#and to let new arcs have room to flourish | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bernraccnt · 2 years

Text

weeds (snake x gn! bear! reader)

before u read: childhood friends to lovers arc hehehehe, a really fucking long fic i must admit, slow burn???, wholesome ngl, implied parental abuse if you squint, while writing this i learned snake is 50 and now it ruined my plot so :(, the last part of the fic is straight up just the movie, a little bit of wolf x reader if you squint harder now that im looking at it

snake first met you all the way back in elementary school, during third-grade.

he was a shy guy back then, clinging onto his friendship with wolf with whatever hope he could. all the other little kids were beyond terrified of the two of them at that point, so it wasn’t like they had very many options on who to befriend in the first place.

they had a dedicated corner in the classroom, many seats empty around them. the third-grade teacher hadn’t seen anything wrong with this blatant avoidance, hell, they even encouraged it some days. to the humans around the room, they were nothing but trouble.

it hurt snake’s feelings at first, especially when he tried to invite some of them to his ninth birthday party a few months back. no one had shown up (just like the years before) and wolf hadn’t been transferred into his class at the time, so he was left feeling empty, lonely. looking back, he could directly tie that third-grade class to when he started to despise the world and how it worked. the way that he and wolf were treated like a few weeds from a flourishing flower garden jumpstarted a deep seated hatred.

but something was new one wednesday morning and that was when snake had met you.

he and wolf were coloring together, using their well-loved, worn crayons to make a masterpiece out of the snoopy coloring book wolf’s mom had bought them. wolf was a loud kid, always spoke his mind whenever he could and never let a moment pass without asking snake a crazy question. like right now...

“would you rather... eat your old skin.... oorrrrr....” while they were coloring, wolf looked up in thought, trying to come up with something good enough to make snake laugh. that was one of his favorite past times. “or--! or eat my shaved fur?”

snake let out a comically loud gag, making many heads turn in their direction from the sound. this gesture made wolf start laughing loudly, enjoying the reaction he pulled out of his friend. his laughter was contagious, and snake couldn’t help himself either, the two of them giggling up a storm together.

“that’s so gross!” snake cried with a cringe, sticking his tongue out playfully. “why would i eat either?”

“you gotta choose!” wolf urged, golden eyes sparkling with mischief. “choose, choose, choose!” snake looked like he’d rather die than pick either or, but the big grin on his face said that he was still enjoying this interaction.

thankfully, before this disgusting choice could be made, their teacher had called for the attention of all the students in the class. her usually complacent smile was twinged with a hint of nervous energy, something both boys had picked up on.

snake recognized this look. he saw it on her face when his mom had introduced him to the teacher and when wolf was transferred into the classroom. that can only mean--

“kids, we have a new student joining us today!” wow, her voice was shaking! that was a first for all the kids. nervous glances were being shared around the classroom and even wolf and snake gave each other a confused shrug. “they moved here all the way from the artic! isn’t that exciting?”

well, that caught everyone’s attention. chatter rose around the room between all the kids, wondering who on earth would move from artic to their small little town in california? that’s like exact opposite climate!

“do you think they lived in an igloo?” wolf murmured, tail wagging rapidly behind him. a new person meant a new chance to befriend someone! and he wouldn’t mind trying his hand at befriending someone. unlike snake, he wasn’t wholly discouraged in befriending others.

snake gasped dramatically, eyes wide. “do you think they went fishing every morning for breakfast?” both he and wolf had their mouths in an o shape, excited to meet someone from a new continent.

the teacher felt nervous sweat building on the back of her neck as she walked over to the closed door. the new student behind it would definitely freak out her students, she was aware. fuck, why was she the teacher that got all the bad seeds? she cursed up a storm in her mind as she slowly pulled the door open and motioned for her newest student to step inside.

silence washed over the classroom and almost all the children’s expressions fell fearfully. taking unnaturally quiet steps inside was a polar bear cub. their fur was shaggy but neatly combed, covering their eyes from the room and they wore a nice orange sweater on top of it. despite being a bear, they seemed like they could’ve fit in with the other kids at first glance.

but then, a little girl with pigtails let out a shriek, causing a chain reaction of hysteria among the children. the polar bear flinched at the loudness, watching as the teacher tried to get a hold of all the students. but, everyone could see how terrified she was of her newest student herself.

only two students didn’t scream, they didn’t panic at all. in fact, they shared a hopeful smile with one another, not having to say a word to know what the other was thinking.

just like that, another weed was added to the bunch.

the new student was assigned the seat in front of wolf. seeing nowhere better to put them, the teacher decided to keep all the “bad kids” together and tried to ignore them for the most part.

that afternoon, during recess, was when wolf and snake decided to actually talk to the bear. wolf marched up to the bench they sat at and smiled down at them, holding his hand out with a flourish. “hi! my name’s wolf and this is my best buddy, snake! we sit behind you in class, what’s your name?”

the polar bear looked up slowly, moving almost sluggishly, and glanced between the two boys. they gently took wolf’s hand and shook it, muttering their name softly under their breath. despite it being such a quiet introduction, it only further heightened wolf and snake’s excitement.

that afternoon, wolf and snake introduced you to their personalized card game. they chose to ignore how you didn’t know anything about their favorite tv shows or games, or the fact that you didn’t enjoy talking in general. and they both perked up when you smiled brightly after winning their game, despite it only being your third round playing.

snake, at first, saw you as another friend. just like him and wolf, you were unfairly treated just for being the way you were. you were the quietest person he interacted with, often spooking him without meaning to just by walking next to him. you also didn’t say much about yourself, other than explaining that you lived in a foster home with a few others and that you missed artic.

and boy, snake found your love of the cold continent interesting. it was the one topic anyone could get you to talk about for over five minutes. you described the ice caps and cold waters with such detail that he felt like he knew the area just as well as you did.

years passed and soon enough, you, wolf, and snake became as thick as thieves. the more the teachers and the other kids deemed you as villainous bad guys, the more you began to lean into that reputation. by the time you all were in your second year of middle school, there were actual reasons to the townspeople’s fear of you three.

puberty had begun to hit all three of you by this point in time and everyday didn’t pass with a few laughs at wolf’s voice cracking or groans of disgust when snake’s skin would randomly just peel off. you also started growing and growing, easily having a foot and some inches on wolf. (who used to be the tallest) this was also when your personalities began to tweak with these new changes.

snake, now having no hopes of being considered normal, had turned a new leaf. he was bordering on cynical, finding reasons to fight other kids just because he could. he became mean and rough, spewing insults left and right. but, he remained soft when it came to you two. mostly. sometimes he got real nasty when one of you would best him at poker.

in what felt like overnight, wolf suddenly became obsessed with girls. any moment spent with him that wasn’t involving petty theft or beating up kids who picked on you guys was dedicated to listening to him ramble on and on about how his newest crush would be the one. you and snake knew otherwise, having watched wolf get his feelings trampled on time and time again, but like the good friends you were, decided to encourage him every time anyways. who knows, maybe the next girl will be the one.

somehow, you remained the most consistent to your younger self. still quiet, but now you were able to hold up some decent conversations on a good day. you preferred the company of your friends and was willing to intimidate anyone trying to get under your skin. wolf and snake witnessed as you turned into a more confident being, calling out teachers when they would treat you three unfairly and even arguing with adults in higher places.

it was a welcome change for all three of you to have a more realistic world view. wolf, though optimistic at heart, poured his attention into making grand thefts against the people who had wronged you, and snake was starting to grow an affinity for sneaking into places he probably shouldn’t be at. and for a while, you didn’t really have an interest in their past time of crime.

well, until you found yourself sitting in seventh-grade biology.

your love for the random labs with chemicals and how science worked had led wolf and snake to sneak you back into the lab one night. and that was when you discovered chemical explosions.

and boy, you loved chemical explosions. with how some of them smoked heavily and covered you in a blanket of opaque gas and how others were so bright that it burned your eyes, it made you feel like now you had a place in their crimes. you could offer chaos as a distraction.

so, finding your niche, you solidified your scary trio. wolf as the strategist, snake as the sleuth, and yourself as the distractor. and the rest of your years in that tiny town in california went without a hitch.

you all stood united when snake was expelled and had to transfer to the delinquency school the next town over.

his mom was heartbroken, yelling and screaming at her only son after he came home with the police and the principal. snake was just as upset, never wanting to disappoint the only family member he had.

you and wolf had found him later that night, curled up in a cardboard box a few blocks from his home. snake was quiet, dejected as wolf picked him up and handed him to you, all three of you embracing quietly as snake muttered about how he didn’t want to make his mom hate him.

“she’ll come around, buddy.” wolf hummed, stroking the back of his head. “and we won’t let it get too bad. we can stop by and pick you up after school.”

“i’ll find a tandem bike.” you offered, squeezing both boys in your arms. now that you were fourteen going on fifteen, you had finally stopped growing, but still easily towered over your friends. “and we can attach a wagon just for you, snake.”

the mental image of you and wolf speeding down the road on a tandem bike quickly snapped snake out of his sadness, as he cackled into your shoulders. you and wolf shared a huge grin as your shortest friend laughed and laughed over the idea of you two carting him around like that.

he pulled away after a while, allowing you and wolf to wipe his face of dried tears. “promise you won’t forget about me?” he asked, worried that you two would grow bored and tired of maintaining a friendship over a longer distance.

wolf playfully squeezed snake’s head. “what makes you think i’m just gonna toss out five years of friendship for a hop, skip, and a jump away?” he chastised him, shaking him around like snake was a toy. “you’re more stupid than i thought.”

“you’re our friend, snake.” your voice rumbled from the back of your throat as you pulled them closer to you. both boys made grunting noises from the force behind your hug, but didn’t even consider pulling away. “neither of us are leaving you.”

snake started crying again, wrapping himself around you both and squeezing you so hard that it felt like you were going to split in half.

at sixteen, you were there to help wolf after his dad finally died to alcohol poisoning.

it took you and snake hours to find him, only having a few townspeople actually help you in your search by telling you where they had seen him last. with the hot, summer rain beating down on you both, you grew more and more worried the longer it took to find him.

“wolf!” snake did all the yelling, curled over your shoulders as you ran up and down streets. “wolf, buddy! wolf!” the rain made you feel heavier, your fur weighing you down and tiring you far faster than you’d like to be.

you tripped over your feet and when you hair flew up from your eyes for a moment, you spotted a familiar patch of grey in between two houses across the street. immediately, you sprinted over and sighed in relief when you saw wolf crying into his hands behind a trashcan.

dropping to your knees, you embraced him, allowing snake to move off of your shoulders and to hold onto his best friend as well. wolf sobbed and sobbed, grabbing onto your sweater and burying his head into you.

rather than try and distract him, snake rested his head ontop of wolf’s and nuzzled against him. “we’re right here. you’re not alone. we have you, buddy.” he murmured into wolf’s ear.

and you sat there for hours, allowing the rain to soak you to your bone and waiting for wolf to stop crying. he pulled back afterwards, not bothering wiping his face when he as already wet. “he was a piece of shit but...” he tried to voice his reasonings, but he didn’t know how to.

snake and you softly shushed him, nodding with bitter smiles. “we get it, man. we really do.” you wiped his hair backwards. “and we’ll be here as long as you want us.”

that night was one spent outdoors, underneath an abandoned bus stop as you and snake began to tell a wild and crazy story about how a wolf, a snake, and a bear (who totally weren’t you three) became the world’s greatest criminals. it was a poorly done story but did its job in making wolf feel better for the remainder of the night.

and both boys were there for you when you finally cracked open and explained your reason to moving to the states.

“my parents weren’t great people.” you expressed one night, all three of you laying in some stranger’s trampoline. the sky was clear, but the light pollution made it hard to see any stars. “they did a lot of illegal things and got away with it because we lived in a remote area.”

by this point, you all were eighteen. old enough to drink with adult supervision, wolf always reminded you. and you all were more than old enough to recognize when something important was being said, as both wolf and snake turned to you.

for clarification, wolf tilted his head. “you mean your foster parents or...”

“my real parents, back in artic.” a silence fell over the three of you, wolf and snake patiently waiting for the whole story. “they sold drugs, never told me or my siblings about it. and got so good at it that we had cops from all over trying to take them down.”

a hand and a tail placed themselves in your hands, with wolf smoothing your fur down while snake squeezed in reassurance. “so, did a cop bring you here?” snake asked.

you shook your head with a humorless huff. “some agents raided my house. while my mom tried to make us run away, i fell into an export crate and got shipped to some science place in silicon valley. i almost died, went one week without food or water.” wolf sat up and turned to you with the world’s saddest gaze. “it’s alright. i got saved when they found me in there and they put me into the system.”

“but...” even snake looked horrified by this, curling into the space between your neck and your shoulder. “but that must’ve been scary. a week with nothing but yourself.”

“it was.” you didn’t deny it, being in that crate still haunted you years down the line. “but, it brought me here. and i don’t know what happened to my family, but i don’t need them when i have you both.”

those words changed something in snake. while wolf blubbered and hugged you dramatically, snake eyed you with something new in his eyes. it was like he was seeing you for the first time again.

here you were, a bear from a different continent, a different life. and you survived everything being thrown at you, still coming out a genuine person who cared for their own. you were there for many bad days and were also a big part of the good days as well.

and that night was when snake started viewing you in a more... loving way. in a way that was foreign to him, but he wanted to see how it would turn out, so he kept that part of him that admired you under wraps. it might be platonic, he told himself.

the may of your senior year, just one day after you all had graduated, you, snake, and wolf all packed up your precious belongings and took a (stolen) car out of town. where to? none of you knew or cared! it was an opportunity to leave behind your hometown and all the bad memories.

and yeah, snake would miss his mom dearly. out of the three of you, he was the only one with a good connection with his parental figure. but, sharing the passenger seat with you as wolf sped down the empty freeway, hot air whipping everything in the car around, snake knew that this was the right choice. he knew that his mom would be better off without him and now had something bigger to look forward to.

like weeds, you guys had persisted together. years on the road (and run) had brought you three to metropolitan. a bustling city full of life and a steady crime rate that allowed your smaller crimes to go under the radar. stuff like robbing cashiers and pickpocketing, y’know.

you all found an abandoned place on the far side of town, where a bunch of old factories and flats sat, unused and unwanted. inside one of these places is where you had found a small, little tarantula, who was scared by the fact that someone had seen her after years of being alone.

wolf noticed her when you guys stumbled inside one of the many workshops and held a hand to stop you and snake behind him. he crouched down with a sincere and kind smile. “hi there.” he whispered, then alerting you and snake that someone else was in here with you.

from underneath an old press machine crawled out an orange tarantula. she was dusty and had a few cuts here and there, but her eyes were wide with such innocence that you couldn’t help but drop your guard the moment you saw her.

she didn’t have a name or family or anything, at least, that’s what she told you. she was no older than six but already, the world had shown its cruelty to someone like her. it made you all angry, angry enough to take her under your wing while still searching for a home to place your roots in.

“you’re really big.” she mumbled up at you, sitting on your shoulder as you continued to follow wolf from building to building.

she wasn’t wrong, either. now fully out of puberty and into your early twenties, you towered over most adults by now. wolf still looked short next to you and snake barely reached the middle of your chest when fully stretched out.

“you’re pretty small.” you countered, smiling when she didn’t act offended, but nodded in agreement. “but we can work with small. what do you like to do?”

she fell silent, thinking hard. “i don’t know.” she admitted, sounding troubled.

this time, snake peeked over from his spot slithering in front of you. “that’s alright. we can find a place for you, pipsqueak.” to say he was happy about not being the shortest anymore would be an understatement.

the tarantula frowned and sent a childish glare over. “you smell weird.” is what she settled to insult him with.

when snake’s jaw dropped in offense, your laughter bubbled to the surface instantly. the times you showed raw emotion like that was far and few between, so this interaction was no small feat. snake swept away the offense to admire how each laugh shook your body, how much he enjoyed seeing you laugh without a care in the world.

somewhere in the back of his brain, he was starting to realize that this wasn’t just a platonic admiration.

you three and your new... ward, for lack of a better term, found a relatively nice and clean warehouse. just far enough out of the city so no cops would consider searching here for you but also close enough for quick trips.

you spent a few more years, just the four of you, before your lovely little tarantula had turned twelve. and when she did, you all decided to surprise her with her very own personal laptop.

and that day was how the little tarantula turned into webs. anywhere on the internet, any database, any thing she could get her eight arms on, she found a way. she became a tech wiz by fourteen and then a certified online genius when she turned fifteen. you all watched as she flourished before your very eyes.

the weeds became stronger over the years, growing in numbers.

it would be another three years before you’d meet shark. after hearing about the tale of him stealing the mona lisa as the mona lisa, you all hounded on webs to find him and track him down. and it turned out, he was looking for a safe place to stay and commit crimes.

the last of your crew was a spunky little piranha, who had a thirst for blood and an even bigger thirst for crime. he was plucked off of the street by none other than wolf himself and fit in instantly. it was endearing to have such an energetic and chaotic person on the team, although the arguments were endless. then again, there were already plenty of arguments before piranha had appeared, so no one could even fault him.

it was around the time snake had turned thirty-seven that he finally recognized how he felt for you. after the whole stunt of trying to get the golden dolphin and getting mixed up with marmalade, he didn’t realize how deeply he loved you until the events after everyone figured out that wolf had wanted to be a good guy.

you sat there, slack jaw in awe as professor marmalade revealed wolf’s intentions and then, his own. a part of you wasn’t surprised at all by this, it was wolf for crying out loud. despite all the bravado and the pickpocketing and the stealing, he was an optimist at heart. a true softie. why didn’t any of you see this coming?

no. why didn’t he tell you?

“wolf--” you turned to question him, but wolf was already straining against his shackles, launching across the prison van and spewing threats towards the guinea pig...

which ended with the doors opening and everyone witnessing his anger, therefore ruining any possible chance of you guys being redeemed.

the ride to the prison was tense, as no one knew what to say. what could you say? you guys got played, doubled-crossed so fucking hard! and by a guinea pig of all things.

“i should’ve let you eat him.” you whispered, only loud enough for snake, who was on your left, to hear. he didn’t move or reply or even acknowledge your words, just stared at the ground angrily.

when you all were escorted inside the maximum security prison, that was when the others started to talk.

“i can’t believe we got double-crossed by a tiny rodent!” shark grumbled, full of frustration as he glared down at his handcuffs.

snake decided now he wanted to talk. “oh, we got double-crossed by a rodent all right, but, uh, not a tiny one.” he glared to the back of the group, where wolf was walking right beside you.

“what?” shark’s confusion made you roll your eyes as you all were split into separate parts of the process to getting admitted into the prison.

“we were supposed to con marmalade.” you grunted, allowing two officers to pat you down for any items. “but, i guess wolf here had other plans.” you watched as a cop wrung snake dry of any object he had swallowed and kept for safe keeping.

after gagging and coughing, snake turned his glare over to wolf. “yeah, does that sound familiar to ya, wolf?”

wolf was beginning to grow annoyed by the accusations being thrown around by his closest friends. “why would you think that?” he grunted as another cop scanned him for any metal.

“oh, I don’t know.” while snake was being escorted to another station, he slipped out of the cop’s grasp to get up in wolf’s face. “maybe because you just sabotaged the biggest heist of our lives!” the cop snatched him back into walking.

“yeah, no kidding.” you also walked past, glaring at your friend from underneath the fur covering your eyes. “mind explaining that one to us?”

seeing as you both were furious, wolf sighed and began to retell the events of his run-in with marmalade, who was apparently disguised as an old lady he was trying to steal from. as you all got into your orange jumpsuits, he recounted how she had praised him after he helped her and something just clicked for him, much to everyone else’s confusion.

“i dunno what it was but it felt... uh... y’know, good.” at wolf’s words, piranha, webs, and shark all gasped in shock. who would’ve thought their leader, their boss of all people, felt good about something good?

meanwhile, you and snake were mean mugging him. hard. snake opened his mouth--

“ahhh.” piranha suddenly nodded with a smile, pointing at wolf. “but then you stole the purse.”

“NO!” everyone else shouted at him, making him jump.

as wolf walked away towards his holding cell, you and snake followed behind him. “you know, i heard what the pig said to you about cutting us loose!” snake spat out venomously.

that was news to you. you turned to snake with wide eyes. “you’re lying.” came out as a whisper.

“but i never thought you’d actually do it, man.” snake finished, the end of his tail coming up to wrap around your wrist comfortingly.

wolf turned around, hands held up. “hey, hey, hey, hey.” he tried to calm his best friends down. “i would never-- i was trying to-- i was trying to find us a better life.” and then he smiled as if he was doing something good.

you were quicker to the punch than snake, jutting your head forward. “a better life? what? since when was our life bad in the first place?”

