#but like they could always exist on a small scale
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you know the ha ha funny joke tui made about Mastermind doing calculus?? in guide to the dragon world? calculus was only invented in the late 1600s, which would be:
a) solidly in the renaissance (aka not medieval, as we've been led to belive), which does line up with a lot of their technology and social state better than the middle ages.
b) after guns were invented. like after guns as we think of them today are invented. considering dragons are a warfaring species, they would have 100% invented that by now. They could've even been made of metal and readily available, too.
(also even if this isn't a renaissance, a sort of mini-renaissance clearly just happened or is about to happen. like they have doctors who don't kill you more and at least one scientist.)
#wof#wings of fire#cw guns#tw guns#cw firearms#tw firearms#text post#like i guess you could argue that they wouldn't have used guns all that much because dragons are made of fighting and armour#but like they could always exist on a small scale#somebody at least invented them and has one sitting around#i did not mean to talk about dragon firearms so much this is mostly just me complaining about history facts
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barbie discourse annoys me because like the normal person who doesn't hate women part of it just boils down to this movie about a specific doll that is a product of the brand that got the movie made and did huge publicity stunts for it is an advertisement but said as if it's a breakthrough to see that. like. and 1+1 is 2. can we get smarter in here
#like woah the summer blockbuster? that cost millions to make? with the big hollywood starts in it? wouldnt have guessed!#reminds me a bit of when i go to book club and we're discussing a random book by up and coming young usamerican author#and someone's always like but it doesnt uphold a radical politics. like yeah. cause it's about some bitch from iowa#idk it's just looking for things where you would usually not find them and being pissed about it#ignoring the fact that political essays and small scale / counterculture art exist and sometimes things outside of those are just#ploys to make money and books about having a bad day in iowa#and like of course you wont enjoy My Terrible Iowa Day if you want it to be the communist manifesto#and you wont enjoy a blockbuster if you expect it to care about the integrity of art#it's like going to mcdonalds and being pissed they dont have duck#like yes it's an accurate description but it's not an interesting comment. and you could instead tell me about a place that does great duck#but noooo now we have to eat mcdonalds and then spend months discussing the lack of substance of the menu#personal
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Steve wakes up around three or four in the morning almost every night. He’s always careful getting out of bed. Small movements, slow footsteps. Minimal bones cracking. Doesn’t want to wake Eddie. Not that he needs to be this careful because his boyfriend could sleep through several natural disasters (and if someone bothered to wake him in this scenario, he’d put an impotency curse on them or some equally fucked-up shit).
But that’s one of the reasons why they work. Not because of the sad-dick curse thing. They just exist on different sides of the scale. The raging insomniac and the deepest sleeper known to mankind. It balances out in the weirdest possible way.
Still… he’s always careful. Can never be too careful.
Steve doesn’t really do much when he wakes up at this ungodly hour. He sort of walks around their duplex, drinks a glass of water, opens a window to breathe in that pre-sunrise air. It fills his lungs up differently than normal air. At least, it feels like it does.
Like less people are breathing it in. Like he can take up space without feeling selfish. The logic doesn’t really add up but whatever. Concepts like logic and science are overrated at four in the morning.
After another lap around the place, he slides back into the covers, drapes an arm over Eddie’s waist. His t-shirt is rumpled up to his chest, so Steve is met with linen-warm skin. His fingers curve into Eddie’s sides, pulling himself closer.
Steve yawns, breathing out all of his pre-sunrise air. Inhales the scent of his boyfriend instead. Smiles like an idiot into the pillow because it’s totally a fair trade.
And Eddie… well, he doesn’t even budge - doesn’t even stir when Steve settles in next to him. He just continues to wheeze through his nose, mouth slightly open. Not quite a snore, but Steve will probably tease him about it in the morning regardless.
This right here. This makes Steve’s shitty sleep cycle worth it.
The sun pokes through the window blinds. Eddie pokes Steve’s cheek. Too much poking going on for Steve who definitely didn’t get enough sleep, per usual.
“You got up last night.” Eddie mumbles, still lazily poking him.
“How’d you know?”
“Bed felt different.”
Oh. The way Eddie says it. A crash of honesty. His voice sounds weathered, unused from sleeping. Barely awake. It sort of hits Steve’s heart like a crime he didn’t even know he was capable of committing.
Honestly, he doesn’t get why last night would be any different. Steve gets up most nights, not just last night. But Eddie looks particularly wounded by this (new) realization, so Steve probably shouldn’t point that out right now. Maybe in the afternoon when Eddie is more alert. Less… offended.
“Well, I’m back now.” Steve grabs Eddie’s index finger, the one poking him, and places it over his own lips. Bites at it gently till Eddie pulls away in protest. He’s smiling as he swears. Lets out a string of half-hearted threats about how he’s gonna pour Steve’s hair supplies down the sink for such a vicious attack.
It’s a little irresistible when Eddie gets like this. When he’s the pouty one instead of Steve. All he can think to do is reach out, curl his hand underneath Eddie’s chin and pull him in. Eddie moves so easily, gives up his one-sided fight long enough to kiss Steve. Hands running up his back, legs hooking around Steve’s thighs.
Drowsy, morning kisses are so good. So, so good. Their lips feel heavier, their motions feel thicker. Every touch is guided by pure need. Steve fucking needs this, to feel Eddie curving into him, arms framing his own, groaning every damn time they break away. It all makes Steve feel needed too. Needed by the guy who changed the trajectory of his life by asking Steve to ‘hang out or something’ two years ago.
Or Something turned out to be absolutely everything.
“New rule.” Eddie huffs, drags his lips down Steve’s jaw. “For every hour you spend awake during the night, you owe me.”
Steve laughs. “I owe you, huh?”
“Mhmm. You owe me an extra hour of wallowing in bed together in the morning.”
“What about work?”
“The hours will have to rollover, I guess. Accrue interest.” Eddie lifts up from Steve’s neck, eyebrows raised. Clearly having too much fun with this. “We can hash out the details over coffee and burnt toast.”
Typically, Steve would play along, continue the little comedy routine that Eddie starts up. But he’s so damn tired from the lack of sleep and early fucking wake-up call. So instead, he tugs Eddie back down by his collar and whispers, “Whatever you say, baby.”
Because that’s what it boils down to. He’d do anything for Eddie to kiss him this deep, till their lips blister and their jaws ache. Steve would give every fragment of lovesick happiness in his heart, just to hear the way Eddie says his name all breathy and raw.
He can’t say that out loud, dear god no. Eddie would mock his ass into next century. So Steve just hums into Eddie’s mouth, twists the collar of his shirt enough to permanently wrinkle it. They’re verging into that gray area between cable-approved makeout sessions and dry humping till the alarm goes off. If there wasn’t an alarm to worry about, Steve would already have Eddie’s boxers already his ankles and moaning his name the way he likes it best.
Whoever invented alarm clocks are the ultimate boner-killer.
Steve ducks his head into the crook of Eddie’s neck, lays a few quick kisses on top of his shoulder. Hopes that translates to, ‘I wanna suck you off till there’s nothing left, but I’m a boring fucking adult with a boring fucking job.’
The translation must be clear enough because Eddie rolls off of him and heads to the bathroom. Seems just as grumpy about it as Steve. Good. They can be cranky together.
When he comes back out, they get ready for their respective work shifts. Steve looks over, watches Eddie struggle with a tangled portion of his hair, before giving up. Accepting defeat way faster than Steve ever would. “Uh, Eddie?” He tries his best to hide his snickering through the question.
“Yeah?”
“Why does it matter if I wake up sometimes?” Okay. Most times.
“You’re gone.” Eddie shrugs. “Simple as that.”
The reaction is too mellow for Eddie though. Shrugging and dismissiveness? Nah. He’s downplaying the shit out of whatever he’s feeling, and Steve’s not having it.
“What do you mean it’s simple?”
“It’s just… I don’t know. Doesn’t seem fair.” Eddie checks the clock, then sighs. “I want more time.”
More time? More time with Steve or more time in general? Either way, it doesn’t add up. They’re young - they have all the fucking time they could ever want. Also, they live together and have all the same friends. It’s not exactly a logical theory.
Then again, neither is Steve’s ‘pre-sunrise air supply’ theory. None of it makes sense. But at least they’re here. Wanting fresh air and each other. That’s enough logic for a lifetime.
“Hey.” Steve walks over and takes Eddie’s hand. He taps over his ring finger, the one that symbolizes something they can’t have. Not now, not in this society. Still. It means something. So he stares intently at it, rubs over the place where a ring might sit. Thinks that Eddie would pick out something bold. Something gaudy and perfectly him.
More time. Steve gets it, he does. He releases Eddie’s hand and nods. Smiles.
“I’ll steal us as much time as I can, Eddie Munson.”
#steddie#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#this is the first little thing I've written since submitting my Big Bang draft#it’s a lot softer than my normal stuff but hey#insomnia writing do be like that sometimes#(so yeah - I projected my sleep problems onto Steve)#(and yeah - I projected my tangly hair onto Eddie)#let me liveeeeeeee
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Lunari Heritage in Zaun
This is gonna be a reach, but from the little we've seen of Vi and Jinx's mom and younger Silco, I'd guess they were both from the same ethnic group.
In a place like Zaun, where the people are left with scraps, any piece of jewelry sticks out. Vi's mom and Silco are both wearing similar pieces of jewelry. Silco's bracelet could likely be fitted as a necklace since it twice wraps over his wrist. Neither are wearing anything of high quality, but the necklace and bracelet in their respective pictures seem decently maintained if not worn. That's when I thought, these are probably heirlooms.
In fact they looked pretty similar too, but in smaller scale of the princess's own pendants. I wouldn't bring this up if it weren't for the fact that Piltovans prioritize elaborate art-deco aesthetics, the more elaborately geometric the better (Councilor Shoola). So you would assume even the simplest jewelry would be a square pendant or a straight line. But no, big plain circles, and then I remembered we saw that before, on the princess Ambessa killed. Big bronze circles.
And when we look at young Vi , you notice that she's wearing jewelry too. A simple necklace with a green (it looks green) gem. And I realized that the princess's necklace was also adorned green gems.
I'm pulling from scraps, but it's interesting that small things these Zaunites have to adorn themselves (though not for long with the time skips) are similar versions if not simpler version's of the princess's.
At first I thought this meant that many of the cast were actually of Ionian descent. But then in the Princess's scene a thought kept coming back to me, "Why is Mel wearing purple?". Mel, a skilled diplomat from a young age, typically wears the main colors of the nations she hosts and is hosted by. White for Piltover, Black for Noxus (Ambessa), and always with her signature accents of gold. So if Mel followed her mother to Ionia ,where green is a culturally significant color, why purple? It's because Mel and Ambessa weren't in Ionia, they were in Targon fighting the Lunari.
The Lunari are Rakkor tribal people in the Targonian region who worship the moon, and are persecuted for it by the Solari, the religious order that worships the sun. While technically Mt. Targon is influenced by Mt. Olympus and Greek mythology aesthetic, that's more the case for the Solari. Overtime the Lunari aesthetic has been mixed it's originally nomadic culture with East Asian influences. The prominent colors of the Lunari happen to be turquoise, silver, black and purple. It was such a little thing to remember but it made me see connections I hadn't thought about.
Suddenly everything starts to connect. The bronze coins represent the 3 moons that exist in Arcane's Runeterra. How do we know there are 3 moons, because the Valdiani piece Jinx stole was depicting their planet. In the Valdiani there are 3 orbits circling the Earth, meaning 3 moons (or satelites). Now the engraving on the gold of the princess's necklace makes sense, because it's supposed to resemble the gates at the peak of Mt. Targon. The pendant itself is shaped like the mountain with the gates fitted at the top.
Frankly, it works for the Princess to have been Lunari and waves of descendants of the Lunari to arrive in Piltover and end up in Zaun. In Arcane, Piltover was created as a safe haven to escape the Rune Wars 200 years from the start of the show. Even after the Rune Wars ended the shipping port has likely seen waves of migrant labor and refugees from the ongoing crisis that occur in Runeterra (*cough*Noxus*cough*). It's likely that many of the current generation of Zaunites are of mixed heritage of the various fleeing people's.
It creates a whole new dynamic of the ways in which Piltover's laws, their Ethos, strips the people of Zaun from their identity and reducing them to tools for the mines. Magic is inherently a part of religious ceremonies and religion in general in Runeterra, especially for the Lunari. How do you practice your religion in a place that has banned the means by which it's conducted? There must have been more people like the Lunari who didn't have a problem with their magic, their problem was that they were being persecuted.
The remnants of family keepsakes brought over as communities fled were clung to as best as possible especially as they had to let go of part their spiritual identity. But even that doesn't seem to have lasted either. Vi doesn't keep her necklace, her mother is dead, so lost is her necklace, and we never see Silco wear his bracelet. They could have been stolen, or at best, hidden for safe keeping, maybe Enforcers get suspicious at the hint of mysticism and suddenly they want to talk.
Finally, maybe a little less related, it is interesting how prominent Piltovans and Zaunites take on day and night aspects. The sun shines over Piltover at their best, begins to set at times of uncertainty. While in the cover of night with moon above, the strongest Zaunites strike hardest. One more thing, it is interesting how Arcane's Jinx has taken on darker tones of purple rather than stick with neon pink. I always have to go back and look at a reference to remember that her pants are purple-er than I recall.
Update: I wanted to include that the large doodle Jinx made on her cup actually looks similar to the Lunari's sigil. And the sigil remains on the cup into the timeskip, also the center moon is made smaller within the crescent like in the necklace. I also noticed Jinx's cup later has more violent bomb imagery around it.
#arcane#lunari#zaun#silco#vi arcane#jinx arcane#mel medarda#there's a lot to think about#for everyone including mel#piltover#arcane theory#arcane meta#arcane speculation
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thoughts on anarchism?
The anarchists I've met IRL, especially while organizing, have been some of the most wonderful comrades and I wouldn't hesitate to work with them again. I'm sure there's many online too who're just like them. I do admire how quickly they are willing to use direct action, even if it's not the best tactic to be used or the only means to an end. Some anarchist ideas, while not necessarily achievable on a large scale, are certainly is very helpful for short term, small scale survival, like mutual aid for example.
Anarchism as an ideology though, I do have strong disagreements with. When I was first dipping my toes into studying political-economy, I had a very brief time where I was following both anarchist and marxist accounts and forums. And often, when I asked the marxists a question about how things would or potentially could work, they could point to real examples as much as they could theoretical ones, and they could point out the pros and cons of their own systems. But when I asked anarchists similar questions, there was generally a kind of hesitancy or wishy-washiness or vagueness which I really didn't get from the marxists. As a poc, I remember a black man had asked anarchists what the solution to a group of racist factory workers voting him out of their work force was and no one had any answers beyond, "well at that stage you really wouldn't expect racism on that level". But the marxists would say racism is a social ill that takes time to combat, even after the revolution thus the proletarian state exists to ensure cases like that are investigated and corrected. A more poignant example would be like the Chinese trans woman who sued her former place of work for firing her for being trans and the state sided with and supported her rights. In some ways, I think I was always inevitably going to go down the marxist route given my family background, but that's not to say I didn't give anarchism a fair shot in the beginning.
More theoretically, the roots of anarchism has always been deeply entwined with petite bourgeois ideology. Similar to liberalism, it supposes that the liberation of the collective comes from the liberation of the self. That's not to say anarchists are liberals (well, actual anarchists anyway), but rather, has been influenced by a deeply individualistic ideology like liberalism. The reason we marxists tend to call anarchists idealists can mainly stem from our biggest disagreement, which is the utilization of the state. It's unreasonable to destroy the greatest tool a class has in the class war once that class gets its hands on it, especially since the bourgeoisie have no qualms about using it as a bludgeon against the proletariat. The state has always been used as a mediator for class warfare and whichever class controls it controls the arbitration on class conflict. Like it or not, revolution, just like the construction of socialism, will come at different times with different arising conditions for every country. It's simply not enough to rely on hopes of either a total revolution or to defend your own revolution without the tools provided by a state. After the October Revolution, the nascent USSR was invaded by over 20 foreign countries and they threw them all out. During the second world war, more than 4 million fascists were killed on the eastern front and the Red Army marched into Berlin in the end. Both feats would be impossible without strong state apparatuses. There's more to it than just this, of course. If you want, you can read a (admittedly, pretty scathing) critique by J.V. Stalin, Anarchism or Socialism?, for some more detailed information.
My last point is that in many online spaces, there's no doubt a big overlap between radlibs and anarchism or at the very least, anarchist aesthetics. I can't tell you how many times I've been called some slur or 'tankie' or some variation of the two by someone presenting themselves to be anarchist who then turn around and say the most unbelievably liberal talking points. I've now come to realize that the reason for this overlap is two-fold. The first is that in liberal democracies, where individualism is extremely strong and thus anarchism, as a more individualistic ideology, appeals more to radlibs. The second is that anarchism is very easily marketable, even more so than marxism. These two kind of go hand-in-hand as well.
In the west and usamerica in particular, we don't have much of a choice in regards to who we side with and I would actually take an anarchist comrade over the "queering the MIC" libs in the DSA or whatever. I'll still jest about about anarchism tho.
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I Love You, Malleus... But You're Not Mine...
Word Count: 9862
Female Reader
Genre: Angst
The dragon fae was torn.
He knew that he would have to be wed to someone soon in order to inherit the crown.
Also… his grandmother was nagging him to marry someone because she was growing older and she wanted to see her only grandson be married.
The only issue was that no one in Briar Valley really managed to capture his eye nor his heart. They all wanted to be married to him either for his money or power, or to escape their families.
Actually, some of them did not wish to be married to him and were in love with someone else entirely, and he granted them liberty to marry who they wished.
Malleus was torn.
So, he went to do what he always did whenever he was torn.
He walked over the bridge and through the woods.
In the woods, he would talk to himself and to the trees and animals. The wintertime meant that there was also snow and ice upon the ground. When that happened, the moonlight would reflect off of the glittery surface of the snow. It offered peace to Malleus to see the view.
Well, now was a better time than any to practice his vows.
He took out the ring that he had in his coat pocket, turning it over and over with his fingers, contemplating.
“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.”
He lifted his hand, palm up, as though he were actually marrying someone beside him. He stepped forward three times as he said the line.
“Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.”
There was no real cup, so he just summoned a chalice with his magic and a bottle of wine. He was above the age limit for consuming alcohol in public, so it was alright. He poured the aged liquid into the cup, and then took a sip from the cup. Of course, his bride would then also sip from the cup right after. However, there is no bride as of right then.
“With this candle, I will light your way in darkness”.
He took a twig from a nearby tree and acted as though it were a candle. In the specific spot he was in, there was a tree stump that acted as the podium at an altar. On it was a small piece of bark that he used as the ‘flame’ with which he was to light the candle.
Then, he set the twig down.
“With this ring, I ask you to be mine.”
In retrospect, the prince was asking himself why he didn’t ponder the curiously skeletal shape of the branch he placed the ring upon. However, it didn't matter, as the wind started whirling around him. Leaves started making a small-scale tornado around the branch on which he placed the ring… until a woman stood in the center.
She was as radiant as she was dead.
Her skin, or rather, where it existed upon her body, was smooth. One of her hands had no skin on it at all and was all bone. In the bodice of her wedding dress, he could see her ribcage. She was wearing a veil over her head, attached to a crown of flowers arranged in a multitude of different shades of blue. Peaking out of the tulip-cut skirt of her wedding dress was her skeletal leg. She was wearing white heels. In her hands, she held a bouquet of blue flowers, similar to her crown.
Understandably, Malleus was entranced but kind of frightened by the corpse he was seeing before him. His flight or fight response had not kicked in yet, not until he heard her whisper two words:
“I do.”
She then reached out towards him and started walking to him. The dragon prince, who had gone even paler than he already was, stayed still.
As she got closer and closer, he saw how the moonlight enhanced your figures, and he felt his heart beating faster. The woman leaned in, to the point where her nose was grazing against his.
“You may kiss the bride.”
Then everything went black.
~~~~~~~~
It took him a while to wake back up, and when he did he was in for it.
“Oh, look! He must have fainted. Are you alright?,” he heard the woman ask as he started to open his eyes.
“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a breather!” A skeleton man said.
“He’s still soft!” A skeleton boy exclaimed while jabbing at the prince’s torso with a stick. Malleus backed up into the bar, unsettled by what was going on around him.
Two skeletons dressed as soldiers clinked their beer steins toasting to the “newlyweds”.
“Newlyweds?” Malleus was quite confused as to what they were talking about. He stood up, trying to take in his surroundings.
“In the woods, you said your vows so perfectly,” she had a dream-like tone in your voice as she showed him the ring he had placed on your bony hand.
“I did, didn’t I?” Further leaning against the bar, he rubs his temples as though he were trying to remember something. Then he heard little legs crawling on the bar itself.
He turned to see a walking head along with a few cockroaches. His eyes widened in silence as he backed away from the bar.
“Hello, my name is Paul! I am the head waiter, hehehe,”... the head was speaking. “I will be creating your wedding feast!”
All of a sudden, Malleus felt something hit the shoulder she was standing next to. When he turned to see what it was, a maggot was peeking out of her eye…’s socket. Her eye was, in fact, now on the floor.
“Wedding feast?! I am salivating,” the maggot said.
She gasped as she covered your eye socket, clearly embarrassed that it happened. She tried laughing it off, but it was a bit too late.
Now, to be fair, he recognized that he must be in a land of the dead. After all, there were skeletons all around, and his supposed bride was a decaying corpse. However, that did not leave him at peace. He was actually more disturbed when he came to that realization.
He squeezed out from between her and another skeleton and started creeping back in the other direction. He eventually reached the soldier skeletons, and that’s when he saw that one of them was impaled with a sword. He unsheathed it and turned on everyone.
“I need some answers before we proceed with anything. What’s going on here? Where am I? Who are you?”
She stepped forward and started fidgeting with her hands before saying, “It’s kind of a long story.”
“What a story it is…” a voice from the shadows on the stage emerged. “A tale of romance, passion, and a murder most foul.”
“This is gonna be good.” The skeleton who was formerly impaled by the sword Malleus was holding right now spoke, gently taking back the sword.
“Hit it, boys.”
~~~~~~~~
One catchy but macabre musical number later, Malleus understands where he is. A few of the people down here were people he recognized. Old fae folks and humans alike rejoiced with each other, and it was beautiful to see. There was no judgment between the two species, which means a lot of them died prior to the war.
Well, they were dead. There would be no point in harboring resentment towards each other if you’re stuck with each other forever anyway.
Anyways, her story made him angry. How dare that man turn her down?! She was beautiful and kind, and all she wished for was to be a bride. Even though it had only been a day, Malleus found himself drawn to her. In fact, right at this moment, they were walking arm-in-arm to the cliff to gaze over the town.
The sight was beautiful. The moonlight made its appearance again, and the dragon prince breathed in the night air.
“Isn’t it beautiful? It takes my breath away…” The woman let go of his arm and twirled, her veil trailing after her.
“...Well, it would if I had any,” She giggled before sitting down on a bench, patting the seat next to her. He, with gentle steps, made his way and sat down next to her. “Isn’t it romantic?”
“If you wouldn’t mind, I would love to have your name. After all, I do believe a groom should have the name of his bride,” Malleus stated after a moment of silence.
Well, that’s a great way to start a marriage.
“Shh… Shut up!” The woman hit her temples before smiling at him. “It’s Y/N.”
“My name is Malleus Draconia, prince and crowned heir of the Briar Valley.” Her eyes widened in shock at his response.
“Oh, I almost forgot! I have something for you!” She pulled out a box and placed it in his lap with care, taking the required measures so as to not startle him. Not to worry, as he was quite excited about receiving a gift from his… wife? She then whispered something, “It’s a wedding present”.
He lifted the neatly wrapped box up to his ear and shook it gently, seemingly trying to find out what could be inside. The corpse beside him let out a small gasp of shock before recovering with a smile.
Once he unwrapped the bow and opened the box, he saw a bunch of bones… including a skull. Malleus immediately recognized it to be a stray dog that he found in his youth. Growing up isolated meant that he hadn’t many friends, so when a dog made its way to him in the forest, who was he to turn it down?
The lid clasped itself back onto the box out of nowhere and started rumbling in the prince’s lap before falling to the ground. Then it went still before the lid burst open and out jumped a skeletal dog, barking and everything.
“Samson?” Malleus asked, wondering if the dog could hear him. The cadaverous canine jumped into his friend’s lap, excited to be reunited. “Samson! My dog, Samson!”
“I knew you’d be happy to see him.” The woman beside him exclaimed. The prince had nearly forgotten about her presence.
“Who’s my good boy? Sit. Sit, Samson, sit!” At his owner’s command, the dog sat down.
“Good boy, Samson. Roll over. Roll over!!!” Now, the way that the dog did it was quite unusual. His head remained upright as the rest of the body rolled over.
“Play dead.” The dog let out a whine when Malleus realized his mistake. Both recovered, and Samson jumped into his wife’s lap instead.
“Awww, what a cutie!” She exclaimed.
After a few seconds of quiet between the newlyweds, save for Samson’s panting, Malleus spoke.
“My grandmother did not approve of me keeping a stray. Nor did Lilia,” Malleus trailed off, remembering from his childhood that he hadn’t any friends apart from the staff who were forced to play with him.
“Would she have approved of me?” His bride asked.
“I would very much like to think so, but I wouldn’t know… What if we were to go meet her?” He proposed.
“That sounds wonderful! Where is she buried?” She asked with enthusiasm and excitement in her tone. It pained him to be the bearer of bad news.
“I am afraid that they are still with life, my dearest,” He lowered his head, a bit embarrassed and thus focusing on Samson.
“Hmm… that is a problem…” The corpse bride brought her hand to her chin in thought, wondering how they could get to the Land of the Living.
Then, Samson started barking at you.
“No, we couldn’t possibly,” Luckily, Malleus was well-versed when it came to speaking with animals, but he did not know who ‘Elder Gutknecht’ was.
“Well, if you put it like that…” She was responding to the dog, as though she was having a full conversation with him.
“Who is ‘Elder Gutknecht’?”
“He is the person everyone goes to when they have matters concerning the living realm. Now come, dear husband,” the woman held her hand out, and the prince took it, and the pair made their way to the Elder’s room.
