#don't twist that if you use canon settings
Text
TW-CW fandom-related RANT, read at your own risk.
i just now found out that beefleafers are worse than caatofags.
can't handle negativity and likes to gatekeep opinions.
even caatofags were loud in their delusion, they were not randomly shutting people off who disagree on them.
they may just brush it off with maturity.
just a single post, beefleafers' mentality already feel like being attacked.
imagine being a caatofag and read all of my posts denying their belief.
or imagine being a destieheller and asking every single one of anti-hellers to remove their posts/stop hating them.
you failed to provide me a proper argument like this, so you switch to do tag-keeping instead?
this problem shouldn't be overly hard to solve, by blocking me, your feed will look nice again.
i don't care having people blocking me more than you guys wish you could dictate me.
i don't know you and i don't care to know you.
it's not like you care to my other posts either.
you just want that single post to be gone on your feeds, right?
(...) -> block, just two clicks will solve that.
i've tested it myself, it simply swipes away the post you don't like.
it's more efficient than typing many words to complain in my ask box.
how long have you been in the internet?
does blocking feature sound alien to you?
i’m even going far to make this tutorial for you!
don't waste your time to change my mind, even a mother can't mold their kids into a man/woman she completely wanted.
i think I've done this much only for them.
of all my meta posts, this is the first time i have to give this massive warnings:
though it disrupts my usual writing flow, i’m still willing to do it.
then tw/cw tags:
EDIT:
this case reminded me of a Twitter trend a few months ago regarding entitled Wattpad users who wanted the algorithm to be implemented in AO3.
are most of the beefleafers in the generation of Wattpad users? Is that why they are not used to self-filters & lacking emotional maturity in viewing internet contents as they are too spoiled by the algorithm which often succeeds in showing the content they like?
so when the system fails them, they immediately become aggressive and blame the individual who made the post they don’t want to see.
i still want to believe that there are still enough mature beefleafers out there.
but if that's the case, they should be able to react to this post without confrontation.
just the word 'personal opinion' should be enough not to make them baper easily offended.
this one is not even properly tagged, so if there is beefleafer who gets triggered by this post and complain to me, THAT'S IT! You're truly the problem.
#my rants#ghiaccio#they get triggered and hate to see my post#could it be because I'm right?#that you indeed put HX's feeling & resentment aside to allow him being in love with SQX#that's fine actually but you can't force me to like it#because i think it's fucked up#wasting HX's motivation as supreme and exhausting himself into posing as someone else#for hundreds of years and then throwing his grudges away in the name of love#what's so hard about waiting for the post-canon to realize their relationship?#rather than brushing off his hundred years resentment as momentary tantrums?#you are free with your headcanon#but don't force it to become canon#don't force me to like it either#xuanxuan is tragedy#not hs romance of bestfriends-lovers#xuanxuan is basically tgcf's xuexiao#that's mxtx's canon for you#don't twist that if you use canon settings#it's a different matter if AU#every AUs besides canon divergence of course#bcos you're bitch if you take away a tragedy already written so beautifully by mxtx#but you also don't have to comply this#then we can end our disagreement by blocking each other
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Could you write a Ran Haitani x reader smut, but use this prompt somewhere.
“But you like being corrupted, don't you, sweet girl?”
-xx
❛❛𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬'𝑺 𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬 𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑺 𝑩𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵.ᐟ❞
being a bonten executive's assistant comes with many perks. . . including (but not limited to) flexible hours, good pay, publicity (apparently), and getting to screw your boss ?!
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ a/n: i've never written ran before i'm a little nervous!!! nonnie i hope you enjoy!!! i loved and had a lot of fun writing this 🥰🫶 wc: 866
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ warnings: 18+ ! MDNI ! bonten!ran haitani x fem!reader | physically ambiguous reader | canon adjacent | alcohol (nobody's drunk) | corruption kink | power imbalance ? | oral sex (male receiving) | unprotected penetrative sex (ran got the snip)
since getting hired as an assistant to bonten executive ran haitani, the two of you have been photographed together and plastered across billboards and magazines, making headlines across japan.
❛❛𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐂. 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋❞
❛❛𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 (𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄/𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄/𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄/𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃)❞
"heh," he scoffs, "these dumbasses think i'm screwing my assistant!"
he tosses the magazines onto his desk and takes a sip of an old fashioned. he presses a button, paging you to his office.
you make your way promptly to his office and ask, "what can i do for you, mr. haitani?" you smile, awaiting his response.
"have you seen the shit on the news lately?"
you shake your head, puzzled by his question. "no, sir. i can't say i have... do you need me to contact some—"
he leans back in his seat, reads the headlines aloud, then takes another sip of his drink, and looks up at you, smirking.
"so... what do you think, little miss bonten?" he asks, enunciating consonants sharp enough to cut. the look he gives you makes your thighs clench.
"the media will twist anything for personal gain, sir–" you say softly, clearing your throat in an attempt to keep your composure.
he chuckles. "that's all? d'aw, too bad... had you said something else, i might have entertained them..."
you swallow the lump in your throat, setting off the feeling of butterflies in your stomach. "i'll tell the bartender to use a lighter hand–"
"you think i'm drunk right now?" he laughs, "not a chance, doll. you're a smart girl, sweet too... i know you are...." he rises from his desk and approaches you, gently lifts your jaw to meet his gaze.
you're certain he can feel your heart leap into your throat and your skin burning with excitement. his hand gently caresses your face. "mr. haitani–"
"don't be so formal. ran is fine." he laughs softly.
"i don't think this is right mr., ahem, ran."
"well, if this is wrong then i don't wanna be right." he smirks. "i know you want it too. you're not as innocent as you let on... you like being corrupted, don't you sweet girl?"
he hears your breath hitch and knows he's got you right where he wants you. he looks into your eyes and swipes his thumb across your bottom lip. "show me how pretty you look with your mouth on my cock." he says hushedly.
you kneel in front of your boss, watching him hurriedly unbuckle his belt and reveal his cock to you. you take his length into your hand, stroking gently as you lower your head. he groans as you take his tip between your lips, teasing his cockhead with your tongue.
"you trying to kill me?" he quips. you smirk and take his cock further into your mouth and suck, bobbing your head down inch by inch until you can't fit any more comfortably. his eyes roll back and he groans, placing his hand gently on your head. "fuck," he hisses, "who knew little miss bonten was a pretty little cocksucker?" he smirks.
you moan and quicken your pace, jerking his cock a little harder now. you swirl your tongue on his tip and indulge in the taste of his precum. he grunts and groans, hips stuttering as he begins to teeter on the edge of his orgasm. "not gonna cum yet. not 'til you're bent over this desk."
he helps you off your knees then pushes your lower back down, tits spilling out of your top. he pushes your panties to the side and rubs a finger up and down your glistening sex, gently circling your clit. "this wet for me? fuck... need you to stay like this... always ready to take me."
the two of you moan collectively as he slides his cock into your cunt. he grips tightly onto your waist as he pushes deeper inside. "fuck baby, you were made for me..." he grins and thrusts his hips steadily, rubbing your clit in synch.
your eyes flutter as his tip presses sweetly against your g-spot. the stimulation on your clit sends your head into the clouds. "oh god– fuck! ran!" you mewl.
"you're taking me so well, sweet girl. you gonna cum already?" his smug response earns himself a whine from you. "or maybe you need it faster? harder?" he taunts, pounding his cock into you more hastily. you gasp as the feeling of his finger rubbing on your clit quickens too.
"MMM-! RAN!" you cry, "i'm cumming!" your muscles begin to tighten and your orgasm quickly washes over you. ran moans with you as you ride out your high, his own orgasm approaching. "fuuuuck yeah... cum all over my cock! you're so fucking good..."
he thrusts into you a couple more times then spurts his load inside you. he groans and slams your hips down on his cock, fucking his cum deeper into you. he places a few kisses on your back and shoulders as he comes down from his heightened pleasure.
while you're fixing yourself to return back to work, ran calls for your attention.
"don't let anyone else touch you. i want little miss bonten to myself."
dividers by benkeibear
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ taglist: @bloodsiren @milky-aeons @katkusuo
@i-literally-cant-with-this @manjiro-sanhoe @priv-rose
@reiners-milkbiddies @toji-girl-main @lees-chaotic-brain @darkstarlight82
@blueberrisdove @kodzukein @trevengersprincess
#ran haitani smut#ran haitani x reader smut#tokyo revengers smut#tokrev smut#tokrev x reader smut#tokyo revengers x reader smut#ran haitani#haitani ran
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Hi, Jordan Li fan here again! Could you maybe write an angst/comfort fic where (preferably gender neutral) reader really likes Jordan, but because Jordan and Marie have been getting closer they’re scared to confess? So they try to distance themselves from Jordan and eventually the secret comes out? Bonus points if there’s some sort of panic attack + comfort in there :). Again, completely understand if not, no pressure. Have the best day!!
Whiskey in the Shadows
pairing: jordan li x gender neutral reader
tw: cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of suicide, death, canon typical violence ish, panic attack, kissing
description: jealousy is a rather stupid emotion that unfortunately you have to contend with.
a/n: hope you enjoy this one <33 i literally wrote it out in like less than an hour and i'm actually happy with the result so yayyy. requests are open as always and yeah don't have much else to say.
Life at God U was something you had to adjust to over the years. It was completely different from the time you spent in high school but it definitely felt way better to be surrounded by supes, not just humans who constantly pushed you away because you were ‘different’. A plus was definitely being in the top 10, which meant you had extra privileges the other students didn’t have. One was your friend group.
You first met Luke in the first week of school. You were both taking the same mandatory intro to marketing seminar and were paired up together to make a sales pitch for a product that could combine both of your powers. God, that day was almost as vivid as if you were living it right now.
“Hi.” You jumped slightly and looked up from your notes to see a tall blonde guy standing in front of your spot.
“Uh hi.”
“You want to be my partner?” You scanned the room and saw that everyone had already paired up.
“Sure, I’m Y/N.”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Luke.” He was about to set down his bag when he realized the mess that surrounded you was going to make that difficult.
“Right, shit. Let me get this out of the way.” You quickly took all the multicolored folders from the spot next to you and shoved them into your bag, Luke pulled out the chair and sat down next to you before pulling out a notebook.
“Why the fuck do you have so many folders?” Luke said as he watched you struggle to organize them in alphabetical order.