“our life was perfect until you tried to ruin it!” snake backed you up.

wolf knew you two were stubborn in how you saw the events play out and decided to take a different approach. “i didn’t! you guys felt it at the gala.” he moved to sweep his gaze to all of his friends. “the clapping, the cheering. we were more than-- than just scary villains!” his eyes landed back onto the two of you. “they loved us.”

“yeah, when we fit into their little mold of goodness they did.” you countered, stepping forward and getting in wolf’s face. “you heard marmalade himself and he put it perfectly: as long as we are the way we are, people won’t like us.”

“in this world there are scary people and people who get scared.” snake grumbled, a few steps away from you two. “and can you take a fat guess at which ones we are?”

wolf looked you in the eyes and then over your shoulder. “oh yeah?” the hair on his face and shoulders puffed up angrily. “well, i’m tired of being scary. i’m-- i’m tired of being an outcast. maybe I don’t want to be a--”

“what?” snake slid up onto your shoulder, making it the two of you getting up in wolf’s face now. “a bad guy?” wolf jerked away, looking between the two of you. “don’t want to be a bad guy anymore, huh? say it, wolf.” snake dared him.

silence fell. and wolf didn’t say anything, just glared at you both.

you let out a huff, full of held in anger. “no, it’s okay. he wants to be one when it’s convenient to him only.” you took a step backwards, hands curled into fists. “because obviously he doesn’t care about us. the people he took in and said was his family. all we do is hold him back.”

wolf snapped, “yeah, maybe you do!” and the words echoed in the large room.

you and snake reeled back, pain covering both of your expressions. it felt like your chest was about to pull apart from how badly it hurt to hear something like that come from wolf. all those years, those decades of committing crimes and being with one another, down the drain.

snake acted first, using your body as a launchpad and throwing himself into wolf’s shoulder, biting down as hard as he could. “you take it back!” he screeched, as wolf stumbled backwards at the weight.

wolf punched him off but was met with your fist to his stomach, keeling him over. “i can’t believe you!” you shouted at him, enraged. “you backstabbing asshole!”

and as you, snake, and wolf dissolved into a pile of gnashing teeth and thrown punches, a few officers on duty came over to pull you all off of one another. it took three of them for just you alone, but they were mostly successful.

“prison is no place for fighting!” one of them cried.

then an officer’s body fell from above and along with it, came a masked person. you, snake, and wolf all froze and watched in awe as this person proceeded to beat the ever-loving shit out of every officer they saw, thoroughly impressed by their finesse and speed.

and then you wore broken out of prison. by none other than the governor, diane. who just so happened to be world famous criminal, the crimson paw.

yeah, it was a lot at once.

but when diane took you on a boat ride to shore and explained marmalade’s plans and how it was impossible to do alone, only wolf was jumping out of his seat to run after her.

you and the rest began your walk along the coast, no longer wanting to hear whatever had to be said. wolf whipped around, noticing this. “wh-- guys?”

“oh, i’m sorry. i thought it was made clear back at the prison.” snake whirled around angrily. “there is no ‘us’ anymore, wolf! we’re done! finito!”

wolf wasn’t convinced, snorting with a smile. “because of that little tiff back there? come on, guys, that’s what we do!” his laidback speech made you turn around, now standing next to snake. “you guys serve, i volley. that’s our little dance.”

“oh, and does our little dance include you telling us we do nothing but hold you back?!” you roared. all the others turned to you, surprised. “you think you can call us dead weights and turn around and act like we’re still best buddies?!”

in the three decades of knowing you, neither wolf nor snake had ever seen you this pissed off. wolf stuttered, “but-- i mean, c’mon! we’ve-- back in high school, we said things--”

“never once had either of us ever told you that we thought you meant nothing to us.” snake cut him off, at his limit. “there’s nothing that can be salvaged from you tossing twenty-eight years of friendship out the window.”

neither of you said anything else, just glared at him for moment longer. he looked crestfallen at your words, but said nothing, watching as you and the other three stormed off down the beach and back in the direction of your apartment.

one of the weeds bloomed into a beautiful yellow dandelion, fitting in with the flowers around them. the rest of them stayed weeds.

it took the rest of the morning to get back, but finally, you all were home.

and your home was bare, gone and empty of all the riches and the proof of robbery you had. your jaw dropped, hard. nothing was there but a few empty boxes, a hanging stand or two, and the fridge.

“no!”

“what?”

“all our stuff?”

“where is everything?” everyone began to panic, frantically searching for whatever remains of the stolen items could’ve been left.

it hit you while you watch shark frantically search the empty clothing rack for his disguises. “wolf gave away our things!”

“we stole it fair and square!” snake huffed, glaring as piranha ran around the room in panic. you both ignored him as he began to rant about how bad it felt to be stolen from, walking over to the untouched fridge.

pictures of all of you were still on there, memories of your friendship hung up. it put a bitter taste in your mouth, seeing it all in front of you. of all the things he wanted to leave you, this is what he left? tainted memories of when he wasn’t a backstabbing sack of shit?

snake angrily tore the freezer open, revealing there was only one orange push pop in there. the sight of it alone made you both bristle.

shark going into hysterics behind you was not helping your case. “we got no food! we got no money! we got no money we could use to buy food! no food we can sell for money!” all of his rambling built up to him bursting into tears, sitting on the floor.

snake rolled his eyes and you sighed, closing the freezer as snake slid over to the younger criminal, push pop in hand.

“alright, jeez, shut your trap.” he grumbled, shoving the ice cream into shark’s hand and then, his hand into shark’s mouth, forcing the guy to eat instead of cry. “c’mon, man, stop crying.” snake slithered away, trying to think of what to do next.

the rest of you stared at him like he broke loose from the insane asylum.

“what the fuck?” you stopped him before he could look through the fridge next, putting a hand on his shirt and holding him in place.

snake gave you a weird look in return. “what? my friend was sad. i was just cheering him up.” he slid around you and began rooting through the fridge, groaning when he found no food. “did that fucker give away the stuff in the pantry too?”

“you did a good thing! for me.” shark looked touched and his tone alone made snake’s eyes roll for what felt like the fiftieth time that day.

“don’t be ridiculous.” he brushed off, peering at you all from the corner of his eye. “i just put your needs before my own.”

“yeah. you’re being good.” webs pointed out.

growing irritated, snake turned around fully. “i’m not! i was simply making a sacrifice so shark could be happy.”

“snake, man, that’s pretty close to the dictionary definition of goodness.” you stared down at him, still in awe at such a display of selflessness.

“snake, you!” shark began, “the worst one of us, the most selfish--”

“spiteful--” webs interjected.

“terrible--”

“sneaky--” piranha popped out of a cardboard box to say that one.

“dishonest--” you added.

“insensitive--”

“manipulative--”

“snakelike--”

“stanky--”

snake was growing fed up with the negative adjectives being pinned on him. “and your point is?”

webs took a moment and chose her words carefully. “i think wolf was right. maybe we could be more than just scary villains!”

like clockwork, everyone’s posterior limbs began to shake back and forth, like how wolf described his tail wagging. even snake’s bottom end and your little nub tail were moving, the prospect of being capable of goodness swelling inside all of you.

three more weeds turned into tiny little daisies, soaking up the sun and swaying in the breeze.

snake glanced at his end and for a moment, everything seemed to be alright. like wolf said, he felt it! it felt nice to know that he was capable of goodness, even after everything he’s done. he looked up at you, a smile threatening to break on his face.

you had looked like someone murdered your family in front of you. and that’s when snake snapped out of his happy facade and grit his teeth. no! he couldn’t just leave life as a criminal! and after what wolf put you both through, how could he even consider doing something like that?

“no!” he cried, breaking up the happiness. he snatched your wrist and dragged you to the elevator, needing a quick escape. “we will ALWAYS be the bad guys!” was all the others heard before the doors closed and you two were gone from sight.

you stood in silence, unsure of what to make of the warmth that you both had felt. the elevator slowly began to bring you upwards.

“do you...” you spoke first, trying to find your words. “do you think he really meant it?”

“that we’re dead weights?” snake filled in, moving his glare to you. “because he said it himself! that’s what we are. we’re nothing to him!”

“i know what he said!” you snapped back, throwing your hands up. “but sometimes we say weird shit when we’re angry. i’m just...” you moved to rub at your face. “i don’t think we’re doing the right thing here.”

snake’s betrayal grew in his chest. “what? since when have we done the right thing?! you’re just siding with him--”

“not the right thing for others but for us, shitass!” you interrupted him, getting just as riled up as he was. “we-- wolf doesn’t just toss out three decades of history without feeling something! i can’t even do that and half the damn time, i don’t feel anything!”

“so you’re on his side.” snake conceded, rolling his eyes again. “figures.”

“i am NOT PICKING SIDES!” finally fed up with him, you yelled loud enough to strain your throat. snake clamped his mouth shut and stared up at you. “there is no sides here! it’s always been us three, i can’t-- we can’t just let him go like that!”

“why not? that’s what he did to us!”

“yeah and guess what? does it make us any better to do the same to him without considering why he did it?”

“being better than someone has nothing to do with this--”

“yes it fucking does.” you and snake go into each other’s personal space, glaring one another down. “you’re telling me that if you wanted us to go good the way he did, you would have told us your reasoning behind it beforehand?”

snake fell silent at that one, still frowning angrily. “well, no but i wouldn’t even consider--”

“and he didn’t, i’m not disagreeing there! but the entire time, he had our best interest in mind.” your logical explanation started to make snake feel like a piece of shit, but he didn’t dare let it show on his face. “he was a good fucking friend until the very end and yeah, he could’ve told us something, anything about what he thought he could’ve done for us, but he didn’t. and us turning our backs to him now, when there’s a threat that could hurt him, isn’t something i’m too keen on doing.”

when you put it like that way, it made snake feeling like an even larger piece of shit. “so-- what, you just wanna forgive him?”

“oh fuck no!” you denied, finally pulling back. “you think i want him to think he can get away with that? it’s not about forgiving him, it’s about being the better person and helping him anyways.”

“...you’re telling me all of this mushy, gushy good shit now of all times?” snake looked away, his resolve broken by your argument in favor of you ex-friend turned... acquaintance? ally? “what makes you think he’ll think we’re on his side after telling him he was a piece of shit?”

“he won’t.” you sighed, standing back to your full height and looking at the elevator doors as they opened, showing you the deserted sewer outside.

and then a lightbulb flickered overhead, the same time you and snake had thought of a genius plan. “but someone else will!” you both spoke. sharing a grin with your shorter friend, you picked him up and pulled him over your shoulders, running out of the elevator.

you had a con-man to con.

“oh, what an unorthodox surprise!” professor marmalade looked thoroughly elated to see you and snake on his porch, angry scowls still on your faces. “two villains, right on my doorstep!”

“listen, small guy, we got a bone to pick with wolf.” you grunted, kneeling down so you could be closer to his height. “whatever your plan is, we want in.” and you held your hand out, a sign of trust.

marmalade looked like he had won the lottery, immediately snatching up your significantly large hand and shaking it rapidly. “you two got yourselves a deal!”

you had spent the next thirty minutes listening to marmalade go over the ins and outs of his wicked plan and he even showed you where the meteorite was being held and used as a power source. though you hated to admit it, he was a pretty smart guy when it came to planning this evil shit out.

and while you were on your way to his control room, an alarm started blaring overhead. marmalade pulled out a communicator and dialed up his assistant, who had explained that he just caught diane and wolf attempting to steal the golden dolphin.

“we ought to greet our guests, right?” after hanging up with his assistant, the guinea pig gave you guys an evil grin. “i’m sure they’d be delighted to see a few familiar faces.” he turned away, ready to lead you to where the two criminals were being held.

using that as an excuse, you seized the professor’s arm before he could run back to the source room. “hey, man, before we go, i really gotta piss. where’s your bathroom?”

for all the smarts marmalade had before, it went all out the window as he directed you to his bathroom in the opposite direction. “snake and i will take care of them.” he stated, waving you off and walking down the hallway. snake didn’t turn or look back as you both went in different directions and neither did you.

after standing inside the bathroom for a few minutes, you opened the door and took a step out. a squeaking noise at your feet made you jump a foot in the air and you glanced down, seeing a guinea pig staring up at you.

it sat there for a moment before turning and skittering down the hallway, glancing back at you every now and then. ah, it wanted you to follow.

you moved quickly and quietly, following the guinea pig all the way back to the hallway leading up to where the meteorite was being used to hypnotize the creatures. you watched with a laugh as they picked up a replica of the meteor and hid the other one behind a few levers.

you got to work, pulling out a few chemical bombs and planting them on the far side of the bomb and around the room, keeping them hidden from sight. for this to work, no one can catch onto you too early.

you attached the last bomb and started jogging to the door, prepared to leave.

only to scream when a car burst through the entrance, holding all of your friends inside of it.

you all fell silent, blinking at one another. you weren’t surprised to see that piranha, shark, and webs all ran to help diane and wolf, so at least you felt like you weren’t entirely out of the loop.

deciding to go with the flow, you gave the guys a wave. “yo. can someone help me steal that?” you pointed at the fake meteor, praying that they’ll fall for the bait. if they don’t, then this plan would all be a bust.

diane and wolf scrambled and all three of you pulled it off of its stand, planting it into shark’s waiting hands.

“oh, wait, i gotta see marmalade’s face.” wolf mumbled and made you all pose and stare at the door. a few seconds later, you heard muffled talking behind the entrance.

“with this meteorite, we will be able to commit crimes people have only dreamed about!” marmalade gushed excitedly.

“not bad for a butt rock.” snake said. you snorted, smiling to yourself. even when double-crossing someone, he can’t help himself.

marmalade opened the door and he and snake gasped at the sight of all six of you sitting on the car. wolf spoke up, “don’t mind us, just robbing this place.” he shrugged.

shark threw down the meteor and then, you peeled out of the room and onto the streets of metropolitan.

not before grabbing the cat from earlier. the cat takes priority.

and together, the six of you moved to stop marmalade’s plan. from hijacking the money trucks he was planning on looting, you thought you all were in the clear from saving the day.

that was, until you realized that you would be clearing your names without snake.

wolf pressed the brakes and you set a hand on his shoulder. “i’m not doing this without him. go back.” your command was soft, but to the point. you would rather be a villain with him than be a hero with them.

wolf looked you in the eyes, conflicted. “but, would he even want to--”

“yes.” you cut him off, certain. “turn back.”

that was all he needed to hear, the two of you sharing a gentle smile as he did a one eighty and peeled down the street, in the last direction you guys saw marmalade’s helicopter going.

while snake and marmalade were arguing over god knows what, wolf drove underneath them and cried out, “snake! snake!” and catching both of their attention. “snake, come back!”

“we need you, baby!” shark made grabby hands at him from afar.

“and you need us!” webs added.

to put the nail in the coffin, you stood up from your spot in the passenger seat and held a hand up. “there’s nothing wrong with being good, snake! at the end of the day, we will always want you!”

and that moment, seeing your fur getting blown in the wind, seeing the pure hope and love in your eyes, was when snake realized that he liked you. he liked you far more than he had ever liked someone. you were someone he loved dearly and wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with you.

marmalade said something to snake, unaware of his epiphany, and then shouted down at you guys, “i’ll give you one last chance to give me the meteorite!” he barked out, growing angry by the second.

piranha wasn’t fazed, crying back, “oh, yeah? what you gonna do, whiskers?”

marmalade snatched the mind helmet off of snake and the ground began to rumble. you looked over your shoulder and saw a tsunami of adorable little guinea pigs stampeding in your direction.

you gave piranha a slap to the back of his head. “stop antagonizing people, dipshit.”

wolf, to his credit, was keeping a good path ahead of the guinea pigs. wherever they slammed, he dodged. wherever marmalade tried to throw him off, he swerved around. you smirked to yourself, having been one of the few to watch his skills in driving and evasion grow from the beginning.

marmalade seemed to notice this too and he smirked deviously, turning to the snake by his side. perhaps, he thought, there’s one way i can get what i want.

when you and wolf looked up at the helicopter, you both gasped when marmalade had thrown snake off of the vehicle, then sighed in relief when he caught himself on one of the bars.

“that fucker.” you growled. god, you should’ve let snake eat him sooner. “wolf!” you turned to the driver.

“i’m on it!” he grunted back and you both swapped places, with you now behind the wheel. “you win, marmalade, you win!” he cried at the helicopter. “you can have the space rock, take it!”

marmalade snickered, muttering a condescending praise under his breath and forced the guinea pigs apart, allowing his goon steering the helicopter easy access to send a grapple down to grab the meteorite.

before marmalade could pull it up, wolf hopped onto it and pulled out a lipstick from his pocket, sneering at the helicopter. “ah, ah, ah! pull him up first or i’ll use this!”

marmalade wasn’t convinced, rolling his eyes. “oh, come now.”

wolf clicked the lipstick and suddenly, it was blowing fire like a blow torch. he held it up to the chain coming from the helicopter, his expression like stone.

both you and snake chuckled, proud of him for somehow having the upperhand.

or at least you thought you did until marmalade’s helicopter pulled away, higher and further into the sky, and he kicked snake off from where he had his teeth buried into the metal.

“SNAKE!” you and wolf cried in unison, with you stepping harder on the gas pedal and him climbing off of the meteor to move into the passenger seat beside you.

“swap on go. three--” wolf counted down,

“two--” you spoke back.

“one-- go!” and while wolf climbed over to the driver’s side, you went under his body and leaned forward, keeping your eyes on the snake falling through the sky.

for a moment, it felt like your heart had stopped beating in your chest. one of your closest friends, your ride or die, was soaring to his death. and if you couldn’t reach him in time, fuck, you didn’t even want to consider that.

you loved him too much. you couldn’t lose him like this.

wait... you loved him.

you sat there in realization for a split second before sitting up further. you needed to tell him. now. because you refused to think of what might happen if you didn’t reach him, if you didn’t get to tell him.

wolf drove to the edge of the street covered and guinea pigs and ramped off the construction, the car moving upwards in a perfect arc. snake was still falling from the sky.

“we’re gonna make it!” piranha yelled, smiling giddily.

and then the car started falling, all five of you not going with it. the others screamed, but you had a mission in mind, forcing your body to move so you would be pulled into snake’s direction.

and in midair, you embraced him, holding the reptile close to your chest. “snake!” you cried, tears falling from your eyes as relief filled your veins. at least if you die, you’ll die with him and everyone else.

“you-- you all came back!” he was in no better state than you, as he was already crying when he started falling.

you pulled away, still holding onto his body and uttered. “snake, i fucking love you. i’m in love with you!”

his entire body went straight and his face flushed red. “wh-- are you serious?”

“one hundred percent.” you both stared at one another for a moment, the only noise being the wind flying through your ears.

he was silent and then he let out a disbelieving laugh. “i love you too!”

nearly three decades of comradery, stuck together through horrible odds, had brought you both to where you were now. staring one another in the eyes, feeling weightless, both because of the unlimited fall you were on and because finally, you both realized something important. you guys were in love.

the last of the weeds bloomed into beautiful, little yellow buttercups.

wolf swam down to you two and you pulled him closer by the hand. the gesture encouraged him, and he sighed, staring at you both. “guys, i should’ve been honest.” he admitted. “i wanted to be honest but-- i just thought that if i was, and if i told you guys i wanted to be good, you both would--”

“be angry at you?” you and snake supplied. all three of you shared a watery laugh, falling in a triangle formation.

“we were.” you honestly replied. “but... i’m not gonna throw out our friendship over something like this.”

“me neither.” snake agreed. “but, we’re gonna have to talk about this when we get back.”

“i know, i know.” wolf smiled, blinking away the tears. “the point is-- i-- i love you, guys.”

you couldn’t help yourself, you were smiling so widely. “i love you too, wolf.”

“i love you too, buddy.” snake nodded.

and just like that, you all were back on track to being the killer trio you knew you once were. you all embraced, ignoring the fact that you were still falling to your deaths. you’d handle it in a moment.

for now, you were just content in being in your boys’ arms.

#mr snake x reader #mr. snake x reader #reader insert #the bad guys x reader #gender neutral reader #gn! reader #x reader #im tired so ill proofread it sometime l8r LMAO

231 notes · View notes

spiders-hth-is-an-outlier · 8 months

Note

now I'm curious, can you tell us more about writing Flourish out of order? what made you decide to try writing it that way? what was agonizing about it??

I think honestly I decided to do it that way as an experiment, because so many other writers say it works for them, and on paper it does seem like a good strategy for keeping your interest focused over a long project. It's something I'd been interested in experimenting with for a while, and Flourish seemed like the right story for it because of the structure.

