healy x reader #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #writing #smut #valentine75

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syrupsyche · 1 month

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If you're looking for a fic that has:

Marisette being a BAMF gothic couple

(short-lived) vampire!Enjolras and an angsty exR ending

Seward!Combeferre and Van Helsing!Prouvaire

the Power of Friendship

then you might enjoy my Dracula x Les Mis fic!! It's a gift fic for @/feathraly for the Discorinthe anniversary exchange and I had a ton of fun writing it, so do take a look if you think you'll have fun reading it too :D

#sorry for the abundance of doodles I have for this one fic #turns out when you spend two months working on a singular thing #all your misc. doodles start to just be about that thing #les mis #les mis fanfic #cosette #cosette fauchelevent #marius pontmercy #grantaire #enjolras #combeferre #jean prouvaire #syrup art tag #syrup writing

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datesinredink · 3 months

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Yan turtles (rottmnt) with an m/c that’s allergic to reptiles/turtles? Idk I just think it would be funny (not Donnie trying to get m/c into getting injections to help the allergy-)

ANON I AM SO SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BCIRBIFUNUIEH

Super duper sorry i ended up procrastinating really hard and i guess god took issue with that because he struck me down with multiple QAs and a Feelings crisis but the tests are over and I finally managed to sit down and finish Raph's part- seriously i struggled with him and mikey a lot but i guess it was kinda worth it in the end because Raph has an entire 110 more words to his part than the other three- hopefully it makes up for my lack of knowledge of his character. Enjoy!

Donnie

“My inspiration for this device was simplicity-”

Yeah you’re getting a hazmat suit until your allergies either magically disappear or he figures out some other solution

You’ll probably have to do a lot of tests, including possibly a blood draw but I’m no medical expert- since I headcanon Leo to be the medic he’ll probably end up helping too

After he finally puts the pieces together, he’ll start working with Leo to engineer a medicine to help suppress your allergic reaction, and maybe even be able to get rid of it entirely

Also anon you’re very right, you may be subjected to becoming the human pincushion of allergy shots while he figures it out. It’s safe. No it won’t kill you. Yes he made sure. Just, uh, maybe don’t ask your best friend their opinion on needles for a while….

In the meantime, he completely hates the current situation. He finally meets someone that he’s (mostly) fine with touching him, and they CAN’T TOUCH HIM without a HAZMAT SUIT. Just the worst. Awful times.

Normally, he’d have you around almost always, but, unfortunately, that’s currently not ideal.

Starts trying to keep things extra clean around the lair for you. Also everything that can be sanitized is sanitized. Good luck in the cleanliness prison after you get kidnapped later on.

The best about keeping distance, since he already wasn't super touchy before this whole situation. While he might tap you on the arm or something once or twice, it's nothing serious and you won't have a problem with him on that front.

Going back to the hazmat suit real quick, while it does do its job well, it's definitely not the most comfortable thing to wear, and you'll probably end up getting too hot pretty quick, so chances are you won't willingly be wearing it all too often. Donnie may occasionally force you to wear it, but otherwise you (usually) just... don't have to.

Leo

He’s the one who finds out you’re allergic. It was an accident he SWEARS. He only wanted to give you a pat on the arm when April first introduced you to them! How could he have known you’d get hives where he touched you?

At least he knows how to treat it. He managed to guide April through treating it, after which he sulked while rereading some Jupiter Jim comics.

Has a personal grudge against your immune system for daring to make you allergic to him. How dare your cells get mad about him.

When Donnie tells him that he might have “a fix, bro”, Leo jumps at the opportunity- oh thank god, he can finally hug you!

…Doesn’t mean he’s not super bad at focusing on actually working on it. Don’t worry, he’ll fix it eventually, just have a little patience.

Honestly, this is your chance to BOOK IT away from them, because none of them are as clingy as they will be after your allergies are cured/suppressed, which gives you more time to leave New York before things go from bad to worse.

Anyway, Leo’s about as clingy as he can be without physically clinging onto you for hours on end. Constantly hanging around you, like a ghost haunting their killer, except you’re not the one who kills people.

He might end up using your allergy to try and manipulate you away from his brothers. Mikey keeps forgetting to keep distance, Donnie’s suffocating and makes you wear a hazmat suit, and Raph almost treats you like a sopping wet cat that he has to take care of, so why not just stay with him?

As much as he likes to criticize Mikey for forgetting, sometimes, particularly early on, he gets a little too close, and your allergies flare up, and while he does genuinely feel kinda bad, he will exaggerate his remorse for sympathy from you. He genuinely does try and apologize for it later, and he probably portals you two somewhere nice and gets you a couple of trinkets you like or find useful.

Mikey

Absolutely heartbroken!

His love is allergic to him! This is awful!

2nd most panicked when they first find out. Is their new friend ok? Did they mess up?

If you have a low tolerance for pain/allergic reaction symptoms and cry a little he probably will too. High empathy, man…

He’s really understanding after everything’s resolved and they figure out you’re allergic to them. He tries his best to keep a fair amount of distance between you and him, but he tends to naturally be physically affectionate, so there may be a slight adjustment period. He really doesn’t mean harm though.

He occasionally tries to bring you something from the mystic city that he thinks would be safe- a small figurine, maybe a sketchbook if you also like doing art, if he manages to bargain for/steal a piece of jewelry, he’ll also give that to you.