“This class is bullshit so I mostly spend time catching up on outside projects.” You say as you are finally able to fix all your folders and turn towards Luke who has an incredulous look on his face.
“Jesus, I guess I picked the right partner then.”
“Oh don’t count on me doing all the work.”
“I wouldn’t dare.” He said with a smirk before he started to rattle off ideas of what your pitch could be.
From that moment on you two had become instant friends, eventually your little group expanded to include Luke’s girlfriend, Cate, who was probably the nicest person you had ever met. Then Andre, a legacy who didn’t actually act like it. Jordan was the last to join and all of it happened during one of your many sparring sessions with Luke.
“Ok come on you have got to be cheating!” Luke complained as you once again pinned him down on the soft mat. Your little spar was gathering some attention because the boxing ring was now crowded with supes holding up phones.
“Nope. I’m just better than you. Oh shit.” Luke took advantage of your distraction to grab your shoulder and flip you around so you landed hard against the mat.
“I win.”
“Fuck you.” You bit out before you used your powers to wrap and twist shadows around Luke’s wrists so he tumbled down next to you.
“Ok now that’s cheating.”
“We never said no powers.”
“It’s an unspoken rule!” Luke exclaimed but he had a big smile on his face as you offered a hand to him after jumping up from your own spot.
“Truce?”
“Truce.” Luke said as he smirked and grabbed your arm, allowing you to pull him up. The crowd around the ring started dispersing as you climbed out through the ropes.
“That was pretty fucking badass.” Came a voice from one of the few remaining spectators, you expected their voice to be focused on Luke but their intense stare was pinned on you.
“Why thank you. Luke’s an easy one to beat.”
“Hey!” Luke exclaimed in indignation as he jumped down next to you and threw you one of the spare water bottles he had. You grabbed it with one of your shadows and screwed open the cap.
“I’m Jordan.”
“Nice to meet you Jordan, I’m Y/N and this is Luke as you already know.”
“Hey.” Luke said as he did some kind of military salute.
“So what are your powers?” You asked when suddenly Jordan shifted in front of you. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah…”
“That’s fucking awesome.” Luke said as he finished taking a long drag of the water bottle.
“If you’re ever up for a spar come find me.” You said as you checked the time on your phone and realized you were going to be late for class. “We have to go but it was great to meet you Jordan.”
“You too.” They said with a smile as you and Luke grabbed your bags from the floor. You waved as you went your separate ways.
“Someone has a crushhhh.” Luke said with a sing-song voice when he realized you were still staring at Jordan’s retreating back.
“Fuck off.” You said as you slapped his shoulder, making a booming laugh explode out of Luke.
Somehow you had managed to keep your crush on Jordan secret when you all reached junior year. Luke was the only one who knew and he constantly teased you about the situation, any time you stumbled over your words or got flustered in front of them. It just seemed harder and harder over the years to actually confess to Jordan. They had gotten so damn confident and like a thousand times more attractive - which is something you didn’t think was possible.
Everything sort of started to fall apart in your life the first days of junior year. It was like the universe decided to throw a wrench in your stableish life. Incident 1: Andre nearly kills a woman in the club you like to frequent. Incident 2: Luke’s nightmares get worse and he keeps having to bunk in your room because for some fucking reason he’s getting suspicious of Cate. Incident 3: Jordan is making heart eyes to someone who is not you. (not that you don’t like Marie but that was the problem, she was too damn perfect) Incident 4: Luke kills himself…
It was like your world was torn apart in the space of half an hour. Your best friend, who you considered a platonic soulmate and brother, killed Brink and then himself right in front of you. The last thing you said to him was that you loved him. Right after he hugged you as tight as humanly possible before flying off to his doom. He was fucking Icarus in that moment.
Incident 5: Luke has a brother, who’s somehow stuck in a fucking underground experimental facility in the school. Incident 6: Brink’s memorial gala…
You carefully adjusted the all-black suit embroidered with shiny black vines that you had gotten in preparation for Luke’s birthday… something that wasn’t even going to happen this year or any year for that matter. Fuck, not the time to cry. You mentally chidded yourself before assessing your look one last time in the mirror before making your way out of your dorm.
You really fucking hoped you wouldn’t run into Jordan tonight. It was getting harder to be around them… every time you saw them, they either started ranting about why Marie was around so much (you almost hoped they actually hated her for a second there but there was a certain spark in Jordan’s eyes whenever they spoke about Marie) or well yeah more complaining about Marie.
You had taken to spending more time alone, you still had a bad feeling about Cate and Andre spent most of his time with Cate so that left alone time as your only option. It had started taking a toll on you though. Mourning wasn’t exactly your strong suit.
You stepped into the decorated hall and cringed at all the posters with Brink. You knew he was a good man but… Luke wasn’t fucking crazy. You had been trying to help him for months, he had a reason to do it and you were going to try to find his brother… as soon as this damn gala was over.
You picked one of the champagnes off of a random waiter’s tray and quirked your lips up. Time to put on a real fucking show.
The next hour was spent mingling and chatting up potential sponsors. They all seemed hesitant to even speak to you because they knew how close you and Luke were but you reassured them that it was nothing to worry about. The Vought PR lines left a sour taste in your mouth that by the end of the hour you were itching for something stronger than champagne.
Once you were sure that the bartender was looking the other way you extended one of your shadows and snatched up one of the good whiskey bottles off the shelf and into your hand. You fucking loved your powers so much sometimes. Happy with your little prize a genuine smile made its way onto your face. Only to fall when you saw Jordan directly talking to Marie. They were smiling softly at each other, making a knot form in your stomach.
You hadn’t cried since Luke. All that had managed to come out of your eyes was a single measly fucking tear right before blood rained down from the heavens. But it seemed like Jordan’s moment with Marie was your fucking breaking point.
A sob threatened to force its way out of your throat as you hurried towards one of the alcoves that you knew this damn place had. What you didn’t notice was the way a pair of brown eyes followed your rushed movements. The second you were cocooned in your shadows was the moment that the tears slowed and a hiccup left your throat.
Safe. Safe. Safe.
“Y/N? Look I know you’re in there. I know your shadows when I see them.” The distinct voice of Jordan Li permeated your little hideout, disturbing the peace that you had somehow been able to culminate.
“Fuck off.” You said in a strained tone, tears were threatening to force their way out of your eyes once more so you opened the bottle and took a long swig of burning whisky.
“Y/N… is this about Luke? Shit- I haven’t even talked to you- I’m so sorry.” Those last few words made the stupid little resolve you had left deplete so you waved your hand and the shadows parted like curtains exposing Jordan’s ethereal face which looked incredibly apologetic. She climbed into your alcove as you closed the shadows back up.
“It’s fine, Jord. You had your own shit to deal with.”
“No, it’s not fine. You- you’ve been listening to me rant about Marie and I didn’t even ask if you were okay. I’m a shitty friend.” A resounding pang echoed through your heart at the word friend. Fuck. Another swig of the fancy whiskey.
“It’s not about that Jord, I’m really fine.”
“You’re drinking whiskey… you only do that when you’re stressed and/or depressed.” It almost hurts to realize how much Jordan actually knows you.
“It’s not that Jordan.”
“Then what is it?!” Jordan almost yells, probably exasperated by your perceived stubbornness.
“I fucking like you okay? I’ve been in love with you for fucking I don’t know how long. So can you please just fuck off and leave me alone.” You yelled out, only realizing after you finished speaking what you had just said. Oh. Oh no. A familiar panic started to seize your chest. Shit, they were going to reject you. Shit. Shit. Shit. You could almost feel yourself drifting off to join your shadows when warm hands gently got a hold of you.
“Y/N, Y/N. Listen to me, you have to breathe. You have to breathe with me. Come on. No passing out on me tonight. You didn’t even hear what I was going to say. Hey.” Your breathing started to slow down as you listened to Jordan’s calming voice. They were slowly bringing you back to earth as their hands rubbed against the material of the suit, creating a calming pressure.
“Sorry about that.” When Jordan realized I was calming down I saw a quirk of a smile appear on their face, her eyes twinkled in the dark with an intensity I had gotten familiar with over the years.
“You don’t have to be sorry at all. You get those often?”
“More now than before. I’m really fucking sorry, let’s just forget I sa-”
“No, nope. No take backsies. How the fuck did you think I didn’t like you, no wait sorry, love you back?”
“I-umm” You stuttered out as you looked at Jordan in awe. They loved you back. Holy fucking shit.
“Who came up to who first? I’ve wanted to ask you out on a date for years.”
“And why didn’t you?” You said as Jordan smirked at your renewed confidence.
“Because you are wayyy out of my league. I mean you are like the most incredible being to grace the Earth.”
“Ok now you’re exaggerating things, Jord.”
“No I’m not. I can’t believe you didn’t realize I wasn’t totally gone for you before.” You let the giddy feeling of love spread through your extremities when a realization made you stop short.
“What about Marie?”
“Marie? What are you talking about?”
“You’re like-” You made wavy motions with your hands that had Jordan’s laugh resonating against the shadows, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you watched them.
“Oh fuck, you are too funny, love. No, me and Marie are not-” Jordan repeated the wavy motions you had just done which made you smack her playfully. The movement had you shuffling closer to Jordan so now your faces seemed like they were only millimeters apart.
“Fuck.” You uttered under your breath as your nose skimmed against Jordan’s.
“Fuck is right. Can I- I umm really want to kiss you right now.”
“What are you waiting for?” You answered just as Jordan surged forward and your lips met in an explosion of sensations. You felt your shadows jump and play around you excitedly as you pulled Jordan impossibly closer by threading your fingers in their oh so soft hair. That decision rewarded you with a little whine from Jordan that had warmth spreading over your body once again.
Reluctantly pulling away you rested your forehead against Jordan’s as they smiled giddily up at you. Her eyes sparkled in the darkness and you smoothed the pads of your fingers against their cheek.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“I really fucking love you.” You said as you looked into those brown eyes that looked just like the perfect cup of coffee. Inviting, warm and absolutely enthralling.
“I love you more.”
“Always a competition with you Jordan.” You said with a chuckle, making Jordan laugh in response.
“Well you should have known what you were signing on for when you fell in love with me.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
so... reader's powers in this one are known as darkness manipulation which are sort of like the darkling's powers from shadow & bone (they're suit for the gala is literally directly inspired by the darkling's kefta lol) also here's the link to the superpower wiki page if anyone's interested.