~~~~~~~~
“Elder Gutknecht? Are you there?”
If I’m being honest, Malleus has no idea who you both are looking for. Samson is trailing behind the two of you, the three of you moving with grace up the stairs. One thing he noticed was that there were books and candles everywhere. He made sure that he didn’t trip over anything nor make anything fall.
“Is anyone home? Hello?”
Unfortunately, Samson did not take those same precautions and made a pile of books fall over, startling what seemed to be a full murder of crows. The lantern that lit up the place started swaying from the force of wind from the birds’ wings. Then, a hand reached up to steady the lantern.
An old skeleton, coughing, a whisper of a beard on his chin, and half of the top of his skull lifting, made his appearance.
“There you are!” Y/N exclaimed.
Placing his glasses on, the presumed Elder Gutknecht spoke, “Huh? Oh, my dear. There you are.”
“I’ve brought my husband, Prince Malleus Draconia.”
“What’s that? Husband?” The Elder scratched his skull, making the lifting plate lift even more.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Malleus called out, not sure if the skeleton could hear him.
“I believe the pleasure would be mine, Your Highness. After all, it’s not everyday that you find yourself in the presence of living royalty… especially if you’re dead.”
“Anyways,” Y/N butted in, “We need to go up. Upstairs? To visit the Land of the Living.”
“Land of the Living? Oh, my dear,” The skeleton had a disappointed tone in his voice as he started making his way down the stairs that led up to his podium.
“Please, Elder Gutknecht.” The woman clasped her decaying hands together in hope.
“Now, why go up there, when people are dying to get down here?” The elder responded.
“Sir, I beg you to help. It would mean so much to my wife and I.’ A small gasp of shock made its way out of Y/N’s mouth. For so long… she wanted to hear herself be called a wife.
“I don’t know… It’s just not natural.”
“Please, Elder Gutknecht. Surely there must be something you can do?” Y/N took the old man’s hand in hers and looked into his eyes, pleading.
“Hmm… Let me see what I can do.” Elder Gutknecht patted the back of her hand. “Now, where did I put that book?” He then started looking everywhere; in the cabinet, in the drawer, and he started going through his piles and piles of books. That was, until he checked the bookshelf and found the book he was looking for. “There it is.”
On the way back up to his podium, he grabbed three bottles of things akin to potions as well as a chalice, as per Malleus’s guess. A crow was perched up there already, waiting for his master’s commands.
Elder Gutknecht started flipping through the pages of the book, muttering to himself, before he stopped at a certain page.
“I have it.” Y/N let out a gasp of excitement. “A haunting spell of sorts. Just the thing for these quick trips…”
Leaning to the side closer to her husband, Y/N whispered, “So glad you thought of this.”
“Me too, darling.”
The old man took two of the bottles and poured some of the liquid contents into the chalice before taking some ashes out of what the newly married couple realized was an urn and adding them into the concoction. Then, a feather from the crow was added in, and it dissolved immediately. A little cloud of red smoke popped out of the cup, making the skeletal man cough. He took the chalice in his hand, and it looked like he was going to splash it on the two below before he drank all of it.
“Now, then…” He let out a belch. “Where were we?”
“The haunting spell?”
“Ahhh…” He grasped the crow on his podium by the neck and squeezed its stomach, making an egg pop out. Malleus and Samson flinched while Y/N didn’t seem phased.
“Ah, here we have it. Ready? Just remember: When you want to come back, say ‘hopscotch’.”
Y/N giggled at the childishness of the word, asking, “Hopscotch?” with an amused tone.
“That’s it.” He cracked the egg on the podium, and out of the egg came a gas of some sort.
All of a sudden, the married couple found themselves under the moonlight once again.
~~~~~~~~
Back at the palace, everyone was worried. Some of the servants have been fainting from panic…
The prince had vanished.
Queen Maleficia is very close to sending out the entire military that Briar Valley has to go looking for her grandson. General Lilia is separating the soldiers into groups, and assigning those groups to different parts of the Valley. Sir Sebek and Sir Silver are paired together as leaders of two of those groups, going to make their way into the forest section.
It was very unlike Malleus to just vanish without a trace, so everyone figured that he was taken. It also must be someone stronger than him, as you wouldn’t be able to capture the 5th most powerful mage if you didn’t have magic.
The villagers have also joined the search efforts, but there were folktales spreading about the danse macabre. It was All Hallow’s Eve, and a tale passed down for generations was that Death would come up with the dead and dance. Maybe their prince had joined them?
That was what caused the frenzy to begin with. Everyone knew about that tale, and if Malleus had joined the celebration of the dead, then he wouldn’t be seen until the following year.
Lilia gave the order, and Sebek’s squad and Silver’s squad made their way over the bridge and into the woods to go find the dragon prince.
~~~~~~~~
Y/N took in the glow of the moonlight, tears coming to her eyes as she stared at the moon itself for a few moments.
“I spent so long in the darkness, I’d almost forgotten how beautiful the moonlight is.”
At that moment, a butterfly flew past her face, causing her to giggle at its purity and innocence. Malleus also had a grin as he followed the butterfly with his eyes. However, that is when he realized that the butterfly was just as blue as the flowers upon her crown.
Y/N inhaled deeply, before stepping forward and twirling about in the snow. The trail of her mother’s wedding dress as well as her veil almost floated so delicately and gracefully behind her.
“My lady, might you give me this first dance as my wife?” She stopped when she heard Malleus ask, and a tear fell down her cheek as she nodded. He held out his hand to her and she accepted it, being pulled into his chest.
The two of them would have to thank their dance instructors, Y/N from when she was alive, and Malleus from when he was a boy. Sure, the steps they were doing were rehearsed, but the connection that the two felt was real.
Suddenly, Y/N’s skeletal leg snapped, making her fall. Luckily, the bones were only disconnected at the joint, so she easily snapped it back into place.
“Are you alright?” The dragon prince was understandably alarmed, as his magic could do no good upon a dead person. After all, magic is alive itself.
“I am quite so. It happens quite often,” she giggled, a bit embarrassed. Malleus smiled before they continued their waltz in the snow for a few more moments. Then, they walked hand-in-hand over to where Malleus knew would be the road back.
That is when Malleus had an idea.
“What if you were to stay here and I could bring my grandmother to you? I believe everyone would erupt in a ruckus if they saw me walking with a mystery human woman.”
“Ah, that’s right. I was here before the conflict. That should be fine. I will wait right here.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
And so, with that being said, he set off into the forest, alone, on the path he had traversed many times before, to go bring his grandmother to meet his new wife.
~~~~~~~~
About 20 minutes into the journey, Malleus heard something close by.
“THE PRINCE IS HERE! WE FOUND HIM!”
The said prince’s neck snapped toward the direction he heard the voice come from. He recognizes the lady’s voice. She was one of the people that his grandmother had set him up with for marriage, and she was one of the ladies who wanted him for his status.
He heard marching, and he saw his former retainers: Silver and Sebek. In seconds, he was face-to-face with them, the lady mentioned before clinging to his arm.
“Your highness, we have been searching for you for hours! Where have you been?” Silver asked, making sure that the surrounding forest was clear and that the lady was in no danger.
Sebek didn’t say anything. He was moved to tears upon the recovery of the prince, his personal hero, who he revered and worshiped.
“I was strolling through the woods, and I got lost.”
“Sire, with all due respect, I didn’t think it was possible you could get lost,” Silver found the prince’s response to be a bit suspicious, but didn’t think to question him further. After all, he had orders from Queen Maleficia herself to bring her grandson back.
“If you wouldn’t mind, Prince Malleus, we must be taking our leave now,” Sebek bowed down as he stated. He then told Silver that he could take him back while he escorted the lady back to her own manor.
However, as Silver began to lead the way, he noticed that he was not being followed. He looked back and saw that Malleus was looking in the direction from where he came.
Perhaps he did dance with the macabre.
“Your highness?”
Malleus snapped out of his trance before going to follow the knight. This might be an easier way to speak with his grandmother, so he followed Silver.
~~~~~~~~
This is the voice of your conscience… Listen to what I say:
I have a bad feeling about him. You know he is no…
An all too familiar voice made itself known to you, and you rolled your eyes. You reached up to your ear and hit the side of your head, making Maggot shoot out into the cold snow.
“Go chew someone else’s ear for a while. Malleus has gone to get his grandmother, just like he said,'' To say that you were annoyed would be a tiny bit of an understatement. However, you couldn’t help the feeling of loneliness once again drape an arm about your shoulder. You missed your husband already.
“If I hadn’t just been sitting in it, I would say that you had lost your mind!”
“I’m sure he has a perfectly good reason… for taking so long.” You crossed your arms in your lap, letting the doubt get into your decaying mind. Maybe Maggot was right.
“Oh, I am sure that he does. Why don’t you go ask him?”
“Alright, I will.” With that, you stood up, and began to follow your husband’s footsteps, picking Maggot up as you went.
~~~~~~~~
Malleus should have expected this.
His grandmother, Queen Maleficia, had overreacted upon being reunited with her grandson, and locked him away in his room, placing a magical barrier to prevent him from leaving. Not only that, but he had learned that if someone were to find him first, more specifically, the women that the Queen had lined up as his suitresses, they would get his hand in marriage.
One small issue with that: he was a taken man now, and he had no plans in betraying his wife. She was beautiful, a free-spirited person to boot. She knew music and understood the beauty of both human and fae-kind. He was starting to miss her, and while he tried to tell his grandmother, she was not hearing it.
“Oh, Malleus, darling~”
And there was that insufferable voice.
Lady Aerwynn, the lady who had ‘found’ him in the forest originally, was the one set to marry him. She came from a long line of fae nobility, a green flag in his grandmother’s eyes.
To be quite frank, Malleus found her insufferable. She was only looking to gain power and influence, not his love. That’s where he loved his undead bride. She loved him before she even knew his name or title.
“Yes, Lady Aerwynn?”
“Well, soon I am going to be Princess Draconia. But anyways, I was wondering which shade of white would look best with your suit? After all, I need to make a good impression on the people at our wedding!”
“Lady Aerwynn, I need to inform you of something. I already have a bride. I am happily married to someone. Our wedding would be unlawful. If you could go get my grandmother, I can explain everything and you could be free to marry anyone else.”
This seemed to make her upset. Tears started welling up in her eyes as she heard what her ‘fiance’ was saying to her.
“It’s not true! You just don’t want to marry me! Well, I don’t care! We’re getting married, whether you like it or not!”
All of a sudden, the window burst open. A large draft of wind swept through the room, putting out the candles and the fire within the fireplace. Malleus turned to see his wife, his true wife, on the balcony, fixing her veil out of her face. He had never been so relieved to see her.
~~~~~~~~
“My darling, I just wanted to meet-” Once your veil was out of your face, you were able to see your husband with another woman in his arms. However, you quickly brushed it off as the wrong place at the wrong time.
However, the woman let out a gasp of shock at your appearance.
You reached over and grabbed Malleus’s arm to pull him towards you. You wrapped your arm in his, making sure that the strange living woman knew that he was yours.
“Darling? Who is this?” You asked.
“Who is she?”
“I’m his wife.” You extended your hand with the wedding ring on it towards her, letting the moonlight reflect off of the glistening golden band.
“Malleus? What is the meaning of this? You’re not going to marry me because you’re married to a corpse?!” Lady Aerwynn was only getting angrier, as were you.
You felt betrayed. You snatched your arm from Malleus and stared menacingly at the woman.
“Hopscotch.” You snatched your husband’s arm before sinking back outside, a murder of crows flying in a circle around you two until you were back in Elder Gutknecht’s room.
~~~~~~~~
“You lied to me! Just to get back to that other woman!” You shoved Malleus away from you, again feeling betrayed. Emotions came punching you in the face, and you were first experiencing anger.
“You don’t understand, my love. She means nothing to me-”
“Oh, really? Am I preventing your marriage to her? Would you rather be married to her?” Tears were threatening to spill as you interrupted Malleus. “You’re married to me! She’s only the other woman!”
You turned around, not wanting to let him see you cry.
Elder Gutknecht let out a cough before saying, “She’s got a point.”
Through sobs, you were lamenting the early and untimely death of your marriage. “And-And I thought… This was all going so well.” More tears fell. Your eye actually popped out of your skull from the pressure, rolling its way to the dragon prince’s boot.
He bent down and picked it up, giving it a brush against the lapel of his suit so as to clean it up a bit.
“Y/N, darling, you misunderstood everything. I-” He reached out his arm to give you your eye back, and you snatched it quickly.
“It’s my eye, isn’t it?” You popped it back into place.
“No! Your eyes are the most beautiful things I’ve ever had the pleasure of gazing into.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Prince Malleus Draconia.”
“Don’t you see? My grandmother is attempting to wed me with Lady Aerwynn!”
“You should have thought about that before you asked me to marry you.”
“Can’t you see it was a mistake? You were never supp-”
You drowned out the last of the sentence. He thought your marriage to be a mistake. Maybe it was. Maybe Maggot was right, and you were in the wrong. All you wanted was to be a bride, as that dream had been stolen from you before.
Oh, yes. You were to be married to a wealthy fae that you loved so dearly about a century ago. You were one of the human nobility families, but the Wikora family was of lower standing at the time compared to yours. Your parents had forbidden the union for that very reason. Lord Piersym Wikora, to be precise, was the one you were to be married to. He was a mysterious stranger to you, having traveled about to many locations outside of the Briar Valley.
He stole your heartbeat, both literally and figuratively.
You walked off, the memories flooding back as well as the tears. It was time to give up on having a happy marriage, as you figured that matrimony between a dead human and an alive fae could never be compatible.
If only you had heard what he had said.
You were never supposed to see us like that. She wants to ruin my happiness for her own gain.
~~~~~~~~
In a desolate corner in the Land of the Dead, you could be seen sulking. Your veil was hanging upon a random stick of metal sticking out of the ground. You were sitting upon a broken coffin, a bench, if you will.
“Roses for eternal love.”
You reached into your bouquet and snatched a rose head out, letting it drop to the ground in a messy fashion.
“Lilies for sweetness.”
As with the rose, you grabbed a lily and let it drop to the ground.
Upon seeing the third type of flower, you breathed in shakily before whispering the name.
“Baby’s breath.”
You tossed the bouquet away from you, feeling lost on what you were going to do now that your marriage was in shambles. Samson was with you, whining that his two owners were separated.
“Why so blue?” You looked over to see the Widow, someone who you looked up to as a motherly figure. Her six hind legs were lifted up in the air while her other two legs were acting as arms.
“Maybe he’s right. Maybe it was a mistake.”
Maybe he should have his head examined.
You reached into your ear and pulled out Maggot, holding his tail between your pointer finger and thumb.
“I could do it!” Maggot exclaimed.
“Or maybe he does belong with her, Little Miss Living, with her rosy cheeks and beating heart. Plus, she’s a fae. I’m human.”
A heart can break once it’s done beating, you guess.
~~~~~~~~
“It’s true, Your Majesty! Malleus is married to a dead woman!” Lady Aerwynn looked the worse for wear. Her blonde hair was out of place as well as her dress. She looked a mess, and quite like a delusional patient. “I saw her. A corpse! Standing right here with Malleus.”
“I beg your pardon? My grandson… married to a corpse? Are you sure you don’t have a fever, dear?” Queen Maleficia lifted her hand to the girl’s forehead, checking for any unusual warmth.
Yes, she knew of the danse macabre story. However, she did not believe in it. And she refused to believe that her grandson indulged in frivolous tales and thus ran away… especially since he was an adult in fae terms.
“Come here and let me fetch you a blanket. You seem to be a bit feverish, dear.” Maleficia had a servant fetch a wool blanket as she assigned another servant to make sure that Lady Aerwynn didn’t go outside and worry the citizens even more.
Her Royal Majesty tried using her magic to see if she could locate Malleus through sensory magic, but she came up with nothing. He was not even in Briar Valley, but he couldn’t have made it to another land in that short amount of time, especially since she put that spell on his room. So, she started considering the possibility of the danse macabre.
~~~~~~~~
Malleus had been wandering about for a while in search of Y/N. He wished to hear her voice once again, as he felt his heart aching for her.
Sure, it was only during the night that he had gotten to know her, but his draconic instincts were telling him that she was his beloved, the person he was destined to be with for all of eternity, and not even death could part them.
He turned the corner to a street he had walked on before, following Samson who had your bouquet in his mouth. It was the bar where this entire journey started. Where he got to know what had happened to you.
Upon opening the door, he heard the piano playing. It was finely tuned despite being so old. You were sitting at the bench, both your decaying and skeletal hands dancing on the keys. Malleus walked up quietly, placing the bouquet that Samson had given him onto the top of the coffin-style piano.
“I’m sorry, my love. I just wanted you to know that I have no wish to be with her. I am happy with you, not with her. She wants to ruin our happiness to gain power for herself.”
You said nothing, and you continued playing. You were at the lower end of the piano, playing the deeper notes. Malleus joined you on the bench, turning his body towards the higher notes.
His years of learning the piano would come in handy.
To compliment the melody you were playing, he decided to add a more lighthearted spirit by playing a few notes.
That backfired, as you glanced at him with a look of disdain. You turned back to continue playing, but Malleus responded with the higher-pitched notes again.
You watched with an annoyed look on your face, before finishing off the melody.
However, Malleus started another one. He looked at you as he paused for a few seconds, inviting you to join him. And so you did.
Much like the dance you both shared in the moonlight, you were also in-sync with your piano playing. It turned into an expression of the both of you, lighter notes symbolizing life and deeper notes symbolizing death. The song was a motif for the joining of both life and death.
But, you got carried away, and your skeletal hand broke off and continued playing despite the rest of you as well as the entirety of Malleus stopping. You let out a gasp of shock as your hand started dancing about on the keys by itself, running up Malleus’s arm.
Giggles emitted from the both of you, much like children. The dragon fae took your detached hand in his before handing it over.
“Pardon my enthusiasm.”
“I like your enthusiasm.”
You both leaned in a bit as he reattached your hand to your arm. You looked up and into each other’s eyes before-
“NEW ARRIVAL” The bell started sounding, startling you both.
“Lights up!”
Everyone started flooding into the bar. Paul and his cockroaches started pouring drinks.
“Hurry up, boys. Vite, Vite! Bonjour! Bienvenue! Drinks for everyone! Another pint, sir?”
“Oh no, just a half.” The man who ordered completely split in half.
Paul whistled at his roaches, having them bring the beer stein over, which ended up knocking him over.
“It is impossible to get good help anymore!”
Ms. Plum started making her way through the crowd of people.
“Welcoming committee, coming through! Coming through! My name’s Plum. Miss Plum.”
Malleus turned to see who had exactly died, and he recognized the man. He was one of the servants tasked with caring for him when he was a youngling. He had always been on the weaker side, having a horrible cough. He was one of the few human servants still remaining in the castle.
His name was Mr. Nimbus, or Nimbus Redrose. He just grew up calling him Mr. Nimbus because of the stories he would tell.
“Mr. Nimbus? Is that you? It’s wonderful to see you again!”
“Your Highness? Why, everyone’s been worried sick! Well, not me anymore!” The man let out a loud laugh before patting the prince on his shoulder. “You shouldn’t worry about me, though. It was about time I passed.”
“Hurry up, boys! Can you not see the gentleman is parched?!” Paul addressed his cockroaches, exasperated at the slow rate of his staff.
“How is Lady Aerwynn?”
“She was purely hysterical from what I could tell. Her Royal Majesty is concerned for her, but she’s more worried about you.”
“Yes, I do feel horrible that I had taken leave without informing anyone of my whereabouts, but my night has gone better than it ever could have. She was truly insufferable.”
A random drunkard of a skeleton threw his arm around Nimbus, stumbling and slurring about, and he said, “Women; you can’t live with them… You can’t live with-” Then he fell down.
“Well, I guess it’s time for you to pick up the pieces and help them to move on.”
“Speaking of picking up the pieces…” The skeleton from before was on the floor in just a heap of bones, making Malleus amused. He would use his magic, but it didn’t work on the dead. So the poor, drunk skeleton was just left there to sober up.
However, your husband had more concerning matters on his mind. He needed to somehow inform his grandmother that he wished to stay in the Land of the Dead with you. With that, he walked off to start contemplating methods.
“Malleus? Where are you going?”
~~~~~~~~
Queen Maleficia rested her forehead in her hand as she sat upon her throne. This whole day had not gone according to plan.
She was feeling horrible for trying to force her grandson into a marriage that he did not want. However, she wanted to at least give him a push to marry his true love before Lady Aerwynn.
The Wikora family was indeed powerful, as their family came from sprites and faeries directly. Aerwynn Wikora, the daughter’s name, was a faerie herself. She had a way with music that Maleficia found light and airy… much different to the Draconias. However, despite that being her style, her entire family was corrupt. They wanted more power, and they were second only to the Draconia family.
It had frustrated the Wikoras that it had become a trend for the Draconias to pick up human lovers and marry them despite them being taken by death so early. However, as we all know, a dragon must be with their true love in order to truly be happy.
Every so often, a maid would come into the throneroom and update her on Lady Aerwynn’s state. She seemed to be getting a tad better, which was a relief. However, her ramblings set an ounce of doubt in Maleficia’s mind. What if the story of the danse macabre was real? It could be the only explanation.
However, if that were true, then he wouldn’t have turned up in the forest in the first place.
~~~~~~~~
Malleus was walking around once again, as he tended to do when he was in deep thought.
You see, he knew that there was no way he could go back to the living world or else he would be barred from his beloved. But, the Briar Valley would need a king once his grandmother passed the crown onto him. He doesn’t know how well his subjects would take it upon hearing that their Queen is technically dead.
Then, he came across a door that he knew led to the kitchen. He peaked in to see you talking to the head chef, Ms. Plum.
“Oh, Ms. Plum. What am I to do? He just walked off without saying a word. Are all men like this?” You lamented.
“Well, I’m afraid none of them are very bright. They get something stuck in their heads…” Mrs. Plum began her response before pulling a knife out of the head of her colleague and wiping it clean. Then she continued, “...and you can’t do a thing with them.”
Elder Gutknecht burst into the kitchen with a rather heavy book. It actually seemed to be more than his skeletal weight, and it made Malleus briefly concerned. It was flipped to a certain page, and Maggot resided on top of the page.
“My dear, we have to talk.” The Elder seemed burdened by something, which made the dragon prince worried.
“Let me tell her, please. Let me tell her!” Maggot seemed quite the opposite. Whatever misfortune had happened, he seemed to be fairly excited about it.
“What?” You seemed to have the same fear that was now residing in your husband.
“There is a complication with your marriage.” A gasp made its way out of you, and Malleus was pretty close, but he knew that this was not his moment to pop in yet.
“I don’t understand.”
“The vows are binding only until death do you part”
“What are you saying?”
“Death… has already parted you.” Another sound of surprise emitted from you, and your hand flew to your mouth. You started to bite your nails in quick contemplation.
“I don’t think he would leave, but is there something you could do to make the vows binding?”
“There is one thing…”
“Oh, please, please, let me tell her!” Maggot interrupted. The suspense was drawing you and Malleus (who was still outside) towards the elderly man.
“...It requires the greatest sacrifice…”
“Go on, get to the good part~”
“What is it?”
“We have to kill him!”
A moment of silence fell on everyone. It was overwhelming for even the dragon prince to comprehend.
Is he really willing to give up his life?
“What?”
“Prince Malleus would have to give up the life he had forever. He would need to repeat his vows in the Land of the Living…
…and drink from the Wine of Ages.”
Elder Gutknecht pointed at the page his book was opened to, and it pictured a vial or bottle of something. Your hands clasped themselves over your mouth as you turned away. Your face held a look of disbelief and remorse.
“Poison…”
“This would stop his heart forever. Only then would he be free to give it to you.”
Dropping to the floor, you bowed your head.
“I could never ask him…” A lone tear traveled down your decayed cheek.
“You don’t have to, dearest.” Malleus made his presence known, entering the kitchen finally. He extended his hands to you as he said, “I’d do it in a heartbeat if it meant spending eternity with you, Y/N.”
You looked up in surprise, originally hinted with a bit of mortification. However, upon hearing what he said, the mortification wiped itself away.
“My boy, if you choose this path, you may never return to the world above. Do you understand?” Elder Gutknecht looked at the prince, waiting for his response.
Continuing to look into your eyes as he helped you up, he said, “I do.”
~~~~~~~~
“Gather round. Gather round, everybody! My soon-to-be-official bride and I have decided to wed each other properly, so grab what you can and follow us. We’re moving upstairs for a proper celebration.” Malleus shouted as he held your hand atop the foundation of a statue.
“Upstairs? I didn’t know we had an upstairs!” A lady in the audience exclaimed. Everyone was now buzzing with excitement for the wedding. They rushed off to prepare both the bride and groom.
“Ms. Widow? I was wondering if you could touch up my suit. I want to be looking the best I can for Y/N.” Malleus explained, also beaming with excitement.
“Why, of course!” She let out a loud whistle, and a few different spiders appeared. The feeling of them walking all over was a bit ticklish, but the dragon prince remained as still as he could.
Then, a hush fell over everyone.
The women started singing in a rather calming tone, announcing that the bride was there.
You walked down the stairs, bouquet in hand and your dress trailing behind you. Once again, Malleus had his breath taken away at your beauty. Some of the widows dropped down with your veil, placing it lightly upon your head.
The men joined in the singing as you twirled about.
Maggot was in tears, blowing his nose in a smaller-scale handkerchief. He just couldn’t believe that his dear friend was finally getting married. He was so proud.
Everyone made their way upstairs. There was a large cake following everyone as well that the chefs whipped up. It was extravagant to say the least, but so were the wedding festivities of Briar Valley.
~~~~~~~~
Queen Maleficia was torn.
She sat at the dinner table, accompanied by Silver, Sebek, Lilia, and the Wikora family. A simple soup was served for dinner, as no one could really stomach an extravagant meal. However, the Wikoras were not really appreciative of the dismal dinner.
Lady Aerwynn looked a tad better, some color having returned to her skin. She was not as feverish, but she was not touching her food. Her hair was brushed neatly, courtesy of the servants who were attending her.
That aside, the Queen was wondering how she was going to break the news to the Wikora family that Lady Aerwynn’s engagement to her grandson was invalid as per her orders.