As I mentioned before, Mikey’s pretty big on physical touch, but since that’s off limits (for now) he’ll try to show you affection in any other way he can think of

Mostly quality time. He likes to take you with him when he explores through the sewers/city to spraypaint a couple of blank walls, and he’ll probably get you to try it too, and regardless of your skill level he’ll tell you it’s great

After Donnie and Leo finish making the cure, Mikey squeezes the LIFE out of you- he doesn’t mean to practically strangle you, but he’s fairly strong and he got excited, so he does feel a little bad afterwards.

Will decorate the hazmat suit Donnie gave you if you let him. He'll put stickers on it that match his and draw fun patterns that may or may not relate to him in some way. Maybe the spots he has, or the face on his knee pads. It's pretty endearing, even if his brothers may occasionally glare at him. In Mikey's opinion, if they're really that jealous, they should add something themselves.

Raph

And the award for most paranoid goes to….

Ok but really, he’s the most overbearing about it. This probably isn’t a surprise, but it’s still something I've gotta mention.

You don’t really have to worry about Donnie making you wear the hazmat suit- he gets it, not a fun sensory experience- other than a couple stand-out occasions, but you will have to convince Raph fairly often that you’ll be fine without it.

To be fair, it’s partially because he also forgets not to touch you sometimes, and while he’s better about it than Mikey and most of the time Leo, he’s also self-aware and protective enough that he’d rather be safe than sorry.

If you’re having an allergic reaction, he’ll either get Leo/Donnie/April to help you, or go find the hazmat suit Donnie made him a while ago when Splinter got sick and then help you himself

There’s a chance he might not do great though, as he’s not always the best under pressure and tends to panic when the people he loves are hurt or in some sort of extreme situation, especially when it comes to you (seriously, he treats you like a porcelain doll), but you can be reassured that he’ll do his absolute best to make you safe and comfortable.

Feels terrible after, pampers you a lot after the ordeal. Every time, not just the first few.

If he wasn’t the one who caused it, then he’s definitely pissed at whichever of his brothers made your allergies flare up. He won’t kill them, and he won’t lose it and drop kick them into tomorrow (yet. If they ever intentionally trigger your allergies he might snap some bones) but there will be a noticeable irritation and tension for at least the next few weeks between him and them.

He’s super excited after Donnie and Leo finish the allergy shots! I personally headcanon him to be the second touchiest of the brothers (Mikey being the most touchy, of course) so there’ll be a lot more casual touch between you two after. Hugs, headpats, you get the idea. If you try to tell him to stop, he’ll be very upset, though doing his best to understand, he will try to respect your wishes.. Before going right back to it after a week tops. Sometimes he genuinely does forget, after all, he does have a fair amount on his plate, but sometimes he does intentionally wait until he thinks he can get away with it again before jumping right back to how things were before. He’ll vehemently deny it, but no matter what happens, you’ll likely never really get him to stop for an extended period of time.

#yandere rottmnt #yandere tmnt #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt leo #rottmnt raph #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #augh im so unhappy with raph and mikey's partsss #i shouldve known getting fixated on leo and donnie and forgetting about raph and mikey wouldve come back to bite me #<---- did not plan on writing fanfic when she started watching the show #sorry mikey and raph enjoyers i hope this was satisfactory #anyway i havent like #proofread this.#also none of my friends have ever watched rottmnt so im stuck with no one to check me on my characterization #pray for me

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wispscribbles · 7 months

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In light of MW3, I’d like to do a little self-indulgent self-promo and recommend my old fic Love comes with a Price. I just reread it myself and it hits different now

#then again everything hits differnet after mw3 #ghostsoap #soapghost #cod one shot #cod fanfiction #fic rec #mw3 spoilers #mwiii spoilers #not really but better safe than sorry to tag it #it used to just be a sort of fluffy oneshot #but if you read it as a canon compliant piece between mw2 and 3 then it is suddenly a tragedy #wild how new canon can change how I read my own stories #I guess that’s the risk with writing fanfic #sorry for not writing anything new and instead just bringing up my old stuff #the writers block is so real these days #the most annoying part is that I have so MANY ideas for fics but then I start writing and urrrgh

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mindlesscurtains · 1 month

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I like Jerbeth to some degree but. I can't stand the fandom either demonizing Jerry or Beth just to prove a point. Both of them are flawed, mentally unstable individuals, but they deserve love as well.

I genuinely believe that they should've stayed divorced though. Rick reentering Beth's live literally exacerbated Jerry and Beth's marriage problems also considering Beth's thinly veiled emotional abuse towards Jerry. I think them being separated would help them in the long run. Maybe they could be friends in the end.

#// yapping #Rahh want to make a recovery fanfic for Jerry and Beth but. i forgot how to write #i think about jerrick as well and jerrick shippers demonize beth to some degree and i can't fuck with that #look if Rick improves his relationship with Beth while also railing Jerry on the side i think it can get better for the both of them #(delusional)#Jerry Smith #Beth Smith #Jerbeth #Jerrick #I think Jerbeth has been dysfunctional from the start because like Beth's fucking pregnant but like also Jerry's so so loyal to her #i heavily fuck with Jerry having BPD because like let's face it yes he does sorry he's a canonical csa victim and his parents are emotional-#ly unavailable at most #Rick and Morty

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rosiegirlie · 30 days

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Press Your Number: John Egan x OC

word count: 4.8k a/n: I couldn't resist trying my hand at a John Egan story even though I'm nervous about it lol. As will probably be my usual this isn’t as researched / historically accurate as it should be so sorry in advance. I'm really just going off the vibes tbh ! read on AO3

The sun was setting with only the smallest bit still hanging on above the tops of the surrounding trees. It would soon be too dark for Jacqueline to continue working but luckily she’d reached a comfortable stopping point. She climbed down her ladder and stepped away from the plane to look up at her work. Oddly enough Jacqueline felt more proud of her pinup girl on the side of the plane than any of the pieces she’d shown back in Paris.