#gen v#gen v fanfic#gen v amazon#gen v spoilers#andre anderson#jordan li#marie moreau#luke riordan#golden boy#the boys#the boys fanfic#the boys tv#gen v tv#maria writes#the boys series#the boys amazon#jordan li x reader#jordan x reader#gen v x reader#jordan li x you#jordan li x y/n
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hello, damn I fell in love with your yandere Alastor, it's too much jdkdkfkkd it's so sweet it kills me, I wanted to ask you how Alastor would react and his darling gave him his soul. I told myself I was going to stop reading so many Alastor fanfics but I can't with yours, they are very addictive.
To those that have no idea what this is talking about, check out {Unwanted Soul}
Thank you for your read and interest!! (can't believe someone says my stories are addictive, feel like I committed a crime)
OKay, back to business. Interesting ask. We never explored Alastor's side of the soul ownership huh. (since it's different from canon)
Basically, what's Alastor's response and reaction to Reader breaking the contract and returning Alastor's soul to him to own.
Alastor would see this as you not wanting him around. Full stop. Whatever your reason and currently established relationship (like how close you two are). He'd have a full breakdown and his confidence all gone. He gave you everything and treated you like an entity beyond. What did he do wrong? Tell him and he'll fix it!
By now, like after part 3. You have already mutually returned his feelings, but just not as strong as Alastor's. At least you're more lenient and accepting of his love and affections to you. He doesn't understand that you want him to hold his soul again without abandoning him. He knows you fear his power and Overlord status that can bring you to ruin, so giving you his soul was a way to show you he didn't care about these things that anchored his pride when compared to being by your side. To him, you accepting his soul was the same as you letting him stay by your side and accepting his twisted love for you. If you give back his soul to him, you're saying you don't want him and his presence around you.
He's not stupid, while he builds your reliance on him, he knows you could just as easily remove him from your afterlife. As such as he hates to admit it, you didn't need him as much as he needed you. (now isn't that odd?)
That's his feelings, now for his reaction and response.
While he wouldn't harm you, he'll frighten you to use the ownership power over him. Showing you that if you set him free from your hold, he can and will wreak havoc. Aren't you regretting the very thought of suggesting that? It's laughable, you want to free him. He'll show you, even when his powers are limited, he causes destruction to demons around him, think about what would happen if he's at full power.
Both of you are aware of this manipulation and you knew Alastor was using it to his advantage. Odd that the one that owns his soul is so powerless against his words and persuasions.
Oh, those don't work? Well. That's too bad. The hard way it is.
Alastor will lock you up somewhere. Keep you away from any paper-related objects. You're powerful, but you can't compete with him in combat. "You're sloppy, darling." He'd laugh when you tried to immobilize him with your summoned angelic weapons. They're deadly, but nothing if they don't land on their target. He'll push you into a corner so that you have to defend yourself till the point of exhaustion (like that time with Adam). Then he'll catch your tired and defenceless self in his arms lovingly. Once you're in your slumber mode, you're all his.
Charlie and the others are trying to find you? Even Lucifer? Well, he has his shadows and he will hide you from them. He's stronger now, before he played nice because you were there, but you're out of commission at the moment so he can let loose a bit. He would have pointed the finger at Charlie or even Lucifer and the others for your silly actions, that is, if you weren't always in your room with your entertainment. It took him years to get close to you, how can they do the same in such little time and you weren't caring for them as you did him. Even during you activities with the group, you weren't as involved and chose to stick close to him.
He'll nurse you back to health, but not fully that you can run away, he'll keep you at that borderline between energetic and exhausted. He gives you the same life you've lived with him during those 7 years, eveything's the same. Like the world only has you two in it. Back to the good old days.
Just don't worry about the times he's gone. He needs to ward off some pests around you. You don't care for them, yes? Alastor knows and understands. He'll take care of it as usual. You can ignore it all with your anime and comics, or take a nice long sleep to pass the time.
You let Alastor go? He's not letting you. Not on his soul.
Note: Hope this answers your question. I actually thought you were asking what if Reader gives Alastor their soul. Idk how I got that
Welcome other asks about my stories too!
Other Works: MASTERLIST
#Circe's Nighty Writings#alastor imagine#alastor x reader#alastor x y/n#alastor x you#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor headcanons#hazbin hotel fanfiction#alastor#hazbin hotel oneshots#yandere alastor#yandere alastor x reader#yandere hazbin hotel#alastor fanfiction#hazbin hotel imagines#Unwanted Soul
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Sid, why do you think people think Kagome is “so annoying” and “whiny?” How exactly did she earn this reputation among her (rather dumb) haters.
The world is not kind to 15 years old girls, and what is Kagome, if not the perfect representation of one?
People forgot they can dislike a character just because and then move on. They'd rather grasp at straws to try and justify themselves, that way they can pretend they're being rational about the constant hate they're spreading when, truthfully, they're just being miserable.
Kagome specifically is in even greater disadvantage because her critics are, mostly, people who haven't read the source material and are instead basing their takes on a biased adaptation – which they probably watched ages before developping any critical skills – or people who see her as a threat to their ship and therefore are already prone to hate her.
The first group won't ever bother going out of their way to try and get a better grasp of her character by reading a 558 chapters long manga and the second group won't change their minds either way.
That's why they call her out for using the beads of subjugation even if: it wasn't her idea in the first place, it served to balance her relationship with Inuyasha at the beginning – since he was powerful and violent while she wasn't –, the rosary became a symbol of their bond, it saved Inuyasha a couple of times and he was always more annoyed than hurt by it, not to mention Sunrise blowing it out of proportion compared to the manga.
You never see Inuyasha getting bashed for hitting Shippo every other episode or Sango getting any heat for constantly slapping Miroku, because funnily enough people seem to understand it was just dumb, outdated, slapstick comedy, a courtesy they refuse to extend to Kagome.
That's also the reason they call her “annoying” and “whiny”: Kagome’s most important lesson was that it's okay to have feelings, so naturally they twisted that into a bad thing in order to keep hating on her. It's not about how her character was written, it's about people using of bad faith and deliberately mischaracterizing Kagome to pass their internalized misogyny as valid criticism.
I know part of the issue is that audiences nowadays are under the impression that for a female character to be strong, she can't cry or be feminine, but you don't see anyone hating on Sango even though she does cry and she can be as feminine as Kagome depending on the circunstances and on her mood.
The truth is that Kagome is playing a game she can never win, because the refs have decided they want her to lose before the match even starts.
If she stands up and sets boundaries for herself, she's annoying. If she doesn't, she's a doormat. If she feels jealousy, she's a bitch. If she shows kindness, she's boring. If she fights, she's overpowered. If she doesn't, she's useless. If any other character cries, it's heartbreaking. If she cries, she's whiny.
If she goes back to her own world, she's selfish. If she leaves that world behind to live the life she wants for herself, she's a stupid girl who left her family for a boy. If she does something grand, that's only because she's someone else's reincarnation. If she messes something up, the fault is hers and hers alone. She is, somehow, simultaneously a Mary Sue and a toxic abuser.
I've personally seen people slut shaming her because she got hitted on by Koga. I've personally seen people call her a "pick me" girl. Kagome. A pick me girl. Kagome.
And none of this is fair, because she is the kind of character who does her best to see the good in others, to understand the reasons why they act the way they do and to offer them some grace, but she gets very little of that in return, be it in canon, be it in fandom.
They always hold her up to such an impossible standard, but they completely forget to ask themselves: would the characters I stan be able to match the expectations I set for Kagome? Scratch that: would the characters I stan even be able to deal with things the way Kagome managed to do? Would I? The answer is most likely no, so how about cutting her a slack?
You ask me how did she earn this reputation among her rather dumb haters, my answer is: she didn't. They're just incapable of understanding that if a particular nuanced, well written, female character is not their cup of tea, they can simply ignore her and focus their attention on the characters they do like instead of spreading their baseless, misogynistic takes on the internet.
#I also feel like there's this trend of disliking protagonists in general#But I won't elaborate because this is already longer than I wanted it to be#And it applies to most of protagonists so it isn't Kagome specific#It's a dicussion for another day#Inuyasha#Kagome#Kagome Higurashui#Thank you for the ask anon#Sidmailing
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Mortal Remains
König x f!reader
written for the request: "You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn't have to go to such extremes." With Either ghost or König? There's not enough fluff for my men.
I don't even know where to begin with this one. It's massive, the longest one I've ever written. I love it, and I hate it. It made me cry. I'm excited and terrified to see what everyone else thinks. I hope someone reading this feels at least one of those emotions while doing so (preferably not hate)
before I begin, thank you to @sprout-fics and @zwienzixes for being lovely beta readers, and a MASSIVE thank you to @itsagrimm for beta-reading, helping me work through ideas, giving me proper German translations, and all around being an amazing and supportive person. I would have given up on this without all the help.
Translations for the German will be at the bottom
Words: 12,450 (yeah...it's big just like him)
Warnings/tags: König is soft and pretends not to be, reader is afab but no pronouns used, canon-typical violence, piv sex, oral f!receiving, self-deprecation, lots of raw emotions, mental health is hard, fluffy ending
---
It started easy enough, as so many things do.
A week-long joint training exercise. Mixed teams, both 141 and KorTac. Something something bonding before the real mission. You hadn’t been listening.
You remember being excited to be teamed with Soap. At least you could get along with someone, you mused. You barely noticed the hooded figure, tall and sticking to the corners, merging with the lengthening shadows. What’s another ghost haunting your footsteps? Nothing special, that’s for sure.
The first four days fly by. Early morning patrols, always in pairs, tracking for signs of the other team. Finding nothing, you move to a different shelter, secure the area, sleep. Rinse, repeat.
The fifth day is different. There are ragged clouds cloaking the sun while the rest of the sky is completely clear. You’re not sure why you noticed that, but you did.
It was an early morning patrol, as usual, you and your partner sweeping around a centerpoint like you were analyzing a single massive clock. Northeast quadrant clear. Southeast clear. Southwest…a scuff in the dirt. You lean down, fingers tracing the air just above it, a black fleck catching your eye. You grasp it, finding it much larger than you originally expected and partially buried. You pull at the rubbery texture, curious. Distracted.
