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junosmindpalace · 7 months

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Hihihi!! I absolutely LOVE your writing and i was wondering if i could request a modern setting senku x reader where they're academic rivals? Tho it would be cool if reader (can be either gn or fem!) was good at writing/literature and stuff instead of science like senku. I feel like it would be a silly little dynamic:3 Uhhm i hope it's okay!! Tysm in advance and pls take your time!! <3

hi hi! thank you for your request! i hope this is okay!

Though it often didn't seem like it since he is always so eager to indulge people in their scientific queries, Senku Ishigami is competitive.

This is something that his friend Taiju knows from all their gaming sessions, and later, this is something that is eventually discovered upon further watching him tackle tricky experiments. Never will Senku Ishigami turn his back on someone in need of help, on someone who wants to hear and learn more about science; but when a challenge presents itself, he’s determined to prove himself against it. Not for pride, but a sense of achievement. Excitement.

And for the longest time, you have been the biggest and most exciting challenge Senku has had.

The same went for you. Senku Ishigami had caught you quite off guard when you first met him. An eccentric, brilliant kid who wowed you with his scientific knowledge and capabilities. And when he discovered you in a similar fashion, a sort of unspoken rivalry was established--

--If rivalry even was the appropriate term to use, because there was never any real malice toward one another, especially from Senku’s end. Yet there was this lingering competitive air between the two of you on who could come out on top in certain projects. This was for all classes and assignments.

Jabs at one another was just part of your relationship (and sort of ritual, when in competition) with Senku, and certainly from an outsider’s perspective did it come off harsh and from a place of hatred. Any thoughts of malicious intent toward one another were instantly dissolved, however, when said outsider took notice of the way you two looked at each other, with not only matching challenging expressions, but genuine reverence and appreciation for what you bring out in one another.

Science, of course, was where Senku was primarily eager to take up a challenge. Though it was mostly him who showed you up in this area, it was you that showed him up when it came to literature. Reading, writing, communications; now that was your area to shine. It was not only this passion but your extensive general knowledge of the world (and what lies outside of it, which had pleasantly surprised Senku) and ambition for learning, forming relationships, and growing, along with your indulgence of Senku’s own enthusiasm, that made you so exciting to the scientist.

If previously discussed outsider who assumed that the two of you harbored malicious feelings for one another couldn’t catch on to those lingering gazes and continued to hold their previously stated assumption, there were many other instances that could’ve changed their view.

The two of you could often be found in a spare classroom sitting at the same table doing work together, asking each other questions and making conversation both pertaining to the work at hand and about whatever else was on your minds. Through the door that was often left half opened, passerbys could catch on to your enthusiastic chatter and get a glimpse through the long thin window an exchange of notes on the table the two of you occupied.

The members of the science club can always anticipate your visits, your name and face becoming recognizable as a regular visitor despite not being a formal member. Nevertheless you were always welcomed in with updates on projects, and you spent your time looking over (primarily Senku’s) shoulders and having your eccentric friend eagerly walk you through his own recent work.

The school newspaper and book club recognize his face just as much as the science club members recognize yours. The paper has covered Senku’s eccentric projects a few times after taking up your suggestion that the work he does would make for an interesting article. He’s read them and sprouted glowing praise on the way you captured the thrilling essence of science so stunningly (all in an awed tone as he scanned over the paper, while you attempted to exude nonchalance with a shrug, though you could feel the warming in your cheeks give yourself away). The book club has discussed quite a bit of science fiction from Senku’s own suggestions. He’s sat through a couple of meetings despite not being all that interested in genres that weren’t related to non-fiction, sci-fi or fantasy. Still, his in-a-nutshell summaries of chapters and events make you laugh, and so he at least gets something out of them.

And so when the misconception is eventually cleared up, the outsider can now see how endearing your dynamic really is; the fact that the two of you can get so into your competition but so very easily fall into a groove of working together. You encourage and build each other up to be better with your own work and questions inspiring him, and his inspiring yours.

And ultimately this is what made you so attractive to one another; the fact that you were both incredibly dedicated, hard working and intelligent people. Now, it’s no wonder the two of you got along so well together

(If there was something that wasn’t so endearing, and again brought up the point that perhaps you held some sort of malicious intent with your quips, it was when you’d combine your knowledge to gang up on others. The ill-natured vibe it gave off was unintentional on your parts.)

...

#i've been trying to get back into regularly writing for tumblr #but life has been busy #so hopefully this is okay!#dr stone x reader #dr stone fluff #dr stone oneshot #drst x reader #drst fluff #drst oneshot #senku ishigami x reader #senku ishigami fluff #senku ishigami oneshot

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myfavouritelunatic · 1 year

Text

The Blacksmith

Brace yourselves, this one is intense. AND I LOVE IT

Pairing: Halbrand/Sauron x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Graphic violence and smut. NSFW 18+

Links to Chapter One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, and Nineteen!

Chapter Twenty

Cursing the evil within him, you gathered yourself and quickly rode after him. Though for some reason, as fast as you pushed your horse, Halbrand could not be caught, and soon vanished from sight. You had been a fool to think that the light would remain victorious within him. The darkness in you was nothing compared to what lay within him after all. He had been lost to it for far too long, in fact most of his existence had been spent this way, a shroud of evil around his spirit. Yet you held fast to your duty, and to him, and rode on as quickly as your steed would allow. You had to reach him before any more lives would be lost at the hands of the dark lord.

Galadriel couldn't help but once again enter your mind. You knew your path to the light was true, and in that moment you recognised that Halbrand was right. She would not see it, not now, not yet. Time needed to pass and wounds needed to heal. And you and Halbrand needed to earn your redemption before you could ever dream of earning her trust once more. Once she had the proof that you and your love could indeed be saved, then everything would fall into place and be right in the world. It was that thought the kept you going and would keep you going until this was over.

After an hour or so of sprinting towards your love, the smell of fire found your nostrils, and sure enough, a flickering light on your horizon revealed itself to be the village set aflame. Halbrand hadn't just gone after those drunkards in the tavern. He claimed the whole township. You could hear the coughing of the people as they scattered about helplessly before you. Some of them were crying in lamentation, in agony. Two women noticed you, and their screams pierced the air as if you were the monster that plagued them. You dismounted your horse to try to help them but they ran from you, hiding behind whatever shelter remained unmarked by the burning.

Fastening your steed to the trunk of a small tree, you wandered on carefully, but with haste, searching desperately for Halbrand. He had been hard to spot in his black cape, yet your eyes finally found him, on the ground hovering over someone, whispering something in to their ear. The last words they'll ever hear. You watched as he flung his head back, the hood falling down, revealing the beautiful hair you adored so. Sensing your eyes on him, he gazed at you intently from over his shoulder, only one eye visible. And it was all you needed to see to know you were too late. Sauron was winning.

He rose to greet you, grinning through his blood stained face. "Oh my love... my love... I'm so glad you're here..." Clasping his hands upon your cheeks, he let his tongue enter your mouth, and as you kissed him, you could taste the dead on his lips. The metallic flavour, the passionate way he was kissing you, the thirst for you he held... the power he held... your head was suddenly swimming into dark waters you would certainly drown in. Catching yourself, you pushed him off of you, causing him to laugh. He uttered your name, his voice wicked. "Come on... you can't resist it... and I know you can't resist me..." "Halbrand stop! This is enough! I'm here to pull you back, remember? Remember our duty?"

He grabbed a glass bottle and hurled it into one of the engulfed houses, filling the air with the sudden sound of its breaking. Turning to you, he was stunned, and angry. "Our duty? Our duty?!" he picked up and threw another. "You heard how they spoke of me and my duty!" "Oh yes I heard, and yes I loathed it as much as you, but you can't murder every man that crosses you just because they said something you didn't care for!" Halbrand cackled maliciously. "That's something coming from you, my queen!" He was right, you had no standing whatsoever on which to lecture him in the ways of sparing innocent lives. Yet still, you did not give up. "My wrongdoings are in a past I am trying to leave behind... a past that you and I have since decided to fight against. You urged me to see that I was fated to save you, save us. Save Middle-earth. I want to believe in that purpose still, Halbrand. We need to believe it."

As your words were taken by his ears, you saw the expression on his face soften, his heavy breathing slowing. He started to come back to himself, away from Sauron and towards Halbrand. Towards the light. But like all good things it seems, this did not last. For in an instant, there was a skirmish behind him, and you watched stunned as a fire poker pierced his flesh, emerging from just underneath your love's left shoulder. His blood trickled fast down his chest, glistening in the light of the fires he had lit. Crying out in anger and pain, Halbrand dropped to his knees, to reveal the perpetrator who stood shaking behind him.

You ran to your king, tears streaming. Taking his face in your hands, you searched his eyes for a sign that he would be alright. "It's okay," he spoke, wincing. "The wound isn't fatal, my love. It would take... something these men do not possess to destroy me." His words were supposed to be reassuring but, the sight before you was almost too much to bear. You felt the change within you come on before you could stop it. Your eyes darted to the man who had impaled your king, and they were as sharp as the implement he had used. He was a pitiful creature, frozen in fear, the regret of his actions so plain on his snivelling face.

Rising up slowly, you removed your infamous dagger from the sheath attached to your dress. Stepping towards your next victim with deliberate torturous steps, ensuring the man knew what was coming for him. You could feel your rage consuming you, your own darkness brought forth once again. It had to be done, he had to die, the evil within you convincing you this was right. The light of your mother was nowhere to be found, unable to hold you back. And neither was Halbrand it seemed, as you saw him turn to face you, to witness what you were about to do. Locking eyes with him, his black serpent orbs returned, a malevolent grin slowly spreading across his face.

You returned the same expression, turning back to the villager, who had now backed into a stone wall, with nowhere to go. "Do you know why death has come for you?" you asked, toying with him, but the man did not respond, only his tears did the talking. "No man can kill Sauron... your foolishness, your treason shall be rewarded thusly... for thinking you could, for hurting my love... the dark lord..." And as the last word passed your lips, you thrusted the dagger up through his jaw and into his skull, causing the man's eyes to widen as death took his spirit. You smiled at your act of vengeance, pulling the dagger out of his head, and the mans blood and body fell to the ground, never to stand again.

"Oh my queen..." spoke Halbrand, his tone drenched in lust. Turning back to him, your breathing now heavy, the satisfaction on his face was delicious, and desire couldn't help but swell within your body. Suddenly, movement on the edge of your vision caused your head to snap to the right. Witnesses, you thought, they must be dealt with. The two women you had caught cowered in fear as you strode towards them, their screams cutting the night air as you cut through their flesh, silencing them. Looking up, another man was nearby, watching in horror, standing ready with a small plank of wood to defend himself. Yet he did not use it on you, and it shook in his hands before it fell to the ground as you ran your dagger through him.

The air was filled suddenly with laughter from the dark lord himself. It started slowly, an amused chuckle as he watched you work. Yet with each life you took it quickly grew, from an unhinged cackle, to a loud and complete malevolent delirium. You stalked your environment like a predator on a rampage, not wishing to cease until the only life left in this village was you and your king. The power you were feeling was intoxicating, the adrenaline coursing through you was a high you were relishing with each motion you made. Soon you came upon the charred remnants of the tavern and you couldn't help but go inside, wishing to see the devastation before the structure's inevitable collapse.

It was such an incredibly satisfying sight before you. The destruction of the fire was all consuming, the flames working their way through every inch of wood leaving black ash in their wake. Yet in a ironic twist of fate, the table and chairs you had sat at with Halbrand only hours ago remained so far untouched. This made you chuckle. Your brow was soaked in sweat within seconds of entering. The heat was so intense that it felt as if the air itself was on fire, yet you refused to leave until you were content with the justice the dark lord had dealt. Walking through you saw bodies on the floor, recognising some of the men as the ones who had bullied you both when they still had breath in their lungs. Now they would become dust. The abrupt breaking of glass nearby caused your eyes to look elsewhere, and you could hear movement from behind the bar. Suddenly burning beams from the ceiling above fell before you, it wouldn't be long now until the tavern was no more.

Wandering carefully across to the bar, stepping over the debris, you soon found the source of the scurrying: it was the barmaid. A wide grin quickly formed on your face, your eyes lighting up with glee. "Why hello there... I was hoping I might find you here." "Please, miss, please. Let me go!" she pleaded desperately. "And why exactly would she do that?" spoke a twisted voice from behind you. Your love had come to witness more of your crimes. Looking over your shoulder, your brief smile at him faded quickly as you noticed the iron that still pierced his body. The bleeding had stopped though, for now. Halbrand moved around behind the bar, helping you to corner the maid who had been so unnecessarily unkind to you both.

"Please..." she was sobbing now, "Please... I have children... a husband... I'm begging you." She was a mother. A mother you wanted to kill. Your mind began to blur with confusion. Mother... what taking the life of one would do to those children... the grief and emotional destruction it would cause, the ripple effect on lives you could not fathom, how one irreversible decision, one evil act, could alter someone's world forever. Oh what you would give to have your mother...

Halbrand snickered, "You think they are still alive?" he asked, mocking her. "You, my dear... you are the last." Tears streamed down her soot covered cheeks, and she coughed through her sobs. You knew she was about to die, and you knew you could prevent it. Halbrand spoke your name, snapping you out of it. "Shall we leave her to the flames, my love?" You looked to him, and the darkness within him reached deep into you, infecting the light that was trying to fight its way back to the surface, and you felt it be subdued, shrinking down until it was barely even a glimmer in your soul. Mother or no, you desired she die.

"I have a better idea, my love." you spoke, evil in your voice. "Fetch me an axe." you ordered the barmaid. When she didn't move, Halbrand bellowed loudly, his whole face shaking with rage. "DO IT!" The barmaid acquiesced reluctantly, and walked trembling into the kitchen to fetch the implement of her demise. Upon her return, you snatched the wooden handle from her grasp, eying off the sharpness of the blade. Another crash echoed out from behind you as more of the ceiling caved in. "If you're the last... doesn't that make you the spare?" you toyed with her. Halbrand answered for her, snickering once again. "I think it does, my love."

"It's time to fill up the trough... the pigs are hungry." you uttered with a smirk. The barmaid screamed, the definition of terror, as you raised the axe before bringing it down to land, slicing deep into her torso, penetrating shoulder to heart. The red liquid of her life cascaded down her such that the colour of her dress was changed. You removed the axe only to strike her swiftly again, removing an arm from her body. You felt her warm blood hit your skin and trickle down your neck. It splashed onto you again with the next blow, its colour lost in your crimson dress. Your eyes darted to Halbrand before you dealt the final strike, and he was in awe, completely spellbound by what you were doing. It was then that you ended the barmaid's torment, and what little life she was clinging to, by taking her head. The sound of her lifeless body hitting the floor was muffled by more debris coming down from above.

You dropped the axe where you stood, hastily taking Halbrand's hand and making for the exit. Once outside you stood and watched in silence as the building eventually crumbled to the ground. After a few moments, your love finally spoke. "I have never wanted to take you so badly as I do right now..." His words aroused you instantly. "But before that... we must remove the poker from me." "And you will heal?" "Faster than you would with the same wounds, yes. Though we may have to cauterise them." "Okay." Positioning yourself to pull the iron rod out of Halbrand, you tried desperately to ignore the wince that passed his lips as you gripped the poker. "Ready?" He nodded repeatedly, bracing himself for the pain to come. "Be quick now."

Using all your strength, you swiftly dragged the foreign object through Halbrand's flesh, until it was completely free of him. His cry of agony seemed to reach the stars it was so loud. Dropping to his knees again, blood immediately resumed exiting his body, and you wasted no time treating him. Thinking back to your mother's guidance, you seemed to remember enough to help with your current predicament. Although, she had never shown you how to cauterise a wound, only told you, so you prayed you would recall her steps accurately.

Kneeling down before him, you pulled Halbrand's cloak and clothing from him to best access his wounds, sadly this time leaving his trousers untouched. A few feet from you lay a small wooden rod, perhaps once the leg of a stool or chair, one end of it not yet consumed by the fire currently burning from the other. "Brace yourself." you warned him, before quickly taking the burning wood in your hand, and holding the flickering flame to your love’s flesh, sealing first the front, then the back. Halbrand cried out again, though not as loudly this time, and you wondered if that was maybe due to his smithing background, being used to burns, or that he simply had nothing left in him to scream for, the pain becoming too much.

Tossing the instrument aside, you took Halbrand's face in your hands, running your thumbs across his cheeks, the sweat from him soaking your skin. He smiled at you, saying nothing. "We will need to find some athelas to treat this further. The risk of infection is great. But you'll be okay?" you asked him, unsure of your confidence in your treatment. "I'll be okay." "Promise me." The misplaced grief you had once felt was still haunting you. "I promise." he assured, and your name was the last word that passed his lips before they collided with your own. His touch revived the passion you had felt for him earlier, during that moment as he watched you kill the first of many this night. His tongue moved against your own ravenously, such that breathing became scarce, and your lips were left feeling swollen and used after he moved his mouth elsewhere. Now his tongue was on your throat, and he moaned into you as he dragged it slowly over your skin. "She doesn't taste as good as you, my love..." he hummed into your ear before sucking on your lobe. You had forgotten you were covered in the blood of the barmaid.

"Are you sure?" you breathed, encouraging him, "Why don't you remind yourself...?" Halbrand moaned deliciously, snickering, before you felt his teeth graze your neck, piercing the skin just enough to draw a little blood. The way he sighed as he tasted you... you could barely hold yourself up, so you took a fistful of his hair, clinging to him, whilst the rest of you went limp. The gasps that escaped you were quickly muffled by his mouth upon yours once more, and the taste of you, confirmation of the deed, caused your adrenaline to surge.

"I want you inside me," you blurted out between kisses, "Now." Halbrand wasted no time obliging you, pulling down his trousers, freeing his hard length but not you of your dress. He was going to leave it on you. He really did love it so. Spinning you around so you faced away from him, he lifted the dress up to access the part of you he most craved. He entered you fast, deep, and hard, and you gleefully called out his name as he did so. Halbrand placed his hands on your hips, pulling you to meet his every thrust, a surge of pleasure vibrating through you with each movement.

Without warning, he suddenly took a hold of your hair, and you could feel it wrap around his hand, his wrist, pulling you upright enough that your palms were barely scraping the dirt. It stung wonderfully, and he gripped you tight, steadying himself as he picked up the pace of his thrusts, the air quickly filling with the sounds of your bodies colliding, heated breathing, and unhinged gasps. The ecstasy was blinding you, torturing you, consuming you, your body reduced to nothing more than a means to his pleasurable end. And yours as well.

"Oh... my love..." Halbrand uttered, his voice beginning to rise as his orgasm approached. He started to slam into you harder than before, your screams becoming whimpers as you were overwhelmed by the sensations he was giving you. Soon your own climax began to build, that delicious climb to the peak of euphoria. You met your love at the top, your voices tangling sonically for what felt like eternity as wave after wave rolled over you both. Once completely sated, drenched in sweat, Halbrand removed himself from you, and the two of you clasped at each other desperately, your mouths clashing, kissing as if it was your only means of survival.

You pulled away slightly from your love, resting your forehead on his, breathing against his lips. "I think... I might... sleep for... an age... after that..." you were panting, barely able to get the words out. Halbrand laughed, his voice still filled with lust. "I am not waiting... an entire age... to do that again." His tongue grazed your lips at his words, and you caught it, kissing him once more. When you finally released him, you fell to the ground, your eyelids heavier than stone. The smoke from the fires nearby stung your nostrils, but it thankfully did not keep you awake.

Suddenly, your eyes went wide. Expecting it to still be night time, you were surprised to see the the sun at its highest point in the sky. Sleep had come and left as quick as an intrusive thought. Sitting upright, you searched your field of vision for Halbrand as he was not by your side. It was then your ears awoke, as you heard his cries upon the wind. You turned and rose to your feet, spying Halbrand not twenty feet away, sobbing uncontrollably. For a moment you had wondered why he might be convulsing like this, but you didn't have to wonder long, for the sight all around you was impossible to ignore.

In every direction lay the ruins of the village, all buildings burned down to their stone foundations. The dead lined the roads every few feet, bodies twisted, mutilated, severed, and blackened by powerful forces. You turned back to Halbrand then and it hit you as his eyes finally found your own. Your darkness had consumed you both, as you had consumed the village, its remains now as black as both your souls. You didn't know if your tears hit the ground before your body did, as you collapsed, the grief overcoming you.

What had you done?

Tagging: @starlady66 @denzit @chimeracuddles @restless-tides @hikarielizabethbloom @coraleethroughthelookingglass @anemarie @mordorgp @michon-ne @vaguelyvibin (there are other peeps I want to tag but tumblr is refusing 😭)

#halbrand x reader #sauron x reader #halbrand/sauron x reader #halbrand #sauron #charlie vickers #the rings of power #trop #lord of the rings #lotr

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dead-man-in-the-grave · 1 year

Text

Season Switch (Really Just Means Floating In The Void For Months On End)

(Cross-posted on AO3)

part one | part two | part three | part four (you are here)

It's the end of the world.

All the Hermits' builds, their animals, their farms… the bases and shops and everything that's been done, all the impossibilities that had become possible with some redstone and spite…

Grian's Midnight Alley that he never got to finish the back of…

Scar's Swaggon that would certainly have even more wagons if he'd had the time to build them…

Mumbo's redstone machines that he'd spent hours upon hours tinkering with…

Impulse's factory that was almost completely empty on the inside…

Pearl's own tower, and her upside-down animals, and Padllama Co….