If your memory is good or you've read the author's notes recently, you'll know that Flourish began life kind of as a stunt -- a bunch of people on Tumblr were laughing at Rudy Giuliani, as one does, and saying that "landscaper next to the dildo store" should become the new fandom trope to replace "flower shop next to the tattoo parlor." I often get ideas by hearing something stupid and thinking, okay, but if you did want to do that for real, how would you? And I got really hooked on this idea of Quentin running this super nerdy, Ivy League sex shop, and Eliot, who comes from this canonically working-class background, struggling to find some kind of balance between his origin story and his artistic temperament in a way that was more complex than just fucking off and pretending to be someone else.

But that was really all I had, going in! There was absolutely nothing like a plot involved. I knew it would have to take place over a year or more, so I kind of broke it out seasonally and did a bunch of research about gardening in Pennsylvania specifically and the landscaping industry generally (my Kindle Unlimited algorithms were bonkers for a while). I noodled around with the concept of plants and blooming where you're planted. I came up with a huge, detailed backstory for the Waugh family, since I knew it was going to have to be his connection to his family that drew Eliot there at all, and I knew I really liked the idea that Eliot and Ted became garden buddies before Eliot and Quentin were really a thing. I had a general sense that there was going to be a culminating conflict between Julia wanting to leave the business and Q feeling betrayed by that. And at the point where I signed up for the Big Bang, that was more or less all I knew, and I thought, okay, maybe what I do is just put these characters in rooms and let them bounce off each other until I figure out what I really want the story to look like.

And honestly, that part wasn't too disastrous. I wrote a lot of the Eliot stuff first, since I had a stronger sense of his conflict, and I let Quentin's Whole Deal emerge gradually -- which is why I think his arc is a little more messy, but you can get away with messy in Quentin's case, it's Quentin.

I got to the point where I had about 30k of fiction and I was like, okay, I get this story, I can explain it to myself. I wrote an outline. And that's where I fucked up, because what I should have done is backed up to the beginning and wrote like I always do, filling in the gaps chronologically and editing completed scenes where necessary. But I was still into this idea that I was Letting the Story Lead Me or some fucking thing, who knows, and I started just tackling scenes from my outline whenever I thought of something cool to do with them.

And that was a disaster, because what I should have realized about myself is that for me, the pleasure of writing is in the momentum of it. When I write, I do generally have a sense of what the third act will contain, but the fun of it is kind of -- building the deck or laying out the game board. I spend a lot of time setting up People With Problems, and then as I'm actually writing, I'm solving their problems, and the biggest component of that is letting them talk long enough to figure out what they think their problems are, which is rarely what I think their problems are, but to me the most interesting thing about any human being is where they're wrong about themselves. So as I write, I'm always using the things these characters say and think to build the conflict, I'm basically starting out with my story and learning as I go why they're not already doing what I think they should do -- what I will eventually get them to do.

This may all seem a little abstract, but trust me, there's a click that happens when the story shifts gears and I'm no longer setting things up, but now I'm writing to address what's in motion, not to Create Problems On Purpose anymore, but to drive those problems to a head and then solve them. And with Flourish, I never felt that click, I was never able to Win the Story, because big chunks of the first act still weren't in place until very late in the process.

And on a practical level, it meant that certain late things were supposed to be a bigger deal, but I wrote it so slowly and with such frustration that I just didn't have time to set them up as much as I imagined I would -- Quentin's contentious relationship with Marina was supposed to be a thread, and when I wrote the later scenes it was theoretically resonant that Julia says "you both made me carry this as a secret from the people I love, you both let me down." But then the way the story evolved, that just got squeezed out because there wasn't an organic spot for it and I didn't have time to create new scenes for it. So stuff like that, where if I'd been writing Act Three with complete knowledge of what actually had and hadn't happened earlier, I'd have approached it differently. And that was super frustrating and made me feel like I was fucking it up.

In retrospect, I do like Flourish a lot. I think I made the story work, mostly just through brute force. But when I look at it, I can definitely see the seams, where the transitions seem abrupt and random, where certain things still look to me like responses to events that never actually happened in the story. It's fine, it worked out mostly. But I truly never enjoyed writing it in the way I usually enjoy writing, and I absolutely think it's because I didn't have a strong, completed first act pushing me through to an ending that felt like a justified payoff to Page One.

Anyway, thanks for the ask, this was cathartic! And, uh, people should read Flourish, which I think is a pretty decent little novel about taking the hand you're dealt in life and trying to turn it into something you're proud of. It's so AU that I think even if you've never seen a Magicians in your life, it's completely readable.

#hth fic #my stupid hobby

13 notes · View notes

hungeringheart · 10 months

Note

Hey! I saw that session analysis was open, and I was wondering if you were up to doing a human session like this - Page of Breath (P), Page of Doom* (D), Page of Light (D), Mage of Space (P), Knight of Life (D) and Mage of Hope (P). I’d you need any more info, Page of Breath & Page of Doom are brothers, Everyone is in the same friend group but Page of Doom is just a tagalong/new addition. Thanks in advance, and also good luck to your blog

Wooh all right here we go! Thank you for this, and for the wellwishing - I hope you're well and you enjoy the surprise of me answering :)

So first of all wow, big session! I can see a lot of narrative themes I really enjoy here. In particular there's a really strong thematic triad going on with the Pages (who grow into and spread/advance their classpect).

Page of Breath (learning to trust the process and allow things to be as they are; learning to give people space and believe in potential; Prospit, so zen about and accepting of their lot and situation) and Page of Doom (learning to understand, rise up to and live with inevitability, destiny, and the necessary way of things; learning to hold boundaries and let go of unnecessary things; Derse, so it's a rocky road) is an INSANELY good sibpair. I've known these brothers for two seconds and I'm already invested in them. I'm super curious about what it means that the Doom player is the tagalong -- is this the older or younger brother?

Page of Light (Derse) is also insanely good as an addition to this dynamic - a person who's maybe a bit salty because they're chronically unlucky and not very aware, sort of an unconsenting servant of their whims and arbitrary chance. Maybe they want to be an academic sort of person but they don't know how to go about it, maybe missed some steps in their education (due to illness or some other unlucky event)? Bad at studying but want the aesthetic of erudition? I could see them having strong socioeconomic or medical reasons for that, which they resent. They seem quite compelling just off their Classpect description, it's not often that that type of struggle is considered in fansessions. My best friend growing up was this kid, I quite like that they're there!

Unfortunately, besides their own personal arcs, I believe we can see from canon's pages that this class represents something about its aspect in the session too: namely that the aspect within the session is inchoate, new, still coming into existence. In Tavros' game it was Breath (agency, motivation, chronologically even the narrative itself). In Jake's it was Hope, which was in short supply for obvious reasons (the session was dead, and all the kids weren't doing well from the start, not just Jake).

So then, what does it mean that we have three entire Pages in our game? It means something is seriously wrong. The problem they face is a very high order one: these friends have little to no available knowledge nor chance of success, little to no agency, little to no motivation, and little to no framework for how fucked they are. Only a little Light, a little room to draw a Breath, and only a limited measure of protection from Doom.

I think that, also, all this means that things start very whimsically for them: they've been handed a terrible fate, but at first they're just some quite troubled and unaware friends, totally unaware of what they have to rise to. And it gets worse, fast. It doesn't get better for a long time.

The struggle is made even more obvious by the presence of the Knight of Life (Derse): on a literal level, somebody has to keep them safe, keep life itself a possibility. And it won't be easy. Knights protect and protect through their aspect. The Life Knight of this game has the unenviable task of struggling to support the vitality, will, resolve, flourishing, and even literal life of not just the world, but also a group of people who start out in what they don't even know is serious need of help. This is a therapist friend who may or may not be willing or wanted, and this therapist friend doesn't have it easy.

They achieve all this through, at the expense of, or masking a need for the same things they give in themselves. Can the group keep this person on their side, or conversely can this person stay connected? Under the circumstances -- as the only competently executive person on the team for a long time -- the Knight of Life is vital, but also at considerable risk. Can they shoulder the responsibility? Are they resentful? How badly?

Well, then, these kids're lucky that they have others to at least motivate them! I particularly like that there's two Mages of aspects that this group really needs to be able to envision and learn about by experience. Even just imagining a Hope for success and Space to grow and be is probably enormous for everybody involved, and Mages have to experience their aspect -- which is tremendous for these kids. A chance to touch a little bit of hope and opportunity will really go a long way here.

As for the Mages themselves, though, at the start? Mage of Space (P) and Mage of Doom (P) are very solid things to be -- for the Mages. The Mage of Space knows when to give Space and when to hold it, understands limitlessness and place. This person maybe has deep interests and equally deep acceptance of the self, a radical acceptance of themselves and others that could really help the group pull through. Even if they are very distractible.

They might be able to contribute in ways other than frog breeding, if they know the others well -- but they're also the most wizardly and ungrounded possible Space player with the most inconveniently "fuck it" sway, a real wildcard. It doesn't look likely that this person will fully contribute to the team for a long time. Though potentially being able to CCTV-style view anything anywhere is in theory a huge asset, I can see this Mage wasting a lot of time using it to see things that help them feel better about the situation rather than for any practical purpose.

And the other Mage! Goodness knows an acceptant, chronic doomsayer (maybe a very depressed individual) isn't always fun to have around -- but it's actually worse if they're a Mage of Doom as in destiny and inevitability, and have a Prospit sway with which to be resigned to it from a position of actual understanding. That could make them a game rules doomer guy, and being a Mage they suffer from the same lack of groundedness as the Space player. This is bad, in this context. This is the way to catastrophizing, and maybe to sabotage in the hope of making the way down painless. This is the one that pokes around in the Furthest Ring, not out of any desire to win but because they profoundly disbelieve in the possibility of winning. And what do you do if you can't win? Some people try to break the game in revenge. Some wait around and do nothing. Some quit. Some, more dangerously than others, hope they can cheat.

Of course, certain glaring facts make things much worse for this party. They have no one who understands how their selves work and what calls the Heart, nobody who knows about the workings of the Mind. No outlet for Rage -- and those three would have been helpful in this group, particularly. No Void in which to sit back and be still a while. No one who cares to keep their bonds of friendship as strong as ones of Blood.

And -- Skaia help them, this above all -- they have no Time to spare at all.

There are no do-overs, Hope is slim, and they can see their Doom long before they can work for a better ending within it.

This would be a brilliant story to tell. The stakes are high, and the personal growth of literally every one of these characters is completely essential to victory. Please update me if you've written anything!

#classpect analysis #anon ask #session analysis #page of light #page of doom #knight of life #mage of hope #page of breath #mage of space

4 notes · View notes

the-whumpening · 2 months

Text

The Backstory Arc, Part 5

Prev | Masterpost | Next

Ash and Evius finally makin it happen. Pure, wholesome smut of their first time together <3 This also gives a much better picture of their typical dynamic and how sweet Evius can actually be. Posting it all in one long part bc why not

Content: explicit sex scene, m/m pairing

For the next week, Ash struggles to process the change in his relationship with Evius. On the one hand, his heart is overflowing with adoration, amazed at the spectacle that is Evius. But on the other, he’s still hesitant to make moves—after all this time, vocalizing what he wants feels both redundant and intimidating. What if he’s not ready either? Or worse . . . what if he says yes?!

But the more he watches Evius from a distance, the stronger his desire becomes. The way he walks, his hips sashaying beneath the loose fabric of his pants, leaves Ash weak and stumbling behind him. Everything about the elegant muscles of Evius’ body excites Ash, especially after seeing how powerful and agile he’s proven himself to be.

In fact, it excites him more than he expects; as he watches Evius perform for the crew, his urge grows within his pants, and he shifts to cover himself with his cloak. It’s almost unfair, Ash muses to himself. How can a man be so pretty and so deadly?

Evius’ lithe body gyrates as he dances, indigo flames sparkling in his wake. Spying Ash behind the crowd, he grins wider and winks in Ash’s direction. With a final flourish, Evius diverts the flames into the sky, where they transform into glimmering fireworks. Amidst cheers and a few tossed coins, Evius gracefully winds his way towards Ash, lifting on his toes to wrap his arms around Ash’s neck and plant a kiss on his lips.

“Hi there,” he murmurs, pressing close to Ash. His eyebrows raise slightly at feeling the firmness below Ash’s hips. Pursing his lips, he trails his hands down Ash’s arms to interlace their fingers. “Should we . . . find somewhere private to talk?”

Flustered, Ash nods, a blush spreading across his cheeks. Evius pulls his hands, leading him away from the crowd and into a secluded hallway near their quarters. With one swift motion, Evius presses Ash’s back to the wall, one hand corralling Ash’s shoulder while the other carefully grips his chin.

“Now that we’re alone,” he purrs, leaning into Ash’s face, “it seems like you’re excited to see me, darling.” Evius lets go of Ash’s chin, stroking his cheek before gliding his fingers down his neck and chest, ending with his hand just under the hem of Ash’s shirt.

His fingertips warm the sensitive skin of Ash’s hips, and a jolt runs up Ash’s spine in response. He pulls in a shaky breath to steady himself. “I love to watch you dance, Evvy. You were amazing.” He melts a little at the memory of Evius’ dancing, his tense muscles relaxing into the wall. “And so beautiful . . . ”

A flicker of bashfulness flashes in Evius’ expression, and he loosens his dominating stance around Ash’s hulking frame. “What a sweetheart,” he coos, pressing soft kisses into Ash’s cheek. “But I think you’re interested in more than my dancing, aren’t you?” He brushes his hand gently across the bulge between them. “Why don’t you meet me in my room in, let’s say, ten minutes?”

Goosebumps trace up and down Ash’s arms. He and Evius have always been flirtatious with one another, well before they admitted their feelings; now, though, it’s taking on a new meaning. Ash’s stomach flutters—Is this excitement, or fear? Does it even matter?

He winds his arms around Evius, pulling him tightly to him and bringing their lips together. An unrestrained energy passes between them from the feverish kiss, and it takes all of Ash’s strength and concentration to tear them apart. “See you soon, then,” he whispers, letting go of his grip on Evius. Their eyes meet, blushing grins growing on both of their faces, before they retreat back to their rooms.

As Ash slams his door behind him, he immediately slumps to the floor, eyes wide in panic. The bravery he felt in the aura of Evius’ confidence has quickly faded. Oh no. Oh no no no no no . . . Oh, what have I done? His breath starts to quicken, and he can feel his heart pounding rapidly. Am I ready for this? I don’t even know how it would work since we have the same . . .

He can feel the anxiety pouring over him, and he takes a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart. The rough feel of the wooden floor against his hands is reassuring; his thoughts start to clear and slow down.

I mean, it was a little scary with Uma, but everything was fine, he tries to coach himself. It’s just Evius. Just Evvy. It’s new, and that’s scary, but it’ll be fine. With one last cleansing breath, he stands up. Come on, Evvy’s waiting for you.

After he quickly freshens up, Ash makes his way to Evius’ room. His hand trembles as he knocks on the door, but the same rough wood against his hand reminds him to trust himself. The door swings open, and all the tension melts away.

Evius stands in the doorway, shirtless and glowing in the faint candlelight coming from inside. His smile is crooked and warm like always, but Ash notices his chest rises and falls rather quickly; why is he out of breath? Before he can ask, Evius reaches out a slender hand and leads him inside. The room is nearly identical to the one Ash has been staying in, but Evius’ personal touches somehow make the space much more inviting. Every surface is dotted with lit candles, fixed in place with their own melted wax, and a faint flowery fragrance wafts through the air.

“Did you do all this just now?” Ash marvels, remembering how he spent the last few minutes. Evius locks the door behind them and pulls Ash to the bed.

“Of course,” he replies, sitting beside Ash and leaning in close. “I thought I'd make things a little more . . . romantic for our first time together.” As he speaks, he draws closer to Ash’s neck, his breath igniting Ash’s skin. Goosebumps prickle once more along Ash’s arms, and he fights the urge to shiver when Evius’ soft lips press on his throat. For a second, Evius is still; he pulls away, realization dawning over his face. “I . . . have a question, Ash,” he starts, his head tilting slightly. “Have, um . . . have you had sex before?” Heat radiates off both their faces at the question, but Evius regains his composure and places a reassuring hand on Ash’s cheek. “I just don’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for, you know?”

Ash drops his eyes, unable to hide his embarrassment. “Um . . . Well, just once, with Uma.” At the mention of her name, Evius’ eyes narrow slightly, but he shakes it off before Ash notices. “But I’ve never . . . with another guy . . . I don’t really know what to do.” He lets out a breathless laugh, still unable to meet Evius’ eyes. His heart beats wildly in his chest, the nervousness bubbling back up to the surface.

The weight of Evius’ hand placed on his helps to steady his dizzy head. “It's alright, darling,” Evius soothes. “Everything will be okay. We’ll take things as slow as you need.” He rests his horns on Ash’s forehead, kissing the tip of his nose as Ash still looks down. “Don't be shy, love; it's just you and me.”

Evius gently scoops his hand under Ash's chin, lifting his face to meet his lips. Ash can’t help but melt under Evius’ touch, his muscles shuddering as the kiss deepens. His massive arms surround Evius and hold him tight; he feels as if he’ll fall apart if he doesn’t cling to Evius like a raft at sea. The swirling in his head only spins harder as Evius trails kisses down his jaw and onto his neck, a fiery path making its way to his shoulder.

“Why don’t you get more comfortable, darling?” Evius breathes into Ash’s collarbone, gently grazing his teeth along the pronounced ridge. The sight of Evius looking up at him from his chest gives Ash a twisting, blissful ache in his gut. While his brain struggles to catch up, Evius slides his hand underneath the hem of Ash’s shirt, tracing the path of multi-colored hair covering his chest and stomach. His muscles tremble as he loosens his grip, allowing Evius to pull his shirt over his head and drop it on the floor.

“Ash . . . ” Evius sighs longingly, marveling at his broad chest and defined muscles, “you don't know just what you do to me.” He latches onto Ash with renewed vigor, planting rows of kisses on every inch of skin, his hands desperately chasing what his mouth can't reach.

“W-what do you m—” Ash starts, his voice cut short by a gasp of unexpected pleasure as Evius’s tongue swirls over the raised pink buds on his chest. He clamps his lips into a firm line, quiet hums slipping out against his will.

With a hypnotic smile, Evius brushes Ash's hair behind his ear and stands up. “I can show you what I mean.” Maintaining his irresistible gaze, he removes the rest of his clothes, now covered only by the dimness outside the candles’ reach.

Ash's breath catches in his chest, his heart leaping ahead of him. He pores over every detail of Evius’ sculpted form: his rosy skin, his lithe muscles, the swirling designs painting his skin like a master's canvas. And the firm excitement he'd been hiding . . . is much larger than Ash remembered. Of course he'd seen Evius nude before many times, but the revelation only hits him now—it jolts through his stomach, a panic spreading to the farthest reach of his limbs.

Seeing the flash of fear in Ash’s eyes, Evius returns to his side. He tenderly holds Ash's face in his slender hands, his fingers winding through the soft black waves of his hair.

“Hey, hey, it's okay, sweetheart. I know you're not ready for that. It's alright. I promise, we won't do anything you're not comfortable with.” As he strokes Ash’s cheeks with his thumbs, he can see them grow pink with embarrassment. “Talk to me, love; you’re not usually so quiet.”

Ash swallows hard, swimming through the fog in his brain to find his thoughts. “I . . . I guess I’m jus–just nervous. I mean, you’re so . . . ” He sighs. “I can’t take my eyes off of you.”

Evius laughs, his breath tickling Ash’s face as he kisses his forehead. “I could say the same, darling. In fact, I’d love to see more of you, if that’s alright.” Ash’s cheeks burn brighter, but he nods. Despite his embarrassment, he is surprised to find that he isn’t compelled to hide or cover himself as he undresses; seeing his skin side-by-side with Evius’ somehow feels natural—it feels right.

His skin tingles as Evius glides his hand over the slope of Ash’s hip and onto his thigh. Ash can't hide his desire like this; Evius can clearly see how stiff he’s become, and a smile plays on his lips in response.

“Such a lovely view,” Evius comments hungrily, his golden eyes glittering with desire. As his hands wander over Ash’s body, he points out, “See? We're the same—what makes you feel good will make me feel good, too.”

I never thought of it like that, Ash muses. I wonder . . .

Seeing the gears turning in Ash's head, Evius takes Ash's hand and places it on his hip. “Go ahead—you can touch me, too, darling. Have your fill.” He glances down at his lap, inches away from Ash's fingers. “Do you . . . want to give it a try? I'll show you what to do.”

Ash's stomach flips, the tenuous balance of excitement and anxiety beginning to shift. He can hear his pulse growing louder in his ears, yet his mouth unconsciously begins to salivate.

“I do,” he whispers. “I really, really do, Evvy.” Realizing he had, indeed, been anxiously frozen in place, Ash lets his hands explore Evius’ smooth skin. “I want to make you feel good.”

As his fingers nervously trace along Evius’ body, a buzz of electricity travels up through his arms and to his clouded brain. For so long, he’s avoided touching Evius like this, waiting for his feelings to be returned—but now, trusting in Evius’ love for him, he finds it impossible to take his hands away. Ash eagerly pulls Evius closer to him, their skin craving to press against one another.