Normally Jaqueline painted nature scenes. She hadn’t painted a person since university and had been nervous when Corporal Ken Lemmons told her what they wanted. But she had to admit that she’d done good. The painted blushing blonde looked full of life with her lips red and open in a playful pout. Jacqueline had worried whether or not the outfit was too risqué but she liked how the blue two piece swimming costume stood out against the plane’s sheet metal. It was eye catching. She hoped the men liked it just as much as she did. It still seemed like some sort of joke that she was getting to paint again. When she’d overheard Ken bemoaning having to paint designs on the planes she’d jumped at the opportunity before even introducing herself. She never thought that she’d be able to do this sort of thing when she transferred out to Thorpe Abbotts.

Jacqueline figured she still had a couple minutes of light left and climbed back up on the ladder with her paintbrush and palette in hand. The shading along the cleavage didn’t seem right no matter how many times she touched it up. She ached for proper paint but knew to keep her complaints to herself. She’d find a way to make it work, she always did.

“Now that’s a view worth writing home about.”

The voice came from behind Jacqueline and in her surprise she jerked forward and had to stretch out her hand to brace herself against the plane to steady herself.

“Take it easy now.” The voice was louder, closer. Whoever the speaker was, he was probably right below Jacqueline. She pushed off from the plane and steadied herself on the ladder.

“I’m good.” she assured him. After taking a breath she finally looked down.

The man she didn’t recognize had moved up closer to the plane to get a better look at her work. A quick study of the man had Jacqueline wishing she��d met him in different circumstances when she wasn’t wearing coveralls three sizes too big, hair all tucked up into a sweat stained hat, and hands covered in paint. He was tall with broad shoulders. He was wearing a white sheepskin jacket instead of the ones every one else seemed to prefer. His hair looked thick and Jacqueline’s fingers itched to run themselves through it. She thought she saw a mustache. She needed to get a better look at him.

“Do you like it then?” She asked, gesturing to the pinup with her head even though he wasn’t looking at her to see the gesture. Jacqueline thrived off of hearing what people thought of her art. She was greedy for any possible crumb of praise.

“She’s beautiful. Modeled off your broad back home?”

“No, I just dreamed her up.”

“It’s damn realistic to be something you just dreamed up, you must have practice at this sort of thing.”

“I don’t have a lot of practice in painting half naked women, no.”

“Could’ve fooled me!” The man stepped away from the plane and Jacqueline finally got a better look at him.

He was gorgeous. Jacqueline really wished she looked more presentable. She pushed her feelings aside and joked, “It’s the naked women we practice on, not clothed.”

“I knew it! You must be some sort of professional artist.”

“Oh no, please.” She shook her head. “I hate that idea. If you ask me there’s no such thing as a professional artist.” She knew she should stop there but instead continued, “Art is something you engage with, a conversation with something you tap into. An artist should always be open to continual growth and learning. An artist is a student, not a professional. Or at least if they’re a proper artist they wouldn’t consider themselves a professional.” Jacqueline let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Sorry,” She raised her free hand not holding her paintbrush and palette and scratched at something on her cheek and along her jaw. She shrugged. “You were trying to pay me a compliment, it was rude of me to ramble. Thank you.”

When Jacqueline shifted to look back at the man she immediately met his eyes causing her to blush. His eyes were wide and after a brief moment of intense eye contact left her face to trace down her body. She felt his gaze as it went down to her hands in her lap. She burned as he worked his way back up to her face. It had been a while since a man had studied her like this and she hoped it turned into something as foolish as she knew it was to want. It was like his energy had changed completely and she didn’t know why. But she didn’t mind.

He smirked up at her, causing Jacqueline’s heart to skip a beat, and said, “It wasn’t rude no. Trust me, I love a good ol’ fashioned ramble.” He shook his head and put his hands on his hips. “I’m just realizing I was seriously misled on some key details.”

Jacqueline did nothing but stare at him, confused. He continued before she could figure out a response. “They said your name was Jack. I didn’t realize that was a nickname.”

Instinctively she tisked, “I told them to stop calling me that, it makes me sound like a boy. I hate nicknames.”

“If it’s not Jack then what’s your name?” He prodded.

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” She challenged with a smile.

“You can call me Bucky.” “Your mother named you Bucky?”

“My mother named me John but—”

“Lovely to meet you, John.” She stuck her free hand out and smiled wider when he took it in his own. “I’m Jacqueline.”

____

The officer’s club was full of laughter and music and men working off the restless energy that came with surviving another day. Normally Bucky would be right there with them, right in the thick of it. But he’d flown his first mission that day. He’d gone up and it hadn’t been anything like he thought. He couldn’t even remember what he thought it would be like. Bucky studied the glass in his hands. His hands had done terrible things that day, his hands were nothing like her’s. Nothing like Jacqueline.