The Boatem Pole.

It was all gone, and it was all her fault.

She couldn't even reign in her powers for one whole season.

Could she get any more useless?

And even though she ruined their world, their hard work, their home… no one is mad at her.

No one has yelled. No one has glared. No one has disconnected her tethering cable and allowed her to drift off into the Void.

No one is mad, and Pearl doesn't understand.

She is the daughter of the Moon. She is a demigod. She's supposed to be better than this.

And yet, the Moon still fell from the sky.

She still failed.

…

Pearl wishes they would untether her; let her drift away, never to be seen again.

It'd be better that way.

Scar belts out the lyrics to Wellerman as loud as he can, clapping to the beat as he does. Mumbo and Impulse have joined in on his shenanigans, Mumbo hesitantly – almost shyly – and Impulse with reckless abandon. Grian rolls his eyes, but fails to hide his fond grin.

Pearl, though… hm.

Pearl seems bothered. Her knees are tucked up to her face, arms wrapped around her legs, and wings obscuring as much of her as they can. She's been like that ever since they jumped into the Void.

Scar knows the others have noticed, based on the worried looks they keep sending her, and they've also tried to snap her out of it. Nothing has worked so far, though.

The last lines of the song fade out, echoing out into the empty expanse around them.

It's quiet for a moment. A ringing makes itself known in Scar's ears.

"Are you actually done this time, or are you gonna start singing Drunken Sailor again?" Grian asks, arms folded over his chest, still smiling fondly. Scar laughs in turn.

"I could sing A Whole New World instead?"

"The last time you sung A Whole New World you dropped us both in the Boatem Hole."

"And what a fun time it was," Scar sighs wistfully.

He doesn't miss that, just on the edge of his vision, Pearl curls up tighter, tensing up.

But why?

She doesn't have reason to be tense at the mention of the Boatem Hole, at least, Scar didn't think so. Maybe something had happened near the end of the season relating to it…?

…

Wait.

The moon crashing into the server! That's why she's upset! She's a moon demigod, isn't she? She must think that the moon crashed because of her powers!

…Well, Scar has no evidence that it didn't. But in the event that it was her powers that had done it, he was sure it wasn't intentional, let alone malicious. It was obvious how guilty she felt from her disposition alone.

Scar decided he wouldn't let her feel guilty all on her own.

He just needed to figure out how to help…

Grian is worried about Pearl.

She's been… distant, lately.

Not physically distant, not at all - their tethering cables keep them connected even as they float through the endless darkness that is the Void - but emotionally distant.

Even when Scar went through what must've been his hundredth time singing one of the two sea shanties he knows, she didn't smile, or grimace, or emote at all. It was as though she turned into a brick wall.

Something is wrong.

Grian had tried talking to her. A few times, actually. The only result was her closing off more.

Does she still think that she's at fault? He thought they'd drilled it into her head that none of them blamed her for the whole moon thing. Maybe she's worried about what the other Hermits would think?

Grian shifts his wings, inadvertently pulling the sleeping forms of Scar and Mumbo closer, as they're using the feathery appendages as makeshift blankets. Impulse is also asleep on Scar's other side. And on the other side of Mumbo…

Pearl is curled into the same ball she has been for the past two weeks. Grian thinks she might also be asleep, but then again, the tense, coiled position her body is in would indicate otherwise.

Grian wants nothing more than to pull her out of the shell she's encased herself in, but she's been putting up one hell of a fight.

A sigh escapes Grian, and he wishes – not for the first time – that he could sleep while out in the Void. Something about his Watcher side absorbing energy from the endless expanse of nothing dashes any chance of him getting any shut-eye.

In contrast, the others are rarely fully conscious. Mumbo and Impulse have been asleep practically the whole time they've been out here, and Scar has been awake only about half the time.

And Pearl… well, she's barely interacted with anyone aside from a few nods and the occasional murmur, so Grian's not entirely sure how often she's slept.

Grian licks his dry, chapped lips, and swallows down the painful lump that had grown in his throat.

"Hey, Pearl?"

At the sound of his voice, she only ducks her head down impossibly farther. Every muscle he can see is tense. She says nothing back.

"...Nevermind."

Grian closes his eyes, and lets his mind wander.

Pearl lifts her head from her knees, stretching her sore muscles for what must have been the first time in days. Grian's eyes are closed, his head is tipped back in a facsimile of sleep. She knows he can't sleep out here, the Watcher in his blood wouldn't allow it.

He looks peaceful, she can't help but think, with (his friends? partners?) Mumbo and Scar wrapped in his multi-colour wings, drifting in the endless nothing.

She wonders, passingly, why he'd called out to her. What had he been going to say?

Was he finally going to get mad at her? Finally, was she going to be untethered from Mumbo and Impulse, allowed to float away like the garbage she's sure she is? Or would he have tried to lie, say that no one blamed her for her own mistake? Left her to wonder when the other shoe would drop?

Well, it's not like it matters, anyway.

She resolutely ignores the stinging behind her eyes. It doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter.

She repeats it like a mantra.

It doesn't matter it doesn't matter it doesn't matter.

She doesn't matter.

Pearl closes her eyes and feigns sleep, hoping that it would claim her soon.

She knew it wouldn't.

The Void is pretty boring, if Impulse is honest.

There's nothing to do but talk to the others and sleep, and sleeping all the time was getting dull.

There wasn't even any redstone for him to tinker with! How's he supposed to keep his hands occupied?

Mumbo seems to be feeling the lack of redstone just as much as himself, based on the way he's always wringing his hands together and looking stressed. Impulse has to catch himself from doing the same thing absentmindedly.

The only real source of entertainment is watching Mumbo and Grian blush and stutter whenever Scar decides to tell them they're cute completely unprompted. And even then, that's only when everyone is awake at the same time.

Impulse can't help feeling like a fourth wheel whenever that happens, though. The three of them are very cute together, of course, but when they all get caught up in their own little world together, Impulse ends up on his own.

Well, not completely on his own. There is Pearl.

He glances over at her, and like usual, she's got her head tucked against her knees, face hidden from view.

So, in other words, he's basically completely on his own.

He turns his attention to the three lovebirds and finds them, predictably, curled up together.

Grian's wings are wrapped around the other two, and he has one hand in Mumbo's hair. Mumbo himself is out cold, drooling a bit on the inside of his helmet where it rests on Grian's shoulder, and Scar is resting his folded arms on Grian's stomach as he blathers on about something inconsequential. He's kicking his legs back and forth in the air the way those high school girls in movies do.

They're good for each other.

Impulse shuts his eyes, and hopes that they'll be out of the Void soon.

"Um, guys?" Mumbo speaks up, staring off into the distance with furrowed brows. "I think I see something…"

There's a speck of… something, way off in the Void. Barely noticeable, but it was strange to see much of anything out here, so Mumbo had latched onto it, squinting and turning his head in an attempt to make sense of… whatever it was.

"What? Where?" Grian asks head swivelling around to try and spot it.

Mumbo points a finger between Scar and Impulse, who both turn and look in that direction as well. He even sees Pearl look up from the corner of his vision.

All five of them stare into the Void, searching for the thing – that looks somewhat like a star, now that Mumbo thinks about it.

It's green, or maybe blue? It's hard to tell, with how small it is, but it glitters and sparkles in the blackness like a lone star in the night sky.

"Well, what're we waiting for?" Scar pipes up. His wings sprout from his back, and he flaps them a few times. "We'll never know what it is if we don't get closer!" He flips around and starts flying toward the sparkle, pulling the rest of them along with him.

Mumbo catches Grian rolling his eyes before flying up next to Scar and pulling some of their weight himself.

As they fly closer, the sparkle gets bigger, and bigger, and bigger until Mumbo can clearly see green grass and trees, grey stone, and blue water and skies inside of it. Because it's not just a random sparkle…

It's a portal.

It's a portal back to the overworld!

The others also seem to realise what it is, because Impulse is grinning from ear to ear and Grian and Scar are flying them all at a breakneck pace directly at the portal.

Pearl, when he looks, has finally uncurled from her ball. She looks to be in shock, eyes not quite seeing.

At least she's not curled up like she was before.

Scar and Grian shoot through the portal, the rest of them careening through after them.

Gravity takes hold the moment they're out of the Void, the combined weight of Mumbo, Impulse, and Pearl weighing down the two fliers too much to stay airborne.

Boatem falls into a heap of bodies and wings and tethering cords onto the stone ground.

Mumbo ends up landing on top of Grian and Impulse, Pearl having landed on top of him, and Scar laying face down a short distance away. The space suits seemed to save them from most of the fall damage, but the now-unfamiliar weight of gravity made it hard to move.

"M-Mumbo…! I c- I can't breathe!" Grian wheezes somewhere beneath him. Mumbo gathers all the strength he can and rolls off Grian, making Pearl topple off him in the process.

They all lay there for a moment, reacclimating to the force of gravity.

Scar, still face-down, starts to giggle, and it doesn't take long for the rest of them to join in.

Even Pearl, who's been out of it since they entered the Void, lets out a wet chuckle or two.

Mumbo can't help but think they'll all be okay.

Grian is the first to stand. He disconnects the cords tethering him to Scar and himself, and then removes his helmet.

Impulse is next, cracking his back as he stands, and Mumbo follows suit.

"Uhm, guys? I don't think I can stand on my own," Scar says from where he's managed to roll onto his back and get his helmet off. His wings have disappeared and he's sprawled out on the stone in a way that just can't be comfortable.

Impulse, his helmet now removed as well, pulls Scar to his feet and allows himself to be used as support.

Mumbo detaches his own helmet from the rest of his spacesuit, and is instantly hit with what must be the freshest air he's breathed in forever. The way the spacesuits recycled air made it livable long-term, but it got stale fast.

He vows to never take fresh air for granted again.

"Wonderful of you guys to join us," a new, but familiar voice butts in.

Mumbo turns, and just a little ways up the stone hill is Xisuma. He's got his admin control panel open in front of him and is typing almost frantically. There are seven different portals open around him, just like the one he and the rest of Boatem had come through.

There are also several other hermits wandering about. Zedaph is pacing around and writing things on a clipboard (where he got that, Mumbo doesn't know), Ren, Doc, Keralis, and Iskall have begun deforesting the nearby birch forest, and Beef, Stress, and False are mining the exposed coal and copper from the stone hillside.

"You're the first ones to come through a portal," Xisuma says, "So at least I know that will work for everyone else as well."

As though on cue, Gem steps through one of the open portals, stumbling slightly, most likely unused to the much more powerful gravity here than on Season Eight.

"It's taking quite a bit out of me to generate the server, keep it stable, and keep all these portals open, though," X says, condensation fogging up his visor. "I'm not sure how much longer I can keep it up."

"I can help," Grian, who had at some point made his way to Mumbo's side, pipes up. He makes his way over to X and his admin panel. "I've been an admin for three servers before, I know what I'm doing." Xisuma nods in thanks.

And that is the moment when Mumbo completely loses track of what's happening.

X slides the panel over to Grian, who, instead of typing like X had, he sticks his hands directly into it. The panel changes from glowing Xisuma's signature green to a purple similar to that of a nether portal.

X immediately slumps like the weight of the world was just lifted off his back – which is basically exactly what just happened, actually – and Grian's eyes start glowing the same purple as the panel.

"Who are we missing?" Grian eyes flitting back and forth, but looking at nothing.

Weird.

"Tango, Cleo, Joe, Wels, Cub, and Jevin. Everyone else is here already."

"Alright then, here we go…" The panel glows brighter than before. It hurts Mumbo's eyes, but he can't seem to look away.

And then, there's code on the panel, moving so fast Mumbo couldn't ever hope to read any of it, let alone understand it.

"Holy moly," Scar says, and Mumbo can't help but agree. Holy moly, indeed.

All at once, there are figures falling out of the portals. Every missing hermit Xisuma had mentioned were now there, in heaps on the ground.

"That's everyone, right?" Grian asks, sweat building on his brow. X, who'd been staring wide-eyed, snapped out of his stupor and nodded.

"That's everyone."

Grian rips his hands out of the admin panel, and it turns back to it's normal green and closes. His eyes stop glowing as well.

It's quiet.

"I think I'm gonna pass out now."

Xisuma manages to catch Grian before he hits the stone ground.

Grian knocks on the door of Pearl's starter base, wringing his hands together nervously.

It had been three days since they'd arrived in Season 9, or so he was told. He'd been unconscious the whole time, recovering from the huge amount of energy he spent pulling hermits through portals and helping Xisuma keep the server stable.

Y'know, the typical stuff that happens at the beginning of a season.

The door opens to reveal Pearl, bags under her eyes and hair clearly unbrushed under her jacket's hood.

"Oh," she says, clearly not expecting to see him, "hi, Grian."

"Hey, Pearl. Can we talk?"

"I-" Her eyes flit back and forth, never landing anywhere for more than a tick, and never meeting his gaze.

She's looking for an excuse, he realises.

"Pearl," Grian says, desperate, "please."

She huffs, and continues to not meet his eye, but she opens the door wide enough for him to enter.

He follows her inside, and she leads him to an oak table set under an azalea plant with two oak chairs to match. Grian's head is on a swivel taking in every little detail of her base. The floors are spruce and stone bricks topped off with a moss carpet, the walls are sandstone, terracotta, and jungle and birch wood, and the ceiling is made of oak and warped wood.

It's made of so many different woods and stones that it should clash, but Pearl somehow found a way to make it work.

Pearl sits down at the table, and Grian takes the remaining chair.

Neither of them speak.

"So…" Grian says after a while.

"So," Pearl repeats, "what did you… want to talk about?"

"I think you know."

She pulls her legs up onto her chair, pulling her knees close to her chest and obscuring half her face. It's reminiscent of how she was while they were in the Void.

She's closing off.

"And if I do…?"

Grian ponders his next words carefully.

"Well," he licks his lips. His mouth is dry. He fixes his eyes onto the table as he begins to speak. "If you did know… I'd say that it wasn't your fault, even if you think it is. And- and no one blames you, because the season would've ended eventually anyway. And yeah, maybe it was your powers that did it, but you can't be sure! There are a load of other factors that you had no part in! And… nobody could have stopped it."

He hears a small sniffle and a shaky exhale, and Grian looks up at Pearl to find her on the verge of tears.

His heart tightens in his chest.

"Oh, Pearl…" Grian stands from his chair and wraps his arms around her neck. Pearl leans her full weight into him without hesitation. He feels her arms wrap around his back and clutch at his sweater, and she buries her face in his shoulder.

She lets out a broken wail, muffled by the sweater. Grian gently pulls off her hood and runs his fingers through her hair. There's a wet patch forming on his shoulder.

Grian's not sure how long they stay like that. He eventually devolves into braiding Pearl's hair while she sniffles and cries out the last of her tears.

"...I got snot on your sweater…" She pulls away from the hug, seemingly to inspect the damage, but Grian waves her off.

"It'll wash out."

Pearl looks like she wants to protest, but lets it go. She doesn't say anything more, but seems to have something on her mind still. Grian stays quiet, letting her sort out her thoughts.

Finally, she speaks.

"You're sure no one's mad?"

"Positive."

"You promise?" She says. She leans forward. Grian can see the desperation in her eyes.

He takes her hands in his own, and gives a light squeeze. She squeezes back, and Grian knocks their foreheads together.

"I promise."

#hermitcraft s9 #hermitcraft #hermitshipping #hermitcraft fanfic #mumbo jumbo #grian #goodtimeswithscar #gtwscar #gtws #pearlescentmoon #impulsesv #xisumavoid #rain writes #rain speaks

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dragonnwriter · 1 year

Text

Inviolable Bindings

AemondxAegonxFemOC

All Chapters Here!

Chapter 3

There was not a hint of surprise on his face when he made eye contact with her, his one eye seemed to burn through her own. His sharp Valyrian features were morphed into an unfriendly and unwelcoming expression.

“Hm.” The quiet noise came from deep within the man’s chest, “You certainly do look like a Targaryen. Although I hear that they breed the Valyrian features into women over there in your slave-ridden whore houses.”

Viserra was taken aback by the seemingly malicious intent of his comment. The hospitality that had been given by the others was not going to be reciprocated by this man.

“Ah, are you familiar with the slave-ridden whore houses in which you say I am from?” Viserra taunted back, watching as his facial expression remained unchanged but his jaw had suddenly tensed.

“I am well educated in many subjects…. But I do not have a taste for depravity,” he spat, his words were sharp and direct.

It was Viserra’s turn to respond with a hum. Choosing her next words carefully, she continued to hold the tension filled gaze, “Speak plainly. I had no intention of throwing insults with anyone tonight.”

The words he spoke next were filled with accusation, “I know my grandsire sent for you because of your dragon. He seems to not have any concerns about inviting you here with such impeccable timing of the King’s health. You are the offspring of an exiled Targaryen who had previously made a claim for the throne with his last visit to this city.”

Viserra rolled her eyes, she had forgotten that her father had once come to King’s Landing many years ago with that intent. However, the thought that she was here to try and do the same was absurd.

A slight chuckle left her lips and she shook her head, “If you think I am here to take the throne, you are mistaken and might also be a little mad. I have no desire for ruling or power such as that.”

“Doesn’t everyone, if only just a little?”

“No,” she answered quickly, “I am quite content doing as I please without that many expectations or responsibilities.”

The small adjustment he made in his face showed curiosity at her response, “Then what are your intentions here? Answer wisely, you are being closely watched by those who are not easily influenced or taken advantage of.”

Viserra thought for a moment before answering, mildly irritated by this interrogation, “Aemond, that is your name, is it not?”

“Prince Aemond.” The response was sharp.

“My apologies…My Prince. You seem like you know much more than initially letting on. You know who I am, who my family is, and where I come from. You must also know that I am not simply someone from the Free Cities with Valyrian bred traits because I also came with a dragon. I have spent many years with my father and grandmother being the only ones connecting me to my Targaryen history and it pleased me greatly to be invited here to meet others who share my blood. I can assure you that I have no ill intent in being here,” she stated, hoping honesty would start to break down the tension that suffocated the room.

Aemond looked at her, pondering her response as he tapped his fingers on the book in front of him. “Have you questioned why the Lord Hand summoned you here, requesting your support as a dragon rider?”

“I have heard whispers,” she stated, knowing her next words would also need to be chosen carefully, “I believe the display of hostility I witnessed at dinner confirmed this house is at war with itself. You have mentioned the King’s health as well. If I were to make a wild assumption, I would say that the House of the Dragon is not going to agree upon its current line of succession.”

There were a few moments of silence in the room while both parties ruminated on the words spoken.

“I know why I have been summoned here. Sometime on the morrow, I would like to speak with the King on this matter. It would be my desire to have clear expectations and duties laid out while I am here.” Her demand seemed to make Aemond’s eye twitch while his mind worked to form a response.

Taking in a deep breath, he found his next words in a hushed tone, “That will not be possible. The King is not in a state to hold conversations or make decisions regarding your duties.”

That small bit of information was the missing piece that brought the whole puzzle together. Starting with the King’s absence at dinner, it would make sense that he couldn’t attend. She also thought back to the Hand being the one to greet her upon arrival and the one who seemed to have arranged all of her accommodations. Then she remembered the surprised and questioning faces of those who saw her in the dining hall doorway earlier. All of the events of the night were starting to come together and she realized that her summoning was a very calculated move.

“The King did not send for me.”

The silence that was held between the two was full of unsaid confirmation. She had been brought to King’s Landing to aid in the usurpation of the King’s chosen heir. The idea that there was a division in who should rule after the King’s passing was now more than just rumors and whispers. There had been significant planning and preparation, gathering of power and support for when the time came to pass.

Viserra shook her head slightly and closed her eyes for a moment. She had walked into something that was much more complicated and dangerous than she had realized. The over the top hospitality and kindness she had experienced so far made sense. Those who had wished for her support would make sure to befriend her and treat her with the utmost respect.

“Now you understand what is to be expected of you.” The suggestion in Aemond’s voice that she was there to serve and obey struck a sudden nerve.

Both of her eyes narrowed as she stared daggers into his one, “My apologies but I do not think you have authority over me and where my loyalties lie. In fact, this whole conversation has treasonous implications. You will not hear me declare on this matter at the moment. I will need time to think on it.”

All of this seemed like some kind of trap. Viserra did not trust easily to begin with and now she felt as if the castle was nothing more than a pit of vipers. Aemond placed his book on the side table and stood up before her. She took in his height and sharp features staring coldly down to her. If the interaction had been different, she might have thought him handsome. Instead, his hovering raised the hair on the back of her neck and had all of her senses heightened.

“Watch yourself carefully, girl. You do not have the slightest idea of what you are now involved in.” The warning was clear and Aemond’s attempt at using his height for intimidation only irritated her further.

“I am more than capable of managing myself and making decisions on who and what to be involved with. You may have heard things about me, but you know nothing about who I truly am. There is more value to me than just being a dragon rider and it would be wise of you to not make enemies with me from the start,” Viserra hissed her response quietly and took a step towards him.

Aemond scoffed at her response, the corners of his lips curling upward. “I did not say I was trying to make enemies with you. You may be used to others respecting or fearing you because of your dragon, but here we all have that as common ground. You will be seen as another number on the back of a dragon if we are to go to war, nothing more.”

It was Viserra’s turn to scoff at his words. His response made her think he had not heard much about her at all, otherwise he would know that she was a skilled swordswoman and had experience in actual combat. “And who is to judge me for such usefulness?” Her tone was mocking and filled with disdain. This man sure did not lack any audacity.