“Show me how to take care of you, Evvy,” he begs in a raspy whisper. “Please.”

With a contented hum, Evius brings his lips just outside the reach of Ash's. “Of course, darling. Just follow my lead . . . and don't bite me.”

At that, he leans in, crushing his lips to Ash's. He pries open Ash's mouth with his own, a muffled squeak of surprise caught between them. As they break apart and come back together, Ash's breath quickens, a dizziness almost like intoxication flooding his brain. Evius relentlessly pursues him, pressing his chest close and winding his fingers through Ash's hair. Through his nearly-drunken, hazy thoughts, the last shreds of Ash's inhibition fall apart. He scoops Evius up, mouths still eagerly intertwined, and sets him on his lap.

They both shudder at the tantalizing sensation as they’re pressed together. Even this small pleasure is enough to summon tiny beads of clear, dripping liquid from Ash's body. His fingers sink into the flesh of Evius’ soft, round backside, his skin unbelievably silky against Ash’s sturdy thighs. Evius gently tugs Ash's hair, tilting his head back to separate their tingling lips. He wipes Ash’s mouth with his thumb; it lingers, softly tracing the outline of Ash’s lips.

“Set me down, darling, and sit on your knees in front of me,” he instructs. Ash clings to him for a second as his heart flutters, then does as Evius asks.

Evius sits on the side of the bed, just above eye level with Ash kneeling before him. Seeing Evius from this angle intensifies the ache between Ash’s legs, and he squirms in place as he waits for direction. He can't help but lock eyes with Evius, but the pull of the enticing stiffness in front of him is like fighting gravity. I want him in my mouth . . .

Holding his hand under his mouth, Evius dribbles saliva into his palm. “Not ideal for everything, but it works in a pinch,” he explains, using the wetness to stroke himself for a moment. “Like this, see? I'm sure you know how to do this.” He holds out his hand for Ash's, guiding it into place and gently leading his hand up and down. Despite the immense size of Ash's palm, he is still inches shy of engulfing Evius’ entire length.

Ash's head gets foggier and foggier as he watches his hand slide along Evius’ shaft. The roaring of the choppy sea beneath them floods his ears, intercut with murmured encouragement and contented sighs from Evius. His own desperate aching continues to drip, rolling down his length to form a small puddle on the floor. Evius’ thighs flex on either side of him, and the sight triggers yet another wave of salivation in Ash's mouth.

I can't take it anymore . . .

Without warning, Ash dips closer to Evius, reaching to take him in his mouth. Before his lips can meet it, however, Evius’ deft hands catch the back of his hair and hold him in place.

“Slow down there, Ash,” he murmurs breathily. Ash lifts his pleading eyes to Evius’ face, finding his expression somehow both tender and devious. “You really ought to say ‘please’ if you want my body, don't you think?”

Ash's cheeks burn intensely, his gaze flickering back to the part of Evius he so desperately wants. Feeling the warmth spread to his ears and neck, he summons all his courage and begs in a low, warbling voice: “Please, Evvy? Can I . . . t-taste you?”

His eyes shimmer in the candlelight, like a kitten pleading for milk. Evius tilts his head back for a second, cursing in Infernal as a shy smile pulls in his dimples, then regains his composure. “Of course, my love,” he purrs, moving one hand from its grip on Ash's hair to instead cup his chin. “Whatever you desire. But . . . ” He pauses, brushing his thumb to part Ash's lips. “Do be mindful of your teeth, darling.” He releases his hold on Ash, whose eyes grow wider as he takes in the full size of Evius’ body before him.

After a moment of silent contemplation, Ash places his lips on the tip and takes Evius into his mouth. As he presses further, his lips stretching around the impressive size, crackles of electricity light up in Ash's brain. All thoughts leave the moment his mouth is filled, every sense replaced with Evius: the salty, gentle fragrance of his skin, his fingers combing through Ash's hair, the subdued whispers of pleasure, and the taste of his body . . . It's unlike anything Ash has ever experienced before.

He glances up to meet Evius’ eyes again, brows furrowed in concentration. Evius returns his gaze, letting his fingers drift over Ash's cheeks and tucking his hair out of his face. A hungry whimper emanates from Ash as he sinks deeper and deeper onto Evius’ length; drool overflows down his chin to his bare chest, but his body still begs for more. The slick, guttural sounds of his frantic movements stiffen his own desperate sex.

“Ash . . . ” Evius rasps, the tight muscles of his stomach rising and falling as his breath comes faster. He rubs the soft fur of Ash's tiger ear, sending a shiver all the way down Ash's spine to the tip of his flicking tail. “Do you want to go deeper?”

Ash tries to nod but, realizing his position makes that a bit difficult, he instead winds his arms around Evius’ lower back. Evius strokes his hair, careful to remain still as Ash inches closer. Finally, Ash takes in as much as he's able, but the back of his throat urgently rejects the entire length. He pulls back, coughing and gasping, a line of saliva still running down his chin.

“Hey, it's okay, love,” Evius soothes, wiping the prickling tears from Ash's eyes. “It takes a lot of practice to get used to that. Are you alright?” He guides Ash back on the bed, sprawling himself over Ash's body as Ash props up against the wall.

Ash's cheeks are flushed a bright pink, and he ducks his eyes in embarrassment. “I'm okay,” he mumbles as he wipes his mouth dry. “I didn't want to stop . . . ”

Evius smiles as he trails kisses down Ash's chest and onto his stomach. “I know, darling. But it's my turn to take care of you now.” He continues down the defined muscles, his lips dragging delicately over the peaks and valleys until he reaches the striped patch of hair below Ash's hips. “Would you like that, my love?” he asks, coyly nipping at Ash's thighs.

As Evius’ hot breath ignites every inch of skin, Ash realizes with a mix of excitement and humiliation: I’ll have to beg for everything, won't I? He pulls in a shaky breath and finds Evius’ hand with his own, lacing their fingers together. Swallowing his pride, he whimpers, “Yes . . . Please, Evvy?”

With a pointy grin, Evius replies, “Anything for you.”

Evius’ free hand wraps around Ash, his strong but graceful fingers slowly stroking his length. Biting down on his lip, Ash stifles a groan, his hips already trying to buck up to meet Evius’ hand. His firm, silky touch makes Ash's head spin and his muscles shiver.

“Easy, love,” Evius murmurs sweetly, leaning his arm over Ash's hips to hold him still. “I've only just started. Should I slow down?” At that, his languid movements crawl to a halt. He delicately runs a single finger up and down Ash's length, barely making contact.

“Evvy . . . ” Ash pleads. Every second without his touch feels like his heart is going to burst out of his chest. His voice is stuck in his throat, and through his shallow breaths, he can only squeak, “Please!”

Evius chuckles in a way that only fuels the agonizing desire in Ash. “So needy,” he teases, hovering his lips above Ash's twitching tip. Making a bridge with his mouth and tongue, he lubricates Ash with his saliva, smiling deviously as Ash shudders in response. His encircled fingers slowly and deliberately spread the liquid down Ash's shaft; his eyes stay trained on Ash's reddened face.

Ash's heart thuds feverishly against his chest as he watches Evius tease his body. He fights the growing urge to squirm and rock his hips, knowing it will only bring the torturous pleasure to a stop. But just when he's sure he can't take any more feather-soft touches, he feels Evius’ tender lips brushing across his sensitive flesh. His tongue quickly follows, circling Ash's tip with velvety warmth. As he expertly takes in Ash's length, engulfing him in an enticingly wet heat, Ash slams his hand over his mouth to muffle his sudden moan.

Before he can even process the first wave of pleasure, Evius’ lips reach the base of Ash's sex, his hand carefully fondling the tender flesh below. Ash pants behind his clamped hand; his mouth is watering all over again and threatens to spill through his fingers. With hollowed cheeks, Evius drags his lips back up, his tongue swiveling voraciously along Ash's rigid length. He pops his mouth off as he reaches the top, his lips deliciously glossy and full.

“Aw, don't hold back, sweetheart,” he coos, loosening Ash's hand from his mouth. He drags his nails gingerly across Ash's body, goosebumps and trembling muscles following his every move. “Let me hear how much you love it.”

Returning to Ash's desperate hardness, Evius doesn't hold back. He works up and down the twitching shaft, bobbing farther and farther with each pass. Unbridled whimpers pour out of Ash amid heavy, heaving breaths. It's too much; I can't–! As Evius takes him into his throat, Ash's desire threatens to overtake him.

“E-evvy!” He moans, sinking his hips into the bed to pull away from the unbearable pleasure. Evius’ eyes flick to his face, and he releases Ash with one long, lustful lick from base to tip. Ash shivers, keening sighs pushing out of his chest.

“Poor thing,” Evius teases, straddling Ash's lap to press their bodies together. “You need more, don't you, darling?” Evius’ thick excitement is still hard and dripping as it lays along Ash’s pelvis and onto his stomach. Ash attempts to reply, but his pleading is silenced by Evius’ mouth devouring his own.

His thoughts are scattered and foggy, only able to focus on the electric pleasure building at his hips and the sparkling eyes of Evius above him. As their lips and tongues intertwine, Evius steadily rocks his hips against Ash's. Their arousals—both slick with each other's lubrication—rub against one another with intoxicating friction. Ash's head lolls back against the wall, his lip ensnared between Evius’ teeth, and sweat begins to glisten on his chest. Evius, too, seems to lose his composure; his sweet, insistent moans seduce Ash's senses and linger in his ears.

Ash's hands wander down Evius’ back, the coppery skin smooth beneath his fingers as he cups Evius’ supple cheeks. In doing so, he pushes Evius’ hips faster along their path; a deep groan resonates from Evius, who quakes at the touch. They lock eyes, an animalistic glint behind the shimmering gold. Evius takes two fingers deeply into his mouth, pulling them out coated and dripping in saliva, his tongue lingering to moisten his hand. As he leans back in to merge his mouth with Ash's, he reaches down to thread his wet fingers between them both. Unrestrained, wanton sounds pass between their lips, and their huffing breaths clash their chests together.

Evius skillfully strokes the two of them together, Ash clinging tightly to his seductive hips. “I can't—” Ash pants, his fingers desperately grasping Evius’ lithe body. “Evvy, please!”

“Go ahead, darling,” he whispers raggedly. “Come for me.”

Evius thrusts into his own hand, his fingers quickly sliding back and forth. Ash's back arches and he squeezes his eyes shut, pinpricks of blissful tears beginning to form. In the darkness, he feels the tap of Evius’ horns against his forehead and the nuzzle of his nose on Ash's cheek.

“Don't hide, love,” he gently commands through panting breaths. “I’m right here. I've got you.”

As Ash struggles to force his eyes open, he hears Evius cry out above him, the sweetest sound he's ever heard. His watery eyes struggle to focus, swimming until they finally find Evius’ face. His delicate white brows are knit together, but he smiles upon seeing Ash meet his gaze. At that moment, the blinding ecstasy overwhelms Ash; it shoots through his body like lightning, spilling out onto his stomach in a trembling release. Evius quickly follows, biting down on his lip as tremors radiate through him. Ash watches in delirious awe as Evius’ seed is released onto him, the slippery warmth between them coating his stomach.

For a moment, the two bask in the quiet haze, the silence broken only by the sound of their panting breaths. Evius’ head droops, resting on Ash’s shoulder for support while his arms wobble and threaten to collapse. The foggy spinning in Ash's brain melts into a mellow drowsiness, and his arms drop to his sides as his muscles give way to fatigue. Carefully untangling his limbs, Evius flops to his side, leaving his arms outstretched for Ash to wriggle in. Ash settles into the space, not quite fully enveloped by Evius’ embrace, but comfortable nonetheless. Evius lazily flicks his hand, a flourish of magic cleaning the evidence of their revelry, then pulls Ash closer into his chest.

“Are you alright, my love?” His tender murmur lifts the silence, and the world around them suddenly seems to exist again.

Ash breathes in Evius’ herb-like scent, his lungs finally filling after what feels like an eternity. “I'm okay,” he sighs serenely, resisting the urge to purr as he curls into Evius. “Better than okay.”

Holding Ash in his arms, Evius drifts his fingers through the messy black waves of Ash's hair. “You did so well, sweetheart.” He places soft kisses on Ash's forehead, his thumb brushing across Ash's flushing cheeks. The gentle smile on his lips curls into a smirk, and he slides his hand beneath Ash's chin to lift it up. “And you know I only tease you because you're just too damn cute, right?”

Ash can't hide his giggles as he pouts, “You're so mean, Evvy!”

“Oh, you precious boy,” Evius chides. “This is only the tip of the iceberg—there are so many more mean things I want to do to you.” Ash drops his eyes, his cheeks on fire and his mind churning through the possibilities. He feels Evius’ lips on his forehead, then the tip of his nose, and finally landing tenderly on his own. “But that's for later. Right now, I only want to hold you and tell you how much I adore you.”

Ash sighs, leaning into Evius’s hand as it curves to cup his cheek. “How are you so good at all this, Evvy? How do you keep your cool? My heart feels like it's going to burst out of me whenever you touch me or say sweet stuff like that . . . ”

“Is that what I do to you?” he chuckles breathily. “Most of it just comes with time and practice, I think. But you—I don't think you realize the grip you have on me.” He lets his hand stray down Ash's neck and onto his chest, his fingers strumming through the striped hair. “Seeing your pleading kitten face? Hearing you beg? Fuck, Ash. I nearly lost control of myself.”

Ash can't help but wonder what Evius would be like if he did “lose control” like he said; his mind conjures lustful images that attempt to awaken his excitement again. “W-what do you mean?” He pauses, then quietly adds on, “Because of me?”

Evius’ brow contorts in confusion. “Ash, have–have you seen yourself?” He gestures to the defined muscles of Ash's enormous body, then rests his hand on the firm flesh of Ash’s backside and pulls him closer. “I love you, Ash. Every little part of you makes me want to just eat you up.” Evius’ soft lips brush Ash's neck, but the alluring sensation is broken as he bites down.

“Hey!” Ash pulls back, confused by the increasing excitement in his body. “I don't taste good, I promise!”

Evius pursues him, holding him in place to gently nip anywhere he can reach. “I'll be the judge of that, darling.” His teeth just barely press down on Ash's nipple, eliciting a squeak that surprises them both. “And that is why I can't keep my hands off of you,” Evius laughs.

Pouting, Ash buries his face in Evius’ chest. “I mean . . . I never said you have to,” he grumbles playfully. As he peeks up to see Evius’ reaction, Evius takes both of Ash's hands. His grip tightens, and his unruffled smile lifts at one edge, forming the crooked grin Ash knows will precede torturous pleasure.

“Oh, darling,” Evius sighs, nudging Ash onto his back. “You really shouldn't have said that. Now”—he pins down Ash's hands, straddling his thighs and leaning down to hover just above Ash's lips—“I can't let you go; you'll just have to stay here with me tonight.”

Ash's heart races at the sudden shift, his breath shallow and mixing with Evius’. Some feral instinct in the back of his mind wonders if he shouldn't be scared right now—pinned and exposed, at the whim of this beautiful devil—but that voice is quickly drowned out by the clamor from the rest of his thoughts: Yes! Please, yes!

Coyly, he lifts his head so their lips touch as he speaks. “I never said anything against that, either.”

–

The two get very little sleep over the course of the night. As morning arrives, tendrils of light stream through the gaps in the wooden door and fall across their drowsy faces. Ash stirs; he sluggishly remembers where he is, then glances down to find Evius soundly asleep in his arms. His heart aches as he takes in the sight of Evius’ peaceful, sleeping face. I can't believe this is real . . . He reaches to caress Evius’ cheek, but Evius awakens and drowsily snatches his hand.

Even through his half-asleep stupor, Evius’ expression is as sharp and cunning as ever. He laces their fingers together and wraps a leg around Ash's. “I didn't say you could leave yet, my love.”

1 note · View note

elkpon · 2 years

Text

let’s give a shout-out to all the homies we’ve lost along the way…

stained glass lamps my beloved. the spot you leave empty in my heart will ache forever more.

alpine set, oh alpine set. so customizable. sure, many of your items have been repurposed but many here are staples lost to time.

blue and green set. anyone who says “just customize the regular wooden furniture” is missing the god damn point. these were customizable as well with different shades of blue and green! your unique cupboards, benches, and chairs will be missed dearly.

oh regal set, could noah not let you upon his arc? what will we do without your golden flourishes? what set will stand in to fill out the zodiac series now? why must you be lost, my beloved?

modern and sleek sets, every edgy villager misses you so, so dearly. you brought something to the table that only you could.

and finally, the saddest of all

emo purple rococo set i will miss you so much. do muffy’s tears not satisfy you? when will you return from the void in which you comfortably vibe?

closing thoughts: any of you who started playing animal crossing with new horizons are missing out on a lot of furniture variety. i’ve seen a lot of people say “OMG THEY GAVE US EVERYTHING!” when in reality, so many series staples that have been in these games for longer than most of you have been alive are just… gone. i’ve played a bit of the happy home paradise update and it made me sad doing a green room challenge without the actual green set yknow? i might just be being picky but i just feel like in trying to appeal to main stream newer fans a lot of the clunky, rustic charm of many of the older sets are being trashed.

#animal crossing #animal crossing new horizons #acnh #animal crossing new leaf #acnl #animal crossing happy home paradise #animal crossing happy home designer #achhp #achhd #animal crossing furniture

1K notes · View notes

whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

little birdie, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: The cat has asked the little birdie to make an appearance. You have been turning down private dances, preferring to focus on the art and glamour of the burlesque shows themselves. Besides, old money was entitled, twice your age, and, worst of all, ugly, inside and out. But Min Yoongi doubled his original offer and, well, he is new money.

these events occurred prior to twelve hours, m | jjk

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; reader is a burlesque dancer, caged bird performance based on Dita Von Teese; smut (fem reader, slight D/s dynamics, tiny bit of striptease, red lipstick kisses on nether regions (oop), m-receiving oral); non-idol!AU - cocky, rich!Yoongi x wealthy, burlesque dancer!reader; a little drabble based on this ask

He cocked an eyebrow at you, holding the handle of the leather crop in between his perfect white teeth.

You cocked one back, covered in diamonds, rubies, and red feathers.

The room was silent except for breathing.

These walls were soundproof.

You leaned forward, lids lowered, staring at those dark brown, cat-like eyes through your lashes, your tongue extending, the warmth of his skin and his breath against your lips. You licked the handle. His pink tongue flickered out, brushing against yours.

Instant electricity.

You retreated sharply, eyes narrowing.

“You were instructed not to touch, Min Yoongi.”

The man in the expensive designer clothes tilted his head at your cold tone, not responding. He surveyed you calmly, hint of a smirk around the leather crop, his hands behind his back. Primly tailored black vest with black satin piping with matching slacks. Silk handkerchief, cobalt blue, matching his silk shirt with the subtle checkered pattern and designer logo stitched into the squares, tone on tone. Despairingly expensive, but not gaudy or over the top. Didn’t need to be. The sheen in his black hair indicated it was pampered and well taken care of. The shine of his black oxfords indicated real leather. The strength and potency of his spiced cologne made him smell like the pure sex he was from presence alone.

Behind you, your two bodyguards stood side by side, sunglasses on, unmoving.

You agreed to this private dance when Yoongi said he was willing to pay double the initial amount he offered.

New money really spent it on the dumbest shit.

You leaned forward again, watching him carefully. You were wearing long opera-style gloves made of a lush red sparkling fabric, embellished with intricate stitching.

Lifted your hand, turning it around, palm up.

“Drop.”

He only moved his lower jaw, the leather handle falling from his lips and right into your palm.

You flicked your wrist and ran the crop up the inside of his thigh, forcefully spreading his knees with one of yours, narrowing your eyes, nicking the flared end against his crotch.

Lesser man would have jumped away.

Min Yoongi was not a lesser man.

He confidently spread his legs and tipped his head back, black hair falling over one eye, smirk on those shapely pink lips. He didn’t speak or make a sound. It was disconcerting but somehow intriguing in its own way.

As if he didn’t need to speak to indicate confidence in his position.

He was a caged bird in this private room, willingly trapped by you.

You smiled.

Fitting, for the theme of your burlesque show tonight had been a large steel birdcage at the center of the stage and you inside it, dancing within the visible enclosure, skillful hands holding onto the metal bars, lush hips swaying to ruffle the feathers attached to create a half-skirt that mimicked tailfeathers of an exotic bird. You were still wearing some of the pieces now, the lingerie, the tailfeathers, and the heavy necklace of diamonds and rubies splayed out on your collarbones and chest.