The ambush comes quietly. Perfectly so. The weight lands on your back with an abruptness that flattens your lungs, dropping you directly onto your hands. You might have twisted your wrist, but the pain of that is overshadowed by the thought of the immense beratement you’ll get from your NCO for failing so fast.
Yet the weight from your back is lifted as quietly as it arrived. You turn, rolling to your feet to find that it had been Gaz on top of you only a second ago. Now he dangles like a ragdoll in the air. The shadow holding him draws a knife, taps it against his throat. You're out.
Gaz sighs as he’s set on the ground, giving you a nod before marching off. You don’t return it, too busy staring at the man next to him.
You’d never noticed his eyes before. You’re used to Ghost’s eyes, dark and unyielding, cavernous black holes reaching into a skull long dead. Like he was born to wear the mask.
This man’s eyes couldn’t be more different. They’re pale, washed out, windows into a sky perpetually on the verge of snowfall, slumbering clouds cold and waiting.
They curve down at the corners, lending an air of melancholy to the only part of his face you can see. You wonder how he really feels behind that gaze.
You’re staring.
You clear your throat awkwardly, aiming to thank him before pausing. “I…I’m sorry, I never caught your callsign?”
The head dips down, draped fabric falling down his chest slightly. A nod. “We need to keep moving.”
And he’s walking past you.
-
Two days later, the training exercise finally comes to a head in a fierce brawl over the fake weapons cache. Knives and fists only.
The fight takes only a few minutes. Ghost on the opposite team notices your attempted ambush immediately, throwing his men after you. Your team is outnumbered, stuck in a hallway. But it doesn’t matter.
Ghost and the hooded man roll on the ground, tousling like a pair of tomcats, Ghost landing on top for just a second, raising his knife-
You’re there. Arm wrapped around his shoulders. Blade tapping against his throat. You’re out.
With that, the fight is over. Ghost moves with a grumble at the man under him. It might have been a threat. But the man doesn’t hear it. He’s too busy staring at you with grey-sky eyes wide. A child dressed as a dirty sheet-ghost. “I…I don’t know your-”
You thrust your hand out, yanking him to his feet. “We’d better head back.”
-
You feel him at your back throughout the debriefing. Rolling thunder clouds looming over your head, ready to burst at any second. Your tongue is between your teeth, lungs heaving. Soap whispers a joke in your ear, something about Ghost getting chewed out by the NCO. You can barely muster a smile.
You stay still as the meeting finally ends, waiting for everyone to filter out before you finally turn around.
As you turn, your shoulder knocks into hard muscle and you look up, craning your neck to take in the hooded face and the way his pupils are blown wide into dark pits. A gale you should take shelter from lest you be blown away. But for a moment all you do is stand there, watching your own pupils expand in the turbulent reflection.
Your teeth are carving marks into your tongue by now, and it takes you far too long to draw in a shaky breath and push past him. You have more training tomorrow. It’s sleep your body needs. Not…whatever this is.
He doesn’t say a word as you depart, but his eyes track your every move before the door shuts behind you.
-
Of course this is a night where you can’t sleep. Of course. You flip and roll, hearing your bed frame smack against the wall every time you shift until you get so annoyed you shove it further into your room and flop down on it again. It doesn’t do anything, of course. Just makes your insomnia a little quieter.
It’s nearly midnight by the time you throw your legs over the side in frustration, shivering at the frigid air before throwing on enough clothes to look decent and marching down towards the shared kitchen.
He’s there. Your luck is just perfect tonight. You take a step backwards, planning to flee back to the darkness of the hallway, but he’s already turning his head, shoulders jumping just slightly as you enter his view.
You crumple a little as he notices you, but it’s too late to do anything about it now. “Can’t sleep either, huh?” Your voice is rough as you walk over to the counter next to him, yanking an expired box of cereal from the back of it. Your arm brushes his as you pull it out.
You spare him a glance as you pry the old box open, snorting at his narrowed eyelids. You bet he’s scrunching his nose through that silly hood, too. You reach in, hearing a series of crunches as you rifle around. “Ah, there it is.” You pull out the clear bottle, shaking it triumphantly in his face. “This’ll knock you right out. 50/50 chance you get back up tomorrow.” You trail off, eyes traveling up and down him. “Well, maybe a bit better odds for you.” You chuckle half-heartedly, but it dies a second later.
You puff your lips out in a shaky breath, running your tongue along your teeth before giving him an awkward smile and raising the bottle to him. With that you leave.
-
As soon as you take a sip you spit it right back out with a blech. You’d forgotten how nasty the stuff is. You toss it into the trash can and flop back down with an irritated groan. How hard is it to fall asleep? It’s literally laying there doing no-
Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door, and upon swinging it open you find him, his looming shadow nearly blotting out the light from the hallway behind. It’s easy to forget how big he is when he’s not around. How strong he is. How…deadly.
But right now he’s leaning against your doorframe, hands tapping along his legs. “Have enough for two?”
You smirk a little at that, but as you step closer you feel the heat radiating from him, your shoulder blades clenching together as your mind begins to process something.
You’d sleep better for it. Perform better the next day. It would be good for you.
Your smirk deepens. “I have a better idea.”
As your hand tangles in his shirt you feel a tremble along his skin, but he doesn’t respond when you pull on him. “You’ve been drinking.”
“I haven’t had a drop. Shit’s disgusting.”
“Show me the bottle.”
Despite yourself, a smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you fish the full monstrosity out of the bin to show him. He nods but still doesn’t move, and you find yourself rushing to assure him as heat rushes up your neck. “If you actually just want to drink, we can. We don’t have to do anything-”
“No. That’s not it.” Finally he steps fully into the room, letting the door swing shut behind him before he stalks to you. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” you hiss, moving to hold onto him again, your mind swirling with exhaustion and old memories that you just need out, right now, and he’s right there and he needs it too, you just know it as he swoops down to grab you and toss you on the bed, both of you a mess to rip your clothes off now that the facade has finally fallen.
-
After the fog clears you find yourself panting on your stomach with him above you, caging you in with his forearms. Each of his stuttering inhales brings his burning chest and stomach against your back. Before the heat can become unbearable he pulls away, breaths still heaving as he tucks himself back into his pants.
Your eyes widen in surprise when he makes his way to your bathroom and comes back, washcloth in hand, to softly clean you up. As he finishes he pauses, thumb brushing the edge of an old knife scar running up your hip. “My callsign,” he murmurs, fingers tracing its length. “It’s König.”
And with that, he leaves.
-
You were content for that to be the end of it. You’d each gotten what you needed, after all. And as you stretch languidly across your mattress the following morning, an unfamiliar relaxation settles along your tense muscles. Yes, you would be more than happy to leave it at this.
But as the next training drill ends you find yourself faced with your cold barrack and the prospect of another sleepless night. Before you even realize what you’re doing your legs are moving, ready to go to the kitchen and-
He’s right there, startling as you nearly open your door into his face. He takes a step back, but you’re already holding your hand out and his eyes are burning into you as he takes it and lets you pull him in, lets you shut the door behind you before he’s lifting you with laughable ease and carrying you to bed.
-
You’re already burrowing your face into your pillow by the time he comes back to clean you up. This time his palm runs over a puckered mass on your thigh, a nasty burn scar from failing to dive for cover fast enough. It still hurts sometimes, but the pain is good. Reminds you not to be so careless again.
As you drift off completely to the feel of his warm hand taking in the old wound, you fail to notice the way his head has turned up, eyes running over your face. He contemplates brushing a finger over your hairline, tucking the wild flyaways behind your ear. But no. That would be too…friendly. That’s not what this is.
So instead he spreads your blankets over your now sleeping form, and with one last lingering gaze, leaves you to sleep peacefully.
-
You’re not surprised when you wake up to the empty room. It was what you wanted, after all. You had gotten another restful night out of it, and he got what he wanted. It was a fair trade. A great trade, even.
And as the training drills continue and you feel how naturally your body flows, how efficiently it executes your will when you’re actually well-rested, you find yourself seeking his company out more and more. Soon the pair of you have built your own kind of routine, him coming to you the evening after each debriefing when the leftover sparks of adrenaline are refusing to die out in you both.
He always lays you down on your stomach, opening you up with his fingers as he patiently works you through your first orgasm before letting himself take you. He’s always slow at first, but he finds you restless and impatient, urging him to go faster and harder, to knock you out for the night, to knock everything out of your mind that you never want to think about again.
You try to look back once only for your face to meet his hand. With gentle but firm fingers, he turns your head away.
Afterwards he’s even more delicate, wordlessly cleaning you up with a touch light enough to leave a butterfly unharmed. Although he rarely meets your eyes, his gaze and fingers take in your body, each time finding a new scar for his fingers to brush over like a chaste kiss.
You’re asleep by the time he leaves, and you like it that way. The two of you can crash against each other like blizzards raging and howling until you finally break into clear skies. And afterwards, you’re soldiers again. Well-rested, sure. But soldiers all the same. No hard feelings, either. You know he understands.
Soon you two find yourselves assigned to the same training team more and more. It’s natural, an unspoken communication flowing between you, and your superiors see it in the skyrocketing success rates. They pointedly ignore the way your stares burn holes into each other, keeping their eyes fixed on powerpoints and mission statistics. Not their business, they tell themselves. What matters is that you two do your jobs.
-
And then finally it’s time for the mission, a deployment in the middle of a remote and mountainous forest with terrible radio signal.
Like your first training, it starts easy enough. You’re divided into two teams on two separate mountains, and it’s just your luck that they put you on the team with no one you’re close to. Not even König. Maybe the higher-ups were finally sick of you two.
But you’re an adult. You handle it. You swallow the unease that comes with the teams not being able to contact each other. It’s simply too risky, and the signals are shoddy at best anyway. Base will come in for extraction if the other team succeeds.
With practiced ease you push yourself through two weeks of empty trails and summer-camp camaraderie as the talkative ones share jokes around the empty fireplace and the quiet ones listen from the shadows and chuckle their approval.
Week 3, everything goes to shit.
You should’ve known. You really should’ve known. The weather out here can change in an instant, clouds materializing from a clear sky’s empty expanse like an angry god throwing his rage down from above. You should’ve known the people here would be the same.
Before any of you knew the safehouse was surrounded, they were already through the doors.