There was another tension filled moment of silence. Aemond looked down at her hand still resting on the outline of her dagger. “Meet me in the training yard at dawn.”

Before Viserra could formulate a response to his request, he walked past her, bumping into her shoulder with his arm. The heat in her face had been building for the last few moments. Whatever vendetta this man had with her, she was unsure the root cause of it. She stood in the same place processing the whole interaction that had just happened before finally returning to her room.

The short walk back to her chambers wasn’t quite as pleasant as the walk to the library, this time she felt irritated and on edge. Elia had greeted her with a curtsy as she entered her room, but Viserra didn’t pay her much attention. She disarmed herself by the bed, placing her dagger near the pillow and then stepped towards the wardrobe.

She let Elia untie her dress and help it off of her body, quickly making her way back to the bed.

“A night dress, Lady Viserra?” Elia asked as she scurried after her.

“No, I do not wish to tangle myself in fabric during the night,” Viserra replied as she pulled the large blanket and furs down on the bed.

She watched as Elia nodded, a blush spreading across her cheeks. She had never liked sleeping in night clothes, feeling suffocated and tangled upon waking. Her preference was to be buried in blankets and furs, like the bed was her own dragon’s nest.

“I am to meet one of the princes tomorrow in the training yard at dawn.”Will you make sure I have something small to eat in the morning and that I am awake before the sun rises?”

Again Elia only nodded. “As you wish.” Waiting for her dismissal at the end of the bed, Viserra had to smile at her timidness.

“You may go to bed as well, Elia. I will see you in the morning.”

#aemond x aegon ii x oc #aemond smut #aegon x aemond #aegon ii #house targaryen #house of the dragon aemond #house of dragons #helaena targaryen #game of thrones #slow burn #eventual smut #fanfiction #ao3 stuff #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond x oc

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wood-white-writer · 1 year

Text

"In the Land of the Blind" [Chapter VI]

"In the Land of the Blind, the One-Eyed Man is King"

Pairing: Silco x Doctor Toxicologist!Reader

Summary: You're called for the escort agencies on business

TW: Depictions of violence and assault

Read the AO3 version here | > Chapter VII

It’s not often you’re summoned for work outside of your establishment, but times are tough, and you have to be flexible to meet ends meet. Babette is the one who summoned you over the phone, frantically explaining that one of her workers had been brutally assaulted by a client and left with serious wounds.

You’ve known Babette for a long time, even since before you heard she had taken on the mantle of the previous Madame. Everyone in this district of the Undercity knows who she is, both as a businesswoman and an escort. You wouldn’t call yourself closely acquainted with her, but for what it was worth, she was always kind to you as a kid whenever she came by the clinic for purchases.

“I can tell you’re gonna be smart like your old man,” she’d tell you and pinch your cheek like a doting grandmother. “If you work hard, you’ll be even smarter.”

You haven’t been in much contact with her since back in the days, but she knows the kind of services you provide. Now, with no one else to turn to, she’s come to you for aid, her desperate voice reverberating through the silence of your lab. Despite your reluctance to venture outside the safety of your clinic at this hour in the night when danger runs rampant in the shadows, you agree to meet up at the brothel.

Us trenchers look out for each other.

Donning your coat and packing your equipment in a bag, you head outside and weigh each step as though it might be your last. The streets down to the Red Light District are uneventful as you trudge through, your head kept low in an effort to make yourself as subtle as you can. You pass the occasional drunkard or shimmer addict on your way, but few of them pay you any mind. The ones that do are quick to shift their attention elsewhere.

When you finally get to Babette’s place, you give the backdoor a few hard knocks. The peephole opens, and an eye stares back at you with sharp scrutiny.

“I was requested by the Madame.”

The guard gives you a suspicious look-over before relenting and opening the door. You’re acquainted with the corridor that’s presented ahead. A long line of rooms upon rooms, where all secrets are spilled, and pleasure rings through the walls with voluminous excitement. This isn’t the first time you’ve been here on business, and it won’t be the last.

Escorts, while usually shielded under the Madame’s protection, are never completely safe once their vulnerability rests at the hands of their clients. It’s a well-known rule that if word gets out that a trencher has been found abusing a worker, they become social pariahs and are usually targets for the majority of the underground populations. No one touches the workers with malicious intent. However, if it turns out that a Piltie is a perpetrator, then it makes matters a bit more complicated to deal with.

The brothel is quiet tonight, completely lacking in pleasurable escapades. It serves as an indication that something major has just happened, and that’s where you come in.

In the distance, where the curtains to the Madame’s office hang, you can vaguely make out the sound of muffled weeping accompanied by soft cooing and hushed whispers from figures yet unseen.

You briskly make your way forward, the content of the bag clinking with each step you commit to. The closer you get to the office; the more noises make themselves audible through the shut drapes. They open up before you even reach them, and there stands the red-haired yordle.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here!” she exclaims and quickly grasps your hand, dragging you inside before you can even announce your presence properly. You’re about to ask for information when the subject of this current predicament presents itself on top of the Madame’s loveseat, surrounded by three other courtesans who attempt their best to comfort.

Your eyes widen slightly at her state.

She looks young, almost too young to be working in a place like this. Her hair, a teal color not unlike the edges of clean water, stands disheveled in every direction. Judging by her attire, she’s not a worker, but the ripped front of her blouse suggests someone blatantly ignored that fact.

The girl is crouched over in her seat, face hidden behind the comforts of her hands as she sobs pitifully into them. Whatever her companions have attempted to ease her mood has fallen in vain.

Babette makes her way in front of the girl. “Nellie, honey, the doctor is there.” The instinctual part of you that wishes to correct that statement rests dormant in favor of handling the job. “She’s going to have a look at you.”

The girl – Nellie – shakes her head in a frenzy. “N-No, please don’t. Don’t make me do it!”

You shift your attention back to Babette, a twinge of unbridled anger manifesting in your gaze as you address her. “Who did this?”

One of the female escorts is quick to speak up in the Madame’s stead. “It was one of ‘em bouncers at the Last Drop!” she spouts angrily. “’E wanted to take poor Nellie into a room. ‘Like ‘em young’, ‘e said! Fuckin’ arse! Didn’t listen when we told ‘im she ain’t no worker! She just mans the reception!”

A bouncer under Silco’s employ?

The only male escort in the room is quick to back up his colleague’s statement. “When he didn’t get what he wanted, he fucking punched her in the face twice, and once in the side! His eyes were glowing, so I’d bet he was high on that shimmer shit.”

A bouncer under Silco’s employ and a shimmer addict? … Fuck.

“Is he a regular?” you ask.

The other female worker nods. “His name’s Dex. He comes a couple of days a week, high as a kite on that purple stuff. He makes the workers uncomfortable, but he always pays, and he’s never been physically violent … until now.”

This could easily become a problematic matter, but you’ll cross that bridge once you get there.

With a nod of appreciation to the escorts for their inputs, you gesture for them to move aside so you can assess the victim. Babette is quick to make space for you, and you kneel down in front of Nellie while putting your bag to the side. Her face remains concealed, but you can just make out the blood crusts that have collected themselves at the back of her digits.

“Nellie.”

She doesn’t respond.

“Nellie, I’m a to… I’m a medic, and I need to have a look at you.”

She shakes her head once again. “P-Please …”

“If I don’t, then there’s no guarantee the damage that’s been done can be fixed.”

She stops shaking, and you murmur the only appropriate word you possess in your internal dictionary for something like this: “Please.”

A long-stretched minute or two goes by before the girl reluctantly pries her hands away from her face, granting you a first-row view of what’s been done to her. Although you can easily admit that this is not the worst case you’ve seen, it lands a significant dent in your mind. Vander would’ve never stood for this, and whatever disposition Silco harbors for this kind of abuse remains to be seen

The lower portion of her face has been completely smeared with blood, making it difficult to decipher which section has been injured and which hasn’t. The bridge of her nose has been forced into a painfully skewed angle, most likely broken, with a purple bruise already stretching to her left eye. It can be realigned, but not without trouble.

The upper-right corner of her lip has been split, and you can vaguely make out that two of her upper teeth are missing. Fortunately, sutures aren’t required to heal the lips, but teeth are not within your area of expertise.

“Alright,” you say after the inspection, then gesture to the side of her abdomen. “Please lift up your shirt so I can have a look at the damage.”

Nellie quickly turns to the Madame for guidance.

“It’s alright, dear girl,” Babette says softly and combs some loose hair away from her face. “She’s here to help.”

Taking this as a good sign, Nellie slowly tugs at the bottom of her shirt and lifts it up. The marks are there to indicate someone’s been physical, including a vicious cut that extends a few inches down her side. It’s too early to tell if her ribs have been broken or merely bruised, but your main concern is if any internal bleeding is involved.

“Nellie, when you stand up, do you feel dizzy or nauseous?” you ask as you continue to check the wound.

“A-A little, I guess. But most of it came when he … hit me.”

“Do you have any trouble breathing?”

“No, I breathe just f-fine. It just hurts a little.”

“Are there any other symptoms you want me to know of?”

“N-No, I don’t think so.”

You heave a sigh of relief and get up on your feet. “I can’t tell if the ribs have been broken or bruised, but if it’s any consolation, I don’t think you’re suffering from any internal bleeding.”

“Does she need some kind of surgery? Or treatment?” Babette asks.

You shake your head. “I can provide painkillers and a list of things you should look out for in the next couple of weeks, but ribs usually tend to heal on their own, broken or otherwise. Just be sure to restrict any demanding activities, and you need ice to help with the pain.” You provide the girl the closest thing you can muster to a sympathetic look for what you're about to tell her next. “However, we’ll need to snap your nose back into place.”

Almost immediately, Nellie throws her hand over her face again. “N-No, please, don’t.”

“If we don’t, it’ll stay in that position permanently. I can give you some pills to dull the pain, but it’s best if we do it as soon as possible.” You shift your attention to Babette, hoping to convey the severity of the situation.

She doesn’t look pleased, but she understands what needs to be done.

You open your bag and pull out a bottle of pills to give to the girl. It’s refined from the Noxian Naptaker’s venom, but you’ve managed to significantly ease the side effects and potency, so it’ll help both with the pain and the anxiety. “Here.”

“W-What are they?” she scans the bottle suspiciously.

“They’re painkillers,” you explain. “For the next couple of weeks, you can take up to six pills a day when you feel like you need it. Bear in mind that they’re quick to work, so don’t take too much at a time. If you experience severe side effects, then come to me and I’ll give you something else. Take two of them now, and in the meantime, you can wash your face and we’ll get it all over with.”

“Are- Are they dangerous? Do they have that purple shimmer stuff? Do I turn into those … those monsters?”

“No.”

Again, she turns to Babette, and the Madame gives her a soft nod to signify that things are going to get better.

A part of you wishes that you had the ability to make others feel safe around your intent, but in the end, it doesn’t matter. That’s not your role in this life, nor the next. Making people feel safe provides them with the illusion that things are going to change for the better, and that they will no longer be at risk like this.

That’s not what this kind of life is about.

Babette turns to the other workers; a stern look having conquered her face. “Get her washed and fixed up, then come back here. Make sure she takes that medicine.”

“Yes, Madame!” they all call out in unison, then quickly get the girl on her feet and out of the office. Their combined feet echo through the corridor until the sound of a door slamming in the distance puts a stop to that.

Babette sighs and walks to sit behind her desk, lighting up a cigar that emits a sickeningly sweet scent into the room. She sounds tired. “Every day, the shimmer expansion puts my business and girls at risk. I knew it was only a matter of time before it got ugly.” She glances up at you with a saddened face. “Thank you for coming. Wasn’t sure you would.”

“Don’t stress about it.” You fish out your own pack of cigarettes, only to realize that the lighter was nowhere to be found. She is quick to lend you her own, and you take it with a grateful nod. As soon as the first puff makes its way down to your lungs, you can feel your mind ease up.

Babette takes another puff. “Just tell me how much I owe you for this. I’ll have Miguel drop off the payment tomorrow.”

“Consider it a favor. If I need something for later, I know where to find you.”

A short-lived smile stretches across her wrinkly cheeks. “That’s very kind of you, sweetie. It’s nice to know that some of us still remember that we trenchers have to stick together.” Her cheeks abandon the smile in favor of a somber frown. “You remind me more and more of your father, you know? Always willing to stick up for others. Heh, one of the best men I’ve ever known in my long time down here.”

You say nothing for a while, just continue to smoke in peaceful quiet. The elderly yordle notices with a sympathetic flicker in her eyes, and puts her cigarette out in the ashtray. “I know you’re angry with Vander for what happened, but things are different now without him keeping an eye out for us. It’s become dangerous.”

“The Undercity’s always been dangerous,”

“And Silco’s making a profit of it,” she supplies with a twinge of melancholy reminiscence. “I knew him once, you know?”

You cock your head to her, eyebrows quirked with curiosity. “Silco?”

“Long ago. He, Vander, and Benzo stood each other tight, cut from the same cloth.” She forces out a hollow laugh that’s lacking in terms of genuine happiness. “He even visited this very brothel on his twenty-first birthday, no doubt at the persistence of the other two. He’s always been smart, that boy, but if there’s one thing I’ve seen, it’s that hard times tend to change people, oftentimes for the worse.”

“That’s the nature of humanity,” you agree. You’ve witnessed it time and time again to the point where it fails to astonish you anymore. Men who previously stood renowned for their chivalry and their altruism tend to turn to worse aspects once pushed far enough.

You would know. You changed too .

“He’s always wanted to change things around here for us, but I’m curious about what it’ll cost in the long run. Vander, for all his good intentions, feared the price it might come with. Silco doesn’t.” The yordle shakes her head in resignation. “At any rate, I sincerely hope your clinic’s not at risk with all of this going on?”

“I’m adequate,”

“Good. We’ve already lost enough. Be a dear and don’t make yourself acquainted with those masses.”

You refuse to make any promises.

The workers return shortly after, with a cleaned-up Nellie standing with them. It’s evident by her drowsy stature that her medicine’s kicked in. With all of the workers holding the scared girl down she has half a mind to sprint out for, the bridge is positioned back to place with the snap of your fingers. Surprise, surprise, the girl faints on the spot, and the three escorts quickly escort her limp figure out of there.

You hand Babette a list of symptoms to be on the lookout for. “If anything like this happens again, call me and I’ll come over to check it out.”

“Thank you again, dear,” Babette pats you on the shoulder. “Really, I owe you.”

“Don’t mention it,” your lips quirk. “However, be sure to ban that man from any service in the future.”

She lowers her head, ashamed. “We’ve thought about that, but what happens when an addict gets denied? He could probably make this incident look like a pretty handshake by comparison.”

An amalgamation of anger, umbrage, and hate blurs the filter between your brain and your mouth. It feels weird, that you’ve watched incidents like these a plethora of times without lifting a finger to interfere. This isn’t your responsibility. It’s not your duty to make sure that Silco keeps his business under wraps, you’re just his damn medical supplier.

Then again, anyone who’s ever lived in the Undercity knows of Babette, and everyone knows of the general consensus: “Don’t fuck with the escort agencies.”

The words slip out of you before you can hope to take them back.

“I’ll take care of it,”

Babette blinks in confusion. “What?”

No point going back on it now. Grabbing your equipment and throwing the bag over your shoulder, you turn to the exit. “I’ll pull some strings. He won’t set foot in your establishment again.”

“Hold on!” For her size, the Madame is surprisingly quick on her feet as she runs after you. With a firm hold at the edge of your coat, she tugs you back a step and a half. “Just what are you going to do, huh? March up to Silco, demand that his minion back off?”

You offer a half-assed shrug that neither confirms nor denies that statement.

“That’s- You- You don’t know how that’s going to end!” Her hold on you becomes more desperate. “You know what’s happened to people who try to oppose him! Please, don’t be stupid now, I know you’re a smart girl! You always have been!”

“Madame,” you glance down at her from over the brim of your shoulder, voice maintained at a low tone that’s only befitting of someone with no intention of changing their mind. “Let me handle this without interfering.”

“No, I can’t! He might kill you!”

“He won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Just know this, your life assurance has just been signed. You’re not going to die, even if you fucking try it yourself.”

With a sharp tug on your coat, you free yourself from her grip and exit the brothel.

#silco x reader #arcane #arcane fanfic #arcane x reader #silco/reader #in the land of the blind #arcane lol #silco x oc #fanfiction

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scarletooyoroi · 1 year

Text

Where the pomegranates sing,

The apples clap,

And the Forest remembers.

Deep within this land enriched by vitality of all forms, producing bounties, fostering strength, a residual feeling of home sears within the faithful staff in his hands. Despite being immersed in the scale of history ranging from the call of that unbound flame, to the many hands that carried it some iteration of it with varying degrees of success, how long has it been in that well of consciousness that this very weapon could feel this sensation again.

How the emerald flash of greenery bounced upon the sunlight, how this beloved vitality became the reason that it turns malady and strife in the toll of ashes to welcome such dangers to oblivion itself?

This particular wielder who also has been blessed by the unbound flame of the world seemed to hold a touch more understanding. Despite this form of pseudo sentience being a fading brand of awareness, the blonde warrior held a means of allowing life to flow in the form of will. From times experienced around Inazuman weaponry, against the well kept to the shoddy, to the malicious lined to the equally strong in some fervent faith, blades that found themselves infused with Tatarigami always held that stint of madness that needed to be seared from reality.

Mortal rot left horribly unkempt would lead to pestilence, then what of the divine variety? Lives more deeply entrenched in those echelons of power were a veritable nuclear meltdown upon death depending on their desire.

In short, these ‘realms of authority’ would naturally clash, Teyvat’s and the living coil of that very being. It mattered not if these were born and bred within this very world.

____

Thoma’s current journey within Sumeru has led him deep into the versatile woodlands. A cheery sense of free while actively running, leaping, soaring over high tops, methodically bouncing between sturdy trunks, to flipping along difficult heights where the smallest touch of leniency would lead to a harrowing plummet. Yet, he found joy in scaling through the lands without plenty of rhyme and a focused sect of reason.

The taste of Anemo here was crisp, rivaling that of the lands that hail the very Archon that established dominion upon that part of the seven. A natural guess would be that overflowing flora eagerly give as much as it takes, personalized contentment found in finding a home amidst all the denizens large and small.

So he certainly doesn’t complain, for more fresh oxygen and a stir of divine will means a much brighter burn.

That searing heart (and a good set of directions) would lead him deep into an area within the Lokapala Jungle, cleaved from many of the manmade or animal routes beaten into the earth. A good and steady beat dances within his chest, further amplifying that inspired rhythm of the lands itself. Thoma’s certainty was growing further as he could feel the tempered burn that controls itself through the pole section of Homa, stirs of crimson life radiating in the hum of a tender beat.

There was no better confirmation that he’s on the right track. “A place where it resonated the closest with that heat.. Forming rare varieties of wood that thrives in any flame, amplifying the call of the very heat that’s willed into it.” He softly speaks, recalling clear of the legends spoken in one land, and the sharper, sparse reports found in the House of Deana.

For this ascension, a crucial key would be to dive back to the metaphorical roots, to guide this power back here.

Thus he’d advance onward, becoming a presence that reflects an imposing but respectful nature. Often as he doesn’t enjoy letting his merits be too widely known, gaining the recognition of animal life, to the exuding his will to the land’s very essence itself was important. Just the sight of dendrograna, so similar to electrograna reflects that chief lesson.

The land lives. It needs to learn about him and his intentions, as much as he’s here upon that very journey himself.

Many vines and flora would draw themselves apart upon his--, more particularly, Homa’s arrival, drawing apart as the presence it radiates reflects one of contentment, of that same boundless wisdom and hope that helped carve the dark futures of calamity away despite an element that always seemed to be an ending to forest life. Curious eyes would be drawn in how this particular grotto seems to expand the further he advances, hollowing out into the form of a more open hall compared to anything else.

Part of Thoma couldn’t resist wondering if this inventive measure is more man made or world like.

Within time he’d soon find the location he was intending to discover. Deeper humidity, more fragrant and heavier air, what he comes to discover... Isn’t exactly what he expected. Yet, that in itself hardly matters. What he imagined to be a forest of scarlet initially turns out to look more normalized in some regards, these particular trees holding edges of silver as a more prominent trait compared to anything else. Yet, the undeniable answer rang within his heart, causing its beats to hasten as that same mysterious edged itself into his mind.

"Only an unbound flame can purify this world.’

A voice that seems to draw its breath directly against his chest.

As his eyes sharpen with proper recognition, he advances, giving the firewood staff a flip until its positioned vertically, settled properly within his hand as a familiar ritual would begin anew. There was a distinct understanding of his reasoning for being here, to bring this land one of it’s fashioned children once again. Calamity was afoot, and naturally, understanding of the core and beyond would be key to reach the appropriate heights. No more, no less.

“Homa needs the strength of this place, the home where it was raised to power. Feel the coursing wave of my flames, its understanding in what it means to and not to harm.” Declares the Fixer, settling the spear’s blunt end to the red earth below. That gently radiating eye begins to stir with further life as it gradually awakens from a more controlled slumber, allowing a flowing, aura like shawl of scarlet to erupt from its dual scarlet tips. Even the darker portions of the staff began to glow, gaining a more distinct scarlet tint comparable to the ground below.

Flame began to bloom around the staff’s head as Thoma settles down onto his knees, allowing for his divinity through the Vision to serve as a more appropriate link, to join this very experience as he puts his hands together in a stance prayer while allowing for his eyes to close.