You slid onto Yoongi’s lap, closing his legs with yours, entering the alluring aura that seemed to surround him, trapping the leather crop between your crotch and his. Slow exhale, mixing with his as he lowered his chin to look you in the eye, unafraid.

“Hello, little birdie.”

You did not typically touch the men you danced for. They were usually old, crass, and undeserving of your touch. You treated it as business because that was what it was. A simple service for money. Nowadays, you cut back on the private dancing and upped your price. It just wasn’t worth it, being so close to such filth.

But.

Every once in a while.

Sometimes, you got young money like Min Yoongi.

You dragged the crop up his abdomen, up his chest, shifting your arm in a graceful swoop, turning it so it grazed his cheek, outlining that high cheekbone and elegant jaw. You stared into his eyes and he stared back, open-mouthed smirk on his lips, not backing down.

Sometimes, you got someone fuckable like Min Yoongi.

“Do you think you’re in charge here, Yoongi?” you murmured dangerously.

He ticked his head.

“I’m usually in charge everywhere I go,” he chuckled. Deep, husky voice edged with amusement. “It’s very tiring being the king and the boss all the time.”

Slow blink, piercing gaze on you with a wry smile.

“I would like to have a break from that.”

You sucked in a breath.

Min Yoongi was more than fuckable.

He was going to get fucked, tonight, by you.

You closed the distance, swiping the flared end of the crop against his lips, pressing inward, taking in his smooth fair skin, his even breath, his calm demeanor, and suddenly you wanted to mess it up, you wanted to tear down this placid façade and find what was underneath, find the passion and desire you could see shimmering in those dark brown orbs, challenging you to draw it out.

“Do you understand the position you’re in, Min Yoongi?”

He chuckled, voice low and smooth.

“Little birdie and her two shadows, I understand very well and I know how to keep my mouth shut.”

Damn.

He was good.

You tossed the leather crop to the floor and captured his lips, inhaling his cologne and his scent.

Yoongi did not move his arms, devouring your lips, hungry and intense, deft tongue flickering, testing the boundaries, and you pushed your tongue into his mouth, winding with his, hot and fluid and lustful, your hands sliding up his chest and reaching his shoulders, fingers one by one falling into place, sliding your lower body up to his, sucking in his breath, heat to hardness, your body heavier from all the jewels, but Yoongi seemed unbothered, deepening the kiss and sucking on your tongue, humming contentedly.

Even though he said he wanted a break, old habits were even harder to break.

You broke the kiss forcefully, the immaculate waves of your hair tumbling down your shoulder, seeing the red lipstick smeared on those shapely, smirking lips, his eyes drifting to yours.

You lowered your arms, slowly curving your hand, pulling back your arms in one smooth arc, fingers splayed, shoulders back. Measured, slow breath, always on form, every movement a performance. He watched closely as you reached back, unhooking and unlacing the tailfeather skirt with expert precision, keeping eye contact. You didn’t need to look to undo it.

You didn’t need to look when you released it, knowing one of your bodyguards had already stepped forward to catch it, retreating to place it aside.

Yoongi smiled, dark eyes gleaming.

“An agile little birdie, I see.”

He did not need to verbalize your beauty or attractiveness.

You could see it in the way he looked at you.

Startling how lucky you were to have met such fuckable young money tonight.

You placed a gloved hand on his chest and slid one leg back, then the other, red soles clicking, tracing down his torso, kneeling now, dancing fingertips up and down his thighs, admiring them and letting him know with your gaze. Black hair over one eye again, small smile on his lips, and yet you noticed the pink tinge on his ears.

Interesting.

You retreated your hand.

Brought it to your lips.

One by one, tugging at the tips of each finger with your teeth, loosening the glove.

Dark brown orbs watched you, entranced and fascinated.

Gripping the middle finger with your other hand, tugging on the opera glove, sliding it off with one swift arc of your arm, bringing your hand behind your head as it came off, tossing the glove aside carelessly. Yoongi couldn’t see, but your hand was poised behind your head, always aware of even the unseen details, bringing the other glove to your lips and doing the same, one by one, loosening the tightness before your hand flourished out from behind your head and your arm mirrored the previous arc, into the air and behind your head, throwing the discarded glove in the opposite direction of the first. Yoongi watched with patient, precise interest, like a cat observing a bird.

He smiled appreciatively, enjoying the show.

It seemed precious, Yoongi’s smile.

A strange thought.

Painted red nails gliding up his thighs, following the shape, tracing the waistband, parted lips smeared with lipstick, the tremble of his body finally evident and, with a tight inhale, you realized you too were breathing shallowly, matching him, looking up to see his pupils dilating, his hands still behind his back.

Your index finger traced the fastening of his slacks.

Yoongi raised a dark eyebrow, questioning.

You undid it while staring at his face.

Lowered the zipper, having to lift it because of his straining erection, seeing Yoongi clench his jaw, legs tensing, shoulders shaking, watching your face, hands, the diamonds laden on your collarbones and cleavage, equally embellished bra and panties covering everything else, but it was impossible to deny, incapable to resist, inescapable sensuality between you and Yoongi, a stranger until tonight, a shadow in the crowd until this moment, now well defined by light and lust, raising his hips so you could lower his pants and boxer briefs to his knees, sitting in a heavy ornate chair in a private room with your bodyguards right behind you as you lowered your head and your lipstick-covered lips to his thigh.

Red kisses imprinted on that fair skin, shudders under your breath.

Travelling up to his hard length, tongue slipping out, tracing a fat stripe over hot, taut skin, your satisfied sigh melding with his soft hiss at the contact of your wet muscle to his hard, twitching cock.

You drifted your gaze back up to his, lazy and purposeful.

Yoongi looked down at the red lipstick kisses and his cock quivering against your warm breath, leisurely lapping at the underside of his length. His voice was a low octave, almost raspy.

“Little birdie…”

The first time he said it, it had been borderline mocking, but now there was a fondness to it. Admiration. Appreciation. Adoration.

It made your core burn and heat spread all over your lower belly, dripping between your legs.

Black hair over his eyes, breathing hard, maintaining eye contact.

“Please.”

Simple.

Effective.

Sexy.

You closed your mouth around the head of his cock, tongue lapping the underside, his scent invading your nose and your lipstick coating his skin, your fingers lacing over his hips, sliding that thick length down your tongue and into your throat, his soft moan drifting from his. He was losing control of his hands, slamming them down onto the seat of the chair and clutching the sides, manicured fingers tense, knuckles white. You tilted your head and ran the head against the curve of your teeth, heartbeat racing as you witnessed Yoongi gasping at the sensation, his broad shoulders flexing, his hips trembling in your grip, struggling to stay still.

Losing control.

Maybe he didn’t spend his money poorly after all.

You ticked an eyebrow and adjusted your head again, tongue extending past your lips, suffocating your throat with the swollen tip and cutting off your air, curling your tongue around his balls, scooping them up and pressing them to your lips, dripping saliva onto the seat, eyes on his the entire time, choking yourself on his cock and licking his balls with a blazing, intense stare. No need to say who was in charge because you knew it and he knew it, growling deep in his chest, shivering in his designer clothes from primal desire that required no such things.

You were the same, diamonds or not.

Lust feeding off lust, money or not, you probably would have fucked Yoongi regardless and you could see it in his eyes that he was thinking the same thing.

You pulled back and began your pace, swallowing his length hungrily, tongue all over the base of the head, stimulating the thin skin and his sensitive nerves, his breathing turning into involuntarily gasps.

Faster.

Rougher.

Tighter.

Finding that sweet spot, that moment where his expression changed and his irises were overtaken by black, mouth open and panting, locking his shoulders and his hips, feeling him throb in your constricting mouth, just a little tighter to prolong his orgasm, making it a little more difficult so he had to chase it, his handsome face wincing, black strands fallen over his eyes, his body humming with energy and arousal, so close, you could see it, smell it, hear it, his suppressed hisses and darting eyes, taking in the whole image, your back, the curve of your ass, your hands on his thighs, fingers splayed out, your mouth on him, taking him there, there, earning his wanton moans and fluttering lashes, twitching hardness and then he threw his head back, neck straining against his buttoned collar, a perfect image, his hips bucking up, lost control, spilling into your throat with a sinful gasp, his chest prominent against the silk shirt and vest, begging to be freed from its confines.

You swallowed it all, savoring his strong taste, delicious as his body.

He lowered his head slowly, panting, his previously neatly combed hair messy now, cheekbones glowing with a faint sheen of sweat.

You licked him off just as slowly, finding his dark brown, cat-like eyes once more.

Yoongi smiled at you, cocking an eyebrow.

Your bodyguards would probably prefer you to stop here, but you had other plans.

You popped your mouth off, a drip of saliva snapping against your chin, rising, poised on red soles and leaning down, capturing that waiting smirk, one of your hands lifting to toy with the buttons on his vest. First undoing one. Then one more.

“Touch me,” you whispered.

Yoongi’s hands flew up and gripped your waist, promising all night.

Tonight was going to fun.

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #min yoongi smut

228 notes · View notes

kingofkingdom-archive · 3 years

Text

Your Wish Is My Command

Pairing: Maxwell Lord (WW84) X Fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you all so much for the love on my last story! I’m grateful for all the feedback and can’t wait to get back to anyone who’s replied or reblogged it or whateva. This one’s pretty different - Recovery was mainly plot with a bit of porn, this is... well, the opposite of that. ;) As always, heed the tags/warnings, and again there is no use of Y/N here.

Rating: Explicit (18+ only!)

Summary: You have a gift - a powerful, unique, dangerous gift, and King Maxwell wants to take full advantage.

You’ll let him.

Warnings: mostly smut, Maxwell being an absolute jackass (no redemption arc here folks), you encouraging and very much liking the jackassery, brief mention of abuse/trauma, greedy authoritarian behavior, kinda spoilers for ww84

Tags: semi-public sex, exhibitionism, royalty kink (?), unprotected sex, implied and/or inferred consent (i.e. not explicit but there), Maxwell’s POV (until very end), fingering, p-in-v sex, come marking

Word Count: 3.4k

"The messenger you requested, reporting back from the northern provinces, sire."

King Maxwell of the house Lord, sitting in the throne gifted to him by birthright, dismisses the servant with a wave of his hand. He's become quite irritated with the futility of his efforts concerning this matter, and therefore has little patience for further delay. The future of his lands, his wealth, his power, rests on the shoulders of these menial workers and the news they provide. It bears no repeating that should they continue to come up empty-handed, someone is going to lose their head.

He needs the girl, and then it will be sealed. He will crush all opposition and assert his dominance over the entire region, coast to coast.

The messenger, a boy no more than 15, scurries into the room. His hair is tousled under his cap, which he hastily removes in the presence of the king. He bows, deeply and with a flourish, before standing upright.

Max watches with disinterest, legs spread over the velvet seat and head resting on his fist. His rings dig into his temple.

"We believe we've found her, sire."

That grabs his attention. He sits forward, both hands gripping the arms of his throne.

"You believe you have? Have you or have you not?"

The boy swallows, growing pale. "We-we have, your majesty. It's just, uh, we-we can't p-p-prove it's her until she demonstrates the gift."

The king groans, rolling his eyes and rubbing a hand over his face. These people are impossible.

"Where is she, then? Have you at least brought her along?"

The boy nods frantically. "Yes, your majesty. She's been quartered in the guest wing, with two guards to watch her."

Immediately, Maxwell stands. Everyone in the room looks up at him, and he adjusts his sleeves. The boy is nearly trembling.

"Well, then take me to her," he orders, and the boy hesitates.

"Now!"

The messenger boy practically trips over his own feet in haste to correct his error. He sets a quick pace to the guest wing in order to account for the king's long strides, head bowed and arms stiff as he does so.

The room is located to the east of that which houses his throne, on the third floor, overlooking the orchards. Maxwell follows the boy, wooden-soled shoes echoing on the gleaming marble floors of his palace. Mirrors line each hallway, along with fine art ranging from rare vases to family portraits.

Maxwell sees the door as soon as they turn a corner, identifiable by the armored men who stand at either side of it. The boy stops and gestures to the door with a shaking hand.

"Just in here, y-"

"I can see that," the king barks, ignoring the boy completely. "You are dismissed."

He hears footsteps retreat quickly down the hall as he checks his appearance in a mirror. Not a hair out of place, not a wrinkled seam in sight. The king sighs, smiling as he admires himself. He takes a moment before turning to the door, the door that hides behind it wealth and prosperity like nothing he's ever known.

The guards simply bow as he approaches them. Maxwell knocks twice on the door and pushes it open.

Inside there is a single room, with a bed and chest of drawers and a vanity. There is a balcony, with glass French doors, through which he can see the shape of a woman standing and looking out over the scenery.

She leans one hip against the stone railing, and as Maxwell walks forward he can see that she holds a goblet of wine in one hand. Her dress flows in the light summer breeze, and her hair is decorated in intricate braids, ribbon laced throughout.

The girl does not see him, yet. He stands in the doorway, hands clasped behind his back, watching her.

"Is it true?" he asks, after he's looked his fill.

The young woman starts, a gasp escaping her lips. She turns to look towards the voice she has heard and startles again, seeing the king himself staring quite intently at her.

"Your majesty," she breathes, a smile ghosting across her lips. She bows deeply and then looks up at him, eyes bright and playful.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, my dear. I've heard many... extraordinary things about you."

Maxwell is immediately taken with her. Not only is she quite beautiful, despite her pauper's clothing, but she is one of few who have not reacted to him with fear or malice. Most begin shaking when they see his face; she, however, seems quite happy to see him.

"Oh, sire, the pleasure is entirely mine," she responds, voice soft, like music to Max's ears. "What things could you have heard about someone as lowly as I?" Her words are humble, but he senses a hint of teasing in them - as though she knows exactly what he's heard, but just wants him to say it.

"You are rumored to possess a very unique skill, one that I am most interested in learning about." He plays along, because her elusiveness frustrates him much less when she's right in front of him.

The king is a very visual man.

He steps forward, fully onto the balcony now. She backs up until her back hits the railing, smile never leaving her face, even as the king crowds into her.

"I possess many skills which I would be happy to demonstrate to you," she says, and Max does not miss the meaning she intends to convey in those words. His eyes darken, his blood running hot at the thought of the many things she could give him. The things he could take from her willingly, without the hassle of a fight.

"It is said that you grant wishes," he murmurs, looking down at her. Max finds he quite likes this view, her looking up to her king. "One must only touch you and state their wish, and it will be so."

The girl chuckles, and daringly takes a sip of her wine. Maxwell grins, before reaching a hand up and grabbing the wine from her grasp. He tosses the liquid out over the ground below and carelessly throws the goblet over the edge to follow its contents.

The girl does not bat an eye.

"What you have heard," she mutters, eyes slipping down to his lips and back up again, "is true."

The king runs his hand up her side, settling at her ribs just beside her breast, savoring the way she shivers at his touch. His fingers splay out over the bare skin of her back, warm and soft and hinting at more.

He dips his head down so that his nose brushes against hers, mouths nearly touching.

"Is there a limit," he breathes, because he knows he must ask this, "to your generosity, my dear?"

The girl smiles, placing a hand on his bicep. Her small fingers feel divine against him, even there.

"No," she whispers back.

Maxwell hums, stroking his thumb idly along her warm, soft skin. He needs to confirm that she's telling the truth, as tempting as it is to believe her outright. The way she's looking at him... she'd let him do anything to her. The thought is as enticing as it is dangerous.

"I wish to find a raven's feather in my shirt pocket," he says, and then feels a slight breeze on the back of his neck.

The king reaches into his pocket, and his fingers brush against exactly the object he wished for. He pulls it out to show the girl. She smiles and runs a hand up to his shoulder, resting her wrist there. His loose linen shirt, which flutters lightly in the wind against his tanned skin, is perfect for a summer's day like this - and when he feels the warmth of her hand through it he thanks his past self for selecting it this morning.

"What a remarkable gift you have," he comments, and tucks the feather behind her ear.

An endearing blush rises to her cheeks, and though she ignores it, the king takes notice. "Thank you, your majesty."

At that moment, an idea forms in his mind. It's devious, downright lecherous and more the act of some tavern drunkard than a king, but she is sure to react well, if he's gauged her correctly.

"You said there's no limit on the wishes you can grant a single person?"

"Yes, sire. I did."

A smirk forms on the king's face. "Then I wish, my dear, for you to be naked."

The wind around them picks up again and the girl gasps. In the blink of an eye, her plain, beige dress has disappeared, leaving nothing behind. She is a vision, bare and beautiful in the midday light like this.

Maxwell is immediately hard. Not only is there a gorgeous, naked woman before him, but his absolute, unlimited power has just been confirmed and lies at his fingertips. He is unstoppable now, now that he has her.

The girl's hands fly up to grasp at his shoulders as his own trace over her curves. Her hips, her waist, her thighs - one of which he brings up to hook around his own hip - all of it is open and shimmering before him.

"They said - in my village, they said you are a monster," she says, though her words trail off into a moan as one of the king's hands finds her breast. He tugs at her nipple, squeezing and pulling at the supple flesh, drawing sweet sounds from her pink mouth.

"Is that so?"

She nods. "I would look at your portraits and - and think... I'd think, no... no man so handsome could be so evil."

The king laughs, dipping his head to lick at her neck. She tosses her head back, giving him full access to the elegant column of her throat.

"And even... even if you are what they said... I don't - I don't care."

Maxwell groans just as she says it, biting a bruise into the junction between her shoulder and neck. He trails bites and kisses down her collarbones, leaving his marks across her unblemished skin.

"I am," he murmurs into her ear, smoothing a hand over her stomach so that his middle finger comes to glide over the thick hair that covers her mound. He dips it into her folds, rubbing softly at the wet, slippery flesh there until she moans, high-pitched and needy. He grins, licking his tongue into the shell of her ear.

"I am a monster, my dear," he whispers. "Every vile thing they said about me is true. And... I wish to fill my personal vaults with triple the gold. I wish to increase my fleets tenfold, with loyal soldiers to match. I wish to never see you leave these palace grounds so long as I live."

The wind picks up considerably around them. The king presses a finger against her opening, hot and dripping for him, and slides it in. Her moans are heavenly, loud and unashamed as he violates her in the open, where anyone could look up and see them. Her cunt opens for his finger, the gold and precious jewels of his rings swallowed by her sweet embrace. Her hands grip at his neck while her leg draws him closer. He adds a second, and it enters just as easily.

The king begins to fuck her with his fingers, watching as the muscles in her stomach tense and her eyes go glassy with the feeling.

"I wish to never be challenged by anyone for the throne," he grunts out. The girl moans at his words, and he realizes that she likes it. Not just the way he's touching her, but that he's making his wishes as he does it. He grins at her, predatory, and cups her ass with the hand not currently knuckle-deep in her pussy. His fingers dig in, sharp and strong and unyielding, surely leaving bruises in their wake.

"You like granting my wishes, darling? You enjoy giving me power, worshipping your king?"

She nods, mouth half-open. "Yes, your majesty." Her voice is breathy, the sound of it nearly knocking him out with the way it draws blood from his brain to his cock.

Speaking of which.

Maxwell thrusts a third finger into her cunt, the stretch made easy by the slick leaking out of her profusely. She wails, hands scrabbling at his neck and shoulders and back and the collar of his shirt.

"Take me out," he orders, and she pauses to look at him, confused. "Take me out of my trousers, my dear. Feel how hard I am for you."

She gasps and her hands fly down to the button at the crotch of his pants. Quickly she fumbles it open, and his hard member pushes up into her palms. The girl gives the king's dick a squeeze, and he grits his teeth, moaning.

"I wish to claim all of the lands in the south as my own. I wish to have loyal subjects in every village and town, that no one may ever defy me again. I wish to have any traitors killed without question."

The girl's moans have increased again as she rubs and caresses his cock. Her hands disappear for a moment as she leans back, licking a long stripe from her wrist to fingertips, and returns to her task.

Maxwell groans, dropping his head forward to press his nose against her skin, breathing in. She smells faintly of lavender, a crop that grows abundantly in the north, sweet and fresh. His tongue darts out to lick away a drop of sweat that rolls down her collarbone. Her hands squeeze and pull at his cock, thumbing at the head and slit and dipping down to fondle his balls on every other stroke.

It feels positively exquisite, but he wants to put his dick to use elsewhere. Somewhere tighter, warmer, wetter.

The king removes his fingers, drawing a whine from the girl. The noise of it is obscene in itself, squelching and sticky as her cunt tries to cling to his fingers and the jewels that adorn them. He chuckles, lifts his head to meet her gaze, and brings his fingers up to his mouth and licks away her essence. She watches, rapt, as he makes sure to get every inch of the three digits that were inside her. The sight of it makes her keen, high pitched noises spilling out of her lips and eyes watering with desperation and need for him.

The king laughs, the taste of her on his tongue. Someday, he swears, he'll taste this sweet nectar straight from the source.

Now is not the time.