The entire room was silent, save for the flickering of the fire behind her in the fireplace and the scraping of spoons against the ceramic bowls.
“Has there been any news about His Royal Highness?” Lord Piersym inquired. He was Lady Aerywynn’s older brother, and even more insufferable.
“I am afraid not. There are a few parties out in the woods searching for him.” Maleficia responded.
Then, the fire turned green. It cast an ominous emerald glow in the room, surprising everyone. They all stayed frozen still, only moving their eyes.
Creeping up behind the Wikoras were what Silver, Sebek, Lilia, and Maleficia recognized as dead bodies and skeletons. The one behind Lord Piersym, their eye accidentally fell out of its socket and landed in his soup.
“There seems to be an eye in my soup,” he stated rather calmly.
That is when poor Lady Aerwynn ran to her wit’s end and started screaming. The knights were also considerably spooked at the happenings, but they came to the realization that their weapons were taken by the walking dead. They were left defenseless, basically.
Her Royal Majesty didn’t seem scared but rather on the defensive. This was living (?) proof that the danse macabre was real. That means her grandson would be back. All the living dead were headed a certain direction, she noticed, after spooking her guests and the knights.
Lilia also seemed to notice that pattern and started leading her out of the castle and down the roads. A bunch of skeletons were climbing over the palace walls and into the village outside, so the two faes started making their way to a meadow, as that was where everyone was going.
All around them, couples who had lost each other because of death reunited, and it was beautiful. Typically, in Briar Valley, no one remarries once death has parted them from their first partner. Hence why Queen Maleficia has no king consort. So, to see that loved ones were able to see deceased loved ones again was truly magnificent.
After the reunions, they started heading towards the meadow where a wedding seemed to be set up. An altar of both dead and alive flowers (that symbolized death), as well as the typical wedding flowers (like roses, lilies, and baby’s breath, as mentioned before). The feeling of excitement was in the air, and Maleficia had never seen the village bustling with life like this before… pun intended.
Whispers made their way through the crowds of people, both dead and undead. From what Her Royal Majesty and Her Right-Hand Man gathered, His Royal Highness was repeating his wedding vows in the ‘Land of the Living’ to be with his true love.
…Lady Aerwynn was right. Malleus had, in fact, danced with the dead. Now he was going to join them alongside a dead woman he had only just met that night.
The severity of the situation was donning on both faes as they took their seats in front. More whispers of amazement at seeing the Queen as well as the (at their time of life) General as they sat down.
The two let out a gasp as they saw Malleus teleport to the altar. His suit was a black coat with a green vest. A black button-up resided underneath along with a green tie about his neck. Black dress pants and shoes accompanied the rest of the outfit.
Gasps resounded from the rear of the venue and everyone turned to look. There you stood, your veil hiding your face. Because of its transparency, everyone could still see your face, albeit it was still slightly shrouded from view. You walked slowly down the aisle, as per tradition. There was no question about it: you were beautiful.
Maleficia could tell that you were once a gorgeous human woman. Actually, you seemed very familiar. That dress was one that she had seen before.
You reached the altar and stood beside your about-to-be husband. At the podium stood a rather old skeleton with a rather large book and a bottle of what was presumed to be wine and an empty chalice. The officiant, the Queen guessed.
“Evening. Dearly beloved… and departed… we are gathered here today to join this man and this corpse in marriage.”
Silence washed over the people attending the ceremony. It was like magic the way that everyone wanted to speak but no one dared utter a word. Malleus gently lifted your veil to reveal your face to everyone, and he swears that he is gazing into your eyes for the first time. The pure amount of love in his eyes could have made your heart begin to beat again.
“Living first.” The old skeleton pointed to Malleus, who turned towards you.
“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” Just like he rehearsed, he raised his hand up and you accepted it, and he led you three steps forward.
“Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.” He took the empty chalice and lifted it up.
“Now you.” The officiant pointed at you. You realized that you would finally be able to say these vows in however many years since you were set to marry.
“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” Just like you had rehearsed many times before, you took a step towards Malleus.
“Your cup will never empty, for I will be…” You opened the bottle and took it into your hand and started pouring the liquid into the chalice that Malleus was holding. But, you paused.
Malleus looked at you expectantly, wanting you to finish the vow so that he may drink the Wine of Ages, wanting to join you eternally in death.
“...I will be…” You came to the realization upon stealing a glance at the crowd. They needed a king once Queen Maleficia gave away the crown. Not just that, but Malleus still had his entire life ahead of him. He was signing it away just for a woman he had only met that night.
“Go on, my dear.” The elderly skeleton prompted. You focused your gaze back on Malleus, who had a hopeful but fearful look in his eyes. However, you did not have that hopeful look in your eyes to match. Malleus realized that.
You take a deep breath in as you go again, “Your cup… will never empty… for I will be…” It’s as though something is prohibiting you from saying the vows in their entirety.
“...I will be your wine.” Malleus finished, going to drink from the chalice. However, before it reached his lips, you put your skeletal hand over it and brought it back down. The dragon prince looked at you in shock, but you looked down to avert his gaze.
“I can’t,” You looked back up at him, tears in your eyes. You were whispering so that no one else could hear you.
“What’s wrong? Speak to me, my love,” He whispered back.
“This is wrong… I was a bride. My dreams were taken from me. And now… I’m taking someone else’s life for my own selfish dreams.” Malleus was about to say something, but you stopped him.
“I love you, Malleus. But you’re not mine to have.”
You both were fragile in this moment as everyone was staring in suspense as to what would happen next. However, someone started clapping in a very slow manner.
“Oh, how touching. I always cry at weddings.” The two of you could recognize that voice from anywhere, and that man started walking down the aisle towards you both.
It was Lord Piersym.
“Our young lovers… together at last. Surely now they can live happily ever after?” The antagonizing tone in his voice did not go unnoticed, and your was-to-be husband put his hand on the other side of your waist and pulled you into him, so as to not leave you vulnerable.
“But you forget… HE IS STILL MY SISTER’S HUSBAND BY ORDER OF THE QUEEN!!! THE WIKORA FAMILY WILL NOT LEAVE EMPTY-HANDED!!!” He screamed. Malleus was about to put an end to this by using his magic, but you stepped out of his grasp.
“You?” You asked. The dragon fae as well as the crowd watched as you walked to the edge of the plateau upon which the altar stood.
“Y/N?” Looks of recognition flashed on both Lord Piersym’s and your faces.
“You.” Your face turned into one of disgust and hatred.
“But… But I left you!” The man turned as white as a ghost.
“...For dead.” Gasps emitted from everyone in the meadow. It seemed that even the animals that were still active went absolutely silent.
“This woman is obviously delusional! It would do you good to hold your tongue, you filthy human!” He pointed a sword at you, and while you were aware that you could not die twice, Malleus seemed to have forgotten about it. All he processed in his mind was that his mate was in danger.
“You were set to marry me. You have no right to call me that,” you stated, diction quite clear and distinct.
“Touche, my dear.”
“Now, go away.”
“Oh, I’m leaving. But first! A toast!” He grabbed the chalice out of Malleus’s hand, lifting it in the air and turning towards the audience, who all had either surprised or angry faces, depending on if they were alive or dead.
“To Y/N! Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.”
Malleus was about to shout and lose his mind over what he had just said to you, but you took a step closer to him and kept a vigilant eye on Lord Piersym.
“Tell me, my dear…
Can a heart still break once it’s stopped beating?” Venom laced within his voice, he, too, kept a vigilant eye on his surroundings. His words were enough to bring you to the verge of tears.
“Let me at him! Let me at him!” Maggot was furious. He wanted the death of the puny lord to be by his own ‘hands’ with how angry he was at that moment. However, Elder Gutknecht held him back with his finger, along with the rest of the crowd with his other arm.
“Wait! We are amongst the living! We must abide by their rules!” The Elder warned.
“Well said,” Lord Piersym said in response. He then lifted the chalice to his lips, as though to ‘cheers’ what he said. Then, he proceeded to drink all of the wine that was in the cup. He gave it back to Malleus and started making his way to the side and out of the venue.
“...Not anymore~” Maggot said. Well, he wasn’t wrong, as all of a sudden, Piersym Wikora doubled over, gasping for air. He could feel his magic drain from his body and be replaced with something else.
As I have mentioned before, dear reader… magic is alive. At least, the kind of magic that faes, trolls, and others have in the Land of the Living. The kind of magic that was being replaced in Piersym’s body was something unexplainable. It was like a dead magic. No, not dormant, and certainly not like a volcano. But a dead magic.
The lord looked up, and his skin was pale with a blue undertone to match. His heart had stopped. He was now a walking corpse.
“Yep. You’re right. He’s all yours,” With those words, Elder Gutknecht put his arms down and the dead in the crowd started making their way to the, now dead, lord. They dragged him back through the village, back to the Land of the Dead via the fountain in the center.
That left the living as well as you at the altar. The Moon was close to giving way to the Sun. You turned back to Malleus.
“Y/N, I made a promise to you when I proposed to you. I intend to fulfill that promise if you will have me.”
“No, Malleus. You have kept your promise. I loved dancing with you under the moonlight. You’ve set me free. Now I can do the same.”
Right then and there, butterflies started cutting their way out of the bottom of your dress and legs. It was as though you yourself were an image. You began to disappear as the butterflies flew away.
However, Malleus was not ready to let you go without giving you a farewell gift. He gently pulled your… upper body… closer to him and placed a kiss on your cold lips. A tear escaped from his right eye. Then, you were gone.
~~~~~~~~
Maleficia didn’t know how to feel. However, there was one prominent emotion that made its way to the front of the line, and it was sympathy for her grandson. She stood up from her seat and made her way to Malleus, going to wipe away a tear and say something in encouragement.
“Grandmother, why does it hurt so much?”
“I am afraid, Malleus, that it is the one thing no potion or spell will be able to fix. You will have to recover on your own.”
This took forever, and I was supposed to have it out on Halloween but that clearly did not happen lol.
Thank you for reading! Like, comment, reblog, share, whatever lol.
#divider by cafekitsune#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#disney twst#twst wonderland#malleus#malleus draconia x reader#twst malleus#malleus x reader#malleus draconia#twst malleus draconia x reader#twst malleus draconia#twst malleus x reader
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Fortune's Blessing
Meeting the God of Luck! Reader
Ft. Capitano(pt.2), Diluc, Dottore(pt.2), Pantalone(pt.2), Zhongli
Part 1
Capitano:
Fortune favours the bold
Or so he's heard, which is why he's once again at your altar, flowers in hand, along with his usual offerings
He takes more time in getting to his requests with each visit ever since you've started entertaining him in person
Terrible, really, the way he stalls, smoothly transitioning between topics the moment he sees you begin to lose interest
He knows there's only so long s mere mortal could hold your attention
Still he tries, adamant to make it work, to leave an impact on you, even if only a fraction of the impact you've had on him
Perhaps it really was time to be bold - what he planned to do would toe the line between courage and foolishness
"What is it you wish me to bless this time, Captain?" You murmur, tilting his chin to have him look at you as he knelt at your feet. He rose, kissing the back of your hand in reverence. Had you been anything but a god, you would have surely melted stthe intensity of his gaze, so steadfast and sure as he looked at you like there was nothing else in the world.
"It is a more...personal endeavour this time, Fortune." You raised an eyebrow at the captain prompting him to continue.
Diluc:
He's never considered himself particularly lucky or unlucky
Nor does he consider himself a devout believer of any god
Like yeah sure, gods exist, good for them, not his problem
Y'all failed him and let his dad die
So his first offering had been more of a formality since you were a friend of their archon and chose to visit their fair land of Mond
It just do happened his wine was the finest you'd tasted, and he found himself in much good fortune over the next few days
It felt odd to him, suddenly having this much good fortune after turning into a recluse
Greater still was his shock when you sat comfortably in his living room when he arrived home
"You are young lord Ragnvindr, yes?" you asked gleefully. "Your offering was received with much gratitude, and I am most regretful to inform you that it has run out."
He blinked a few times as you smiled at him expectantly. "You're...Fortune..." You nodded enthusiastically. "And you...you're asking for more wine?" His question sounded clipped, as though he were weighing the consequences of acquainting himself with yet another alcoholic god.
"Indeed, I took the liberty of installing a small shrine by your cellar for your convenience."
Your words left Diluc sighing, yet he couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips as you left.
Dottore:
Attention whore.
You thought you were dealing with a genius mad scientist?
Well, technically yes, BUT he is also an attention whore
Why did you not shower him with praise when he showed you the experiments he had used your luck for?
He takes it as your cue to him that he hasn't impressed you sufficiently
Which does make him grumpier
And he's not professional enough to hide it
"Take a look at this, Fortune."
You nodded in response, gingerly lifting the small device from his hands and raising it to the light to observe it. Your face remained impassive since you didn't really understand just what you were looking at, but of course, to Dottore, he'd expect a god to know these things.
"Well?" Dottore tapped his foot impatiently, his gleeful smile fading, slowly replaced by a frustrated scowl when all you comment is that "it's nice". Only nice?
The little office chair he pulled out for you is now carting you off around the lab to look at larger scale projects at speeds it was certainly not designed for.
Pantalone:
It's an investment, as you should know
Except luck is always a gamble, and who's to say his competitors don't worship you as well?
He finds out the hard way that his competitors were, in fact petty enough to come together and pool their offerings to one up his offerings
He does call for a business meeting with you over dinner
Enjoy it? Lovely, he certainly hopes you do
Gives you an ultimatum, in a way, because at the end of the day, he's got more to offer you long term
"Forsake them, Fortune. Whatever it is you want from me, it's yours. Is that not tempting enough of an offer to you?"
He's batting his eyes at you, plastering a pleading expression on his face, but you can tell it's an act. You know full well he'd cope just fine even if you declined, that this was just the most direct way out for him. Yet you found yourself caving for the sly, coy grin that tugged at his lips. So against your better judgement you agree. For a second, you note how serpentine his victorious smirk looks, and he seems to believe he has you trapped in his coils. No matter. It amused you for the time being; and you would continue to humour him for as long as he intrigued you.
Zhongli:
It's been a while since he's met another god who wasn't one of the seven
Heck, it's been ages since he'd even seen the seven, each of them preoccupied with their own affairs
So he's more than obliged to show you around, to accompany you when you visit Liyue
He has no need for luck, just as you have no need for material wealth
It's an odd sort of comfort, not being exalted, and it feels like two ordinary old friends walking along the harbour together
The two of you definitely jokingly exchange gifts as "offerings" and tease each other about your respective abilities
"Do you recall our contract?" Zhongli mused as he fidgeted with a single mora, rolling it between his fingers.
"Which? When you were only known as Morax? Or when you first were revered as Rex Lapis?"
"From our first farewell." You nodded, thinking back to that moment, back when Zhongli had kept his hair more unkempt, and worn the most fitted of shirts, flaunting the geo lines that adorned his arms. Back then, he'd lost Guizhong not long ago, and it was beginning to get lonely as more and more of his friends succumbed to erosion. So he'd proposed a contract, that no matter what, as long as he remained in Liyue, you'd one day return.
"Well, I did return," you hummed. "That you did," he agreed. "And I'd like to propose the same contract when you depart again. Something to look forward whole you're away."
Taglist:@myluvkeiji @aqui-soba @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @heizours @haliyamori @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro @thevictoriousmoon @mastering-procrastinating @cxlrose @astrequa @eowinthetraveler @ajaxstar @boundedbyfate @the-lost-anime-dad @moonbyunniee @greyrain23 @heavenlyfloof
Commissioned by @monstersealclubber
#astronetwrk#genshin#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact#capitano#dottore#diluc#pantalone#zhongli#capitano x reader#diluc x reader#dottore x reader#pantalone x reader#zhongli x reader#genshin capitano#genshin diluc#genshin dottore#genshin pantalone#genshin zhongli#diluc ragnvindr#regrator#morax#diluc ragnvindr x reader#regrator x reader#morax x reader#winery specials
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✧𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖔𝖗𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖘✧
Yaoshi x reader
1k words
AO3 version here
Very slightly yandere
Many years ago—possibly millennia, you were simply a small and insignificant mortal living on a planet that could only be described as desolate. It used to be full of life and vegetation—and the crystal clear water in the river always reflected the light from the sun like a valuable stone. But then it was all gone, the meteor had stroked your world; leaving nothing but a crater, a charred living being and the remains of the land and the river slowly but surely disappear. This world is dying—wasting away among the stars which share no empathy. The survivors live their life on a fragile veil of hope.
They said that the only relationship possible between mortals and Aeons is that of distant and fleeting gazes from the divines. Like a gentle yet frightening gust of invisible force and a pair ( or several pairs) of eyes staring down at them from a distance of several thousand light-years away. So you, too, assumed that to be true. Even if you pray to the Abundance, you didn’t expect anything in return–you didn’t expect answers. Even if Yaoshi was described as the most empathetic being in the universe; you believed that it has to take more than a small prayer to get their attention. Yet, you pray every day, just so you didn’t feel alone. Just so you and your family would feel better. Like a lie, parents would tell children so they would stop worrying and go to bed.
And one day you feel it; a million miles away from here—someone or something, with thousands of pairs of eyes, has glanced at you. In a small millisecond, you feel like you have seen something; the image and feelings have been imprinted into your brain like a footprint on a dry-out concrete. What WAS that? Is that what you think it is? That thing which mortal legends have claimed to be true? Aeon’s gaze. But you put no mind on it since nothing happened immediately after; you have dismissed it as a sudden hallucination from heat then go on with your day.
Little did you know that the magnificent being exists several light years away from your home planet, that entity has always been listening to your prayers. Aeons do not really answer pathstriders, and if they do that was a chance lower than finding a planet that has no sun and moon. For Yaoshi, they only converse and answer mortals only when they have met face to face. Prayers; they can hear but they do not have enough time for all the little prayers erupting from different corners of the universe. And here they thought being an Aeon would provide all the reach they needed. Still, sometimes some individuals cannot simply be ignored and you happen to be one of those individuals. Maybe it’s because of the scale of your sufferings or the constant prayers over and over again—the Aeon of the Abundance decided to glance you a visit.
That night after you have fulfilled your tasks for the day you go to sleep, drifting into the realm of dreams which stretches beyond the limitations of the universe. In dreams, mortals like yourself are boundless. To every corner of the crafted universe they go, sink themselves into the realm of thousand possibilities. You wake up in some sort of wild garden—too wild and too abundant to be any realistic garden you have ever seen from your home planet. The light shines on trees and grass seems to almost be golden but the sunlight itself doesn’t feel too hot nor does it feel too cool. Looking up ahead of yourself, a light sensation touches your cheek, you catch it, and… the object seems to be a leaf you learned from the elders as ‘gringko’. Every tree that can bear fruits bears that cannot, however, spread their large branches and lush green-yellow-golden leaves to compete. You can hear animals—like a deer and even the growling of a tiger but they seem to be far away. Critters busied themselves with harvesting fruits and nuts which seemed to never run out. What IS this place? This place doesn’t even resemble anything you have seen in your homeland. Is it possible for a mortal to imagine and dream about the thing they never experienced in their lifetime?
You follow the path forward where the grass seems to be shortened and mulled over like many have walked over them for a very long time—so this must have been the main road to whatever was waiting for you. After some walking, you see a large tree forward. A golden ray of light emits from it seems to be the culprit who dyes the scenery golden. Grinko leaves dancing in the air also seem to be let go from this very tree. On its foot, there is a figure that sitting on a throne which seems to be fabricated from all manners of barks and roots
On that throne, a figure with several arms resigns. One of their legs crossed with the other is free—in several of their palms, each one of the fruit and grain is being held. They all look freshly picked; the water drop can practically be seen dripping down the curve of plump healthy-looking fruit. You have no idea when you have been close to them enough for the strange entity to reach out to you. Your eyes went shut instinctively when one of their fingers reached toward you—a long nail scratched your left cheek with utmost care. When you opened your eyes, you were there; sat right in front of them on your knees. They were and felt larger than life, behind them was a golden tree shining its benevolent light on all creatures and critters alike, it shined through you too. Hm, how…considerate. And then you realized, that pattern, how their body isn’t pattern… they are moving, staring eyes…all over their body. Whatever they are…is far removed from what you know.
“Child, I have heard your prayers, you are in great pain. But not the pain of your—it’s the pain of the dying world and your people,” They spoke. The voice is soft like velvet slowly and gracefully making contact with your consciousness–dripping with an overwhelmingly large amount of empathy. Yet, their voice firmly reeked with confidence. Before you could say anything back a long and elegant finger pressed shut your frail lips.
“I understand, I, too, was once wondered—’ why do all things need to come to an end? Why does suffering itself have no other end other than death? Their pain, I have seen the world you have saw; through the prayers you’ve delivered to me. You shall be set free by me—and by proxy, carry my blessings to your kinsman. Only…under one condition,”
You listened to the honeyed words from the fascinating entity as you suddenly forgot how to breathe. It was now clear who this strange entity was. Yaoshi, Aeon of the abundance. But—why? And if they were real does that mean—
“Become mine. Become my Emanator and my consort; then—leave this world behind with me. You shall have to protect your kins, give them my eternal blessings. Just only if you will submit to me,”
Dividers by cafekitsune
#hsr x reader#hsr fanfic#honkai star rail#yandere honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#hsr yaoshi#hsr yao x reader#yaoshi x reader#yaoshi#star rail#star rail x reader#star rail x y/n#star rail x you
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Give Me A Star In The Sky and Promise To Be By My Side
Knight!RE4R!Leon x Mermaid!F!Reader
fluff, medieval setting, no use of super flowery words, mentions of death/dying (once or thrice i think)
SUMMARY : Leon's a knight in shining armor but he begs to differ because he swears God sent him an angel with a voice that outshines all that comes along with an even shinier mermaid tail.
Fighting. Killing. Coming back alive when men you considered your brothers are dead. This is all something Leon is used to ever since the royal family has taken him in as their knight; no compensation, no amount of pay could ever repair the damage that fighting mutant horrors beyond human comprehension has done to him. He has lost it all– friends, family, and the will to live. He has considered ending this torment with a rope around his neck but he never could bring himself to do so; someone has to do the job because if he doesn’t, then who will? He takes a swig of the strongest whiskey he can get his bloodied hands on, hoping to drown his sorrows and dissolve the faint image of his comrade’s mangled body that lingered in his mind like a taunt that he will never rebuild his life again and one day, he too will die like this and there will be no loved one to grieve his death; no one to lay flowers on his grave, no grave to be paying respects to but as if there was ever anyone in his life to visit him in the first place. He did not think that he would be deserving of praise or recognition; no matter how many times he scrubs his hands clean, there would always be blood on them. He zones out, dead blue eyes focused on nothing in particular as the voices that taunt him grow louder and sound as if they’re doubling in number. The grip on his glass falters, fingers trembling as tears flood the waterline of his eyes. Forcing himself to get a grip, he refills the glass and takes another long swig as he lets the drink burn his throat.
God must certainly exist because it’s as if He saw Leon struggling to keep the voices at bay and decided to send down an angel to sing solely to overpower the demons with her powerful voice; Leon thinks that maybe God still has some compassion to spare for a rabid stray like him. Leon keeps his head down, trying to keep himself grounded as a euphonious voice begins to sway his soul and move him gently. He finally looks up and sees a singer on stage, clad in a beautiful red dress; the color red never fails to make Leon feel a twinge of betrayal and hurt but this red is a shade he will always associate with silencing the raging screams in his troubled mind.
The peace is interrupted when a group of drunken men stumble to the front of the stage, filthy hands reaching out to touch her legs. Her voice weakens and trembles slightly, eyes widened and darting to and fro from the audience and towards the men. Leon decides that this is enough and gets up from his seat, walking over to the front of the stage and grips the wrist of one man tightly but the man does not give up easily; punches thrown, glass shattered, and noses bloody, guests pour out of the club, leaving you and him alone. He tells you his name and you offer yours, both of you knowing full well this is not the last time you two will see each other again. With a small nod, he turns around and heads out the door to retire back to his quarters. Swiftly, you grab a cloak and run outside to follow him. He hasn’t wandered too far off from the club so manage to catch up to him, placing a hand on his back. As a small token of your thanks, you give him a mermaid scale. Drawing him a little nearer, you place the iridescent golden scale on the pocket of his gambeson and give it a safe little pat before pulling away.
“What was that for?” he asks, gaze falling to his pocket.
“It’s a thank-you from me. I feel the need to repay you for defending me so I decided to give you my scale.” you respond, a small smile on your lips.
“A fish scale?”
“Mermaid scale.”
“I’ve seen large, rare fish sold to merchants with scales like these but thank you, I guess. I just did what’s right.”
All the singer does is laugh and look up at him with sparkly eyes.
Leon tries not to hide the bewildered look in his face. Mermaids are not real, they’re simply manatees that explorers have misidentified but she seemed a little too kind and eager to express her thankfulness so he takes it, not saying another word. It wouldn’t hurt to keep around a rare fish’s scale so he decides against giving it back or throwing it away on his way to his quarters.
“I’ll see you around, Leon.” you respond before giving him a small bow and heading back in. He looks back at you once but you look back three times, incredibly grateful for such a man to have stepped in and done something about the harassment.
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Even after a few days of the charming singer giving him the scale, he still keeps it around and carries it with him everywhere. He doesn’t know why he does so but he just does, perhaps out of respect for the singer; maybe it’s in her culture to give a kind stranger something like that and he’s just respecting whatever customs she may have. Sometimes, he pulls the scale out and holds it up to the sun or whatever source of light there is to admire the scale. The scale is a lot thicker and bigger than the usual fish scale so he figures that it must have come from a bigger kind unknown to the region. He has also decided to frequent that club more, staying around not for alcohol alone but also the music; the club had two or three singers but out of all, he most preferred to hear you sing. You always looked radiant, making the room seem brighter than it is but whenever you spot him in the sea of spectators, he swears you seem to look a lot brighter. You two don’t talk, him being a man of few words and you being an introverted person but occasionally exchange glances that said enough. It is easy to admit that the man is attractive but she didn’t feel anything more than just the mere urge to offer the man some company and same goes with him yet there were times where he felt his heart thrum whenever he recalled the way the corners of your eyes wrinkled whenever you smiled, how your eyes squint first before a bright grin graces your red lips; the way your glossy hair would softly sway along to the song as if there were waves causing your hair to dance along to the melody. He found himself subconsciously looking around for any threat looming around to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere you have effortlessly created and to keep you safe, of course. He also began to cut back on the whiskey he always got, making sure he only limited himself to a number of glasses in order to stay sober so he could rush in and protect you fast if the situation arose.