For some reason Bucky hadn’t been able to get her out of his head. He’d never felt like this before, focused so much in on one woman. But he kept thinking about how delicate her paint stained hands looked and the way her scratching at a wayward piece of hair on her face made him realize that she was a woman and not a man like he’d been expecting. Bucky felt ridiculous for being so worked up over a broad’s hands but here he was, a mess. It had only been a couple of days but his thoughts kept coming back to the woman he hadn’t been able to find since meeting on the hardstand. The endless meetings with Colonel Huglin and various other staff hadn’t given him the free time he wanted to search for Jacqueline but at least that afternoon he’d worked out that she wasn’t a mechanic. His mistake had been assuming that her getup had been her uniform. Now he was back to square one.

A loud cackle broke through over the general noise of the crowd and Bucky couldn’t help but look for the source. There was a group of women by the corner of the dance floor and they looked like they were trying to contain one of them. Bucky watched and took in the view as they joked amongst themselves. The redhead, whose back had been to him, stepped out of the way and Bucky got a better look at the rest of the women in the group. Immediately his eyes jumped to the woman closest to the dance floor, the one with one hand on her hip while the other fanned at her face. She was wearing a rich blue dress that complimented her chestnut hair falling loosely around her face. He’d always liked the color blue but now he knew it was his favorite. She wasn’t wearing red lipstick like the rest of them but Bucky didn’t mind. She seemed to be entertaining her friends and making them laugh; he could tell from all the way across the room that she’d be the life of the party by his side. She was beautiful and Bucky needed to talk to her, needed to dance with her. Anything at all. He was a man starved.

But before he could make a move Lieutenant McDaniel was by his side and Bucky knew he was trapped. By the time he managed to get away from the conversation he’d lost her. Bucky kept his eyes peeled as the night went on, always looking over his shoulder. He’d catch glimpses but then she’d be gone before he could reach her. He couldn’t focus. He blamed his poor darts performance on the booze and joked that he’d come back around once he cleared his head. He wandered back over to the bar defeated. First he’d lost Jacquline and now he’d lost this mystery woman. If any of his guys found out he’d let them slip through his fingers they wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. Bucky’s reputation would never recover. He needed to pull himself together. He downed the last of his drink in one go and asked for another. As he waited for his drink he turned to lean against the bar top and look out over the room. His heart skipped a beat.

There she was in the middle of a group of women settling down around a table across the hall. She sat down in the seat against the wall, the only one facing him directly. A wave of desire rushed over him, an overwhelming sense of longing that had Bucky feeling like a kid with his first crush.

“Major.”

Bucky turned around and accepted the drink the bartender was offering him. “Thanks.” He lifted the glass in a cheers motion then turned back around with his eyes immediately going back to the woman.

Something one of the girls said made her throw her head back in laughter again and Bucky instantly felt himself smiling along with her. The woman was a vision; Bucky wanted to have his way with her. She grabbed her hair all in one hand and pulled it up and away from her face. She fanned herself with the other, still laughing with her friends. When she pulled her hair back the woman had exposed the side of her face and neck so Bucky could now take in her full profile. He almost dropped his drink when he realized he knew that jawline. It was Jacqueline. He’d been eyeing Jacqueline all night and didn’t even realize. He could practically hear Buck in his ear teasing him for being such a fool.

Without thinking Bucky set his drink on the bar and headed straight for Jacqueline. One of her friends, the redhead, saw him first and elbowed Jacqueline in the side to get her attention. John felt something settle in him when she met his eyes; it felt so right to have her looking at him. He’d always loved attention but never had it hit so right than now.

“Jacqueline.”

“John.”

He reached out a hand. “Dance with me, doll?”

“Doll?” she cocked an eyebrow at the endearment but before Bucky could worry about being turned down she was pushing her chair out from the table and standing up. “I can’t promise I’m a good dance partner. I’ll probably step on your toes.”

“A worthy sacrifice to have you in my arms.” He pulled her onto the dance floor and twirled her around, smiling when she giggled as she spun.

“Smooth talker, are you?” Jaqueline said as she settled into his arms and followed his lead as they started to dance.

“I’m whatever I need to be when the situation calls.” he boasted.

Jacqueline laughed. “Spoken like a real American.”

Bucky looked down at her confused but defensive. “What’s wrong with speaking like an American?”

“Nothing at all! Just that you lot tend to act before thinking and seem to think you can handle everything on your own.”

Bucky was quick to heat with anger but took a second to consider what she’d said. “Where are you from, then? Because your accent sounds an awful lot like mine.”

“Alright, you got me.” Jacqueline winked at Bucky like she was letting him on a secret. “I’m a Yank like you.”

“Do you not consider yourself American?” He watched Jacqueline chew on her lip while thinking how to answer. Now that he had her up close Bucky was grateful Jacqueline had forgone the red lipstick for something closer to her natural lip color. He was having a hard enough time keeping his cool as it was. if her full lips were fully painted up Bucky wasn’t sure he had the self control to stay respectable.

“I spent most of my life over here.” She finally answered. “I can’t even remember the last time I was in the States.” she took another moment to think. “It was probably when my mother passed. No, it can’t have been that long, I had to have been back since then. But maybe… no. Hmm… Wow.” she blushed, probably embarrassed at her rambling, and shook her head. “I guess I haven’t been back in nine years? Almost ten.”

“That’s a long time to be away from home.”

“Not if it never felt like home to begin with.” Jacqueline said with an unbothered shrug.