He brings his spit-soaked hand down to his red, throbbing cock, giving it a few strokes. His other hand slips up to grasp her waist. The girl lifts her leg further, resting her heel against his ass, helping him to guide his length into her.

"What else do you wish for, my king?" she asks, just as the head of his cock notches at her opening. With a grunt, Max pushes in.

Her words, combined with the feeling of her pussy stretched around his dick, causes his vision to blur and images to flash in his mind of what's now possible with her gift at his disposal. He pushes in further, drawing another moan from deep within her throat.

"I wish... I wish..."

"Your wildest fantasies, my king..." she urges, grip tightening on his neck and shoulder. "Anything is possible. What do you -- oh!"

As her words soak into his skin, he pushes in further and further, until his balls are nestled squarely at her ass. She's pushing him to take, rather than to give, unlike so many who surround him. It breathes fire into his veins, this woman who's encouraging him to do all the selfish, power-hungry things he'd do anyway, all while he fucks into her like this.

The king draws out and pushes back in in one smooth motion, stealing the breath from her lungs. He presses his lips against hers as he speaks, as he sets a rough pace, fucking her into the stone railing.

"I wish to never fall ill or suffer injury in battle. I wish to have the unwavering allegiance of every foreign leader, and that they will defer to me in all international affairs. I wish for my reign to be the longest this nation has ever seen. I wish to live longer than any other man, and I wish to have you here at my disposal for the entirety of my long life. I wish to never succumb to old age."

By now, the wind is tossing her hair and whistling around them, but Maxwell does not care. He's thrusting into her roughly, recklessly now, and all he can hear are her sweet, delicious moans. Her pussy clenches his cock just so, and he sees nearly sees stars at the feeling. Her tits bounce as he fucks into her, her nudity on full display but only to be taken advantage of by him.

Maxwell adjusts his grip on her waist and thigh, maneuvering her around so that now he's taking her from behind. She leans forward on the railing, looking out over the palace grounds.

"Isn't it beautiful, darling?" he breathes, gripping her ass cheeks now, pumping in and out with increased fervor. "Looking out onto your lands, as far as the eye can see..."

She merely responds with moans, punched out of her with each thrust, and Maxwell feels her cunt throb in a way that tells him her orgasm is imminent. He reaches a hand around and searches for her clit, knowing he finds it when she shouts out. He rubs a finger against the sensitive, pulsing nub until she comes apart, writing and screaming on his cock.

Max feels his own climax approaching, and just before he tips over the edge, he withdraws his cock. Taking himself in hand, he strokes a few times and cums directly onto her ass and lower back, marking her up with his potent, royal seed.

Chest heaving, the king runs his hands through his own semen as it cools on the girl's backside. He rubs it into her skin like a masseuse might a fragrant oil.

Maxwell steps back, admiring his conquest. The girl is still leaning against the railing, head bowed and naked as the day she was born.

"I wish for you to be my queen."

The words are a surprise even to him, though he's not shocked at his own impulsivity; that is a trait of his that has followed him from childhood onward.

The girl turns to look at him.

"You have to be touching me for it to work, sire." She doesn't sound angry with him, which is a relief, though he'd never show it.

"I know, my dearest. I wish it, but I won't compel you."

At that she turns to face him fully. She's got that fucked-out look on her face, to be sure, but now there's something else in her eyes.

"Are you asking me to marry you, King Maxwell?" Her smile is sly, something befitting a woman of much higher status than herself. It makes his cock twitch in a valiant effort to get hard again.

"I suppose so."

"In that case, my answer is yes," she says, and pulls him in by his shirt collar for a searing kiss.

The next morning, you wake up sore in an unfamiliar bed.

You look around for a moment, taking in the luxurious decor and faint smell of roses, until you remember where you are. Who you are, now.

Your head rests not on a pillow - something much warmer than that. It rises and falls softly, and then you realize there's a weight around your waist that feels distinctly like an arm. Lifting your head just slightly, you see the king himself asleep above you, face soft and youthful in rest.

As you lay your head down on his chest to fall back asleep, you can't help but think of the people back in your village. The horrors you endured at their hands once they learned of your gift. The nightmares you still have because of what they did.

You think of how much they suffer under the rule of the king - of your husband - and you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

307 notes · View notes

spacecatchako · 3 years

Text

i don't want to be alone anymore (sfw)

you and daichi have been best friends since your first year of high school. now that you're in love (and adults) where will you go from here?

pairing: sawamura daichi x reader

wc: 3,373 words

contains: seemingly unrequited love, confessions, covers the nationals arc, friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort towards the end, fluff, reader literally has a breakdown and daichi comforts them, reassurance, cuddles, petnames (baby, princess, doll)

a/n: no, i didn't have any idea how to tag this. this fic is a little all over the place and there are several timeskips. the reader is implied to have issues w family and friends so keep that in mind lol. also i marked diff sections of the fic with ✨ this emoji so if u want to skip over certain parts and go straight to the hurt/comfort feel free babey

you were used to being lonely. sure, you worked hard and you had dreams, but there was some part you that remained unfulfilled. it was like a void that gradually dragged you down. you'd managed to supress it for most of your life up until high school, until all of a sudden something changed.

you met sawamura daichi. he was cute, a first year player on the volleyball team. daichi was kind to you. the two of you became fast friends after meeting on the first day at karasuno. during your breaks in between classes the pair of you would talk about anything and everything- volleyball strategies, your latest sketches, even other classmates that were giving you a hard time. you could be silly with daichi. there was no pressure with him, no need to pretend to be perfect.

but there was something scary about this too. by your second year of school you'd been friends with daichi for about a year. it was then that the realization hit- you had never felt this safe, this accepted, or... this loved by another person. when you'd get anxious because of classes or have issues with your family daichi became a shoulder for you to lean on. he'd go out of his way to send you check up texts and leave you little handwritten notes. the first one that you received was a little post-it note that said "you'll do great on your test today! i believe in you- daichi." he'd blushed like crazy when you confronted him about it. it was new to see your usually sturdy and level-headed best friend blush over a silly note that he'd left. there was something different between the two of you after that first note. instead of walking you home like usual he started to keep a hand on the small of your back.

you hadn't been looking. you'd been talking about how awkward your family was when a stray cat slunked into front of the two of you. you almost walked straight into it before the cat bounded away, crossing the empty street and looking back once to meow at daichi and you.

"sorry, is that too much? i just... want to make sure that you don't trip."

you were confused until you realized what had happened. daichi had steadied you by putting his hand on the small of your back. it felt good, for some reason, to trust him to steady you. trust wasn't an easy thing to come by.

you smiled a tad awkwardly before steadying yourself on your own two feet. "not at all daichi. i don't mind."

daichi smiled and the pair of you kept walking. his hand had stayed where it had been. you felt... guilty for being so touch-starved. and for your best friend, of all people?

"how ridiculous" you thought to yourself. when you came home you knew that no one was there. time to start dinner before your family came home. you'd probably retreat to your room and text daichi when that happened.

daichi was so good and so nice, and by your third year of high school the tiny, lingering bit of attraction that you had had for him flourished into a full-blown crush. you felt embarrassed and guilty. never had you let someone get this close to you. never had you ever let anyone write you notes, check in on you, give you genuine-sounding compliments. it was the little things like "are you okay y/n? you seemed a little quiet this morning. are you getting enough sleep?"

graduation came and went. the notion of parting with daichi and your other friends- asahi, suga, and kiyoko- left a pang of grief in your stomach. you were attending a local university and daichi planned to join miyagi's fire department after nationals. you'd still be close to him and he'd still be living at home, but it was weird to think that you'd be seeing one another a lot less.

nationals was when everything boiled over. you'd promised daichi that you'd be in the stands at every game of the competition, cheering him on.

"id love it if you were there, don't get me wrong. but don't feel like you have to jump through hoops for me! it's a bit of a long trip, i don't want you tiring yourself out." he confesses sheepishly. but you really wanted to go- his mom and siblings couldn't because of school and work, but they'd given him their best wishes.

"I'll hitch a ride with saeko and the crew. she and i work at the same restaurant on the weekends. we already talked and she said she'd be more than happy." you chirp. daichi seems a bit less worried about you after this, but then he remembers.

"um. y/n. you know that saeko drives... well, not badly, just... scarily?" he only seems to be partially joking.

you laugh at his worried expression. "I'll be okay pal. we'll make one of saeko's taiko buddies take the wheel."

daichi mock sighs in relief and you laugh together. this was the last moment that daichi had before nationals where he wasn't laden with anticipation over whether karasuno would succeed or not. he felt relaxed, with you. he thought you were cute, and awkward sometimes, and smart, and... good. so good. you didn't always look to him like he was an authority figure and you were small. he didn't feel the pressure to make sure you behaved or kept you in line because you were good at putting up a front and keeping yourself "in order." sometimes daichi wished that you would let him take care of you, let him listen more often. he wished that you would let him love you.

oh.

oh shit.

"daichi? um, daichi?"

daichi blushed and was snapped back to reality. he... loved you? that's what that care for you was all of these years. that's why he wanted to know if you were taking care of yourself, if you weren't burning yourself out with pleasing your family and school and work. sure, he thought you were cute. he picked up on all of your idiosyncrasies, even sometime pointing them out to you. he had had an inkling that *maybe* he had a little crush on you... but the care that he had come to find that he had for you was so great. he had to do something- everyone was leaving for school and the championships would be over and then when would he see you again? there was this great, big fear of losing you due to confessing. but that fear was minuscule compared to you, his studious and independent friend, pushing him away and forgetting.

"sorry. i was just lost in thought."

✨

yes, you, saeko, and the taiko group arrived a *tad* late and missed the tokonami match. yes you felt guilty for missing it. but when karasuno won against inarizaki and you saw daichi and the team celebrate the win, it was all worth it. you cheered as loud as you can, and once the players cleared from the court, you scrambled to greet daichi.

you see him in the lobby and almost leap into his arms. he laughs. "aaa, hey y/n." he croaks.

you giggle. "hey daichi. congratulations. you were amazing out there."

he's smiling through the sweat and fatigue. you notice, out of the corner of your eye, asahi and suga slowly backing away to leave the two of you alone. suga clicks his tongue, making daichi whip his head around, and he gives the captain a thumbs up." daichi sighs and sets you down, and the two of you are left in the stadium lobby. volleyball players and spectators mingle around, getting food and shopping for merchandise. daichi runs a hand through his hair and turns to you.

"do you want to go outside? there's something that i have to tell you."

anxiety shoots through you. if it's daichi, it can't be bad. of course not. that's one of your best friends. right?

the two of you make your way to the front doors of the stadium and get some fresh air. the sky is blue and the wind is refreshing against your skin. daichi, still sweaty and tired from his game, seems to enjoy it too.

you giggle as he stretches. daichi sits on a nearby bench and gestures for you to do so too. you notice a little shake in his hands as he does so. he's fiddling with the zipper of his karasuno jacket in that cute way that you know he does.

there's a sense of unease, and it's up to you to break the silence. you're alone with sawamura daichi, your best friend and longtime crush.

"daichi? what's wrong?" you ask, concerned.

daichi looks to you, a flush on his cheeks and a light in his eyes. he looks so cute, even when he's tongue-tied and tired from a game.

he takes a deep breath, and the words come out.

"i like you a lot, y/n"

you blink, confused. then it hits you. your crush, sawamura daichi, likes you. like, the boy that you think about way too much, the boy that you feel safe with, the absolute gentleman who cares about you and respects you instead of walking all over you, likes you.

you realize that you haven't said anything before you stutter.

"i-i like you too, daichi. so much."

he's blushing. your face is growing hot despite the winter air. the two of you, literal adults, are reduced to awkward messes because of this confession.

"o-oh. that's... good. i think that that's good." daichi awkwardly says. he laughs a little, then it turns into a full-blown bellow. you can't help but laugh too at how ludicrous the situation is. two friends who have known each other for years, caring about each other, eventually falling for each other. who knew?

"also suga made a bet and told me to confess to you if we won against inarizaki. he told me after the tokonami match. i agreed." daichi huffs after the laughter subsides.

"of course he did. im glad that he did it though." you joke.

"yeah. because then i wouldn't have you." he smiles, getting up. he extends a hand to you, helping you from the bench

"let's go back to the group. i don't want to miss lunch."

✨

it's been months after nationals. you and daichi are in a relationship, happy to be with one another. he's taken you on so many wonderful dates and his family seems to love getting to know you more. but there's still something that's missing. you've always struggled to open up to people completely. even daichi doesn't know what you're like when you completely break.

that changes one day when you have to travel from your dorm, to your parents house, then to daichi's for a date. it was supposed to be casual- just you and him in your pajamas, watching movies and eating takeout. but after being berated by your family for your career choice it triggered something in you. you felt like a little kid again, being told that you're not enough, being slowly manipulated by your family into burning yourself out. dachi helped the loneliness subside, but you knew that, inside, you were still the same little kid. that thought made something inside you recoil, but you pushed it down and made your way to daichi's.

you settle into his bed, your partner beside you. you take a good look at him- your man, sturdy and stronger from work at the fire department. suddenly, you can't help but break for some reason. tears flood your eyes and they won't stop for some reason.

"baby? baby what's wrong?"

you didn't deserve him. why were you even friends with him? someone this nice, this gentle with you, this kind? you wanted him to kick you out for crying. you wanted him to break up with you, because good things don't last.

you were so embarrassed and you'd felt so weak and stupid. you'd never been allowed to cry before, you'd always been told that it was a sign of weakness. good children didn't cry, so now that you were grown up you shouldn't either.

daichi hadn't judged you. he just set the tv remote down and moved in to hug you. other people's touches usually made you flinch and swat them away, but it was never like that with him. not when he supported the small of your back when you fell, not when you jumped into his arms, not when he took your hand after your mutual confession.

the two of you were hugging now, your chin on his shoulder and his head tucked into your side. you could stay like this forever. he was so warm. you could feel the two of your heartbeats almost sinking into one as your sobs quieted down and your breathing slowed to normal. this was the effect that he had on you. it was in this moment that you realized that you loved him- you truly did. the brown-eyed, sturdy, kind, careful, gentle boy that you'd met on the first day of high school had become your friend. then he was your crush. now that you two were adults, he was your first partner. the first person that you had ever fallen truly, deeply in love with.

you felt weak for desiring a love that was this tender. pessimistic you has you thinking that maybe all of the bad things that happened when you were growing up- your family being distant, friends leaving, you feeling alone all of the time- were a sign. a sign that you didn't deserve love. but if you were undeserving, if the pessimistic side of you was right, maybe you could have this moment to keep instead. is that it? if a whirlwind kind of love was too much to ask, you could just keep these moments with daichi close to your heart. if it was possible to take this feeling and keep it in a bottle, you would.

in between sobs, you vent.

"everything sucks, daichi. my family has always been so critical of me. i never get to see any of our friends anymore. im trying to succeed at school but my family won't get off my back. i feel so alone."

daichi pulls away to look at you. his palm is cupping your face and uses his thumb to wipe a tear away. you sniffle. you struggle to meet his beautiful brown eyes, averting your gaze. but you can feel his gaze on you, and when you do finally find the courage to make eye contact, he looks at you with nothing but affection. for some reason you don't feel judged by him. you don't feel... bad for crying in front of him anymore. he's looking at you with nothing but acceptance, nothing but care.

"hey." he starts in a small, gentle voice. "i know how you feel about crying, doll. but it's okay to cry. no matter what your parents say about you, you're a good person. a lovely person, even. you're a good friend too. what they think is stupid." he smiles a little. you love that smile- the way that his eyes crinkle a little and his cheeks dimple. he holds one of your hands in both of his. "i love you. you're good, and smart, and kind, and hardworking. you forget to take care of yourself sometimes, but i think that that's okay. while you're learning how to show yourself more compassion I'll take care of you in the meantime. whatever you need, doll. you're safe with me. no matter what. okay?"

you're crying again. great. you don't stop yourself this time and you throw yourself into his arms. he's there, waiting for you. you let yourself sob into his chest while he gently rubs your back. he holds you in his big, strong arms and hugs you closer. you don't feel suffocated and you don't feel humiliating to be crying. you feel safe. it sucks to cry over what your family thinks of you and it sucks that you don't feel like enough. it sucks that you've felt alone for most of your life. it sucks that you feel guilty for wanting love and it sucks that sometimes, you feel guilty for loving daichi so much. but as he holds you and presses a kiss to the top of your head, nuzzling your hair, all of the pain is tinged with something warm. something safe. something so, so safe. a feeling that you'd never felt before.

it's in that moment that you know- daichi isn't a whirlwind. he isn't a storybook prince that will whisk all of your problems away. no, he's somehow better. he's a pillar of support, a source of comfort, a prince in his own right. no, he won't save you- you still have to take care of yourself. but he'll support you, fill in the gaps, love you unconditionally. maybe a fix-it-all is too much to ask, but you couldn't care less about that now. all that you want his daichi. he takes care of you. he respects you. he loves you, despite your flaws and your feelings of weakness and those moments like now when you just need to be held. he loves you.

when you've stopped crying your voice is croaky and you feel gross. you look up at daichi and he hands you a box of tissues from the nightstand. you're an ugly crier, you know that. but daichi doesn't seem to judge as you dab at your eyes and look to check your reflection in his room mirror. it feels wrong to leave the comfort of his arms, but it also feels like instinct to check your composure. when you're done you turn around to face him, eyes tired.

"do you want to talk about it doll?" you're about to object, in a prefunctory sort of way, but he cuts in. "baby, i don't mind. really. i just want to know that you're okay. i just want to know that you feel safe. you've endured a lot and the way that you feel matters."

you sniffle. "im fine not talking for now daichi. im... tired. just tired. from crying. i just want to sleep." when he shows you nothing but understanding, you stutter out one last request

"ww-will you hold me?"

"of course, princess. ive got you."

you clamber back to bed. daichi and you shift positions so that he's laying down and you're against his chest. he smells like that nice, crisp soap that he always uses. you bury your face in his chest once more, before laying on your side to the sound of his heartbeat.

you sigh. "i love this sound. it lets me know that you're here with me. it let's me know that you're real."

daichi chuckles warmly. you can hear the sound reverberate throughout his chest and it tickles your ear. he's so sweet. it's then that he promises something to you.

"im here, darling. and i am not going anywhere."

your eyes water a little at that. "i love you, daichi. you're my best friend."

he sighs, and it's like you can feel his warm, gentle smile from where you're resting. "i love you too, doll. so much. you are the most precious thing in the world to me."

you know in that moment that you are loved- genuinely, indellibly loved. the roughness and loneliness that you once endured is no more. despite everything, you're learning how to love yourself and to take care of yourself. it feels so, so lonely sometimes and the work seems endless. but whenever you need someone to catch you when you fall, you know that your love, daichi, will be there. forevermore.

his heartbeat relaxes you as you snuggle deeper into his chest. the last words that the two of you utter to one another are ones of love before you both drift off to sleep. you love him- so, so much. and he loves you.

tagging some folks in the longest fic that ive ever written because aaaaaa. if u want to be added to my taglist or taken off plz send me an ask!

@ceo-of-daichi @honeybunny-sawamura @daichis-kitty @goldenshoyo @daichidaichidaichi @kingtamakimurder

138 notes · View notes

behindheremeraldeyes · 3 years

Text

sasusaku month 2021

day 1- glances

title: I see you

summary: high school AU— they’re in the middle of biology class when Uchiha Sasuke realizes that there are way more interesting things that deserve his full attention. [Ao3] [ffnet]

He’s doing it again.

From the corner of his eyes, he can see as she eagerly writes down her notes on her biology book. She uses her small fingers to tug a stubborn strand of her pink hair that has been falling forward since first period, and he watches as the sunlight highlights her soft skin. An absent smile graces her lips, and he supposes it’s because she’s enjoying whatever it is that their teacher is saying. He hasn’t been paying attention to the class for a while now, his concentration completely switched to the girl sitting next to him. Last time he checked, though, they were discussing genetics. Or could it be fungus? He doesn’t know.

Lately, he’s been doing that a lot— the whole staring thing, that is. Though unaware, at first, now he knows exactly when his attention drifts towards her. It happens when he’s at ease or when anxiety is starting to grow inside him. When he’s calm and relaxed; or when he finds himself in need of a familiar face not to blow it all away.

Sakura has this effect on him. Even without really saying or doing anything, her sole presence is enough to warm his chest. It’s as natural as the clouds floating in the sky, and sometimes, when they’re not in the same room, he finds himself missing her figure. With her green eyes and pink hair, she has become a constant presence in his life, and if anything, Sasuke likes constant. Always has.

He also likes her, but that’s not been questioned right now.