This.. Unbound flame. He felt that it was time to let firsthand experience be his way of learning.

To let the world itself teach.

#| Drabble #more of my lil blog canon if anything #of Thoma adventures in Sumeru #wanted to take advantage of it Homa being sacred wood and in turn #having potential origins of being smithed by Sumerian material

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bellafragolina · 2 years

Note

Unova certainly was… Unusual. It was louder? Maybe. No, not maybe, certainly was. It was brighter and it had less water-ish island-ish landscape that you've grown used to. But, most importantly, there were no Nuclear Power Plants, like, at all. Not that you are complaining thought - at least, you could breath freely without a fear of being killed by an explosion. Or radiation. Ooor Pokémon. Or radioactive wild Pokémon. Anyway, Unova is pretty welcoming place, especially for you, who left their home only at your eighteens with your team, which you were too afraid to use or even show on public. Again, anyway!

There you are, stepping down the stairs as quietly as that possible in all hustle and bustle of the Station, and then the Subway. A lot of people. Like, a loooot of them. A lump forms in your throat, your legs starting to carry you to somewhere more quiet, but your stubbornness keeps you in place, as well as wiggling Pokéballs on your belt, three of them shaking the most. Smiling to yourself, as well swallowing throat lump, you start to move forward. Aaaaand then you just plop onto the bench, rubbing your pulsating temples - Okay, maybe Unova is louder than you were expecting, okay. Yes, okay. You can deal with headache, that's not your first time and it is certainly not your last. You just have to…

-Hey, you!

…sit there and relax for a couple of minutes.

Well, it seems that you wouldn't be relaxing for a while, since upon lifting your head up, you saw some trainer, standing right in front of you, with arms crossed, lips closed and crooked into a smirk. Wow, problems.

-What do you want, baby boy? - You groaned, straightening your back and grabbing one of your Pokéballs, mentally cursing at yourself, trainer…buut mostly at yourself.

-Fight me! I see that you have a team of six, you can't-

-I can't what? - You stood up to your full height, even slightly towering over this trainer's figure. Muscles tensed when ears heard peoples chattering, sweat poured on your forehead from the rising heat, lungs started to burn like they were full of fire - that felt like you've swallowed Antarki. It took you about a minute to finally calm down and start talking properly again. - Can't simply visit a Subway? And what are you gonna do about it, huh? That's right - Nothing! Now, ciao!

At the end, you nearly screamed, after what you simply walked out of Trainer's way, heading to the stairs. You have other things to do, and fighting that person is definitely not one of the-

Suddenly, you felt cold. Like, really, really cold. And then, as suddenly as the cold came, you felt the warmth. Opening your eyes, you could see not only shocked faces of people around, but also that guy's Vaporeon that sprayed you with water, and, what you feared the most - half of your team, all of them outside of their respective Pokéballs.

The warmth on your body became stronger, as you felt happy buzzing from atop of your head, two stubby limbs wrapped around your neck - Your Gellin, desperately clinging to its owner, tried to dry off your clothes, when you've finally decided to turn around and make an eye contact with, no, not the trainer, but Depot Agent. You wouldn't say that his (or her, you might want to visit a doctor) face was somewhat terrified, it was, you don't know, amazement? "Oh-not-again" face? And then, so called face vanished. That was…not a good sign for sure - you need to get out of here, and fast. But first of all, you need to deal with two other team members, both of which are radiating menacing energy towards the crowd.

When you started to speak, directing your attempted words towards red caped Pokémon, a shadow loomed over you, breathing down your neck, like a predator. But there was no fear, no malicious intent, or any signs of violence - only one black whisker touching your cheek, trying it's best to get some attention.

Clank, clank, clank, someone is coming.

Black, as the night itself, Gyarados touched your cheek once more, shoving someone aside with it's tail. Pokémon roared loudly, before taking off into the air, floating around you like a snake. Big snake. The big nuclear snake that probably made someone faint. If not, then that duty was shared between Dramsama, considering her soul-stealing abilities.

-Sama-a-a! - Your Pokémon cried angrily, puffing up her fluff and slowly wagging her tail from side to side. Even though you couldn't see her legs, you could tell that she was rapidly approaching the trainer, no longer so brave, specifically his Vaporeon, now with it's tail between it's legs.

Two figures appeared in the crowd, almost identical, both of them walking to the source of the noise.

-Dra… Dramsama! - Caped beast furiously grabbed eeveelution by it's neck, lifting squeaking thing from the ground and then almost throwing it back onto the ground. She is already growling, her eyes glowing with eerie purple light, ready to use hypnosis, Vaporeon backing up and whimpering. In a haste, you grab her Pokéball, you are throwing it, now, you need to get out of-

-Stop.

Someone's voice, like a crack of thunder, revebrated through the halls and your ears, making blood go cold, making figure freeze. Dramsama, looking at the water Type with disgust for the last time, scuttled over to you, wrapping one of her tail feathers around your shaking hand. Gyarados, squinting his eyes, almost launched himself at the "Ingo and Emmet", as you've heard from the crowd, but with one swift motion, the beast was in his Ultra Ball, again on your belt.

Shaking, you made an eye contact with both of the "Subway Bosses", went pale at the full realisation of the situation, and the only words that left your lips was:

-Dramsama, use Teleport.

And just like that, in a bright flash, you, Gellin and Dramsama vanished. No longer there was three strange Pokémon, no strange trainer - Only baffled crowd, scared to death guy and Vaporeon, intrigued twins. They've never seen or heard about that Pokémon.. They've never seen you! Who.. Who are you?

And while you were still trying to recover from the chaos in a pile of pillows and your other Pokémon around you - plus your purring Duplicat, Astronite trying to braid your hair and Chainite, happily chewing on it's toy, twins were eager to meet you again. And they think that they'll meet you, sooner or later.

You just need to cool down and pack your things up - there is no way you are making yourself look like a coward.

Battle Subway, await! Tandor's Pokémon Trainer is making their appearance!

Whooooooh, I am sorry for any possible mistakes (and for possible little connection to actual Uranium)! It ain’t much but it’s honest work. Hope that you've liked it and have a nice evening/day ^^

I also particularly like how I unconsciously (or not, ehe) made a full team.. I might as well try to make them into a full character!

P.S. - Oh no, now I want to make that into a Trainersona. And you know what? I think I will! When they'll be ready, I'll show them to you! ^^

-Dearly your reader, Victusordovitreus.

BRAVOOOOOOOO SUPER BRAVOOOOOOOOOOOO

This is incredible!! and i'm so excited for your sona!!! the pokemon are soooo coooooll!!!! and i wanna know more!!! give us more!! i love it!!!

this is gonna be so good!!!!!

~Renee

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gojogloomy · 1 year

Text

SERENDIPITY - ch.3

— SYNOPSIS ; Hayakawa Aki was now at the mercy of the very thing he thought he had power over. Will the devil turn the tables on him, or will it show him remorse even after all he’s done?

CW ; more blood, cigarettes, light angst.

WC ; 2.5k

“The Medium”

Reluctant fondness

Even after having your home intruded on, being talked down to and restrained for the past hour - you knew Hayakawa Aki wasn't a bad person.

He tries to act like he is, likes he's mean, malicious and doesn't care for anything that isn't humane nor worth his time. But the truth is no matter what; he will always care somewhat and often times more about others than himself.

So when you lifted his once white undershirt up to try and get a look at the wound, you already predicted Hayakawa's protests.

"Don't touch me, Devil— What are you trying to do?" he roared, clearly feeling upset about the lack of control he has in this situation. Aki didn't like to feel at the mercy of others.

"I'm not trying to hurt you, I promise." you could now tell that the source of all this blood was a slice in his lower abdomen. The tear wasn't deep enough to die or bleed out immediately upon infliction but sharp enough to cause serious damage if left open and not stitched.

Was he really that confident his device would work or was he just refusing to receive help nor be seen vulnerable in front of a "devil"?

"I swear if... if y-you do anything to me I’ll—" he couldn't even get the words out due to the fit of coughing that overtook him straight afterwards.

Aki was making empty threats and he knew it. He was verging death and couldn't move an inch; but he refused to give up. He was sure that you'd use his body for food or to control as a mindless fiend.

"Have I done anything so far to disprove your trust? You may not want me to right now, but I don't want you to die so I'm going to help you."

You knew he wouldn't cooperate easy, and by the time you would have convinced him via word - Hayakawa would've already been limp. Going against his own wishes was the only way.

It was awkward and a little difficult considering your hands were still tightly cuffed and confined, but you pressed both of your palms against the wound then applied pressure, as much as you could whilst trying not to hurt him.

Aki's skin felt ice-cold beneath your fingers and it felt as though his blood was the only thing keeping his body warm.

At this point Aki was too weak to say anything - he could only lie back and trust you. He watched your hands intently, after you removed them - it was as though you took the wound with it.

How was that possible? For his wound to just disperse like it was never there. For the tissue and cells to just repair itself without a trace.

He could already feel majority of his strength returning to him, and that awful heavy weight he felt on his chest causing him to cough persistently, sometimes even blood, was also gone.

The evidence was still there. His clothes remained bloodied, so was the snow around him and even the very hand you used to touch him with was dirtied with his scarlet and yet...

"How did you do that?" Aki was mesmerised by such an ability - he had never witnessed anything like it.

The snow came down from the cerulean sky nonetheless, as though to disguise the bloody scene displayed.

"It's just something I learned," you replied, a little relieved and content now that Hayakawa seemed to not be verging death anymore. His breathing was fine and his face wasn't screwed up in pain any longer.

"Learned? Have you done this before?" he questioned, slowly rising up from beneath the tree. He looked like he'd seen better days, surely.

"Yeah I have, on even worse wounds." you didn't mind answering Aki's persistent questions, you were sure he was perplexed at what just happened and probably you would be too in the opposite situation.

"Hmm," he hummed to himself before reaching into his pocket to grab the pack of cigarettes he stored in there earlier. He figured he deserved one, surely, after failing his job, having his car get snowed in, having to walk with an open wound for over an hour and just barely escaping death by the slither of a hair.

But then again, he didn't escape death all by himself did he? After positioning the cigar nice and stable between his teeth, he flicked his thumb rapidly over the lighter until the bitter scent of smoke and tabasco filled the air.

He glanced over at the devil who saved his life, no, it didn't feel right to call you that anymore. If anything, angel would be more fitting, right?

The face was pursed as though you were thinking and your hands were still tainted with his blood. Aki decided now was about time to cut the awkward silence.

"I don't particularly like feeling indebted to people." he spoke, exhaling the smoke out from his lungs - his very lungs that almost failed on him a few minutes ago along with the rest of his organs.

You couldn't help but notice that Hayakawa said 'people'? Does that mean...

"However, I can't deny that you did save my life and proved me wrong. So tell me now - what do you want?"

Aki has never considered himself a generous person. Everyday he makes selfish decisions and constantly puts himself first.

But he'd just be plain ignorant if he didn't acknowledge that you've been unnecessarily kind to him, even after he's done and said so much to you. He figured you deserved some credit.

And even now after all this time, you still stood as timid and awkward as about an hour ago when he just met you.

"Well I don't usually ask for things... I just helped you because I wanted to not 'cuz I expected anything in return but..."

"...But?" he picked up - mimicking your tone as he said the word and taking another drag from his cigarette. You were struggling to maintain eye-contact with him, just what were you about to ask?

After a deep courageous inhale, you spoke again, "Well I know you probably think it's stupid but seriously, I'm still worried sick about my bunny. I don't want her to starve to death and—"

Aki raised his hand as though to say 'Alright, i've heard enough.' That made you anxious, as though he was refusing you.

But without any words he unclipped the sachet filled with carrots from your waist and attached it to his own.

"I'll find her, okay? I'm sure that if she's that hungry, she'll come running from the smell of the carrots. Plus, I have a keen sense of smell myself." he grinned. It seemed Hayakawa was actually quite determined.

You almost snorted a little before saying "Yeah? well not if your nose is filled with the smell of your cigarettes."

He chuckled a little before tossing out the cigarette, crushing it beneath his black shoe on the snow. It was about finished anyways.

Before Aki left however, he had to take precautions.

He pulled you gently by the wrists off of the main snowy road and more over to the side where many trees stood, almost beside the tree he was leaned up against.

He found an extremely thin oak tree and decided here was a good spot.

"What are you doing, Hayakawa?" you asked, watching him unclasp one handcuff off of your hand.

"Just making sure." he answered, heavily ambiguously. Though you've been pretty obedient, Aki is a thorough man.

"There." he sighed, pulling back from you.

"Did you really have to cuff me to the tree?" the audacity of this man, after you saved his life.

“Yeah, I did. I'll be back soon don't worry," but before Aki was about to turn on his heel to leave, he noticed something that made his heart stop for a split second.

...

"Why are you bleeding?" he was surprised he hadn't noticed sooner, that now a scarlet omitting from your own body was staining your clothes. He should've noticed since he experienced it himself.

That slight scrunch of the face as every movement becomes painful, that laboured breathing, poor posture.

You didn't seem too concerned at all by this though.

"When I healed you earlier, I didn't exactly make the cut disappear," you started. "I transferred it to me, so—"

"Why the fuck would you do that??" Aki almost seemed angry? But you couldn't understand why he was upset with you for this. What changed? You still healed him either way.

He could just about smell the confusion on your face and spoke again "Now you're bleeding out. How are you going to stop it?"

It wasn't that Aki was actually angry at you. But he was angry at himself now because he was beginning to feel guilty. You who has treated him so kindly never deserved to take on such a wound, especially since it rightfully belonged to him first.

You just sighed, a little lethargic "Hayakwa. I'll be fine. I'm a devil, remember?"

Aki knew this was an indirect reminder to how he treated you earlier with a lack of sympathy. And he honestly does regret it— especially after knowing you aren't anything evil at all.

But he's been killing devils for so long and has never encountered anything like this before. He felt as though he was within his rights to be suspicious. Nonetheless though, he was wrong and it was only right to make it up to you.

"Then..." he couldn't take his eyes off of the dark patch in your clothes. "Do you need some of my blood to heal yourself?"

The fact he was willing to go to such lengths made you crack a genuine heartfelt smile. Perhaps this is what they call 'character development'.

"I'll be fine, I promise. All I just need is sleep and i'll be good. The cut will fix itself,"

Though you didn't end up needing his help after all, the sentiment was very much appreciated. You felt warm, even in the snow, knowing that Hayakawa was beginning to trust you even just a little now.

You sat yourself down beside your cuffed tree, already beginning to feel your eyelids weigh heavy.

"Come on, don't worry about me. Just find Usagi for me, yeah?" you yawned, a little sleepy yet trying to relieve him just a little.

He sighed before finally speaking up again, "Yeah, will do."

This time, he meant it as a promise.

After seeing Aki's figure slowly disappear off into the foggy distance of the snow, you slowly felt yourself drifting off into deep slumber.

Just how long had the two of you been out here in the snow for? you figured it's been around two hours by now and still barely any progress.

Due to all the circumstances, you almost forgot why you were even out here in the first place. Did perhaps Aki forget too?

After becoming so acquainted and personal with each other, just what is the point of this journey anymore?

...

Something felt wet.

You were slightly used to feeling a bit wet here and there from the particles of snow melting on your body every now and then but this feeling was extremely different.

Like rough, coarse, moist sandpaper pushing against your cheek.

When you opened your eyes, still heavy from sleeping, you realised it was your beloved bunny Usagi licking your cheek and Hayakawa stood aside looking quite proud of himself.

"Usagi!!" you exclaimed, voice higher than ever. You couldn't believe your adorable grey and white floppy-eared bunny was back.

Even though Usagi wasn't a complete white bunny, you still figured she'd be hard to spot within the snow. Apparently not a problem for Hayakawa who found her in less than under 30 minutes.

"I was worried my wound killed you for a second back there," he sighed, witty as ever.

You smiled at him and shook your head, standing up from beneath the tree. "It'll take a lot more than that to kill me, Hayakawa."

"Yeah, apparently so," Aki agreed, watching as the small bunny hopped around your feet in circles excitedly.

"Is your wound okay now then?" he still couldn't waver his eyes from the dark patch, but it hadn't appeared to grow any bigger from the last time he saw it.

"Yeah I'm fine. It's already stopped bleeding." you breathed, feeling as good as new.

"Think I can part ways with this tree now then?" you jested, shaking your wrists for emphasis.

"Not sure, I'll have to think it over first." he replied, voice as low and serious as ever whilst turning a small silver key within the lock and taking the handcuffs off of you.

You rotated your wrists around, feeling relieved from the lack of metallic weight on them and happy to finally move them without restriction anymore — but why did he take them off completely? You thought he'd only uncuff you from the tree. Does that mean he trusts you now?

"I'm sure your hands will be too full to pull anything anyways," he spoke, bending down to pick up Usagi and placing her in your arms.

"Yeah, you're right." you agreed, reaching over to your satchel he was still wearing and feeding her a carrot. Aki chuckled and continued to trudge forward through the snow, reaching into his pockets for yet another cigarette. You tagged on behind him.

"I'm sure you know this already but..." you paused, anticipating his reaction. Aki turned his head to you, making a 'hm?' noise as he waited for you to continue.

For some reason, it was now out of all times that you've really started noticed how handsome Hayakawa really was. His cheeks were still flushed a tint of red all the while and his hair, still littered with snow, still looked as gorgeous as ever.

His top button to his undershirt was unintentionally undone, probably happened at some point earlier when he was struggling to breathe. And—

"Are you okay?" Aki asked, his cigarette stuffed between his index and middle finger whilst he used the other hand to fan over your face to catch your attention.

"Yeah sorry, just zoned out for a second..." you mumbled, ears beginning to burn with embarrassment. "Anyways, like I was saying, those things are bad for you. I don't like them." you pointed at his cigar, making him chuckle.

"Yeah... I said I'd never smoke one but you know," Hayakawa let a smile slip whilst saying this, clearly fondly reminiscent over his early days of smoking.

Seeing him in such a state, you wished you could always see him smile like that.

"I suppose your healing powers wouldn't work on my lungs, huh?" he chuckled, feeling a little humorous and light from the cigarette.

"I dunno, will you pay me?" you humoured back at him, to which he simply raised an eyebrow at you as if in slight disbelief.

Despite his now playful and lighthearted attitude, Aki's mind was far from happy right now. In fact, he was dealing with an internal dilemma, and he knew he'd have to face you about it soon.

A/N ; ohmagawd, ur free trial of angst has expired ☃️ hopefully u can live in peace now!

(or has it?)

Oh, and here’s part 4

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kodzumie-archived · 3 years

Text

❝FIRST TIME❞

Synopsis; What their first time would be like.

Featuring; Kokichi Oma, Mikan Tsumiki, and Nagito Komaeda x GN! Reader

Warning(s); (N)SFW, loss of virginity, submissive characters, experienced reader, implications of previous sexual abuse (Mikan), and established relationship.

➤ KOKICHI OMA

⤷ Due to his playful and joking demeanor, his first time would be alleviated of the tension it could’ve potentially had, easing him into the moment.

⤷ He’s likely to crack a joke or two. It’s not much but it’s certainly enough for him to feel comfortable amidst such a foreign intimacy.

⤷ Truth be told, he’s nervous; so very nervous and blinded with anxiety. But he’d never tell you that, and if you attempt to gauge the truth you’ll merely be smothered with an array of lies; he’s never going to admit it.

⤷ Despite his inner turmoil and anxieties, his visage appears collected to you. As a liar, he’ll go through hell and back in order to make sure he looks capable of what he’s doing.

⤷ Though his façade surprisingly dissipates once he’s the one being pleasured. As you run your fingers along his body, cascading further until you reach his most sensitive of areas, his expression will contort to that of distress laced with curiosity.

⤷ A curiosity that you indulge in as though you were sipping the delicacy of a mere cocktail; flushing yourself with the remanence of such a sugary drink.

⤷ He’d originally claimed that as the Ultimate Supreme Leader, of course, he’d had sex before!

⤷ And truthfully, you didn’t bother to disprove his claims. After all, you acknowledged that if he didn’t want to admit it, that was fine. Just like it was fine if he was being truthful of having experience.

⤷ But from the way he falls apart under your hypnotic grasp, your fist clasping over his cock and pumping him at a moderate pace, spreading the precum the crown oozed along his shaft, you began to suspect yet another fib from the infamous liar.

⤷ Interestingly enough, he’s sensitive; so very sensitive. Every ghost of touch will leave him gasping and whining feverishly for more; for an abundance of your love and carnal care.

⤷ Kokichi is a vocal individual. He’s never been known for being the quiet type. He’s a bustling radiance of pure, unhindered chaos, and this doesn’t change from within the sheets either.

⤷ Grunts and groans are only uttered from between his lips when he still gives enough of a shit to hide his sounds, biting his bottom lip to suppress his pathetically voiced ecstasy.

⤷ But once you both truly start getting more into it, he begins to lose himself in the pleasure. Ghostly touches turned into hungry—no, starved—grasps and squeezes. Fleeting kisses of delicate desire now suckle of lips and teeth against each other’s skin as you’re both plunged into the unmistakable clutches of lust.

⤷ His grunts melt into moans; the very same moans that bounce against the walls of your shared bedroom and dissolve into breathless pleas; pleads to go faster, harder.

⤷ His front as the Ultimate Supreme Leader is long forgotten as he succumbs to his wants—his needs—shamelessly begging for more; begging for your touches.