“I can’t wait to figure you out.” Bucky said without thinking first. He quickly turned to look away from Jacqueline to hide his face in case he really was blushing like he felt.

“It’s still early days.” Jacqueline mused. “We’ve got time.”

The song ended and the pair separated to join in the applause for the band. A slower song started up and Bucky was quick to pull Jacqueline back against him before she could escape. She didn’t resist him and settled into his arms, leaning her head on his chest. The thing that had settled into him before dug itself deeper. He hadn’t felt like this since his first days learning to fly.

They danced without talking for a while until Bucky leaned down close to Jacqueline’s ear and whispered, “I looked for you, you know.”

“You looked for me?” she pulled slightly away stared at him with a look of bewilderment. “What do you mean? Why?”

“Because I wanted to see you.” he said honestly. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Jacqueline mouth dropped open in surprise. She seemed to be lost for words and Bucky loved that. He loved throwing people off their game. He stared at her mouth and took note of the slight smudge of pale lipstick on the corner of her mouth. He wanted to kiss it. He cleared his throat and pushed down his instincts that were begging him to wrap Jacqueline fully in his arms and give into all temptation. He was going to take a page from Buck’s book and be a gentleman about this.

_____

Jacqueline was already at the bar when the Major came through the doors. A couple of cheers went up at his entrance and she couldn’t help but smile into her drink at the reaction. She loved the theatrics. But she’d done her research and she couldn’t believe she’d been so informal around someone with such a high rank. It didn’t make her want him any less, but it did intensify her nerves. Rank implied status and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to get back into the world of status. She watched as he wove his way through the crowd. He didn’t stop talking for a second. Jacqueline wasn’t sure why she was so endeared by his working the room.

The couple next to her left the bar leaving more than enough room for him to come up next to her. Jacqueline set her glass down on the bar and tried to straighten herself up. She didn’t know what she was going to say to him. Should she wait for him to say something first? She was awful at intentional flirting. Jacqueline glanced over her shoulder and then whipped her head back around. He was almost at the bar and Jacqueline knew he was going to come up next to her. This was it.

But then he didn’t recognize her. Didn’t even spare her a glance. Jacqueline wanted to laugh she was so mortified but held it in. Based off of the rumors she really thought he’d at least look at her even if he didn’t start flirting. She took a deep drink of her gin and tonic as she listened to the Major order a pint and make small talk with the airman on his other side. Her body felt like it was on fire she was so hyperaware of her surroundings. She felt beyond silly for getting her hopes up that he would want to talk to her again. It had been such a brief thing; they’d barely talked. It didn’t matter how nicely she tried to put herself together, it didn’t matter how long she’d spent on her hair and makeup. Her first impression had come and gone. She’d lost her chance to blow the Major away.

“Another round? Gin and tonic, right?” The bartender asked as she finished off her drink.

“Please. Thank you.” She said with a smile but barely met the bartender’s eyes. As soon as she had her new cocktail she slipped away from the bar and into the crowd.

Her original plan of doing something — admittedly she hadn’t gotten far enough along to actually plan anything, she’d been counting on John to do most of the doing — was useless now so she figured to hell with it. She was going to enjoy her night with her girls. Her closest friends and coworkers, Ginny and Elizabeth, cheered when she returned to them. Jacqueline thanked her past self for not telling them about meeting the Major. She knew they would tease and end up repeating the stories that had started spreading through the base. It didn’t do her any good to think about all of the women John had slept with. Maybe it was for the best that Jacqueline was forgettable. She needed to keep thinking about him as the Major, not as John. He was just a nice man she’d met and that was that.

An hour later and her friends were all sitting around a table, laughing at Ginny’s imitation of their old supervisor. Jacqueline pulled all of her hair back from her face, twisted it around in her hand and held it up at the back of her head. With her other hand she fanned at her face. She’d worked up a sweat dancing and her hand was doing nothing to help her cool down. Jacqueline had just made up her mind to go out and grab some air since she was so hot, maybe she’d even turn in for the night, when Elizabeth elbowed Jaqueline in the side.

“What was—” Jacqueline’s voice broke off when she followed Elizabeth’s line of site and saw the Major walking towards them. He was looking right at her and when she met his eyes he grinned. The other girls at their table turned to see what Jacqueline and Elizabeth were staring at and the conversation had died by the time John reached their table.

“Jacqueline.”

She felt butterflies when he said her name.

“John.” She replied with a smile. Then she’d taken his offered hand and followed him out to dance floor.

She’d spent the rest of the night wrapped up in John’s orbit. Even when they weren’t dancing John had kept her close, a warm presence that Jaqueline didn’t mind despite hating the heat. Normally Jacqueline was only good at being lively and social at the beginning of the night, more often than not she would slip out early to sooth her introverted nature begging to be alone. But somehow she loved being constantly surrounded with John by her side. It was easy to maintain a smile and keep up with the jokes being thrown around with the weight of John’s arm around her waist.

Time seemed to pass in the blink of an eye and too soon John was walking her back to her hut, the perfect gentleman despite the rumors. Jaqueline wondered if this was what flying felt like; oddly enough she felt weightless with her arm wrapped around John’s.

“When can I see you again?” John asked when they were almost at her hut.

“It’s a small base, I’m sure we’ll run into each other.” she said coyly. Jacqueline didn’t have a lot of experience with men but she knew with men like John she had to hold her ground. “I’m sure you could find me if you really wanted.”

“Is that a challenge?” He sounded excited, like Jacqueline had given him some sort of gift.