He’s acknowledged his feelings for her for almost three months now, and he figures he’s still trying to get used to the idea of seeing her as more than just his best friend. It’s not that their relationship has changed that much from what it was before, but everything around her just feels different ever since Naruto pointed out the obvious. Sasuke has accepted this new side of him, and perhaps, the biggest change in his young life is the fact that he has to constantly remind himself that he no longer needs silly excuses to hide his feelings for her. He has to keep telling himself that it’s not an absurd for a boy like him to consider making a move in a girl like her. He can dare to reach out for her hand or— if he’s feeling bold enough, and the situation calls for it— kiss her lips.

It’s weird to even think about doing that to the girl who has been by his side since they were in dippers. She‘s still the same Sakura, but now that he has allowed himself to picture them together, she’s just different. He’s different, too, and he can’t really say he hates it. Quite the opposite, in fact.

And right now, while he’s still trapped in his thoughts, he also has to remind himself that staring at her is not as creepy as it would be if he was just a stranger.

It isn’t, right?

Perhaps he should stop, then. Or maybe—

His thoughts are suddenly interrupted as a folded piece of white paper shows up on his desk. He quirks his right brow in confusion, and without thinking twice, his eyes drift to Naruto because— well— who else would’ve thrown that at him in the middle of the class, right? However, much to his surprise, his blonde best friend couldn’t have done such a thing, no. He’s fast asleep on his desk across the classroom, and the Uchiha is almost sure he can see drool sliding down his open mouth.

That loser, he thinks. If he’s not going to pay attention to the class, he might as well try to pretend otherwise in order to avoid a future lecture. Maybe he really deserves it, after all.

Still, if the idiot didn’t throw the folded paper, then who did it?

He arcs his brows again, and before trying to reach another conclusion based solely on his speculations, Sasuke decides to read the hidden note. Carefully, then, he unfolds the paper, only to be surprised by the familiar and delicate handwriting in it.

“Shouldn’t you be paying attention to the class?”

A smirk crosses his lips as he reads those words, and he knows he’s been busted. Dark eyes, then, turn to his right only to find green ones already staring back at him. She offers him a teasing smile, using her index finger to point towards the blackboard, to which he simply shrugs. Apparently, Sakura has caught him staring for a little too long, and if he were to be honest, he’s glad she did because now he has an excuse to silently flirt with her.

Now, he has an excuse to observe and to be observed by her emerald eyes.

If he had to pick, that’s probably one of his favorite activities of the day now that he has decided to build up some courage to make a move. He likes to tease her without using words just to see all of her unique reactions flourishing. He likes to see the many shades of red that tinge her cheeks whenever she’s embarrassed and the way she sometimes has to cover her mouth to suppress a loud laugh. He likes when she bites her lower lip whenever she’s thinking about something, and he sure as hell loves it when he sees one of her soft smiles slowly making its way up to her bright eyes.

She really is the cutest girl he knows. Not that he will ever admit that to her.

Without thinking twice then, he grabs his black pen and rips a piece of paper from his notebook. He scribbles around, folds it and expertly throws it so their secret lands on her desk. She spares him a knowing look before unfolding it, and he watches as she silently grows embarrassed at his written words. Her cheeks are flushed pink, and the pout that takes over her lips is enough to tell him his silly message worked. It was just a regular compliment, but he knows she’s never been good with those ever since he called her annoying on second grade.

One would say he’s to be blamed for her complex, but he likes to think he has only helped her develop one of her unique traits.

Sakura shakes her pink head, then, and he watches as she rips another piece of paper so they can continue their sneaky conversation. They certainly look like children right now, especially since they both know they can just pick their phones from their pockets and text each other. It would be easier, sure, but not half as fun.

“Very charming. Still, you’ll need more than, that if you want my notes!” is her answer, with an exclamation mark written with a big dot on the bottom, and he pretends to be taken aback by those words. She’s still blushing, he can tell, and he feels oddly proud for that. Maybe he shouldn’t, though, because he knows she dreams of becoming a great doctor someday and she just loves biology so so much that, perhaps, he should really just leave her to her studies.

But it’s stronger than him. Having her reactions and her attention all to himself makes him selfish, and even if he hates to act differently than what he’s used to, he doesn’t complain one bit when he does that for her.

It’s all for her. All because of her.

He’s but a teenager living his first love, and that alone should give him the right to enjoy this fleeting phase next to her. People say it’s the best moment of life, and even if he doesn’t know wether it’s true or not, he’s ready to, at least, try to make the best of it.

So, yes, Sasuke is going to keep sending her notes during her favorite class if they make her smile. He’s going to keep choosing the right words to make her blush and he’s going to keep stealing glances, hoping to be caught, until the day comes when he doesn’t really have to steal anymore.

fin

——-—

a/n: okay, first of all, HAPPY SASUSAKU MONTH, y’all! Here’s to another wonderful month filled with love and sasusaku! Let’s all have fun and celebrate our beloved ship! Now, to the story... honestly, I hate it so much. I think this is one of the worst things I’ve ever written, but at least, it’s over now. Nothing came to me when working with this theme and I really just wanted to move on with this already. I thought about writing something about Sasuke making amends with his newfound love for Sakura in a high school setting, but it’s just meh. Sorry for that. It’ll get better, I promise XD Still, hope you have fun!

#sasusaku #sasusaku month 2021 #Sasusaku month #ssmonth21 #ss month #myssfics

34 notes · View notes

cosmic-day · 3 years

Text

Leverage: Redemption – finally got to see it and loved it. So happy to have my fave comfort show and my best found family back together. More rambling under the cut:

I did think it took a few episodes for them to find their groove – the Paranormal Hacktivity Job in particular felt weirdly “off” in ways I can’t quite articulate – but once they settled back in to it, it was just like having the old show back in the best way, with the second half being a particularly strong run of episodes.

Leverage does feel like a show we need now more than ever. “It’s gotten worse out there,” says Elliot early on and my god, is he ever right. Which in some ways made me love the show even more, but also at times made it harder to watch in an unexpected way. I thought I’d find the “let’s take down the Sackler family, I can’t believe our lawyers are letting us not even disguise this a little bit” episodes cathartic, but they just made me depressed because fuck knows nothing like that is happening in real life.

Breanna is adorable. I mean, I know we can’t agree on much, fandom, and women of colour have traditionally had a hard time of it, but we can at least agree that Breanna is adorable and awesome? Missed Hardison, but loved how he felt like a presence in the team even when he was not there. And, as previously mentioned, Breanna = made of win. If there’s a season two, can we keep both of them?

Similarly, the way they wrote out Nate, and the way they portrayed Sophie’s grief really worked for me. That said, I did miss Nate more than I thought I would. He was my least favourite character in Leverage by some margin, but sill a brilliant character. His sheer rage was the engine that drove the original show, and I did find myself missing that energy, especially in the early episodes.

On the other hand, Nate’s righteous anger and manpain could often end up taking up all the oxygen in the room and leaving less space for the other characters, meaning his absence did lead to a better balance in the team. Sophie in particular flourished without him. I loved the way she took on the mastermind role, while Parker retained her leadership role with Leverage:International. It was also clear that Parker was stepping aside at least partly for Sophie’s sake, and Sophie continually consulted with and deferred to Parker, so they felt like co leads.

Speaking of masterminds, thank you show for not making New Guy automatic mastermind, I should have known better than to worry. Our Mr Wilson was an really good addition to the team. I loved how relaxed he was about being out of his depth, how open to learning, and how generally kind and nice and supportive he was, while also being a guy who had clearly enabled real evil. And I loved how Hardison laid out for him what redemption actually means. I guess if we never see him again he had a good arc, but if there’s a season 2 I’d love to see him back.

Finally, my OT3 is intact. Sort of. I mean, I didn’t really expect a canon poly relationship. And I’m fine with them being queerplatonic, especially given I always headcanoned Parker as ace and Elliot as aro. But Elliot’s line about wanting what Parker and Hardison had made me a little sad. Still, the whole “till our dying day” vibe was present and correct, and seeing them reunited in the last episode was as joyous as expected.

In conclusion, more please.

p.s. now we know that Mounties are the only thing our crew is afraid of, they must have had a run-in with Benton Fraser at some point, right? Which would actually be a really interesting crossover. Fraser would sympathise with them a lot, but absolutely reject their methods. I don't think I'm up to writing that crossover, but I hope somebody is.

#leverage #leverage redemption #reaction posts #cosmic posts #general incoherent flailing #ot3 to end all threes

10 notes · View notes

mrsbarnes107 · 3 years

Text

Secret of the Widow

-part eight-

Summary: Post Endgame time period. The team is healing, trying to navigate this new normal they’ve found themselves in when Bucky and Sam bring home a stray with an attitude and a secret. Will the broken team take her in? Or is it too much to bare?

Warnings: language, *eventual* violence and smut, death, fluff, angst

Pairings: Bucky x OC

Disclaimer: this is posted to Wattpad as well and it WILL HAVE PLOT. I’m a Bucky hoe so there will be smut and romancy stuff but this is a series, so plot plot plot and slow burn.

*Bucky POV*

I've finally gotten away from Wilson and his incessant blabbering, and am now making my way to the training room to find Ali.

Ever since she got here, there's been this ache in the back of my mind. It feels a lot like the first time I saw Steve all those years ago. A dull tug, trying to pull something forward.

She knows me. Knows me well apparently. And I feel deep in this little dark corner of myself, that I know her too. She unsettles me immensely, the thought of her risking herself so wantonly with the Winter Soldier, knowing my past and darkness. It's horrible. But shes also comforting. A type of comfort I haven't felt in a long while.

She's a wild card still. Unpredictable. And yet she peaked my curiosity.

I still can't get her teary blue eyes out of my mind. I'm thankful I heard her sneak past my room the night before. Otherwise I never would have followed her to the lab. Never would have seen her pain and loss so openly. Her cries were heartbreaking, sobs wrenched from deep inside.

I understand what it's like to feel utterly alone and confused. And I wish I could take that feeling from her.

Taking a quick left I stop at the door of the training room, hearing music and the dull thud of knife hitting Kevlar.

God help me I can't get the image of her dancing so carefree in my hoodie out of my head either. Walking into the kitchen to that view, well fuck me back to the 40s. A beautiful woman dancing and singing, a home cooked meal on the stove, and a blade twirling between delicate fingers. She's going to give me whiplash. Or death.

This need to protect and cherish her conflicts with the instinct to be wary and set clear distance and it's worse than the cyclone at Coney Island.

I just know this isn't a good idea.

***

*OC POV*

"You're letting go too soon Doll."

FUCKING BLOODY HELL I'm gonna kill this man.

I very much did NOT let out a tiny squeak for the second time today and launch ANOTHER knife straight at Buckys (admittedly handsome) stupid face.

Okay I did.

With a cocky flourish he catches it and give the blade a nice twirl. "See? Too soon. You're aim would be more accurate if you hold off a second or so before releasing. And the blade would slice through the air better. It's catching too much resistance from the angle."

"You have gotta stop sneaking up on me Sarge. Unlike yourself, I'm too young for heart failure."

Bucky sends me a scowl and scoops up the rest of the knives from the target then makes his way over.

"Sweetheart, I may have some years under my belt, but I'm a fully and exceptionally functioning man." I look down to see the tip of a knife gliding up my stomach and to my throat, pausing to move a lock of hair behind my ear.

Suddenly sweaty I clear my throat and swipe a knife from his metal hand. "I'll take your word for it Buckaroo. Now you wanna show me how exceptionally you can teach?"

At that he steps behind me, chest pressed against my back, hard muscle very much evident under his tight shirt. His hand gliding down my arm softly until he wraps his fingers around mine, now holding the knife together.

His (very beefy) leg presses between my thighs, allowing his foot to hook around mine and reposition my leg.

Hell in a handbasket its fucking hot in here. Jeez. My heart is going wild and I know for a fact Bucky can hear it.

His breath ghosts along my neck as he murmurs low against my ear.

"You're quick and underestimated because of your size. Use that more to your advantage and strike like a little viper. Fast and deadly."

He guides my hand as if drawing the knife from my thigh holster, making my hips shift back against his. As our arms make a slow, practiced arc Buckys metal hand squeezes my hip telling me when to release the knife.

With another light squeeze he steps back and nods for me to continue.

This man will undoubtedly be a distraction in the field if I don't get it together.

With a sigh I drop to a knee only to pounce back up in a spin while drawing the blade, letting it sail through the air in complete silence, slicing through it only to come to a halt with a smack that echoed through the room. In the blink of an eye it went from my fingertips to the mannequins skull a good twenty yards away.

He really didn't need an ego boost but damn if he isn't talented.

"Better. Now let's see how you do hand to hand."

I was suddenly back to the mat with a very heavy soldier pinning my body down, knife pressing into the hollow of my throat.

I let out a soft grunt as piercing blue eyes filled with concealed torment and a hint of playfulness met my own. "Well this brings back memories... for me at least."

Using his confused pause as an advantage, I run my foot along the inner seam of his sweatpants as the other slips from between his to hook around his thigh.

A startled grunt escapes open lips and the knife moves a fraction as his hold loosens. With considerable effort I had the hulking soldier underneath my straddling hips, knife now running up his chest, small cuts appearing along his shirt.

Large hands rest on my thighs, squeezing with every dip of the blade as it runs along the ridges of concealed muscle.

"Dirty move Doll."

With a small shrug his shirt gets cut open completely. "It can get dirtier Sarge."

I shift against his hips and his hands clamp down hard, keeping my legs in place, most definitely leaving Bucky shaped bruises.

"Are we ever gonna have that conversation you promised? Cause I feel like I'm missing some important pieces to our story."

"Huh, I thought this was a training session, not a slumber party." With another squirm against his crotch he lets out a low growl and I hop up, tossing the knife into the floor by his head. "Come and get me Barnes."

With that I took off down the hallway, thundering footsteps quickly catching up with mine. Damn super soldier speed.

As his arm wrapped around my waist I let out a giggle and ducked underneath it, landing a blow to his stomach. Which did little more than make him let out a grunt of air as I dropped to swipe his legs from beneath him.

With a roll Bucky jumped back up and caught my arm, spinning me against the wall.

His thigh pressed between mine as his metal hand locked my arms above my head, our chests heaving together despite the minimal effort of the chase.

The forgotten blade appeared in his other hand, the sharp tip trailing down my arm, dipping along the collarbone. Buckys head tilted as my heart beat went double time, a small smirk appearing on his lips.

With a smooth flick of his wrist a bead of blood trailed down my throat, stopping between the swells of my breast, Buckys eyes following the slow path returning to mine darkened and razor focused.

With a glimpse to the lip I trapped between my teeth he cocks his head with a suspicious glare. “Bringing back more memories Sweetheart?”

“I don’t know, is it Sarge?”

Don’t get your hopes up. Don’t get your hopes up. Don’t get you-

Buckys hips press firmly into my own, his thick thigh shifting higher, now tight against the needy heat between my legs. A very noticeably large and stiff bulge pressed into my hip. How am I not on fire yet?

A small whimper escapes my lips as Bucky trails his mouth and nose along the length of my neck, beard scratching deliciously against heated skin. My hips bucked, wonderful friction meeting my clothed center, a moan escaping with a sigh as I repeated the action.

Bucky growled low in his throat as his hips snapped against mine, leg tensing against my soaked cunt. “I might not remember our past yet Doll, but I remember this feeling. Your warmth. First time I looked into those big blue eyes I knew you were gonna ruin me. Had no idea who you were, but fuck it all I knew you somehow.”

With a slight tug he released my arms, hands falling to my waist, tracing a path along my body.

I rested my palm against his heart, as the other cupped his cheek. Thumb tracing his red lips I looked into lust blown confused eyes. “Maybe one day you’ll remember our story, until then I’ll remember for the both of us.”

A rough thumb brushes over a hard nipple as his hips start to rock steadily into my own. A small moan escapes as my fingers tangle in Buckys thick hair. His mouth once again finding my neck, this time leaving hot kisses. His tongue traced along my ear, teeth nipping along the skin until he reached the spot on my neck that made me keen.

His lips kissed a smile into my skin as he sucked it into his mouth, leaving his mark on my body. My greedy hand began to make its way to the band of his sweats as he-

“Ms. Romanoff and Mr. Barnes, the team needs you in the conference room immediately.” Friday said from above us, damn near giving me a heart attack.

Cockblock. “Fucking hell.” I mutter as my head tilts back to rest against the wall, Buckys hot breath puffing against my chest from where his face is pressed into my shoulder. I run my fingers through his hair for a moment, relishing his warmth after so long being cold.

Bucky pressed a kiss to my collarbone as I clear my throat. “Well, duty calls soldier.”

As he backs away and releases my body, I rock onto my tiptoes and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth before swiftly walking to the conference room.

I’m almost certain these shorts are ruined. My sanity is not far off either.

#avengers #avengers fic #black widow #bucky barnes #bucky barns fanfiction #captain america #endgame #marvel #spiderman #sebastian stan #knife kink #winter solder #iron man #tony stark #steve rogers #tfatws #bucky x oc #bucky x reader #wanda maximoff

46 notes · View notes

shirtlesssammy · 3 years

Text

6x22: The Man Who Knew Too Much

Then:

I will never forgive the show for this pain

Now:

Sam is running for his life and pops into a bar to escape the cops. Duma The bartender tells him to leave and grabs a bat, but Sam begs and she relents. She asks him his name, but he doesn’t remember.

She tries helping him retrace his steps. He doesn’t remember anything before two cops finding him and him taking them down before running. She tells him that he needs to go to the doctor. He refuses. There’s somewhere he has to be --something he has to stop.

Sam sees a HP Lovecraft book and has flashes of Bobby and the Nite Owl Hotel. The bartender makes one final push to take Sam to the hospital, but he needs to get to that hotel. She offers to drive.

Once there, Sam instinctively knows to go to one room. They break in to find the room one giant murder board. She also finds his fake IDs.

Sam has another --longer-- flashback to Bobby, Dean, and him finding Eleanor in an alley, dying. She tells them they know how to crack Purgatory open.

They plan on opening the door at noon --a solar eclipse.

Cas flaps in and apologizes.

Dean wants a fight, but Cas is beyond that. He tells them to go home and just let him stop Raphael. ”I wish it hadn't come to this. Well rest assured, when this is all over, I will save Sam, but only if you stand down.”

He then breaks Sam’s wall.

In the present day, Sam remembers his name, and doesn’t want to tell Robin (she has a name!--had to look that up though) because it would be crazy. Sam remembers Bobby --but only finds his address. Robin decides it’s her time to bounce. Sam decides to drive his car --his car the Impala --his car-- to Sioux Falls.

Robin tries stopping him from doing that though. He might not like what he finds.

Sam’s spidey sense kicks in and he tackles Robin to the ground as the window to the Impala gets shot out. Sam gets back up again to see himself aiming a gun at him.

Wherps. Sam’s actually comatose in the warded room in Bobby’s basement. Bobby comes in and they recap how royally boned they are.

Dream Sam and Robin start driving. Robin starts freaking out about their situation. Dean flashes a light at Sam’s eyes, and suddenly it’s day in Sam’s world. “It was night, and now it’s day.” Robin is DONE. Sam hears a noise and convinces her to get back in the car. He grabs a shotgun and heads into the forest. His other self stalks him behind a tree.

The other Sam breaks down what happened --and reveals that he’s Sam without a soul. He wants to take charge in Sam’s noggin. Sam takes off running and they engage in The Most Dangerous Game until our Sam outsmarts Soulless Sam and shoots him in the back. “If you think I’m bad, wait until you meet the other one,” Soulless Sam says, and dies. His essence is absorbed into Sam.

Sam returns to the car, with many memories restored.

For DAMN She’s Fine Science:

Unfortunately, one of the memories Sam retrieved was of a monster who was using her as a shield. Sam shot and killed her, Soulless Sammy style, to get her out of his way. RUDE. (I totally forgot about this during the later Amara soulless arcs - I don’t know why I keep trying to hold Sam up as this peak virtuous character?) Robin poofs away, having fulfilled her role as the ghost of Christmas past.

At Bobby’s, Dean drinks and IS SAD.

Balthazar flaps in to mock Dean and Bobby - but also reassure them that he’s still on their side. He hands over Cas’s whereabouts and flaps away.

Meanwhile, Crowley hands over the Purgatory spell mix (a jar of blood) to Cas.

Castiel looks contemplative, and quietly informs Crowley that he’s re-negotiating their agreement. He refuses to hand any souls over to Crowley. Cas advises Crowley to either flee or die. And I’M SORRY but I’m into it. Crowley zaps away.

Sam sneaks his way into a seriously over-dramatically lit room. SAM, your mind XD. The drama llama who decorates with a hundred candles turns out to be none other than Sam Winchester, victim of hellish torture.