This night, being in the club would stay in his imagination as he is sent to roam the forests for threats of those crazy cultists running around and planting parasite eggs around; news of livestock and villages from more rural portions of the kingdom reached the town, causing the king to raise alert levels within the kingdom’s line of defenses. The evening sky is dark, littered with shimmery dots of white and silver moonlight that beamed through tall and dark trees. The gale is cold, a refreshing contrast to the hot afternoon; the wind gently blows, as if caressing Leon’s body like he’s made of thin glass and gently ruffling his slightly unkempt blond hair. He’s not wearing his usual bulk of armor tonight, opting for white long sleeves and a black leather doublet over it; a belt to contain his sword and daggers hang on his waist, causing a faint clanking noise with each stride. Despite being tall and muscular, his footfalls were trained to be as light and noiseless as possible to keep him undetected when he was on duty. However, light footfalls are nothing when you fail to keep yourself guarded and fall prey to who you are supposed to be preying on. An assassin sneaks up from behind him and renders him immobile, a handkerchief damp with a sedative substance clamped over his mouth which causes him to lose his consciousness. The assassin holds his heavy body, pulling it to some place else to effectively keep him immobile. Blade belt removed, hands and ankles tied, a black cloth covering his eyes, the assassin lugs him to a cart used for the transport of the dead and takes on, disguising themselves as someone assigned to pick up bodies and send them to a burial ground in order to properly execute their mission.
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“Leon! Leon!,” Chris calls out. The man walks and looks around, his booming voice reverberating through the woods.
“Where in the hell is he,” he mumbles softly. Leon is someone who always knows the way and would always come back; he could be set to drift out at sea with a blindfold to his eyes and his arms constricted but he would always get back, no matter what.
“No sign of Leon anywhere,” Luis responds. Luis, one of the palace’s scholars, had been called over by Chris to ask him about Leon’s whereabouts. When Leon was not hanging around the barracks, he could be seen in Luis’ laboratory flipping through books or observing Luis’ notes.
“Ran off with a certain lady friend of his, perhaps?” he jokes, a failed attempt at making the situation lighter. Chris’ forehead creases with worry, fumbling around his pockets for a cigarette only to remember that he left it at his chambers. “So much for trying to quit.” he thinks to himself. They continue discussing where Leon could be, occasionally calling out his name every now and then, wading deeper into the forest. Suddenly, they hear a child’s helpless screaming. The screaming sounded a little more reverb, as if he was trapped somewhere.
“You hear that?” Luis asks, to which Chris nods.
“We’ll help you kid! Hold on!,” Luis exclaims as he and the other brunette set off to find the source of the noise.
“Help us! We’re in a well!” the kid exclaims. Luis raises an eyebrow at Chris; We? What did he mean by “we”? Could it be that Leon is with the kid too?
The pair rushes to the source of the sound, the child’s voice growing clearer and clearer with each speedy stride. Finally, a well comes into their view and they sprint towards the well. They peer down and see Leon, finally conscious but his head is tipped up for if not, he would sink below the water and drown. On his shoulder is the child, legs untied but hands bound together. His clothes are wet, cheeks deeply flushed from all the crying he’s done. The way they are positioned looks odd; the kid, despite being much much smaller than Leon, is standing with the water up until his ankles whilst Leon looks like he’s struggling to keep his head up and it occurs to them that he’s letting the kid stand on his shoulders to call out for help despite his weakened state.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get you chico!” Luis exclaims before scrambling off to find a rope, a vine– whatever they can use to get the kid and Leon out. Luckily, a portion of the rope was stuck on a stone that jutted out from the inside of the well and if Chris took a stick and brought a portion of the rope up, he could get them both out. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a stick sturdy enough to support the weight of a child but Luis piped up with an idea.
“Chico, can you jump for me?” Luis calls out. He smiles half-heartedly, trying to stir up some feelings of confidence in the kid.
“I’m going to need you to jump as high as you can and grab on to that stone,” he adds with a slender finger pointing to the stone that juts out.
“Think you can do that for me?”
The kid hesitates for a moment, looking down at Leon and back up. His bottom lip quivers and a look of fear flashes in his bright green eyes before shaking his head and breaking out into a new set of tears. A grunt could be heard coming from Leon, all his energy going into keeping his body up for the kid; he hasn’t even broken out of the ropes, more focused on getting the child out before himself.
Luis mutters something in Spanish and Chris considers shedding his armor to climb down and somehow try to get the kid and Leon himself, even if the odds are stacked up against everyone. Without warning, a yelp from the kid could be heard as he took a leap without warning, one tiny tied hand holding onto the rock.
“Help me!” the kid cried in a shaky voice and nasal tone. Chris bent down as deep as he could, his hand stretched and trying to get the kid’s wrist and lift him up.
“This might hurt a little but it’ll be fast, I promise!” he says before finally getting the kid’s wrist. Luis holds on to his waist to keep him from dipping into the well too much. With a few grunts, Chris finally manages to lift the kid out. Luis sheds his coats, wrapping it around the shivering kid as he tells the child to sit beside the well and try to stay warm. Leon, however, stays trapped and has gone beneath the water due to the downward thrust when the kid lept. The two men above the water consider shedding whatever clothing and dividing down, spotting a golden glow beneath the water. Golden? But the moon appears silver this evening; the faint light appears as if it’s beneath the waters. Interesting.
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She is backstage, gently patting powder into her face as she gets ready for tonight’s performance. She has her best pink dress on, silk embroidery casting a peachy sheen whenever golden candle-light struck the threads; long locks of her hair is kept away from her delicate face using starfish hair clips, strands defining the plumpness of cheeks the shade of tropical corals and framing her soft jaw. She spreads her lips into a wide smile, trying to get more of the product into her cheeks when she feels a sharp pain in the left side of her chest. She hastily returns the powder puff into the pot, a dainty hand flying to her chest and clutching it as she tries to catch her breath. The pain persists for a few more seconds until she realizes that someone may be in dire trouble. Hurriedly, she grabs her coat and runs out of the club. The ache in her chest could only mean one thing: a recipient of her scale needs her help right away, that recipient being Leon. Leon is the only person she’s ever offered her scale to, that tiny iridescent thing connecting the both of them in a way she didn’t quite expect. She has heard of what offering a scale could entail but she didn’t expect it to be like a map; she doesn’t know where he is but a connection to an item of hers just leads her there. She speeds through the thickness of the forest, legs pumping fast to get her to him as fast as possible. Not too long after, she spots a well and she feels the ache grow stronger. A hand flies up to unclasp her coat, hurriedly moving over to the clips in her hair to let it drop down to the floor. She spots two men and a child right by the well, the men shedding their shirts and vests. One of the men, the tanned and lean one between the pair, reaches out to her but she doesn’t pay them any mind. Stretching her arms in front of her and keeping them together, a shimmery flash of pink plunges into the well and hits the water with a loud splash. Immediately, her eyes adjust to the darkness and her legs shift into an opalescent gold tail. With a strong kick, she sets off to find Leon whose eyes are closed. She spots a muted gold glow in his chest pocket, her scale and sees his hands below his back. Hastily, she swims up to him and takes his arms; a broken piece of rope is attached to wrist and the same goes for his ankles. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she swims them both to the surface of the water but his eyes are still closed. Offering him some of her strength, she unwraps her arms from his wrist and places her tender hands on his face, she lets her lids drape over her eyes and brings her face near his. Tilting her head, her soft lips meet his lightly chapped ones; a surging tide of warmth and some miraculous strength courses through Leon’s formerly limp body, eyes slowly flying open only to be met by a blur of dark blue and a stinging sensation which causes him to shut them again. He could not see but he is certain that it’s her; an odd yet not uninvited swimming giddiness overrides his ability to reason logically and before he knows it, he finds himself pressing his lips back only for her to finally pull back and reach the surface of the well. Leon had always been the savior, the knight in the armor dirtied from war and he does not mind it– not at all but it is at that moment of nearly stepping into night’s Plutonian shore does he realize that maybe, just maybe, it doesn’t hurt to have someone save him for a change. As a man who has seen the face of war and smelt the stench of death, he has learned to raise strong walls to protect his heart from abandonment but through this moment, he comes to the realization that you’re slowly taking those walls apart but he doesn’t resent it– not one bit.
He wakes with a painful cough, sitting up and spitting out all the water from his lungs. With each jerk of his body, tears spring in his eyes from the sheer pressure he’s exerting just to get everything out. He feels a satiny touch fall on his back and he turns around; the singer from the club he frequents holds him in her lap and strokes his back from all those forceful coughing fits.
“You alright?” she asks in the most silvery voice he’s ever had the high grace of hearing.
“Yeah,” he responds with a hoarse voice. His throat feels weird and scratchy, a hand coming up to feel for his Adam's apple. He looks back at her and notices that they’re both drenched, her shimmery sleeveless dress clinging to her body and her long hair still dripping with water. His gaze falls on her cheekbones and drifts down to her arms and spots subtle opaline scales, similar to the ones on her legs. Her hands and feet look a lot more webbed, eyes appearing a little more bright than the average person’s.
“Thanks. For what you did. I mean it,” he softly says.
She smiles, still patting his back.
“It’s nothing. It’s sort of like me returning the favor for when you defended me back in the club.”
She coaxes him closer to her and he lets himself rest against her body, the weariness of the ordeal setting deep in his bones.
“How’d you find me?” he asks.
“The scale. My chest hurt while I was getting ready and I figured that you’d be in some form of trouble. I had this weird intuition on where you are and I ended up saving you.” she responds.
“Didn’t know you had a ladylove, sancho.” Luis chimes in, which causes the both of you to look avert each other’s gazes and attempt to conceal the deepening glow of pink in your cheeks. Chris finally finishes putting his garments back on, a smile on his lips. Urging Luis and the child up, they go to move somewhere else but not too distant from the both of you. Leon lifts his right hand up, gesturing it to you and shows you a gold radiance wrapped around his ring finger like a thread. You tilt your head, bringing his hand closer to you until you notice that the luminescent thread connects to your own ring finger, which also resembles thread.
“Am I going to be a mermaid too?” Leon speaks up.
“N-no… I don’t think so. This is my first time seeing something like this.” you quietly say. The threads disappear, fading into shimmery moonlight that lingered on you two for a swift moment.
“You’re a mermaid.” Leon mumbles faintly.
“Yeah, I am.” you say.
“That explains the voice.”
“And not the scale, which you thought belongs to some kind of rare fish?”
“You aren’t entirely fish but you’re quite the catch if I do say so myself.”
“Oh?”
You turn your head to a side not facing Leon, shutting your eyes and biting your lip in a moment of pure glee as waves of excitement crash over your body, a coral tint adding more color to your face.
“Let’s get back. It’s getting colder.” you finally say as you try to fight back a smile.
“Sounds like a plan.” he says as he flashes that swoon-worthy grin.
NOTE - THANK GOD I'M FINALLY DONE WITH EXAMS OH MY LORD. Fun fact: I started this fic when I was supposed to be studying for one of my tests and I finished this when I'm currently supposed to be practicing for a music class requirement :3 Making the fic look a lot more cuter took more time than I initially thought but I don't mind tbh. I'll be inactive from January 25 to 26th because I'll be on a day-long school trip. Hopefully I'm passing all my tests because I will be CREMATED if I don't. Also ordered my Leon photocards and they haven't arrived yet (baby come home) That's all and I'm really thankful that you've read my fics and enjoyed them :) I love you <///3
The animated pink divider and chain dividers are from @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).
#leon kennedy#resident evil#fluff#leon kennedy fluff#leon kennedy x y/n#leon s kennedy fluff#leon kennedy x reader#leon scott kennedy#leon s kennedy#re2#resident evil 4#resident evil x reader#biohazard#resident evil 4 remake#re4make#re4 remake#re4r
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hello my love! If you don't mind I would like to request something for Orter. He and reader are still students in Easton and absolutely despise each other (something like academic rivals) and they ended up having to take care for a magical creature together for a class project during a few weeks! sorry if its a bit confusing, english is not my first language 🥹
good evening darling~
First of all, I would like to apologise because I originally wanted to make something short but it ended up being just a little longer than what I expected...
edit: part 2 ← right here
also i am receiving a lot of requests recently for some reason. thank you for your patience.
word count: 5.7k
warnings: f!reader, i hope you aren't scared of snakes (this one is cute tho), bit of swearing, not proofread
Taking care of it!
Group assignments are, and always have been the worst. The extroverts usually left you with the heaviest workload and you'd just end up doing everything by yourself while they took credit for it. However this time, the assignment wasn't like anything you would've expected.
The teacher was going to pick random students and put them into pairs, and each duo would be given a small wooden box with an egg inside of it.
“These boxes contain mandragora snake eggs. This species hatches into different colours depending on how you take care of them and help them grow.”
The teacher explained and brought two different creatures to her desk. The left one had beautiful and healthy dark green, glossy scales and stunning purple flower patterns with big eyes and seemed extremely docile; it was a rather medium-sized specimen and it looked kind of cute.
But the other one was a completely different creature; an aggressive beast with long, hooked fangs, completely hollow eyes and its scales were an alarmingly fluorescent shade of green with almost no patterns at all. Its scales were in a pitiful state and seemed uncomfortably stony. It kept trying to bite the teacher.
“The left egg has been taken care of perfectly, and is now a healthy, beautiful mandragora snake. The right one however, has absorbed too many negative energies from the ones taking care of it, resulting in… this.”
And just as you started wondering how it was possible to mess a beast up that badly with only negative energy, the teacher called out your name.
“(L/N) (Y/N) and Orter Mádl, come and get your egg as well.”
That couldn't be good, this snake was probably never going to hatch at all. The two of you exchanged an uncomfortable yet similar side eye. Existing in the same classroom as him was already enough of a pain in the neck, and now you had to raise a magical creature together?
Oh boy.
…
You were both sitting in front of this egg now, in absolute silence as none of you knew what to say or do. You had never taken care of a mandragora snake— or any type of pet other than a cat in the past, and surely anyone could guess Orter was not the nurturing type.
“This snake is going to have horrible parents.” You thought out loud, and for the first time, you saw the cold, distant jerk nod. He crossed his arms and looked at it for a while without saying a single word. Just… what was he trying to achieve? Did he think he was going to turn into a mandragora snake expert just by looking at an egg?
The teacher cleared her throat to grab everyone’s attention again and pointed at the blackboard.
“These creatures usually hatch after approximately one week, and they will gain their patterns after one more week, but an unhealthy egg will take longer than that. You must take good care of them until their colours are completely visible. Your schedules have been cleared accordingly so taking care of the little ones should not be an issue for the next month.”
Orter didn’t quite appreciate the idea of spending a month with the likes of you, nurturing and hatching a pet together as if you were some kind of happy little family. He raised his hand.
“Is joint custody allowed?”
“Absolutely not.” The teacher deadpanned at his question and you almost slammed your own face against the desk at how dumb of him that was. After a while, everyone left except the two of you, still staring at the egg.
“That was dumb of you. I’ll be the one to hatch it since you can’t bear to have responsibilities.” You gently pet the egg with one of your fingers. “Isn’t that right, Rivers?” That last part was mumbled as if you were talking to an actual baby, and Orter rolled his eyes.
“Dumb? Should I remind you that your last two brain cells are fighting for third spot?” He mocked, giving you a condescending side eye. “And why are you giving it a name already? It hasn’t even hatched yet.”
It was your turn to roll your eyes and look at him as if he had just asked the most obvious question in existence. He made no commentary about the way you looked at him.
“Since you don't even care enough to give it a name, Rivers will stay in my room. I’ll take good care of it.” You shrugged and very carefully picked the box up, holding it against your chest like an actual child.
“Isn't it supposed to be a two person assignment? How am I supposed to participate if it stays in your room?” He sighed, visibly growing more and more annoyed at your behaviour.
“You can visit if you want, it's not like I do anything other than going to class. Neither do you, I’m assuming.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and stood up from his chair to follow you as you walked to your dorm room. “You’re really going to ignore what the teacher said about joint custody? The snake-”
“Rivers. Its name is Rivers, don't call it ‘the snake’, Orter.” You shot an angry glare at him and he had to physically hold himself back from punching a wall.
“Rivers can't only stay with you.” He sighed as he finally used the name you had given it; a small victory but a victory nonetheless, even though he seemed a little angry at you for being so damn annoying.
“Neither can it keep moving between your room and mine, and I’m pretty sure that's what the teacher meant when she said no joint custody, besides...” You trailed off, looking down at the egg. “I doubt you're the nurturing type, I wouldn't even trust you with watering a plant.”
You giggled mockingly and he clicked his tongue in annoyance, but you were also right, as much as he hated to admit it. He muttered something and walked away in the opposite direction, leaving you alone with the mandragora snake egg in your hands.
You were determined to hatch it, with or without this jerk. Carefully, you placed it upon a cushion on the unoccupied bed in your room that was supposed to belong to your roommate, but she hadn't showed up in literal months, so Rivers was now your priority.
You enveloped the egg in fluffy, soft cloth and looked at it for a bit. Sure, you were the nurturing type… in spirit. How were you supposed to take care of a magical beast you had never even seen before?
None of your books had ever mentioned anything about it and you weren't really studious either unless Orter was about to get better grades, in which case you absolutely had to surpass yourself and crush him completely.
A few hours had passed and you were almost falling asleep, studying how the egg was reacting to sounds and touch. You could feel something move underneath the shell but you couldn't exactly tell what was happening.
It seemed stable, at the very least, but focusing so much and taking notes was draining. However, a knock on your door took you out of your drowsiness. “Come in?”
As you wondered who it could be, you were surprised to see that dear Mr. Mádl had stopped sulking and actually showed up, much to your annoyance. He closed the door and stepped closer to the egg, not even paying attention to you at all, which irritated you slightly.
“What's all this?” You asked as you noticed him holding an uncomfortable amount of handwritten notes. He pushed his glasses back up and finally looked at you.
“I went to the library to research a bit on mandragora snakes.” He stated with his usual emotionless expression. “Unlike you, I can put in some effort.”
Oh, he was getting on your nerves so much after only two minutes spent in your room. It took all of your remaining energy not to kick him out immediately. But for Rivers’ sake, you decided to keep calm.
“Look. I get that you despise me, because in case it wasn't clear, I despise you too. But for the sake of this assignment, can we please quit being passive aggressive?” You sighed softly, trying to calm your bad mood down.
“I’m not the one to blame here.” He shrugged, crossing his arms as he gave you his signature condescending look. “You didn't even research anything about this species, you're not even doing anything right now, and I bet you've been doing nothing for the past hours as well.”
You exhaled softly, feeling the small creature in the egg get a little agitated and trying to stay calm. “I took some notes on its reactions to sounds and such. I believe it can actually sense negative energy.” You handed him your notes and he raised an eyebrow.
“Sounds like bullcrap. It didn't say any of this in the books I read.”
You held your snarky remarks for yourself and shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe the authors didn't think it was necessary. But it's clearly reacting. It also reacted when I sang to it.”
He chuckled, his expression unchanged, and you just knew he was about to say something rude, so you decided to talk before he did. “Anyway, it's good that you did some research.”
Orter raised an eyebrow in suspicion. Surely there had to be something snarky at the end of this sentence and that wasn't all.
“Because..?”
“Because I couldn't have done it while checking its reactions, so it's good.”
The room grew silent quickly and the snake within the egg started to calm down a little. Though Orter didn't seem convinced at all, and still thought you were bullshitting him with this whole reaction thing.
“I still don't see it. Why would you sense reactions and not me? Are you just special that way?” He asked in a mocking tone, and you were getting more frustrated by the second.
“Just touch the egg right now.”
He did. Even without touching it, you could feel the magical beast getting agitated, but it seemed like he didn't. Not one bit.
“There's nothing. You're full of crap, (Y/N). Just say you haven't done anything the whole time, I won't be surprised.” He mocked, but you decided not to bite back. You knew what you had felt earlier and you wouldn't take his criticism for that.
“Whatever you say, Orter. But you'll have to stop acting like that because whether you want to believe me or not, it is reacting.” You sighed softly, wanting to change topics. “So anyway, was there any advice on how to help it hatch correctly?”
He flipped through his notes with his eyebrows raised in contempt, as if you just couldn't do that without him (you couldn't, let's be realistic here) and he stopped on one of the pages.
“They need company, warmth and lightning. I suppose even you can provide that, correct?” He looked up from his notes and you didn't have to look back at him, you knew exactly what kind of expression he had right now.
“I suppose I could.” You sigh softly, already fed up with his behaviour, and you felt the snake get agitated again. As if instinctively, you ran your hand against the shell. “It really doesn't like negative energy…” You muttered, not really towards anyone.
“I really think you're making things up here, otherwise it would've been mentioned in those books.” Orter said, putting his notes back against the bed where the egg was resting. You shrugged again, looking at it pensively, and for once, the snarky sandman didn't say anything.
“It's late… I’ll sleep for now.” You rub your face with your hands and sigh softly once more, then stand up and make your way to your bed. He, on the other hand, doesn't seem to be moving an inch. It's almost like he's trying to catch up with the egg for some reason…
“You could directly tell me to leave, you know?” He adjusts his neck tie as he stands up and turns towards you. You wanted to shoo him, send him flying or something, but you needed this mandragora snake to be healthy and you couldn't afford to do such a thing.
“I’m… tired, is all. Really tired. I wasn't kicking you out.” You muttered, sitting on your bed and looking up at him. Even when he isn't insulting you, he still finds ways to be insufferable.
“..right. I will be here tomorrow morning to ensure you won't be doing anything… dumb with this egg.” He cleared his throat and left without another word. What kind of jerk was he anyway? He'd been especially awful today and you had no idea why.
Maybe tomorrow is going to be better?
You spent most of the night tossing and turning, occasionally glancing at the egg, and it felt like the beast inside of it was mimicking you. Since sleep was evading you, you made your way to the other bed and sat next to the egg, looking at it in exhaustion.
“What's going on in there..?”
As if it was going to reply, yeah. You rubbed your hands against your face and sighed, lazily grabbing Orter’s notes on mandragora snakes and flipping the pages until you found the hatching section.
As insufferable as he was, his notes were flawless and easy to understand. What a pleasant handwriting… you shook your head and kept reading through it until sunrise.
He kept his word and showed up early with a bag full of… something ? He sat on the extra bed close to the egg, and pulled some more cloth out of the bag, as well as cotton and other fluffy materials he placed around it.
“I went and got some more.. warmth for it, since you couldn't do it correctly on your own.” He scoffed, and you just chuckled, not even looking back at it.
“Ahah, thank you, that's really helpful.” You were way too tired to bite back and honestly, he was putting in effort when all you were doing was go with the flow and panic when something happens.
The sn- Rivers seemed pretty stable at the moment, which was surprising considering how agitated it gets whenever… oh.
“I think it likes you,” you looked at Orter, a little amused. “It's been agitated all night and now that you're here, it's just… calm.”
He pushes his glasses back with a neutral expression and looks at it for a bit. “Perhaps it likes me better.”
You groaned slightly at the idea. Even though Orter was the one bringing supplies for it, you were obviously the one caring for it! Making sure it's stable and safe! You stood up and stretched your arms.
“Maybe… since it likes you so much, I’m going to go and get coffee or something, I’m exhausted.” And as soon as you took a step out the door, he called for you.
“Wait, (Y/N), something is wrong, come back.”
You raised an eyebrow and when you stepped back in, you could feel the beast’s agitation, like it was panicking or something. You just sat back and touched it.
“What's happening?”
Nothing. Well, nothing anymore. It just calmed down immediately and went back to being stable. You looked at Orter in confusion and he returned that same look. What was going on with this beast?
“It’s merely a hypothesis, but…” Orter trailed off as he stepped outside of the room and… the beast was still pretty much stable. Sure, it was moving around a little but nothing too critical.
“I think it likes me more.” You muttered, and heard him chuckle dryly and walk away. Did you upset him? That wasn't your intention at all, for once. Laying down and facing the beast, you wondered what was up with it. Why would anyone get such an assignment anyway? It was so much work!
The door opened again around twenty minutes later when Orter came back with a small bag. More supplies? Again?
He reached for the inside and then handed you a cardboard cup. “Umm.. what's that?” You asked in a confused tone and he raised an eyebrow at you like you were the stupidest, silliest little thing he'd ever met.
“What do you think it is? It's coffee, you idiot.” Oh. Oh. Ohh. You grabbed the cup and looked up at him, a bit puzzled. This man really was unpredictable.
“You… got me coffee? But… why ?”
“You said you were exhausted, and apparently you can't leave Rivers for too long, so…” He crossed his arms, and you suddenly felt really weird. Was he being nice to you? It was so odd. Right now, you didn't want to rip his head off or throw him out the window.
“That's… thank you.”
You couldn't say anything else, looking at him with the most disoriented look he'd ever seen before; there was no malice and no anger or frustration in your eyes, just… questions.
“Don't get me wrong,” he sighed softly, “I’m only doing this because I don't want anything weird to happen to it.” He specified, looking straight at you. Could he just not ruin a moment like this?
“It wasn't completely stable when you were gone.” You said, looking at the egg and taking a sip of your coffee. “It's only stable when both of us are here.” You muttered while adding this to your notes, and he made no commentary.
“It gets really agitated at night, even when I’m here.”
Orter cups his chin with his fingers and looks at the egg pensively. “Then I suppose you weren't lying when you said you could… feel it.” He reluctantly admits. “Should I keep it at night and see how it goes?”
You know for sure it's going to be a problem if you try to move the egg, so what to do..?
“I think so… but we can't possibly move it so, I would suggest…” You trailed off, visibly looking for something to say afterwards as you really didn't have a clue what to do, but Orter finished your sentence.
“...for me to sleep in this bed, is that your idea? Really?”
You blinked once. Then twice. Was that your idea? Not really, but after thinking for a while, you would've eventually brought this possibility up.
