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witch-hazels-musings · 3 years

Note

I'm curious of how characters would use their visions in the bedroom 👀 Like, Kaeya would totally do temperature control stuff.

Could I request headcannons or narratives for how Diluc and Albedo would use their visions for your pleasure? (or for theirs 😳)

Note: I believe vision can only be used when they are in the possession of the person they were gifted to ( primary reason: Diluc giving his away - if anyone could have used it he would have given it to his father, and if he didn’t really need it to use his vision, he wouldn’t have taken it back )

Warning -> slightly funny? 18+ OMG PLEASE RESPECT THE 18+! NS_FW!!!! ( foreign penetration, voyeurism (Alb), burning clothes, no injury, held against wall (D), orgasm denial, foreplay, hydro bondage, hydro foreplay, voyeurism (C))

Character X GN Reader | Anthology

( okay … so this one is gonna be the strangest one I’ve ever done?, and I’m apologizing right now for it --- i’m literally so embarrassed, ima hide under my desk DONT JUDGE ME T.T )

Includes: Albedo (i’m sorry), Childe, Diluc

Albedo

A vision in the hands of Albedo is a tool for many uses - he sees it less as proof of his power and more of a means to an end - it’s an extension of what he has available and he’s learned to adapt it to any possible scenario

Now he’s learned there are ways he can use it to satiate you while he continues to do his work - and, if he’s feeling especially devious, inquisitive to the point of combustion, he may just watch

“Alb--bedo …” You adjusted, legs pressed together so intensely that you thought you might break your kneecaps. Shaking hands gripped onto the closest thing they could while you did your best to stay seated just where he placed you.

“Try not to move too much, it will alter the drawing.” He sat with his leg resting over his thigh, the large sketchpad he had propped up there was bouncing vigorously as his hand ran across the paper. The pencil, when you could see it through your blurry vision, was dancing across the parchment in unbelievable speed as if to capture what was before it.

The vibrations that shook your body seemed to fluctuate from intense stimulation to slow, steady pulsations. Every dip in frequency allowed you room to breathe, your hands moved to your face, teeth bit onto your fingers as your hips rocked against nothing as they sorrowfully tried to help you get off.

“Be-do, please …” You whined, eyes glossing over as you looked at him. Did he laugh, did he smile at you, how heartless could he get. Under your rippling vision, you saw how it glowed brighter and richer in color, and yet, as if you didn’t comprehend its meaning, your hands flew down to grab onto the chair while the resonating stimulation grew between your legs. “Ah!” You slid further into the chair, your head resting on the back of the chair as your fingers gripped and pushed against the edge of the seat. Arching your back, lifting your legs up onto your toes you couldn’t help the moans and pants that fell from your mouth at an unreasonable pace.

“Hold that pose.” Albedo’s voice was calm even if the speed at which he turned the page wasn’t and, as you gazed at him you couldn’t help but lose your mind at the way he observed you. The intensity of it was so powerful that even though you knew he wasn’t inside of you, it felt like he was.

You crashed like a runaway cart into your orgasm, it shook you to your core, and even though you were screaming moments ago all that came out now was a high-pitched whimper. Deep breaths were all that you could take as you clenched around the object Albedo had placed inside of you, it was so hot that you started to pull at your shirt, and soon your hands found their way to the spasming place between your legs.

Albedo’s voice suddenly sounded much closer to you, his lips pressing to your forehead while his hand rested on the one you had near the object. “You did excellently, but I’d like to see more of you if I could, will you assist me again?”

In your dizzy haze, you glanced at his bright eyes and with a gaping, air-sucking mouth, you gave your reply.

Childe

There was no need to keep his skills at manipulating hydro out of everything that he did, why would he when he was so beyond capable at making it do exactly what he wanted. Whether that be from creating blades out of it, spears in its likeness, or even shackles to hold people down - he was learning just how versatile water could be

How could he not give everything he’s ever wanted to try to his partner who had shown him on multiple occasions a level of trust he knew he didn’t deserve, and a willingness to let him do what he wanted -- you always gave him permission, and you were doing it even now

Your back arched as his hands slid under your pants. The way he touched you so perfectly made your vision go dark before lighting up under the stars. As soon as he put pressure right where you needed it, fingers bending and flexing to let you know how much control he had over you, the sound of pleasure and excitement that slipped from your mouth gave him access to the tongue inside of it.

He played with you, toyed with the tightness in your stomach. Every time you were about to break under his stimulation he pulled away just to watch how much you’d whine.

“Childe, please …” You shifted under him as he slowly, painstakingly began to remove your clothes. Each layer, every article which fell to the floor next to the bed felt like an eternity in your sinful sentence. The way his hands ran down your legs as he slipped off your pants, the sensation of his gloved fingers trailing down the center of your chest as he watched the way you squirmed and grabbed at his arm - he was enjoying it all and he had barely done anything to you yet.

“I’ll give you exactly what you need, remember,” He pressed his lips to your neck, your collarbone, and in the center of your chest before continuing, “If you want to stop, tell me immediately.” You nodded your head and he sealed your promise with a passionate kiss.

In no time, he had you exactly in the state he wanted you, his eyes observing the beauty and perfection that lay before him and as your own gazed longingly, eagerly back at him, you noticed how his vision began to hum. It pulsed like a glowing heart and in your curiosity, you reached your hand for it only to find it was impossible.

Tilting your head, you noticed there was a stream of water around your wrists. Funny, you couldn’t tell that your skin was wet at all. That’s when a new sensation began to work its way up to your legs and when you looked down to investigate, you noticed a swirling blue like rope beginning to creep its way further up your body.

“What’s …” The smile that stretched his lips and seeped into his dangerous eyes made it so hard for you to breathe. Your heart pounded in your chest, your stomach rippled with excitement, and the build-up in your body began to increase so much you were sure he was going to make you orgasm just from his stare alone.

“Ready?”

“Yeah, ready for wh-AH!” The flowing water reached your ache. The wetness of it made your body nearly seize as he worked its way into you. The moans and cries that left your burning throat were so loud you were sure someone was going to hear you. Desperately, you wanted to cover your mouth but your wrists were still locked above your head so instead, you tried to bite your lip but that only sealed in so much noise.

“My, how adorable you look like this.” Childe hummed, his hand moving to stroke your chest as he leaned down to pepper kisses against your throat. “Let’s push a little further, what do you say?”

The girth of the water increased and no amount of self-control was capable of holding back the scream released from your body. Your feet struggled against the mattress, futile attempts to assist you in raising your body off of the mattress came with frustrated huffs and whines in your throat. You called out his name and soon you heard the sound of rattling metal.

“Damn, I made myself jealous.” Suddenly, all the water around your body ran down your skin and before you could understand what was happening, Childe positioned himself above you and worked at finishing what his hydro vision started.

Diluc

He usually has so much more control - he had to learn in order to survive, but there were times, there were moments when all he knew was instinct and all he could do was feel

With you, these moments came up more frequently than he would have ever anticipated - there is no switch to turn himself off when he gets lost in your body. You learned to never get him so worked up while his vision still rested at his hip (things were bound to burn)

He backed you into a wall, his fever to have you was apparent by the intense way his hands ran over your body, tugged at your clothes, manipulated your hands with his. He was almost like another person, a delusion of himself. There was no way you could have known riling him up would lead to this and while it was incredible, the ferocity of him, the unreserved nature that he was capable of showing, it was also incredibly hot.

“Diluc wait -” You tried to reach for his vision but his hands plastered yours to the wall. His lips claimed any part of your skin that they could and the pressure of his body against you, the feeling of his growing and dangerous erection crushing against your stomach made every rational thought in your brain fall to the floor he hardly let you touch.

His strength always shocked you. For someone so thin it was often hard to remember that he was capable of it - even though you watched him fling his claymore around like it was nothing, even though on countless occasions he lifted you like you were a freshly sprouted plant; how deceiving his true abilities were to you and everyone else.

Your clothes began to cling to your body. The sweat dripping down your back, in between your legs, your neck all made you wildly informed his vision was active. You didn’t even need to see how it burned like a beating ember to know he was calling on its ability. He let go of your hands and began to work himself out of his jacket, undo his vest, and any other article of clothing he could all the while his mouth kept yours occupied.

The heat from his tongue was near scalding, how was he able to let this fire seep through every single part of his being - was he not experiencing it too? When his chest was exposed, your hands ran over his rippled torso and the question you just asked yourself was answered as you felt how slick he was becoming.

You pulled him closer, the resulting action making his body come into immediate contact with yours and the feeling of his cock digging into the soft and sensitive area between your legs made you burst in exclamation. Your head landed on the wall, hands slid around the hem of his pants and gripped so tightly onto them his hips pushed further into you.

“It’s hot, it’s so hot.” You panted, gazing at him and hoping that your words made sense. Your body was hot, everything was hot, but while you wanted him to alleviate the heat, you hoped he’d remove one primary cause of it.

Pinning your hands above your head, he quickly began to work on your pants. He wasted no time undoing the buckles and buttons that kept you clothed and as he helped you remove them there was a distinct smell filling the air. When you looked down, the fabric was starting to burn even with you still in it.

“Diluc! Hold-ah!” Struggling against him, you began to shake your lower body and in his complete daze, he slowly came back to realization. In an instant, he let go of you and grabbed the nearest item to him to put out the flames. He was on his knees, his black shirt tightly wrapped around your chard pants afraid that if he didn’t keep it there the flames would get worse.

“Y/N … I cannot apologize enou-” Your laughter cut him off, the expression he shot up to you was one of mass confusion as he searched for understanding.

“If I had known you were going to burn my clothes, I would have teased you without them.” He shook his head and tried to apologize again, his eyes dropping to your legs, assessing them for any damage. “I’m fine, you didn’t burn me.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist, his cheek pressing against your stomach as he held onto you tightly. Chuckling, you rested your hand on his hair and began to caress him, the soft movements reassuring him until he composed himself again and lifted back to his full height. Looking at his face, you could tell he was nervous, so you lifted onto your toes to give him a kiss of redemption.

“Next time, let’s leave this,” you reached for his vision and easily removed it from his pants, “out of the action. What do you say, hot-stuff?” His eyes narrowed at your nickname but agreed to your suggestion anyway.

( no one is tagged because I am too embarrassed to do that! )

#genshin impact #genshin impact X reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact musings #genshin impact fiction #genshin impact 18+#albedo x reader #albedo #genshin albedo #childe X reader #childe #genshin childe #diluc X reader #diluc #genshin diluc #genshin impact diluc

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wannabegwenstacy · 3 years

Text

Bangtan in Bed: Kim Seokjin | NSFW

Kim Seokjin: The Romantic Dom - 210920 🌹

Rating: 18+

Contains: overstimulation, stripteases, lingerie, roleplay, teacher/student dynamic, sir/angel or babydoll dynamic, body worship, praise kink, food play, dirty talk, orgasm denial, fingering, pink handcuffs

A/N: I apologize for this being late. This week has been quite hectic! not only online with the boys traveling for the UNGA and being stalked/harassed but irl also for me. It put me behind with planning but i'm gonna try to get back on schedule with posting. Anyways, ENJOY! 💜

Series Masterlist

⇣Below cut⇣

Definition of “Gentlemen in the streets freak in the sheets”

A Romantic Dom

I feel like when he finds his person there will be a lot of unrivaled passion from him, he will never let go.

He is loyal for sure. No other thoughts will adorn that beautiful head of his. Just them.

Speaking of that he is definitely one to go all-in for his partner. He would want to spoil them any chance he got.

Think that interview where he just so casually mentioned how his future partner will not exactly be sleeping after the wedding.

Multiple rounds with this one.

Tiring each other out after an especially stressful week. Releasing all the frustration from work and being away from each other then falling asleep in each others arms.

Using his love as his cardio rather than going to the gym on some occasions.

Overstimulating them till little cries and tears form in the corners of their eyes. Kissing them away before they fall down their face. Telling them just how well they are doing and just how sinful they look flush, red, and begging for him.

Just wanting to make them feel good. Rewarding them however he can. Showing them just how much they mean to him. Then doing it all over again.

Pushing them to their max, holding them back from what they craze just for a little while longer as deep satori laced encouraging coos fall from his lips. Pulling them close two fingers deep inside curled and pressed flush to their pleasure point. with each jut of his hand edging them on but not letting them cum just yet. He knows they can do more, go a little longer, his precious angel.

Jin's fingers are a sin all in their own. Crocked, long, and oh so beautiful. If Tongue Technology is Yoongi's specialty. Then Fingering is Jin's.

He loves his baby doll all spread out before him watching as they squirm under his touch. He hasn't even shed any clothing yet and they're whining under him, only his fingers touching their skin. The power of it all.

But still remember Jin's a romantic. He loves having that control but even in his more dominant moments there is always hints of care and love present. The sweet encouragements to the gentle or sometimes passionate kisses. He just wants to show them how much he appreciate them.

He is a passionate lover. The type to not go super fast. Hard and Deep but not fast.

Very sensual. Body Worship & Praise are a constant with him.

TEASE!

When he is in the moment he would hold his partner down.

Unwavering eye contact with feather-light kisses as he pushes in, slowly. Stretching them out and letting them feel the full of him. Once he bottoms out he would still his hips holding there.

Holding back his own motivations to move trying to be as still as he can muster himself to be in an attempt to increase the anticipation

He would go as deep as his own body was willing him to go, hips flush to their own, filling them up.

Holding them close before pulling out agonizingly slow letting them feel the contours of the veins of his cock move along their walls.

Once he is almost completely out, only the head still resting inside. His eyes would crinkle slightly, a small smirk appearing followed by a wink and a snap of his hips as he dives straight back in rolling his hips up at the end. Before doing that, again and again, changing the strokes ever so slightly each time.

It's no secret that Jin tends to be quite private (he doesn't got to tell nobody shit if he doesn't want to)

What I'm getting at is he is not one to really kiss and tell if you know what I mean.

He thinks of sex as a private act. One that stays behind closed doors. So not an exhibitionist.

He likes eye contact. He wants to see his partner at all times. See the effect he has on them.

He wants to see their jaw clench then fall open with a gasp.

Watch as they bite down on their bottom lip in an attempt to hold back any sounds from coming tumbling out.

Their swollen lips

Their chest heaving the closer they get to their finish

To watch as their eyes squeeze shut in concentration on the growing heat in their abdomen

Their little nose scrunches

Watch their eyebrows push together in the middle creating little wrinkles form between them

Their little forehead creases

He wants to see it all. He wants to see the effect he has on them as he works.

Outside of the bedroom this man is the biggest romantic too! Flowers, poems, serenading, little hidden notes, breakfast in bed, candles, baths, it all!

It wouldn't surprise me if romance even turns him on.

Aftercare kisses and cuddles turning into another round which leads to them needing to clean up, he would draw a bath and clean each other up which would just lead to maybe possibly even more.

His love and affection being poured out in these moments. Just seeing their flushed cheeks, batted breaths, and bare skin before him.

Knowing they are reacting to him in this way? Makes his heart do little somersaults in his chest <3

You know how loud Jin is when he eats? Yeah. If he likes it, he's not going to be quiet. Loudest Baby Boy there is!

Speaking of Jin's foodie tendencies. Food Play.

Kissing down his angel's body, worshiping every curve.

Feather light touches of his pretty pink lips brushing along their skin. Almost ticklish touches in contrast to the thick liquids heavy on their skin.

Body shots is another thing he loves.

Pouring the liquor into their mouth, some leaking out the sides. Little droplets caught by his thumb. Telling his babydoll to hold still. Not to make too much of a mess or else he'll have to have them on their hands and knees cleaning it up in that pretty little pink maid uniform of theirs.

He would lean down, lips pressing to theirs drinking it all up along with them. Tongue darting in, savoring the biteful taste of the poisonous liquid mixed with the taste of his sweet little angel before him.

Trying to collect every last drop before sucking down on their bottom lip pulling back, eyes flicking up. Lips flush and red from the previous transgressions.

Moving to kiss down the corners of their mouth following the path set from the droplets he missed. Hand lightly clasping their jaw with his thumb and pointer finger turning their head to get better access to their neck. Then kissing down it teasingly slow.

4/7 nights out of a week they are his dinner and dessert.

For dessert melted chocolate specifically.

Having it drizzled along their chest. Nipples covered in the warm liquid.

Licking across and taking his time to clean them up the best he can. Kissing most of it away in the first pass across their chest before going back across with his tongue licking the rest then clamping down with his mouth around their nipples, swirling and flicking against them. Making them 10 times more sensitive under him.

Kissing down their body from there. Leaving tiny pecks and little nibbles followed by a smirk. His fingers falling not far behind.

Worshiping every inch. Not letting any divot or crevice untouched by him. Taking his time ravishing every little "imperfection".

Telling them just how beautiful they are as he works his way down.

Little coos of angel / babydoll falling from his lips. His favorite pet names for his love.

He loves being called Sir on the occasion too.

Mostly during role play. Which isn't a so secret guilty pleasure of his. Hey, he went to acting school he doesn't want to let all that talent go to waste after all.

His favorite dynamic situations to play through are Teacher - Student ones. Their pink little school uniform hugging their chest, arms, and ass just perfectly. Being called "Sir". Having them do whatever he says. So submissive before him. He would have to punish them for talking back or breaking a school rule. Using some pink heart-shaped handcuffs he ended up taking home from the butter concept photoshoots.

Or something spilling onto their uniform making them have to change because that's also against school rules.

Stripping of their tight uniform revealing a matching pink, lacy, and frilly lingerie set beneath.

That's heaven to him.

PREVIOUS UPDATE: Namjoon!

NEXT UPDATE: Yoongi! - 210927

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keisurou · 3 years

Text

build it up

(ft. koutarou bokuto)

minors dni.

wc: 3.2k

Warnings: semi-public sex (in the locker room?), doggy style, mirror sex, mutual masturbation, blowjob, atsumu x kiyoomi ship, atsumu being a lil’ shit and drilling ideas into bo’s head, not edited.

So my friends and I were fangirling discussing and apparently personality-wise, I’m basically a mix of Akaashi and Kenma, and it kinda makes sense because my top two comfort characters are Kuroo and Bokuto. Anyways, this is just a lil’ thing I wanted to try out, and again, this is not edited (i did edit it, and then my laptop just DIED so now its all gone. *sobs*) - does anyone want to be a beta-reader?? Because I literally went on a road trip with my family and just typed this in the car the entire time while my brothers screamed nonsense bs next to me. Hmu if you’re actually interested :)

“Babe,” Bokuto murmurs into your neck, drawing out the word, his hair still damp and smoothed down from his shower not too long ago. You’re trying to focus on the pile of research assignments in front of you, but the way your fiance is rubbing circles on your back has you rereading the same sentence multiple times. “I heard something I wanna try,”

“Hmm?” You hum noncommittally, encouraging him to continue, but you don’t look away from the papers. He frowns, frustration clawing at his belly and lets out a small grunt as he paws at your thighs exposed by your silk pyjamas. When he doesn’t speak, you turn to him and run your fingers through his damp locks before ruffling them slightly. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you tired? You have practice tomorrow morning, don’t you?”

He doesn’t respond, his gaze locked on your lips and the way your tongue peeks out ever so slightly to wet your bottom lip only for a second. Bokuto has been strung tight lately; he had just returned from a training camp after being away from you for an entire week. He had been so excited to come home to you; he missed your smiles, your soft agreements, the way you came apart and lost yourself under his touch. But instead, he came home to you fully decked out in your ‘no sex’ gear. That’s right, from the ten piles of papers you had to mark, and a brand new box of red felt tips, you were ready for five days of no sleep, no fun, and absolutely nothing frisky with Bokuto. Needless to say, he almost cried when he first stepped into the apartment.