⤷ His pride was swallowed long ago, long before you bucked your hips, pushing him closer and closer towards his climax. His sobs, moans, and whines flooding your ears as he practically sang your name as though it were a mantra.

⤷ Whatever dominance he attempted to display had been long-forgotten as he writhed from beneath you, peering up at you with a clouded gaze. Curses of fuck, fuck, fuck as he was driven to the edge, crying out as he came.

⤷ If you thought he was sensitive during your session, then the aftershock of his first shared orgasm had left him seeing stars at every minuscule movement.

⤷ He looked the most fragile you’d ever seen him as he stuttered out a yelp as you assisted him in cleaning up. A blush residing on his cheeks—flushed countenance—as he watched you with a swirl of newfound love in his eyes.

⤷ If you invested further attention to the way his lips contorted into a warm, sincere smile, it’d have proven fatal to your heart; melting your composure as you peered at his gentle expression, one that was reserved solely for you.

➤ MIKAN TSUMIKI

⤷ It’ll take a while for her to engage in such a thing, honestly. She’s incredibly hesitant and overthinks every possibility of how she could ruin the moment, giving you yet another reason why her pitiful self was not worth your time.

⤷ Not to mention that most of her presumptions on sex have been based on trauma involving sexual experiences.

⤷ She’s terrified, not only from how she could possibly upset you with her clumsy antics and inexperience but from the act itself. She’s afraid to be so vulnerable. To be laid bare in front of you was enough to spike her anxieties.

⤷ She trusts you, she swears she does. But she doesn’t trust herself to be so exposed. Her view of herself tainted with insecurity and constant doubt.

⤷ Fear is instilled in her as the haunting thought of being not enough; failing to meet your expectations. She knows she shouldn’t think this, you’ve told her countless times that she’s more than enough for you.

⤷ But the thoughts don’t diminish that easily, a lesson she’s had to painfully bear as each degrading thought pierces through her heart with malicious intent.

⤷ It’s a constant turmoil between wanting to swallow back the bile of self-doubt and insecurity to pursue your mutual wants, but the chains of fear are almost unbreakable. Almost.

⤷ Because one day, what started out as nothing more than a make-out session had resulted in discarded clothing, suckling of skin, and lust-filled gazes.

⤷ Everything was a blurred array of desire and haste. Feverish kisses to muffle needy whines as things progressed so fast.

⤷ She wanted this, she really did. But as your hands began to wander down, familiarizing yourself with her body through playful, teasing squeezes, she couldn’t help the anxiety that resurfaced.

⤷ Would you be satisfied with what she has to offer? Would she be able to please you? What if she hurts you? What if you end up hurting her? But you wouldn’t do that, would you? What if she—

⤷ Her train of thoughts is interrupted by the sound of your voice, tethering her back to reality where your concerned gaze meets her as you ask her if she wants to continue.

⤷ She expected disappointment, she expected even the possibility of anger within your gaze and words. But she found no such thing. Rather, she found worry; concern; genuine care for her wellbeing.

⤷ It wasn’t much, a simple question and the interlocking of eyes. Yet, strangely enough, her hammering heart seemed to calm as her anxious thoughts stilled.

⤷ Perhaps it was the realization that you really cared for her that eased her worries. But regardless, she felt considerably stable than when she did moments prior. Her shaky hands managing to steady themselves as she gripped your shoulders with a timid smile, admitting she’d like to continue.

⤷ You didn’t return to your ministrations for a moment, instead, you peer into her eyes in search of doubt. But once you found none and felt assured that she truly did want this, you pressed your lips against hers for a delicate kiss; whispering an I love you against her.

⤷ Mikan’s heart nearly melted as she smiled, feeling so unbelievably calmed with the most minimal of reassurances. It’s truly one of the millions of reasons she loves you so much; you can ease her worries with such skill she’s convinced you’re the Ultimate Stress Reliever.

⤷ You peppered her body with kisses, following up with a swipe of your tongue and a suckle to mark your claim; the bruises forming scattered bringing a greater flush to her cheeks.

⤷ Her pleas were muffled as she attempted to silence her moans in fear of releasing a sound that you weren’t pleased with.

⤷ But you’re quick to notice what she’s attempting to do and you settle your domineering gaze upon her, the dark glint in your eyes nearly pulling another moan from her, one that she quickly swallowed back. Yet you protested, assuring her that you want to hear her.

⤷ She apologizes, an apology you didn’t allow to be voiced as you bite against her sensitive area, to which her apology was cut off by a yelp.

⤷ Though you eased the bite as you swiped your tongue over the mark, kissing it softly as an unspoken sorry.

⤷ Mikan couldn’t help being so vocal. Every kiss, every suck, every touch, every word muttered forced some sort of sound to spill from her lips. Squeaks, mewls, moans, and even sobs.

⤷ The symphony she provides within the bedroom was one that she assumed she’d be shamed for. Yet you did no such thing. No matter what, you continuously go against the horrors she presumes and shower her in endless bounds of affection.

⤷ Even whispering a sultry you sound so pretty into her ears before brushing your thumb over her clit, drawing out yet another raspy mewl that you claim to adore.

⤷ In the heat of the moment, you smothered her with your praise and care as you made sure she understood the extent to which you loved her; to which you adored her.

⤷ So much so, that she faintly giggles in remembrance of how nervous she was before doing this with you; before indulging in such a lewd act with you.

⤷ But as you’ve always proved to her, any moment shared with you is one to remember; one to cherish.

⤷ And as the two of you approach your oncoming climax together, she smiles through her moans as the bubbling of euphoria erupts within her heart; at that moment, she couldn’t be happier.

➤ NAGITO KOMAEDA

⤷ He’s beyond hesitant; reluctance paints his every move as though he were nothing more than a canvas doused in hues of doubt.

⤷ Despite whether or not he’d been yearning to engage in this sort of intimacy with you, he wouldn’t dare initiate it. His faltering in pursuit due to his negative views of himself.

⤷ He genuinely believes that you don’t want anything to do with him and that touching his worthless, filthy body would disgust you so unfathomably. He fears your rejection, and thus he avoids any possibility of it; he thinks he was already pushing his luck to be in a relationship with you.

⤷ Therefore, you were the one to bring it up to him. You’d asked him of whether or not he’s experienced; if whether or not he’s ever shared an intimacy such as that with another.

⤷ But this question tugged him into a fog of self-pity and humorless amusement. He’d strung together a tangent on how it’d be a miracle if anyone would want to do something like that with scum like him.

⤷ Of course, you weren’t going to allow your lover to put himself down like this. Going back and forth, you continuously declined his claims stating that anyone to do something like that with him would be so lucky.

⤷ At that, he finds something; a flicker. Perhaps it was a flicker of hope that’d planted a seed within his roots of doubt; hope that maybe—just maybe—you’d want to commit such an erotic act with him.

⤷ But he didn’t allow his hope to seep into his words, instead, he cast his gaze towards his lap, falling silent.

⤷ It was then that amidst the silence you had decided that enough was enough, and the amount of stalling you’d done on asking him was ludicrous in contrast to how the two of you were so keen on communication within your relationship.

⤷ Your words hung in the air as a drawn-out mutter, your voiced innermost wants seeping into the atmosphere as you avoided his gaze; would you ever want to do it with me?

⤷ The moment he registered your words, he choked on his spit and whirled his head to meet your eyes with an expression of pure shock.

⤷ He truly couldn’t believe his ears, perhaps his luck had duped him once more and he heard the wrong thing. Eventually, that was what he settled on because, truthfully, he couldn’t believe that he’d heard those daunting words of wishful desires that he’d suppressed his yearns for.

⤷ So he asked you to repeat what you said, the aftermath of his shock dissipating as he assumed he’d simply heard you wrong. Oh, how surprised he was when he heard you utter the same words; would you ever want to do it with me?

⤷ Nagito’s senses felt overwhelmed at that moment. His heart continuously swelled and fluttered at the realization of your words, his ears imaginatively rehearsed your words—fleeting whisper—as though they were lyrics to a catchy tune, his eyes trained on the nervous visage you sported.

⤷ He parted his lips only to close them; he was at a loss for words. What does he say? What could he say?

⤷ Honestly, the shock of your willingness to do something so scandalously sensual with the likes of him was a pill he struggled to swallow.

⤷ It was almost as though he was within the confines of a lucid dream, a dream of great pain, if so. He couldn’t believe it, you actually wanted to make love with him. Him, of all people.

⤷ Realizing that he was taking far too long to respond to the question that clearly took a lot of nerve to voice, he nods his head almost frantically. A blush painting over his pale complexion.

⤷ At his nod, a smile tugged at your lips as you toyed with the hem of your sleeve; a habit Nagito has come to cherish. It was a peculiar tick of yours, yet one he couldn’t help but find adorable.

⤷ To his nod, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his. Your intentions had been clear from the delicacy of the kiss; it was fleeting, a mere show of your relief and affections.

⤷ Yet as you began to pull away, his hand finds itself residing at the back of your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. This time, it was bundled with passion, unvoiced declarations of devotion.

⤷ The kiss was hasty, a great contrast to what you’d originally meant to initiate. But with the way you feverishly returned his sloppy kisses, you didn’t mind the change of pace.

⤷ It was spontaneous; spurred in the heat of the moment. What began as a soft kiss drastically melted into heated, sweat-glazed bodies pressing against one another; both bare, vulnerable.

⤷ He could feel your chest against his as his heart hammered within his rib cage. He wondered if there was the slightest possibility that you could feel it pulsate, beating for you; his love.

⤷ But despite how far you two had managed to go, naked and dissolving into each sloppy kiss the other engages in, there was still the burdening inkling of doubt; hesitance in every single movement of his.

⤷ Even as his fingers squeezed and rubbed over your skin—grasping at all that he could—there was still that searing fear instilled within him.

⤷ He was scared; so very scared. He was terrified that you’d come to your senses eventually and register the mistake you were in the process of making; letting scum like him commit such a lewd act with you.

⤷ He feared the worst; rejection. And as you pulled him in for another kiss, you could taste the bitter reminisce of uncertainty; of reluctance.

⤷ And you’re painfully aware it won’t be relieved in the span of a mere hour. Nagito’s self-degradation is stemmed from his nearly nonexistent self-worth. The only fragments of such a thing that he possesses are due to your frequent proclamations of adoration towards him; smothering him in compliments.

⤷ But it’ll be a long while before he would ever truly understand his worth; for him to understand that he’s not as lowly as he makes himself out to be.

⤷ So, as he stutters in movement, his hands flinch upon settling on your hips, look convincing himself he was treading amongst forbidden territory.

⤷ The words spilled from your lips without a hitch in beat, your smile accompanying each syllable as you meet his eyes. A sheen of sincerity glimmering in your hues.

⤷ You wanted him to know that you’re doing this with him because you want to, you chose him for a reason. You wanted him to believe that he meant so much to you and that even as you cradle his body against yours, you hold him closest within your heart.

⤷ He was not something for you to throw away once used. This wasn’t the hit-and-go scenario that he fears your intimacy may transpire to be.

⤷ With every declaration of your love for you, your longing for him, your genuine attachment to him, he reclined from your body, his vision blurred with tears in which he attempted to stop.

⤷ Rubbing at his eyes in a futile attempt to hide his tears, a stuttered sob escapes from between his lips. And eventually, his cries seep out akin to a waterfall; the tears wouldn’t stop, his sobs wouldn’t cease, and his heart wouldn’t stop hurting.

⤷ You allowed him to let it out, to let go of the emotions he’d bottled that were long overdue. You gave him what he rightfully deserved; a moment to be vulnerable, to feel human.

⤷ Pressing delicate kisses to his cheek, you kiss away the stray tears as you laid him down, straddling him.

⤷ You continued pressing your lips against his plush skin tinted with rose as he flushed beneath your ever-so gentle care. With every kiss, you whispered a compliment taken straight from the confines of your heart; sincerity within anything you muttered in infatuation of him.

⤷ Your lips continued to travel, pressing against the crevices of his body. The heated compassion of your kisses paired with your praise threatened to bring forth another round of tears from the affection-starved male.

⤷ But you were more than willing to fill in the gaping hole of his heart in which was yearning for love; for some sort of worth.

⤷ You’ll prove to him that you truly love him. You truly care for him with the entirety of your heart, and you’d appreciate him wholeheartedly. Even if it takes years, you’ll push forth and reach that fateful day together.

⤷ And as your body continued to press against one another, whines of lustful desperation swirled with adoration smothering the air, the glaze of love within your eyes had never faltered.

⤷ Even as lust intertwined with the concoction, you never lost the look of genuine care within your gaze. And not a moment passed that Nagito wasn’t peering at the hypnotic sight.

⤷ His eyes fixated on the love in your eyes as the bubbling of another emotion—other than his oncoming climax—blossomed within his stomach.

⤷ Hope; he was familiar with the concept. His rants of such a thing often accompanied by you listening intently, something he found himself falling harder for.

⤷ But as he acknowledged the love in your eyes—the pure devotion of your heart to him and solely him—he felt hope; hope that he could one day understand that feeling towards himself; hope that perhaps he wasn’t a mere throw-away, a stepping stone to others; hope that he can one day shed his hesitance and plunge forward, sure of himself.

⤷ As the two of you finally reached your climax, hands intertwined, your gasps synchronized, Nagito felt hope. And for as long as you stayed with him, he was hopeful that he, too, can truly understand the way you value him.

⤷ But for now, he dissolves the thought and settles for wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to his form. Right at that very moment, he felt euphoria; exhilaration. You wanted to do this with him, you wanted him, and he was happily yours.

#sdr2 x reader #dr2 x reader #ndrv3 x reader #drv3 x reader #kokichi x reader #kokichi oma x reader #mikan x reader #mikan tsumiki x reader #nagito x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #kokichi headcanons #mikan headcanons #nagito headcanons #danganronpa hcs #kokichi imagines #mikan imagines #nagito imagines

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jojoturnip · 2 years

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The Flipwart Game

Tw: Unsure of what specifically? It has Andrias and Marcy in the same room together, so that's triggering in and of itself. Overall, probably child grooming and that jazz. Also, mini Marcy mental breakdown/panic attack. You know how it is.

I wrote the Flipwart scene where (a) Marcy beats Andrias and (b) Marcy spills the beans because I want to see it so bad, so here y'all go--decided to have it go pre-Marcy at the Gates although this event could equally likely be shortly after A Day at the Aquarium. I hope we get to see it in canon as well.

3.5K words

I was waking up in the middle of the night again, despite myself. Nothing was making it better, making it any easier to fall asleep and stay asleep. I'd tried herbal remedies, teas, tinctures, whatever else I could get my hands on. And, none of it made a difference. It's like every time I close my eyes, I'm back there with them in that stuffy house, and they're screaming after me, and something made of glass hits the wall beside me but I don't turn around to look at what it is because I'm already running, I'm running and I--

Deep breaths, Marcy. You're the Chief Ranger of the Newtopian Knight Guard, now. You have to cool down, calm yourself, and get some rest. You can't keep running on empty.

A part of me knew even then, I think, of what was really keeping me up. The guilt weighed so heavily upon me I could physically sense it, like some foreboding shadow incessantly pulling gravity down upon my chest. I'd been in Newtopia for over two months; surely Anne and Sasha should've found me by now. Andrias had said that the mountain passes had thawed; he'd told me that our chances of finding each other quickly were greatest if I stuck it out here, in the center of Amphibia where they would surely end up sooner or later.

I'd hoped for sooner.

I folded my hands across my stomach to keep it down against the bed while my feet fidgeted and kicked beneath the silk sheets. They should've been here by now. Why aren't they here yet? What's holding them back? What if they're not here at all? What if something bad happened to them?

Anne was far too nice for her own good. Surely she could befriend some good folks like I did, but what if she fell into the hands of someone with malicious intent? It would be so easy for someone to take advantage of her heart and manipulate her! Sasha could hold her own, but she couldn't hold her tongue. What kind of trouble would she have gotten herself into by now? What if she'd picked a fight against something much stronger than her charm and cheerleading skills could handle?

I sucked a mouthful of air into my lungs. Nope. Not sleeping anymore tonight.

I sat up, turned on the mushroom light beside me, and rubbed my eyes as my room was bathed in its purple glow. The velveteen drapes above me swayed and rocked in my tired vision, but I stood up and forced myself out of bed anyway. Everything about this room was so nice: the arching window, the hand-carved oak desk, the maps and blueprints that decorated the walls, the blankets, the rugs, the soft chairs. They'd given me so much here. It felt suffocating.

A walk would do me some good. I slipped my cape over my pajamas just for warmth; no one but the guard would be out wandering the castle grounds at this time of night, and they wouldn't pay me any mind.

My feet carried me without my recognition. I wove my way through guiled hall after guiled hall, trying not to stare at the giant portraits of royalty whose glares cast downward at me sent shivers up my spine. Andrias had told me all about them and the great accomplishments of their reigns, but, God, I just felt so small beside them. Like any one of them could swallow me whole without a second thought.

The next thing I knew, I was facing the exit out onto the balcony on my floor. The patterned stained glass shone on those double doors, filtering in moonlight to dance in waving colors on the marbled floors. But, past them was something beautifully plain and underwhelming. I forced my hand on the lower golden handle made for someone of my height, but I quickly realized that someone else had used the much higher set above; the door was still left ajar.

He was leaning over the short railing, his arms crossed behind his back and his white brows drawn together on his forehead. The purple glow of the lit-up city behind echoed around the edges of his blue arms and face and reflected brightly off his chest plate. I'd never seen anyone look so deep in thought.

"King Andrias?"

His head shot up quickly, and his back straightened. I took an instinctive step back, gripping the edges of my cloak to wrap them tighter around my shoulders. The last time he had seen my without my armor, I was being presented to him in a hospital gown and cast. Appearing in front of his grace in my pajamas made me feel even smaller than the portraits in the hallway.

His knotted brow quickly softened and his eyes that had been shadowed in contemplation now shone in my direction. I immediately felt myself relax; Andrias was so unlike all the royals I read about before coming here. He was so kind and jovial and full of heart. "Why, Marcy, what are you doing out here at this hour? Your species does sleep, doesn't it?"

My brain immediately wanted to jump into explaining to him to nuances of the human circadian rhythm and the insomnia I was currently facing. But, even I could sense the gentle, joking inflection in his tone.

"Yes, of course we sleep," I said, approaching the railing beside him and wrapping my hands around two bars--I couldn't take any chances without Anne here. "I just, for whatever reason, can't find it within myself to do so tonight. Know what I mean?"

He nodded and a low hum drifted down to me as he turned to look out over Newtopia, again.

"With a mind like yours, I'm not surprised. You always have so much going on up in there. Hard to sleep when all you can do is think."

If I were Anne, I would've been able to see that he was talking more about himself than me. Instead, I relished in his compliment for a moment, every inch of my being fluttering with the absolute insanity that a literal king thought so highly of me, just me as I was.

"How about you, King Andrias? Why are you up so late?"

Something between a laugh and snort shook the stone beneath my feet. I held onto the railing tighter. "Oh, Marcy, I think we're in the same boat, here."

"Oh," I forced a laugh back, masking my confusion. "Well, do you want to talk about it? My friends and I always used to talk about what was bugging us over the phone when one of us couldn't sleep. It helps humans; I bet giant salamanders aren't that different."

He stiffened. His arms moved from their thoughtful position at his back to crossed in front of his marked chest.

Shit, Marcy. You've done it, again. How'd you manage to make the nicest guy in the world uncomfortable? What did you say this time? Was it, 'bugging?' Does that have a different connotation here, a linguistic change built upon the terrifying things that were the insects of this planet?

I was about to ask him and clarify my meaning, but his open palm approached me instead and settled against the ground beside me. I stepped gently onto his fingers, holding onto his outstretched thumb for support, chiding myself the whole time for not wearing shoes out here and getting some of his slime coating on the undersides of my feet. He held me up to his eye level and gave me a flash of his bright white smile before moving to make room for me to climb onto his shoulder.

We'd done this a few times through the castle; it made traveling easier. His strides were much larger than mine that ended half-of-the-time with me falling over in trying to keep up, which would just lead to him nearly stepping on me.

But, something was different. I couldn't name it, but something felt different as he whispered just lightly enough for me to hear beside his face, "I'm not sure talking can quiet my one-thousand-year-old problems, but how about a distraction? Want a match of Flipwart?"

"Sure!" I answered quickly, glad he didn't seem to be caught up in whatever I'd said that had bugged bothered him earlier. I was much more interested in just having a quiet little chat with as tired as I was then, but I was finally getting good at the game; I wouldn't much mind a round or two.

A part of me still stuck on the weird feeling. What problem could fester for a thousand years? What kind of problem would keep this goofy, big lug up at night?

I shook myself off of the thought. It was none of my business, and I could not ask that of the King of the world that I did not belong to.

I held onto the metallic piece beside his neck to steady myself as he walked. I tried to keep my balance without stepping onto his hair and getting it stuck on my newly sticky feet, but that was so hard. Every step he took felt like an earthquake to me.

But, then we were finally in the familiar parlor of the castle, adjacent to the throne room. He carefully set me down on one side of the table while he took a seat on the other side. I stood off of the margins of the board while he took a second to arrange the pieces for us both; it was much faster to let him do so on this board, largely made for his hands.

Playing wasn't bad, though. I started off pushing the pieces around, but it took too long, and we both always eventually settled for me calling out my movements and the King executing them for me on the board.

"Archer to G5."