“You think you can manage finding me?”

“I’ll manage it all for you, whatever you ask.”

John’s words were what Jacqueline had always wanted to hear from a man but she knew to be wary. “You should be careful saying things like that to a girl. She might get her hopes up.”

“And if I want her to?”

That took Jacqueline by surprise. She spluttered, “Then you should show her you care. Talk is useless if it’s just that.”

“Good thing I’m a man who acts.” And with that John twisted Jacqueline towards him. His hand went right to the side of her face and he cradled her jaw as he pulled her in for a kiss.

Jacqueline didn’t even pretend to be respectable. As soon as John’s lips were on her’s she was desperate for more. She pulled her arm out from being trapped between them and wrapped it around John’s back to bring him closer. It was clear he hadn’t expected Jacqueline to escalate the kiss but he was quick to match her energy. He moved his hand into the thick of her hair and Jacqueline couldn’t hold back her moan when he tugged at it to bring her closer to him.

Her moan seemed to snap John out of it and he ripped himself away from Jacqueline, breathing hard. He took a couple of steps back leaving Jacqueline standing there looking like some strung out floozy with slick lips and wide eyes. She figured she should be embarrassed by how scandalous she was sure to look but she couldn’t seem to care when John seemed to be just as out of sorts. They looked at each other in silence, their heavy breathing the only noise between them. And then they both started to laugh loudly into the night. John came back to Jacqueline’s side.

“I’ll come find you.” He promised with a kiss to the top of her head. Another to her forehead.

“I’m looking forward to it, Major.” She gave him a wave before entering her hut. She waited a minute until she let out a giggle and danced around the empty hut like the teenage girl she was feeling like.

Jacqueline spent the next day on edge waiting for John to pop up at any moment. She meant what she said: Thorpe Abbotts wasn’t a big base. There were only so many places one could hide and she wasn’t even trying to hide. But to her dismay John never showed. She felt like such a fool for getting her hopes up. Her mood the following day went from bad to worse when the forts started rolling in after the mission. Lieutenant McDaniel’s fort, the one John was flying on, hadn’t come back. John was gone.

That afternoon Jacqueline was lost in thought staring out the minuscule window. The forest around the base reminded her of the years spent in Switzerland even though the two looked nothing alike. She had been such a child back then; the world had been so big back when she was young and now Jacqueline felt so small standing in the corner of the switchboard room. She felt so naive for losing herself over a flyboy so quickly, especially one she barely knew. Her cousin had joked that Jaqueline would find herself a pilot and finally have one of those romances that inspired great art. Even her aunt had commented on the possibility of her work leading to producing something she never thought possible. But just because the first world war and her various lovers had inspired her aunt to write didn’t mean Jacqueline was the same. Jacqueline was nauseous thinking about using her heartbreak as inspiration. Maybe this was why she couldn’t consider herself a proper artist.

The sound of her coworkers arguing pulled Jacqueline from her thoughts. It was no surprise they were talking about her. Nor was it a surprise they would do so openly in front of her without care. After all the time they’d spent together the three of them didn’t hold anything back.

“At least she got out quick.”

“Bloody hell, Ginny. That’s awful to say.” Elizabeth dropped her nail file on the ground as she looked up scandalized.

“I’m just saying!” Ginny defended herself. “You can’t tell me that the heartache would be the same if they’d been together for ages. She’s better off this way!”

Elizabeth bent down to reach under her chair. She picked up her nail file and pointed it accusingly at Ginny. “But you don’t need to say that!”

“It’s important to see the bright side!”

“It’s also important to have more than a couple of hours to process losing someone. You of all people should know better.” Elizabeth chastised.

Ginny’s face went red with a mix of embarrassment and anger. “I was just trying to help.” She pouted, bitter that Elizabeth had poked at her sore spot. “It’s okay, Ginny.” Jacqueline stepped away from the window and turned back around to face her friends. She gave them a weak smile in an effort to assure them but she could tell from their faces it didn’t work.

Their office was small, enough room to maneuver around their chairs but not much beyond that. It felt as cramped as their switchboards looked. But luckily the girls knew how to make the space work, having worked together for almost two and a half years. When Jacqueline had been approached to transfer to Thorpe Abbotts until the Americans could get their crew up and running she said she’d only go if she could pick who would work underneath her. Ginny and Elizabeth hadn’t let her down and Jacqueline was beyond grateful she didn’t have to navigate this new world alone.

She plopped down into her chair and let out a deep sigh. “You’re both right, I suppose.”

“How’re you doing?” Elizabeth asked gently.

Jacqueline shrugged. “As expected.”

“I’m assuming you don’t want to get a drink with us then, after we get off?”

“No one’s getting off anymore.”

“Ginny!” Elizabeth, as always, was scandalized by Ginny’s comment but Jacqueline was laughing despite herself.

“I didn’t even get off to begin with.” She confessed after she stopped giggling.

“All that and you didn’t—”

“When would I have had the time to shag him?” Jacqueline asked with a tired sigh. “You know I haven’t seen him since.”

Ginny was quiet for a moment but then said, “At least you snogged.”

Jaqueline’s heart hurt as she thought about how John had looked at her when he pulled away from their kiss after he walked her back to her hut. “At least there’s that.” she sighed again.

An alarm rang out and the girls sprung to attention.