But now, with only ten research papers left, you were practically finished. “Babe, let’s cuddle tonight,” You give him a look, and he deflates only a little before quickly adding, “I’ll be good, I swear,”

“Kou-kun,” you lean in and give him a soft peck on the cheek, and he’s so touch starved that he sits motionless, absorbing the way your lips brush against his skin for as long as he can. “You’re always good.” You move away, and he quickly grabs your hands, intertwining your fingers together. “But if I finish up here today, I won’t be able to see you play tomorrow,”

He’s silent as he contemplates this and then promptly hooks a hand around your waist and pulls you to him. His lips slant over yours, and it only takes you a second to melt into the kiss, hands flying to the hem of his t-shirt to drag him closer. Your lips are warm, and he can taste the sweetness of cherries from the dizzying brush of your tongue. He leans back against the sofa, and you clamber onto his lap, your softness meeting the hard planes of his body as you kiss along the smooth column of his neck. There is nothing sexier than the way you press a kiss before nibbling along his jaw, and his hands automatically find their way under your sleep shirt to squeeze at a naked breast.

You let out a strangled moan and immediately press your body to his chest, halting his movements. Bokuto’s eyes widen as he tentatively brushes a thumb on the underside of your breast, only for you to shudder. “Koutarou, wait,” you pant softly, grabbing at his arm to pull it from your chest. “I’m really sensitive today, and it hurts if you squeeze too roughly,”

“Why?”

“I’m on my period,” you say simply, and he blurts out the first thing that pops into his head.

“So, no sex?”

You shake your head, and his erection throbs painfully in his shorts as it strains against the material, somehow understanding the situation but not exactly cooperating. You get up to clear the table, and when you stretch, he can clearly see the way your nipples poke through the flimsy fabric, almost as if begging for his attention. He’s up, wrapping his arms around your waist and breathing in the scent of your hair. “Can I massage them?”

You pause, and when you don’t respond for a few seconds, he cups one breast through the shirt, palming it softly until you melt under his touch. “O-Okay, but no sex,”

He murmurs out a thank you, his golden eyes sparkling, and he’s glad you don’t question his enthusiasm. Once in the shared bedroom, he strips your shirt off your body watches with hooded eyes as you crawl over to join him at the centre of the bed.

His fingers brush against a peaked nipple before slowly pushing down on the nub, and you let out a soft whine before cupping your other breast yourself, rotating the flesh in small circles.

Bokuto briefly wonders how long it could take to make you cum just from your tits, and he turns it into a personal mission for tonight. He pulls at the free nipple, and you gasp sharply. Your reaction brings a lazy grin on his face, and he brings you to sit on top of him, the outline of his erection pressing against your ass so he can feel at least some sort of friction. He swats your hand away and pulls a nipple into the heat of his mouth, suckling the flesh softly as your thighs tremble around his waist. The first contact of his teeth against your sensitive nipple has your breath hitching deliciously as you chant his name, and he does it again, wanting to commit the sound to memory.

“K-Koutarou, please. I’m going to-”

He switches to the other breast and bites down on the nipple without warning. Your hands fly to the back of his head, pushing him closer to your chest as he soothes the abused skin with long strokes of his tongue. The way you pull at his hair sends sharp jolts of pain, and you realise that each time you tug at his locks, he puts his teeth to work.

You tug at his hair again, and he smiles as he bites down for a second. He takes satisfaction in the way you tremble and grind against him when he tugs at a hardened bud with his fingers, twisting and rolling the nub until it borders on pain and pleasure. He’s going to make you come like this even if he doesn’t get any sleep.

Minutes later, you tremble, your hands feebly pushing at Bokuto, and he leans back only slightly. He watches with wide eyes as you roll your hips, the movements unstable and shaky, almost frenzied. Your fingers squeeze at a breast and pull at the tip of the other, and you let out a breathy moan at the sharp streak of pain that quickly turns into pleasure. “K-Kou-kun. I’m s-so close. So close.” You whine out in both pleasure and frustration and reach for his hands so he can help you finish the job. “Please,”

You don’t notice the way Bokuto’s erection grows bigger from under you. He loves it when you beg for him like this, eyes glazed with lust without a care in the world except for how quickly you’ll come. It’s so intoxicating, and you look so desperate that he can’t help but want to tease you until you’re ruined. But tonight, there was no way; you wouldn’t be getting any help from him until he gets off on the image of you sobbing for his fingers and his tongue.

He watches as your eyes widen when you see him take out his cock and grip himself at the base. The tip is red and weeping, and when he smears the fluid all over the head, he’s delighted to see the way you lick your lips and lean forward, entranced. “What is it, puppy?” He purrs and grips himself at the base before moving up to the tip and coming back down again. The way your eyes follow the movement is incredibly sexy, but it’s the tremble in your lower lip that has him growing harder. “F-Fuck. Shit, you want my cock? I thought you said no sex.”

There’s a whine of frustration, and at this point, he can’t tell if it’s from you or him, but the way you rub your thighs together and tug at your nipples has him lifting his hips, craving the friction he can’t have. There are now tears in your eyes as you sniffle. For a fleeting moment, Bokuto considers sliding your underwear to the side; your period be damned, and fucking you into the mattress until the bedsheet is soaked with your tears. His cock twitches in agreement at the mental image, and a shudder goes down his spine.

Instead, he gives himself a few more rough strokes and closes his eyes, listening to your moans echo in the room before he groans, loud and low, as his release lands messily on the bedsheets.

Bokuto is restless at practice the morning after, and everyone knows this because his performance was downright terrible. On the rare occasions when he did score a point, there was no hey, hey, hey, no burst of confidence, no nothing.

There had been days on end where the team would have done anything short of murder to shut Bokuto up, but now that he had, they had no idea what to do. Well, except Atsumu, of course. The setter sauntered over, his lips stretched into a cocky smirk. “Bokkun, what are ya mopin’ about for? Did yer girlfriend leave ya all needy?”

Bokuto grumbled sourly at the blonde before promptly turning away. “I’m not moping.” And when Atsumu raises an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue, Bokuto only sighs and leans back on his elbows. Surprisingly, that’s all the setter needs to understand the situation and begins to laugh.

The entire situation is infuriatingly unfair, especially since it was, in fact, Atsumu who had drilled in the idea of having sex in semi-public places. Bokuto usually didn’t care to listen to the gossip of others much, unless it was related to volleyball or you. During the training camp, the blond setter had been describing how hot it was to do it in a semi-public place where there was a high chance of getting caught, much to Kiyoomi’s chagrin. Bokuto genuinely cannot bring himself to care because obviously sex feels good all the time, so why would doing it outside make it any different? Atsumu had just tutted when Bokuto explained this to him before asking him about you, and that definitely got his attention.

“Bokkun, do ya know what kinks yer girlfriend has?”

“She doesn’t have any,” Bokuto’s response had been immediate, and Atsumu just stared, wondering if the hyperactive male was just pulling his leg. But he wasn’t - Bokuto genuinely knew you didn’t have any because of course you would tell him as soon as you discovered one, right?

“She seriously never told ya?”

“Maybe she just doesn’t know.”

Atsumu had spluttered indignantly to his excuse, equal parts horrified and insulted that Bokuto could even think about suggesting such a thing.

Needless to say, ever since then, Bokuto has been trying to find out more of the things that make you tick in bed. He’d already found two last night, and his body was already tense, eager to find out more today. Especially since you said you’d be visiting after handing back all the papers to your students. They all wrapped up practice, with Meian giving Bokuto extra laps around the gym. By the time he had finished the required amount, Hinata and Meian were about to leave but had stopped to greet you for a few minutes. The sight of you leaning against the door, your lips pulled up into a soft smile filled him with restless energy and he took a swig of his water before making his way to you.

“Hey, hey, hey!” His voice booms, echoing off the walls and you swivel around to grin at him. There is a collective sigh of relief from the other members as they leave the court gym and he sees the way your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He practically sprints to you and pulls you into a bear hug. He knows he’s sweating and that he probably stinks, but that all takes a back seat as your arms come around to wrap around his waist as you breathe in the feel of him. “Are you feeling better?”

You nod and lean up, puckering your lips to give him a short kiss, and his heart squeezes before he leans down to meet your lips halfway. When you pull back, your face is flushed, and you lean forward to whisper in his ear. “I’m sorry about last night. I’m all better today, we can go wherever you want and do whatever you feel like,”

His golden eyes glint dangerously under the low lighting of the hall, and you immediately know that you’re in trouble. “Now?”

He can see the way your breath hitches and throat constricts as you let out a little whimper. Your voice reaches a higher octave as you whisper out a “Now?” and he suddenly wishes that he could drag you to the locker room in front of everyone. He realises with a start that Atsumu had been right all along and expects the fact to rub him the wrong way, but the thought is pushed to the back as you let out a timid nod.

That’s all he needs. He drags you into the locker room, too impatient to bother with the intricacies of the lock. Everyone had gone home anyway, so what did it even matter? As soon as he sits down, you push his thighs apart and situation yourself between them. Your hands fly to the hem of his gym shorts as you gaze up at him, and the whisper of friction that your fingers provide already has his cock swelling in his boxers.

The first contact your tongue made with his cock has him hardening even further as he sinks his fingers into your hair. He can’t take his eyes off the way your hot tongue glides up the curve of his dick before swirling around the tip and-

“Fuck. Fuck. Wait, baby-Don’t-”

You take him into your mouth, one hand softly massaging his balls, and all the protests die in his throat almost instantly. He chokes at the sight of you on your knees and your pretty, pretty mouth stretched around his fat cock. There are tears forming at the corner of your eyes as you struggle to take him in any further, and there’s nothing in the word that could make him look away. He thrusts his hips up only slightly, taking you off guard and forcing more of his length into your mouth as you gag around his size.

You make a sound at the back of your throat as you drool around his cock, and it sends waves of vibrations throughout his length. Bokuto eases out of your mouth, and the stark coldness that hits the sensitive skin has him hardening even further. “You did so good, puppy,” he pants out his praise and comes up behind you before he pushes you forward so that you’re on your hands and knees. You’re such a pretty sight that he has to stop himself from entering you straight away. “Are you comfortable, babe? Think you can take it like this?”

You nod vigorously and hold his gaze through the mirror. The head of his cock is leaking and angry, and he’s half tempted to bury himself balls deep inside you without warning. But the moment he pushes the tip inside your wet heat, you arch your back, and his hips jerked forward, craving the way your slick walls spammed around his length.

“S-Shit—” Bokuto grits out, relishing the way the unmistakable sound of your arousal squelching around his cock echoes in the locker room. “God, you’re so fucking messy- baby, I can’t—” his words end on a whine and tries to push himself further inside you, his hands going to grip your hair to wrap it around his fingers.

There’s a low guttural moan from you, and when he looks up, his gut clenches at the sight of your thoroughly fucked face. He wants to commit it all to memory - the way your tongue lolls out while your eyes roll to the back of your head as you cry out for him because he’s the only one who can make you feel like this. He pulls at your hair slightly and immediately feels you clench around him.

He does it again, harder.

Your whimpers thunder in his ears, and he leans forward until he has you completely underneath him, chest grazing the back of your shoulders as he braces his entire weight on his arm. His tongue and teeth are relentless on the flushed tips of your ear, laving the sensitive skin before nipping it harshly as he thrusts into you. “You’re such a pretty puppy, aren’t you? Fucked dumb and drooling on my cock,”

You sob at this, your words slurring. “K-Kou, s’close—” His thrusts become short and fast, reaching deeper as your walls dragging along his cock deliciously. The way you’re needy heat is sucking him in leaves him breathless, his hips stuttering with effort as he struggles to go faster and faster and—

Your walls flutter around his girth, clenching down and squeezing so tightly that he can’t help but arch his back, hands gripping your hips to bring you closer, the curve of your ass flush against his abs. He ruts into you harshly, trying to fuck you through your orgasm, and it’s the loud slapping of skin on skin that mixes perfectly with your lewd keens that have his dick spasming and finally sends him over the edge.

For a moment, all he can hear are the heavy breathing as you both try to catch your breaths, skin slick and glistening with sweat, but then his ears perk up at the telltale whisper of footsteps shuffling. Somewhere, right outside the door, a broomstick topples over something, and he swears he can hear the hushed bickering of Atsumu and Kiyoomi.

Thank you for reading :)

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cornacopicimagines · 4 years

Text

A Rose Blooms │t.h

pairing: prince!tom holland x princess!reader

words: 8.4k (WHOOPS)

warnings: arranged marriage, SMUT (we been knew), slight praise kink and 10000% breeding kink, therefore unprotected sex, swearing, slight cockwarming & good lord there is so much

summary: Perhaps God does have a sick sense of humour. To allow such misguided souls to one another. Souls that shouldn't be allowed to feel the sense of happiness he can provide, that should accept their dire situations. The Prince of Wales and his new bride can attest to the quite well.

a/n: what do y'all mean a historical prince au!tom holland with major smut and breeding kink is not a thing. i know the sluts want it, even if they never ask for it. i must provide it.

masterlist

━━★✼☆｡

y/n of Burgundy was a splendid piece of artwork. A sweet and humble French Princess with a huge dowry and a bright future. It was as if DaVinci had casted the girl from Venus's shadow and gifted the baby to displeased parents. Parents who so wished for a boy, that the arrival of a healthy girl is so overlooked that the girl is better off dead. The sadness is heard across not only France but the entirety of Europe. Poor y/n of Burgundy! The Unlucky Princess of Burgundy! It's all she hears; she is deemed a tragedy before her life is even written. Perhaps that is her greatest misdeed in this life, that because she is born the wrong sex to what is expected she is casted to the side as a woman destined for slight and anguish for her entire life. Even if this is the case, y/n wished to think of herself as unwritten for the moment being. A woman waiting for a calling no matter how big or small. A woman who's only current wish to sit atop this windowsill, letting the cool September French breeze kiss her flushed cheeks. Alas, even this is stripped from her.

"Get off the window, y/n!" her mother's shrill voice shrieks as The Duchess yanks y/n to the floor. It's harsh and frantic, as if an arrow is to fly through and hit her. Her tightly coiled chest hit's the wooden floor hard. It knocks the only wind y/n really has left, a wasteful shame.

"I am sorry mama," y/n responds quietly, her hands desperately pat to find a piece of wood that will not cut up into her as she attempts to regain her balance. Though her room is filled with four maids not a single one offers their own hand to help her. She knows it is because of her mother's cowl. If they dare so move in a direction towards her, The Duchess will become a Fury of Hell himself.

"The breeze is so sweet at this time of afternoon." Finally, y/n does place her feet back on the floor with a small clack of her heels. She takes a moment to take in the state of her gown. While she has countless others, something about the pure white of the satin being destroyed by the inevitable dust that has collected is disheartening even to her. The pattern of bright red roses now looks more of a dull blood grey than a true flower.

"The breeze is something so frivolous my dear," The Duchess is suddenly content with her surroundings. "Busy yourself with something more intelligent, it makes for a much better bride."

"Thank you for the wise advice mother," y/n snaps, her fingers gripping the ruined material of her gown. "I'll be sure to not engage myself in something that gives me the slightest bit of freedom in the lifeless castle," it was no louder than a whisper. Her braided hair still muffling the sounds.

As if her words seemed to not even reach her, The Duchess mumbles in agreement before taking her leave. The door shutting loudly behind her, the air was finally safe to breathe. The maids immediately begin to swarm her. Like flies to honey; they grapple her, prod at her and pinch her. It was too much. It was as if a million ants had swarmed her body, nipping at any piece of flesh they could just because it was what they were meant to do. An instinctive need to draw more blood than necessary, it was overwhelming. They inspected her perfectly capable hands, wondering if their incompetence has cost them their heads because y/n of Brittany split her blood and The Duchess refused to let them help. She was suffocating.

She didn't mean for it to slip, it just did. Her voice raised, "Get out." It was softer at first. "Get out," they still didn't move, still abusing her. "I said get out!" Everything stopped for a moment, the air her mother had ensued had now come back. The maids all took a single step away from her. y/n felt the tears threaten her, warning by dancing across her lower lashes. "Do none of you listen, get out for Christ’s sake!" That's all it took, in a matter of seconds y/n was finally alone. She could hear the faint song of the trees whispering to her, it was calm, but she couldn't appreciate it. She dropped to her knees and began to softly weep into her palms. The groans muffled by the skin of her hands and the tears halted from falling by her fingers. In this moment and forever ahead of her, she was desolate.

But like all things, even this bleak minute of sorrow was cut to an end by the deafening sound of her father's boots storming down the hallways towards her room.

━━★✼☆｡

Tom spectated as the pole shattered into a thousand pieces. The splinters hitting ever edge of the arena. He watched as the knight fell limp and as his horse rode on through the chaos. The young prince roared out of his seat, his knees hitting the harsh wood of the royal box. His name echoed on the young knight's medallion above his breast. He had picked the winning side and rightfully so, Sir Harrison had never been defeated. For a moment, Tom turned around to face his beaming mother. A woman who loved the games, Tom always relied on his mother to accompany him to these festivities but his father. The Prince would always ask graciously but was refused every time. Constantly belittled for the consul of old men with a working cock between them, it was a joke. The King had many failed efforts to rile the English people to cause, Tom had offered a large gathering to help inspire the people. The King told his son this would cause nothing but useless panic and many painful deaths. Scoffing, Tom waltzed back to his seat. It was uncomfortable, it felt as if ants hand made their nets below the seat's support. He wished to ride alongside them.

"You cannot and you will not," The Queen smiled at him, waving to squires as they led the horses away. Tom's head swivelled around to meet his mother's. "I refuse it my son."

"I had said nothing mother," Tom replied quietly, he too doing his duty to the lower noble men who had come out today. Each one sweatier than the last. "Perhaps you are hearing things, 10 childbirths can change a woman's mind," Tom stifled a laugh, too which he received a slap on the arm for.

"Don't play smart with me son," The Queen spoke coolly, her countless rings clanged as she rose from her seat. Tom followed suit, allowing a hand for his now middle-aged mother for gracious help down the impossibly large stairs. "I almost lost your father to one of these silly little cock shows, I will not go through it with you my boy."

Tom raised an eyebrow, watching his mother's golden trim become bleaker by the stain of the grass. "I had half a mind to believe you enjoyed these silly little cock shows," Tom played. The Queen peered up at his through hooded lids. It was dangerous waters even for him, a man who has seen the blood of war. He allowed his mother and her ladies to return to Windsor, watching as if to wait for the shark to disappear.

"Your Royal Highness, if I may have a word," a soft voice called out from below the podium. Tom paced to the edge and stared down. Constance, he thought to himself as he smiled wickedly. She was a short and mildly plump woman, with wild unruly hair that had to be constantly shoved out of her face. He remembers her name because of how sweet his name sounded dripping from her tongue. Countless nights spent in the throes of passion, wearing moonlight as cloth. Tom knew he had dishonoured her just by bedding her, but he couldn't help himself. She was the first woman who really took an interest in him. Still, he had to come to her aid on multiple occasions. While he likes the way, she grips at his biceps, he however, doesn't like when her father comes storming into court demanding his daughter's honour back because Tom had prayed on her. Perhaps, it was the odd lack of ladies that would flock to his side or maybe it was simply because he wanted a little bit of fun before the inevitable.

"You may, my Lady," Tom smiled widely making his way to her side. He could tell the mud was ruining the polished leather of his boots, he completely forgot about his favourite riding boots he had put on in hopes that he may indulge himself in the sports. Still, he pushed the though deep down at met her eyes. He not an unusually tall man but the way he almost dwarfed her was delectable. As he watched her squirm, he wondered as to why she would speak with him where anyone could see. There was no danger for him, but the world's eyes were on her.

She played with the small ring on her pinkie finger, riding it up and down the skin. "Why did you not tell me," she whispered, refusing to look up at him. Tears began to well.

"What on earth do you mean?" He queered, genuinely curious as to what had got her all worked up. His hands went to stroke her cheek gently, but she abruptly pulled away from him. This time her eyes did meet his, the salty liquid glossed over her eyes.

"It is bad enough that I am called the Prince's Whore but now they are cursing my name because I have ruined the royal couple!" she cried out, her deep green dress swallowing the mud below. "That a stupid maid slut has stolen you away from the beautiful French Princess!"

Tom saw nothing but red. Not because of Constance but because of what she said to him. He had begged his parents to let him choose his own wife. If he was to rule England after his father's passing, he wished to at least have a woman whom he truly loved by his side. He said nothing to her as he stormed away. The small drizzle of rain hitting his skin as he picked up his speed. He knew that his father was in a council meeting alongside his mother. Perfect opportunity to unleash his rage. He faintly heard her calling after him, that was muffled by the buzzing in his ears.