The wooden piece shuffled by past me as he plucked it up in the air and pulled it closer to the middle of the board, where it immediately shot down one of his pawns.

He sighed heavily, "You're not so easy to beat anymore. Guess I'll have to resort to distracting you. What was it that was keeping you up tonight?"

He moved another pawn forward from his side of the board, still trying to protect his royal pieces and being too scared to let the big players fulfil their roles. Stupid move. He really was tired.

"I'm sure it's nothing as big as the stuff you have on your mind. I'm just missing my friends, Anne and Sasha." He stiffened again, his hand tensing around one of the pawns in his dead pile. I decided to change the subject. "Oh, move my knighted heron to E3, would you? I'm just worried about them; I hope they're okay."

His hand faltered for the first time in the match, hesitating as he grabbed my knight and moved it for me. It swiped down another one of his blocking pawns. He moved his last one into place as his own turn.

"If your friends are half as capable as you, I'm sure they're fine. You shouldn't lose faith in them so easily."

There was a low bitter tone to his voice. He must've been mad at my bold move. I'll admit, it was pretty ballsy of me to throw him out there like that; King Andrias could easily take it out. But, that's what I was waiting for.

"I know, I know. They're so much more than capable, too; I can't wait for you to meet them. Sasha's so clever and as tough as a toad. And, you'll really get along with Anne! If anyone can match your joy and love for others, it's Anne."

He let out a huff of a laugh before I used my own body to push the knight just one square over to take out another pawn. The smile that had crossed his face fell into a thoughtful frown. He thumped his fingers into the table rhythmically.

"I just, I thought they'd be here by now."

His hand hovered one piece, then he shook his head and drew his hand back.

"Yeah, I'd thought so, too, Marcy."

I took a deep breath, and it shuddered inside of me involuntarily. I sunk down against the knight and leaned against the wood, trying to force more air into my lungs before I broke in front of him.

Immediately, the King's focus shifted from his precarious situation on the board to me. "Marcy?"

Fuck. He sounded so soft. How did someone with such a big, loud voice manage to be a thousand times more gentle than I was?

I drew my knees up to my chest. The force made the piece behind me topple over. Fuck.

I started to unfurl myself from my curled position to turn over and try to fix the mess I'd made, but I was still gasping for air, and my face was suddenly wet, and oh God was I sobbing now--

He moved the knight back up before I had a chance. Then, his hand came over in front of me, and he stuck this finger in the hood of my cloak, holding me up, too, like I might topple myself over.

"Marcy, are you okay?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I started, unable to break away from his hold. My voice cracked without my permission. "I'll straighten up, I'll--"

"It's fine; you're fine, Marcy, don't worry about that. Now, tell me what's going on?"

I stopped struggling against him. I couldn't stop the words falling from me.

"I never should've done it. I never should've found that box and dragged them here because what if they're not so capable? What if they're not okay? I was so lucky to end up here with you, but where are they? And I--I didn't even tell them what I was doing because I was so stupid and selfish and all I wanted was to take them with me wherever and never let them go."

"What? Slow down, kid. What is all this?" He grabbed a giant tissue from his pocket and shoved a corner of it in my direction. "Where did all this come from?"

I took it and clutched it in my hands, not sure what to do with it. "I didn't tell you everything before, King Andrias. I'm so sorry. I--I'm not some great ambassador from my world. I ran away from Earth. I ran away from my parents. I found a book about the music box I showed you a picture of. It told me what would happen. I knew there was a chance it would whisk us off somewhere else, but I didn't think it really would and I didn't think it would separate us, too. I was just desperate. Even that chance was enough, so I helped get Anne to steal the thing, and I had them open it with me in the park. I didn't tell them what it was and what it might do or why I'd even wanted it."

"Woah, Marcy, take it back a bit. What do you mean you ran away from home?"

Another sob caught in my throat. "My parents told me my dad got a new job. He was gonna move us across the country, and I'd be so far away from Anne and Sasha, and they were all I had--all I ever had back home. I couldn't--I couldn't lose them."

"Oh, Marcy--"

"And I've never been away from them for this long! And, I'm so worried all the time because if anything happened to them--if anything happens, it's all my fault."

"Hey, hey," he shoved the tissue piece in my hand up to my face, but his fingers were too large to dab the tears away, so it only meant that the cloth was shoved against my entire face. At least that stopped me from running my mouth for a moment. "Marcy, you're just a kid, you can't put that kind of blame on yourself. Besides, it sounds like to me you made the right decision."

"What?"

"Well, if these friends of yours care for you just an ounce as much as you care for them, imagine how heartbroken they'd have been when you told them you were moving away. They wouldn't want to be separated from you, either. You had all the best intentions--you sent all three of you to another world for the adventure of a lifetime! How many others of your kind are given this opportunity?"

"None, except for in movies."

"Moo-vies, yes, but you've already told me those aren't real. So, think of the gift you've just given them. Be patient, Marcy, I'm sure they've found their own fun out in Amphibia and grown so much, just like you. They'll be here soon enough. And, I bet they're just as eager to be reunited with you."

I could feel a warm blush rising to my cheeks. "You really think so?"

"Marcy, I've had friends as close as your little group before. Nearly a thousand years ago. I would've done anything to keep them by my side, too."

Seeing that I was finally breathing normally and that I had finally used the tissue to wipe my face, he released his finger from the back of my hood. He brought the other end of the tissue up to his own eyes, and I couldn't help but stifle a laugh as he wiped away some water collecting on the edges there.

I was about to ask about his friends when he pointed back to the board and said, "Come on, now, let's finish this game."

He moved his king forward and captured my knighted heron. I smiled. It was just the opening I'd been waiting for.

"Other archer, to E6."

His hand froze, realizing his mistake.

"Come on, big guy, you wanted to finish, right?"

Slowly, reluctantly, he grabbed my archer and set it before his own king.

"Marcy, I--"

"Flipwart!" I cheered and ran to the middle of the board, placing my hand on my archer beside me.

His hand should've come back down to knock over his king in polite resignment. Instead, I looked up to see his crown casting shadows upon his face as his dark eyes raced across the board, looking for another option. There wasn't any. I was bold, sure, but I--the head of the chess club--knew better than to go for a checkmate without making sure my partner couldn't wiggle their way out of it.

"King Andrias, I learned from the best. I already analyzed all of your possible moves before going, just like you'd told me to. You can't get out of this one; I checked."

His finger came down and pushed the black king into the board below me. I put one foot over the piece's fallen body and pumped my fists up into the air.

"Woo-Hoo! That's one for Marcy! It took me long enough, huh?"

He pushed himself away from the table and into his chair. His hands shook as he took the crown off his head and set on the table. His aim wasn't quite there, and it ended up half on the board and knocked over several pawns in the way. It's point towered in front of me, and I couldn't see his face from where I was standing anymore.

"King Andrias?"

"It's been a thousand years since someone has beat me, kid."

I should've been excited by that. That's high praise, right? But, the way he said it didn't feel like it was. I made it feel like I'd just been delivered a life sentence. I took my foot off of the piece below me and made my way around the crown.

"King Andrias, it's nothing to be ashamed over. You were tired and distracted is all. I'm used to being tired and distracted, so I guess I got lucky. You'll, uh, you'll get me next time."

"Marcy, many congratulations on your victory. It's a much bigger deal than you think it is."

"Oh, well, thanks!" I smiled stiffly. His voice still wasn't quite right, but I couldn't trace what emotion exactly was lining his words. Jealousy? Envy? Bitterness? Guilt?

He held out his hand for me to climb onto again. Before I did, I grabbed the finger closest to me and hugged it. Again, his hand froze in place. Funny how the guy who loved giving hugs was so unused to receiving them.

"Thank you, King Andrias, for talking with me, listening to me. I think I can finally sleep, now."

He lifted me up to his shoulder again and began making his way out of the parlor, turning off the glowing mushrooms on our way out.

"Yeah, sleep now, while you can, Marcy."

I think I saw the crown still shining, almost like it was glowing, in the darkness behind us.

#I don't know how to play chess so none of the gameplay is accurate at all #completely made that shit up #I'm here for the complex dynamic #also #fuck andrias #hope he dies #but i really wanted to write this moment #amphibia #marcy wu #the core #king andrias #anne boonchuy #darcy wu #sasha waybright #the core and the king #flipwart

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wind0wg0blin · 4 years

Note

Ok what about AP trying to court a super stubborn take no shit human? I feel like the clashing personalities would be hilarious

Assassin Predator x Reader

Note: I like “dramatic” stuff so this kinda took on a mind of its own sorry.

You were basically a prisoner in your own home. There was no way of over powering the massive alien and there was no chance of escape. After your third failed escape attempt you had been punished by being shit into your bed room only allowed out after a gratuitous apology and the promise to behave.

All you have done since this day was plot your next move. If AP truly thought you were simply going to roll over and play the roll of his dear little human then the bastard had another thing coming. At least once a week he would have to leave to attend to alien buisness. This small opening was your only chance of getting away and finding help.

Until then you would simply have to bide your time. Sitting around your house acting complacent and content. You smiled when he greeted you even going as far as to offer him a compliment which he of course did not return. As he turned to leave you couldnt help but think about how great it would be to see the look on his face when your plan went through.

---

Three full days of waiting went by until finally, your opprotunity presented itself to you. AP had left early that morning thinking you would be fast asleep and only just waking up by the time he returned. Unfortunately for him you had been waking up earlier and earlier each morning in an attempt to match his own sleep scheduele so you wouldnt miss this chance.

With the house empty you grabbed your bag from the back of the closet and made for the window of the guest bed room. It was the only window in the house that opened wide enough for you to slip out without hurting yourself. You would have simply exited through the door but you had found out from your previous escape attempts that the doors were monitered. Opening them would just alert AP to what you were attempting.

Slipping from the ledge of the window. You land with a thump and a stumble as you right yourself. As soon as you have centered yourself, you take a deep breath before turning on heel and darting into the forest that surrounded your home. You knew that just through this forest there would be a small down hill slope before it hit the high way that would lead your straight into town and straight to safety.

You knew you had about an hour before you would be found out and about three more before you were tracked down. This gave you four hours to reach the high way at a minimum. it was a busy area and attacking you in broad daylight would be impossible.

---

You don’t know exactly how long you hand been walking but you genuinely feel like you should have reached the high way by now. The longer it took for you to leave the forest, the more anxious you became. Was it all okay and you were simply worrying? Did you take a wrong turn and were really heading deeper into the forest instead of out of it? Was AP already gaining on you?

The more you stressed on these answerless questions the less you paid attention to the world around you as you slipped away into your own internal struggling. It was a distant howl that finally snapped you from your daze.

You knew that howl. You helped take care of the creatures those howls came from once not long ago. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest as you knew you had only minutes before they would be upon you.

Looking around you searched for something to throw them off. Someway to hide yourself. Anything at all that might help you from what seemed inevitable.

Ducking around a large rocky out crop, you found a hallowed out log ledge between the ledge of the outcrop and the ground. With a final look around you conclude that there was truly no better place as you dropped to your stomach and crawled inside the mossy log.

The thick mildew stench of the rotting wood seemed to cover your own scent as you covered your mouth with both hands hoping to make yourself as quiet as humanly possible.

Time seemed to crawl by when you finally heared the distant thunder of footsteps as the pack of hunting dogs seemed to charge straight past you and onwards through the forest. You shifted ever so slightly to see if you could catch a glimpse of the hounds vanishing into the distance when you heard the groan of wood before a loud splintering crack.

You could help but scream as the trunk you where hiding in was split in half showering you in dirt and splinters before you were hoisted from your now destroyed hiding spot and thrown over a large and all too familiar shoulder.

“Yet again you prove that you can not be trusted.” AP commented his grip on your waist firm as he began the trek back towards the house.

You screamed and swore and struggled the entire journey back to the house. You were so frustrated that you could feel yourself going red in the face from the stress of the entire situation. Why couldnt he just let you go what did you do wrong? Why did he have to target you?

In a moment of blind emotion you let these questions come out just as you both stepped over the thresh hold of the house you’ve come to hate.

“You idiot.” AP snarled tossing you down onto the sofa before coming to loom over you trapping you in place by his gaze alone. “I keep you here to keep you safe. I did not choose to care for you human and I will not have you pathetically off yourself and bring me any more pain than your normal existance does.” He snapped before seeming to catch himself. With a growl he stalked off into another room clearly having said more than he wanted to.

You were left sitting there realing over the fact that this being that has held you prisoner in your own home for the last four months was not doing it out of malicious intent but because he cared about you and had no idea how to confront these emotions.

Gritting your teeth you pulled a pillow to your chest and let out a muffled scream. Why did you both have to be so damned stubborn???

I didn’t beta read this just pretend there aren’t any blatantly obvious grammar issues

Also if you enjoyed please leave a like and reblog!!! <3

#Yautja #Assassin predator #predator #predator x reader #yautja x reader #yautja imagines #stubborn!reader #reader insert #drabble #Anonymous

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gunpowdville · 3 years

Text

The Great Flesh-Eating Cake Incident of Year [REDACTED], Chapter 2

chapter: 2/2

relationships: Drumbot Brian-Raphaella la Cognizi (queerplatonic), Gunpowder Tim/Lyfrassir Edda/Marius Von Raum, Nastya Rasputina/the Aurora

Other things: genderfluid Tim, she/her Tim, he/fae Marius, temporary character death, possession, canon-typical violence. but mostly literally just silly self-indulgent fluff.

chapter 1

ao3

Read here below the cut >:}

The Rec Room: Tim, Lyf, Marius. All 10 still alive. (a few minutes before It is released)

Lazy days on Aurora are hard to come by, and when they do happen, they are spent most often by complaining about how boring lazy days are. Some, however, can find content in the slower days spent in relative peace and quiet. Case in point: the three currently buried in a pillow nest in the middle of the rec room floor.

The situation is this: the pillows and cushions from the furniture all stripped away and stolen to build a comfortable arrangement on the floor. Gunpowder Tim, in simply a loose blouse and leggings, hair braided elegantly over one shoulder. Lyfrassir Edda, in what is undeniably one of Tim’s waistcoats, perched in between the gunner’s legs, having their hair braided by her deft hands. Marius von Raum, sprawled across Lyf’s lap, waving his hands about animatedly as he talks.

“You left out the best part,” Tim says as Marius finishes relaying the story of how fae and Raph had joined the crew. “You forgot to mention the bit where Bri gave the two of you an actual job interview. And how, upon being asked your greatest strengths, you said, and I quote, ‘I’m hot.’”

“You did not,” Lyf looks utterly scandalized. “At a job interview?”

“You forget, love, that the job fae was applying for was being a Mechanism,” Tim points out, running her fingers through the former inspector’s hair. “The criteria is pretty much being able to play an instrument and willing to do crime.”

“Speaking of,” Marius says, batting aimlessly at Tim’s face where it peeks at him over Lyf’s shoulder. “It’s a shame that we only really have two or so songs together, Tim. We should get to sing together more.”

Tim nods in agreement. “We’re simply too powerful together.”

“I’ve been thinking of trying to get Jonny to let the three of us sing Blood & Whiskey,” Marius admits, then frowns. “Oh, wait, sorry Lyffers, I forgot you sound like a drowning cat when you sing.”

“I do not!” Lyf flushes scarlet, turning their face away from Tim’s raised eyebrow.

“You’re right, sorry, it’s more like a drowning cat playing a kazoo.”

Lyf makes an attempt to hit Marius lightly, but the violinist just catches their hand and kisses the back of it, grinning wickedly.

“Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever actually heard you sing,” Tim says slyly, tying off the braid and leaning forward so she can rest her chin on Lyf’s shoulder. “Would you sing for me?”

“Do you enjoy the sound of a drowning cat playing a kazoo?” Lyf asks her.

“Well, not exactly…”

“Then according to Mare, you do not want to hear me sing.”

Tim pouts, showing off her mastery of sad puppy dog eyes. The overhead lights glinting off the metal make them sparkle, creating a masterfully alluring wide gaze. “Please? Just a bit? For me?”

It is next to impossible to argue with those eyes, especially once you’ve already fallen hard for the person making them at you. With a sigh, Lyf squeezes their eyes tight shut and awkwardly sings a few lines of Blood & Whiskey. It sounds, as promised, like a drowning cat playing a kazoo.

Tim manages to hold a straight face for roughly three seconds before guffawing with laughter, burying her face in the spot between Lyf’s shoulder and neck to smother her cackles.

Lyf breaks off, turning their head slightly with a gently irritated eyebrow raised at their partner. “Are you finished?”

“Sorry,” Tim gasps between giggles, nuzzling further into their neck, failing miserably at trying to stifle her mirth. “I- I just- I didn’t expect it to actually sound- like that- I’m- I’m sorry-”

“I told you,” Marius crows, grinning up at Lyf and Tim with triumphant teasing fire in faer eyes. “Wasn’t I right?”

“You two are very rude to me,” Lyf huffs, sticking their nose in the air haughtily. Tim lifts her face from their shoulder and noses their jaw, murmuring something about drowning cats and how they have never sounded more attractive. Lyf pointedly ignores her.

“Aw, hey, don’t be like that, fairytale,” Marius heaves himself into a sitting position and catches the former inspector’s face in his hands. “Y’know we’re just teasing you ‘cuz we love you, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too,”Lyf sighs, giving in and letting faer kiss them.

“Sappy,” Tim comments, earning a petulant finger from Marius. “Also, fairytale?”

“They’re my fairytale,” Marius declares proudly, and Tim pouts. “What am I, then?”

“You,” Lyf contemplates, turning their head to meet Tim’s metallic gaze with their own iridescent one. “You’re my battle cry. You’re the song I sing for strength when I can’t find it. You’re my declaration to the world that I will not stand still and break. You’re the inspiration that keeps me fighting. My battle cry.”

“Well,” Tim blinks, making a valiant attempt to keep her voice steady. “Hey now. You didn’t have to go and do that to me.”

Lyf’s brow furrows, concern instantly evident in their features. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, goddamnit, you said everything right, you- fuck.” without another word, Tim fists a hand in the front of their shirt and pulls them into a kiss. “I fucking love you.”

Lyf’s (no doubt sappy as all hell) response is cut off by Marius, who groans and rolls out of their lap with a huff. “If you two are going to be like that, I’m leaving.”

“You started it,” Tim points out, “but whatever, more Lyf time for me.”

Marius sticks faer tongue out at her as fae leaves. “Go see if Bri’s made me any munchies!” Tim calls after him, before turning back to her partner with a decidedly malicious smirk. “Now, where were we?”

They are interrupted not long after by Brian, who comes barging into the room without preamble, zeroes distractedly in on the pair of them, says “Oh. Hello, dears. Have either of you seen an unidentifiable mass of sentient ooze? Slightly larger than an octokitten? It ate Marius,” and then hurries out the opposite door.

Tim and Lyf glance at each other, attempting to register his words. “Wha- Brian, what?”

But the Drumbot has already disappeared down the corridor, leaving the two of them to scramble to their feet and race after him, their questions landing on ignorant ears.

Nastya, the corridors: 9 left alive, 1 eaten.

Nastya spends her lazy days with her girlfriend, most of the time. She enjoys the quieter hours when she can work on repairs, listening to Aurora tell her stories or complain about whatever is on her mind. This particular lazy day, the engineer is sitting cross-legged on the floor of one of the corridors, right outside Jonny’s room, her hands deftly working at the wires beneath one of the wall panels. Aurora is telling her about a new program she and Ivy are working on, a sort of virtual reality experience for the shooting range that will ‘revitalize the excitement of warfare’, in her words. Nastya listens intently, interjecting with questions when she has them and praise when it is deserved.

As she finishes up, carefully replacing the wall panel and smiling softly at Aurora’s petulant complaints, something drops from the air vent above her. She takes a smooth step back as the thing falls to the floor with a wet thwack. At first glance it resembles an octokitten, but as it unfurls it reveals itself as more of a dark glistening lump, tendrils of gooey flesh extending across the floor toward Nastya.

“Well, hello,” The engineer says, tilting her head to study it. “What are you?”

That is the cake our Drumbot and his science officer made, Aurora answers for her. Don’t touch it.

“This is a cake?”

I believe it was supposed to be.

“And what is it now?”

Decidedly not a cake.

It’s at that moment that Ivy comes racing into the corridor, breathless and looking faintly annoyed. “Ah. Nastya. Good. Have you seen-” her eyes drift to the thing at Nastya’s feet. “That.”

“I am certainly looking at it right now,” Nastya says in response, nudging a toe forward to poke at it. Ivy throws out an arm to stop her. “Do not. Unless you want to get eaten.”

Nastya raises an eyebrow and quickly steps back, just as an octokitten meanders into the area, approaching the blob with a curious ‘mrrp’. Ivy dives for it, but the creature is much faster, latching onto the octokitten in a second. But instead of eating it, the thing seems to melt into it, turning it a darker color.

“Hm,” Ivy hums curiously. “That’s new.”

The possessed octokitten zeroes in on Ivy and Nastya, yawning wide to show a lot more teeth than should be able to fit in its mouth.

“Run?” Nastya suggests, watching the kitten start forward on uneasy tentacles.

“Run,” Ivy agrees.

Jonny & Ashes, the shooting range: 9 left alive, 1 eaten.

The shooting range is one of the few rooms on Aurora that isn’t quiet on lazy days. This day is no different from any other in that regard, with the sounds of gunfire and cackling echoing from behind the wide open door. The quartermaster and the first mate are both in there, trapped in a pointless competition to outshoot each other. They have done this many times before, and who wins changes nearly every time. But it’s an excellent way to distract and relieve stress, and Jonny had noticed Ashes appearing down earlier, so he had suggested a shooting competition. He never said that he was doing it to cheer them up, but he’s pretty sure they’ve caught on to his intentions.