You remember waking up to the creak of the old door with a groan, not ready to start your watch yet. The man on watch had been short and wiry, and you marveled at how shadows warp themselves against the light, twisting and turning to make one man look like another, tall and burly and carrying a-
CRASH!
The windows burst inwards in a crescendo of sparks and you’re scrambling backwards, reaching for your
BANG!
Dust from the roof is falling on your head, in your eyes and you’re blinking at the haze, the sting, your hands feeling the solid weight of your weapon and yanking it against you, and you’re stumbling backwards towards the
BANG!
and you’re stumbling forwards towards the
BANG!
And you’re on your knees crawling crawling
BANG! BANG BANG BANG!
crawling away from everything and your eardrums are hot iron seething in your skull and your eyes are being scratched by cats and there’s something warm on your face now and there’s something heavy thunking to the floor just next to you and everything is all dark, all the shadows are choking you and-
-grey. Not black. Not the black of the inside. Grey. A doorway. A hole in the wall. You’re on your knees, your hands are on the wall, you’re pushing yourself up, you’re running, and there are patters behind you and gurgling sounds and the volleys of automatic weaponry but your vision is finally starting to clear, you can see the treeline and all you need is to get there.
A roar surges behind you, and you spin into the sun. Heat slams into your body and you’re flung, a leaf in the wind, hard onto your back as yellows and reds surge in front of you or maybe it was behind you and now you’re a deer, eyeballs bulging out of your head and rolling in your skull as you run from a forest fire, angry and starving, only this fire has legs and they’re longer than yours and it’s following you, you just know it, you can’t hear it but you know.
You’re not a human anymore, you’re barely even an animal, you’re not thinking, you’re a scramble of limbs and an impulse. Run.
You try. You try so hard but there’s nothing carrying you, your legs don’t feel connected to each other anymore and they’re not even your legs you look down and they’re still there but you can’t…feel them?
Tilting. Tilting. Tilting.
Light. Burning light.
Fade to black.
No, wait. Not you. You’re still here. Your legs are wavy and jelly but still there.
You fling an arm out and feel something solid. Cold. Rough. Bark.
You made it to the trees.
There’s no time to celebrate. Behind you lights are still flaring, and with each passing second more bodies are falling to the ground, leaking out into the snow. You have to move.
-
The second safehouse is to the north. It’s your only way out, you know that. The rest of your team would be there.
Should be there.
Better be there.
Don’t think about it, don’t think. Just move.
-
The battle is fading behind you now and your blood is beginning to cool, settling heavy in your veins like the thick jam your mother used to make on warm summer mornings just as the sun’s rays flowed through your windows.
It would be nice to be there right now. Warm. Content. Full. Your stomach growls in agreement at the thought. You have some ration bars in your pocket, but you know it hasn’t been long enough to have one. You need to spread them out, make sure they can last.
Your stomach groans again, and you shake your head. To divert your attention, you take stock of the rest of your body.
You’re scraped and bruised, your head vibrating like…oh, what is it like? Like…your phone after you get added to a group chat you wanted nothing to do with. Hehe. You can barely remember the days when your problems were as simple as that.
You're letting yourself get too distracted. Anyways, as you were saying. You’re a bit battered and scraped up, alright. But no broken bones. No visible deadly wounds. And you still have your gun clamped to your chest with shaky arms. That’s all you need, really. Making it to the safehouse will be a breeze.
-
You’re halfway down the mountain as twilight begins to lighten to dawn, and there’s still no sign of anyone chasing you. It’s a bit warmer down here, and as you flex your fingers and toes you feel the sharp pins and needles radiate through them and force a smile. It’s good, you tell yourself. Means they’re all still there. You might just be in the clear now.
Then the sky darkens again, and it begins to rain.
Within a few minutes you can’t see your hand in front of your face in the downpour and you're forced to hide out. You find a fallen evergreen and burrow through its thick boughs, needles pricking your face and poking in your mouth with a sharp scent that settles behind your eyeballs as you force your way through, certain it will block out the worst of the rain. It doesn’t.
-
It’s past noon by the time the deluge finally lets up, and as you step out, cursing your shelter for all its faults, the slick earth shifts abruptly under you. With a cry, you are yanked off of your feet into a roll down the slope. You fling out your arms, grasping for anything solid, but the world is a mass of dirt and grey-brown snow-slush and you can’t stop yourself until your hip jams into a tree-stump. Hard.
You hiss, twisting your face upwards off the ground. Bad idea. The mud-slush runs down into your nose and you splutter, spasming and hacking up half the mountain. You move to wipe your eyes on your arm but only rub more dirt in them, gritting your teeth and hissing through them at the sting.
You push yourself onto your hands and knees with a whimper, gingerly feeling around your hip. Not broken. Just another bruise. What’s one more bruise? It’ll be fine.
You’ll be fine.
-
Your ankle is twisted. You’ve wrapped it as best as you can, but every time you put weight on it, you imagine a great big serpent with needles for scales is slithering under your skin, wrapping itself tight around the bones and squeezing.
Even worse, it's getting dark again. Fucking FUCK.
You should get yourself a thesaurus for Christmas. Fuck really doesn’t have much weight to it when you say it every other sentence.
Whatever. You’re fucking screwed.
Your clothes are soaked, you’re painted in dirt and runny snow and as soon as it gets dark temperatures are going to drop fast enough to freeze you right in place like a stupid fucking statue. Fuck this, fuck this so hard what do I do what do I do.
You bury your face into your hands, heels pressing hard into your eyes. It doesn’t matter that your hands have mud mittens anymore because your face is solid mud and you’ve had dark spots in your eyesight for hours and maybe if you rub them really hard this will all be a shitty dream your shitty brain made up and then you can wake up in your shitty cot with your blanket that’s too thin and it will be so fucking lumpy and uncomfortable and perfect. It would be perfect. Maybe König would be there.
What?
You’re breaking down and going to die in a few hours and you’re thinking of him? Some dude you fuck? What the hell is wrong with you?
He was really warm, though. And he was always so gentle afterwards. For hands that kill with such brutal precision, his fingers felt too delicate to be his when they ran along your body, mapping every scar and dimple like he was trying to memorize you. Like he was terrified that tomorrow he might wake up blind and never be able to see you again, so he needed to be able to recognize you by touch alone.
You didn’t even know what his face looked like, but you could get lost in those eyes, you think. You've learned that the skin above them stretches when he’s surprised, and the skin under them scrunches up when he laughs, so you think it must scrunch like that when he smiles, too. You’ve even seen the way his lids drift down to hide the way his eyes roll back when he’s bored.
What do they look like when he’s excited? When he’s angry? Sad?
You wonder what it would be like to look him in the eyes while you both fell apart. Would he look away and screw them shut? Would they water a little, as yours so often did?
Would he stay the night if you asked? Would he hold you? Would he…
No. This isn’t happening. No way in hell. You are not dying thinking of a random man you’ve barely spoken two words to. It’s ridiculous. It’s pathetic. You’re better than this.
You will not go out like this.
You yank yourself to a tree whose limbs burst forth in sprays of dark needles, your shoulders screaming at you as you pull yourself up on the branches, feeling like a toddler learning to walk for the first time. It’s pitiful. You swing your good leg up, grinding your teeth so hard your jaw pops as you pull yourself up to a thick fork and begin pulling down limbs above you, cutting through the ones around you, tying and weaving and undoing and redoing.
It is dark by the time you’ve finished, a thick nest of evergreen boughs settled under you and woven walls crushing you in. You have to curl into a tight ball to fit into it, but you can no longer feel the breezes from outside. You’ve stripped your clothes off and spread them along the walls as best you can, hoping they can dry just a little.
You thank the mud for clogging your nose. You don’t even want to imagine what you and your clothes must smell like by now.
Maybe by the time you meet up with the others you’ll smell so bad you’ll make one of the rookies vomit. Ghost did that last mission, and you and Soap nearly burst a lung as the poor guy emptied his guts over and over again.
You chuckle at that and try your best to fall asleep.
-
By the time you make it down the mountain the next day, your knees are knocking against each other with every step and your weapon is plastered with muddy slush that has frozen and melted and frozen all over again. The valley is even worse than the slope, with runoff from the rain congregating in a swampy mess that has you sinking up to your calves in some places. Lifting a leg in this feels like pulling yourself out of concrete, so you get really good at sliding each foot forward without raising it upwards at all.
You think the pressure from the mud is helping with the pain. You barely feel it when you move now.
Your jaw is clenched so hard you chip one of your molars.
-
You’re halfway through the valley when one of them finds you.
It’s funny how it happens. How you both stand in the mud staring at each other. How you both instinctively know who the other is through the curtain of earth camouflaging you both, yet each stand stock-still as statues anyway.
A second passes.
Two.
Three.
In an instant your guns are to your shoulders, fingers rushing to crush the-
Nothing happens. You squeeze. Squeeze again. The man shakes his gun and yells in frustration, the mud and ice having rendered your weapons unfireable.
But not unusable. The man’s head whips back to you with a growl and he lunges forward, his foot sinking into a deep patch and jerking him down face first. He throws himself up again, splatting forward another pace.
You slide backward, forcing yourself to slow down, to keep your feet under you as you move gut-wrenchingly slowly, searching for solid ground. He’s flailing and flinging himself towards you but the mud is slowing him down, and there’s a rocky patch right behind you. You’re going to make it.
He reaches you before you reach the edge, raising his gun and throwing his body behind a downwards blow. Yours is already coming up to deflect, but the blow sends you backwards, landing on your back with a splash. He’s on top of you, a hand shoving your face down as mud flows around it.
You thrash and wiggle, a scream cut off as your mouth fills with liquid dirt. Your hand is whirling all around and it catches something and you yank.
He howls as you pull his ear, sending him off-balance just enough to raise your head for a choking gasp before your palm is on his face, shoving him sideways. He rolls away from you, struggling to his feet as you’re on your hands and knees and your gun is in the mud but so is his. He tries to reach for it but he’s stuck, and in that precious heartbeat of time your legs are back under you, feet planted deep and wide.
He whirls towards you as you stand, throwing a punch at your torso that you know you can’t dodge, you can’t even move, so you throw your fist sideways, twisting, forcing all your strength into shoving from your rear leg so that when you catch his knuckles on your forearm they are savagely wrenched sideways with your momentum. His pinkie pops outwards with a crunch, and he falls back with a choked sob.