He had been told who he was meant to be and what he was meant to be from the moment he was born. Hardly ever seeing his mother or younger brothers because he was eldest, never knowing true companionship because he would be constantly cooped up listening to his advisors and tutors as they taught him the art of war and foreign policies. This was his one chance to spend his life with a woman who understood him and would grow a loving family much in contrast to what he had.

His hands pushed the heavy wooden doors, they hit the walls with a large smack. The entire council stood for the Prince, with the exception of his mother and sickly father. He walked past them with ease and took his seat at the opposite end of table. His eyes focused solely on his father as he absently noted the appearance of his son.

"Wonderful of you to finally join us," The Duke of Essex smiled weakly, in any attempt to deflect the tension elsewhere.

"When were you going to tell me?" Tom spoke, his voice barely above a whisper and laced with venom. His elbows digging into the cool wood of granite of the table. He watched his father finally face him; the man was a wreck. His greying hair stuck to his hair with copious amounts of sweat, his brown eyes had sunk deadly back into the sockets and his skin was pale and filled with wrinkles. "When were you going to tell me father?"

"You were spending too much time with that scullery maid," The King respond calmly, still flipping through royal documents. Tom was on the verge of an explosion. If the Prince was known for something, it was his anger. Much like Mount Vesuvius, he didn't get angry often, he hated how it affect those around him. The times he is pushed to the breaking point however, he was destroy everything in his path. "We had to put an end to it."

"We?" Tom pushed.

"Your mother made the arrangements; she is being brought here as we speak." Once more, the King had no interest with the devastated look on the Prince's face. Too caught up in an attempt to stile a cough.

"You promised me my own choice of bride," Tom seethed. He faced his mother, if the King wouldn't listen perhaps the Queen would.

His mother sighed; the silk of her sleeves draped over the arms of the chair. "That was before you had instinctively made the choice, we hoped that perhaps you would have fallen for the daughter of a Duke or at worst an Earl. You were going to marry that girl, after everything her family has done against the court. We couldn't allow it."

Tom jaw clicked. "Who is she?" He was done arguing, done protesting.

"You'll marry the granddaughter of the French King; y/n of Burgundy," his father spoke up before his mother could sugar coat it. "The family sent a portrait of the girl as the first payment of her dowry; it has already been placed in your room. Hopefully, you can find the slightest bit of attraction for your new bride before the wedding."

"Will I get to meet her beforehand?" He at least hoped to see the girl with his own eyes before calling her his wife. Finally, the King met his eyes. He dropped the quill on the desk as locked his eyes, leaning towards him.

"Did you really think you'd get that luxury?"

━━★✼☆｡

The sea breeze prickled at y/n skin as she sat atop the deck. She could tell they were getting closer. The wind went from a soft tone to a howling scream, something her great aunt had told her all about. English weather could go from a perfect sunny day to god's worst mood. In all honesty, she preferred it to French. It was wild and unpredictable, something she so desperately needed.

She remembered how she got into this predicament as she lay down a 9 ace on the table. Waiting for the ship to land.

"You'll leave tomorrow, it will take you a good couple of days to get there." Her father exclaimed, picking a raspberry from the plate and eating the sweet fruit. y/n stood in silence, still reeling her tears back into her eyes. She refused to weep in front of the Duke. She moved around the large room, in order to hear his words. "You'll make a fine queen," he smiled, placing his hands atop her cheeks. y/n smiled warmly before raising a concern.

"How do you know this will be different than the last?" she asked quietly, staring down at her shoes. Her father sighs before picked his coat up from the chair.

y/n placed her bets, her hand is exquisite. Three queen and a pair of Kings. If she doesn't win, it's as if God is going against her. The men that sit beside her raise their brows in confusion. She's not backing down.

"Because, you know their language and their culture from Great Aunt Mary. You were her favourite after all," her father tells her, the memory of the old lady teaching her English brings a curve to her lips. That was not the answer she was looking for, however. Her father knows it as well, he knows the answer she wants but he cannot give it to her. "Trust me pumpkin," the endearment is wonderful. Unlike her mother, y/n's father has always been kind to her. She doesn't know if it because she is his eldest daughter or because her brother is a lousy boy and she is the only child with a head still attached to her shoulder blades.

She releases her tension; she knows whatever comes out of this she must go along with it. She must accept whatever situation is handed to her and accept her duty as a future queen and mother to the English Throne.

y/n squeals, her hand's won. The rest of the chips are placed in her corner, she is asking if they want to go another round but instead, they all huff and walk away from her. y/n feels her heart sink into her stomach. Perhaps the English wind has turned their moods sour. Soon enough her worries are washed away as the boat docks into Brighton and y/n hears the cheers for her. She can't exactly make out what they are saying. Sadly, she doesn't get a chance to even greet her new subjects as her new English ladies are gently pushing her towards the carriage. The only thing she can do is wave and smile at them, hoping to instil a fraction of hope for the new royal couple. As she steps into the carriage, a huge white dress follows her. The abundance of ladies and herself are stuck in the cramped space for a little over an hour before they start agreeing to change her dress into the one being coddled.

"Why? This is dress is perfect as it is," y/n laughed gently, her fingers playing with the pearls that lace the neckline.

"Forgive me, my lady, but His Majesty; The King has requested that you wear a white gown." One of the younger girls pipes up. Sighing, y/n nods her head to agree and goes to stop the carriage.

While they don't completely undress her, she knows that the smock under her dress is shear and leave nothing to the imagination. Quickly they strip her of the current dress, even unlacing the corset before adding another one. As they place the soft silk of her veil over her head, she can hear the ringing bells at Westminster. It hasn't completely dawned on her what she is exactly going through. Marrying a man she has never met. Marrying a man for all she knows could be a tyrant. She's heard quite a few English Monarchs fall under that said category. Her heart started to jump now; she could fell the beat thump against her vocal box.

The people began to line the city. Countless bodies waved at her as she strolled through the city of London. The abbey somehow seemed ten times bigger in person. White rose petals fell through the air as the coachman opened the door for her. The walkway was paved with red velvet. Her heels felt as though she was ruining the beautiful material as she walked.

Tom can physically hear her pounding heartbeat from where he stands. He can't exactly make out her face, but he can see the white gown strutting towards him. It's the same patterns as the dress his mother wore more than 20 years ago. He's seen it in countless paintings, his mother scowling as she attempts to salvage any positive thing out of such tremendous pain. Harrison lays a hand on his shoulder; the contact makes him jump.

"I heard she looks like a siren," he joked, dusting a small particle of fluff off Tom's shoulder. "Perhaps she'll sound like one too," the comment was enough to grant the knight a hard whack on his arm from the Prince. He truly did wonder if she would as beautiful as the painting which depicted her. A small red rose for his house in her fingertips as she grinned softly. It was as if she was staring into his soul.

Tom reached out to allow her aid in getting up the stairs. She graciously accepted muttering a small thank you as her other hand lifted the countless layers of fabric to mend her steps. Her touch was soft, something he wasn't used to. The gentle touch of a noble woman, even if it was only upon his fingers. The entirety of Westminster Abbey went silent as the faced each other.

y/n could barely hear anything over her rampant anxiety. Though she was eased slightly as she blindly grasped at his fingers, she was afraid she gripped a little too tightly. Finally, she stood in front of him. The gown dipping down the stairs to end in her ladies' hands. She wondered what she looked like to him. Wondering if it was a glorious sight to witness a new bride waltzing towards him. Or if it was one of dread, to be in holy matrimony with someone you've just met for the first time. She's still trying to decide between the two.

The ceremony was beautiful. A simply yet elegant affair, as two young royals wed. She knows that she is marrying the Prince of Wales, a worthy husband for any noble woman. Yet she can't help the dread that builds as the Archbishop drones on. The hymns falling deaf ears. She tries to pay attention, but she can’t, all she can hear is the drumming of her heartbeat. It pounds against her ribs, creating echoes in her head. Before she knows it, his hands reach for hers. There was no strength in his grip unlike beforehand, it was soft and gentle. As if she was a beautiful yet delicate doll, that she would completely shatter if he pressed just that bit too hard. Their fingertips locked; her skin fell into the ridges of his knuckles.

“I proclaim thee, y/n of Burgundy to be my lawfully wedded wife from now until the end of my days,” he hesitated. She could hear it in his voice. “She shall sit beside me as I rule the kingdom.” The ring passes down her skin, the metal biting at her finger.

She repeats him. “I proclaim thee, Thomas – Prince of Wales to be my lawfully wedded husband from now until the end of my days. I shall sit beside him as he rules this beautiful country.” She smiles at the end, though she never intends to. y/n thanks her ladies that they cover her grinning face behind the thick white lace of her veil.

The entirety of Westminster Abbey is silent, no one dares even breathe as Prince Thomas coils his fingers around the tipping of the lace. He lifts it over his now wife’s face. He taken aback slightly. The painter wasn’t paid enough, clearly. She was even more beautiful standing in front of him. The same clear complexion now glistening in the soft sunlight of England. He doesn’t pry of course; it would be rude of him. Just to stare at his bride, as if they were the only people in the hall. Good lord, does he wish it was.

His hands reach her cheeks. Tender once more, he brings her forward. She shifts on her feet as they meet. A quaint and soft kiss, unlike anything either of them has felt ever. He can’t remember the last time, it was this – well, gentle. Thomas doubts he has ever kissed a woman of such luxury in his entire life up to this point. y/n is the first to pull away, her fingers resting lightly on his raised wrists. Their eyes meet for a moment, a short moment.

Westminster Abbey erupts into celebration. Red rose petals fall from the ceiling and music begins to flood the area.

As she stared around, y/n began to think to herself. I do not know what will come out of this, but I already can see that joy my presence brings to these people. I shall not let them down.

Prince Thomas of England, Heir to The English Throne and y/n of Burgundy, Granddaughter of The French King had been wed. They were now locked in holy matrimony, a feeling unlike any other. Both horrendous and hospitable.

━━★✼☆｡

The Hall is a grand party. Laughing and singing is heard from every corner, mugs of beer and wine are flung across tables and scraps of food are being thrown to the dogs. y/n has never seen such a scene unfold. Too contained by the prudish French court. The most scandalous thing she has seen is a risqué dance meant to be for a married lover.

That is what she always despised about the French Nobility. Their secrets. Whispers and Rumours spread faster than fire. If you had committed some heinous act, the entirety of France will hear about it by the end of the week. Perhaps that is another reason why she felt so trapped in Burgundy. y/n could never do a single task on her own before her ladies’ loose tongue would find their way back to her mother. A delicate little flower, such a waste of potential.

Tom noticed her prodding, her fork twirling the few peas left on her plate. He hadn’t said a word to her all night and yet he looks at her if she’s unwillingly to speak. Does she know any basic English? Perhaps not.

“How are you liking the food,” Tom asked her, leaning into her. She smiled up at him, he spoke to her in French. It made her heart swell for a second. y/n turns to face him, smiling warmly. Tom wishes he could keep that smile forever.

“It’s is very well Your Grace,” y/n replies to him. Her flawless English rolling off her tongue with a petite French accent. It’s like heaven to his ears and he’s taken aback. “My Great Aunt was an English Countess, I loved her very much. I was fluent in English before I was 8.” She explained, almost as if she had read his mind.

“You need not call me Your Grace,” he teased, it was somewhat natural for him.

“Then what shall I call you?” y/n queered.

“I am your husband now, whatever pleases you pleases me,” Tom replied, turning back to his empty plate in an effort to hide the rising red flush on his face. y/n knew she should leave it at that, so she turned her attention elsewhere.

“Are royal weddings usually this,” she paused, “loud?”

Tom laughed quietly, he too turned to face the ruckus crowd. Men laying in the laps of maids, dogs feasting over food that had been flung across the floor. Loud chants to the beat of the music filled the hall. He would have been completely embarrassed by the state of his people in front of his new bride, if he hadn’t seen the amused look on her face. “Not usually, I have only been to one other wedding and that was extremely sombre.”

“How so?” she asked, sipping from the freshly poured wine.

“I went to my uncle’s wedding a few months ago. He had also married a noble woman like yourself, but the poor thing was only 11. My uncle was 35 and counting.” He wishes it was different but like all things in this world, he is powerless to the wills of those who think they are higher than others.

He peered at her; y/n was already looking at him. An eyebrow and a lip raised in disgust. It was quaint.

“I wish I could be more repulsed by that,” Tom wondered if she was joking or if she was serious. He couldn’t tell just by the use of her tone. He did however note her wit. Something he so longed for. They talked for hours, sitting by one another and discussing anything that arrived at the conversation. Tom can’t decide whether it’s her honey-like voice or her banter but it’s making him feel things no one should for someone they are being forced to wed.

Just while they are comparing the contrasting jousting techniques, the joyful music suddenly stops. It’s a quick snap and the entire hall is now dead quiet. The Earl of Salisbury mounts himself on one of the tables. His cheeks red with drunkenness.

The Earl points directly at y/n and Tom as they sit in confusion. “The final tradition, an honour for any noble man. The Great Bedding!”

y/n turns to Tom, clinging slightly to his sleeve. He takes immediate notice. “Thomas, what is The Great Bedding?” There was great concern in her voice as she watched all of the men rush towards them. He didn’t get to answer as the women abruptly hauled him out of his seat and down the hall, away from her.

y/n didn’t fear too well either. At least a dozen grimy hands placed themselves all over her body, pulling harshly as they brought her into the air. Dancing her down the halls. She constantly whacked their hands, to no avail of course. They only dropped her once they got to a dimly lit room.

It was already buzzing with people. Hustling around a single bed, covered by finely woven silk. The men dropped her gently, placing her feet against the ground. y/n tried to turn around to give them a piece of her mind but was stopped as her corset began to become loose around her waist. Incredibly uncomfortable, y/n looked up to distract herself in any regard and found Tom at the other side. The maid’s hands undoing every buckle of his coat, tiny fingers unthreading the lavish ropes across his body. y/n blushed at the sight.

Tom was trying his hardest not to look at her, not to stare as countless men of the court undressing her. He could hear the bulky wedding dress hit the floor of the room, he could feel her eyes on him, and he could see the variety of unknown nobles swarming them in any hopes to achieve the right to gossip tomorrow morning. It was despicable.

He climbed in first, the cotton of the blankets itching his skin as he settled. The only comfort he found was in the softness in his unkempt hair. Not restricted by the gel he was forced to wear.

y/n slowly followed his lead, it was dead silent. No one dared breathed as the new Princess of Wales found her spot next to The Prince. All the while, the exact same priest Archbishop chanted away, and priests flung holy water at the bed. Some of the liquid found itself on her skin. Finally, the crowd bowed to the couple and began to take their leave.

Tom watched in peace; he would be alone. He closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh, perhaps he would be able to get some well needed sleep. That seemed achievable until he felt a cold grasp around his wrist. His eyes shot open to find his father’s glare directly at him. “Don’t let the spring pass, I hope to see a grandson in the next few months,” The King spat.

It had been hours since the quarry of guests had left the room but the the monarch’s words etched themselves into his mind. Echoing nonstop, getting wilder as Tom felt y/n settle herself next to him. The mere presence of her alongside the duty he had to fulfil was too much for him. Tom shot up and quickly gathered his things, hauling his boots and clothes. He couldn’t be near her for another moment, too afraid of what he might do if she was subject to this sort of cruel punishment. Tom quickly decided he was sleep next door, just far away to have the thoughts no longer plague his mind but not too far that he would impose the wrong meaning on her. He reached for the door when she chimed in.

“Where are you going?”

He halted instantly. He wished that they could have gotten along like most royal couples should. A cold and initially distant meeting, then hopefully something would blossom over the years. Instead they had gotten along quite well, too well in fact. He was used to going slowly, taking his time in bedding a girl. A constant glaze over the court every few days, then promiscuous banter and in the span of months he would have her melt in his hand with a simple word. Now, he was feeling flustered and out of control and all of it was happening over a single night. Tom pressed his forehead against the wood, taking a deep breath. He turned to look at her, just like a painting coming to life. Her hair was down, unlike anything he had ever seen. Not grimed with sweat and dirt nor was it pinned underneath a headdress or away from her face. This time, the soft curls framed it. The nightgown clung to her shoulders; the fabric dangerously close to falling off. It made his life that much more difficult.

“I am sorry. You are a beautiful woman, but I just cannot fulfil the expectations that are placed upon me tonight. I will be sleeping in the room next door if you need me,” Tom blurted out. He waited for a response before he could speed out. She sat there, like a perfectly sculpted statue. It was torture.

y/n sighed, “nothing has to happen tonight.”

“But they will ask, they will pry like they always will,” he countered.

“Who says we have to tell the truth?” y/n giggled. God, it was a symphony to him. Tom watched her leave the bed, waltzing around to meet with him at the door. He wanted the tell her to stay exactly where she is, not to move even an inch closer but with ever step she took, his breath hitched higher in his throat. “I would prefer to spend the first night of my marriage with my husband, whether something happens or not.”

He swallowed thickly, “you are incredibly calm.” He now met her, his full attention on y/n as she chuckled in delight.

“I am filled to the brim with anxiety, just not that same fear that you are feeling,” she told him as she sat down the small longue in the middle of the room. She took the wine from the table and poured each of them a glass. Tom was hesitant at first, still wishing to flee the room and into the safety of his own solitary. Still, he found himself pacing towards her. Taking soft and flinching steps until he sat beside her.

“Then what is the fear?” He took the other glass, quickly chugging the alcohol. y/n said nothing but just stared at him in confusion. “The fear you feel, why?”

It was now her turn to become flustered. He looked genuinely curious as to why she was feeling doubtful, but she was unsure if he truly wanted to know the answer. Her father made her promise never to speak of it to anyone, a shameful secret that would ruin her future if it was released. But Tom was now her husband. They were bonded by law, a thought she really didn’t wish to dwell on. Surely, whatever she told him wouldn’t cause them any stress? Still, it would be rude of her not to tell him the reason after he had just clearly demonstrated his own fears in the commitment. “You must promise not to become angry.”

Tom nodded his head gently, even more intrigued then he was before.

y/n quietly exhaled, avoiding looking at Tom. “I was married once before, he passed from the sickness 3 months into our matrimony. Perhaps it was God way of guiding me to a better future, but it ruined almost everything. His death caused create strain for my family as they attempt to rebuild myself as if I was not capable of it myself. I am terrified that I am cursed, that I shall find myself falling in love with you only to be weeping over your coffin months later.” She had poured her soul out, shared such a personal section of her life. She was ashamed to see his face. Too afraid that pure anger and disgust would paint his face.

“Who was he? The man whom you had married?” Tom asked her again. His voice calling out as she stared directly at the purple velvet beneath her dress.

“The Prince of Spain,” y/n squeaked.

“That inbred!” Tom joked, suddenly becoming relaxed by the mere mention of the Spanish Royal Family. “I am surprised you got three months and not three days, that kid was on death doors for his entire life,” Tom was now in a fit of laughter. It wasn’t directed to her but more that they allowed such a beautiful woman to be the wife of such a dull man. y/n peered up, thoroughly embarrassed as she gave him a light whack. Tom finally came down from his laughing fit, staring directly at her. “You are cursed Princess; you are just coddled. Forced into a life clearly not meant for someone like yourself.”

The mere mention of the cradling of her life got y/n riled up, “that’s another thing! The Spanish constantly treated me as if I was some porcelain doll ready to shatter if they dared even look at me! I felt like a child trapped in a woman’s body and he touched me like that as well. God, I was finally ready to truly live my life and then he just was too soft, I wanted something much mor-” Oh. Oh God. She had run her mouth too far, dug her own grave with her rambling. Her hands clamped against her mouth as a heat rushed to her face. She could see the French ships arriving for her next month, giving her passage because she was not in pristine condition. Hopefully Tom didn’t pick up on what she was inferring.

“You aren’t a virgin?” his voice was quiet, almost dark. She felt her entire world shatter. Tom scooted towards her slowly, it was completely unnoticed. She was too deep in panic to recognise the growing flirt rising in the Prince of Wales. y/n shook her head feverously. “That little tick took you?” When he put it like that, it made her stomach tingle. She had never heard such a sentence used in that tone. She was drowning in thoughts.