“I kicked your ass harder than Brian got his ass kicked in that sun,” Ashes remarks, standing over Jonny, who lies prone on the floor. Jonny groans and sits up, shoving his singed hair off of his forehead. “You cheated.”

“Says what rules?” Ashes snorts, reaching down to help him up.

“It was a shooting match, O’Reilly, not a goddamn grenade match.”

“Your screaming was hilarious, though.”

Jonny scowls and flips them off. Ashes laughs and slips another grenade into their pocket, a little something to save for later.

The trapdoor in the ceiling of the shooting range drops open, and Raphaella tumbles through, falling head over heels and landing neatly on her feet with a dancer’s grace. “We have something of a problem.”

“Yeah, Ashes just fucking blew me up,” Jonny complains, and Ashes rolls their eyes. “You’re fine.”

“You’re fine,” Raphaella says at exactly the same time, and Ashes shoots a grin at her. “Anyway, Bri and I may have done… something.”

“You may have done something,” Brian argues, breezing into the room with Tim and Lyf close on his heels. “I take no responsibility.”

“Can we please go back to the part where it ate my boyfriend?” Lyf demands, causing Jonny’s eyebrows to shoot up practically to his hairline. “Someone’s eating boyfriends?”

“The octokittens are possessed,” this is Nastya, squeezing past Brian through the door, tailed by Ivy.

“Possessed?”

“Possessed,” Ivy confirms, to Brian’s incredulous outburst.

“D’you mean those octokittens?” Jonny asks, pointing to the door. Sure enough, a gaggle of octokittens meanders through, moving a bit unsteadily, oily dark colors writhing beneath their skin.

“That looks like- that’s-” Lyf’s eyes go wide as they stare at the kittens. “What the fuck is that?”

“It was supposed to be a cake,” Brian says mournfully.

“It ate Marius!”

“It’s technically your child, Lyf,” Raphaella pipes up. “The compound I used to make it is based on your blood samples.”

Lyf just stares at her.

“It doesn’t look that bad,” Ashes remarks. They crouch down and flip open their lighter, holding it in front of one of the kittens’ face. It flinches, then snarls and shoots toward them, latching onto their foot, its jaws opening far wider than they should be able to. They try to kick it off, but its tentacles appear to have melted onto their skin and are slowly eating through. With a squelch, the odd entity detaches fully from its octokitten host, who blinks and scuttles into the corner.

With a pained grunt, Ashes drops their lighter onto the thing on their foot, successfully setting the thing alight. It recoils and retreats to the center of the floor, squelching in a frantic circle. It leaves behind nothing left of the quartermaster’s foot, and Ashes stumbles and is caught by Jonny, who steadies them and shoots a murderous look at the flaming blob.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Ashes hisses through their teeth, pain evident on their features. “Goddamn. What the fuck, you two.”

“Again, I take no responsibility,” Brian insists. Raphaella sticks her tongue out at him. “You are a bastard and a traitor and I never loved you anyway.”

Brian blows her a kiss and a wink.

“Interesting,” Ivy interrupts, pulling out a notepad and writing something down. “It appears fire is ineffective.”

This gets everyone’s attention directed back to the creature, which is indeed decidedly not dead or incapacitated in any way. It isn’t even on fire anymore. And it looks angry.

“You’re kidding me,” Ashes growls, staring at the thing with disgusted fury.

“Run,” Tim suggests, pushing Lyf gently out of the way as the thing focuses on them and begins to move forward. “Split up and run. It can’t get all of us at once.”

Jonny nods and dutifully starts off out of the room, taking Ashes with him, holding them up as they limp and curse. Ivy and Nastya shoot off in another direction, Nastya scooping up the disgruntled left-behind octokitten as she goes. Raphaella grabs Lyf’s wrist and pulls them up through the ceiling trapdoor, ignoring their startled protests. That leaves Tim with Brian. She turns to him, poised to ask what the plan is, but hesitates when she sees Brian standing there, head cocked to one side, staring blankly at the empty floor. The bifrost cake-creature is nowhere to be seen.

“Brian?” Tim steps forward, reaching out and resting a concerned hand on his shoulder. “Bri? You good?”

Brian’s head lifts, slowly, in an uncharacteristically stilted motion. His eyes are… wrong. Something is moving in them, and if Tim looks closely she can see it oozing from the corners. Oh. Oh no.

“Fuck,” she breathes, stumbling backward and reaching for a pistol. “Not Brian not Brian not Brian.”

The thing in Brian’s body smiles, forcing the expression onto the Drumbot’s face. It takes a step forward. Of course, it’s at that moment that the Toy Soldier decides to make its first appearance.

“Sorry I’m late!” It announces as it steps into the shooting range. “I was in the middle of a delightful painting using the blood from that corpse Jonny dragged onto the ship the other day! I didn’t want to leave it for too long in case it was ruined! Anyway, I heard there was a crew meeting?”

“Oh, I’d love to see that painting,” Tim says, momentarily distracted. The Toy Soldier claps its hands together excitedly. “Of course! I’ll set up a viewing!”

Tim grins. “Lovely. Now, what do you know of possession?”

“Well, it depends on what kind!”

“Um,” Tim glances back at Brian and whatever is piloting him, who has stopped in its tracks and is watching the exchange curiously. “Well. Would you.. Happen to know anything about possession by.. Cake?”

In the brief pause that follows, the thing inside Brian appears to give up on its curiosity and steps forward, opening his mouth. Tim frowns at it for a moment, confused, and then she sees the soft glow building in the back of the Drumbot’s throat. “Oh shit.”

Tim & The Toy Soldier, just outside the shooting range, 9 left alive, 1 footless, 1 eaten

Tim grabs the Toy Soldier and pulls it with her as she bolts to the door, just as a jet of flame shoots out of Brian’s mouth.

“Since when can he do that?” she yelps, flattening herself against a wall to avoid being scorched.

“Oh, that is interesting!” TS declares, peeking around the doorframe. Tim nods. “So. To catch you up. There’s some sort of Bifrost related demon-creature loose on the ship, it is currently inside Brian’s body and appears to be controlling him. Fire can’t kill it. Oh, and it ate Mare.”

The Toy Soldier nods, bouncing on the balls of its feet. “So?”

Tim blinks, then shrugs. “We kill it, I suppose. At least get it out of Brian.”

“How do we do that?”

“That’s what I’m asking you!”

Another jet of flame shoots past them, followed by what sounded oddly like a frustrated grunt. The thing still hasn’t actually followed them into the hall, which is a good sign, if somewhat nonsensical. Tim flinches further back instinctively, feeling the heat in her eyes.

“I don’t know what to do,” she confesses. “I don’t know how to get it out without opening Brian up, and he won’t like that. And I can’t even get close to it when it’s breathing fire at us like that.”

“Hmm,” the Toy Soldier hums a thoughtful note. Tim bites her lip, thinking, then lets out a soft laugh. “I’m glad I’m here with you and not Nastya,” she tells TS. “She’d probably suggest kissing it.”

There’s an awkward clank from the shooting range, followed by the sounds of a struggle. Tim glances at TS, who shrugs. “I could kiss it!”

“Could you?” Tim frowns again. “I mean.. I suppose it would just be kissing Brian, wouldn’t it, unless.. D’you think that would work? The kissing?”

“Possibly!” the Toy Soldier sounds positively thrilled about the prospect. “I’m very good at it, you know!”

“I feel like making out with the eldritch blob possessing our crewmate is a bit extreme,” Tim says, peeking around to corner to see what’s happening in the shooting range. What she sees gives her pause.

Brian seems to be fighting back against the thing holding his body hostage. He’s standing in the room where they left him, and every so often he takes a jerky, strained step forward, like he’s having to force himself to step. Although in this case its more likely that he’s trying to stop himself from taking a step. He looks pained, and Tim feels that familiar protective rage rising in her, that feeling of no he’s mine you can’t hurt him. All thoughts of kissing fade away, and she steps out, pistol in hand, and marches back into the shooting range.

“Brian,” she says, and the Drumbot’s head lifts slightly, his eyes still leaking sludgy iridescence. “Bri. Hey. I know you can hear me. Uh. I’m going to do something, and it might be.. A bit uncomfortable for you, but it will hopefully work out in the long run. So do me a favor and… stop fighting it for a moment? Just a moment.”

Brian gives her a wary look, but nods stiffly, clearly using every bit of control he has left. Then he lets go. His face goes blank, and his mouth opens, that glowing heat making another appearance. With a grimace, Tim lifts her pistol and fires.

The bullet flies true, carving straight through the flamethrower mechanism in the back of Brian’s throat and exiting out the back of his head. There’s an inhuman screeching sound, and Brian jerks once as the creature, with its main source of power destroyed, crawls out of the hole left behind.

Brian shudders once, then raises a hand to touch the new hole in his head.

“You alright?” Tim asks, stepping forward. “You.. you?”

“I’m fine,” Brian reassures her. “That could have obliterated my vocal cords, but I’m alright.”

“You’re welcome,” Tim says, tossing her braid back over her shoulder smugly.

“I don’t want to ruin the good mood,” TS says, peeking into the room curiously. “But, where did it go?”

Tim and Brian both freeze, locking terrified eyes. And then the lights go out.

Raphaella, Lyfrassir, Nastya, Ivy: In the dark. 9 left alive, 1 eaten, 1 footless

When the lights go out, someone screams. It’s Lyf. Raphaella shoots them a glare over her shoulder, aware of their ability to see in the dark.

“Sorry,” they whisper. Raphaella frowns. “Why are you whispering?”

“I don’t know,” they admit. “It feels like the right thing to do.”

“Aurora?” That’s Nastya’s voice, coming from just ahead of them. She sounds worried. “Aurora, please say something. Please tell me if you’re hurt. Aurora?”

“Nas?” Raphaella moves forward, stretching a hand out until she bumps into the engineer’s shoulder. Nastya grabs her hand and gives it a quick squeeze, an indication that she’s here and she’s alright. “Raph, good. Is Lyfrassir still with you?”

“Right here,” Lyf says, still whispering. “Where’s Ivy?”

“Here as well,” the archivist pipes up from the other side of Nastya. “Everyone’s okay, as far as we can tell, Aurora simply.. Stopped.”

“Do you think it got to her?” Lyf asks, shifting nervously behind Raphaella.

“It better not have,” Nastya snaps, her concern for her girlfriend evident in her voice.

Raphaella squeezes Nastya’s shoulder and looks around, cursing the fact that she hasn’t given herself night vision yet. “Ives, can you get ahold of Bri?”

Ivy nods and closes her eyes, typing out a message to Brian in her brain. After a moment, she nods again and announces, “He’s alright. Tim and the Toy Soldier are with him. It took control of his body, but they got it out of him and he’s barely hurt.”

“That’s good!” Raphaella exclaims, giving Nastya’s shoulder another squeeze. “That means Aurora should be fine, once we get it out of her!”

Nastya nods, expression growing determined. “How do we get it out of her?”

“Um, I don’t mean to alarm anyone,” Lyf says, sounding a bit shaky. “But there is something wrapped around my leg.”

They sound afraid, but not panicked or in pain, which causes Raphaella to frown. They don’t even sound urgent. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah I’m- I’m fine, it isn’t hurting me. It’s more… it’s like it’s hugging me.”

“Didn’t you say you made it out of their blood?” Ivy inquires, and Raphaella nods. “Perhaps it recognizes them as one of its own.”

“I don’t like the implications of that,” Lyf says quietly, then gives a determined shake of their head. “Right. Now is not the time for a Bifrost-related panic attack.”

“We can use this,” Raphaella perks up suddenly. “We can use your connection to it, Lyffy, to… something.”

Silence falls as the four of them think on it. And then Ivy speaks up. “I have something from Brian. He met up with Jonny and Ashes, and Jonny has an idea. He just needs us to lure it into something smaller and able to be picked up.”

“Can we do that?” Raphaella glances to Lyf, who nods. “Great. Let’s go.”

Lyfrassir, the kitchen. Same situation.

The kitchen is dark and eerie when Lyf enters, stepping carefully over the seething tendrils rising from the floor, grabbing at their legs. It’s almost possessive, the way it reaches for them, curling around them with its oozing tentacles. They can almost hear it talking to them, in their head, whispering mine mine mine. It terrifies that, but they shove it aside to think about later, once they’ve got this dealt with. Instead they focus on locating something small and liftable to lure the thing into. They find something almost instantly.

As they approach the object they’ve chosen, their Bifrost-enhanced eyes land on something in the middle of the floor, a moving shape.

“Hey, babe,” they say, stepping lightly over the half-formed Marius Von Raum to the counter.

“Hi,” fae groans, conscious enough for at least that. “Whatcha up to?”

“Oh, nothing,” Lyf replies, placing their hands gently on the object they want to bring the creature into, watching it curl up around their arms and moving down the walls toward them, chasing the contact. “And… there we are.”

In a flash, Jonny comes pelting into the room. He grabs Small Brian the electric mixer from Lyf’s hands, and as the lights come on he races down the corridor, and the sound of a door sliding open can be heard.

“What did you do?” Brian demands as the first mate reappears, smugly dusting off his hands.

“Tossed it out the airlock,” Jonny grins.

“Right, ‘cause throwing all our problems out an airlock always works,” Ashes snorts. Jonny frowns. “It does.”

Tim shakes her head. “Oh, you are so lucky I can’t roll my eyes too hard without fucking up my face, D’Ville.”

Brian looks gutted. “You- you threw- Small Brian?”

Jonny freezes. “Oh- oh shit, Bri- I didn’t- Shit shit shit.”

“We’re getting it back,” Brian says, folding his arms and glaring. “As soon as Aurora’s recovering, we’re getting it back.”

“How do we know that that thing will die out there and not just… devour a star system?” Lyf asks. Jonny shrugs. “That’s not our problem.”

“I… fair enough,” Lyf sighs, and casts a last look toward the airlock before going to help Marius up.

Brian & Raphaella: Everyone alive and well

They get everything on the ship back in order quickly. Marius is back, and is being regaled with the tales of what he missed by Lyf and Tim. As soon as Aurora is ready to move again, Brian takes her to pick up Small Brian, and he carries the mixer reverently back to its place in the kitchen. “You’re a hero,” he whispers to it, before kissing the top of it lightly. He then gathers all the ingredients to make another cake, a real one this time.

Just as he’s setting up to get everything made, Nastya comes marching out of the corridor from where she’s been checking up on Aurora, a flamethrower in hand.

“Right,” she says, firing up the weapon. “Where are the fuckers who got my girlfriend possessed?”

Raphaella and Brian glance at each other, knowing this was coming. With a grin, Raphaella runs over and grabs Brian’s hand, pulling him after her down the hall and away from the vengeful engineer.

Nastya curses and follows, and Raphaella lifts off the ground, sweeping Brian into her arms bridal-style to easier carry him. He yelps, and then laughs, twisting to look down and watch Nastya chase after them, looking furious.

Raphaella rounds into a tight corner and sets down, letting Brian back on his feet. They’re both giggling, and Brian buries his face in her shoulder, grinning widely. She kisses his hair and strokes it lightly, running her fingers around the edges of the hole in the back of his neck.

Nastya finds them like that, rounding the corner and hefting her flamethrower with a malicious glimmer in her eyes. “There you are,” she hisses, and this time there’s nowhere to run.

“It was fun while it lasted,” Raphaella murmurs to Brian as she pulls back, and he takes her hand.

“Love you always,” he replies, and she leans over to kiss his cheek. “See you soon.”

And together, they face their fate.

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 3 years

Text

A NEW EXPERIENCE

Prompt: You and Roman have been together for 7 years now,and on the night of your 5th year wedding anniversary,you have a new way to demonstrate your love for him

Word count: Uh girl,grab a snack ‘cuz this one is long!

Pairing: Roman Reigns x Reader

Warnings: +18 smut,cursing,slight self-degradation,fluff(at the end),a lot of intimacy and Tantric Massage(yes,you’ve heard it right 😉)

A little disclaimer,before we continue: Tantra is a middle eastern (more precisely Indian) philosophy and spiritual path,the tantric massage itself is a wonderful experience that DOES NOT involves any sort of sexual interaction such as penetration or masturbation!Yes it does involve yoni/lingam massage(vagina/penis massage) but the whole goal of it it’s not orgasm/ejaculation.It can happen of course,’cuz we’re humans but if it can it has to be delayed/controlled since that’s not a goal to be reached,it’s a full body experience and a deeper self connection and healing journey.So if someday you reach out a PROFESSIONAL for this especific massage,keep all this things in mind,please.The only reason I’ve included sex on this it’s because the characters in this story are married and got carried away(also because,it’s Roman I mean,who wouldn’t?). Also they don’t live the Tantra as a philosophy or spiritual path at all! It’s just a new way of working they intimacy together as a couple.It is NOT my intention to degrade ANY form of philosophy/spiritual path from anyone’s beliefs,this is for entertainment purposes only,and also a new way for me to write about new/different themes(or personal study topics of mine) for my stories. I have a deep love for middle eastern cultures and an even deeper love for studying different types of philosophy/spiritual paths.

Tag: My soul sister @ziasaph

Notes: Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and if you’re comfortable with it,please let me know what you think? Some feedback is always welcomed and appreciated ❤️You can check out my other stories typing ‘masochist writes’ on the search bar on my page and my newest story as a fixed post.

Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

Today’s my 5th year wedding anniversary with my lovely husband,Roman.We’ve been together for 7 years now.The first time I met him,I gotta say, I hated him! There was something about him that screamed trouble.He was too good to be true,I mean,he was incredibly handsome,polite,thoughtful,kind,loving,funny,intelligent,respectful(a true gentleman really),the best kiss I’ve ever had and don’t even get me started on this man’s bedroom skills...No man ever fucked me like that,no man ever cared much more about my pleasure than with he’s own,no man could make me feel like a goddess the way he could..you see what I mean?He couldn’t be an honest good man right?!And I knew better!Oh I really did..I’ve always had a “rotten finger” when it came to my men choices.If you putted me in a room with two guys,a truly good man and a shitty asshole,I would’ve had 100% chose the latter.Maybe for the “fun” of it or even just to prove my Freudian fate,who knows?

But when I decided to finally give in to the Samoan’s charm and accepted to finally officially date him,I discovered why he smelled like trouble,because as soon as I found out I was in love with him I knew I had lost my whole heart to that man!And if you came from a emocional troubled background,like I did,you know that that’s the worst case scenario one could ever have.But funny enough,despite my deepest fears,he changed my whole world,he dragged me out of the shit pit I’ve always lived in and pushed me into the light beside him,making me forget everything bad that ever happened to me,transforming my reality into the fairytale I could never had imagined.If you told me,7 years ago,that right now I would be here telling you this same story,I would have have bitterly laughed at your face and asked you to give me a hit of whatever it is that you had.

But here I am,finishing to set up one of our guests room for the surprise I had in mind for my husband.I’m sure that this will never repay him for the way he always made me feel,but at least I hope he can have a bit of a glimpse of how much I truly love and care for him.

I was lighting up the last pair of candles when I heard the front door open,his deep sigh and the loud thump of his bags dropping on the living room floor.

“Y/N,baby girl? You home?” That voice alone could bring the biggest,truthful smile upon my lips.I put the lighter on my jacket’s pocket,carefully closing the guest room door and I ran downstairs to meet my redemption in form of a man.

“Roman!” I squealed while I preceded to jump on his arms and wrap my legs around his waist,kissing him like I would never see him again.

“Wow!” He chuckled “I see someone missed me those 3 weeks,huh?!” Still laughing,he wrapped his big arms around my waist and retributed my kiss vigorously.

“Of course I missed you baby!You’re my Samoan Prince Charming,how could I not miss that?!”I laughed.

“Prince Charming,huh?!”He chuckled “You wait ‘til you see what I wanna do to you...I’m pretty sure you’re gonna change your mind from prince charming to tramp real quick!”He smirks and I can already feel my panties getting damp with excitement.

“Oh really,big guy?! Well I’m sorry,but I’m about to piss in your yard and ruin your dreams!’Cuz I already have a surprise for you,and that took a lot of prep time too,so as much as I would love to see what you have in mind that will have to wait,at least ‘til later.”

“Piss in my yard?!Oh baby girl,always so delicate with your words!”He laughed

“What? I’m expressive,you know that!Also if anyone here is the well mannered,polite and posh one that’s you,I’m just you know,rough street trash”.I bitterly said

“Hey!Don’t say that,please.You know that I don’t like when you degradate yourself like that.You’re not trash,you’re my everything!And let’s be honest here baby, I love your rough side..”He squeezed my ass,to prove his point.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna get all worked up,and you’re going to ruin my surprise...” I whispered

“Ok,ok.I stopped!”He chuckled,then gave me a light peck on the lips before lowering me down to the ground.”So what do you have planned?”

“You know it’s called surprise for a reason right?!”I said.

“Oh c’mon Y/N! Not even a little preview baby?” He gave me those beautiful puppy eyes,and the bastard knew that I would give in.