“I got it.” Jacqueline motioned for the other two to settle back into their chairs while she put on her headset. She connected the right wire then said, “Good afternoon, this is RAF Thorpe Abbotts. How may I direct your call?”

____

He thought it was a dream at first, that made he’d hit his head at some point during the mission and was losing it. But his gut told him he recognized the voice of the operator who answered his call. He cleared his throat.

“This is Major Egan. We’re out at—”

“John!” the voice was breathless and desperate just like he’d been dreaming. Straight out of his fantasizes and into reality. “Major, are you there?”

Bucky cleared his throat again and said with a laugh, “Does it count as finding you if I don’t see you?”

A loud laugh came through the phone and Bucky felt human again.

#I have no big picture plan for this project which is Terrifying !! but I just had to get this out of my head #sorry to those waiting for a billie/rosie update I'll get started on the next thing right away i promise !!!!#also shout out to katie aka softspeirs for giving me feedback and reassurances she's truly the best #rosiegirlie writes #masters of the air #masters of the air fanfiction #mota fanfic #mota fanfiction #john egan x oc #john egan fanfiction

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vulturereyy · 11 months

Text

Where Chivalry Went To Die - Chapter 3: Resonance

“Sir Hegemol. First of my Great Knights,”

The water had wet the very ends of his beard.

“First of his rank; First to gain my trust, ”

He craned his head upwards, attempting to escape the rising tide, only to find his efforts met with the runoff from a new gutter.

“First Royal Tactician, Right Hand to the King himself,”

The old knight’s eyes squeezed shut as the rain swallowed them as well, hands bracing on either side of the prison, if only to lift his head just a bit higher. “First of us to fall.”

Hegemol’s mandibles struggled to part as they were seized by the cold, drawing in a desperate last breath before the water claimed his mask.

“First of us to fail Hallownest.”

The city, the lights, the cries from the citizens were drowned out as he found himself swallowed wholly by the rain.

"What say you, to the people you abandoned?"

#Where Chivalry Went To Die #WCWTD #dream sequences are fun #it starts out slow but if i can get there it's gonna be great #my first fanfic ever #sorry hegemol #mighty hegemol #the pale king #hk pale king #hollow knight #hk hegemol #still one of my favorite scenes I've written and hoo boy we have so much more PK Hegemol content in store #their relationship to one another is the entire reason I am writing this fic

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honeyynymphh · 1 year

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| The Mark of the Beast |

Cardinal Copia x Fem!Reader rating: E chapter word count: 1.6k chapter 2 of 2 tags/warnings: dom copia, he's a dickhead, fingering, oral sex chapter one

An imposter has apparently been hiding in the abbey, and there is only one way to prove you're part of the congregation. And that is to submit yourself to an examination to find Lucifer's mark upon your body.

read on ao3

I watched him sweep out of the office without another glance in my direction. I closed my eyes and sighed. I couldn’t sit here all night. Quickly I put my clothes back and on shaky legs left his office. I didn’t feel particularly hungry and so I just wandered over to the other side of the abbey to the dormitories. When I pushed through the door, Sister Rosaline was there lounging on her bed and reading some trashy magazine.

“So you’re not an imposter then,” she said, flicking a page as I walked in.

I scowled at her. I was not in the mood.

“No,” I snapped.

Rosaline tossed the magazine on the bed and sat up.

“No need to get your panties in a twist!” she said. “Where was it? Your mark.”

“On my…thigh,” I said, trying to keep calm. I was not telling her where it was exactly. “It was mortifying.”

She shrugged. “It’s just Imperator.”

“It wasn’t,” I said, sitting down on my bed and dropping my face into my hands.

“Huh?”

I scowled at her again. “She was called out! It was the Cardinal.”

“Copia?” asked Rosaline.

“Yes.”

“Ugh, he’s weird,” she said. “Oh well, you probably gave him the highlight of the week.” Rosaline snorted. “Heaven, probably the highlight of his year seeing a pretty girl in her underwear.”

I just made a non-committal noise. I wanted to tell her, but I also didn’t want to breathe a word. He hadn’t done anything, not really. How could I even admit to how easily he had worked me up? Rosaline would probably laugh at me.

“Brother Tristan reckons he used to be a eunuch,” continued Rosaline with another laugh, “and that’s why he doesn’t attend any of the orgies or accept anyone’s invitation.”

“I highly doubt it, Rosaline,” I said.

Maybe I should have just gone to dinner instead of coming here. I didn’t know what to do, I still felt on edge and Rosaline was still talking about Copia.

“Maybe his dick’s just really tiny,” she was saying. “Would explain his foul personality.” She sat there thoughtfully. “I did try to fuck him once, I thought it’d be funny. He told me to fuck off.”

I shrugged. I wasn’t really listening to her. I kept thinking about his mouth on my thigh and wondering what he would have done if I had been bold enough to move forward. Or if I had grabbed his head and brought his face fully against myself. Surely he would have said something cutting and rude to me as he did to Rosaline. But I couldn't stop myself from thinking about it, I shifted awkwardly on the bed.

“Shame it wasn’t Papa Terzo though,” said Rosaline with a dreamy sigh. “I was wearing my best lingerie today. Sister said it was unnecessarily pink and frilly. Tristan said Copia was so rude about his fucking boxershorts.” She laughed. “Though I would have made fun of Tristan for wearing Pokemon boxers too. Did he make fun of yours?”

“Oh, umm no?,” I muttered coming back to myself. “Did…did Tristan say anything about his mark being checked if it was real? Did Sister check yours?”