“I didn’t know what I was doing, that’s why I was so unsatisfied,” she tried to explain, her hands now bunched up the fabric against her knees. “He was just so soft, too soft and I wished he would have-”

“Would have what?” he toyed. Tom doesn’t quite know why he was acting like this. So intent on prying her little secrets out of her. Usually, he would have just simply got straight to the point but now, seeing her become red with frustration was a view causing him great pleasure. Any abstinence he hoped to place upon himself earlier in the night had been thrown out the window. He finally felt back in control, something he longed for. Something she was serving to him on a silver platter.

“I..” she began but the words got caught in her throat. Her tongue stopped completely, almost refusing to finish the damning sentence. She wanted him to be rougher with her, she wanted him to treat her like a woman and not a girl. “What happen to you wishing to keep your hands to yourself?” She attempted to change the topic, trying to flee but to no avail as he quickly caught her wrist in his palms. Their skins igniting on sight.

“Don’t try to change the subject Princess,” he purred, standing up to meet with her at the side of the bed. Her title now held a completely different meaning, it wasn’t being used to describe her. It was being used to utterly destroy her; a nickname only meant to be whispered in the dim light of a dozen candles. “I can see right through you,” Tom’s calloused fingers met the loose fabric on her shoulders, dancing over her collarbone. It was soft but held meaning. “I can see that you wished he touched you differently. Touched you like a real woman, rougher and passionate.”

His words were damned. She should feel ashamed that she was feeling light-headed just by the grazing touch of his fingers above her perked breasts. “Yes,” it was the only thing she could get out. The only single three lettered word that allowed itself out of her mouth. Tom pressed his lips to her neck, underneath her jaw.

“Perhaps, he too was inexperienced.” He spoke through small pecks. “Allow me to show you something different, something better,” it was barely above a whisper, but y/n heard every word. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair as he peered at her.

“I would enjoy that very much,” y/n responded just as quiet, all the gentle touches he currently had placed upon her turned darker. He pulled her into his embrace quickly before tripping her feet from under her and ending atop her on the messily made bed. His hand instantly found the inside of her thigh, his finger bruising her skin. It was delightfully, the slight pain sending shivers down her spine.

Their lips met, gentle at first. Her hands moulding themselves against his jaw, moaning into his mouth as he pushed her deeper into the mattress. She wished she could stay like this forever, wrapping in Tom’s embrace as they mended together. Alas, he pulled away from her. Lips separating with a small pop and a soft whine from y/n underneath him. Tom took a distinct look at her; she was sprawled out and whimpering for something more. Did she give this look to him as well? Did she use the melody that was her voice to beg him to do anything? Tom didn’t particularly wish to replay the thought in his head but yet, he couldn’t help himself.

Her nightgown quickly found itself discarded; her nipples perked in the cold. His lips immediately latched on, massaging the soft tissue. He never knew something could feel this smooth, without any flaws or imperfections. Even though he knew he could spend an entire night between the valley of her tits, he too longed for something more.

In a matter of moments, he found himself staring directly at her sex. A glorious sight to behold, glistening with her arousal in the pale moonlight. She was practically dripping onto the sheets below her. He placed a soft kiss to her pelvis, she jumped at the contact. “If you feel uncomfortable, you need to tell me,” he told her all the while his fingers toyed at her hot hole. Dipping even so slightly into her heat. She was already in euphoria just from the slightest bit of pleasure. y/n nodded her head before locking eyes with him.

He didn’t waste another second, quickly licking a fat stripe through her folds. The taste was pure heaven, he didn’t give her a moment to register the feeling before diving right back into her juices. Sucking and pulling at her, wasting the night away feeling her thighs clamp around his head every time he flicked her clit coupled with a singular finger prancing in and out of her.

y/n wasn’t quite sure how loud she could truly be. She knew that even though they were in the far south-east of the castle, there could be a dozen scullery maids listening right outside the door. Or if someone was trying to achieve some sleep right beside them. At this very moment though, with Tom’s head in between her thighs devouring every inch of her throbbing cunt, she couldn’t give a single fuck. y/n allowed the string of curses and praised to tumble from her lips as she clasped onto the bed sheets for dear life.

“Such a dirty mouth,” Tom remarked, releasing her for a few seconds, “for such a pretty and delicious pussy.” He chuckled darkly. y/n wanted to bite back at him, but she was cut short but the addition of another of his digits sliding into her tight entrance. y/n clasped down hard on her hand. A foreign feeling began to drive itself into her stomach. While unusual, it was not at all exotic to her. It was thrilling, feeling her walls contract around his fingers as y/n began to instinctively rock her hips against his digits.

“God,” he purred, “that’s it, make yourself cum on my fingers Princess. Let me see that gorgeous face while you do it.” Tom had now retracted his mouth from her, completely mesmerised by the way her eyes screwed shut as she reached her peak. A cacophony of beautiful and dazzling sounds stumbling out of her mouth as he felt her climax all over his hand. Such a tantalising sight for any man.

y/n was too deep in her own return that she didn’t notice the retraction of his presences from the middle of her legs. So, when he felt his hands roughly pull her to the edge of the bed, she almost choked. The exhilarating feeling of his strained cock rubbing against her drenched folds made her forget her place. Made her speak before her mind could catch up. “I want you to fulfil the expectation.” She told him, her eyes never wavering from him.

Tom halted all his movements. It was painful but he needed absolute clarity before he did anything without her reassurance. “You need to elaborate Princess,” he told her darkly. He knew exactly what she was asking of him, he knew exactly what she desired.

“I want you to come inside of me,” she spoke as if she was a different person. y/n doesn’t quite know whether it’s the shift of mood or her own personal feelings but either way, she wanted to feel their juices mix and then leak out of her. Wanted him to fill her right up to the brim until the possibility was certain.

“You want me to fuck my seed right into you?” his words were dirtier than she expected but so was he as he slid in and into her. His naval hitting hers with a loud smack. He refused to move until he had played with her just that tad bit more. y/n’s head thrashed into the sheets behind her. She was so full, never has she felt this complete in her entire life. He wasn’t even moving but she could feel every inch of him deep inside of her.

“God yes,” she whimpered. “I need it so bad,” she was going to drive Tom insane. Just by a simple sentence, he was going to lose his mind and cum right now without even doing anything.

“Want to carry my child, our own Prince or Princess,” he pulled back out of her and slammed right back in, knocking the wind out of her y/n. It was so profoundly dirty, just discussing it. It thrilled her to the very core, child-bearing was meant for women not girls. Perhaps that is why she is so drawn to the talk, the talk of something so primally feminine set her entire body on fire. She couldn’t speak a coherent sentence instead she just let out a continuous plea.

He began slow, hips rocking to find that perfect beat. He revelled in the only sounds in the room, the sound of his cock hitting the divine spot inside of her over and over again and her delirious moaning. It was a symphony he was lucky enough to hear. He wanted to hear more, listen to the pure sounds of him railing into her. So, he picked up the pace. His thrust became not only deep and harsh but fast.

God, if he could immortalise this feeling he would. The feeling of her walls constricting around him as he pounds right into her, the feeling of her legs wrapping around his constantly thrusting hips and the feeling of her sweating skin underneath his fingers as he grips for support. It’s like the Lord himself made her tight little cunt just for him.

“You’re so big,” y/n praised mindlessly. He’s never had someone say that to him without it sounding forced. It’s so raw that he can’t help but go even harder into with each praise that falls off her lips. “Fill me up, I want to feel you all inside of me.” It’s a dangerous game, she’s tapped on something so feral inside of him it hurts.

y/n wants to prop herself up and explore his body while he pounds into her, but she simply can’t. Her limbs give out with every thrust. Her entire body spasms each time he hits the perfect spot inside of her. She a moaning mess, trying to maintain any sense of normality but failing miserably. It’s a constant state of pleasure, she’s afraid that she’s lost track of time. That is until the faint, but all the desirable fit finds itself lit in the pit of her stomach.

“I’m almost there,” she whispers, it’s the only thing she can get out. His thrusts, that once had gained a steady and harsh rhythm are now falling. He’s losing focus with each grip he receives. With her words though, he gives her the final stretch. No longer does he has some form of structure but instead he’s just railing her like a wild animal.

It’s an explosion and neither knows why but it’s addictive. y/n climaxes around him, her toes curling as her final orgasm hits her long and violent. Shaking underneath, him as she unknowingly milks his own finish out of him. Tom’s fucking his cum right into her, he doesn’t stop for a second. Too focused on the goal ahead of him. Placing it where it counts. It’s a feeling he wants to never forget, better yet it’s a sight he wants permanently etched into his memories. As he pulls out of her, their climaxes tumble out of her. Dripping down her leg.

“Hold your legs up Princess,” he teases as he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “I heard it works wonders.”

The rose blooms only for those who care properly for her.

━━★✼☆｡

a/n: please don’t flop, omg this is so long and no one asked for this shit. please don’t flop chile 🤡

3K notes · View notes

orange-waterfalls · 4 years

Text

Reader w/ wings headcanons(Markiplier Alter Egos)

ty @fancybootm for the request!

A/N: i just did all of them. every-all-everyone. Except Yandereplier, Silver Shepard, Ed Edgar... maybe others I’m not aware of at the moment... I tried to stick with a certain number of egos, but my hands just... they just kept moving. It is 11:00 pm when im writing this ya boy is TIRED. there are 1.6k words. It seems longer than it is bc bullet points. Bear with me. You can find the egos that you want easily. The reader is gender neutral. i am so sorry if this is not what you meant lol. on the bright side this is a good reference for all the egos i am open to writing for(also maybe others idk) so uh im keeping it enjoy. I’ll say... a T rating for cursing and also a bit of violence but literally like 20 words. mentions of injury. that’s it.

Requests are open!

Y/N(reader) with wings hcs

No one knows what the fuck you are, not even you

Ya got wings. That’s it.

Are you an angel? A faery? A phoenix? Who knows

You woke up one day in a forest remembering nothing

But you had wings

And then you got shot with an arrow

You ran away and hid in a cave

Darkiplier spends most of his time around you studying you

To see what you could possibly be

He still doesn’t know

He’s settled for calling you a “cryptid”

He’s slightly annoyed with the feathers you leave around the manor

He won’t tell you bc you can’t control that and it’d be rude

You read together in his study on occasion

You sit on the floor bc your wings get uncomfortable in chairs

In sympathy, he also sits on the floor

You think it’s sweet

You told him so and he sputtered out a “shut up and read your book”

He’s fairly fond of you

You’re good company to keep around

Wilford was the one who found you

He was walking through the forest, as one does, when he saw GIANT feathers

Naturally, he followed them

He found you in a cave with an arrow in your shoulder

He took you back to the manor and patched you up

He begged Dark to keep you there

He promised not to kill anybody for a month

He made it 15 days, which is a record

He’s very protective of you, not letting you out a lot since uh… hunters

You are his Sweet Little Songbird, light of his life, wind in his sails,

if anything happens to you he will kill everyone in the manor and then himself

He helps you preen a lot

His hands are very gentle, surprisingly

He spends the most time with you out of everyone

You play games, talk(well, he talks to you), and just hang out

He loves and adores you with his whole heart

Actor tolerates you, or so he says

He’s jealous of your wings

HE’S supposed to be the mysterious, sexy one!

But ok, yeah, you’re pretty interesting

He uses you in short films sometimes bc… well… wings

There are alot of things you can do with wings, surprisingly

He took you out into town one night

He shoved the wings under a thick jacket

You guys bought some clothes and food

He cut holes in the clothes for your wings, grumbling about a “waste of money” and “you never go out anyway”

but he enjoyed spending a bit of time with you

Wilford nearly killed him(again) when he found out

He likes venting to you bc you just nod without really listening

As I said, you’re good company

Yancy thinks you’re nice

He felt a bit… threatened at first

Ya got WINGS, of course he’s cautious

But they are very pretty

And he likes to use you in choreography

People always comment on how realistic the wings are as Yancy leads you away

You don’t judge him for killing his parents, he likes that about you

You don’t know. You could’ve done something bad. You don’t remember

He likes cuddling bc you wrap your wings around him and he feels safe

He also helps you preen… sometimes…

He’s… really bad at it...

You like listening to him sing

He sings you lullabies at night

You’re very close

Illinois is very fascinated with you

He’s convinced you’re a fairy

He’s seen quite a few of those

You tell him you don’t know, and he goes “a LiKeLy StOrY”

He likes drawing you

You’re very angelic

“Oh, maybe an angel then…” He says, like an idiot

He takes you with him on a few adventures to fly him over pits and stuff

He’d never admit it but he has a… THING about heights

It’s called a phobia, you egotistic maniac

You try to help him with it

You never get that far off the ground before he’s screaming to be put down

He appreciates the effort

He gives you things he finds on adventures that are pretty or remind him of you

He infodumps to you about curses, and archaeology, and adventuring, etc.

Magnum is uh… well, he’s Magnum

He figures you’d be useful out at sea

You can find nearby land, ships, or treasure by flying, of course

He didn’t take into account the fact that you don’t really… fly that often.

So it turned into you just stretching your wings instead of looking for loot

Once you fell overboard

Everyone was like “eh, they can fly, it’s fine”

Then they realized that you probably can’t since your wings might be wet

Magnum LEAPED into the fuckin water and THREW you back on

He doesn’t take you on the sea as much anymore

sometimes you talk about life, treasure, love, y'know the usual

He’s very Father Figure-ly

Bim isn’t sure how to feel about you

You are a person. With wings. What’s he supposed to do about that

He’s friends with Wil, so has to tolerate you at least.

He tries to make conversation, but it doesn’t always go as well as it could

You don’t have much to talk about, and some of his topics worry you

Mostly you two just kinda… exist in the same general area

Sometimes he’ll discuss what he should do on his show

You don’t have many ideas

But you’ve gotten an idea of what it is, and sometimes give a suggestion or two

He appreciates you for that

He tried to get you on the show once but Wilford refused

You kinda wanted to, but whatever

You’ll hang out sometimes too

He’s very entertaining, he has to be

Eric is kind of scared

Not that you’ll hurt him, that he’ll hurt you

That happens a lot to people he likes…

He eventually starts hanging out around you

You don’t ask bad questions, and you distract him from his dad

He talks about animals with you a lot, and how he wanted a farm

You bought a cowboy hat and gave it to him and he cried

You also gave him a stuffed cow one day

He hugged you for a long time

You two cuddle a lot bc the boy needs SAFETY and SECURITY

You wuv each other(platonically or otherwise)

Dr. Iplier doesn’t bother you, mostly

He appreciates that you keep to yourself

He has his work, that’s what he’s focused on

Sometimes he’ll see you when you try to find Wilford or get some food

He tries to get a good look at you without looking suspicious

It doesn’t work, he always falls over

He once gave you a “physical”

It was mostly to just figure out what you were

You seemed mostly human based on the results

But goddammit you had WINGS

They had their own function but were sort of like an add-on to your body

He was slightly disappointed you weren’t gonna… turn into a whole bird

You tolerate each other

Google fuckin’ hates you

He’s completely perplexed by you

Which he is never because he is the most intelligent being on the planet

So he assumed he could figure out what you were

Turns out google fucking sucks at figuring out things people don’t already know

So he hates you. Like a lot

He’s tried to kill you multiple times

But his objective is to destroy MANKIND

You are not included in that

BECAUSE HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE!!!

Also Wilford almost killed him for it

So yeah he just kinda hates you

You’ve tried to get along with him but he just wouldn’t

He finally talked to you when Bing called him a little bitch

Still hates you, but can tolerate your existence now

Bing fuckin’ adores you

You are just wonderful to him

You can FLY??!! You have WINGS???!!!!!

You don’t really care that he is an artificial BEING????!!!!!!!!

You’re perfect

He does Sick Tricks™ to try to impress you

They never do

You appreciate the effort

You don’t see him a lot, but when you to it’s very entertaining

He taught you how to skateboard

You kinda sucked but he’s very supportive

He likes just hanging around you

It’s the only time he ever chills the fuck out

Everyone’s thankful to you for that

Your entire dynamic is “what if... i put... my minecraft bed... next to yours? haha just kidding... unless?”

The Host doesn’t really care about the wings??

I mean, he can’t see them, so… what’s the big deal

You appreciate that

He still does the uh… narration thing… with real people…

The stories end better now

You convinced him to make the stories end better

You sat with him to make SURE the stories end better

He also started writing novels recently

You help with plot and character development

He appreciates that

The Jims… don’t really care about you

I mean you’re interesting, of course

But they physically Cannot get a clear picture of you

Even if you agree to sit still, it just doesn’t happen

It is always, ALWAYS blurry

They eventually give up and leave you alone

They do spend a bit of time with you

You help them with demon episodes sometimes

You don’t do much, but they like the emotional support

King of the Squirrels is… well, he’s him

He doesn’t… he doesn’t do much

He hangs out with his squirrels. That’s pretty much it.

You just started hanging out with him one day

He didn’t mind

You two feed the squirrels while sitting by a tree

He lets you wear his crown sometimes

He draws his squirrels, and lets you see the pictures

He teaches you how to draw them

You two don’t talk, really

You just sit. And hang out.

He doesn’t really smile, but you can tell when he’s happy with you

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ikingsley · 3 years

Text

Ina x MC: Late Nights

Summary: Ina misses a date she planned.

Warnings: Angst! Also warning for brief mentions of alcohol.

Tag: @samanthadalton @domakir @kulaykape @hellyeah90sbaby @dopeyouth @kwaj05 @thedaft1 @swimmingshoebakerydreamer

Author’s Notes: I wanted to provide a little more background on Luna, who’s a neuroscience major. I also was craving angst, so this is the product of that.

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

Friday @12:47 pm

Ina: I’ll see you at home tonight; remember, I’m cooking.

Luna: Oh lord 🙏

Ina: Hey! I promise it’ll be fine. All you need to do is show up. See you then, mi amor ❤️.

But now, it was almost 3 in the morning. The apartment was dark and quiet, except for the TV that was on at low volume. Luna was sprawled on the couch; she had knocked out a long time ago. What was supposed to be a fun date night with Ina had turned into a night of anguish for Luna.

Ina was supposed to come home early to cook — albeit a very basic meal, but nevertheless, a meal — for Luna. The two were supposed to play some Trivial Pursuit and then cuddle to a movie together. Little did they know that that was quite the opposite of what would really happen that night.

When Luna had arrived at Ina’s apartment to find Ina not there, she hadn’t been worried. She’d been held up in the office quite often before. A student asking for an extension, an administrator here and there...but as the minutes slid into hours, Luna began losing hope. And with that dissipating, Luna became more and more angry. She texted Ina multiple times, just to receive radio silence. She had to rearrange her volunteer schedule at the hospital for this, and Ina hadn’t even bothered to show up at her own place. For such a driven and brilliant woman, Ina could be so irritating.

Ina got out of the cab, lurching forward towards her apartment. She mumbled incoherently to herself as she fumbled with her keys. When she finally was able to let herself into her home, she stumbled over her own heels and fell down, subsequently causing a loud crash sound. Oh crap, she muttered.

Luna jumped up, already on high alert. She looked around, only to find Ina on the floor. Luna gave Ina a sad, disappointed look, but turned away as a tear fell from her eye. This seemed to slightly sober Ina up.

“Wait- Luna!” Ina said desperately, clawing at the floor, trying to get up. The cry in her voice caused Luna to turn around for a split second. “Can we please talk?”

“Ina, you’re too out of it to have a mature conversation. Christ, you reek,” Luna sighed, shaking her head and retreating to the bedroom.

It hadn’t been the first time Ina had come home intoxicated, but those times, Ina was funny, and Luna had taken care of her accordingly. More importantly, on those occasions, Ina hadn’t planned out a date night.

Ina poured herself a shot of coffee and downed it in an attempt to sober up. When she felt like she had gained some sort of consciousness, she walked towards the bedroom. Right before she had reached the doorway, she held herself back, drawing in a deep breath. The conversation that she wanted to take place was going to be heavy, and she knew it.

Luna was curled up on her own side of the bed, scrolling absentmindedly on her phone. Tears rolled down her face, onto the pillow, but she had no control over her them.