You grab your gun off the ground, throwing your whole body into a swing at his head, shattering through his palm as he tries to block it. You both fall sideways with the momentum but you find your feet faster, gripping the weapon through the slime coating it as you bring the stock straight down into his skull.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
Your grip slides, dirt scraping more of your skin off with each blow, but he’s not moving. You stumble backwards drunkenly, falling onto your forearms again and army-crawling, gun held tightly in each hand, all the way to the edge. You flop on your back then, one eye on the body, and heave great breaths, coughing again and again until your body has enough and you curl inwards, choking out mud and throwing up even more. You try to even your breathing, try to filter the adrenaline out of your system so you don’t crash. In, out. In, out. In out in out inoutinoutinoutinoutin-FUCCCCCKK. You shake your head violently, over and over.
You take one last look at the body, only seeing it because you know where to look. A mud-covered shoulder pokes out of the ground, the rest already lost.
You can’t balance on your feet anymore, so you crawl away.
You don’t even bother to make a shelter that night. You crawl under a rotting log, ripping your last ration bar from your pocket and devouring it, licking the crumbs from your stained and tainted fingers. You curl up and fall asleep just like that, bones chattering and muscles spasming.
-
Helicopter blades wake you up in the morning. You’re on your feet, falling and jumping and running and falling, flailing your arms because you know those blades, that’s your team and they’re here for you and you’re finally free, you did it you did it you’re so proud of yourself you can’t wait to have a warm bath and then maybe even afterwards you can see-
The helicopter passes over you and disappears around the mountain.
You stare at it, deathly still. It’s just sweeping the area, making sure it’s safe to land.
But the wingbeats have already faded into the distance, replaced by a vast and engulfing silence. Time stretches out before you, and you’re still staring at the mountain.
Your stomach breaks the silence with a gurgle.
You flop down, shoving your face into the ground, and scream.
-
You press the button on your radio, cracking the caked mud. It clicks, and you hear nothing. Not even static. You click it again. And again, this time just to hear the sound. Rapidly you click it again and again and again.
You start laughing, your abs clenching and strangling your organs as you guffaw, thrashing around like a headless chicken, and thinking about yourself as a headless chicken makes you laugh even louder. Everything is just so funny, none of this is real, you’re on the Truman Show, you’re the biggest comedy in the world. It’s even funny that your laughter only comes out in squeaky wheezes. It’s all just a big joke. Haha. You can’t wait to tell someone.
You fall asleep just like that, grinning up at the sky with dirt in your teeth.
-
You wake up, stare into the sun, and go back to sleep.
-
You feel lighter.
Is this what it feels like to leave your body?
It’s not as bad as you thought.
-
You wonder if König will remember you.
-
The ground beneath you is moving, sliding under you and scraping along you.
There's no ground underneath you at all now, and something is pressing, and you feel your legs dangling and swinging all around you, the world spinning a jig and you the unwilling passenger. You think you might tell it to stop, but it doesn't listen to you.
You're yanked back into consciousness by a thundering vibration setting every bone against itself. You jolt upwards, feeling heavy pressure on your shoulders as your eyes roll back into your head. The world is black. Black and blue and blurred. Through the haze you begin to make out a white visage and two black voids that pierce through you.
This must be hell. You don’t want to be awake for your judgement.
Your consciousness drifts away again, blocking out the rumbling flight of the helicopter, completely oblivious to the warm bodies pressed in around you, speaking rapidly through their headsets.
Any more? Sweep around again.
There's nothing else here.
Ok. Let's bring these ones back, then.
-
You are still asleep as your body is carried into a hospital room, completely unresponsive as the nurses strip and bathe you with clinical precision. You don’t wake until hours later, seeing only a single nurse checking your vitals and bandages. Each hand and foot has been carefully wrapped, the angry red battlefield of blisters and exposed flesh meticulously covered in pristine, unblemished white. The nurse offers a smile as you fight through the haze, imagining you are underwater and slowly floating to the surface, watching the sun jiggle and warp through the abyss above you. Just bad blisters, the nurse is telling you. Very lucky. Very lucky. You think you might nod back. She’s right, of course. You’re alive, aren’t you?
-
Ghost comes by as you’re released the next day. They’ve rewrapped your hands in a bandage that gives you a little more flexibility, and he finds you sitting on the edge of the bed, staring into the white fabric.
The mattress shifts as he settles beside you. He doesn’t say a word, but his eyes are trained on you. Black voids in a mask of white.
“You left me,” you finally whisper, eyes still on your hands.
“What?”
You look at him, trying to see something in the face to get mad at, but his eyes are just a little wider than before. Confused, maybe.
“The helicopter…” you begin, voice scratchy, and clear your throat. “The helicopter flew right over me.”
“That wasn’t our helicopter.”
“It was heading back from the safehouse.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“Oh,” you huff, sinking into yourself. “I…”
You stop as he clears his throat, shoulders expanding in a loud breath. “It’s alright. You were knocked out pretty good by the time our boys found you. Happens to the best of us.”
You nod, swallowing again, and wish someone else was here to comfort you, literally anyone but Ghost. “Is…uh…is…umm…is Soap ok?”
Ghost grunts. “Johnny took one to the arm, but he’ll pull through. I was just going to visit him now.”
You push yourself to your feet, proud that you only sway a bit. “Can I-”
“No,” Ghost cuts you off. “You’ll have time to visit him later. For now you need to go and rest. That’s an order,” he cuts you off as you open your mouth to protest. Your jaw shuts. Call it obedience, call it cowardice, but you find you just don’t have it in you to argue the point. You promise yourself you’ll see Soap in the morning. Well, later in the morning, seeing as it’s somehow 0100 hours already.
When Ghost leaves you slump, any need for straight posture gone with the departure of your superior officer. Trying to keep your breathing even, you will your legs to carry your body down the medical corridor. Just a little longer, you promise them, then you’ll get the break you deserve. But your body has had enough of your unfulfilled promises, and you find yourself forced to sink onto one of the shitty metal chairs littering the hallway. Just a little rest, and then I’ll go back to my quarters.
You wake to the familiar sounds of agony. Before your body has the chance to disagree, instinct has you on your feet again, hands grabbing at the thin air where your sidearm should be. My holster, my holster, where the hell is-
Your eyes land on the white-washed walls. Too clean. Too smooth. And your hands aren’t moving like they should, strangled by white fabric. It finally sinks in that you’re far from the battlefield, far from any fight.
The sounds continue, drawing your eye to one of the many nondescript doors lining the corridor. Someone having a nightmare, probably. Or reacting badly to a procedure, maybe. Either way, a problem best left for the nurses with their iron wills and their tranquilizers. You have enough bruises already. Best not add a black eye to the list.
A pitiful whimper sounds through the door, one that has your heart twisting like a towel being wrung out, sending all the blood to your throat and stomach.
Fuck it. What’s one more bruise?
Your fingers curl the handle down, and you shrink in on yourself as the door swings open on its own with a creak. You catch it and hastily shut it behind you, trying not to make any more noise.
The room is small enough that even the military-issue cot feels too big for it. The room is made even smaller by the man lying in the cot, arms dangling off the sides as he thrashes, his feet hanging off the end. You can see the crumpled blanket on the floor and automatically avert your eyes. The hood is still on, but below it he’s wearing an undershirt and boxers, and you realize this is the most of him you’ve ever seen.
You press yourself to the wall as he spasms again, a leg kicking out and narrowly missing you, causing you to notice the thick white bandage wrapped around his thigh, and the dark line slowly being painted along it.
Hesitantly you flick the lights on, wincing at the burn that rushes through your eyeballs, but he doesn’t even react to it. You have no idea how to wake him up without breaking a bone, so you press your back to the wall, slowly skirting along the edge of the room and staying as far out of his reach as you can, praying to whatever old ghosts are listening that he doesn’t wake up and go straight into murder mode. Or, you know, default alert soldier setting. This is a stupid idea.
As you approach his head you lean over as far as you can, stretching one arm out until the socket pops in protest. You poke his shoulder and leap back.
Nothing.
You take a step closer and lean in again.
You’re immediately interrupted by the door swinging open with a much-louder creak. You and the nurse both pause and stare at each other for a moment, startled, and you sheepishly move to straighten and pull your arm back.
With viper-like speed an arm shoots out to grab your wrist, capturing it in a deadly grip and you yelp, whirling back to the man in the bed and raising your opposite arm.
You freeze when you see his eyes, so wide they’re more white than color. He’s stock-still, fixated on you like a mouse caught in a cat’s gaze. Paralyzed by fear, praying. Shaking.
His hand is…shaking. “Hey, hey,” you coax, hesitantly pulling your arm back in so you can place it over his fingers. “It’s just me, big guy. You’re safe.”
His chest heaves outwards, and you feel his hand relax a little before his head snaps towards the nurse as she takes a step closer, cradling something small and cylindrical in her hands. “It’s alright,” she speaks directly to you. “I can take it from here.”
König releases the breath he’s held, shoving himself backwards on the bed with a shake of his head, prompting the nurse to click her tongue at him before raising the needle. You realize it’s a lot bigger than you first thought. “You’ll be fine,” she’s assuring him. “It will hurt a lot less once it’s done.”
König’s head turns very slowly, back up to you, and for a second you’re confused at his gaze, wondering why he thinks you have enough knowledge to give him any medical advice. Then you notice the way his eyes seem just a little too shiny in the light, the way his other hand is clenching and unclenching around the bedsheet.
You’ve always known him as the perfect soldier, quick and to the point, pin-prick precise, a dancing whirlwind of death. More monster than man. You know him as the one who laughs with every good kill, mocking the reaper of death with a smile. Look at how slow you are. I got here first. He’s the one who dances on the precipice of fate and spits over the edge.
Even sprawled out like this, sweaty and trembling, you are well aware of every flex of his muscles, of the strength he holds back in his grip. Yet as you look into the eyes of the storm you find that for the first time you see no hint of the giddy killing machine looking back at you. The eyes staring back at you from this big soldier’s body are those of a fragile little kid. And he’s terrified.
You gulp, your tongue catching on the back of your throat. “Yeah…yeah, it’ll be ok. I’ll be right here.”
Finally he relaxes, slumping back into the bed, and the nurse takes the opportunity to give him the shot. You feel his flinch in a wave of pressure radiating up your wrist and forearm, but his gaze doesn’t move. He keeps looking into your eyes until his own begin to droop and he sinks even further into the mattress.