“Argh,you’re the worst!”I faked an annoyed face,but he knew I was pretending so he just smiled and I couldn’t help but smile back.”Ok the only,ONLY thing I will tell you is that it involves a large amount of intimacy..I’ve never done that to anyone before..and it’s an incredible experience.That’s all I’m saying!”I proudly huffed.He stared at my face for an eternity before he slowly smirked at me saying “You do realize that you said you were going to tell me just ONE thing about it,but you ended up telling me THREE instead,right?!” He started laughing when I poked his broad chest saying “Shut up! You know,you’re lucky I love you,because otherwise I would just kick your ass right now.”I tried to hold back my laugh,but that soon was forgotten when he kissed my lips so slowly and sweet and said “I don’t have a doubt you could kiss my ass at anytime baby.” He lazily smiled at me,before his expression turned more serious. “I love you Y/N so fucking much!” He caresses my face before continuing “I’m so happy I could take a few days off to be with you,to celebrate the 7 years we’ve been together..and the many more years yet to come” He pecked my lips lightly “I could never have asked for a better woman,wife,best friend,lover,supporter..my own personal safe harbor.” He shyly smiled at me and pressed our foreheads together,and I couldn’t help the tears escaping through my eyes.

“Oh baby girl, I didn’t meant to make you cry!” He said

“Those are happy tears I promise!” I sighed “Besides,I feel bad that I can’t say such beautiful things to you,I’m sorry baby,that you got the product made with a broken mold” I sadly sighed.

“Hey,I already told you to stop saying those bad things about yourself! Also you don’t have to apologize,I know everything you went through and it’s normal for someone in your position to be a little careful when showing your fellings,and trust me babe, I don’t need your words to know that you love me,your actions already do the job!” The smile he gave me was so sincere that reached his eyes.And I really hope that my actions tonight will prove his statement to be right.

“So,when do you plan on giving me my surprise?” He asked with a sparkle in his eyes.And I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Well the first thing I need to know is if you’re already fed?”

“Yep! I stopped by a cafe on my way home and ate something light,like you asked me to”. He responded

“Good!Now I’m gonna need you to take a shower so you can wash away the tiredness of your flight,towel yourself dry,but don’t put any clothes on I’m gonna need you naked for this.” He maliciously smirked at me.

“You need me naked,huh?” He licked his lips “Ok,sounds like a great surprise so far..”

“Yes it is! And if I were you, I would hurry up..”

With that he ran off to the bathroom like a little boy,and a few seconds later I could hear the water running.

As soon as I finished stripping the last piece of clothing off my body,I heard the bathroom door open and Roman call for me.

“I’m in the guest room.The one near the stairs.” A few seconds later, I see him entering the room.

“Wow,this looks beautiful!” Since we never used that room as a guest room,it didn’t had a bed(which helped a lot) I just cleaned the hardwood floor,placed a big extra thick(about 40mm) yoga exercise mat in the center of the room,a lot of candles(some were sandalwood scented,but not many,so it doesn’t get too nauseating.Just enough to give that relaxing feeling),some rose petals around the floor, a few cozy cushions around the yoga mat and a little low table with one massage candle and a large thermical water bottle(to keep the water cold and fresh).It wasn’t much but it did look cozy and spa like.

“Did you like it?”

“If I like it?Baby girl it’s perfect!”Then he looked at my naked body and added “Perfect indeed” as he slowly lowered down to catch my lips in the most romantic kiss. When I broke the kiss(‘cuz if it was for him,we would stay there for hours) I begin to explain to him what my surprise was.

“I was thinking what I could give you for our 5th year anniversary that wasn’t bought from a store,but had more of a deep sentimental value” He slowly nodded

“I was talking to Sarah and she told me that Lisa,her new girlfriend is a Tantric massage therapist and had given her a tantric massage one day,she said it was the best experience she’s ever had.So I got curious and decided to make an appointment with her and babe” I sighed “I’ve never had in my life,such an amazing experience! The feeling is...I can’t describe,you have to feel it to understand it. My point is,Lisa told me that tantric massage can be used by couples as a form of bonding,like a deeper connection. It can be used to strengthen they’re intimacy.” When I saw the confused look on his face I said

“What I’m trying to say is that I love you so much” He smiles “I love you too baby girl” I smiled back,continuing my explanation “And I know that you’re the best man I could’ve ever had asked for myself!Even too good for me,but my point is that,it makes me upset that I don’t tell you as often as I would like to how much you mean to me,so I asked Lisa for some advice on how to perform a tantric massage on you and thought that,maybe it would be a nice way to show you how I truly feel,through this” I pointed out to the set up in front of us,smiling shyly.

“I-I..baby girl, I don’t even know what to say...This is all so beautiful, I mean, you didn’t need to make all this to show me that you care or love me babe,I know that regardless” he touched my face softly and quickly added “But that doesn’t mean I’m not curious about your surprise..In fact I’m quite excited to see what this is all about” He has a evil sparkle on his eyes and we both couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ok big dog,I gonna need you to lay down on your stomach for me,okay?”

He smiled and did as I asked.

I kneeled down on one of the cushions beside the yoga mat and said

“Alright baby,now,I need you to close your eyes,relax and just focus on my touch upon your skin ok?” When he nodded I grabbed the massage candle and started by dripping some of the wax into his ankles and calves,lightly spreading the melted wax up,until it reaches his back thighs.

I remembered that Lisa told me that this should not be a relaxing massage,in the sense of quizzing in the muscles to bring relief,but it was more focused on the touch it self,so I had to keep a very lightweight touch and make sure that only my finger tips(and occasionally my finger nails if I wanted to) touched his skin lightly.

When I reached his back thighs I notice Roman shifting his weight ever so slightly.

*Oh thank God,I’m doing this right!* I thought to myself relieved.

I dripped more wax,now,onto his perfect round ass and lower back.As I begin working out the wax and spreading it I heard a deep,low,almost inaudible,growl leave his lips and I couldn’t help but smile to myself.I let my finger nails just lightly roam his ass,lower back and side hips.I was so lost in the action that I was caught by surprise when a loud moan left Roman’s lips.

“Y/N..”

I grabbed the candle again and repeated the same process but now on his middle and upper back,shoulders,in the back of his arms and forearms,the palm of his hands,his fingers,neck and ears.

When I reached his head,I lightly dive my finger tips through his hair so I could reach his scalp and begin lightly massaging it,as if I was washing his hair,when I very lightly scratched his scalp I heard a very familiar sound

“Mmmmm fuck,oh shit...Mmmmm”

*Hold on..did he just? Oh I know THAT sound,I think he came!* I thought to myself

I lightly tapped his shoulder twice(a sign for him to turn onto his back) and when he did I could see that I was right,as there were evidences of his cum not only on his stomach but also on the yoga mat,and his deliciously thick erection resting on his belly.

I placed a cushion under his hips and one under the back of his head before I repeated the same previous actions.Starting from the soles of his feet,working my way up his shin,knees,thighs,lower abdomen,hips,abdomen,ribs,chest,nipples,side of the neck,face,front shoulders,biceps,forearm and the front of his hands.

Once I got up and placed myself on the mat,between his legs, I looked at him and I could swear that in 7 years,I’ve never seen that man with such a wild,primal,raw,luscious look on his face.

“Ro?”

“Hm?” I’ve never heard his voice so rough before

“We’re going to the last step now,ok?”

“Mhmm” was all he answered with his gaze glued to my face

I dripped some wax onto my hands and rub them together to spread it.

I took his length into my left hand,lightly squeezed the base of his cock and started to pull my hand up towards the head until my hand slides off,just so I could grabbed it with my right hand and repeat the same steps.

“Oh my fucking God” He rolled his eyes to the back of his head “ Sweet fucking Christ,Oohhh fuuuck” He moaned with a raspy voice.

I took the opportunity to massage the head of his cock in a orange juicer motion.

“Argh” He deeply growled,snapped his eyes open and look at me with a deadly look on his face “Fuck me Y/N! I need you to fuck me right now! Come here and ride me nice and hard baby”

“But Roman,I’m not done ye-“

“I don’t give a fuck!” He gritted “I need you,and I need you right now! Just come here,and put my cock inside that sweet tight pussy baby” He smirked in an almost demonic way and I immediately straddle his hips.

Once I lined his cock to my entrance he quickly thrusted inside of me,making me gasp.

While he gave sometime to adjust he said

“Oh it feels good to be home!” He chuckled

“Baby girl, I don’t know what you did or how,but we’re definitely gonna be doing this more often!” He smiled deviously before he holded my hips in place so he could fuck me like a maniac.

“Oh Ro,fuck”

I’ve never felt him so thick,so deep and so hard inside of me.He was fucking me at a pace so brutal that it was almost deliciously painful.

He grabbed my wrists from his chest and rapidly tugged me down so our chests were glued to each other’s,he took the opportunity to ferociously kiss my lips while he preceded to fuck me brutally.

“Ro,baby,I’m gonna-“

I couldn’t even finish my sentence,because my orgasm hit me so hard that I couldn’t even breathe properly.

“Oh fuck me baby! So fucking tight...so warm...” He gritted “So insanely wet”

With that I could feel his cock throbbing and the hot spurts of his cum inside of me.

When he released his last spurt,we look at each other’s eyes and shared the most passionate loving kiss.When we broke the kiss I said

“I love you Ro,so much”

“With your heart,body and soul?” He lightly smiled,remembering his own words said to me on our wedding vows.

I smiled back before answering without a doubt

“With all of my heart,my whole body and my only soul”

And it was in that moment that I knew I couldn’t have picked a better surprise for the owner and of my heart,body and soul.

#roman reigns imagine #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns one shot #roman reigns #wwe imagine #wwe one shot #wwe fanfiction #masochist writes

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plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms · 3 years

Text

Those Linked by Destiny (2)

Summary: Bucky, Sam, and Natasha are on a mission to once again defeat Hydra who this time had opened a time portal that unleashed monsters and beasts that were extinct for centuries for good reason. On the way, they try to recruit the only remaining person who had any knowledge on how to defeat these creatures. Her kind also almost extinct. A Witcher.

Fandoms: Avengers, The Witcher

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Witcher!OFC (Female)

Warnings: Angst (coz this is me), Dry Dark Humour, Violence, Gore, Lots of Blood, Burning Sarcasm, Lots of Cussing

A/N: Hello, beautiful creatures! I’m back with a new hurricane of a crossover. This continues on from my completed series There’s More Than One Way To Start An Apocalypse (AvengersxSupernatural) but this can be read by itself. I made this an OFC instead of an xReader since I needed to be specific with how the Witcher character looked. I hope you enjoy and I welcome all kinds of feedback.

No permission is granted to repost my work. Tumblr is the only place I post my writing. If you see it anywhere else please report it.

Masterlist

2: Terms of Payment

Sam woke with a start taking loud deep breaths, his lungs feeling like they were burning. His hands began patting his naked torso urgently as he remembered that he had been severely injured. He found no traces of injury though aside from the dried blood that should have accompanied open wounds.

What sorcery was this?

His companions were alerted by the sudden noise that broke the peaceful silence. Bucky quickly jumped to his feet off of the sofa he had been sleeping on and knelt at his friend's side to carefully check him. Natasha almost fell off the arm chair she had folded herself into, choosing to forego the comfortable king size bed upstairs in favor of being nearer to her team. Prima slowly straightened her back in her corner, not even bothering to open her eyes.

"Sam! How are you feeling?" Bucky said gripping his shoulder and staring at him intently.

His eyes snapped to Bucky. He had been so disoriented and out of it that he hadn't even checked his surroundings first. He mentally scolded himself for that.

"I feel fine. I think," he answered still feeling confused as to how exactly he was fine. He was feeling better than fine as if his injuries had not happened at all. His attention was stolen when a small vial landed softly on his blanketed lap.

"Drink it."

He blinked at the complete stranger comfortably stretched out six feet from him that he hadn't even noticed until she spoke. There was something about the commanding tone that made him follow her instruction without question. He choked and spluttered on the liquid when she opened her eyes and met his.

"What the damn hell?"

Natasha swatted the back of his head making him flinch. "Don't be rude. That's Prima. She saved your sorry ass."

"Wait. You're Prima?"

She smirked, a gesture that oddly made a shiver run down Sam's spine. There was such a sharp disturbing contrast between her playfully colorful outer appearance and the cold almost malicious expression she wore.

"Sorry to disappoint," she drawled.

"Disappoint isn't exactly the word I would use."

She chuckled lightly before eyeing Natasha. "I have fulfilled my end of the agreement. Your friend is alive and well and this should consider us even. You may leave in the morning."

She pulled herself to her feet causing the cat to jump off her lap. She intended to make her way up to her bedroom to sleep off the rest of the night, but was halted by three sets of serious eyes boring into her. She read Natasha's expression and sighed in defeat.

"What?"

"We need your help, Prima," Natasha said, a soft plea in her tone.

"I was under the impression that I had already helped," she grunted. "What is this really about?"

"Hydra," Bucky said simply, the disgust in his voice apparent.

Prima rolled her eyes. "No. Hydra is your problem. Hydra is an Avengers problem, not mine."

Natasha shook her head and stared at her in worry. "This time is different, Prima."

Prima held her finger up to stop the conversation urgently as her ears picked up a sound that she had not heard for over two centuries now. It was a low rumbling malicious growl followed by a howl that pierced the night.

"What the hell was that?" Bucky whispered under his breath, his sensitive hearing picking up what the Witcher had.

Two more howls interrupted the night. Distinct. Angry. Out for blood. There was more than one.

"Werewolves," Prima said picking up her axe nonchalantly and making her way to her potions. "At least three."

She picked up a bottle and a rag from the shelf. Bucky looked on curiously as she soaked the rag with the contents of the bottle and began casually wiping it on the blades of her axe. The roar grew close enough that Sam and Natasha were able to hear it. They were closing in.

All three Avengers sat ram rod straight, their bodies automatically tense and at attention at the impending threat. Bucky scowled at how unbothered and unrushed Prima appeared.

What the hell was she doing polishing her weapon now of all times?

The Winter Soldier grunted as he stood up and made his way out of the backdoor. Sam and Natasha were following close behind with their own weapons at the ready by their sides.

"Sera taught us how to deal with werewolves. We got this," Sam affirmed to the team as they stepped out into the chill of the late night.

The growls grew louder and out from the thicket of trees emerged three towering werewolves like they've never seen before. Much taller than humans even in their hunched stance, bulky and all muscle, long sharp claws, and topped off by a snarling wolf head. It was a disturbing twisted blend of human and wolf. It was nothing like the werewolves that they had seen. These were more monstrous, more vicious, more detached from their humanity. They were also fast approaching.

"What the fuck?" Natasha breathed taking a step back.

The three of them were so preoccupied trying to process the scene in front of them that they didn't register Prima coming from behind them until she stood a few steps in front with her axe comfortably hooked over her shoulder out of habit.

The three werewolves let out a threatening collective roar before charging as a unit toward the house. The Avengers were on high alert at the movement, but Prima remained unbothered in her stance.

"Prima, watch out!" Sam yelled over the heavy thumping of wolf feet. He gripped his shield and got ready to toss it straight through their necks.

Prima answered by turning her head to show them her profile which had a chilling smirk on it. She lifted her arm out with her fingers in a peculiar formation as the monsters rushed forward. A single word escaped her lips.

"Ignis."

Jesus fuck!

Bucky stared wide eyed and open mouthed as a wide angry stream of blazing fire blasted from her outstretched hand and burned through the werewolves. They were in the middle of screaming in pain when she launched herself at them swinging her axe over her head and efficiently slicing through one clear through its neck.

She gripped her axe this time with both hands and pulled it apart to transform it to two separate axes held comfortably in each hand. She swung both in a deadly dance of glinting metal that quickly sliced through the remaining werewolves. Prima turned around to face them with her alabaster face and sunny dress splattered with blood, her pupils narrowed, her lips curved in a smug smile, and her dripping axes hung by her sides. The soft glow of the moon only served to highlight the maniacal glint in her eyes.

Bucky thought she looked hauntingly beautiful.

She sauntered back to them as she clicked the axes back together and hooked it as usual over her shoulder. She wiped the blood from her free hand on her dress which served to only smear the carnage already on there.

"Grab the shovels from the greenhouse. This area is private property but we must burn and bury the bodies in case the townspeople happen upon them."

Sam and Bucky nodded before ducking back to retrieve the shovels. Natasha went back inside as well and returned shortly to hand a towel to Prima who was now cleaning up as best she can with the garden hose. They both made their way to the men who had now begun to dig near the dead werewolves. The cat had exited the house and followed closely behind its master sensing that it was now safe.

There was a long moment with no words exchanged as they all focused on the task at hand. It went by much faster with all four of them working together. The men were rolling the werewolves into the pit when Natasha decided to break the tension.

"Didn't take you for a cat person."

Prima snorted but smiled as she stroked the cat's head that had decided to perch on her shoulders. "The eyes not give it away?"

Sam dumped some gasoline in the hole and threw a lit lighter in with it. The fire caught immediately but Bucky thought to himself that the flames weren't as magnificent as those from Prima. Natasha shifted from one foot to another trying to decide how to start the conversation she needed to have. Her target this time had already rejected her initial request for help. She would have to reconsider her approach. Prima decided to make the choice for her.

"Would you like to discuss inside or would you like us to roast marshmallows over the fire first?"

Natasha frowned at the joke made in poor taste, but the Witcher seemed to be further amused by her reaction. She tilted her head toward the cabin signalling them all to go inside leaving behind them the raging bonfire.

The Avengers and the Witcher sat around the dining table with each of them clutching a fresh cup of coffee in their hands. It was their second cup already as they debriefed her on what had been happening. Sera had undone the Snap. The Hunters together with the Avengers had defeated a divine threat. Now Hydra had somehow been able to open a time portal and unleashed all the monsters from her time.

"Fuck," Prima growled and pinched the bridge of her nose as she felt the migraine creeping in. "I spent 400 fucking years by myself driving every single one of those things into extinction. Enough to take it down to a level that Hunters would be sufficient to handle them."

"Excuse me? 400 years?" Sam asked, his disbelieving expression matching that of Bucky's beside him.

"How bad is this?" Natasha asked ignoring the other two, her own frown prevalent on her lips. Prima sighed.

"There is a reason why at one point Witcher was a flourishing profession. Witchers were made to go against these beasts and there was a demand that needed to be serviced. I'm the only remaining Witcher. How bad do you think it is?"

"That's exactly why we need your help. You're the only one who knows how to deal with any of these things," Natasha began to plead her case but Prima had a look of immediate revulsion. At that moment, she realized what could potentially convince her.

"We're offering you a contract."

Natasha's words stilled Prima and caused her to raise a curious eyebrow up at her. Witchers traditionally took on contracts most often for eliminating a monster that was terrorizing a village. It was their primary means of making a living and ensured that they would be compensated after the task. Prima can't remember the last time she has been offered a contract. The familiarity was oddly comforting to her.

"Terms of payment?"

"However much you want. Stark will pay it."

The Witcher scoffed, the movement disturbing the cat on her lap. "I've been around for over 700 years, child. I have more money than I have use for."

"Hold on. What??" Sam said his eyes practically bugging out of their sockets.

"Weapons?"

"No. I am partial to my axe."

"A quinjet? Could come in handy since you move around so much," Natasha countered.

"No."

There was a devilish smirk on both the women's faces, enjoying to some extent this back and forth negotiation. Natasha racked her brain for what else she can use to convince Prima to take the contract. She was close to offering up Tony and throw in all of his suits just to get her onboard. Maybe include an Avenger or two in to spice it up.

"Private island? You'll never need to move again."

"No."

"A fuckton of vibranium?"

"Throw in his arm and we got a deal," Prima said cocking her head in the direction of a now very uncomfortable Winter Soldier.

"Why?" Natasha asked completely ignoring the outraged expressions on her teammates face in favor of her curiosity.

The Witcher shrugged. "My porch could use a new wind chime."

Natasha turned to Bucky with a look in her eye that seemed very much like she was willing him to consider it. He fumed and pointed a finger at her in warning.

"Don't you fucking dare, Nat."

Natasha rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air in defeat. "Fine. What do you want, Prima? Name your price."

"I have neither need nor want for anything. I must decline, Natasha. I'm sorry."

The modern style wall clock began to chime softly as it struck twelve midnight as if punctuating the finality of the Witcher's decision. The cat suddenly began to struggle out of her grasp with a discontent hiss. It leaped from her lap but what landed on the hardwood floors were not fuzzy paws but a set of bare feet that were unmistakably human.

Chairs clattered to the floor as the Avengers sprung from their seats and drew their weapons at the sight of this new man who looked to have morphed from being the house cat. Grey eyes and a wide beaming smile accompanied the floppy short brown hair of the newcomer.

He stretched his limbs and groaned at the cracking of his bones bringing him some relief, the V-neck shirt and tight jeans straining at the movements. The bell tied around his neck was the only real indication to the Avengers that this was indeed the cat and that they weren't hallucinating.

"Gods! I thought it would never strike midnight. Do you know how infuriating it is to not be able to comment? A meow can only convey so much."

"Who the fuck are you?" Sam asked raising his shield higher.

Prima had barely moved in her seat at the disturbance, only casually sipping her remaining coffee and waving dismissively at the transformed man.

"Avengers, meet Jaskier. Jaskier, the Avengers."

Jaskier made a low formal bow with all the flair that was standard for his personality. Once straightened, he clapped his hands together and looked excitedly around the room.

"Now that we're introduced, I am pleased to inform you all that we will happily accept this contract."

He slapped a hand across the Witcher's mouth just as she was about to protest. He flashed a cheeky grin at the still confused superheroes while his hand held firmly in place silencing a now sulky Prima.

"What's the plan?"

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