“Luna,” Ina breathed out. It was low, but very well enunciated.

“You’re welcome to sleep on the couch in the living room,” Luna said sarcastically.

“I know you’re mad. Today was supposed to be about us, and I blew it.”

Though Ina couldn’t see Luna, she felt her eye roll. “You really did.”

Ina walked over to Luna’s side of the bed and crouched down to meet Luna’s eyes. She was met with Luna shifting on the bed, rolling over so that Ina couldn’t see her crying.

“Oh, real mature,” Ina scoffed.

“Bye bye!” Luna said in a sing-songy voice.

“Who the hell are you talking to?” Ina snapped.

“MATURITY. She left when you came home, wasted and reeking on our date night. God, just go to sleep, Ina. It’s three in the morning. The couch is practically screeching your name,” Luna said as her voice finally broke. The sarcastic facade could only last a few moments. She pointed to the door, trying to get Ina to leave her alone.

Ina stood in the middle of the bedroom, just watching Luna cry. It hurt. She hurt Luna. What have I done, Ina reckoned, wiping at her own tears.

Finally, Ina trudged out of the room. She plopped herself on the couch; the only times she’d actually slept there were when Luna fell asleep in her arms, and she didn’t want to wake her.

When Ina left the room, Luna let out a sob, followed by a stream of tears. For the past few days, Ina had acted distant. Luna thought it would be a quick phase; Ina had publishing deadlines throughout the year. When a big deadline approached, Ina would immerse herself in her work, and Luna understood. Sure, she was clingy, but she knew how much work meant to Ina. And when Ina met the deadline, Luna was the first to congratulate her, and they’d celebrate together. But never had anything like this happen before. Never had Ina come home smelling this foul. Never had Ina missed a date she planned and seemed excited about. Most of all, never had she let Luna down like this before.

The two hugged themselves on their respective sleeping arrangements. Tears flowed freely and the women tossed and turned. By now, hours had gone by, and neither had slept a wink.

The sun had come up and light broke into the window. Luna huddled under the covers, acting as if the sun’s light was the reason she couldn’t sleep. At this point, she had stopped crying - she felt that her tear ducts couldn’t physically produce anything anymore.

“Luna, I love you,” Ina’s voice rang out.

Had that been real? The sleep-deprived young woman didn’t know if Ina had actually spoken to her or if that was a figment of her imagination, recalling happier times of Ina’s many love confessions.

“Luna,” The voice said again. “God! Just look at me! Please.”

Now, Luna knew she wasn’t hallucinating anymore. She pulled off the covers, facing Ina for the first time in hours. And with a quick glance, Luna discovered that Ina didn’t look much better than herself. It was evident that she also hadn’t slept, and dried tears stained her face.

Luna’s lower lip quivered, and she knew, somehow, she was about to cry again. And once again, she pulled the covers over her face.

“What can I do, Luna? You used to tell me I was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, and now you can’t even look at me.”

“Leave me alone,” Luna grumbled.

For a moment, there was silence, but then, Ina attacked. She yanked off the covers and pinned Luna down with her body.

“I love-” Ina cried out, but she was interrupted by the pain flashing through Luna’s eyes. It had only been a mere second, because Luna shut her eyes so promptly to ease her pain, but it had taken its toll.

God, what am I doing, Ina thought to herself, rolling onto the other side of the bed. For a while, the two just sat staring numbly at the ceiling. It was as if they were reflecting - physically together, but mentally, miles away.

It was Luna who clasped the other woman’s hand. Ina wasn’t expecting it, but she returned the grip.

“I’m really sorry, Luna,” Ina admitted. “I’m such an ass.”

“I know you’re stressed, it’s fine-”

“It really isn’t, Luna. I made a commitment, and I failed to follow through.”

“I’m more disappointed than mad or anything else, really.”

And if this was supposed to be any sort of consolation to Ina, it really wasn’t. Somehow, her heart dropped even further into her chest. Having disappointed Luna was worse than upsetting her.

The two sat in silence for a long time, contemplating. They could hear each other’s sniffles every so often, followed by them clearing their throats. Their hearts still beat together as one, even after feeling so apart.

“Ina?” Luna questioned, releasing her hand from Ina’s hand. She moved to face her as Ina did the same.

Before, Ina had only seen glimpses of her lover, but now, it was all real. Luna’s face was now wet with tears, but she still had a small, sad smile on her face. That smile. It was the one that broke her heart into a million pieces, something that only Luna knew how to put back together.

Ina shut her eyes, trying to not let herself cry for the umpteenth time in a span of 12 hours.

“Hey. What’s wrong?” Luna asked sympathetically. Ina just shook her head, looking back at the ceiling through her tear-glazed eyes. She reached out to Ina to cup her face. “Ina, look at me. What’s wrong?”

“Look at you. I was the one who screwed up, and now you’re comforting me,” Ina said, letting out a quick breath. This girl was truly something else.

“Missing a date night...that’s not like you. At all. So something’s up, and you’re not telling me,” Luna said intuitively.

“I-” Ina began, but her voice wavered, and a sob followed.

“Come here,” Luna said, opening up her arms.

Ina inched towards Luna, and Luna wrapped her arms around Ina. They stayed like this for a while, until Luna brought her hand around to wipe away Ina’s tears.

“Ever since you started volunteering at the hospital, I feel like we’ve...grown apart,” Ina said.

“I- I’m not sure what to say to that, Ina. I have to focus on my own future, just like you had to in college,” Luna said back softly.

“I know, I know. I’m not asking you to drop it or anything like that. I know you’ll need some kind of experience for med school. I’m just...worried about us,” Ina admitted.

“Is that why you were drinking tonight?” Luna asked.

“Well, my paper was one reason, but then I began thinking about us. How much you’ve grown since we met. And now, you’re about to take the MCAT. You’re already so busy now; imagine when you get into med school and become a famous neuroscientist.”

“We’ve both always been busy, but we’ve managed it. You’re so important to me, Ina. And don’t you forget it. Because I won’t. My future is important, but mainly because you’re gonna be a huge part of it.”

Ina smiled slowly, meeting Luna’s eyes. “How do you always know what to say?”

“Because we’ve been through hell and back, Ina.” That glimmer in Luna’s eyes was back, giving Ina the confidence she needed.

“You know, you’re right. As a great poet once said, ‘Love will find a way through paths where wolves fear to prey,’” Ina chuckled.

“Oh god, you’re quoting Lord Byron now?” Luna broke out into a laughing fit.

“He defined poetry from the Romantic period! Maybe he didn’t find his own...person, but he was a great poet.”

“Well, you’re my person, and I’m yours. You’re not losing me, and you never will. We’re practically stuck together for eternity,” Luna jested.

“There’s no one I’d rather be stuck with,” Ina grinned.

#ina kingsley #ina x mc #queen b #choices stories you play #luna garcia

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the-shy-and-anxious-fangirl · 3 years

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Flufftober Day 1- Winning a Teddy for the Other

Shoto was on a mission. All day long, he had been a witness to all the work Midoriya had been putting into making Eri smile, from his multiple roles in Class 1-A’s concert to going off with Sato to make candy apples for her when he hadn’t been able to find a booth that sold them, and Shoto thought he deserved to have someone put in a similar effort for him. While he still didn’t know all the details of the work study that Midoriya had participated in that had ultimately ended in the rescue of Eri, he knew that it had been hard on him, and ever since his usual bright smile had been a wan, wobbly shadow of its former self on the rare occasions that it appeared. Whatever uncertainties might lie in his way, Shoto knew he would do anything to help his friend get his smile back.

And thus, his mission. While Midoriya was busy making candy apples, Shoto was wandering the school festival alone, searching for something that might make the person in question smile. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking for, but he knew he would know it when he saw it. All he had wanted for a while now was a way to help Midoriya the way Midoriya had helped him, and now, at last, was a chance to do just that.

Finally, after wandering seemingly aimlessly for what seemed at least an hour, Shoto entered the area where the business course had set up booths with various festival foods and carnival game, he spotted it- the very thing he had been searching for. Hanging from the roof of one of the game booths, nestled among one of the bundles of plushies that could be won as prizes, was an All Might plushie. It was probably silly to go through the effort of winning it for Midoriya, since he no doubt had dozens of similar plushies, and more than likely no longer collected All Might’s merchandise now that he had a personal relationship with the man, but surely it was the thought that counted, right? Shoto knew Midoriya well enough to know that it was the thought behind the gesture of giving him a gift that would matter more to him than the gift itself. At any rate, the moment Shoto had laid eyes on that plushie he had seen in his mind’s eye the look that would be on Midoriya’s face when he gave it to him, the way he would smile so wide that his eyes would close, cheeks round and tinged pink with a flustered blush and nose scrunched. It had to be this. This had to be the thing that would help his friend get his smile back.

With that decided, Shoto strode up to the booth to determine the nature of the game he would be playing. It turned out to be one of the type that relied on aim, where you had to knock down a certain number of targets in order to win a prize. Though he was rarely one to outwardly express emotion, except around specific people, Shoto couldn’t stop a smirk from tugging his mouth upwards at the corners. He’d been training extensively lately in precision attacks, his aim in particular. This almost felt like fate. Feeling elated, he paid his entry fee for the game and set to work.

Many hours later, with plushie in hand, Shoto headed toward UA’s front gate, following after Midoriya, who he’d seen heading in that direction not too long before, no doubt intending to see Eri off as she headed home. By the time he caught up to him, Midoriya was already turning away from the gates, no doubt intending to head back to the dorms now that he’d said his goodbyes to Eri. The tears glimmering in his eyes didn’t alarm Shoto as they might once have, now that he knew him well enough to know that he cried anytime he experienced any sort of strong emotion, and since there was no sadness about his expression, the emotion that had caused these tears was likely a positive one.

“Midoriya,” he said, approaching him.

“Oh hi Todoroki,” he replied, greeting him with his usual sad attempt at a smile. “What brings you all the way out here?”

“I have something for you,” Shoto answered, drawing the All Might plushie from his jacket pocket with a flourish and holding it out to Midoriya.

“For me?” he asked in a whisper, reaching out to take it gently from Shoto, curling his fingers carefully around it as if it were something priceless. “Where did you get this?”

“I won it in a carnival game,” Shoto replied. “I saw all the effort you’ve been putting into making Eri smile and I thought you deserved to have someone do the same for you. Your smile hasn’t been the same since your work study, and I’ve missed it. I wanted to help you get it back.”

“So you went through the effort of trying to win a prize in a most likely rigged carnival game,” Midoriya said, “... for me?” The unshed tears glimmering in his eyes were spilling over now, streaming down his cheeks, and he was squeezing the plushie in his hand tightly as if attempting to use it to hold back a flood of emotions.

“It was nothing, really,” Shoto replied earnestly. “I’d do anything for you.” Midoriya blinked at that, startled, but before Shoto had time to wonder if that had been the wrong thing to say, he was being pulled into a hug, Midoriya holding him just as tightly as he had been holding the plushie just a moment before. When they broke apart, the very eye closing, cheek rounding, nose scrunching smile that Shoto had imagined was on Midoriya’s face, albiet with the slight difference of the tears still streaming down his cheeks, and Shoto couldn’t help but smile himself. Mission accomplished.

#an all might plushie counts as a teddy in this context shut up #flufftober #flufftober2021 #flufftober day 1 #my hero academia #shoto todoroki #izuku midoriya #tododeku #my fic #arianna writes

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nhi-theuserof-this · 3 years

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TW/CW: Depictions of blood, gore, broken body parts, corpses, explosions, swearing, unnatural body movements (some are very graphically said)

This is a graphic edition of my most recent oneshot, the link provided leads to the censored/vague edition

Link here

https://nhi-theuserof-this.tumblr.com/post/638464385946451968/i-read-this-one-ao3-fanfiction-and-now-i-want-to

—

The festival was the first.. ...known.. occasion of that thing.

Nobody wanted to think that Technoblade and the thing were the same, if they were in fact the same being, well, nobody wanted to think about that.

It was in the middle of Schlatt screaming at Technoblade that it appeared. Technoblade was gripping his head tightly and shaking it at nothing in particular. “Are you even listening?” Schlatt had shouted at him. It snapped an invisible string as Technoblade whimpered and stood still, eyes fluttering closed as he passed out while standing, but it wasn’t like anyone could tell as he was outright shaking at the moment.

The crowd went silent and so did everyone on the stage. Techno That thing, it opened Technoblades eyes to show they had turned fully blue, a light blue that could pass as white in the right lighting. It jerked Technoblade into an upright position as his body swayed. It was as if a doll was being pulled into multiple directions at once, before settling on taking a step towards Tubbo.

Jschlatt had thought Technoblade had given in and shouted encouragement as he never noticed Technoblades empty blue eyes. It jerked Technoblades hands onto the crossbow at his side taking it up in both its hands, fumbling to put a rocket inside. Technoblades mouth fell open as hundereds-thousands of whispers fell out of at a million miles a minute, a loud one, that spoke above the volumes of all the other voices, “We’re sorry Tubbo” It said, voice similar to the sound that came from nails scratching at a chalkboard. “Let’s make this as colorful and painless as possible.”

It pointed the crossbow currently named ‘Subscribe to Technoblade’ in between Tubbo’s eyes, finger hovering over the trigger as Technoblades mouth was pressed into a grin as the rocket released, enchantments morphing the rocket into three that of which went into seperate directions, exploding into many colors as Technoblade was moved to reload and shoot once again, this time resulting in the death of everyone on the stage aside from himself.

All three of the people that had died left behind rapidly decaying corpses that implicated so.

His body was turned around with stiff, jerky movements, face being in an emotionless grin as the weapon in his hands had more ammunition available for use. Jshlatt had died twice, somehow, and almost every participant of the festival had died as well that day.

He was back to normal at some point after he got back to Pogtopia. Sitting still as a stone beside his potato farm, staring at his reflection as if it wasn’t his own. He quietly mumbled apologies to no one in sight and was rapidly switching from topic to topic, quietly explaining things to himself while telling an invisible something to shut up.

Tommy had angrily stomped up to Technoblade when he got back. Shouting ar him about killing Tubbo, betraying him, practically disowning him at one point, something else. It became distorted and turned to white noise quickly as Wilbur dragged the two towards a pit he made, encouragingly pushing the two towards the enterance while babbling on about beating eachother.

Somewhere in between those events, Technoblade lost control of his movements, but still consious and aware of what was happening. Technoblade was hollow in that very moment, so very hollow he didn’t realize the voices forced their way out of his mouth as Tommy live there bloody on the ground.

“Violence is the only universal language.” The voices had screamed through Technoblade, so scratchy and disgusting sounding that Tommy didn’t know if Techno actually said that as what he said after was suddenly back in his own monotone as ever voice.

Tommy had learnt not to shout at Technoblade for hours on end after what happened.

The server learned to be wary of Technoblade at all times if they weren’t already.

Sometimes Technoblade could spend a week without a single one of the voices speaking, other times though.. ...it was a blessing just to be able to go about his day without hurting himself whether on purpose or not.

The voices were very loud today. The second Technoblade could register noise his mind was flooded with screams and shouts of ‘late’ and ‘anarchy’ along with the other regular things but this time ther were hundereds of other extra voices shouting along, screaming for him to do violent things, to draw blood and kill something. Unluckily for Technoblade, the cow pit only needed breeding right now.

Technoblade left his base with fresh bandages wrapped around his body. He’ll need to get new bandages for the next time this happens.

It was through the voices screaming at him to run, that he learned that everyone had them, Technoblade didn’t know he was about to be attacked until the voices sceamed as an arrow made its way into his leg in between the gaps in his armor. It was just that he was the only one that could actually hear them. The next time the voices said something he didn’t know about was as Wilbur stepped down from the podium. Technoblade had seen no evidence of Phil even being invited to the server, but the voices screamed about him in the minutes that led up to his joining the server notification appeared in chat.

Everyone spoke over Technoblade as he attempted to make his first speach. Technoblade honestly expected this, but chat was pissed they’d never hear it, it had taken his body momentarily and created the base of the two withers. Technoblade turned back to continue speaking after being let go, but most of the people that could see him flinched, chat left his eyes tinted blue, an after affect that stuck around if Technoblade was only partially taken over for a short time.

The events of that day had left some people thoroughly traumatized, the reason? It was surprisingly not because of Technoblade alone. Technoblade never took note of that though, opting to hang out with Phil for a while, letting the man crash at his base until he could get himself set up.

He was teetering between telling Phil about the voices, confessing and explaining why he’s become so violent so suddenly at times, or keeping it to himself for the time being. He chose the later. It unfortunately didn’t stop Phil from seeing the tinted red bandages, even though he could’ve swore technoblade had just changed them.

“Are you okay Techno?”

And the voices grew soft. They pushed Techno to say yes and dismiss Phil, though that was only some of them, others told him to be honest. And that’s what he did.

Techno had broken down, he cried and cried, he confessed to Phil that he had never gotten this bad nearly as often before, that he had hurt himself enough to cause an emergency stash be put in place. Phil remembers how small and fragile Techno was when he first found him, but nothing could compare to what Technoblade was like right now, curling in on himself, cursing his own existence as if he were worth less than the dirt in the ground, crying in shame at how he is able to mercilessly cut down so many people without pause.

Phil gained a better understanding of why Technoblade was more comfortable in a friendly relationship rather than a family type of relationship that evening, as he held his shaking friend in his arms.

The butchers had invaded Philzas home in search of Technoblade. This was something he had learnt through both the voices and the butchers. The voices liked when he cracked jokes so Technoblade rated his kidnapping a two, it made the voices laugh, nobody else did, only the voices.

Technoblade was scared they’d hurt something or someone close to him like Phil, so he shut up and played along after Carl got held hostage, hoping he’d get a chance to free himself and take Carl home.

He was now in a cage, supposedly about to have a trial, but it was likely to be rigged. The voices suddenly started screaming, causing Technoblade to flinch in a visible manner. Nobody knew what he flinched at besides himself, but that didn’t matter right now as someone tried busting him out. Technoblade didn’t know who, he was busy taking a totem of undying into his hands, shakily hoping it wouldn’t come to that, but he learnt that the voices were commonly right.

The voices proved true once again. Quackity was pissed at what was happening, so much in fact, he disregarded the entire trial as he yanked the lever activating the mechanism that’d drop an anvil onto him in order to crush his skull.

As Technoblade took in a sharp breath as the anvil came in contact with his body, he was suddenly crushed, sickeningly loud crack sounding out as everyone turned to look at him. The totem slipped out of his hand when he was crushed sliding off the small stage with a clank, before it exploded into a burst of green and white particles, making him phase through the anvil as he shakily stood while the crushed bone slowly reformed, muscle and skin following. Most people looked away as others cringed at the disgusting noises.

When heit looked up, everyone started shouting. That thing wasn’t supposed to come out, Technoblade wasn’t even supposed to survive the initial anvil drop.

Technoblades body ran, and so did everyone else, wether the same direction or not.

“You’re on the fucking hitlist Technoblade!” Quackity screamed in rage.

The thing turned around, mouth falling open as hundreds of different voices came out at once. Quackity stepped back, the voices too much to register, him barely picking some of them up.

‘QUACKITY WHAT’ ‘BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD’ ‘CARL’ ‘Lead in pile!’ ‘Kill!!’

The voices suddenly went dull as Technoblades body went slack, before getting into a fighting stance unusual for him. ‘It’s u s Qua.kity, ch-At.’

Quackity raised his axe before Technoblades body launched forwards before raising Technoblades pickaxe. ‘We have a pickaxe,’ it grinned, ‘and we’ll put it through your teeth.’

Quackity hadn’t realized how horrible the thing was until now, until the body of Technoblade loomed above him, scratch that- the body of chat, that hovered over him with a manic grin, bringing the pickaxe down into his jaw, yanking harshly as Quackity let out a blood curtling scream as char pulled it out and brought it down into his skull, killing him with a final blow.