Before his hand drops from your wrist you catch it, the skin under your bandages protesting at the sudden flexion. You choose to ignore it, settling down on the floor next to his bed as your own eyes begin to follow his. Even as your head falls into your knees and your body finally gives itself completely over to darkness, you refuse to let go.
-
You’re woken by something warm trailing along your hairline. You jerk, smacking the back of your head into the wall with an irritated grunt. König’s arm hovers in the air just in front of your face, and you turn to see him pressed to the edge of the bed, looking a little guilty. “Sorry,” he murmurs.
You should be, startling me like that, you want to say. But when you open your mouth, what comes out instead is “No, it’s ok, I just…I wasn’t expecting it.”
König gulps audibly, and the cot creaks as he pulls his hand back, shifting his body even closer. “You stayed.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
“Never,” he hisses, and you find yourself staring into his eyes again, only this time they’ve taken on their old torrential intensity.
Now it’s yours that are as wide as a child’s. You gulp, feeling the muscles of your jaw flex and unflex. “Ok,” you finally murmur. “I’ll stay.”
-
And you do. For two more nights König stays in the infirmary, weathering the steady rounds of nurses and bandage changes with a steely resolve even as his fists flex and twist into the sheets. You stay with him all the while, but he doesn’t reach for your hand again, not after noticing your own bandages.
The second night you sleep in the cot next to him at his insistence. You’re hurt too, he reasons. You need a real bed to rest in. He scoots himself to the back edge to give you room, and when you wake up he hasn’t moved.
After the third night you wake to his hand resting on your arm. It’s a small gesture. Innocent even. Yet still you find yourself contemplating it, barely saying a word as the nurses come to remove his bandages. You grind your jaw as you take in the puckered line of stitches running from his knee up to the edge of his boxers, looking away politely as the nurses help him into a pair of sweatpants.
You don’t even say anything when you let him lean on your shoulders, using your own aching body as a sacrificial lamb to transport him back to his barrack. Once you get him into bed you hover in the doorway, taking in the shadows of the walls, twisting your wrists back and forth, a habit you picked up to alleviate the pain from flexing your fingers. They’re in even thinner bandages now, but you’d rather be safe than sorry.
Maybe there’s nothing to say. You found him in a vulnerable situation where he needed a lifeline. It could have been anyone, he was barely lucid. Now he surely wanted to forget all of that vulnerability and go back to a time where he hadn’t needed help from anyone. Not even you. Especially not you. He was a soldier, after all. Fondness wasn’t in the job description.
Best not to say anything then. Just…leave and get this over with. Just like that. Yeah…easy. Really easy.
Your move to shut the door behind you is halted by him calling your name. Your real name. You didn’t even know he knew your name.
He calls it again, quieter this time, and you lean back in the door, eyes drifting across his room to him. He’s still sitting on the bed where you left him, only now he’s hunched over to rest a forearm on his good thigh. “Come back here,” he breathes, voice cracking, and it hits you right in your stomach, settling there like a wounded bird, flapping and screeching at you to stay away, you’re already in too deep, you don’t know how this will end.
But it’s too late. You’re walking forward, the door swinging shut behind you. Locked. You’re already reaching out for the hand he offers, only for him to reach past the bandages and grab your wrist. You pause at that, staring into the hazy depths of his eyes, pupils bursting for you again. Slowly, inch by excruciating inch, he straightens again, face coming closer to yours as another hand snakes around your neck to help guide you down to straddle his good thigh, moving your forearms to rest on each of his shoulders.
The bird in your stomach has moved to your chest, and you’re positive he can feel your heavy breathing even through his mask with how close you are. His eyes look down to your lips, and you wonder if he is going to lift his hood up and kiss you, your cheeks flushing in anticipation as he leans forward.
Only instead he rests his forehead against yours, eyes drifting closed. You feel your arms drift upwards with his inhale. “Stay with me,” he exhales. “One more night.”
You nod against his forehead, wrapping your arms around his neck and finally letting your own eyes close. Your breathing is slowed down now, and you find yourself enjoying the warmth you feel radiating from everywhere you touch him. One of his hands has spread against your thigh, while the other still rests along your neck, thumb tracing up and down your jaw. You know you could fall asleep just like this.
König, however, has other ideas. As you slump even further to him, both of his hands drift to your hips. You notice the movement, sighing at the pleasant sensation of his hands running over your body. You don’t notice the intention until he takes a deep breath, and in one smooth motion he has stood and twisted to lay you down on the bed, climbing on top of you. You gasp, feeling your heart stutter all over again, blood rushing to your core as you feel the fabric of his hood rub up your neck. His nose, you think.
Fuck, you want him. You want him just like this and any other way he’s willing to give, but you can’t, you shouldn’t, and you know you have to at least try to protest. You bite back a whimper as a hand drags up your inner thigh. “König, your leg.”
“I don’t care,” he growls. “Say my name again.”
You groan in protest and he pulls back, tilting your face up to his. “Is this not what you want?” He feels the way your jaw flexes and pulls away.
“Wait. No. I want this. You. I want you. Just…please be careful.”
He hears the last part, but he’s past giving a damn about his own body now. His hand is already undoing your belt and he’s leaning back to ease your pants and underwear off your legs, lazily tossing them to the side.
A harsh word escapes his throat as he looks down at you, but you don’t catch it through the blood rushing in your ears. “Close your eyes,” he orders, and unthinkingly you do, another growling swear reaching your ears. “So obedient for me.”
You hear the shuffling of fabric and feel a hand wrap around one of your knees, lifting it up for a warm tongue to swirl along the inside of it, for wet lips to place a sloppy kiss just above where his tongue had just been. His lips slide up again, and this time he sucks on the skin just slightly, and you feel your leg tremble as a tiny moan escapes you, but he’s already moving further up and this time sucking harder, and then further and harder and further and harder until he’s against your inner thigh and his teeth are sinking into you and you yelp his name, whining in frustration as he pulls back.
“No,” you pant, “don’t stop. Please.”
You feel a chuckle rumble in his throat and his nose presses into the bottom of your slit. You jolt, squeezing your eyes tighter as it slides up through you before pressing into your sensitive spot, and he inhales.
“Fuck,” you cry, tangling your hands in the sheets only to choke on a sound of pain.
König pulls back immediately and you shake your head at him, a sob on the edge of your quivering lips.
“Easy. Watch your hands.”
You grit your teeth and nod, relaxing your fingers and turning your palms up.
“Good,” he purrs as his hands hook under the backs of your knees, easily throwing your legs over his shoulders. As he settles back down you feel the muscles in his back flexing against your calves and moan before his mouth is even on you.
He hums contentedly at the sound, running his tongue along the length of you before swirling it around your clit. His lips pucker against it and he sucks, pulling away with a soft pop that has you clenching your legs around him. He moves in again, lazily altering between sucking and tracing his tongue just around your bud, feeling the way you flex against him, hearing the way you react to each movement, and committing all of it to memory before shifting his head so he can dip his tongue inside you. He groans at the taste, the vibration of it radiating up under your ribs and down through your legs. You’re quiet now, feeling how close you are settling heavy over you, drowning you in deliciously sweet honey.
He feels the shaking of your legs around him and returns to your clit as he slowly works a finger into you, curling it upwards to stroke at the spongy part inside of you.
You break quietly, choking on his name as the pleasure strangles your muscles and sets them briefly aflame, fresh sensations flowing through you as he continues to touch you just so, only pulling away when you sink into the mattress and your legs slip from his shoulders.
You hear the bed frame creak as he pulls back, running a hand up your thigh before the shifting sound of fabric hits your ears, and you feel the mattress sink down in different places as he shifts.
“Open your eyes.”
You do as he says, your disappointment at seeing the sniper’s hood obscuring his face immediately squashed by the realization that the rest of him is completely naked.
You’re seeing him for the first time.
Fucking hell, what a sight.
Your eyes rest on the delicious curve of his cock first, marveling at the pink tip and the thick veins running along it. You had felt his size on plenty of occasions, but seeing it for the first time is a new beast entirely, one that has you biting your lip and wiggling your hips like a teenager all over again.
But soon your eyes are taken in by the strong curves of muscle outlining his hips, and your eyes are traveling upwards to the delicious bulges of his chest, your own heaving at the sight. You find yourself wanting to trace the outline of each hill and valley of muscle that flows along his shoulders, down his arms, to the hands, wanting to run your tongue along the veins like raised rivers spreading down his forearm and across the back of each hand.
You wonder what his back looks like. You wonder how the muscles of his neck shift as he moves, what the outline of his jaw is shaped like. You are greedy and want to take everything he has, and at the same time you are desperate for anything he can give you. You’re a peasant kneeling at the feet of your king, ready to lick the crumbs he throws you off the floor.
His head tilts playfully, breaking you out of your reverie. “You like what you see?”
Your chuckle catches in your chest, only a tiny puff of air leaving your mouth. “Yes.”
His eyes scrunch a little, and you imagine he is grinning as he leans over, balancing himself above you. He moves back a bit, hand adjusting your hips as he positions himself. He looks back up at you, and you nod eagerly, your hands reaching up to grab his shoulders. He clicks his tongue, glancing at them, and with a groan you put your hands above your head. He moves one of his own to grasp your wrists, keeping them pinned as he sinks onto his forearms.
You feel the head of his cock running up and down your folds, and instinctively bend your back to give him a better angle, earning an approving hum that makes you even wetter. But as he braces himself and begins to drive into you, a strangled sound smashes through his gritted teeth.
Oh no. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”
He doesn’t answer, only pressing his face into your neck, inhaling heavily as you feel his entire body stiffening against you. “It’s…it’s fine,” he hisses, his hand strangling your wrists. “Just …” he heaves another breath. “Ah... Ich… I…need a…moment.”
You sigh, wiggling a hand out of his grip to push his chin up. He lets you move his face back, and even in the dim light you can see the way the skin around his eyes has gone even paler than normal. “Get off,” you murmur.
He slumps, twisting his face out of your grip and keeping his eyes on the wall. He stays like that for a second before giving a swift nod and pulling out, maneuvering backwards on the bed and moving to get off.
“Wait!” you burst out, and he freezes. “That’s not what I meant.”
After another moment he looks at you in bewilderment, so you sit up and shift to the side, patting the bed next to you. Awkwardly, he crawls to it, nearly dragging his bad leg, stiffening again when you place your wrists on his shoulders. “Let me?”