“Yes, I mean- no. Or, ahh… I guess..? I don't know. I didn't really…”
He sighed loudly and looked down at you with something of a mocking glare, and it suddenly felt really embarrassing. What was embarrassing? The idea of having him sleep in the same room as you, or the fact that he was being so condescending about it and had you stuttering?
“So, you just gave me every possible answer in one sentence…” He mused and crouched to take a closer look at Rivers. “Well, I suppose I can do that. But don't expect me to be nice to you.”
“You don't have to tell me, you ass.” You muttered and his eyes narrowed as he turned towards you.
“It's merely in case you forgot, since your brain looks a little… dysfunctional.” He taunted.
“Oh, you're taking care of my memory now? That's awfully nice of you, Orter.”
“Don't get too used to it, (Y/N).”
You chuckled as an answer and sighed softly, looking at the egg. “Can you hear that, Rivers? The audacity of that man.” You muttered, making sure he could hear you, and he gently pushed you aside to look at the egg.
“Don't listen to her, Rivers. Even you know I’m right.”
Did he just.. talk directly to it for the first time? And to say such a thing, too? You couldn't hold it in anymore and just burst out laughing, pointing your finger towards him, uncontrollably wheezing and giggling.
He looked very startled at first but then a little embarrassed. He slapped your hand away, pretending to be angry but he was just really flustered and had a very faint blush on his face. “Shut up… Hey, hey! Shut it now… Jeez.”
But you weren't exactly laughing at him. It was just very cute that he suddenly decided that it was fine to talk to this egg as long as it was to discredit you, and honestly, how could you not laugh?
Everytime he slapped your hand away, your finger came back to point at him, as if you were accusing him of something. It was really hard to stop laughing and it took you a good while to calm down, only to be greeted by Orter’s pouty expression, something you never thought you'd see.
“Ahh, I’m sorry Orter, I wasn't making fun of you. It was just really cute.” You said before realising what it implied, and it was your turn to be embarrassed. “I mean- cute as in, you know, you're talking to it now… and it's… you know.”
OHHH MY GOD STOP TALKING, SHUT UP! You internally yelled at yourself, and the way he sighed made it seem like he wasn't mad at you. Or was he? At least his flushed expression was gone, much to your disarray.
“Right…” He cleared his throat and crossed his arms as he sighs once more. “I mean… I suppose you are right and Rivers can feel our emotions..”
“..’so let's try to be good parents’ is what you're about to say, isn't it?” You muse, slightly teasing him. “C’mon, say iiiiit.”
“So let's try to… to…” He sighs and turns around, his hand on against his hip as he adjusts his glasses again. “...I’ll get some food, since you can't.” And with that, he immediately steps outside of your room, feeling like… like something. He doesn't know, and he hopes you don't either.
You chuckle to yourself, somehow thinking he's cute when he gets embarrassed. But you remind yourself that he despises you, and that you also despise him… or, well, not that much. Maybe despise wasn't the right word. You just weren't so sure anymore.
Orter, on the other hand, was trying to get this awfully embarrassing moment out of his mind as he walked to the Academy's shop to get some things. However… He didn't know what to buy. He then walked to the counter and looked into the store employee’s eyes very seriously.
“What kind of stuff do girls like to eat?”
He should thank the gods that you weren't there because the way he asked this with a completely straight face and flat voice would've put you to your grave.
While he was at the shop, you were reading his notes and humming slightly to try and soothe the mandragora snake inside the egg. It was working, but it definitely wanted both of you to be here.
You stopped on one of the pages as something caught your attention: “...mandragora snake eggs will drain a parent’s energy to grow, which is why the other parent usually hunts for the family and is in charge of making the nest more comfortable.”
With this, you almost spit out your coffee. Was this the reason why you were so tired yet restless? And also why it was panicking every time you weren't close to it? Putting more thought into it, you also realised something else.
Orter was the one who brought most of the cloth to keep it warm and he had also brought you sustenance so far. The two of you had taken these roles in very seriously without even knowing it. But since you were the one giving energy to it, perhaps…
You sat up and tried concentrating your mana into your hands before touching the soft shell, as if giving it a part of it… And much to your surprise, it seemed like something happened but you couldn't tell what exactly.
After an hour or so, Orter came back to your room only to find you laying down in exhaustion next to the egg, completely drained for some reason. You eyed the bag he was carrying and he just put it next to you.
“I didn't know what you wanted.”
What you wanted? Does that mean..? You sat up and looked inside of it; tons of snacks, candy, pastries and whatnot. You did need sugar right now, and so you immediately grabbed a pack of sweets and opened it.
“You are a lifesaver, Orter.” You sighed as you ate a few sweets, regaining your energy bit by bit. Pointing at the specific paragraph on his notes, you slightly tapped your finger against it.
“That's why I’m so tired, this little rascal has been taking all of my energy.” You muttered, sighing softly as you kept eating more and more sweets. He read the passage, holding his chin.
“And have you tried sending mana directly into the egg?” With your nod, he hummed. “I could try it too.” And so, he put both of his hands against it and tried sending some of his mana into the shell. Neither of you could tell if it worked.
You decided that you needed to take a shower and go to sleep, and as soon as you tried to stand up, your legs gave up from fatigue and you started collapsing, but Orter was quick enough to catch you. “Oh, crap. Are you alright?”
You groaned in frustration and nodded, even though you were completely incapable of standing up again; the sweets were apparently not enough to let you use your legs.
“You've really outdone yourself, haven't you?” He chuckled, and you looked away. He was being awfully nice and you just didn't know how to respond to that type of behaviour, especially coming from him.
He gently lifted you up and put you down on your bed. As embarrassing as it was, you couldn't really have managed otherwise. You were thanking him when your brain just shut down and you fell asleep quickly. He made sure to pull the covers up against you and he sat there for a bit, looking at you.
It was clear he hadn't been very nice at the beginning, and he was now trying his best to atone for that fact. While you rested peacefully, he couldn't help but move some of your hair away from your face and place it gently behind your ear.
From that moment, this is how most of your days went. You'd spend your day giving mana and energy to the egg and Orter would bring you some coffee, water and food, and whenever he was about to sleep, he'd give Rivers some mana as well.
After six days, the egg had grown quite a lot and you weren't sure what size the “little one” was going to be anymore. All you knew was that it was getting more and more tiring to keep feeding it with your energy.
You were laying down, exhausted even though it wasn't that late, and Orter was reading a book on the chair next to your bed. No insults, no snarky remarks had been exchanged since last time, and he was rather helpful to you.
After all, you were the one spending all of your energy on helping Rivers hatch correctly. Most of the time, he had to move you back to your bed because you'd fall asleep while giving it your mana. You could've sworn you felt him touch your face but you could've very well been dreaming… or were you?
The embarrassing question was stuck in your mind now and you couldn't stop thinking about it as you kept giving your mana to the egg. “Should be the last day, right?” You asked quietly, visibly really tired.
Orter closed his book and adjusted his glasses as he looked at you. “Yes. If it's healthy, then it should hatch tomorrow.” His eyes softened just a bit as he looked at you. “Why don't you call it a day? You sound exhausted.”
You sighed softly and moved to the edge of the bed to stand, and he immediately stood up to come and help you. It was… unexpected. You held onto him as if the two of you had never despised each other, ever, and he helped you get to your bed.
As much as you didn't want to admit it, he was really helpful. And since he had stopped being so condescending, it felt quite comforting to have someone sleep in the same room as you, not that you’d ever let him know about this detail. He was also really thoughtful and good at taking care of Rivers, so that was a plus…
In fact, he was rather nice overall. He seemed to remember what your favourite snacks were, and also what kind of coffee you liked, all of this just from studying your expressions carefully as you consumed what he had brought. He really was thoughtful, and since you had started taking care of this mandragora snake egg together, he hadn’t been snarky or mean even once.
“Are you alright?” He asked, looking at you with a hint of worry in his eyes. When you started wondering why he was concerned with you when you felt his hand slightly squeeze yours. Oh. Ah. Ah. You had unwillingly grabbed his hand when you tried to stand up, and hadn’t let go since then. While you were overthinking, he was just looking at you in confusion because you just… wouldn’t let go of his hand.
“O-oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- uh… I was just-...” Ah, it was no use. Your face was slightly flushed with embarrassment and you were trying to stutter your way out of this situation, but no words seemed to come out. You looked up at him and noticed that he was ignoring you. He had grabbed his book again and crossed his legs, reading it while flipping the pages with his free hand.
When he noticed you were talking to him, he just raised both eyebrows, but the gesture did not change his neutral expression. “I don’t need it right now, I don’t mind you keeping it.” And with this, he immediately went back to his book, as if he really didn’t care. The truth was that he just could not look into your eyes right now.
Orter was trying his absolute hardest to conceal the very faint blush on his face while you actually didn’t let go of his hand. Was it because you just wanted to hold it? Or were you just too embarrassed to do anything about it? Or was it both?
Even if you weren’t near it, you could feel some kind of weird vibration— or maybe just an emotion coming from the mandragora snake egg. You couldn’t tell what it was exactly, but it had started as soon as you had grabbed Orter’s hand. Was Rivers absorbing whatever emotion that was too?
That was just too much thinking for you and you decided that the only reasonable course of action was to collapse in bed and stare at the ceiling. That being said, you still hadn’t let go of his hand, and it didn’t seem like you planned on doing it anytime soon because as soon as you closed your eyes, you fell asleep.
He didn’t notice until he closed his book and saw you resting peacefully against the pillow while still holding it. He was about to pull his hand back and let you sleep, but it didn’t look like it was keeping you awake or anything, so he just decided to look at you for a bit, his thumb unconsciously rubbing your palm soothingly.
Sitting on that chair was rather uncomfortable, but he didn’t feel like letting go of your hand, so he was going to bear it anyway until you’d let go by yourself.
…which you didn’t do. You were just resting and holding his hand hostage the whole time.
Approximately two hours after you had fallen asleep, Orter heard a weird noise, something indescribable. As his eyes searched the room for its source, his eyes widened slightly. He turned to you and squeezed your hand. “(Y/N), wake up, hey.” His free hand reached for your shoulder, slightly shaking it.
Your eyes fluttered open slowly and you groaned in frustration. But Orter’s expression looked amused and a little excited, which woke you up immediately. “What’s the matter?” you asked as he chuckled and pointed at the egg.
“It’s hatching!”
Holy shit. You immediately sat up and made your way to the opposite bed as you watched the small snake slowly get out through a hole it had pierced. It then slithered away from the shell and looked at you and Orter, as if it was confused. You couldn’t help but squeal at how cute it looked. It was just a little baby!
You extended a hand and it instinctively moved towards you, then rested in your hand. It was such a precious little creature, you were holding back your tears. “Oh my gods, oh my gods… What are we supposed to do now?” You asked frantically as if in a panic.
Orter immediately flipped through his notes and then reached for a small bag of supplies, taking out a small piece of mandragora root and feeding it to the small snake, watching it greedily bite against it like “chomp!” and swallowing the whole piece.
“So, according to the notes I’ve taken, we can move him now and it doesn’t have to stay warm anymore. I’m assuming it’ll need to stay with us until its patterns start appearing. It also says it might sleep a lot.” He flips through the pages again to see if he hasn’t missed anything.
You thought for a bit. Maybe you could grab one of your scarves and put some cotton and such into it to make a… snake holder? This way you could walk around the academy with Rivers in your scarf and without worrying about it too much.
You had literal stars in your eyes and Orter looked completely lost as soon as he laid eyes upon this beautiful expression of yours while you were holding the small snake.
There was still a whole week left to the assignment, and it felt to him that time was flying awfully fast.
#mashle x reader#orter madl#orter mádl#mashle#orter mádl x reader#orter x reader#orter madl x reader#orter madl x you#mashle magic and muscles
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LEECH: ALL AROUND ME
| a collection of one-shots. collection masterlist.
DISCLAIMER: this fic is simply a work of fiction and is in no way, shape, or form claiming to be a reflection of how leon kennedy is canonically portrayed as a character. this is an au, meaning it is an alternate reality written for fun, so please heed this warning and keep it in mind while you read.
** none of these fics necessarily need to be read in any sort of order **
— to join the taglist, follow the link here and choose "leon kennedy" in the character list.
collection songbook
leon kennedy x fem!reader
word count; 3,031
warnings; leon is a stalker, themes of dark!leon, smut, masturbation (both m & f), alcohol use, allusions to oral (f receiving), spit play?
summary; long shifts two days in a row apparently called for drunken measures. she knew it had to be because she was drunk that she was breaking her routine, that she was thinking about leon kennedy again, that her hand was slipping between her thighs, that she could feel him all around her...
Ghosts haunted the long hallway leading to her apartment door. They lingered in the shadows, watching her as she walked by, their gazes like insects crawling on her skin. She was too tired to fully acknowledge them now but they were there, she could feel them all around her.
For now, she fumbled around with her key, circling the hole in the knob through half-lidded eyes until it finally entered the lock. The door squeaked as she stepped into her apartment, kicking her foot back against it to close it again. Sleep weighed heavily on her eyelids and there was a crick in the back of her neck she desperately tried to rub out as she locked the door, groaning while she tossing her purse and keys atop the kitchen counter.
She shuffled her feet towards the refrigerator, squinting against the harsh, yellow light inside as she reached for the leftovers from the night prior. She was going through the motions— dumping the contents of the white styrofoam to-go box onto a plate, opening the microwave, setting the plate down, slamming the door closed, pressing the 1, 3, 5 buttons.
Nights after long shifts at the hospital were always spent like this. Barely able to feed herself properly through a numb mind, scarfing down the lukewarm food, tossing the styrofoam to-go box away, staggering into the bathroom, stripping herself of her scrubs, turning the knob of the shower all the way to the left until the water was hot enough to scorch her skin.
It was all routine and practically nothing could break her from it through her barely-cognizant mind. Nothing— although, she did wonder somewhere in the back of her mind whether or not she left her toothbrush on the edge of the sink rather than in its holder before she left that morning.
Her flesh pleasantly burned as she shut off the shower, wringing the water from her hair before wrapping herself in a towel, stepping onto the bathmat. She finished the rest of her routine— brushing her teeth, blow-drying her hair, tugging on a t-shirt and underwear.
She was completely numb to the world by the time she was finished and all she could think about was her bed. Nothing could distract her from her bed. Everything ceased to exist save for her bed.
She practically face-planted into the mattress, tugging the comforter over her body as a chill settled into her bones. It was cold, unusually cold but cold was nice— she could sleep better when it was cold.
Nothing could distract her from her bed, from the sleep that was finally coming to, so close now, it hovered over her like the moon over the sun in an eclipse. Nothing could pull her away from sleep now— although, she did wonder whether or not her closet door had been cracked when she left that morning.
Her shift was an hour less than the one she’d worked the previous day.
She wasn’t sure if she should’ve been celebrating, as working nine hours was practically the same as working ten, but she’d take the small-scale victory for what it was worth anyways.
“You drinking tonight?” A fellow nurse, Grace, asked as they both gathered their things. She blinked at her coworker, then past her where another nurse, Isa, stood, staring back expectantly.
“I just worked nine hours,” she informed, turning back to her locker to shovel the rest of her things in her bag.
“Perfect drinking measures, if you ask me,” Isa grinned, leaning a shoulder against the wall. Grace closed her locker, tittering an, “exactly.”
She sighed as she slammed her own locker closed, huffing a lock of hair away from her face while she slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder. The two nurses gazed back with expectant looks— she had a feeling they wouldn’t be taking no for an answer.
“I should really catch up on sleep.”
Grace and Isa rolled their eyes in unison, the latter reaching forward to give her elbow a shove with her own.
“Come on. Just one drink and then you can go home, okay?” Isa pinched her brows together, her eyes rounding in a look that made her curse beneath her breath. She knew she couldn’t say no now.
“Fine,” she grumbled. “One drink. And I’m not paying.”
She had more than one drink.
One turned into two, two turned into three, and four had her stumbling over her own feet down the hall towards her door at a quarter past midnight. Ghosts still haunted the hallway, lingering in the shadows, watching her with eyes that made the hairs on the back of her neck perk. She turned and glared back, even though to nothing in particular. She huffed at the prickly feeling of being watched, muttering a string of curses beneath her breath while she fumbled with her key as she approached her door, seemingly unable to find the hole in it.
“Come on,” she groaned until finally, the key was in and she hastily turned the lock, stumbling. The door banged against the wall as she fell into the knob, cursing again as she slammed it back closed. She locked the door behind her and fell back against it with a huff, trying to blink the blurriness away from her drunken vision.
The cue in her brain that usually reminded her of her routine: eat leftovers from fridge, take shower, go to bed failed to function properly. Instead, images of memories embedded somewhere deep in her mind flashed, flooding her every sense until her entryway faded and she was back in the secret government training facility, knocking back a drink someone had snuck in.
She sat on a cot with her legs over someone’s bare lap, their fingers tracing patterns into her calves. When she swallowed down the bitter liquid and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, she blinked up at them to find they already stared back.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked, leaning over to hand them back the flask. Leon’s full, pink lips curved into a soft smile as he brought the rim of the small container to his lips, taking a sip of its contents.
“Looking at you like what?”
She pursed her lips as she leaned back on her elbows, head lolling back towards the metal rods that made up the headboard. “Like you’re trying to get into my head,” she replied and Leon snorted, setting the cold bottom of the flask down on her knee, resting his other hand on the middle of her calf.
“I’m not trying to get into your head,” he said, leaning his head back against the wall, green with muck. She narrowed her eyes, “right.”
She rolled her head around her neck, brow pinched as her gaze found his again. Her eyes trailed from his down to the breadth of his shoulders, to his toned chest and stomach. There was an angry swelling in the crook of his neck and she pushed herself up to lean over towards him. Leon’s blue stare followed her hand as it reached for the mark, his breath hitching for but a mere moment when her fingertips touched his skin, his grip tighter around the metal flask.
“It’s so red,” she noted and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was bordering on drunk that she was so entranced in this little, dark bite, but all she could really gather was that something about it made her feel… good. There was something so enthralling about having made a mark upon another’s skin, something that felt so potent. The blemish she’d made on his skin in a way made him hers, made it feel real.
“It doesn’t hurt,” Leon said, his eyes trailing up from her arm, past her naked breasts, up to her face. She blinked up at him, finger still on his pulse point, feeling it throb beneath her. It’s beat was irregular to her own heart but still, it beat for her, because of her, nonetheless. Leon’s flesh grew hot underneath her fingertip, like she was the match rubbing and igniting against him.
In a way, she really was. There was something about the way Leon felt, the way he looked at her, the way he smelled that had her center throbbing, flooding with liquid warmth. Her belly was melting and she felt like her entire body was on fire, unable to extinguish if she didn’t have him all over her.
She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his, his tongue eager and already feeling around her mouth. She already felt his hands circling around her waist— the flask toppling to the ground from over the side of the bed— pulling her in closer, her legs slithering around his hips. Her arms rounded his neck and she used them as leverage to allow herself to draw even further into him, deepening their kiss.
Leon kissed her with a fervor she’d felt from no one else before. He kissed her like she was his lifeline, like her lips were the tourniquet holding him together. He kissed her like he planned to infect, to invade her every sense and corrupt like a parasite. He was the sickness injecting itself into her veins and wearing down her bones but when he kissed her like that, she couldn’t find it within herself to care.
She canted her hips in his lap, feeling his erection beneath her ass, covered by the thin, fleece blanket on top of his legs. Leon hissed through his teeth as they pulled away for a moment of breath, a thin string of saliva bridging their mouths together. She glanced between it and back to the hazy storm in his eyes, dipping her chin to follow the line of spit back to his mouth, pulling him in for more.
One of Leon’s hands ventured from her waist, all the way up her back to her neck, creeping into the hair on the back of her head, his fingers woven in the tresses there. With a firm yank, her lips were pried off of his and she gasped, chin dripping with spit, another bridge of saliva drooping low towards their laps.
“Open,” Leon panted, the pad of his thumb not in her hair prying at her bottom lip. She complied, lips falling open and she watched as he gathered saliva on the tip of his tongue, leaning in closer to spit into her mouth. She hummed at his taste, stared into his eyes and he watched the lump in her throat bob as she swallowed. “Fuck.”
There still remained a bridge of spittle between their mouths and she watched from the bottom of her lids as Leon copied her actions from before— following the trail of spit until his lips were on her chin, sucking the saliva that coated her skin there.
Her lips fell agape in a gasp, eyes rolling in the back of her head as his mouth left a slimy trail of spittle down her throat, lapping at the oasis between her neck and shoulder. It was so filthy, being kissed like this but fuck, she wanted more of it. She wanted more of his spit on her skin, more of his tongue swirling on her flesh, more of his teeth etching marks into her body, more of his saliva down her throat.
Leon’s tongue whirled to the crook of her neck, the same place where she’d left a mark on him and pressed soft, tender kisses there. She could feel him breathe against her skin, his breath warm and making her saliva-coated flesh bump with chills. The palm of one of her hands smoothed over his chest, trailing all the way up to his shoulder and around his neck just as his teeth sunk into the flesh at the base of her throat, her fingers woven through the dark blonde locks at the nape of his neck, tugging.
“Oh… f..fuck,” she gasped as he sucked her skin, pressing his tongue flat to the mark he’d etched there. Her head was still tipped back and Leon used the hand curled around to the back of it to force her gaze down to his. Her eyelids fluttered open and Leon stared back through heavy, hooded lids, the blue in his irises so dark they were nearly gray, like the sky in a storm.
Her chest heaved in tandem with her breaths, feeling so entranced in the way his gaze seemed to draw her in like the sea in stormy weather. She was in the midst of his ocean, being drawn in further away from the shore the longer she stared.
“You’re so beautiful,” Leon murmured, glancing between her eyes and her lips as the hand not on the back of her head fell down to her lap, soothing patterns into the soft flesh of her thigh. She could feel her heart skip a couple of beats as his palm slipped between them, within mere centimeters from her heat.
She couldn’t look away from him. There was something so strangely haunting about the way Leon looked at her and she wasn’t sure if it was because they were both a few swigs of drink in, but there was something poignant in the murky waters of his stare. There was something about Leon Kennedy she hadn’t quite figured out yet, she knew this much. But the mystery of this man was alluring, like his story was calling out to her as if it were a siren and she was a sailor at sea. She could already feel it pulling her down, sinking further until her head was near-fully submerged in water.
As his fingertips brushed against her aching clit, she vowed that whatever it was calling out to her within Leon Kennedy, she would find it.
The pads of Leon’s middle and forefingers spun circles against her bud and she hissed.
But Leon Kennedy’s story would have to wait for now.
Burning hot pleasure blazed her skin as the memory began to fade, but still, that bliss remained, even as her vision began to clear and she was back in the one bedroom apartment she called home. There was a searing ache between her legs and she could already feel her slick begin to pool in her underwear. Her legs shook with the sheer power of her arousal and she gasped, lunging forward to grasp the edge of the kitchen counter.
She knew it was the alcohol making her feel these things, reigniting whatever sort of feeling she had for Leon Kennedy. It’d been months since the last time she’d seen him, anyways. He was but a ghost now, a distant, faint memory buried somewhere deep in the archives of her mind.
She knew it had to be because she was drunk that she was stripping herself naked and slipping into bed, leaning back against the headboard. She knew it had to be because she was drunk that her hand was sliding down between her legs, that her fingers were rubbing in all the places Leon’s once were. She knew it had to be because she was drunk that all she could think about was Leon: Leon’s hands, Leon’s fingers, Leon’s skin, Leon’s face. She could feel him all around her, possessing her, corrupting her like an infection until she couldn’t even think straight. He was circling like a vulture, thickening the air she was breathing and holding on to her every feeling, locking her in, trapping her.
She knew it had to be because she was drunk that her mouth fell open as she tossed her head back against the headboard, arching her back, rubbing her fingers over her clit harder and harder, Leon’s name tumbling from her lips. She knew it had to be because she was drunk that she was coming, that white hot bliss was shooting straight through her and out her pussy, envisioning Leon’s face between her thighs, letting not a single drop of her orgasm go to waste.
She knew it had to be because she was drunk that she swore she could hear something come from the closet across the room. Did she leave it closed like that when she left that morning? She knew it had to be because she was drunk that she didn’t care, not in the moment. All she could think to do was close her eyes and let the memory of Leon Kennedy coax her down from her high.
Leon sunk his teeth deeper into the plush of his bottom lip to stifle the sounds threatening to come out. He used one hand to steady himself against the wall, the other to fist his cock, pumping himself harder and harder in rhythm to her fingers’ ministrations against her clit. His name was slipping from between her lips and she was spread out on the bed like the incarnation of all of Leon’s vices.
There was a knot of pressure building in his sack, being strung forward with each sharp tug of his hand on his cock. He was so close, so dangerously close that he could feel it, could see it, could taste it. All he had to do was wait a moment longer, just one small second…
“Oh… oh shit, fuck! Fuck, Leon! Ri… right there!” She cried out and Leon’s eyes snapped open, watching from the slivers of openings in the closet door as her toes curled and her back arched, finally coming to her release. That knot slipped and he practically exploded into the palm of his hand, clamping his mouth closed with his opposite, willing himself to stay quiet.
Once the aftershocks of his prolonged orgasm began to fade, he leaned against the wall of the closet, trying to catch his breath as quietly as possible. He peeked through the openings in the closet door as her eyelids began to flutter closed, her heaving chest slowing until she slipped into the arms of slumber.
Leon sighed— there was only one thought that circulated his mind now.
She still thought about him.
a/n; i wrote the last like 1500 words while sitting in my bed, fan turned up to high, freezing my ass off 😃 i've found that i'm more satisfied with the outcome of my writing whenever i make myself physically uncomfortable to the point its nearly unbearable LMFAOOO
anyways! i really enjoyed writing this one and i really hope you all enjoy reading it! i'm feeling really excited to write more for the leech collection 🤭
💿 if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the entire world to me 🫶
TAGLIST
@corruptcoder @chaoticevilbakugo @luckypurins @glovesandhorror @xoxostarlet @illsksm @echo1200 @d3adp00ls @woahhajime @leonkennedygvrl @elliewilliamshotwife
#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy#leon x reader#leon resident evil#leon s kennedy#leon x you#leon kennedy x y/n#leon x y/n#resident evil#pasukiyo's leech collection
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The Red String
Miguel Ohara x Spider!reader
Summary: Legend has it, there is an invisible red thread that connects us to those we are destined to meet. Regardless of time, place, or circumstances. It may stretch and tangle but never break.