Quackity was slain by Technoblade

#chat possession au #mcyt #dream smp #mcyt fanart #mcytau #tommyinnit #Wilbur soot #Wilbur mcyt #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt fic #mcyt fandom #quackity #tw violence #nhiwrotehere

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ilovesamheughan · 3 years

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Herself is fun like no other! 😂

Diana Gabaldon's Foreword to Clanlands Reveals Behind-the-Scenes Stories from the Outlander Set

Here's your first look at the introduction to Sam Heughan and Graham McTavish's new book.

BY DIANA GABALDON

NOV 3, 2020

outlander season 2 2016ED MILLER / STARZ

Well, in The Beginning . . . there was a man in a kilt.

I’ve always figured that if there’s something you want to do, you should start doing it, and if it’s the right thing, the universe kind of comes out to meet you. So, I started writing a novel about a man in a kilt, and the universe brought me a television show.

I’ve been indirectly responsible for a lot of strange things since I wrote Outlander – from:

. . . five seasons (so far) of a hit TV series

. . . the names of dozens of purebred dogs, racehorses and housing developments

. . . thousands of babies named Brianna or Jamie (no one has ever, to my knowledge, named a child ‘Murtagh’, which is puzzling . . .)

. . . Lord John Grey’s Tea

. . . symphonic band compositions

. . . a musical

. . . a Scottish woolen mill specialising in tartan

. . . a marvelous pair of cookbooks

. . . three million knitted cowls

. . . dozens of female fans who lower their trousers at book signings to show me ‘Da mi basia mille’ tattooed on their tailbones (as my husband remarked to me, ‘Well, how many people can say,“Kiss my ass” in classical Latin?’)

. . . a 72% increase in Scottish tourism (as Visit Scotland was kind enough to tell me), and

. . . an excellent whisky called ‘Sassenach’

But this book may be one of the strangest, and definitely one of the best!

I’m deeply honoured that Sam and Graham have asked me to write the foreword to one of the most interesting, unusual (to put it mildly . . .) and hilarious books I’ve read in a long time. I’m not quite sure what you’d call it, but then I’m used to not being able to describe my own books in twenty-five words or less, so this is probably not a problem.

To start with, it’s a buddy book. Two good friends banter (and bicker) their way across the Scottish Highlands, risking life and limb in that casual way that makes men attractive. Why? Well, because they’re both Scottish and they have both been a large part of Outlander (not just the television show, but the whole weird phenomenon), have realised that they are Scottish (wearing a kilt every day for two years will do that to you), and want to find out where their heritage came from and what being Scottish actually means (aside from being born liking whisky)

It’s also a road book. (Think Jack Kerouac, but with fewer drugs, more paragraphs and no sex. Well, almost no sex . . .).

Our two friends are in fact making a television series about several historical locations in the Highlands. Accompanied by a small film crew – including a talented makeup artist and a drone operator – they visit spectacular historical locations in the Scottish Highlands to learn the true history of some of the best-known massacres, fights, betrayals, beheadings, and other typically Scottish recreational activities. This is the story of that journey, accomplished via an aged Fiat camper van, tandem bike, kayak and any number of other improbable modes of transport that only make sense to people suffering from testosterone poisoning.

And on their way, they talk. Not only to each other, but to themselves. In some of its phases, the book is a twin memoir. Each man recalls his life as an actor – in bits – because every actor (like every writer) pretty much makes it up as they go along. Which means a lot of the stories are of the kind that are only funny to the protagonists with twenty years’ perspective, but are endlessly entertaining to the spectators.

These reminiscences include a good many stories from the Outlander set, as well. I’m only on set myself intermittently, but I do recall the day in Season Two when Sam’s horse – which he was preparing to mount – decided to take its mother’s advice and relieve itself before setting out (there’s reason why most costumes are made in multiples). And another occasion during Season Two wherein Graham was required to ride a mechanical horse (as the director said to me, ‘It looks like shit, but you won’t be able to actually see it on film’)

The mechanical horse was carried on the back of a truck, followed by another truck with a camera, and Graham was supposed to leap into the mechanical horse’s saddle while moving (supposedly jump-ing from another horse). This being television, they filmed the scene many, many times to ensure enough footage to get the effect they were after. When they finally stopped, Graham staggered downhill from the road where they’d been doing this, pausing by me and Anne Kenney (brilliant writer of the other episode in that block of filming) to say, ‘I’ve just been having a conversation with my balls. They said, “We’d really rather you didn’t do that again”’. And staggered on, muttering, ‘I knew I should have worn a cup this morning . . .’.

And finally, there’s the actual history of the ‘clan lands’, woven through this tale of a journey. The travelers reach the most interesting/famous/relevant Highland locations, where they do learn what their history and heritage are, assisted by some of the most colorful inhabitants of those places.

So, you’re actually getting four books in one! (A real bargain . . .).

But the most important part of this book is the friendship between its authors, that colours and illuminates every page.

I was both intrigued and immensely entertained by the story, but also touched on a personal level. One of the most unexpected aspects of the whole ‘Outlander phenomenon’ is the amazing way in which it seems to draw people together. People read the books and watch the show – and they want to talk about it. So, they form fan groups and book clubs and Facebook forums, and deep, lasting friendships, all because of a shared love of a story.

I will always recall one woman who brought me a book at a signing, who told me that she lived alone, had been alone for many years, seldom got out and had no family – but that she’d become attracted to the story, found others who felt likewise, and who invited her to go with them to book-signings, premieres and conventions. ‘Now I have friends!’, she said. She cried, and so did I.

I hope you’ll feel that sense of friendship in these pages.

A final word, since this book is all about returning to one’s roots: Some years ago, one of my novels won the Corine International Prize for Fiction, and I was invited to go to Germany to accept the award. This was rather a Big Deal for the German publisher, and they took advantage of my presence to have me interviewed by the entire German press corps; newspapers, magazines, radio, television, literary journals, you name it. By the end of the week I was sleep deprived and a bit glazed over when I met a nice gentleman from one of the literary journals.

Delightful man, he went on at great (and flattering) length about the books. He loved my narrative drive, my characters were tremendous, my imagery transcendent!

So I’m sitting there in a pleasant daze, thinking, ‘Yes, yes, go on . . .’, when he suddenly said, ‘There is just one thing I wonder: can you explain to me, what is the appeal of a man in a kilt?’.

Well, had I been totally conscious, I might not have said it (then again . . .). Anyway, I looked at him for a moment and said, ‘Well . . .I suppose it’s the idea that you could be up against a wall with him in a moment.’

<ahem>

A few weeks later, home again in Arizona, I get a packet of interview clippings from the German publisher, and on the top is the interview from that journal. The publisher had attached a Post-it note, saying, ‘I don’t know what you said to this man, but I think he is in love with you!’.

A man in a kilt. A very powerful and compelling image, yes . . . And now you have two of them . . .

Pour yourself a good dram, open the covers and enjoy yourself!

Slàinte mhath!

Diana Gabaldon

Scottsdale, Arizona

August, 2020

#sam heughan #clanlands book #diana gabaldon #grahammctavish

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itsmoonphobic · 4 years

Text

🗝️ 𝕽𝖎𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖉𝖊 𝕽𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖘𝖔𝖉𝖞

"𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒆𝒆?𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒖𝒔 𝑻𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒚.𝑷𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆,𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈.𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒊𝒕."

Listen to this song if you want extra vibes while reading :) ❗TW: Death | Corpses | Angst

"Death is the opposite of life,that's not true.Death is a part of life that catches up to us at any given time."

His life was turned upside down in a matter of days.After the tragic death of their ruler and friend Techno,the blond boy would lock himself in the king's room and declined to come out,unless it's highly necessary.Neglecting both his mental and physical health during the time of Techno's departure,he refuses to talk to another human being,doesn't eat even if the chefs prepare his favorite meal they knew he never turns down.But even by that he seems unfazed and just picks around his plate and leaves it on the table while excusing himself so he make his way back to the king's chambers and sulk in despair.

Hours and hours worth of sleep only then became evident when he crawls out of Techno's room to get a glass of water and scurry back where he came from.His eyes would turn red and dark valleys painted themselves under the blue orbs,who seemingly grew with every sleepless night. He thinks other people around him don't notice but everyone in the castle sees the dried tears that ran down his pale cheeks.Phil and Wilbur would leave him alone and only occasionally check up on him to make sure he's doing okay and not having an existential crisis.Most of the time Phil finds him sitting on the windowsill,longingly staring out the pink stained glass and loyally waiting for the king's return just like he remembered doing when Techno left for one of his many journeys,traveling out into the far lands. Everytime Tommy would see a carriage approaching over the hills he would run outside and excitingly hope it's Techno who arrived.Only to be disappointed when he realizes that it's not the person he is wishing to welcome. Phil would try his hardest not to let the tears escape but after seeing Tommy devastatingly staring out into the far stretching hills and forests,he gives up fighting the urge.

Tubbo would visit the castle and inquire Phil or Wilbur if he can step inside to see Tommy.They hesitantly let him in and make sure to warn him beforehand that he doesn't mention the king or anything regarding him around his miserable best friend.Tommy was practically a ticking time bomb,one word or mention of Techno could set off an explosion.So to prevent that from becoming reality everybody in the castle is ensuring how they act around the sad blonde.His usual bubbly and cheerful energy drains out which is concerning to others around him for the reason that it's unnatural for Tommy to behave this strangely.Tubbo makes sure to keep in mind the instructions that were given to him,carefully and gently taking care of Tommy while letting him cry his heart out into one of his many green tunics.He tries to cheer him up by taking him outside to breathe in some fresh air and clear his mind from distracting thoughts.

Tommy couldn't and didn't want to accept the truth.He didn't want to admit to himself that the first person who showed him love and tought him valuable lessons in life that he would always treasure deep in his heart,died.It felt so surrealistic,so unsettling,that feeling of something missing. It was as if somebody took away a piece of him,a piece of him that kept Tommy going,a piece that reminded him of the person he wanted to become one day.Techno was and always will be the boy's will to live on and continue seeing the wonders of the world he still yet has to explore himself. He will never forget the memories they collected along the way of building up their friendship,from the moment he first spoke to him to their last shared words.He didn't like reffering to the king,nevertheless he payed a visit to his grave.The smooth,polished stone displayed itself in the center of the cemetery.A marble crown was sculptured by it's side as a representation of power and respect for their once ruthless but nonetheless caring ruler.Flowers of all kind which have been picked from widow's gardens layed on the gravestone filling it up with vibrant colors and making it come to life amongst the other dull monuments surrounding the meaningful tombstone.

Many children came along with their caretakers,leaving behind drawings and letters for the king.People came and silently stood by the grave,some cried others kneeled down and shared their prayers.Either way,Bladestrom was in a depressive state,shops got closed during the funeral which was held a few hours after his passing,schools got shut down and the majority of the kingdom's citizens didn't talk or leave their houses unless they visited his grave.The king's death was something nobody could have predicted to have happend so early into his rulership,the young king has been in control for only ten years which was nothing compared to how long his father and grandfather ruled.

Tommy,Wilbur and Phil would never forget the adventures and shenanigans they went through with their friend.Their friendship was a bond that not even death was able to break and tear apart.So many memories came rushing in once the priest spoke his ending line.Countless tears have been shed that night the coffin was burried underground, all sorts of reactions and emotions were shown.It was hard. King Techno Blade's funeral was an occasion everybody would carry on their backs like a heavy stone keeping them from walking straight,till the rest of their lives.

Tommy had it the hardest.Techno was like a father he never had,a person he could rely on,a person he trusted with all of his secrets,fears and insecurities.Somebody he saw himself going through life with,a person who changed his way of looking at all things around him.A person who cared for him,protected him and most importantly loved him.The young orphan was drowning in sadness,he was devastated. All of this new chaos and information was thrown at him out of nowhere,his brain had tried to process what's going on but failed.It just didn't make sense,only a few weeks ago the two of them were playing around in the castle and now here he was,standing infront of Techno's grave.A place where a corpse could rest,give up it's soul and carry on their destiny in the afterlife.His pale blue eyes pooled up with salty tears,the idea of giving up and joining Techno wherever the king is right now had crossed his mind multiple times in the past few days,but he kept bringing forward a promise he made with Techno.Tommy was never the type of person who took promises or pacts seriously,he either forgets about them or simply changes his mind on them and doesn't care anymore.

But this was a whole different story.This promise was something Tommy will never leave in the dust,a promise he engraved into his heart just like two lovers their capitals into the wood of a tree trunk.

"Never give up Tommy,great things take time."

Those eight words structured into a sentence stuck with Tommy the day he heard them.He wasn't sure what the king met when he told him the saying back then,but now he was completely aware of it's meaning.Techno knew that he couldn't always be there by his side even if he wanted nothing more then to see him grow up into the man he dreamed to be.He knew Tommy had to continue his experiences and reach his goals alone,he never doubted Tommy's abilities or his strange,yet effective determination that kept him going.Techno may have never said it out loud but he saw a picture of himself in Tommy.He saw the boy who once strictly followed his parent's expectations,who let himself be pushed around for no apparent reason,a boy who also had a dream,a dream he later on accomplished.

Now that Tommy was by himself in the world with his dreams,without Techno next to him,he was scared.What was he supposed to do?Where was he meant to start?How do you figure out when the right time comes?He had so many questions running wildly in his head,all of them he wanted to ask Techno,wanting to hear his opinions.

A petite gesture on his shoulder brought Tommy out of his daydreams.He didn't even notice his spacing out,he had been staring at the king's grave for the past half an hour. Silently wishing that it didn't exist.The blond boy hesitantly retrieved his eyes away from the stone looking behind him to witness none other than Wilbur.The musician was waiting for him to finish placing down the pink roses they had brought along with them,which Tommy was still steadily holding in his grip.Wilbur's eyes darted towards the fragile blooms in the orphan's hands,back to the grave as a mute signal to let them go.At first a bewildered look crossed his face but after seemingly getting the hint he gave the roses one last look and gingerly deposited them on the smooth stone.His hand lingered on the thorn filled flowers but after his fingertips left them he stood back up.

The two of them shared a moment of silence and peace. Tommy didn't have to glance at the man beside him to know that he aswell must have been struggling not to cry. Wilbur was the first to speak up:"C'mon Tommy,let's go." Blue eyes scanned the guitarist's features,his jaw clenched and his nose flared.Tommy knew if they stayed a second longer Wilbur would flood the cemetery with tears.He nodded,following Wilbur back to the castle,or atleast that's where he thought they were heading to.

Wilbur didn't take Tommy to the castle.He was suprised to see that the orphan didn't even question why or where they were going.He may physically be behind Wilbur but his mind was constantly thinking about Techno.The brown haired man stopped in his tracks,admiring the view from the cliff they were located on.Tommy came to a halt next to him,almost stepping over the edge if Wilbur didn't stop him with his arm.His pale orbs scanned the area around them, he wasn't familiar with this place but he couldn't complain about the breathtaking rivers collapsing together beneath their feet.The turbulent and foggy waves danced across the river's indigo,silk coat.The rain from the night before fed the carefree water flowing under them.

"Don't you see Tommy?" A stray tear fell down Wilbur's cheek,a small sob escaping his lips.He looked at Tommy who seemed confused and concerned.

"The waves are crying with us in harmony." Wilbur's eyes traveled back to the rising rivers willed with dangerous mountains of water.

"People say that death is the opposite of life,but that's not true at all." Tommy followed Wilbur's view,locking his eyes on the beautiful water.

"Death is a part of life,that can catch up to us at any given time or moment.It comes at unexpected times."

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖓𝖉 ☔︎

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sinkix · 4 years

Text

《What your fav Haikyuu!! Character says about you│Nekoma Edition》

Yo-hoo! Here’s another part to this potential(?) series! I hope you enjoy the possible call-outs in some of these lmao. Writers block been kicking my ass recently but I had a lot of fun writing these. Enjoy <3

You can find the Karasuno ver. here

✧✧✧✧✧ ✧✧✧✧✧ ✧✧✧✧✧ ✧✧✧✧✧

Kuroo:

Have a hand fetish and will not say no to choking.

Daddy kink™

Will not accept anything below 6 inches.

More of a dog person but would love to own a black cat.

You drool over tattoos.

Your grades are mostly B’s but you know in your heart you deserve that A, and tbh you probably do. Chase ur goals bby.

Halloween is likely your favourite holiday.

You have to resist not to carve a dick into the pumpkin EvEry GodDAmN YeAr.

You either study for 6 hours consecutively or cannot study at all and you get very frustrated at this.

Have the potential to be a good leader and command the room but probably don’t put it to use as much as you should.

Your playlist parkours from sad 3am crying into your pillow songs to aggressive punk music you could rob a store to.

You like bad boys who hang around bars and look like they would put out a cigarette on your forearm and call you a slut. Just stating facts sweaty xoxo.

Either dress very feminine and girly with a ‘smol girl uwu’ aesthetic or a hardass punk who would kick your ass for a can of beer no in between and tbh both are equally hot.

You’re a big softie at heart either way and just want to be held and told everything will be okay.

Ur a hoe for when people stroke your hair or caress your chin it’s your ultimate weakness.

Watched Rick & Morty.

Twice.

Sleeves rolled up veiny forearms and donning a silver watch are your muse and something you fantasise about frequently.

Most of your memes are shitty top text bottom texts that are somehow funny and I don’t understand why lmao.

You call someone ‘bro’ even if it’s someone you’re immensely attracted to.

Did someone say ties? No it’s just ur dirty ass thoughts thinking about that hot business dudes attire from across the street and how you wish they were tied around ur wrists.

Probably had a crush on Jeff the Killer as a tween and are relentlessly haunted by your old Wattpad library.

Tbh any dark-haired dude with bedhead that screams rugged and probably not good for you is something that draws you like a moth to a flame.

You often question why every person you’ve fallen for has been a Scorpio and curse that tendency of yours.

Dw man they’re hot so I feel u.

Kenma:

Went through a ‘I’m not like other __’ phase and it’s something that you think about a lot and wish you didn’t.

Watched dan & phil as a kid.

Any mention of Pokemon has you turning into a rabid beast you get way too excited.

It’s cute though dw bby.

Pretty antisocial but interesting to talk to.

Your family often question how you’re able to sleep in till 3pm and judge you heavily for it.

Nocturnal night owl gang rise up.

Frequently have bags under your eyes but somehow manage to pull it off.

Listen to ASMR on the down-low and will never admit it to a single soul.

Frequently go on BL binges and have many related book marks.

You pray that someone will never find your laptop bc holy fuck the amount of smut on that.

You wear scarves & beanies even when it isn’t that cold outside.

100% went through a scene hair phase/attempted to.

You dye your hair a lot or REALLY want to.

You have a voice kink low-key so anyone with a pleasant/soothing sounding voice just gets u goin’.

Cats are your favourite animal and you either do or want to own several.

Would name them after video game/anime characters u fuckin nerd lol.

Speaking of cats ,you fantasise heavily about cat-boys and have a folder dedicated to them.

Oversized hoodies are your vibe and always ball the sleeve hems in your fist as a comfort mechanism.

Shopping centres are your worst nightmare and trigger your claustrophobia or social anxiety and honestly I feel that spiritually.

Have a cute sticky note collection.

You like a lot of music consisting of guitar and slow/soothing beats.

You also fw EDM/ techno on occasions.

Honestly wouldn’t wanna anger you since you have a seething temper when pushed far enough.

It’s the kinda temper that’s eerily quiet but no less terrifying, like the other person can tell you are graphically plotting their demise.

You love sleeping to the sound of rainfall and often play those nature ambience videos while you sleep.

Never tidy your sheets and it’s just a big scrunched up heap of fabric in the centre of your mattress most of the time.

Make your fucking bed.

Lev:

Your ships are chaotic and shamelessly controversial.

Would do something just for the sake of creating mayhem lmao.

You were the fucker who stuck their chewing gum under the desk, I see you.

Your brain never stops whirring it’s a constant hurricane of crackhead energy and you have no idea how to turn it off.

Would eat a stick of pencil lead for $2

You don’t help your situation with the amount of coffee/energy drinks you consume.

The class clown who cries themselves to sleep.

Such a wholesome dumbass but somehow kinda intimidating???

Even if you’re not confident you can do something you’ll try anyway and honestly I respect that about you.

You !! use!!! a lot??!! of!! random punctuation!!! so you always??!?!? seem!!111!! excited!!!!!11!?