For 80’s Angsty Music Video Science:

Dean leaves the address Balthazar gave them by Sam’s head and bids him farewell. Mournfully. Just before he departs, he gently lays a gun on Sammy’s bed right next to the note. DEAN WINCHESTER, that’s not safe gun handling. Smh

Sam’s goth self tells him that Tortured Sam has to be reabsorbed before Sam can wake up. Sam trades his gun for a knife - for extra drama apparently - then stabs himself and sucks in all that extra soul whammy. In the bunker, he flails dramatically on the cot.

Balthazar flaps in to meet Cas, who is deeply concerned that Dean’s on his way. He notes that he’s been betrayed and orders Balthazar to root out the mole. Balthazar is a TERRIBLE LIAR the entire conversation.

“I’m doing my best in impossible circumstances,” Cas says. Still, he’s being plotted against and he finds it super frustrating. Balthazar continues to bluster away, confident that he’s fooled his friend. Flapping behind a poorly dissembling Balthazar, Cas stabs him. Balthazar burns away. Noooooooo!

Dean and Bobby pull up to the building and find it’s fully guarded by angels. They’re grousing about their odds when a massive cloud of demons swoops in. The demons upend the Impala and assault the compound while Castiel pours over the spell. Crowley flaps in to meet Cas, who immediately moves to smite him.

“You can palm me all you want,” Crowley flirts, but he’s got a new BFF. Raphael flaps in. Crowley and Raphael chastise Cas for his power overreach. It looks like the end for our hero! Cas tosses the jar of Purgatory blood to Crowley and flaps away.

Crowley and Raphael perform the Purgatory gateway spell. (Side note: hey, remember when Michael just snapped his fingers and made a door into Purgatory in the last season? Good times, good times.) Dean and Bobby claw their way out of the Impala and sneak into the ritual. Unfortunately for them, they’re found out immediately and flung across the room.

A worse-for-wear Sam stumbles past the Impala, and then heads for Crowley’s lair.

Crowley finishes the spell with a flourish only for...nothing to happen. Cas flaps in holding a half-empty jar. He had the real blood all along! Castiel glows with power, and Rave!Cas is born? “They’re all inside me. Millions upon millions of souls.” Crowley flaps away, which is smart...because Cas snaps his finger and explodes Raphael.

He smiles serenely at Dean and Bobby. Okay, just kidding. He ONLY has eyes for Dean, who counsels him to send the souls back to Purgatory before the eclipse window...er...eclipses. Castiel is not on board with this plan! He needs to visit holy rage upon Raphael’s followers in Heaven.

“We were family once. I’d’ve died for you,” Dean tells him. “I’ve lost Lisa. I’ve lost Ben. Now I’ve lost Sam. Don’t make me lose you too.” Cas hears it and...tosses it aside. And then he tells Dean the REALLY BAD NEWS. They’re not family!

Oh, also, he’s declaring himself the new god and he’d really prefer their flannel-clad shoulders to be prostrate before him. We end on stacked zoom footage which reminds us that yes, Robert Singer sure did direct this episode.

I Am Your Quotes Now:

I love what you've done with the place. It's very Beautiful Mind meets Se7en

I am all filled up on crazy for today

You will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord. Or I shall destroy you

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #cas #bobby singer #crowley #spn 6x22 #the man who knew too much #supernatural season 6

14 notes · View notes

dorizardthewizard · 3 years

Text

The Revival of Akillian: Chapter 11

Prologue / Chapter 10 / Chapter 12

11. SNOW KIDS VERSUS WAMBAS

Located on the edge of the marsh, the Jungle Stadium seems quite primitive from a distance: all in wood, poles and bamboo, covered with large hanging plants, crossed by a walkway formed from vines and flexible rods, accessible only by bridges of vines. Its technical tower, which supports the press and trainer pods, also made of wood, is adorned with a waterfall around which several plants flourish; curious decoration... but make no mistake: like all stadiums in the Galaxy, it is equipped by Technoid: synthetic memory turf filled with sensors, electromagnetic barriers, communication pods, referee terminals at high speeds, impact memory nets, exclusion pods, flying stretchers, giant holographic screens and so on…

In the dressing rooms, rustic but air-conditioned (a very attentive consideration from the Wambas for their guests, who have come from the cold), where a spherical screen suspended from a long bamboo pole shimmers, Aarch’s disconcerted team observe Thran, who is writhing in pain on the bench, hands on his stomach.

- Poor Thran, you really didn’t look at what was on your plate! - notes Micro-Ice.

- Please, don’t remind me… - Thran moans, pale and sweating.

- You have to be really stupid to eat that dirt! - criticizes Sinedd contemptuously.

- They invite us to eat, so we eat, it’s normal! - D’jok retorts. - It’s called politeness. Another thing you know nothing about!

- Tasting it was polite... oh... (Thran grimaces, doubled over) On the other hand, taking more was not a great idea!

- No way! How many times did you eat it?

He painfully raises three fingers.

- Well done, Thran! – scolds Rocket from the middle of the locker room. - You all heard Aarch: we absolutely have to win this match. And for that, we will need everyone!

- You think you can tell me what to do, new guy? - Sinedd barks. - Who do you think you are?

- Let it go, Sinedd! - warns D’jok.

- Thank you but it’s okay, I can defend myself. - assures Rocket.

He glares at Sinedd as if to say, “One more word and I’ll clobber you”, when Ahito wakes up with a start.

- I’ve got it! The Snow Kids!

They all stare at him, confused.

- What, weren’t you looking for a name for the team?

- Yeah, about two days ago! - Micro-Ice smirks. - You’re pretty quick on the uptake, Ahito!

- Yeah, the Snow Kids… I think it sounds good. You take Akillian… the snow, the sports… you put it together… you get the Snow Kids!

- Yeah… - muses D’jok. - It’s not bad at all. So who’s for?

All arms go up - even Thran, who manages to let go of his stomach. Only Sinedd does not participate in the vote.

- Me too, - says Aarch, who had just entered the locker room with Clamp.

- That’s fine with me, - approves the latter.

- You really like it? - Ahito is surprised, happy to have had a good idea.

- Yes, but a name alone is not enough. You also need...

-… beautiful brand-new football kits! - Clamp completes, his arms loaded with said jerseys.

- Oooh! Wow! Awesome!

He puts them on the table, and everyone rushes in to unfold their jerseys. They are blue and white, with two purple stripes on the arms, and the back is decorated with a large white number in a red circle. The same number is printed on the chest, but smaller, at the level of the heart.

- Awesome! – exclaims Ahito excitedly. - These are the same outfits that our players wore in Akillian’s heyday, can you imagine?

- It really does something to you… - sighs Micro-Ice, moved.

D’jok is quick to take off his T-shirt and put on the jersey.

- With this, we’re a real team now: the Snow Kids!

- That, we’ll judge on the pitch. - tempers Aarch.

While the Snow Kids rave about their outfits, Clamp, with a multi-function remote control, activates the spherical screen that displays a 3D football field.

- Alright! These will be your positions. - says Aarch. - Ahito in goal, Thran and Mei in defense, Tia and Rocket in midfield. Finally, the two strikers will be D’jok and Sinedd.

As he indicates each position, miniature figures of the mentioned players appear on the field.

- But what about me, sir? - asks Micro-Ice.

- You will be a substitute.

Sinedd laughs. Aarch turns to him.

- Something wrong, Sinedd?

- Ah! Uh, rhm… no no, nothing at all. Just something stuck in my throat… rh-rhm!

- But sir, I’m feeling on fire today, I swear! - Micro-Ice pleads. - Let me in and I’ll score three goals for you, minimum!

- Listen, Micro-Ice, being part of a team also means respecting the manager’s decisions. So, don’t argue!

- Yes, sir… - sighs Micro-Ice, lowering his head.

His disappointment is painful to see: for a moment, Mei could almost take pity on him.

***

On the pitch and under the burning sun, the waterfall which tumbles down from the top of the technical tower reveals all its usefulness: misted by a judicious ventilation system, it disperses a refreshing spray over the stadium, which prevents players - especially foreigners - from being overcome by the heat before the end of the first half. Another delicate consideration from the Wambas… with its large masts and canvas canopies, the entire stadium evokes a huge sailboat stranded in the middle of the jungle. A puzzling image, reinforced by the standard Technoid equipment: very incongruous in this natural setting, fixed among the wooden constructions using vines and ropes.

- Are you okay? - D’jok asks Thran, as the Snow Kids move to their respective positions.

- Yes, I feel better… hey! They are even more impressive in their outfits!

Team Wamba has just arrived on the pitch. With their large eyes, pointed ears, hands and feet with three clawed fingers, and slender body with fine and powerful musculature, they evoke the elves of ancient legends. Expressing fair play, they greet their young opponents with a small wave of the hand before taking their positions.

- Focus, kick off in a minute! – announces Aarch, leaning over his control screen in the pod reserved for him, where Clamp and Micro-Ice have also taken their places. The latter sulks, sitting on the floor in a corner. He doesn’t even want to see the game: he no longer cares. 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… 0, ticks the countdown on the monitors.

The ball bursts up from the centre, applauded by the crowd, composed mainly of Wambas. D’jok leaps up, but he is no match for Wouwambou, who starts out using the Roar. Haloed with golden sparks, he retrieves the ball in the air - his clawed foot grips it like a hand -, falls back smoothly on the field and whizzes past Tia and Rocket with a series of hyper-fast twirls.

Commenting on this game is Callie Mystic - she seems to have decided to follow the Snow Kids until the end of their journey:

- Let’s go! This is the first friendly game for Akillian’s new team, the Snow Kids. Immediate recovery of the ball by the Wambas, who lead their first offensive. Wouwambou directly evades Tia and Rocket thanks to his flux! He passes to Lun-Zaera who shoots - a shot blocked by a save from Ahito, the young Snow Kids goalkeeper, who immediately throws the ball to his brother Thran. Thran manages to dribble past two Wamba players and passes to Sinedd, Sinedd passes forward to Rocket, but it’s intercepted by the Wambas, who are on the attack!

Rocket, looking for Tia, does not see Lun-Zaera appear in front of him, shrouded in golden flames. He hesitates for a tenth of a second - enough for the fastest player in the Galaxy to steal the ball from him and storm the goal defended by Ahito, who this time has little time to sleep. Lun-Zaera comes across Mei on her way, who practically sticks to her and, with a skillful tackle, manages to deflect her shot: the ball ricochets against the upper bar of the goal. So much the better, because Ahito didn’t see it coming! His brother catches the ball on the fly, kicking it forward. The ball is picked up by a Wamba player perched on the technical bridge: an unconventional but authorized position, as long as his flux has allowed him to leap that far.

- What a game! - marvels Callie, who sees everything from multiple angles in the media pod. – This is far from a simple friendly match. The Wambas are not holding back, they’re imposing their rhythm in this game!

In a superb triple somersault, the Wamba sends the ball to the feet of a teammate marked by Rocket, who passes back to Lun-Zaera, who once again finds Mei in her way, managing to steal the ball from her this time. She passes to Sinedd, who takes advantage of a gap to attempt a forward breakaway, followed by an unmarked D’jok. Very quickly, Sinedd is stopped by two Wamba defenders, but instead of passing to D’jok, tries to dribble past them. He succeeds, only to be immediately tackled by a third who falls from the sky, taking the ball from him with a pirouette.

- What an idiot! – shouts D’jok, raising his arms to the sky.

- Oh dear, what’s going on? Sinedd seems to be refusing to collaborate with D’jok! – comments Callie. - Aarch will have to work on good cohesion in his team! Sinedd loses the ball, the Wambas quickly move up the field towards the opposing goal...

By a succession of highly acrobatic passes, the ball once again reaches the feet of Lun-Zaera, who whirls and shoots - once again, Ahito doesn’t see it coming: the ball is already in the net while he is still leaping.

- Goal!!! - Callie Mystic yells. - Taking advantage of a clumsy initiative from Sinedd, the Wambas have just scored the first goal!

Thunderous ovation from the crowd in the stands, who applaud as much this beautiful attack of their team as the heroic resistance of the young Akillians. In the pod, on the other hand, Aarch is not celebrating at all:

- What the hell are you waiting for? - he yells into his microphone. – Get the ball to Tia!

Each player, with an earpiece, receives the message loud and clear. Right off the throw, Rocket manages to snatch the ball away from an opponent and pass it to Tia on the other end of the field, in a beautiful, arced shot that draws a hum of admiration from the receiving player. Beset by Wouwambou, Tia has no other way out than to pass to Sinedd, who once again attempts a solo breakthrough. A Wamba tackles him, he dodges him with a jump and continues his charge, concentrated, ignoring his teammates - D’jok especially - who nevertheless signal to him. Good players, or wanting to give their goalkeeper a little work, the Wambas let him run...

- Sinedd is in possession of the ball again! - Callie comments. - He manages alone in front of the opposing goal, he shoots… what a masterful save by Bounzoff, the Wamba goalkeeper!

Despite his stoutness, he performs an acrobatic rear wheel kick in front of the net, magnified by a golden fire. The ball goes back to the middle of the field, miraculously intercepted by D’jok who immediately shoots - another save by Bounzoff, in an elegant somersault. Sinedd snatches the ball and shoots again - this time Bounzoff stops it with a hand. Spinning the ball on the tip of his big finger, he shakes a finger at the two breathless and crestfallen Snow Kids attackers.

- Bounzoff is certainly obstinate, - remarks Callie. - He has decided that today the ball will not go into his goal!

- What kind of play is that? - yells Aarch in front of his screen. – Are you playing football, or pinball?

The Wambas decide that this little interlude is over: from a very tight pass from Bounzoff to Wouwambou, they set out again. D’jok and Sinedd quickly retreat to the rescue of their defenders - overwhelmed by the dazzling attack of Wouwambou and Lun-Zaera, who exchange the ball at a remarkable speed, wiping out Tia and Rocket on the spot and confusing poor Thran, who does not know where to step. Sinedd then resorts to his treacherous blow which has done well on Micro-Ice: he dives forward and strikes the calf of Lun-Zaera, who flies into the air and falls on the lawn. Curiously, the terminal referees did not see the fault - perhaps they are rusty from the constant humidity... Wouwambou, who has already recovered the ball, performs a perilous leap over the Snow Kids defenders - the ball goes crashing into the net. Ahito didn’t have time to make the slightest movement to stop him.

- Gooooooal!!! - yells Callie Mystic. - Despite that foul from Sinedd that I thought I saw, but which the Wambas ignored!

- Sinedd, playing like this won’t get you anywhere! - Aarch shouts, pounding his fist on the table. - This goes for the rest of you too. Push forward, damn it!

- We could make a substitution, - suggests Clamp.

- Oh yeah, great idea! - Micro-Ice stands up.

- No, - Aarch refuses. - I want them to find their feet with this setup.

- Still, it was a good idea… - grumbles Micro-Ice, who sits down in his corner.

The match resumes. Rocket takes advantage of having recovered the ball (he does not quite know how) to pass to Tia while shouting at her:

- Go ahead, Tia! Try your luck!

She takes to the ball at her feet... the more she runs, the more she feels this fabulous energy invade her, electrify her, overflow in blue waves. Suddenly, the Wambas seem slower to her: she avoids one, jumps over a second who has attempted a slow tackle, then passes back to Rocket who, immediately after receiving the ball, shoots it back in a beautiful, twisted angle.

- What’s happening? - cries Callie in awe. - Tia seems to be using the Breath of Akillian, it’s incredible! As you can see, dear holo-spectators, it is indeed the Breath that was believed to have disappeared!

Two Wambas try to retrieve the ball in mid-flight, but Tia takes off in a column of blue lightning, followed by Wouwambou all in golden flames, who gazes at her in admiration - the Breath! She has the Breath! - then falls back, letting her shoot... again, Tia, who is nothing but crackling energy, feels her foot swinging off like a powerful pendulum, hitting the ball which shoots towards the Wambas’ goal. This time it is Bounzoff who isn’t fast enough: despite his lightning reflexes, the ball sinks into the net in a splendid shot.

- It’s a gooooal!!! – exclaims Callie Mystic. - The first goal of the young Snow Kids against the skillful Wambas, thanks to a fantastic shot from Tia boosted by the Breath of Akillian! What a feeling, dear holo-spectators!

Delirium in the stands: the audience cheers this goal as if it were their favorite team that had scored it. So are the Wambas...

The Snow Kids jump around, clapping each other on the shoulder and hugging each other. Rocket would love to kiss Tia but he doesn’t dare, and just hugs her briefly - she pulls away immediately. Only Mei and Sinedd do not share the general enthusiasm: both are jealous - for different reasons.

- Woah!! - Micro-Ice also jumps to his feet, after seeing the nice slow-motion action on Clamp’s monitor.

- There! This is exactly how you should be playing! – Aarch finally rejoices.

- The Snow Kids are back in the match, revived at 2-1 after a spectacular goal from Tia, their young prodigy! - declares Callie Mystic.

To resume play, Rocket decides on his own to place Tia as the third attacker. Receiving no comment from Aarch in his earpiece, he assumes that decision is correct. Tia therefore finds herself facing Wouwambou, who looks at her strangely. He is in the grip of a painful internal conflict: on the one hand, a new respect for this player who masters her flux so well, on the other this “contract” with Artegor Nexus, which he must honor... he closes his eyes and clenches his fists. He would like to be a thousand miles from here, still sick on Akillian... and to never have met Artegor Nexus.

The ball shoots up from the center and the match resumes. Very fast, very physical, very acrobatic: this time the Wambas are no longer laughing, they know that they have at least one challenging opponent ahead of them.

- Tia has already recovered the ball and is moving up the field at high speed, she dodges all her Wamba opponents, it’s incredible! - Callie exclaims in wonder.

In fact, this battle comes down rather to a duel between Tia and Rocket on the one hand, Wouwambou and Lun-Zaera on the other, the rest of the players being reduced to the role of extras. Using the Breath sparingly but with unmatched precision, Tia intercepts balls from her adversaries and controls those sent to her by Rocket, who, even if he does not have the Breath, has precision in his shots down to the millimeter. Callie Mystic notices:

- Tia seems unstoppable! Thanks to a one-two with Rocket who returns the ball to her with pinpoint accuracy, she reaches the Wamba penalty area. She is caught by Wouwambou who rushes towards her, also boosted by the Roar…

As Tia takes off for her famous cannon shot, Wouwambou also tears himself off the ground… he hits Tia on the fly, at full power, at full speed. The shock of the two bodies “doped” by their respective fluxes is equivalent, on scale, to an airplane crash in the air. Both crash to the ground, devastated.

- Foul!!! - shouts Callie Mystic. – An unfathomable foul from Wouwambou, captain of the Wambas, renowned for his fair play! What happened to him?

Wouwambou, more solid and muscular than Tia, is just stunned and gets up quickly. Tia, she remains unconscious...

The two teams come running, alarmed. Rocket exchanges a look with Lun-Zaera, from which he reads a reflection of his own dismay. Angrily, D’jok approaches Wouwambou, but is blocked off by Bounzoff who snaps at his confused captain:

- What’s going on?! What’s the matter with you?

- I… I think I had trouble controlling my strength. I am sorry…

The Wambas do not know how to lie, and there is some truth to Wouwambou’s words: this is not how he intended to eliminate Tia; he just wanted to stop her relentless attack, so the Wambas wouldn’t be ridiculed by this newbie kid. He hadn’t thought Tia’s Breath was so powerful, hadn’t calculated that within him the Roar was at its peak, swollen with anguish over his dilemma. Indeed, he didn’t consider any of this... it was unquestionably a foul. A serious foul.

Resigned, he lets himself be taken by the exclusion pod, which will suspend him for five minutes ten meters above the ground. Through its glowing walls, he watches the flying stretcher carry Tia into the locker room... in any case, he feels he has accomplished his mission, to be even with Artegor Nexus. He wishes with all his heart that Tia, this little prodigy, will recover quickly from her injury...

The gong (a real gong, struck by a lavender-dressed servant) strikes half-time, which is timely. The entire Snow Kids team is in the locker room around Tia, still unconscious. Rocket leans over her and strokes her hair...

- Stand back! – orders Clamp. – Give her some space!

D’jok paces up and down, his anger still with him since Bounzoff had prevented him from telling Wouwambou exactly what he thought of him.

- Seriously, I can’t believe it! Such a serious foul in a friendly match, I find that disgraceful, right, sir?!

- Right now, D’jok, our main challenge is to find a way to heal Tia. Without her, the Snow Kids are no more, you understand?

- Don’t worry, I’ll get her back on her feet. - intervenes Dame Simbai, who appears at the locker room door. She walks over to Tia, carrying a bag of herbs and potions over her shoulder. - Dealing with a shock between fluxes is kind of my specialty, isn’t it, Aarch?

- Simbai, you are a blessing. - he smiles, reassured.

#galactik football #the revival of akillian #lets just keep pretending the white haired guy is wouwambou #hmm mei taking pity on micro-ice? i wonder if the author will do anything more with this sinedd-mei-mice thing

8 notes · View notes