Warnings: slight ATSV spoilers, cursing, canon typical violence.
A/N: HI FELLOW SIMPS! Please enjoy this mediocre fic that I wrote because I’m in love with Miguel.
A freak.
That’s what you felt like.
But surprising enough it wasn’t due to the enhanced spider abilities like crawling up the walls and sensing a flying projectile from a mile away.
No. No, it was the issue with your fucking soul string.
Letting out a deep sigh, you swung your legs over the side of the fire escape, pulling off your glove as you examined your hand. . . Or more accurately; your pinkie finger.
The thin faded string tied around your small finger was nothing but a hinderance to you at this point. When your mind was supposed to be on New York and keeping the streets safe it was instead occupied with thoughts about the stupid little string.
Everyone had one. Hell, everyone was born with one. A soul string. Only you and one other person can see your string. To everyone else it’s invisible. Like a sort of ghost others can walk through and not even notice.
The other end of it was tied to your soulmate.
Most people go out and find theirs between the time they’re twenty and thirty, others just wait for the moment to come naturally. But in the end it was a universal fact: everyone had a soulmate.
Except for you apparently.
It was either that or they had died at some point. Either way, the end of your string didn’t go anywhere. It was a faded red and only stretched a few feet in front of you before fading into nothing. It went no where.
And that’s why you were thankful only you could see your string because of others knew. . . Oh boy would you be an outcast.
Then again, you already felt like one.
“Stupid fucking thing-“ you hissed, scraping your finger along where the string was tied in a futile attempt to get it off. But like always. . . It didn’t work. Your finger phased through it as if it were nothing more than a figment of your imagination. In other words: it wasn’t on the physical plane of existence.
You don’t know why you let it bother you so much, like hell- you were a fucking web slinging superhero, what more did you need?
As of being able to tell you were caving in on yourself, the police radio next to you crackled to life.
“Yeah, we got some sort of hi-tech robotic octopus dude climbing up the side of the bank on east 48th, we need back up over here—“
A groan of annoyance left your lips as you swung your legs back onto the fire escape, pulling your mask back on before tossing the radio into your bag.
It was always fucking something.
Why didn’t the universe ever allow you just fives minutes of peace? Sometimes all you wanted was to wallow in self pity but no. New York had to keep pumping out new villains by the handful.
But at least the journey from Greenpoint to Midtown was quick. All you had to do was go down Huron Street, leap across a few moving ferries before swinging through the midtown tunnel. Practically a walk in the park.
At least it was until you got to your destination.
Despite the obnoxious amount of light pollution that New York gave off, the explosions were easy to see and so was the weird fucking guys scaling the side of the bank with. . . What were those? Tentacles.
Coming to a stop on a roof a block or so down, you observed the scene quickly, finding potential ways to bring the guy down along with potential exit strategies of things went side ways.
It was only when you were readying yourself to dive off the side of the building and begin your attack did all your movements falter. Skidding across the gravel rooftop, you stopped at the ledge, watching with wide eyes as some other. . . person grappled with the guy you were gunning for.
A person. . . Who seems to have similar abilities to you?
Beneath your mask your eyebrows knitted together in confusion as you watched the figure swing around them, dodging blows as swiftly and quickly as you did.
At the same time the faded red string around your finger faltered. The band glitching into a violent pixelated mess before resorting to its regular bland old self once more.
You really couldn’t catch a break couldn’t you?
With an annoyed shake of your head you focused your attention back to the other spider person and the tentacle guy on the wall.
You had to get closer, maybe then you could get a better look. Plus. . . Whoever they were might need help, and who were you if not someone always there to lend a helping hand.
In the end you did end up getting a better look because the second you got close you watched as the new spider person was slammed into the side of the building, one of the mechanic arms of the enemy latched tightly around them.
Your body was moving before your brain was and a second later you where sailing through the air like a dart, your foot slamming into the jaw of the criminal.
The movement was enough to shake him and with that the cows released the person in its grasp. A mask similar to your own stared back at you, it’s eyes wide as the person beneath look at you.
“What? The least I could get is a thank you.” You speak plainly, ducking a swing from the man behind you.
“Oh uh yeah, thanks.”
Trying to multitask between taking down the guy behind you and conversing with the vigilante in front of you, you paused before bringing your foot in a swift sailing arc towards your assailant, once again knocking them down a few pegs.
“You wanna tell me whit his guy is?”
“You don’t have a Doc Ock here?”
You duck another mechanic arm, moving quickly to web it firmly to the side of the building you were currently grappling on. “What do you mean here?”
“You know, this reality?”
You paused in your movements, titling your head. “What did you smoke?”
Though you couldn’t see it, you could sense the way they rolled their eyes under their mask. “Ok enough of this, just help me take down this guy and I’ll explain everything.”
There was silence for a moment as you thought it over before quickly nodding, and with that the two of you sprung into action.
In less than two minutes the attacker was down, bound firmly in webbing on the sidewalk of the bank.
“I’ve never seen this guy before. And you sounded surprised when I said that.” You folded your arms, looking down at the unconscious villian in front of you.
“I mean, most spidermen have some variant of him in their reality.” The guy next to you shrugged.
“Their reality?” Turning your head you looked at the person next to you and the blue and red spandex suit that cling to their body.
“Yeah, you know- the multiverse?”
“Bullshit. That ain’t real.”
“Oh trust me, it is.”
You raised an eyebrow underneath your mask. “Why should I trust you? I don’t even know your name.”
“You’re kidding right?”
“Does it sound like I’m kidding?”
The so called spider-man inc don’t if you sighed, hand going to his hips. “My names Peter B. Parker. I’m from a different reality. Earth 616-B to be exact.”
Despite how ridiculous he sounded your senses were telling you everything he said was true. “How did you get here?”
“A gizmo.”
“Ok now I have to call bullshit. You have something called a fucking gizmo that got you here? That sounds like something a kid would call their toy.”
At that Peter laughs. “Oh ho! That’s good, wait till I tell Miguel that someone called his devices a child’s toy. Oh I’m gonna have to record that—“
“Miguel?”
“He’s the boss man, the one who sent me here to grab that guy.” Peter points down at the unconscious Doc Ock on the ground.
“Why?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“Well you give me a reason to ask a lot of questions.”
There’s a pause and you can only assume that beneath his mask he mouth his hanging slightly open as he thinks. “I. . . Ok fair enough. I’ll give you that. Long story short, this guy isn’t from your reality which means that if I don’t get him back to his your whole world could start to disintegrate. We call guys like this anomalies.”
It’s your turn to be quiet, your eyes wide as you listen to him. “oH. Ok then. Yeah please get this guy out of here then.” Nodding quickly, you stepped back. “I’d rather not have my world disintegrate.”
“I’m completely agree.” Peter nodded, moving to punch a code into the device on his wrist. . . Or gizmo as he called it. You nearly jumped out of your suit a moment later when a multi colored portal whizzed open behind him, brining with it a dull sort of hum that made your spider senses stand on end. “Now if you’ll excuse me I need to get this guy back to HQ for processing before sending him home.”
You could only nod silently as your eyes stayed glued to the portal, mouth hanging slightly ajar in pure wonder. “Uh yeah- yeah.”
With a swift throw, Peter launched the unconscious Doc Ock through the portal. “It was nice meeting you fellow spider. . . ling?” He nodded as he stepped into the portal himself. “Maybe I’ll see you around again at some point.”
And with that he was gone.
And you should have left it at that. You should have just watched the portal close, turn on your heel and headed home. . . Or maybe a bar. Either or sounded like a good idea.
But you did neither.
Because hair as you were readying yourself to leave the tiny red string around your finger glitched again, the fading red line pointing in the direction of the closing portal.
You were moving before your brain was, the portal closing shut behind you, drowning you in darkness.
#miguel ohara#miguel o'hara#spiderman 2099#spider man: across the spider verse#across the spiderverse#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel ohara fic
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Love As Deep As the Ocean
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Mermaid!Reader
Warnings: Simon's past, mention of blood, murder, abuse
Inspired by @halcyone-of-the-sea's work.
Word Count: 3K
Summary: Being one of the retired Knights of 141, Simon's only request was a small cottage close to the Ocean, when the King granted his wish, Simon hoped he could finally have the quiet life he longed for. But fate had other ideas.
Merfolk are incredibly curious and beautiful creatures.
Simon can recall hearing the stories about them when he was growing up.
Men warned each other about the creatures that lured men to danger and then killed them.
Simon heard stories as a young man that men hunted these creatures down. It was said that their scales are worth more than gold.
But then, as if they never existed, they disappeared.
Everyone assumed they killed them all, that every merfolk was gone.
Extinct.
Simon never believed in fairy tales.
He believed his eyes, not drawings or tales about creatures.
He believed what he saw.
And he never saw a mermaid in his life.
---
You thought he was a demon.
Always dressed in dark, covering his face.
You watched him as he walked along the beach every day. You saw him watching the sunset.
He was a strange man.
But again, all humans were strange to you.
Yet, somehow, this man captured your attention.
Every afternoon, he would come, walk along the beach to the rocks and sit there for hours, watching the sunset before leaving.
You heard that many humans enjoyed the sound of the water hitting the rocks.
You stayed far from him.
Always hidden, but you were also curious.
Then, one day, he arrived with a boat. A small fishing boat, you have seen many of.
He wasn't fishing, he was watching the water and the sky.
One day, you felt brave, you heard him snoring, which you knew meant he was sleeping on his ship.
You gripped the edge of the ship and pulled yourself up, Just below your belly button, your scales shined in the sun.
The man was lying on a chair, facing away from you.
You moved as quietly as you could, looking around his ship, you noticed something shiny not too far from you.
You reached over and touched the item before quietly falling back into the water with your newest item in hand. You quickly swam back to your underwater cave and looked at the item.
You have never seen such a thing before.
It was so shiny and weird.
You thought you had seen people with this item before, if you were correct they used it for eating.
A spoon?
Perhaps.
What a weird name for something.
The next day you found the man on his boat again, with the object in hand you swam up the surface and placed it back where you found it previously, or you tried to. It was difficult with him walking around the ship.
But you did give it back. And your mother taught you to not take things which don't belong to you.
Simon swore he had the spoon on top of the box, he swore he left it there before he fell asleep. And then, somehow, the same spoon appeared the next day on the other side of the ship in his basket.
He was going mad.
He bought this boat as a way to relax.
When he left the King's army, he knew he needed to take a step back and possibly stay away from people. So, he got a house with a small farm by the Ocean. The King gave him a piece of land of his choice, Simon found himself to be interested in the Ocean since he was young.
He often found himself wandering the sand as a child. Given how terrible his father had been with him, constantly abusing him, the Ocean calmed him.
Then he purchased the boat, giving him access to the deep blue.
He thought he could live his life like this. Quietly, in a nice secluded area.
But he kept noticing his things disappeared and then showed up on different parts of the ship.
One time he specifically tested it. He left a pair of glasses on his chair, the next time he saw them they were on the edge of his ship.
He suspected the birds, but the fact that his things got back to him was strange.
A week later, Simon was fishing from his boat near the rocks, it was a lovely sunny way.
He heard some water splashes. A weird sound, not the water against the rocks or his ship. It sounded as if someone jumped or dropped something into the water.
He recalled hearing this sound before, but now he was curious.
He quietly leaned back in his chair, looking at the back of his ship, he saw no one.
But then, the noise came again and it sounded closer. And this time, when Simon looked, he saw a young woman, leaning from the edge of the ship and reaching into his box, the box where he stores his tools.
He swore he stopped breathing and the woman looked at him, they locked eyes and she froze.
With her head stretched out, she just kept looking at him.
He caught her!
She was the one stealing from him all along!
But... how?
Then, Simon's eyes moved down her side and he saw the scales, and then he noticed the shine of her tail.
As if she sensed his thoughts, she moved quickly back into the water. Simon jumped up and rushed to where she disappeared, but he saw no one.
He swore she was only a fraction of his imagination. She had to be.
Simon never felt so confused in his life.
All those stories... were they true? Could they be true?
He looked at his toolbox and found nothing missing, then his eyes caught something shimmering on his boat.
A scale.
A beautiful, shiny scale.
He knew what it was worth. He knew what the King would give if he brought her to him. The King would give him his title back, he would be a noble knight.
Simon tried his best to remember her face. Hoping he would see her again.
He needed to be sure that he wasn't going crazy. The scale should have been enough, but no. He wanted to see her eyes again.
He put the scale into his pocket before heading home.
He couldn't sleep.
But neither could you.
This was the first time you saw his face.
It had been many many many years since a human saw you.
He was handsome, you concluded. But the fear in your heart didn't let you sleep.
You worried he would call people or hunt you down alone. You got too close and now, you feared the consequences.
You found yourself looking up at the surface of the water a lot.
But the next day, he didn't show.
Which really worried you.
But then, the next day, there it was.
The boat.
You debated swimming up or not.
It could be a trap.
You ended up going, very quietly you surfaced and looked at the side of the boat, you heard him wandering about, this is when you noticed an item on the very edge of the ship, the same one you tried to reach out for days before.
You looked around but saw no ships, no one was on the beach and he was alone on his ship judging by the footsteps.
You moved your hand and grabbed the object, swimming away, but staying on the surface.
As you swam back he came into view, he was looking at something in his box, now, he had his mask covering the lower part of his face, much like before.
He didn't seem to notice you for a moment but then he did.
You just watched him as he looked at your face.
"I'll need that for eating, lass." he said, his voice deep. He moved to the edge and you moved backwards. Keeping your eye on every movement, he reached out. "I need the fork."
You looked at the object in your hand then back up at him.
"Yes, that, now, give it to me, please?" you reached out your hand with the item and he took it. He moved back and grabbed his food, sitting down with his back to you, he started to eat.
What an interesting human he was.
You swam under his boat and grabbed the edge, coming up and looking at him, he stopped for a second.
"Can I have it once you are done?" you asked and you saw the shock in his eyes.
He didn't expect for you to speak.
"Why do you want it?"
"It's shiny. I will give it back later."
"And what if you drop it? It will go under the water and- oh, yeah, you could get it... Once I'm done, I'll wash it."
But then, you saw something better.
Around his neck. The shiniest silver you have ever seen. Simon followed your eyes and he soon realized.
"No, I'm not giving you that."
"It's a necklace. I like it."
"It's mine." you made a face of disappointment before going under. A couple minutes later you came back. He was now washing his dishes. You placed a beautiful shell on his deck.
"Trade me." you said and Simon almost laughed.
"No. It's not for sale." he said as he walked over, offering you the fork.
You thought about snatching the necklace but you rather not anger him, so you took the fork.
"Two shells?"
"No." Simon sat down and watched you admire his fork. "Are you not afraid of me?" he asked.
"Will you hurt me?" you asked and he shook his head, no. "I'm scared. But I feel like I could trust you."
"I thought mermaids were only a tale."
"Why?"
"No one has seen a mermaid before. Only the old stories lived."
"We hide, humans hunt us. They sent men like you, big, scary. The water was always red with blood. Every wave screamed with fear. Times changed, I might be the last one. I like you." you tilted your head before you handed him back the fork.
You turned to go back into the water when he spoke up.
"Will I see you again?" you looked at him and nodded.
Then, you left.
Simon looked at the shell on the deck of his ship before he looked at the water.
"Fuckin' hell." he said before he too, went home.
---
The next day, Simon found himself on his ship close to the rocks earlier than usual.
He wanted to see you.
And he didn't have to wait for long.
You showed up and sat on the edge of his ship, he nearly fell back when he saw you.
You talked a lot. He learned the fishes and sea creatures weren't much of listeners so you enjoyed talking to him very much.
This went on for weeks now.
Simon sailed out and sometimes, you were already waiting for him.
"There will be a big storm tomorrow. You should stay in your home." you said as he sat down on the edge beside you.
"How do you know, the fish told you?" he was joking but you had a serious expression, it was no joke.
"Not with words though. They swim differently when there is a change, which means a big storm."
"Will you be fine?"
"Of course. My cave is safe." he nodded.
"I won't see you tomorrow then."
"The day after, you will." you smiled before jumping into the water. "Stay safe," you said before swimming down.
Simon found himself watching the water after you left for longer each time.
---
The next day, it was indeed a huge storm with a strong wind.
Simon could hear the waves from his home.
He just hoped that you were safe.
Storms underwater are very different.
You felt the change in the weather, you felt the waves.
You worried for Simon.
You don't know what got into you, swimming out in such a storm was a terrible idea.
But your gut told you to go.
As you came to the surface even you struggled with the waves, thankfully there was no sign of him.
You wanted to head back to your cave when another wave pushed you and soon, you were too close to the beach. A huge wave pushed you against a rock which knocked you out.
You woke up on the sand with a terrible headache.
You sat up and looked around, you needed to head back to the water, you spent too much time out of it, your tail disappeared and now you had legs.
Legs you couldn't use and you were completely nude.
Instead of panicking, you took a deep breath.
You always knew that you could have legs, you could have learned and lived amongst the humans, you just chose not to.
You looked behind you and saw Simon's house.
With extremely wobbly feet, you walked over. But as soon as you stood up, you felt a pain in your ankle. You let out a groan as you continued, leaning against anything that came your way for support.
You stopped by the door and tried to open it but failed.
"I told you I'm not buying anything from you!" his voice came from inside and you wanted to laugh.
He thought you were someone else, the annoying man who came by every month, trying to sell him things.
"Too bad, I have great shells to sell." you replied as you tried the handle again. The door suddenly opened and you nearly fell inside. Thankfully you were leaning against the doorframe. "I think I broke my ankle."
Simon's eyes nearly popped out of his head.
"Since when do you have ankles?!" he asked as he scooped you up and walked you inside his house.
He put you on his couch before leaving for his bedroom, he grabbed some clothes and helped you put them on.
"You have a nice home."
"Since when do you have legs?"
"I always did, once I completely dry, I-"
"Why did you let yourself dry?"
"I didn't. Last night I got worried that something happened to you, so I swam up but the waves were too strong. I got washed out of the water and knocked out."
"You could have died."
"Why? I can't drown."
"What if someone saw you?"
"No one lives here but you. The man you complain about lives in the village near the mountain, he comes to the beach to collect shells." he finally looked into your eyes and you lifted your hand and placed your palm against his cheek.
"I will take you back to the Ocean. It is where you belong." he said as he stood up and walked into his kitchen.
"I belong with you." you said once he returned.
"You don't want to. I'm a terrible man."
"It can't be that bad."
"I killed people, for the King. I was one of his knights."
"Okay, so?"
"You are perfect. Your hair, your skin, your eyes, your shape, your tail... everything about you is perfection. You are so pure, I don't deserve something so pure."
"You told me you have felt a pull towards the Ocean ever since you were a child."
"So, you will tell me that I was drawn to it because of you? I was drawn because I had an abusive father who drank and beat me, not because of a fairy tale." he moved closer to you, it made you grab the silver around his neck. He could see the anger in your eyes as you stood up.
"What happened to you is terrible yes, however fairy tales keep people hoping, keep people going, believing. You rather see the dark in the world and people but what did you see in me? What made you come into the sea, day after day? What made you buy a house here? I was ready to give up the Ocean, give up my tail so I can be with you, but it looks like I misjudged you." you snapped the dog tags off of his neck. He was too stunned to speak or to move. "I love you. And I know you know that I love you. You can keep running away, calling yourself a monster, stuck in your past, crying over it." you walked out of his house, it took a moment for Simon to follow you, by the time he rushed after you, you were gone, he only saw the ripple in the water.
He reached up and touched his neck where you took the silver from.
You took a piece of him with you.
---
You cried your heart out.
You weren't even sure anymore why you took the necklace.
Simon Riley
Knight Lieutenant
141
You looked at the engraved letters for hours. The pain in your chest never subdued.
A couple of days later, you heard his ship, the unmistakable noise of the metal and wood was loud and clear. You swam up.
"Are you here? Can you hear me? How does one reach a mermaid?!" he grew frustrated within the minute. "If you can hear me, I'm sorry. I truly think you are too pure for me. Every night, when I fell asleep I saw the blood, the bodies and the horrible things I had done. But not lately. Lately, ever since I met you, I dreamt of you. Your beauty and your scales, your smile and your excitement when I talked with you. I love you too. It's just... I'm afraid I will ruin you, I'm afraid that I will make you miserable. I cannot let myself ruin such an amazing thing like you." you heard him drop to the floor, you moved and pulled yourself up against the side, you found him sitting across from you, looking at the floor, you threw the necklace at him, it landed in front of him and he quickly looked up and looked at you.
"You have bad excuses. I forgot I have a tendency to lure men with my song and then drown them for fun. I'm not as pure as you say. I stole things from people, I sleep in a cave filled with gold and things I took. I stole men's hearts, making them fall in love and follow me into the dark depths of the water. I didn't know humans found their pasts so... important."
"You are right. I shouldn't find it so important. But I'm afraid I will end up like him." he said as he picked up the silver and ran his thumb along the letters.
"How many people did you help? When you were a knight, how many did you help?"
"I don't know."
"A few? A lot?"
"Probably a lot."
"Then why not think of them instead of the bad?" you had a point and he knew it.
After a minute of silence, you pulled yourself up and onto his deck, you crawled over to him, he pulled you into his chest, hooking his arm under your tail, he held you close as his head moved to your neck.
He took a deep breath.
"Can I still have you?" he asked and you ran your hand from his chest to his neck.
"I think you always had me. Even before we met. You might not, but I sure believe in fate." he squeezed you tighter as you moved your nose into his hair and smelled it.
"I cannot give you a bed of gold, but I can offer you my humble little cottage. I wouldn't force you to live like a human, stay a mermaid, please." he pulled back and you looked into his eyes.
"Then how would we make love?" his eyes widdened as you smiled and kissed his lips.
It felt so right.
So right to be with him, so right to kiss him and become his.
And you knew, that this was only the beginning of your life with your retired Knight.
A/N: Hi All! I really hope you enjoyed this piece. I left the ending open for potential continuation, let me know if you have any ideas. Please also check out @halcyone-of-the-sea's amazing piece with John Price! I did talk with her and she approved of me writing this piece.
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A WHOLE NEW WORLD
Shanks x Mermaid!reader
Part 2
Summary: A curious and reckless little mermaid with a love for humans glimpses a beach with a dock from afar and a child playing, she will learn more about the human world
Warnings: fluffyfluffyfluffy - no proofread - inspired by the little mermaid (duh)
Wc: 4k
What you loved most in the world was observing humans and not only them but also everything that was on the surface. Sometimes you sat on rocks in the middle of the sea and looked at the coast where there were things that you didn't have at the bottom of the ocean. It's not that you despised your life down there but sometimes it used to be kind of boring. Up there there were different kinds of plants, animals, and the human homes had strange shapes but were tall and beautiful. Your parents weren't so strict and understood your curiosity better than anyone so they often let you surface as long as you stayed away from the coast. But what they were really harsh on was the pirate ships, they hated them. They always told you stories about heartless humans who hunted animals and mermaids to do who knows what with them. These stories scared you a little but you knew that your parents weren't trying to do that when telling them to you, they simply wanted you to be aware of the dangers up there.
One day you were lying belly down on some flat rocks enjoying the sun on your scales when in the distance you heard a high-pitched, squeaky voice followed by laughter. You stood up like a seal, resting your hands on the rock and in the distance you saw a child who was playing near a dock. You've never seen a child so small. Moved by curiosity, you sank into the water and slowly approached the wooden dock to get a better look. This would definitely not please your parents who told you so many times to stay away from the coast, but they didn't have to know it.
"GIVE UP MARINE OR YOU WILL SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES, GRAAAH!"
You couldn't help but smile. The little boy had curly brown hair and was wearing a white t-shirt with red stripes. He was playing with some wooden dolls. The boy emanated such a happy energy that you got even closer until you were under the dock, trying not to let him see you.
"YOU CAN'T AGAINST THE GREAT LUFFY, KING OF THE PIRATES!"
You giggled when you heard it, but even though you tried to be silent, the boy heard you and turned around looking for where the laughter was coming from. Scared, you went deeper into the water.
"What was that? Is there anyone there?"
Little Luffy approached the dock and you could hear his footsteps echoing on the wood while you prayed from below that he wouldn't see you.
"Come on, get out of wherever you are!"
Suddenly the boy turned upside down and stuck his head out from under the dock, discovering you. You walked away while hugging a pole that supported the pier, scared. The boy opened his eyes wide but then smiled widely and his eyes narrowed.
"Hi!! what's your name?"
You remained silent, looking at him scared. You had never been so close to a human and even though he was just a child you were afraid that he would give you away, the existence of mermaids was supposed to be a mystery, a myth, legends that were told to children to entertain them. Luffy noticed your fear and calmed you down.
"Please don't be afraid, I won't hurt you."
You decided to trust the boy, he seemed to be honest so with your ability to speak different languages, even dead languages, you answered him.
"I'm (y/n)"
You moved a little away from where you were holding and waved your tail in the water, the little one gasped excitedly and you smiled.
"Oh what a pretty tail you have, I've never seen a mermaid before!!!"
The boy, who was already a little dizzy from having his head hanging, straightened up and rested his head between his hands and his elbows on the wood while you approached the edge timidly. Little Luffy was excited to chat with you and learn new things about you. With your hands on the edge of the dock you told him about your life at the bottom of the sea.
"Luffy do you want to see a trick?"
He nodded his head vigorously, smiling happily, showing all his white teeth. You placed your palm on the water and collected a little water, then with your other hand you made a movement and the water became a large drop that floated in the air and then a few seconds later it burst and became a puddle again. . Luffy shouted happily and clapped his hands enthusiastically. You laughed, infected by his joy, that child was adorable. Suddenly a voice came from afar and seemed to get closer.
"LUFFY! WHERE ARE YOU, KID?"
The two of you looked at each other startled as the boy jumped to his feet and you went back to hide under the dock. A man with an open white shirt and red hair was heading towards Luffy.
"Luffy, where have you been, brat? I looked for you everywhere". He told him affectionately
"Sorry Shanks, I was just playing pirates and marines"
"Again? You always play that, don't you get tired?"