Every time you’ve ever tried to make a sandcastle it has failed.

You tried to eat the sand once but we don’t talk bout that.

You would also pick up slugs and snails and chase your friends around with them.

Can never tell whether people are laughing with you or at you and while you don’t let it show it high-key bothers you when you’re laying alone in your room at night.

Not one to hold grudges, you carry a ‘shit happens’ mentality which is v good but it sometimes leads to people taking advantage of it or walking all over you.

Your meme collection is both questionable and horrifying.

Like how many cursed images and heavily distorted pictures does one person need.

Never organise the files on your PC/laptop so it looks like a complete dumpster fire.

The one at sleepovers who persistently woke everyone else up with their snickering and refusal to sleep till dawn.

For the love of Asahi charge your damn phone.

I see that red bar and ‘12%’

Charge it now.

Bought a plant one time, gave it a name and talked to it frequently.

It died not long after bc u forgot to fucking water it.

No one better ever make you responsible for a pet.

Type of person that when someone asks you to tag along on an endeavour no matter how stupid it is you will agree.

2am skydiving in france? hell yeah.

Midnight shopping spree and spending over half your pay check? count you in.

Exploring an abandoned hospital and performing an Ouija board to summon the demons of hell? you’re damn right you’ll be there.

I hope you have a mum friend by your side bc if not how are you still alive.

You sometimes put the milk in before the cereal and it’s something I’ll never forgive you for.

Yaku:

Very responsible and usually make the right decisions.

You do have moments where you act like a complete dumbass though.

Like u go from 50 year old to 5 year old in the blink of an eye.

A hopeless romantic but it’s a side you don’t often reveal.

Prefer strawberry milk over any other flavour.

You’re the type of person to shower twice a day w/o fail.

Where that stank smell coming from? Not you clearly bc your skin is basically 90% The Body Shop’s rose scented soap at this point.

You get stomach aches a lot and you can’t figure out why.

Probably an allergy to everyone’s bs.

Really good at dirty talk even though you don’t seem the type so people are always taken aback.

You have to be really in the mood though otherwise it falls flatter than Oikawa’s ass, use your skill wisely.

You often call people clowns when you know you’re secretly the biggest one going.

Honk honk, hoe.

You send messages in one paragraph rather than multiple texts unless you are REALLY excited.

People underestimate you at times then are shocked when they realise you are capable of being a fire-breathing dragon from the flaming pits of hell.

You like spicy chicken wings.

Such a petty little shit at times lmao.

Enjoy the view from the top of mountains so you either hike a lot or really want to.

Way more of a cat person since it’s just much more convenient for you.

Usually pretty cheerful or calm and people are drawn to your stable/friendly aura.

Went through a phase of drinking mountain dew and your body still feels the awful effects

Fav element is probably air.

You’re 5′6″ or shorter.

Box dyed your hair brunette several times and can never get the pigment out to this day.

Yamamoto:

Whenever you smell something weird in the room you always internally freak out and think it’s you.

Head-butting walls is your hobby.

You fell off your bike as a kid and still have the scar on your knee.

Probably have tons of ear piercings.

Would tame a pigeon and call it Larry.

You get frequent nosebleeds and can never tell if it’s a medical issue or your extreme simping for fictional men/women.

Hopefully the latter.

You constantly chew your pen/pencil in class so you never lend them to anyone out of embarrassment.

I really hope no one ever lends you stationery bc 30 minutes later it’ll look like it was mauled by a rabid rottweiler.

You really want to own a dog and would call it something intimidating like Banshee or Diablo.

You bleached your hair that one time and it almost fell out so now you’re forced to stay at least 10 metres away from all at-home hair dye products.

You tried your best though bby so A for effort, even if it did look like dehydrated ramen afterwards.

Your grades are mostly C’s and you’re barely passing bc you just don’t care about your classes lol.

Still though you’re actually pretty smart so put it to good use you lazy oaf, channel that crackhead energy into something good.

Your phone screen has several cracks in it from when you dropped it on the bathroom floor while shitting and you’ll always be angry at yourself for that.

You have some really weird quirks but you make it work.

Actually a v chill person but you just kinda attract chaos/trouble wherever you go.

Carry a lighter with you even when you don’t need one.

Shy texter but once people see you irl you are the complete opposite, you just dk how to text without coming across as awkward.

One of those people that’s unintentionally funny and always get confused when you make someone laugh but it makes you feel good regardless.

Have a cool necklace collection and own at least one dog-tag/army style pendant.

Should really consider buying a rabbit you would look so cute w/ one.

You have really nice legs and people should compliment them more.

Either severely dehydrated or overly hydrated to the point you are peeing pure tap water so for the love of god please learn moderation, your kidneys and bladder will thank you for it.

Inuoka:

Your favourite character would be Hinata but you like people taller than you so your love for Inuoka spawned.

You really enjoy using the double spiderman meme.

Cannot correctly verbalise your feelings without creating a minimum of 10 misunderstandings but once people are used to it it’s kinda endearing.

You usually wake up in a good mood and people can never fathom how or why.

You either stay up till 5am or you wake up at that time no in between.

A morning person bc you love the sunrise.

Change your lock-screen very regularly bc you get bored.

Your humour consists solely of poop jokes.

When you don’t understand a joke you laugh anyway and hope they don’t ask you if you actually get it.

Happened once and you’re still traumatised from the cricket silence that fell upon the room.

Really like the taste of lemonade and drink it more often than you should.

Often think about what you would look like with a shaved head.

More of an extrovert but def have occasional introvert tendencies where you wanna be left tf alone.

Never allowed to pick up anything in stores bc the last time you did you sniffed a scented candle and it shattered to the floor.

Constantly have spontaneous ideas of what to change about your appearance.

You use a lot of hand gestures like thumbs up and peace signs.

‘Dude’ and ‘lmao’ is 90% of your vernacular.

Your nails are a disaster, some are down to the nub while others are pretty grown out bc you only bite a select few please sort it out.

Look really good in red.

Your laptop has way too many tabs open from random google searches of words you didn’t know the meaning to.

You read a lot of books but for like 10 minutes at a time bc you have the attention span of a walnut.

You are the type of person to nuke your AO3 tags with things that aren’t even relevant purely bc you found them funny.

Your Tumblr drafts are a nightmare, you have like 100+ in the works yet keep starting new projects why do you do this.

Happy sunshine but you have a LOT of mood swings like that shit comes out of nowhere.

Cry pretty often but no one ever sees and it’s usually because of said mood swings.

You always smile and pick yourself up again though which I commend you for.

TYPES IN CAPITALS IN SITUATIONS THAT DO NOT REQUIRE SAID PUNCTUATION SO YOU SEEM LIKE YOU’RE YELLING ALL THE TIME.

#hq #haikyuu #nekoma #yaku morisuke #lev haiba #yamamoto taketora #kuroo testuro #kenma kozume #inuoka sou

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “Paper Man.”

VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED: GORE, VIOLENCE, MORAL AMBIGUITY

Ok guys, I am giving this a rated R for violence specifically. I wanted to play around with some extreme moral issues, and I ended up doing just that. So if you didn’t read the horror chapter, then I suggest very much not reading this one.

It is the third and last installment to my little prison series, so you can imagine what might be in here. I leave it up to you to decide if you can handle it or not. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. :)

I designed this specifically to expose Adam’s character to an extreme situation hes probably not emotionally equipped for.

Commander Vir wiped a smear of excess inc from the man’s skin and sat back to view his handiwork. He had to admit that he was definitely getting better now that he had figured out how to use the damned machine. Not to mention that he spent most of his free time drawing for fear that he was going to screw up and get his ass kicked.

In all honesty, he could have been a pretty talented artist if he had ever bothered to practice, but he hadn’t drawn, conventionally, since he was in middle school and, as a result, his drawing had suffered . However, now that he was in prison, he had a surprising amount of free time to work on extracurricular skills. If he wasn’t pumping iron with the others, he was working on a new tattoo design or applying the inc.

While it sucked pretty hard core to be here, he had found a relatively safe middle ground. Being able to do inc gave him certain privileges among the other humans, not to mention his personal connection to krill, who was invaluable as the crew’s medic. Having worked at the biggest trauma center in the galaxy, the kind of wounds they generally received was a cakewalk to the little alien.

The problem…..well, that was the Drev, and the fact that every human and their dog had, at one point, boasted to the larger, scarier aliens about having a member of operation steel-eye in their ranks. They did pretty much everything but directly mention his name, but they may as well have been dancing a naked jig around him with signs directed at his chest saying “Here I am come shank me.”

He wasn’t sure how well the goading would work with Drev. He had learned from Sunny, that a good Drev considered war to be impersonal, and those who beat you in battle were supposed to be treated with respect, but this was also coming from the Drev whose mother had gone off the deep end and plotted to destroy humanity, so he had a feeling he couldn’t rely on Drev honor to keep him from getting eviscerated.

He cleaned his tools off in the best way he knew how and allowed the man to finally take a look. He held his breath.

The man examined the tattoo for a very long moment, and for this horrible second, Adam feared he was about to be pounded into the concrete, “Good work Steel!” Instead, he got a heavy slap on the back, which probably would have slammed him into the pavement anyway for his trouble, but it simply sent him into a stagger, and the other man walked away flexing his arm. Adam grimaced. He wasn’t entirely sure had to do proper, post-art care was going to work down here, and just had to hope that the man wouldn’t end up with some sort of nasty infection.

His hopes were not particularly high.

At least Krill would be there to clean up the aftermath.

The rest of the humans were outside again today, but technically, all the facilities were open, still he preferred to go back upstairs to his cell for some privacy. He tucked the little case of tools into his single pocket and made his way into the building and towards the stairs. The Drev had taken the TV today and was watching some horrible remake of a classic 2000 movie. There were a lot of explosions and 0 practical effects.

Seemed like a drev thing to do, and he tried to remain unseen as he moved up the stairs and towards his cell. He made it there safely enough, got some privacy and, stupidly, stepped out just in time to meet a group of drev walking down the catwalk.

He froze just outside his room staring at them. They paused to look at him. No one moved for the longest time. Multiple arms flexed, and the large female at the front dropped her head aggressively over her throat. It didn’t take a genius to know what that meant, and before he knew it, his heart was hammering in his throat, his vision had tunneled, and his feet hammered against the catwalk as he bolted for the stairs.

A drev war cry rose behind him, and feet thundered against metal sending terrible vibrations up through his shins and knees. He made it to the stairs and nearly tripped. He caught himself with one hand watching as a life a paralysis flashed before his eyes. The thundering behind him grew stronger, so in a moment of panic, he flung himself over the side of the railing and dropped to the ground almost fifteen feet below. He took the entire impact through the inferior metal of his prosthetic leg collapsing onto the concrete with a sharp thud. Pain blossomed from that same same hip rocketing up his side and into his chest.

Something in the prosthetic snapped and splintered, but he didn’t have time to think about that, dragging himself to his feet and limping pst the tables, shoving other prisoners aside, and ducking past confused drev now being galvanized into action by the war cries of their leaders.

“RUN STEEL, RUN!” There was a thunderous roar, and a wave of humans came crashing into the tables stopping the Drev in their tracks as they tried to follow after Adam.

One prisoner wrenched a chair form the floor and clobbered a Drev in the head with it. Lights and sirens exploded around them as the guards came pouring onto the catwalks screaming for everyone to get down. The riot continued behind him as he scrambled on his busted prosthetic. He looked over his shoulder just in time to duck under the angry swing of an approaching Drev.

He hit the floor on hands and toes for a moment scrambling under a table before racing forward into one of the auxiliary hallways. A table collapsed behind him as the Drev leaped atop it. Cells flashed by him and footsteps gained.

More lights flashed, and the cell doors began to close slowly.

Footsteps were gaining, and were almost upon him as a hand shot out form one of the cells and bodily dragged him through the door, just as it was shutting. He collapsed to the concrete floor just as the Drev slammed into the bars reaching through for him with all four limbs, which it immediately regretted as a metal pipe was rammed into it’s outstretched hands. It cursed in it’s guttural language and drew back angrily.

Adam looked up to find a man standing just to his side. He was an unassuming thin man with little circular glasses, and a slightly soft physique, but he was grinning and stuck out his tongue out at the Drev who then stepped back growling and walked away knowing that he could not make it through the bars. The man dropped the pipe on the bed and turned to look at Adam.

“Close call there, Commander.”

Adam blinked in confusion and shock, “You, you know who I am?”

The man smiled, “Know who you are, I’d have to be living under a rock not to know. I have been following your career for a very long time. A big fan actually.” He held out a hand and hauled Adam to his feet, “Surprised the other's haven't figured it out yet, your disappearance has been all over the news.”

Adam limped over to the bed and sat down pulling up his pant leg to examine the damaged prosthetic. The plastic casing had been completely cracked up one side, and a few of the shock-absorbent springs had been popped from their sockets. The inside of the casing rattled. He frowned.

“I…. thanks for saving my life.”

The man just grinned, “happy to help an intergalactic hero.”

Adam awkwardly waved a hand, but inside he was more than relieved to have found someone who actually believed him. The man seemed pretty trustworthy compared to the others, and he wondered what kind of crime the man could have commuted to get himself into this sort of mess. He didn’t exactly seem like the type to be involved in overtly violent crime. Perhaps he was here on accident, just like Adam himself.

“I had actually been meaning to approach you earlier, but you got snagged up by the guys in the yard so fast, I didn’t really have the time.”

“And you weren't?” he wondered

The man shook his head, “No, I was a late night transfer. No one was here when I showed up, so I was able to fly under the radar. I don’t leave my cell all that much accept for meals, and they generally tend to ignore me.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It is, but it is also nice to have a little company every now and again. And the company of someone like you is even better. Someone who isn’t actually a violent criminal.”

“Than what are you here for if not violent crime.”

The man waved a hand, “Just something stupid. More of a misunderstanding really. Personally I think it was no big deal, but it really bothered some important people,and I ended up here. I Think they hope that I am going to rot here and be forgotten, but I don’t plan on that happening. I plan on serving my time, getting out and going back to my old life as it was.”

“That sounds nice, I would give pretty much anything to be back to my ship.” he sighed and leaned back against the concrete wall, “if I am being honest, It is nice to be around someone who isn’t totally nuts.”

“Personally, I think we should make this a habit.”

“Alright, I can agree to that…. What’s your name by the way?”

“Ted, Ted Gacey.” The two men shook hands, a pleasure to meet you.

The days turned into weeks and the weeks were dangerously close to turning into months. He had narrowly dodged a few more conflicts with the Drev, and the Boss had taken to sending him around with bodyguards as a show of force. That made slipping away to have privacy kind of difficult, but he had managed it meeting with his new friend on occasion to play cards in the other man’s single-bed cramped cell. It seemed as if the two of them had a lot in common, or at least enough. They had the same idea with current intergalactic politics, they had some of the same hobbies, and tended to agree with each other on more social issues.

It was a nice breath of fresh air.

Adam had even introduced krill to his new friend. Krill had been wary of the man from the beginning, but to be fair he was wary of pretty much everyone, and the Commander could hardly blame him. This was a prison after all, and most of the people who were here, were here for a reason, reasons they tended to make plainly obvious through their actions.

Despite being safeguarded from the Drev by other humans, he still wasn’t safe. On more than one occasion he had narrowly dodged some sort of altercation with one of the humans in the party. Generally it was over the asking price of a tattoo, which was based on yard currency in cigarettes and pills. Generally he ended up just handing them over to avoid an altercation. The issue with that is it meant some people knew they could squeeze him for his cash, and often came back to do so. He didn’t want to tell the boss for fear of being labeled a snitch, which was a pretty big insult in the yard, so he made sure to keep his earnings off his person at all times, and often lied to the guys when they came looking telling them that he had lost his currency to another guy with the same idea.

He wasnt looking forward to the day when the lying would catch up with him, but so was his current life. Of course there was also the occasional issue regarding his issue in holding his tongue, and he had ended up accidentally insulting someone on more than one occasion. He had been punched at least twice in the intervening months, but he supposed it could have been worse. He hadn’t broken his nose and both eye sockets were still in tact, so it could have been worse.

His third Issue came from Krill himself. While the little alien was mostly to fearful to do anything other than what he was ordered to do, he had an unfortunate sarcastic streak, which got him into trouble on occasion. Adam was forced to either talk the guys down, or turn the wrath away from his friend often resulting in a drop in pay, some sort of bargain or taking a hit. He was getting pretty sick and tired of it.

If he was being totally honest with himself, he had a relatively low pain threshold. He didn’t like getting kicked around. He wanted out of this place so badly, but the longer the days dragged on, the less hope he had. It was only a matter of time until something truly horrible happened, and there would be no way for him to stop it. How much was he willing to deal with?

He woke up as the hand clamped over his mouth. His eyes shot open, but his scream was muffled as the heavy, slick palm pressed into his face. He trashed against hands that held him down, but they were too strong. In groggy horror and fear he realized this was it, this was the end.

The event he had been waiting for.

The hand tightened, “Stop struggling, and shut up for a minute.” The voice hissed.

He grew very still breathing heavy, ragged breaths through his nose heart hammering eyes prickling with moisture brought on by total fear.

“It’s just me Steel, the boss. Now, I am going to remove my hand, and you are going to be silent.” A hint of relief, and he nodded his head as the hand was removed. He took a clear cleansing air of the musty cell and sat up.

The boss knelt next to his bed with krill hovering nervously behind him.

He rubbed his eyes, “What’s going on?” Adam asked groggily

The man held a finger to his lips “The boys and I just got word of someone on this block that has a less than stellar record.” Adam didn’t bother to point out the irony as the man continued, “This will be your chance to prove your loyalty to the yard kid. In the morning, we are going to fuck this son of a bitch up.”

Adam rubbed the back of his head nervously, “What…. What did he do.”

“Why don’t you take a look for yourself.” the man whispered, passing over a tiny screen showing the man’s incarceration records. As he read, Adam’s stomach twisted and hisirst reaction was one of visceral anger and an incomprehensible burning hatred. He tried to choke it back disgusted with his own feelings, but they kept coming back…. Images of his fists bloody with someone else’s blood.

The Boss chuckled darkly, “Thought you might have that reaction. You know how I feel about people who hurt kids.”

Adam wiped his mouth feeling nauseous pushing the screen back towards the boss

“So when you say, fuck him up.”

“I mean, we’re gonna kill him.”

Adam was suddenly struck with the most uncomfortable sensation in his entire life, a horrible sinking twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach negated and confused by the ravenous anger and glee that he felt at the idea. The feeling was horrible wrenching him in two different directions. One spoke with the voice of his mother and urged him to take the high road. It wasn’t his job to take care of these sort of problems, it was never okay to hurt people that is what the law was for, but another part of him disagreed. This was a lawless planet, and the law was broken besides it didn’t matter after reading that report he knew for certain that the an deserved worse than death, so really killing him was a mercy.

The nausea grew worse the more he thought. He was stuck inside a living nightmare. He couldn’t make a decision like this. Either way he would never be able to live with himself. If he chose to go along with he prisoners, he would be partially responsible for a murder, but if he didn’t he would, in essence, be siding with a monster.

The boss glowered at him with his dark, beady eyes, “You aren't going to chicken out on us are you? You know what this guy did. Not going to side with him are you because if you don’t help us ...”

He let the threat hang on the dark air of the cell. Adam felt his heart sinking even further, and now if he didn’t help murder someone he would be taking the side of the monster, and everyone would blame him for it. Who knows what would happen to him after that. He glanced over at Krill who could only look on at him in pity. He probably had no idea the internal struggle he was having right now, but it hardly mattered. Krill knew that this wasn’t going to be good.

“Who is this guy….” Adam wondered, “Someone we know?”

The man scrolled down on the report, “The guy’s name is Ted, seems to have managed to fly under the radar since getting here.”

Adam felt his heart go cold.

No no no no please no.

The screen turned to face him, and his stomach dropped into the very void itself. He knew that face, he knew that face as a friend, someone he liked, someone he had confided in, someone he had respected, someone he assumed had been innocent. He had played cards with him bemoaned their current living situation. The man had told him his crime was ‘no big deal. He felt nauseous and angry all over again. How could he help kill someone he had liked. How could he even feel remorse for a lying sack of shit that DESERVED to die. Why did he feel bad for WANTING to choke the life out of that man.