“With the unholy water?” asked Rosaline, grabbing her magazine back off the bed. “Yeah. It’s not like she was going to perform osculum obscenum.” She let out a short laugh as she flipped the magazine back open. “And Copia is certainly not going to—imagine!”

It was with a sort of sinking feeling in my stomach that I asked, “what is that?”

“Kiss of the Obscene,” said Rosaline with a wave of her hand. “You have to kiss the mark with obscene intent. It’s very old-fashioned. Not very modern says Sister.” Rosaline sighed dreamily. “I wouldn’t say no if it was Papa doing it though.”

I hummed distractedly in agreement, getting off my bed and wringing my hands together. Why had he done that? The bastard! Was it because I was new and wouldn’t know any better? I could understand why nobody liked him much, he was infuriating. Unholy water! He hadn't needed to touch me!

I barely heard Rosaline asking me where I was going as I stormed out of our room. The nerve of that man to do such a thing! I had been so nervous and he had done nothing to make me feel comfortable—he had gone out of his way to make me feel the opposite! Dinner must have ended as I passed a few siblings heading back to their rooms but mostly I hurried through the halls unheeded.

When I found myself standing at his office door, the righteous anger had somewhat faded away. What was I going to say? I should have thought about it more.

“Either come in or leave,” came his voice from the other side of the door.

Sucking in a breath, I entered and tried to shut the door with a bang. But it must have had some mechanic that made it close with a gentle click which just angered me even more. The Cardinal was standing at a bookshelf with a small book in hand. He snapped it closed when he saw me.

“Problem, Sister?” he said, a devious little smile tugging at the corner of his lips

“What you did to me was perverse!” I said hotly.

He moved towards me then until he was only about a foot away and I resisted the urge to take a step back. I was not going to let him intimidate me.

“Are you upset because I didn’t flick you with unholy water like everyone else,” he asked, “or because I didn’t flick my tongue over that needy cunt of yours?”

My whole body flushed and I dropped my gaze. So much for my defences. I shook my head and glared back up at him.

“Well?” he said.

“You deliberately made me uncomfortable,” I managed to say.

“Answer the question, dolce.”

“You did it on purpose!” I did not sound very controlled. But it was hard to remain calm with that smirking face looming in front of me.

“I did.” He moved even closer. “I didn’t know where your mark would be though, that was a delightful discovery. And how fun it was to watch you squirm.”

I couldn’t help but take another step back. I didn’t expect him to admit to it! My back hit the closed door with a thump. He had such a smug look on his face that it just irritated me even further.

“You’re perverse!”

He laughed. “Yes, you said that. And you’re only saying that because I didn’t touch you where you wanted me to.” He moved so close to me that I felt the edge of his cassock brush against me. “Tell me, Sister, is that pussy still wet?”

It was. I suddenly couldn’t open my mouth though, I was feeling too overwhelmed by him and every word indignant word I had wanted to say had faltered.

“Lift up your habit,” he commanded.

I blinked at him in surprise but my hands were already moving of their own accord, gripping the fabric and lifting it up as he dropped to his knees. My chest was pounding and my breath faltered when I felt his hands grip the side of my panties and pull them down to my ankles.

“Well, Sister, clearly I was wrong,” he said smoothly and I felt his hot breath against my thigh, making me shiver. A firm hand gripped my thigh. “You are definitely no pious little princess, eh?”

Like a snake he moved forward fast and licked along the inside of my thigh, tongue swiping across my mark again and making it burn. I couldn’t help but moan at the hot burst of it as it ignited every nerve in my body. It quickly turned into a string of whimpers when I felt his tongue flicking against my folds.

My hands flew out to grip his head, fingers finally getting to touch his hair. It was soft but I was barely paying attention, that nose of his was pressed against my swollen clit and he was tasting me like a starving man. The feel of his moustache tickled and it made my toes curl in my shoes. When I felt him slide a gloved finger inside me I nearly lost my balance, but his other hand held me tightly by my hip. Another finger joined the first and was stretching me as I panted above him. His fingers pumped out of my soaked cunt while his mouth latched onto my clit. Arousal was building within me and I had been so on edge that I was already so close. My fingers were tugging at his hair and there was no stopping me from grinding against his fingers and mouth.

I whined when his mouth left my clit but he was merely moving to suck on my mark again. The intense burn made me cry out but it only made the pleasure more intense. I could already feel my legs starting to buckle as the tension began to tighten and my walls were already starting to flutter around his fingers. Too quickly I was already over the edge, pleasure rolling over my body as I came hard. I could feel the sweat on my back and the way my habit was clinging to it in uncomfortable clumps but I didn’t care.

Looking down at him in a pleasured daze I could see his mouth was slick with my come, the paint smudged across his face as he smirked up at me. My breathing was still coming out in ragged breaths but I managed to slow it down enough to speak.

“Are you going to show me your mark, Cardinal?”

The man stood and I watched as he slowly removed the pellegrina before unbuttoning the many buttons of his cassock.

“Are you going to flick me with unholy water, dolce?” he asked

I shook my head. “I think you may be right and the old ways are better, Cardinal.”

He locked the door.

#started making it had a breakdown bon appetit #this is pretty bad sorry but I just wanted it done #it didnt work how i wanted at all 🙃#i would like to come to this idea another time #the band ghost fic #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #my-writing #ghost fanfiction #fanfic #fic: mark of the beast

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