"Never, because when I grow up I will also be a great pirate like you!"
The little guy puffed out his chest proudly and stood on his hips while Shanks laughed and ruffled his hair.
"Alright pirate let's get back to the ship you still have to help me"
The redhead walked away from there and you slowly came out of hiding to spy on him, you were sorry you couldn't get a good look at him but his hair color caught your attention and you liked it. You also thought it was cute the way he addressed Luffy, so kind and warm. When he left you approached the edge of the dock again and Luffy told you
"I'm sorry, I have to go or he'll be angry."
Now the boy's face seemed downcast and his tone was sad, very different from his happy attitude before. You nodded and told him you understood. Before he ran away you begged him.
"Please don't tell anyone that you saw me."
"Don't worry, it will be our secret. Will I see you again tomorrow?"
"I'll be here". You said sealing a promise
The brown boy trotted happily towards where the adult had gone and you stood there sighing. You hoped he would keep his word and not say anything and at the same time you were excited to have found a human friend.
DAYS AFTER
The next day you returned to the dock with Luffy and so on the next day and the day after that. Several days passed where you played with the boy that you were a damsel in distress and he had to save you. And just as he learned from you, you learned from him, you knew that Shanks cared for him and lived on his ship and his pirate crew. One sunny afternoon you and Luffy were playing on the coast a little far from the pier, the boy had entered the sea next to you and was caressing your mermaid tail that shone in the sun's rays. It was the color of sunsets when the sun dies on the horizon.
"Ah! it's very slippery!". The surprised boy laughed
You laughed happily "Thank you, I follow an intensive beauty treatment". You mocked
They were both laughing while you did tricks in the water. Suddenly a familiar voice came to you again, it was Shanks.
"Come on Luffy! It's late, go back to the ship!"
You barely had time to hide by sinking your head in the water and the boy ran to the shore splashing water. Shanks approached with a small furry white dog.
"Oh please just a little longer"
"I already said no besides, why do you want to be here? Were you playing alone?"
Luffy looked towards the sea and you were praying under the water that the little one wouldn't miss saying that he was playing with a real mermaid. Luffy saw the red-haired man again.
"Yes, what's wrong with that? I was jumping the waves."
Shanks laughed shaking his head "Alright, alright you can continue jumping waves tomorrow but that's enough for today, come on"
The pirate patted the boy's shoulder and gently pushed him away. Luffy snorted but obeyed him and trotted away. Shanks stood for a while admiring the sun bet. The little dog followed him and started barking.
"Hey little one, why did you follow me? Do you feel like playing?"
In response, the white dog barked twice and Shanks, laughing, started chasing him, throwing small branches at him and the canine returned them happily. Under the water you smiled, feeling your heart warmer. You got a little closer without taking your head out of the water to see him better. He was still wearing that white shirt but now he was wearing a straw hat on his head. He had a smile as warm as the sun and beautiful brown eyes, you had met hundreds of humans but no one as beautiful as him, he was beautiful inside and out. At one point Shanks threw the branch into the water and the dog went to look for it but before grabbing it he started barking like crazy looking in your direction. You see the redhead calling the dog
"Come on, bring it! What's going on?"
The little white dog wouldn't stop barking and Shanks got impatient and came dangerously close to the shore, putting his feet in the water. Impulsively you swam deeper into the water and that caused waves in the sea. The curious redhead got a little closer as the dog began to walk towards the dock, he was following you. Shanks trotted after him while you hid under the wooden dock but the dog was very smart and easily found your hiding place. You stuck your head out as you desperately tried to shush the dog and make him shut up. Too late. The red-haired captain had already arrived at the small dock and was looking for the dog.
"What's the problem, crazy dog? What do you-!"
Standing in the sand on the side of the pier, Shanks saw you there motionless and with your face twisted in terror. A mermaid. You had long hair with tiny pearls and a seaweed top with a single strap, your tail that could be seen in the crystal clear water was an ombré between red and orange. Shanks froze in place and he couldn't help but admire you with his eyebrows raised. He slowly approached but you gasped and quickly got into the water.
"Wait no! Don't leave!"
The man slowly climbed onto the dock and sat down trying to see you but the water was still. He looked around as he scratched his neck in confusion. Had it been his imagination or had he really seen a mermaid? And a beautiful one at that.
"Please don't go, I didn't want to scare you, I'm so sorry" . He tried to calm down
Shanks waited for a response, a movement in the water but it never came, without giving up he spoke again.
"I'm Shanks, what's your name?"
Silence
The captain sighed and was about to get up and turn to leave when he heard a slight splashing noise. I looked at the sea and there you were close, barely sticking out half of your face so that only your eyes stood out to see it. He smiled and sat like a Buddha on the edge of the pier. He didn't know what to say, he just looked at you dumbfounded. Your eyes were so expressive that with just one look you said everything. You looked at him surprised and with a hint of curiosity.
"Hi, come closer, I promise not to hurt you" . He raised his hands in a sign of peace.
You frowned but decided to trust him since the little you had seen of that pirate were good things. You sank your head and swam until you were close to the edge, you stuck your head out again and looked at him expectantly. The captain thought that up close you were even more stunning.
"You are the most fascinating creature I have ever seen."
You smiled, wrinkling your nose, and the redhead felt like his heart was about to explode in his chest.
"Well, now will you tell me your name?". He asked hopefully.
You pouted thoughtfully and then opened your mouth doubtfully.
"(y/n)"
He smiled happily "(y/n)~, beautiful name"
You felt your heart beat faster. Hearing your name slip across his lips with so much grace made you see stars in broad daylight. Suddenly the little dog approached the edge of the dock and lowered his head to see you and smell you. More animated, you gently took a finger out of the water and touched the dog's nose, laughing childishly. Shanks felt in paradise with you and listening to your voice.
"Is the puppy yours?" You asked softly.
"Who, this rascal? No, he just followed me when I was walking around the island". He petted the dog and you giggled happily, he smiled back at you.
Moved by the curiosity to know more about this man who made your heart beat, you rested your arms on the edge of the dock closer to him. You shouldn't be so reckless, but could a pirate who is compassionate towards children and animals really be so cruel? Shanks was surprised but feeling the same curiosity as you, he began to ask you things.
"So tell me what mermaids like you do apart from making the poor men who walk along the coasts fall in love with them?"
You opened your eyes wide and buried your face in your hands as he let out soft laughs shaking his shoulders. Why did he say those sweet things to you?
"Is it true that they also bewitch them and throw them into the sea?"
You frowned until you wrinkled your face and shook your head vigorously. "No! Those are the sirens, we are very different!". You said ofended
He laughed nervously, raising his hands again in a sign of surrender "Ok ok I'm sorry I didn't mean to offend you."
So the minutes passed and they continued talking impatiently. He delighted in hearing your bell-shaped voice and staring at your eyes that seemed to shine with excitement when you commented on your admiration for the surface. Your little face wrinkled when you talked about something you didn't like and relaxed again when I told him about your family, you were an open book. Shanks learned a lot about you and your soul, you were a naturally curious being with a kind heart. You absorbed every bit of information he gave you about him like a sponge while you rested your head tilted on your arms and cast a dreamy gaze on him. You suddenly laughed in delight and casually commented
"You're just like Luffy." You said with a sing-song laugh.
He looked at you confused "Wait, Luffy? Do you know him?"
At that moment you raised your eyebrows worried and then bit your lip looking down. Those meetings were supposed to be a secret but when you started talking there was no one to stop you. Shanks, far from getting angry, laughed out loud, clutching his stomach.
"Now I understand why he went alone to the dock every afternoon"
He looked at you happy and you smiled in relief. Then Shanks took off his hat and delicately reached out to put it on your head. At first you wanted to back away scared but you stayed in your place. The hat was a little bigger than your head and covered your face. When he finished putting it on you, you raised your head slightly to see him from below with your shoulders slightly hunched and your face red like the pirate's hair. He laughed softly, you looked so cute in his hat. You bit your lower lip in a smile that wanted to be mischievous but on you it looked innocent as if you had committed a prank. In his eyes you were the sweetest mermaid in all of East Blue. You touched the brim of the hat and made to take it off but he stopped you by placing his hand in yours and placing the straw hat back on your head.
"Please keep it, so I'll have an excuse to see you again."
Gasping surprised, looking with her mouth slightly open, did he want to see you again? Why suddenly all the humans you met wanted to see you again?
"I'll give it back to you tomorrow, I promise."
"I know you'll do it"
And you put out a dripping hand to take his. The change in temperature was noticeable between the two of you, your hand was very cold and his was warm. You extended your pinky and intertwined his. You didn't know what it meant but you had seen children do it once.
He laughed and walked away with the dog following him, wagging his tail happily. You stayed near the dock trying to retain that feeling that the pirate had left you. Now you felt that the water was warmer as well as your skin. You sighed long and smiling you returned to the sea
The next day you kept your promise and returned to the dock. There Shanks was already waiting for you, drawing doodles in the sand. When he saw you from a distance, his face lit up with a big smile and he approached the wooden surface barefoot. The first thing he saw was your red tail and then he saw your expressive and mischievous eyes peek out from under the water. You pulled your face out completely as he crouched down a little and placed his hands on his bent knees to get a better look at you.
"Have you brought my hat, miss?"
You nod cheerfully and take your hand out of the water to reveal a soaked straw hat, the fabric had softened a little from the humidity but it was healthy. When you gave it to him he crumpled it a little to get rid of the water and put it on his head. Some drops from the hat continued to drip down his face and wet his hair. The brim of the hat fell towards his face and you could only laugh. He smiled and laughed with you, lifting the straw brim to look at you better.
"I guess it looks better on you than it does on me."
"I'm sorry" You said between laughs. "I tried to keep it as dry as possible, that's why I wanted you to keep it but you insisted on taking it with me."
He sat down "Don't worry honey, it will dry out if I put it in the sun. Plus I wanted to give it to you so you can think about me". He finished saying flirty
Your face turned slightly the color of your tail and you tilted your head towards your shoulder as you gripped the edge of the dock. Now being closer you could see his features. His brown eyes shining just for you, his small beard of days. Everything about him was perfect and he caught your attention, a kind face, that's what you wanted to see for a long time. You were so enthralled admiring its beauty that you almost forgot something.
"Oh wait I almost forgot!" . You said, raising your hand and waving it in front of him, asking him to wait for you right there.
In the blink of an eye you disappeared into the water before Shanks' perplexed but amused gaze. After a few minutes you reappeared and left a beautiful mother-of-pearl shell on the dock near his feet. He grabbed it and examined it curiously. She was really beautiful
"This is for me?". He looked at you
You nod, staring at him "It's a tradition and a kind of legend. Inside that conch I enclosed a song, every time you put it to your ear you will be able to hear my voice. But you will have to return it to me after six days or I will not be able to sing again. When a mermaid gives a conch to a person… she's swearing eternal love." . You finished shyly
The pirate was listening to you attentively until you mentioned the last part and his eyes widened and his eyebrows raised. He stayed looking at you for a few seconds, your eyes seemed sincere and now he felt his own cheeks getting hot. To hide his embarrassment he looked towards the conch and was going to put it to his ear when you stopped him.
"No!... not yet. Listen to it when you feel alone and I'm not by your side"
Shanks smiled tenderly at you with that warm smile you loved to see. Then he took your hand and intertwined it with yours, promising to do so. You two continued talking animatedly about anything. The red-haired man felt like he could be the same with you and you felt the same way. You even playfully pushed him into the water to play. When the afternoon fell you saw the horizon with sadness and he noticed it.
"What's wrong sweetness?"
You stopped seeing the horizon and looked at him sadly. "It's time for me to come back, my family will be worried…"
He simply sighed and nodded and stared at you. Before you could leave he came over and threatened to kiss you on the cheek.
"Did you know that if you do that you will get scales…?"
Shanks frowned and scoffed at his confused expression, his expressions softening.
"I was kidding Shanks, you should see your face." . You said playfully
He raised an eyebrow, playing along with you and smiling. “I was going to take the risk anyway, little one.”
He finished tilting his face and gave you the warmest, sweetest kiss. His lips were soft on your cheek and his beard scratched you lightly. They promised to see each other again. That night Shanks locked himself in his room and listened to the conch. The sound was sweet and in tune like hearing an angel sing. He closed his eyes and fell asleep listening to your singing
TIME AFTER
Shanks walked around the deck of his ship carrying things from here to there. Despite that, he seemed quite distracted, earning the ridicule of his crew.
"Is the captain drunk again or is it because of a woman?"". A sailor laughed out loud
The redhead ignored the mockery, rolling his eyes. No one knew that he was seeing a beautiful mermaid, not even young Luffy. Every night he would lie in his bed and listen to the conch, imagining that it was you singing for him. So the afternoon passed and suddenly he remembered what you had told him. But you will have to return it to me after six days or I will not be able to sing again
Startled, he tried to remember the last time he saw you. Exactly six days had passed. Shit. But night had not yet fallen, perhaps I could return it to you before the end of the day and save your voice.
The most exalted captain ordered them to hoist the sails and set out to sea. The others looked at him confused but obeyed his orders. Even Luffy asked him what was happening but Shanks answered vague things. In his mind there was only room for you and the desire to be able to give you the conch.
Meanwhile you were in the sea sticking your head out waiting to see your loved one. You were worried because you couldn't find him anywhere and he wasn't on the shore like he usually did. You didn't care that much about the conch, you just wanted to see him again and the thought that he had forgotten about you sank your heart like a heavy rock. Suddenly in the distance you saw a pirate ship. Was it Shanks'? All the pirate stories that your parents had told you came to your mind.
"Be strong and brave (y/n). It's now or never". You said with determination
If your parents saw you now they would have a fit. You swam quickly towards the ship until you were a few meters away. Suddenly a scream startled you and you looked up. There was Shanks looking at you with a relieved smile. Just in time as the sun was very close to the horizon
"HELP ME GET HER ON BOARD!!"
Somewhat scared, you saw how they pulled a boat and the pirate told you to get on it. With effort you jumped into the wooden boat. With some ropes they began to lift you up quickly. The pirates' voices became louder and closer and when you were up there a lot of curious eyes were looking at you. You felt intimidated and helpless. Shanks knew it so he approached you trying to make you look only at him to calm you down.
"Here I am, calm down"
And it worked because as soon as you saw it, it was as if everything around you had become more blurry. I smiled shyly. Then Shanks called a pirate and when he approached he handed him something. It was the conch. He handed it to you delicately as if it were a ritual, fearing that it would break the pearl. You grabbed it and at that moment the conch began to twinkle softly like a star, until it shone as bright as a small sun. The pirates approached curiously as the light illuminated them. Shanks's brown eyes turned amber as they were illuminated by the conch.
Suddenly the pearly object suddenly went out. You hummed softly to check if it had worked and your face lit up in a big smile when you saw that you could indeed sing. You were happy and looked at him excitedly, laughing airily. He smiled back at you and came closer to you, resting his arms on the boat.
"What had you told me about kissing a mermaid? That I would grow scales and turn into a fish?"
You laughed loudly until your nose wrinkled. Without thinking you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in to kiss him. With so much force that you pulled him and he fell into the boat with you. He hugged you, putting his arms around your waist while the pirates whistled, applauded and cheered for their captain.
#female reader#one shot#imagine#opla#opla x reader#one piece live action#one piece netflix#shanks#red haired shanks#red hair shanks#opla shanks#shanks x reader#shanks x you#shanks one piece#shanks opla#shanks x y/n#shanks x female reader#opla shanks x reader#opla shanks x you#mermaid reader
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bird of prey (tendou x reader)
series masterlist | ao3
Pairing: Tendou x Reader, Bokuto x Reader
Series Summary: Satori Tendou is your best friend, but you fuck for fun.
Chapter Title: Act I, Scene 1 — Play Like Lovers
Chapter Summary: Satori likes your current arrangement. You're friends, arguably the best of friends, and sometimes you fuck. Well, it's more than sometimes. Like rabbits, really.
Chapter Content Warnings: afab!reader, college au, friends with benefits, no strings attached, angst, oral sex (m!receiving), teasing, bokuto is in this too, ushijima mentions, mentions of breeding, mentions of pregnancy, slowish burn (?) they're already fucking tho so romantically speaking, teasing, dirty talk
Word Count: 6.7k
A/N: i missed tendou and ended up deciding to write this. i don't have any chapters prewritten so updates will likely be slow, but im trying out a new thing so bear with me. it's probably better read on ao3, but im posting it here too. formatting is the bane of my existence. enjoy <3
next >
Satori likes the cold. He always has. He likes the bite of it. The way it makes his skin feel when he’s been standing outside long enough that the cold begins to feel hot across his cheeks.
There’s a certain solitude to winter that Satori appreciates. It’s as if the world has had a blanket thrown over it and everything becomes muffled and quiet. Sometimes winter makes Satori feel like he’s on another planet, floating through a silent universe in a perpetual winter. He especially feels this way when it snows. He loves the world when it’s like this, calm and quiet and so hazy that he can’t see the street sign a block down.
Satori blinks winter from his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows as they begin to water to fight the cold. He inhales, tucking his hands further into his puffy jacket as the crisp air fills his lungs. It’s a quiet night. The first snowy one of the season, and snowflakes fall like little diamonds onto a thinly coated sidewalk.
He doesn’t have a particular destination in mind. Satori is just wandering, savoring the feel of the evening as he strolls through his neighborhood. There are a scant few people outside. It's a weeknight and the neighborhood surrounding campus is eerily quiet in these small hours of the morning. Only the occasional drunk or a couple loved up and leaning on one another, their hands intertwined in the pockets of one of their coats.
Tendou thinks that he could only become one of those two options. The drunk seems to have far less to worry about, stumbling across the sidewalk before coming to a stop on a slanted curve and letting his head fall onto his crossed arms. Not that Satori would want to be him. Don’t get him wrong. He’s not judging. How one man lives his life is absolutely none of Satori’s business and, in the same way he prefers people don’t mind what he does, he won’t mind what the neighborhood drunk does. Still, on a sliding scale of difficulty, the drunk seems to—for the moment—have it easier in Satori’s eyes. Only one person to worry about.
It’s nearing three in the morning and the world has taken on an eerily slanted feel to it. Satori likes the world like this, calm and quiet. No one to talk to or worry about, only the sound of his boots against the thin layer of snow. There’s no crunch, as it hasn’t stuck yet, but if it keeps snowing like this, Satori thinks that it might. He looks forward to it, tilting his head up toward the sky and feeling the soft sting of bitter cold snow as it falls on his cheeks.
—
Teeth, tongue, the press of your body arching up to meet his. It’s hot today, the way you move. Rushed like you’re trying to get something done. Music plays quietly from your computer on the desk and your hands fumble blindly around his body, eyes screwed shut as you let your tongue explore the inside of his mouth.
“You’re eager,” he coos, detaching himself from your lips.
“Sh, sh, sh,” you mumble, pulling him back down to you by the back of his neck and delivering a sloppy kiss. “Keep your voice down.”
“Why?” He asks back, still connected at the lips.
“My housemates don’t know you’re here,” you answer, pushing on his shoulders.
Tendou gives in, letting you turn him over on the bed so that his back is against your headboard. You settle over his hips evenly, placing yourself like you belong there. He wouldn’t be surprised if you felt that way. This is regular enough that you end up like this a lot. Straddling his thighs with your hands on either side of his face.
You tilt your head, kissing your way down his jaw. Your lips press onto the side of his neck and he can feel the way your tongue darts out to taste the salt on his neck. Your hands roam freely up the other side of his neck and across the back of his head, almost like you can’t feel enough of him fast enough. They raised goosebumps along his skin, teasing the parts your mouth isn’t touching.
“And I don’t really want them to find out,” you say into his neck. Tendou feels the hum in his collarbone and shutters.
“And why’s that?” He breathes out, his lithe fingers coming up to pull your hips down against him. Tendou figures that if you’re going to rock your hips back and forth like that, you might as well do it like you mean it.
“They’ll give me shit for hooking up with you all the time instead of getting a real date,” you answer through your breathing. “Something about self respect.”
Tendou leans his head back against the headboard, looking at you over the tops of his cheeks. You’ve pulled up his shirt and your body is curled over itself, your mouth smearing down his heaving chest as far as your posture will let it go.
He supposes that’s fair.
“Suppose you haven’t told them that the no strings attached thing is mutual?” He teases, tilting his head to the side to let you continue to kiss at his neck.
He slides his fingers under the fabric of your sleep shirt, cool fingertips hitting your warm back. Tendou presses his palm flat on your lower back and you shiver away from him, pushing your chest up against his. He likes the way you move. Something about it scratches an itch he’s got. Like watching marbles in a chain reaction.
“I have,” you say, reaching between the two of you to undo his pants. Tendou slips his fingers into the waistband of your sweatpants, cupping your ass in his hands. “They just don’t believe me.”
“Hah,” he laughs, tilting his chin forward to kiss you again. He likes the way you taste. “That’s funny.”
“Ugh, can we like,” you pull away from him, your eyes glazed over and your eyebrows furrowed. You keep one hand on the back of his neck, the other splayed on his chest and Tendou idly rolls the fat of your ass across his fingertips.
“Can we like, what?” He imitates through a grin, tilting his head.
“Not talk about this?” You say, rolling your hips. “Because I really want to fuck you right now and it’s sort of killing my vibe.”
Tendou chuckles at the way you drop your head and roll your hips against him, tipping his head back again as he lets out a low groan.
“If it means we get to fuck then sure thing,” he drawls, guiding your hips over his crotch by the fat of your ass.
You groan, exposing the hollow of your throat to him as you lean backwards. Tendou leans up to meet you, placing his lips near your pulse point. He bites down on your neck lightly and savors the slight gasp you let out, salving the ache with a quick swipe of his tongue. You cling to him like velcro, rocking your hips over his hardened cock through your clothes. It’s so desperate that it’s almost juvenile, though you’re both well past the phase of being too prudish to not take them off.
He sighs, sliding his hands from your ass and up your back. He cups your shoulders around your body, letting you move your hips against him. Tendou finds that he likes to let you do what you want. There’s really nothing you can’t take from him and as far as he’s concerned, nothing’s off limits. He’s playing a game and right now, letting you win is the most interesting option.
You reach between them to pick up where you left off, fumbling in his pants to palm at him over his boxers, still rocking your hips against the inside of your wrist. Satori groans lightly at the weight of your hand. He likes it. His dick just fucking fits.
You slide your hand back and forth, teasing him the way that you know he likes it. God, in moments like these, Satori is convinced that you’re perfect. You and that perfect body, that perfect fucking pussy. All of it just sort of clicks.
The sexual chemistry between the two of you is palpable. It really always has been. Even when the two of you swore up and down that you were just friends, Satori knew that eventually you’d fuck. And of course, he was right. Months later and here he is, leaning up against your headboard after sneaking in through the window while you give him an over-the-boxers handjob that feels better than what he can do to himself for some reason.
You need it almost every night, and if it isn’t every night, it’s at least three times a week. You’re always together anyways, might as well throw some heavy petting into the mix while you’re at it. That’s just as well with Tendou. Personally, he’s always willing to fuck you if you need it. Especially when you need it. You just get this pretty look in your eye. It’s a lot like the one you’re wearing now, mouth slightly open as you free him from his boxers and swipe the precum from the tip of his dick with your thumb. Satori shudders. It’s perfect.
“If you’re going to fuck me, you should just do it,” he says, his face contorting slightly as you grip his cock in your hand and begin to shift backward between his legs.
“Shut up,” you retort, looking at him through your lashes. “I know you love this shit.”
“Yeah, fuck-” he groans as you take the tip of him into your mouth. “You’re right. I love a tease.”
Good conversation. Good sex. A good friend. There’s really nothing more he could ask for.
Satori brushes the hair from your face, holding it back on your forehead so that he can see the way your mouth takes him in. It’s soft and warm and you hollow your cheeks around his cock in a way that drives him insane. You look so pretty down there. So giving and malleable. And get this, you do it because you like it. God, how fucking sexy.
He likes the way you look from this angle, your eyebrows knitted together and your ass up in the air. He can see the way you rub your thighs together, small pulses that tell him that when he finally gets down there, you’re going to be soaked. You feel good too. Soft skin, soft mouth.
Satori lets out a groan, reaching forward to play with the meat of your ass. He kneads the skin there, rubbing his thumb back and forth against it as if he were just trying to feel it. It hides your face from him for a moment and Satori is sad for the loss, but your ass is soft and giving and you push it back against his hand like you like the way he touches you. Of course you do, Satori only touches you in ways he knows you’re going to like. It gets him off.
You swirl your tongue around his cock, your other hand gripping the base of him and moving along with your mouth. When you do try to take him all the way in, you cough lightly around it, raising your head to catch your breath before lowering your mouth back down. His lower stomach ties itself into knots. That familiar swell begins to mount in him and his muscles tense against his will. Your mouth works him until that slow moving wave pushes against whatever barrier it needs to break for him to finish.
You stop before he gets to cum and Satori feels that swell of pleasure recede into the back of his gut. He pouts momentarily, his chest heaving as you discard your sweatpants and crawl back over him.
Satori places his hand over your cunt like it's a habit. He rubs over your slick folds with four fingers, evening applying pressure across your whole pussy because he knows that it frustrates you. In response, you let out an exasperated groan and grind down against his hand. That only makes it better when he finally centers in on your clit, two fingers dipped between your lips to rubbing at the throbbing bud.
He plays with it for a moment, moving his fingers in a continuous circle. You’re so wet that Satori doesn’t even need to lick his fingers, but he does anyway because he wants to taste you. Slowly, he raises them to his lips and sucks your pleasure off of them, eyeing you while he does so. Then, he places his other hand on your chin and gently forces your mouth open, sliding his two fingers across your tongue.
The muscle gives under the weight of his fingers. Pleasantly, delightfully, you let him mold you. You let him open your mouth further and stick them deeper—all the way into the warm, wet back of your mouth—until you gag around them. It’s an awful sound. Wet and desperate and it leaves you panting when he pulls them out, but Satori likes you messy. He likes you when you’re drooling for it, saliva pooling under your tongue for just a taste of what he gives you.
Don’t get him wrong, it’s not a power trip thing. It’s borne out of pure fascination. Like the way scientists like to study molecules, Satori likes to study you. You’re interesting to him. The first to follow through on sex only being sex because Satori—well, Satori fucks you like he loves you. And he loves that you don’t get caught up in it.