The competing emotions made him sick for real. His stomach churned.

The boss patted him on the back, “I know as a matter of course that the guy comes out once a day to eat. Tomorrow at noon, we strike. Made a truce with the bats and the beetles to get in the way of the guards so we can finish the job.”

“But… you hate the Drev.” he whispered his voice choked.

“I do, but I hate this guy even more.” He stood stretching, “I will leave you to a good night’s rest, Steel. Make sure you have your strength for tomorrow.” He got up and left as silently as he had come. Krill remained floating at the side of the cell. Commander Vir remained paralyzed where he sat. Conversations flashed through his head, he remember the man’s face, and couldn’t help his imagination as he wondered how those kids felt. Then his imaginings grew violent. He felt tendons squeeze and pop below his hands as he choked the life out of that man.

He lurched violently from his bed bracing himself with one hand against the wall as he hovered over the toilet. Behind him, his cellmate shifted in his sleep. His mouth watered as it tends to right before one loses their lunch. He squeezed his eyes shut. His skin crawled as he remembered every time that man had touched him, thought about where those hands had been and what they had done.

Saliva dripped in silver strings from his mouth. His stomach clenched. He dry heaved once, but nothing came up, and it didn’t even give him the courtesy of happening fading enough so he stood back up wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Krill stood worriedly next to him as he sunk down to the floor next to the shiny silver bowl face in his hands

“What are you going to do?” krill whispered.

“I… I don’t know.” he gripped his hair in both fists still nauseous feeling sick and disgusting wishing that he could scrub off the first layer of his skin. Wishing that he had never ended up in this hell hole, “You only have one option….. You have to do it…” Krill’s voice was regretful but clearly resigned.

He dragged his fingers down his face, “I ...I can’t. It wouldn’t be right.” His stomach churned.

Krill stared at him in confusion sensing a but.

“But…. I want to…. Krill he he LIED to me, and he…. The things he’s done.” he shook his head as a flash of inhuman or perhaps superhuman anger rushed through him, “he deserves to DIE!” Krill took a step back from him in surprise. The anger faded again to a dep profound sickness, “Krill I… I don’t know what to do. Killing people it isn’t right, hurting people isn’t right, no matter how much I want to do it…… and i want to do it Krill. I've never wanted anything so bad before. I it scares me.” His voice dropped to a whisper.

Krill rested one of his appendages on the man’s shoulder face buried back in his hands, “I don’t entirely understand.”

He looked up agonized green eye caught in the dim light of the cell, “I…. he deserves to die Krill…. After reading that. I want nothing more than to kill him. That’s the most monstrous inhuman horrible thing that a person can do, and every…. Every fiber of my being want to hurt him, wants to make him suffer.” His voice hissed through his teeth with the strength of his anger before churning downwards, “But ... but I’m supposed to be better than that, Krill. Commander of the UNSC I am an upholder of the law, I i cant stoop to beating people to death. I can't do this. If I did this I would just prove I’m not worthy to hold the position, and I would disappoint everyone who has ever known me I’d disappoint myself. Id become one of them.” He glanced towards the door, “Thi issue is supposed to be something for the law.” He tugged at his hair in frustration, “But the law here is so twisted….. Krill I…. I don’t know what to do.”

Krlil Could only stand and watch helpless as the human struggled internally. Krill himself understood what was logical. The idea of a moral right and wrong was not something he could entirely comprehend. Things either made sense, or they didn’t and right now following rule of the gang was the only thing that made sense. The guy deserved it, the commander wanted too, and he would be punished if he didn’t, so there seemed to be only one logical course of action.

But then again, the man had always had a strong ‘moral compass’ and it could potentially cause some severe psychological damage if he did…. Something that other species would never have to deal with. Either way he would lose.

Krill tried to comfort his friend, but paranoia made him return to his cell for fear of retribution leaving Commander Vir alone in the dark curled in a ball head in hands wishing more than anything that he could be anywhere else than struggling with his own indecision. The gut most human part of him leading to violence while the higher part of him told him it was wrong.

He didn’t sleep that night.

The star rose on an unsuspecting landscape. The prison doors opened with a buzz and prisoners staggered rubbing their eyes groggily as they moved out into the hall. Commander Vir stepped from his room like a zombie eyes red face pale, only to be greeted by the other members of the crew who shared wolfish, knowing looks.

He didn’t have the stomach for breakfast, and sat, staring down the hall with a hammering heart. The hours ticked on bringing him closer and closer to a decision.

His heart ached.

Sitting out in the yard, head bowed face down, he still hadn’t come to a decision. He could hear the other humans muttering around him with anticipation for what was to come. He wished the guards would take notice of the strange behavior and act on it. They had to know something was up, with the prisoners sitting around doing nothing, looking hungrily towards the mess hall doors like a pack of ravening animals.

He didn’t want any part of this.

He had never thought in a million years that he would have to make this sort of decision, and what was worse, he hated how he felt. He wanted nothing more than to watch this guy get what was coming to him.

If he really was a good person, if he really cared, wouldn’t he tell someone?

There was a sharp whistle, and all the men on the yard stood eagerly from their seats and headed towards the doors. His heart sank into his chest, and he stood but had trouble making himself move. A hand clamped about hi shoulder from behind, and he was shoved towards the open doors, “Don’t chicken out on us now Steel.” Smiley whispered from behind.

He was pushed through the door sitting down at a table slightly away from the others. He had ordered Krill off to his cell for the duration of what was about to happen. He didn’t want the little alien to have to see what was about to happen. If he could have, he would have made it so that HE didn’t have to see what was going on.

He didn’t see how the guards couldn’t sense what was about to happen. The tension in the air was palpable and could have been hacked through with a dull knife. He closed his eyes and breathed through his nose, hoping that the man would not come through those doors. Perhaps he would stay in his cell today, and no one would be the wiser. Perhaps someone would come and find him before this was all said and done, and he wouldn’t have to hear about it.

He tried to fight back those thoughts, the thoughts of a coward. Just because he wasn’t here didn’t mean that he should ignore it. He couldn't’ just wash his hands of the situation

He SHOULD get up and tell the guards what was going to happen and consequences be damned.

But another part of him, a secret dark part of him….. Refused to bring himself to do it. That man knew what he did. He had made the decisions that brought him here, he had done something unforgivable and disgusting, and now he deserved to get what was coming to him, it was only fair after all the things he had done. It wasn’t Adam’s responsibility to go out of his way to help a man who deserved nothing better than death. In fact, death was to easy of a punishment in his opinion.

There were just some things that were unforgivable.

He felt, rather than saw when the man entered. He sensed it on the tensing of the air. Even the Drev had chosen to make themselves scarce retreating to their cells or the catwalks high above to watch what was about to happen. It seemed as if only the guards didn’t know. Or perhaps they did, and they didn’t care.

He sat hunched over his trey praying, and felt his heart tighten when a shadow darkened the seat across from him.

He couldn’t bare to look up.

“Good morning, Commander. I missed your company this morning.” The sound of the man’s voice made his skin crawl. His heart began to race and he felt a sudden overwhelming burst of white hot hatred. The feeling scared him, and he tried his best to choke it down, but it wouldn’t go. Sensing the man there, hearing his sniveling voice and thinking about the times they had made contact with each other. Handing over a card or even shaking hands.

It made him sick, and angry.

He made no noise.

“Is everything alright.” The man wondered.

Another shadow crossed over his back. He could feel them gathering behind him. The man before him went silent head tilted back to look upwards at the looming figures beginning to gather around the table.

A hand landed on the Commander’s shoulder, “Steel…. This…. A friend of yours.” the voice was cold and hard.

There was a long silence.

“I don’t want any trouble.”

The hand on his shoulder squeezed, “Steel.”

Commander Vir lifted his eyes from the table, making contact with the pleading expression of the man across the table. His watery grey eyes, his unassuming appearance, his receding mousy hairline. He looked like your average middle-aged man…. No, he was a monster wearing the skin of an average middle aged man.

Commander Vir felt as if he was watching himself in third person over his own shoulder. The boyish, wide eyed, honorable side of him was violently beaten down and dragged into a closet as something worse appeared materialized from the darkness in his head. The natural man took the controls cold and hard empty emotionless a creature of self satisfaction, the Id, the part of him that wanted nothing more than immediate reward, sadistic, hateful, envious, and carnal.

It had no mercy.

And it was as if from the opposite side of the glass he heard himself say.

“No….. he’s no friend of mine.”

And like his words had been the damn that held back hell, the hounds were released, and a moment later the room was filled with the uproar of screaming voices and cries of horrific animalistic agony.

Adam was pushed to the side, and the table at which he sat was overturned as a riot of men threw themselves past him. He hit the floor and rolled to the side coming to land in a crouch just to the right of the overturned table. The room echoed and clattered.

Screams of absolute agony cut through the air. Sirens blared red and bloody painting the walls in a hellish light.

Something cracked.

Screaming.

He crouches watching a writing mass of bodies, a horrific amalgamation of man’s worst instincts piled together in a many legged many armed creatures. Hands raised and plunged downwards violently, repeatedly. Blood painted the floor like a Jackson Pollock painting done in red. The screaming grew until it was no longer human, a guttural animalistic wale that rent the very air around them.

They were tearing him apart.

Adam felt the corner of his mouth twist in grim satisfaction, and then immediately snapped back to reality choked with disgust and horror. Rooted to the spot doing NOTHING watching a man being murdered before his eyes, and yet...

In the midst of it all, he couldn’t bring himself to intervene.

A hand grabbed him by the shoulder shoving him forward, “GET IN THERE.” The boss growled hand coming away covered in blood. A small part of himself, that animal from earlier snarled at the door to his cage.

A part of him wanted more than anything to join in.

Watched in satisfaction as he got what was coming to him. He relished the poetic justice of it all, while at the same time feeling disgust at himself. The world around him seemed to flow in slow motion. Small droplets of blood leaped into the air where they caught the light before falling back to earth. Something else cracked.

He felt his heart jumped with a sick excitement.

“No.” he whispered

The world lost all sound. The screaming faded and died. The boss cut around to look down at him, “What.”

“I said, no.” he whispered again.

A body skidded past them on the floor ragged, torn.

Eyes narrowed, anger flared in the depth of two black pupils. He rose in Adam’s vision, “You would side with the FREAK!” “I side with NO ONE .” Adam spat.

The man stared at him, a once, predatory friendliness turned to ice, “You will wish you had never been born.” but he had more immediate matters to attend to, turning and joining the climax of the fight. Adam remained rooted to the spot sick horrified as bone snapped, and the body went silent and limp.

They didn’t stop there….. They kept going on and on and on as Commander Vir stood on and watched. The tables had all been overturned, blood painted the floor in wide arcs. And there he stood doing nothing, neither joining or helping. Holding back like a coward, like some kind of sadistic animal looking on like an unfeeling king watches an execution, watches men women and children hang from a rope. The men pulled away from the bloody husk twisted and broken on the ground, and at that moment Adam Vir was hit with a sense of horror and self loathing he couldn’t have comprehended even ten minutes before. The bloodied corpse grew up in his vision until it filled his head, dead staring eyes boring into his soul, a snapshot that would remain with him forever.

A man he had condemned to death with his actions and his words.

He was a sick twisted bastard.

And he had allowed a man to die…. Had encouraged it with his innaction, had wanted it. And deep down, he had relished it in a deep sick part of his mind he felt no remorse.

He was glad the sick fuck was gone.

Perhaps that’s why he stayed, he could have run knowing what was coming, but he didn’t deserve to run. He didn’t deserve to fight back. He didn’t even close his eyes as the circle closed in around him, men covered in blood like a pack of hyenas feeding on carrion returning to finish off a wounded prey animal.

The boss stopped a few feet in front of him, body painted with the world’s most horrific body paint, “Now that we’ve gotten rid of one sick fuck, we now have to get rid of the sympathizers.”

He saw the first coming, could have dodged…. But he didn’t.

HE was hauled to his feet by smiley jerked off his feet by the front of his jumpsuit. Hoisted into the air so that his toes were dangling inches from the ground. Lights grew up in his eyes as he stared upwards watching the balconies and the surrounding Drev staring down at him like the council at his trial their expressions uncaring…. Even pleased.

“You had your orders.” The man spat. “And you stood there like a coward.”

Adam locked eyes with the man, “You;re right.” He said simply

The first punch was a kidney shot and had him on the ground writhing in agony within the first few seconds. It was hard to remember what happened next. The boot to the face, kicked in the side, the chest ribs. He was punched in the head, it was all a blur of faces all anger and malice. People who had once considered him a friend now drove their bodies against him in a frenzy that painted his blood across the floor with that of a deadman.

The latch to his prosthetic snapped. Metal was ripped away from his body.

He screamed once, was kicked in the stomach and choked on his own missing air. But he didn’t fight them, he didn’t deserve to fight them.

He curled up into a ball forearms covering his face and despite the pain and the agony, he refused to pass out. He didn't deserve that. Inside his head visions of that bloody…. Thing repeated over and over and over again

Voices swelled up around him, yelling and barking. Men cried out in pain, and with one last kick to his thigh, he was left lying in a pool of his own blood face resting against the cold concrete/ Voices rose above him, grabbing him about the arms and dragging him away. He heard the voices of the guards, watched the lights overhead pass over him in sharp streaks. Something warm trickled down the side of his face. Spilled onto the floor to be smeared into the concrete.

A door opened, and he was thrown inside.

A concrete room with no windows, a steel door, no bed and a hole in the far corner.

In tremendous pain, the man pulled himself sitting back on his knees and stared down at his hands covered in congealing blood once steady. As he watched they began to shake uncontrollably. He hunched forward hands to his chest face contorted into an expression of pain, and agony, not from the wounds, ot from the pain, but from the realization of what he had done.

A sob escaped him, and he didn’t try to fight it. His body ached with horrific pain with every racking sob. Tears tracked pathways through the blood on his face and fell to the ground a delicate pink.

What had he done?

He had sat there, and he had watched a man brutally murdered. And he had done nothing about it….. A part of him had even enjoyed it.

He watched in turmoil as the picture he had crafted of himself shattered into a million pieces and cascaded around him to the floor. The upstanding, moral man who always did what he knew was right, who was taught by loving parents to take the high road, who modeled himself after superheroes, action heroes, and his own idols. Someone who protected the innocent, upheld the weak and righted the unjust…. Was nothing more than a paper man.

A sham.

A fake.

A lie.

He sobbed into his hands which morphed into screams with the sobs were no longer enough to express his self loathing. What kind of man was he, couldn't even stand by his actions once they were made weeping like a pathetic child.

He lay, cold on the floor for hours and hours staring at the far wall listening to the distant echoes of the prison. As he calmed he took stock of himself swept up the pieces so that he was all together despite being broken.

Though he wished it had never happened, he could change nothing now. He had done what he had done. The ends didn’t justify the means, and just because he hadn’t done anything didn’t mean blood wasn’t on his hands. How could he know what was right do you save a monster because it's morally right, or stand by and watch a monster die because that’s what it really deserves. What gave him the right to make that decision.

He lay there for what must have been hours but could have been days his skin growing sticky and then crusted with drying blood. The door to his cell opened, “Get up.” When he couldn’t do it on his own, he was hauled to his feet by one of the guards. Together they walked, and hopped, back down the halls and onto the yard. The entire room was quiet as they stared at him.

He couldn't have cared less that they could see him in such a sorry state, what did it matter now. The paper man had crumbled, they might as well see it. He was left sagging on one leg in the center of the room, and he didn’t bother to move. The men got to their feet glowering down at him with a mixture of expressions. Time moved around him as if at double speed

A figure scuttled towards him from the darkness, and to his surprise, krill took his hand.

He had never done anything like that before.

He looked down.

And the alien looked up at him, though he said nothing.

The room grew tighter, men approached from all sides, “Krill, you should go.” His slurred through swollen, painful lips.

“No Commander.” krill responded

The guard withdrew, and the room shifted forward. This time he did close his eyes. It was one thing to see another man die, but to watch Krill caught up in this was to much. He tried to urge the little alien away once more, but he refused, wrapping his spidery arms around his human friend all too sure that he was going to die here.

But if that was the case, he would not let his human die alone and suffering.

Adam leaned his head against Krill eyes tight shut.

“It’s going to be ok.” The alien muttered

Adam felt a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.How very human….

Empty platitudes.

The little alien had learned a lot.

A shadow cut past them. He lowered his head.

And the room was split in half by a Drev battle cry so powerful that it rattled the walls and the floors. The man above them staggered back hands over his ears. The catwalks clattered, and the ground shook. Adam opened his eyes lifting them towards the sky, not expecting to find an angel, but getting one in bright blue.

Sunny stood on the catwalk above face contorted with a livid anger that cowed guards, drev and humans alike, “WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE.” She snarled at the human standing next to her, turning and shoving Drev two to three feet taller than her out of the way with the ease a bowling ball goes through pins.

The human scampered after her, “We… we had no idea.”

Sunny rounded on here, “DID YOU EVEN BOTHER TO FIND OUT.” Behind her, a member of the UN and the chairwoman of the GA stepped through the doors faces shocked and appalled as they looked about the room and the conditions in which the prisoners were being kept.

Sunny came to to toe with the leader of the Drev yard. At first the large female didn’t move, but a single look from sunny cowed her into groveling submission as sunny shoved past and marched down the stairs. She nearly body checked one of the prisoners over the railing and onto the floor fifteen feet beneath when he did not move fast enough.

Leaving the Chairwoman and the representative above, Sunny raced across the floor and skidding to kneel at Adam’s side. He lifted his head to look at her dried blood cracking against the movement.

A look of pain crossed her face, and a single hand gently cupped the side of his face tilting it this way and that, “Oh Adam, what have they done.” She whispered

The light above him grew very very bright filling his vision with light, “I’m a paper man,” He whispered, but that was all he could say body slumping into her arms. A murmur grew up around the room.

Sunny hugged the human against her chest.

“Commander!.” Two voices from above, and two marines came leaping down the stairs heedless of their uniforms.. Ramirez and the short, blond hair female marine ‘Maverick’.

“The hell did they do to you.” The Maverick snarled glowering at the other prisoners standing quietly back in a wide circle.

Their discussion was interrupted as the warden stepped onto the catwalk, ‘I DON'T GIVE A SHIT WHO YOU ARE; YOU HAVE NO JURISDICTION HERE!” “THE HELL WE DON’T.” The UN rep snapped, “By GA law, any HUMAN allowed off earth or mars remains under the jurisdiction of the UNSC in accordance with the first intercelestial peace accord put forth by the GA in 4018. Furthermore all Tesraki Drev and Rundi subjects are bound by GA bylaw, so YES we have jurisdiction, and we have allowed this to continue long enough. FURTHERMORE.” he said speaking up over the protests of the warden, “You have violated at LEAST 50 intergalactic bylaws, and amendments. What is this 2001, we know what humanity is by now AT LEAST. Not to mention that we show up here and find one of our Commanding officers kneeling in a pool of his own blood, only to learn that you didn’t even bother to verify his identity.”

“He had no prints in the system.” The man snarled

“ONE PHONE CALL. JUST ONE PHONE CALL. And that is not even TOUCHING on his right to counsel, or a fair trial. We don’t just THROW people in prison based on circumstantial evidence. He was sent here to get down to the problem of intergalactic hormone trade only to be beaten half to death by men no better than animals in a prison, the likes of which we haven't seen since the late 2000s. You sir are a DISGRACE to the ENTIRE HUMAN RACE.” Commander Vir was only half listening idly staring at the lights as someone wiped blood from his face.

“Get him up.”

Someone ducked under one of his arms and he was hauled to his feet. He tried his best to keep one leg under him, but was finding he wasn’t a great amount of help. Maverick supported his one side, while sunny took the other. Ramirez, based on a look, made it very clear what would happen if any of them tried anything grabbing krill by the hand and pulling him along.

It all felt like a dream as the steel catwalk passed below him, and the doors slid open. The prison faded behind him into a maze of hallways.

He was out, he was free.

…. He was finally……

Free.

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