You’re desperate for it today. Satori can tell because you don’t even let him finger you before you’re guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance.
“What? No condom?” He drawls through a sly grin.
“Not tonight,” you pant, screwing your eyes shut. Satori’s hands move to your hips, squeezing the fat there and admiring its delightful give. “Don’t have one.”
“What ever happened to safe sex?” He says through gritted teeth, craning his neck forward to get a good view.
“You worried you gonna get me pregnant?” you give a breathy laugh, sinking all the way down on him.
“Depends, you gonna let me finish inside?” he asks through a locked jaw as he feels the warmth of you envelop him.
“Fuck no,” you say, beginning to move your hips.
Satori inhales through his teeth, leaning backwards and holding you by the hips. You take the lead tonight, rolling your hips forward with slow, almost calculated, flicks. He guides you, his fingers gripping at the side of your ass, pulling it apart as best he can. He likes the way it feels when he holds you like this and wonders briefly what it looks like from the back when he lets you fuck him like this.
The music from your laptop is drowned out by the quiet sounds of your breathing. The only thing Satori really hears is the both of you, stifling moans to prevent your housemates from figuring out what you’re up to. He grits his teeth.
Satori has always been on the more vocal side of things. Talking, moaning, laughing, things like that. This though, this is hot too. Like this, he can hear every little change in your breathing. He can hear every time he hits that particularly sensitive spot inside of you. Shit, he can even hear his own breathing, labored and low and mirroring your desperation like you’re both cut from the same cloth.
He loves being inside of you. It’s comfortable. It always feels good in a way Satori has found is hard to come by. You’ve got a good pussy and an even better attitude about it.
When you get close, you always take in a sharp and fast inhale. It’s like a tell. Something that gives away just how good you feel. Satori loves the sound of it. Sometimes, he’ll edge you three or four times just to hear it, just to savor that sweet intake of breath. Tonight though, he’s going to let you have it easy. You deserve to have it easy tonight, as desperate as you are, and this is fun for him too. This position makes it easy to feel just how tight you get when you’re close, pussy clamping down around him at a fast interval even with the upward pumps of his hips.
He’s too impatient to let you fuck him on your own. Satori lets you have it your way, but he wants it his way too, accenting the roll of your hips with subtle pumps. He grips your hips, his fingers sinking delightfully into the fat there and holds you at a good enough angle to fuck. The weight of your breath comes heavy, that little accent and then a slow crawl from your lungs. You shudder, mouth falling open. And Satori, well Satori watches. In fascination, in awe, in sheer pleasure.
“Oh shit,” you breathe, glancing at him. “Yeah, yeah.”
Oh, he loves that. Those little nothings that you babble when you’re breathless and climbing towards that high. Satori can’t get enough of it. Your voice, the cadence of it, how heavy it sounds on your tongue when you force out the sex-laced words.
You crumble quickly. It’s almost desperate the way you push your hands onto his chest and let your head fall forward, cunt clenching down hard around him as you stop the roll of your hips to shudder. Your thighs press harshly against Satori’s sides and he digs his fingers into your hips to keep from cumming inside of you. That’d be pretty bad, though he can’t say that it’s not endlessly tempting.
You don’t waste a moment pulling yourself off of him, wrapping your hand around is cum-slicked cock and beginning to pump. You squeeze the head of it and Satori lets out a low groan. God, you’re being so quick about this that it would almost be jarring if Satori didn’t find it so fucking hot. You’re like… desperate for it. Christ, he thinks he’s gonna cum.
“Can I finish on your face?” He grits out.
“No,” you reply, teasing him by pressing your thumb over the head of his dick. “On your chest. I like it when you make a mess of yourself.”
Then, a familiar, teasing smile lights up across your face. Your breath is still heaving and it makes the expression feel more genuine. Satori leans his head back against the headboard eyebrows pulled upwards in his pleasure.
“You’re fuckin’ sadistic,” he laughs out.
It’s half a groan, his voice strained and thick with his imminent high. He reaches up to toy with your tits, anything really that he can grab. Satori gets handsy when he’s close and he feels the way pleasure mounts in his lower stomach like water fills a bucket.
Then, he peaks, his cum spilling out over his chest. Satori makes an effort to muffle his voice when he does, gritting his jaw and squeezing the flesh of your tit as an outlet for the pleasure of it all. The mess he’s made is warm, spilling into the ridges of his abdomen and the soft lines of muscle there.He’ll have to shower again when he gets home. For the moment though, he just watches his chest heave as you let go of his dick and reach to put two of your messy fingers in his mouth. Satori obliges, swirling his tongue around them.
“Hah, you’re disgusting.”
“You’re the one who likes it, sweetheart,” he drones, reaching to take some tissues from the nightstand and wipe up his mess.
“Throw those in the bin,” you say, laying down on your bed as he stands.
“Yeah, yeah, I know.”
Satori stretches for a moment, inspecting his clothes to ensure that the mess was minimal. He turns to look at you on the bed. Your eyes are closed, arms above your head with your sleep shirt riding up on your body, revealing a small glimpse of your fleshy stomach. God, he almost wants to fuck you again.
“Move over,” he says, bullying his way into the bed next to you.
“Fine, but you can’t stay for long,” you reply, lifting your head and putting it back down on his chest. You face the ceiling, picking at your nails. “I gotta shower and finish up a paper.”
“You have a paper to finish but you called me over to fuck?”
“Duh,” you reply. “Needed some sort of stress relief.”
“Most people just eat a bowl of cereal or something,” he says through a smile, his lips curling up in the corners.
You huff and roll your eyes, letting out a short and genuine laugh. “Whatever, you just can’t stay too long, ‘kay?”
“You got it,” he chuckles, rolling his eyes lightly.
Satori tucks his arm under his head, watching your ceiling fan as it spins in circles. He hates the ceiling in your room. You’ve got popcorn ceilings, something that Satori is particularly disdainful of. It’s why he likes having you over at his place, with its smooth and well painted walls. Plus, you can fuck as loud as you want and there’ll be no one there in the morning to hound you both over it.
You can’t stay for long.
He never really understood why you always tell him that. Even without it, Satori never really does.
—
Satori’s morning routine isn’t really a routine at all. On days where he has nothing to do, he rolls out of bed at whatever time he pleases. Sometimes that’s 12 in the afternoon and other times that’s 5:30 in the morning.
He tries his best to avoid early morning classes. Truthfully, he tries his best to avoid classes at all, but hey, when you’re getting a degree, that’s not really an option. Satori’s been relatively successful in that endeavor, keeping most of his class schedule well within the 11 am to 4 pm range, except for one pesky little discussion. Once a week, on Tuesdays, Satori has to drag himself out of bed and be in the classroom at 8 am sharp.
It’s not that he isn’t driven, or isn’t a morning person. Satori just isn’t a rules person, which doesn’t exactly function well within a societal structure. There are always rules. Ones that tell you when to cross the road, where to park your car, when to be somewhere or when not to be somewhere. The fact that he has to get up early on Tuesdays makes him needlessly resistant to getting up, even if he’s awake already.
Satori blinks away sleep in the quiet of his room. He’s woken up about fifteen minutes before his 6:50 alarm and now stares blankly at the ceiling with his arms tucked behind his head. What a drag, getting up like this and going immediately into the daily slog, not that anything can be done about it.
He inhales, preparing himself to sit up, before actually doing so. His muscles scream at him, sore with sleep and aching for a good stretch which he gladly obliges with a loud yawn. Cartoonish, almost. Satori laughs to himself as he pulls his body from the bed.
His room is messy. Clothes are strewn about haphazardly across the floor and various items that he’d picked up to mess around with are out of place. He exhales, shaking his head a little bit and telling himself that he’ll clean it when he gets back. It’s not that he minds the mess. In fact, Satori likes a little organized mess. Like what you and him are doing. That’s messy in the most delightful way. But right now, his room is a little too messy, verging on the precipice of dirty, which Satori hates.
He tosses on a soft, long-sleeved t-shirt. It’s the kind of shirt that he’s had for a long while, the ones that feel smooth on his skin. The fabric is so worn that it falls over him almost like tissue paper and he loves the feeling. His black jeans are hanging over the back of his desk chair and he grabs them quickly, shrugging them on over his hips with two quick steps and a pull. The ink on them is faded and though they started their life black, they are now almost a dark gray and look even lighter at the knees and backs of the thighs. He thinks he’ll have to get a new pair soon. Gray doesn’t look as nice with other colors as black does.
The sink in his bathroom is nearly empty, save for one single face wash, his toothbrush, and some toothpaste. He uses all of them in that order, hardly glancing up to look at himself in the mirror except to fix his scraggly long hair. He fiddles with it for a moment, running his fingers through minor tangles that worked themselves into his hair while he slept, before deciding that it looks good enough. The rest of it will sort itself out during the day and fall flat.
His dish is in the sink from the night before and he briefly loads it into the dishwasher and runs it, chiding himself mentally with an eye roll for not doing it the night before. There’s always a 50/50 chance in the morning that Satori has forgotten to run the dishwasher and it antagonizes him as much as anything can antagonize Satori, which really isn’t much.
There’s a black puffer jacket hanging by the door of his modest apartment. It’s a size too big for him, but it’s warm and looks nice on his figure, so he sees no use in telling his mother that she’d gotten the wrong size. It was a gift from her at the beginning of the winter season last year, along with a hat that Satori never wears. The jacket, at the very least, gets some use on account of it suiting his own personal style.
He’s grateful for it when he steps outside of his apartment, shrugging it closer to him as the familiar bite of winter rushes up and under his skin. The sun has only just risen and the world is cast in a familiar orange, pink, and purple glow that makes it feel like a painting. Satori doesn’t mind being out in the world when it’s still asleep. Especially not in the early morning hours just before the sun comes up, when the world is cast in blue as if it were covered in film. Today though, it’s late enough that the world is now wide awake and the bustle of it gives Satori a headache.
He passes businessmen on their way to work, girls in school uniforms rushing to make it through the gate of their school on time, their loafers smacking the floor with a delightful and intrusive clicking sound. His campus is only a few blocks away, around two corners and a straight shot until he hits the main building. He got lucky with his apartment’s location and sacrificed nice amenities for its proximity to his classes. The apartment itself may be crap, but Satori finds it worthwhile for how near it is to the things he cares about. That, and it doesn’t have popcorn ceilings, thank god.
The snow hasn’t stuck yet, which means that the sidewalk is damp with melting ice as the sun begins to warm the pavement beneath it. His shoes will get damp like this. The converse do little to repel the water, instead soaking it in like a sponge. He’s careful to avoid puddles, but should he hit one, Satori won’t dwell. They’ll dry at some point.
He can see the school up ahead. Satori isn’t really a fan of the building style. They’re stuffy and a bit reminiscent of the industrial buildings just outside of the Sendai city limits, but Tohoku University is a good school and Satori thinks it would have been a waste to not accept his admission. As the buildings grow closer, Satori can see the bodies of students wandering. Some talk in small groups and others, the more independent of them, walk hurriedly to their classes with heavy backpacks slung over both shoulders. Their backs curl forward a little, feeling the pressure of the weight.
Right through the quad, through the double doors, and up to the second floor. That’s the path Satori needs to take to get to his classroom, though he’s about 10 minutes early. He pauses just outside of the building, tilting his head to the side as he spots a familiar silhouette. A smile creeps onto his face, lips curling in the corners as he recognizes you.
You’re having a conversation with someone, though Satori can’t quite make out who exactly it is. They’re standing partially behind one of the trees, their broad figure concealed by the trunk of it. As he approaches, he recognizes the other person to be Bokuto Koutarou, one of the core members of the university’s volleyball team. What an odd pair to be seen together, and so early in the morning too. Then, Bokuto leans down and pecks you on the cheek and Satori is more confused than he’s been in a while. When did you get close? When did you start seeing him?
A pit forms in his stomach, though not the kind he’s familiar with. Messy, messy.
“Bokuto, huh?” he says as he approaches behind you, watching with you as the other man walks away. “When did you and him get so… close.”
He drags out the last word, hissing out the S through a small smile.
“That,” you start, “is none of your business. It just sort of happened.”
Satori gives you a coy smile, tilting his head in your direction.
“Does he know?” He questions genuinely.
“Know what?”
“About us,” he croons, leaving no room for misinterpretation.
You give him a pointed glance, an eyebrow raised. He knows the look. It’s the one you give him when he’s said something stupid or far too obvious.
“We,” you emphasize, “are friends.”
“Oh yeah,” he nods, tucking his hands into his pockets and leaning back as he follows your step. “We’re really good friends. And we fuck for fun.”
You laugh. It’s a shrill laugh, and totally comfortable. He can’t see an ounce of tension in your shoulders and they’re relaxed in the way they usually are when the two of you speak. Satori looks down at you over the tops of his cheeks and a sly grin spreads across his face.
“Well,” you say, though it seems to not have any real purpose in your sentence. It’s almost like an admittance that he’s right, which he knows he is. “What does it matter if he knows, anyway? What’s there to know?”
Satori stops walking, his hands buried deep into his pockets. His head hangs forward and his jaw is open in faux confusion. The strain in his neck posing like this is worth the smile you give him, he thinks.
“That we fuck,” he states, saying it almost as if it’s a shock to him as well.
You stop to roll your eyes and Satori quite likes the way that the expression looks on you. Fed up, but pleasantly so. It gives your features a somewhat light, carefree sense. You look away from him for a moment, almost as if to accentuate just how nonsensical his manner of speaking is, before looking at his face and narrowing your eyes. You size him up and then give a small grin, almost mischievous in nature.
“He suspects,” you say. “But it doesn’t seem like he thinks too hard about it. I think he might if we were like… ex’s or romantically involved, but we’re not, so,” you shrug your shoulders. “Besides, it’s not serious enough for him to mind yet.”
“Yet?” Satori raises his eyebrows and gives you an incredulous smile.
Despite his demeanor, he feels something odd. It’s almost like his stomach is about to drop, and an unsettling feeling of dread begins to loom over him. You turn to look at him over your shoulder, impossibly pretty eyes giving him a very square look in the face.
“Yet,” you confirm, your tone a bit sharp as if to warn him that he’s stepping too close to the line.
He’s not sure what he’s done to warrant that kind of reaction. Satori thought that he’d come off rather disconnected, aloof in the way that your agreement is, but it’s entirely possible that he’d sounded insecure. He furrows his brows at you, almost like he’s confused himself, and then shrugs in a non committal way.
“Right,” he says, beginning to spin on his heel in an exaggerated manner. “Well, you have fun with Mr. Center-Of-Campus,” he smiles, continuing his sentence,” and I… will be going to my photography lab discussion.”
“You do that,” you laugh, putting up a hand to wave. “I’ll catch you later.”
“I’m sure you will,” he says, to which you respond by giving him a tired look and a shrug, like you’re admitting to the implication that you just can’t go without it. It being whatever the hell kind of sexual relationship exists between you two.
Neither he nor you turns behind to glance at the other. Satori starts off back in his original direction and you dip into the building next to his. He’s sure that if he looked, you’d have your fingers looped through the straps of your backpack, probably greeting someone or other that you know on campus.
You’re popular in a way that Satori isn’t. Truthfully, Satori is more notorious than liked and people know him for his strange, roundabout way of speaking and the knowing look in his eye. It doesn’t bother him to think that. He’s heard the way people talk about him, either directly from you or from walking up to a conversation a few moments too early. It doesn’t suit anyone to pretend that he doesn’t know and he doesn’t really mind knowing. It helps to weed out the people he wants to be around versus the people he doesn’t.
You, however, are very well liked. Sociable and blunt in your way of speaking. People like being around you, not just because you’re easy to look at, but because you’ve got a casual demeanor about yourself that makes people feel unjudged and at ease. It’s actually one of the first things that Satori had ever noticed about you, the way that you settle into a conversation as if you’d always been meant to be a part of it. No need to switch subjects or guide it to a more suitable position, you seem to blend effortlessly into social scenes, whether you notice it or not. Maybe it’s because you’re very true to yourself. You don’t recognize yourself as a perfect person and, as a result, you never hold the expectation that someone else should be perfect.
Satori thinks you’re like-minded in that way, though his interpretation of other people’s flaws is more rooted in his treatment by others. People are quick to judge and in all his years of being judged, Satori has just come to accept that that’s the way things are and he can’t blame humans for simply being human. Still though, he has the same idea that people’s flaws aren’t a reason for judgment. They just… exist and that’s fine.
He slides into a desk along the wall, quickly glancing around the room at the people who have already filed in. He’s only a few minutes early and most of his class are already in their seats with their cameras on their desk. Satori doesn’t know many people in this discussion and the majority of his class is either made up of girls that are too afraid to introduce themselves, or pretentious boys who spend too much time thinking about what tortured artists they are and too little time on the actual composition of their photos.
He wishes that Ushiwaka had been able to take this class with him. Satori had suggested that he try to enroll at the beginning of the spring semester, but with the class being an upper division, Ushiwaka didn’t have the previous coursework to be able to do it. Besides, Wakatoshi isn’t really in school for the classes, but rather because he’d been scouted by the campus’ volleyball team to play for them and Wakatoshi had gone because it was a good opportunity to get into the professional division. In that sense, Satori feels that he’s falling behind his friend. After all, Wakatoshi knows what he wants, but Satori only knows what he likes.
This class is pretty irritating. Not just because he has to get up and leave for it at the asscrack of dawn, but also because he feels that the discussions lack any real insight. Every week, they’re expected to upload their photos onto their computers and bring them to class, then, they spend the entire hour going around and discussing goals for the project and what could be improved with their current techniques. It would be useful if Satori didn’t find that so many people half-assed their photos the day before and then brought them in with some made up philosophy on why the snow in the crack of the sidewalk symbolizes their incessant need for human connection.
He doesn’t think this way because he’s innocent of half-assing. In fact, Satori half-asses a lot. Sometimes because he can’t be bothered and other times because he finds the work less valuable than something else he could be doing. Still, he likes taking pictures and this is a class centered entirely on developing a personal work portfolio. It’s easy for him to do the assignments because it’s essentially what he does in his free time anyway, so there are times when he feels that maybe these people just don’t care too much about school at all. That’s a fine thought to have, he thinks. Most artists think like that in some way or another.
Satori wonders if it’s the same in your major. Do literature students phone it in and do you find it irritating? He thinks you probably aren’t bothered by it if they do. It wouldn’t be in your nature to get worked up over the actions of others. You hardly even get worked up over your own actions and he thinks it would be weird to see you get in your head over someone else.
He sits through his class though, explaining the photo he’d taken of you in the early morning after you’d spent the whole evening talking and touching each other. Your face is obscured and your belly is pressed down against the mattress. It’s really only an off centered photo of your back, displaying the lovely curve of it against the crumpled white bed sheets and a bit of your hair. There may not be anything special about the photo to anyone else, but Satori remembers how badly he’d wanted to photograph you then.
Intimacy is pleasant to him in small doses. He likes to play pretend when it comes to loving and he’ll touch you like he loves you, let you touch him like you do, but Satori doesn’t ever think he’ll do it for real. At least not right now when he is so consumed by catching up to his peers in some arbitrary way. Still, the picture is a pleasant reminder to him that intimacy exists even in the most mundane of moments. Arguably, it is most present in them.
He doesn’t say all of this to his class though and someone describes the photo as almost pornographic, which he supposes that it is. It gives the impression of two people just after they’ve gone to bed together and he laughs to himself because that’s exactly what it is. Satori just shrugs his shoulders at the comment. That’s just about what your physical relationship to each other is, isn’t it? Almost pornographic in nature, indulging in each other the way lovers might without ever stopping to think if romantic love factors into the actions at all.
#tendou x reader#tendou satori x reader#bokuto x reader#bokuto kotaro x reader#tendou smut#yeah!!!#WOO HOO#i always get so nervous posting stuff#especially series#tries to be casual about it#tw: teasing#tw: mentions of pregnancy#tw: mentions of breeding#also i was inspired by bria and lily's rp w me for this so <333
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How to Write Political Intrigue (with book recs)
POLITICAL INTRIGUE! Intrigue in general! What is it?
For the purposes of this post (as well as how it's usually used in the writing/reading community), think: scheming. Plotting. Conspiracies in the shadows, bids for power and survival, secret plans, masterful illusions, all of that stuff.
It could be on any scale that you'd like, from a duel of wits (think Light's and L's game of cat and mouse in Death Note)
...to a large-scale plot involving entire countries and their people (like any espionage networks during any major wars, such as the American Revolutionary War to World War II, and so many more)
...or even medium-sized conflicts (families, like in The Godfather, or smaller national disturbances like the Watergate scandal).
Below are 4 core tips on how you can successfully write (political) intrigue plots:
1. Read + Research
Despite how hard it may sound, it's actually pretty easy to craft a realistic yet thrilling intrigue plot—with so many examples in real life and fiction, you can easily base your plot on an existing one and just change a few things like the characters, setting, and maybe a few plot points.
History and current events are always great places to look to, but here are some books that are chock-full of great politics + intrigue:
Leviathan (Thomas Hobbes): one of the most famous treatises of politics + human nature and their intersection. The book is an in-depth exploration of human nature, government, politics, and all of the root causes of why they exist. While it does take a specific philosophical angle (you might not agree with Hobbes' ideas), they are detailed explanations of how things work + why they are required from one perspective.
48 Laws of Power (Robert Greene): GREAT BOOK for helping you plan out the means by which you want the intrigue to happen. There are lots of simplified rules that tell you why people plan and scheme (e.g. "control the options; get others to play the cards you deal," or "pose as a friend, work as a spy"). There are LOTS of really great small stories of when a rule is applied in real life that are also general plot inspo!
The Godfather (Mario Puzo): very very good, intricate, and more emotional because it deals with the intrigue surrounding families
Joseph Fouché: Portrait of a Politician (Stefan Zweig) (biography): Fouché is absolutely insane. A genius at political intrigue. His life is literally one of the craziest stories of scheming, betrayals, survival, and a general vying for power, especially behind the scenes.
The Prince (Machiavelli): obviously, I can't leave out the original tips + tricks book with explanations of WHY intrigue matters as a means, especially in terms of protecting your power.
Trust Me, I'm Lying (Ryan Holladay): a large part of intrigue plots (you need to cover up the actual game you're playing) is the manipulation of information, creating illusions and spectacles for other people to believe. This book goes in-depth about media manipulation and information wars.
Empire of Pain (Patrick Raden Keefe): takes a rather different angle, through the personal/corporate manipulation of government, as well as how wealth dynasties (especially within families) are established. Remember the opioid crisis? This book explores the generational politics of money and power that led up to that.
Prince of Thorns (Mark Lawrence): Look! Fiction! Anyway, I'm biased because it's one of my favourite works of fiction of all time, but it explores political intrigue not only through an actor participating in it, but through the lens of the common folk. I.e., the consequences all that power play has on the populace due to a lack of actual good governance...
A Song of Ice and Fire (George R. R. Martin): I haven't personally read/watched anything GoT, but it's pretty much obligatory to put this series down in a post about political intrigue. It's famous for doing it well.
2. Plan. Like, meticulously
First of all, decide what scale you want your intrigue to be on: large-scale government/international affairs type, a corporation thing, something between two people, or even within a family? There are so many possibilities.
Intrigue plots are like mysteries; they must be tightly logical to be satisfying. One of the best ways of ensuring this is through analyzing each involved party—the actors.
Each actor has their own motivations, goals, and psychologies. After you establish what they want OUT of their intrigue, think about how they'd go about achieving it: a naturally hot-headed person might try to intimidate their way into getting what they want, or they might learn through the course of the story to cool down a bit.
A naturally imaginative and analytical person might come up with all sorts of scarily genius plans, and near-flawless execution. Of course, they would also react in different ways, depending on personality. Character consistency alone will make your plot seem that much more logical.
However, cracks in logic will happen because humans are inherently imperfect and not always rational. These cracks must be DELIBERATE and realistic and must seem planned out; they can't seem more like the author forgot a detail, or didn't know how to explain something (e.g. something happened and the writer never included the consequence of it because they forgot). It must be clear that it is a flaw on the character's part.
3. Never write intrigue for the sake of the intrigue
The incentive of all scheming comes down to mainly two things: gaining power and keeping it. Of course, you could choose to explore more unusual things, such as characters exercising intrigue to satisfy boredom... (think Light and Ryuk from Death Note).
But, the bids for power, security, and survival can be used to highlight things about human nature. Themes to explore include ambition, sacrifice, the pursuit of happiness, the corruption of character, the preservation of innocence in a cruel system, etc.
4. Explore through a narrow lens
Most intrigue plots are full of complex motivations, characters, goals, and the means they use to achieve said goals.
You should gradually let your intrigue plot unfold through the POV of a few characters, preferably one or two. An omniscient narrator for this type of story is INCREDIBLY difficult to pull off without confusing the reader.
However, more POVs work if you use all of them to focus on ONE or a few intrigue plots only—it can provide a multi-layered effect, exploring the same line of action and consequence through different perspectives. But, if everyone has their own intrigue plot, it's too easy to create a tangled mess where readers can barely delineate one plot from the next.
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instagram: @ grace_should_write
Sorry for the massive hiatus—I have officially started college!! I've been pre-occupied with settling in, classes starting, a social life, extracurriculars etc. etc...life has been super busy, but great :)
I've started working on my books as well as poetry more recently, and I'm glad I'm getting into a new workflow/lifestyle. It certainly is different, but I'm starting to enjoy it.
Anyway, I'm surprised it took me this long to do a post about this topic, considering the fact that it's basically my writergram niche and my entire personality IRL, but I think it was mainly because I was trying to find a good angle to approach this massive topic. But, stay tuned for (probably) a part 2 because there's SO MUCH MORE to cover.
Hope this was helpful, and let me know if you have any questions by commenting, re-blogging, or DMing me on IG. Any and all engagement is appreciated :)
Happy writing, and have a great day!
- grace <3
#writers on tumblr#writing#booktok#writeblr#novel#writer#writerslife#wattpad#writing tips#writergram#wip#media analysis#book recommendations#bookstagram#plot holes#writing ideas#ya fantasy#fantasy#ya fiction#characters
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