After a second of staring into your eyes, he nods again, allowing you to push on him, laying him on his back before you straddle him and finally take your shirt off. You see his chest rise with a shuddering breath and before you really think about it you’re leaning down to lick a stripe up his sternum. Seeing his pecs jerk upwards on either side of your tongue emboldens you and you shift your head, running your tongue back down to circle over one of his nipples before you suck.
Immediately the muscles flex again and he pushes up into you. “Like that,” he snarls, loud and vibrating through your skull. You’re aching down there again, but you’re not done yet. You release him with a squelch, watching the patch of saliva glisten before moving to give the other nipple the same treatment, your heart leaping at the sounds falling from his mouth as he quivers under you.
“König,” you croon. “Touch me.”
He whimpers as you flick your tongue over the sensitive bud. “Where?”
“Anywhere. Grab my hair, squeeze my tits, just put your hands on me.”
You groan as he obeys, long fingers tangling tightly in your hair as his other hand spreads along your ribcage, thumb sliding over your breast. You sigh, leaning down to bite into his pec, moaning as his grip on you tightens. You kiss the mark left by your teeth before leaning back. His hands move to cup both of your breasts as you raise yourself up and sink down onto his cock. You’re too excited and you go too fast, and a sharp pinch of pain seizes at your entrance. You gasp, instinctively leaning forward to brace yourself on your palms, but his hands move to your waist, catching you before you hurt them any further.
“I have you,” he whispers, voice scratchy, and despite the pain you clench at the sound of what you do to him. He chokes on his next words, a groan coming out instead. “Do you need to get off?”
“No!” You whisper-yell back so quickly that he laughs, and despite everything you laugh with him. He runs his hands up and down your sides, feeling you start to relax a little, but not enough yet. “Tell me what you need,” he murmurs.
“It’s fine.” You close your eyes and try to focus on your breathing. “Just need…a moment.”
“Hypocrite.”
You shoot your eyes open to glare at him, only to see his chest shake with another chuckle at your scrunched-up angry face. “Your leg is sliced open, it’s not the same,” you scoff.
His eyes glimmer with the start of a witty retort before one of his hands freezes over your bottom rib, drawing his lovely gaze away from yours. His thumb is circling around a tiny hairline of a scar, bone-white and soft. You’ve already forgotten how you got it.
“This one,” he murmurs. “It is new.”
“How…how did you notice?”
“It wasn’t there last time.” His tone was quiet and matter-of-fact, like the answer was obvious, and it takes you back to every time his hands ran over you as you drifted into sleep. How long did he stay there after you fell asleep? How long did it take him to commit you to memory so well that a patch of skin even you had forgotten was instantly recognized as something new?
Your body has always been a means to an end, a vehicle carrying you rather than a full part of you. Batter it, toss it around, whatever you need to do to get the job done. And when your body protests, you treat it like any other tool you can beat into submission. Like your first battered old car that revved to life with a well-placed kick.
But now all you can think of is his hands running over you with thorough determination, acknowledging each new mark with a gentle reverence that was more than you deserved. Getting to know you in the only way he knew how.
For the first time in a long time, you’re reminded to see this body as something more than a bruised vessel you’re obligated to carry around. He reminds you to see it as something more.
Fuck, you think you might love him.
“König?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
His head tilts a little, his hand still running along your rib, and your cheeks flush.
Before he can reply, you gulp a little. “I…I think I’m ready.”
He hums again, his hands moving back to rest on your hips. You stay still for another moment, looking into his eyes. You don’t think you can memorize his body, not like he has yours. But you have memorized his eyes, have burned them into your mind so clearly you saw them even as you were trapped on that damned mountain. Thinking about him.
And now you think he might've been thinking about you, too.
You feel him twitch inside of you, pulling you out of your thoughts. Taking a deep breath, you raise yourself up slowly, feeling his hands tighten and take some of your weight, following your lead as you sink into him again, this time with a sigh that echoes his own. Slowly, hesitantly, you raise yourself up and down, feeling how easily he stretches you, how easily he could break you.
But he never has. The only pain you’ve gotten from him was caused by your own impatience. As you keep going, finding an angle that has him dragging across your most sensitive parts and making you even wetter, you become confident that there’s no chance of pain, allowing yourself to speed up.
His hands are steady as ever, guiding you up and down, but beneath you his shoulders and chest begin to squirm and heave. His eyes wander all around, and his breaths are scattered and staccato.
And his sounds. You’d never known a man to be so loud, and now you know you’ve been missing out all these years. Every grunt, every groan, every moan and whimper goes straight through your core, winding you up faster and faster. As you get closer his sounds shift, and you realize he’s started to stutter out words.
His eyes are hazy and unfocused but you can still tell they’re trained on you, and you urge your body to calm down for just a minute longer, just long enough to hear what he’s saying.
You can’t make out any of the words, but his hands are even tighter on you now and the way his voice shifts from growling to whimpering settles into a melodic language that has you crying out for him anyway.
Beneath your trembling body, he keeps going. “Never..told you …du bist wie ein Traum,” another whimper leaves his lips. “Ich kann nicht glauben, dass du wirklich hier bist.” He gasps as you clench tighter around him. “Du bist…du…Du bist viel zu gut für mich…Dein Lächeln und …und…” His eyes are watering and you slow down only for his hands to dig into you, urging you to speed up again. “Ich weiß nicht wie ich dich loslassen soll aber du verdienst so viel mehr als …”
His mind is lapsing again, his determined confession faltering into a fervent prayer sent to the only god he’s ever believed in, to you - moving over him and taking everything he is giving you, making him wish he had more, so much more than the desert-dry heart of a killer whose hands can only ever pull things apart. His thumb is over the scar on your rib again and his blurry vision is taking in the white of the bandage wrapped around your hands and it has him wishing his own hands could build something instead of destroy it just so he could put you back together again. You’re coming apart around him, crying his name, and he’s thinking of flinging his body in front of you, taking every bullet and blade meant for you, because his body is all he has to give and he knows how to sacrifice it, he knows he’ll gladly lay it at your altar, bloody and broken, if it could only mean making sure he’d never be surprised by a new scar again. Maybe you’d even remember him a little when he was gone.
He’s trying to tell you all of that, the messy syllables punching through his throat. “Niemals, niemals, nie,…” but before he can finish he’s failing already, falling apart under you and screaming your name and emptying everything he has into you.
It’s not enough.
You’re laying on top of him now and he tries his best to be gentle but his entire body is shaking as he rolls you off and staggers to his bathroom, slamming the door behind him and sinking against it.
He shatters in a whole-body-wracking sob.
You’re never going to look at him again.
He tucks his legs in, squeezing his knees into his chest, squeezing even harder as a burn radiates out from the stitches, trying to rein in his ragged breathing in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, he can save this and cover up the fact that he’s crying.
It was just meant to be casual sex. He wasn’t supposed to start caring. That’s not what you wanted. It’s not fair to you. It’s not your fault he let himself get emotional. And now he’s ruined the only thing you two did have, he wanted to make you feel better and now he’s made you so uncomfortable and…and…
He slams his forehead into his knees and sobs again.
He’s pathetic. Pathetic to think this could be something more. Pathetic to think he could have something more.
Everything hurts.
That’s what he signed up for, isn’t it?
That’s what he deserves.
A knock on the door has his head jerking back up, hands clutching his knees hard enough the knuckles just might pop through the skin. “Go away!”
“No.” Your tone is flat as he hears a thunk against the other side of the door, imagining you leaning against it and sliding down, mirroring him perfectly. “Not until you talk to me.”
“No.”
You sigh. “That's how it’s gonna be? Well, in that case, to quote a man I…admire very much, I can make you talk.” You drop your voice, trying and failing to mimic his battle growl.
He snorts despite himself.
You take that as a cue to continue. “For one, I’m not leaving until you do. You’ll be stuck with my annoying-ass voice forever.”
“I like your voice.”
“Oh…umm…thank you. In that case I’ll…I’ll steal all your knives and I’ll draw a kangaroo on your door and-”
“You wouldn’t dare,” he growls.
“Guess you’ll never know if you keep that door closed. And that’s not all, I’ll…I’ll steal those cheap chocolates we get every supply drop. Don’t deny it, I know everyone joked it was Ghost but I saw you take them all. You love those.” You smile, laughing a little. “On the other hand, I’ll fly to Austria right now if that’s what it takes to get some chocolate you’d really like. I’d even get you some of those waffle things you were telling Soap about that one time I caught you both raiding the snack cabinets. Well, I’d probably eat some of those. But I promise to save most of them for you. Just…please talk to me. I’ll…I’ll…” you’re cut off by your own squeak as the door opens and you fall backwards.
His hands are already there to catch you, and once you sit back up he stays there, half-crouched and awkward, eyes anywhere but your own.
Slowly, you open your arms, watching his head turn back to you.
In an instant he’s lunged into you, burrowing his face into your neck with an awkward grunt as he stretches his bad leg out to the side. You try to change to a comfier position for him but the man is like a brick wall.
It’s nice.
So you let yourself stay there, wrapping around him as he wraps around you on the hard floor. It’s a softness unknown to you both, two soldiers carved razor-sharp from solid steel. But as you let yourself sink into him, you find yourself liking the strange tranquility of this moment, the way two bodies made for war can still drape over each other and feel peace instead. Against all better judgement, against any scrap of common sense you have left, you find yourself yearning for a few less battles if it can mean more of this. You let your eyes close, imagining it for just a little while.
After a while, he pulls back, moving to lean against the wall and pulling you so you can balance on his uninjured thigh. You let your head loll onto his shoulder, face turned into the hood. His chin rests on your temple.
“Are you cold?”
He grunts noncommittally, eyes half-closed. “Are you?”
“Nooo,” you mumble, burrowing into his neck. He shifts, maneuvering you off his lap, only to grunt when he tries to push on his leg.
“I got it.” You push yourself up, moving to the bed to retrieve one of the blankets there, carefully wrapping it around both of your torsos when you settle back onto his lap. Your legs stick out, but you don’t really care.
After a while you feel his heartbeat begin to pick up again and adjust yourself to look up at him. His eyes drift to you before he sighs. “Do you…still want me to talk?”
You nod.
“Alright then. I will talk. I do not think it is what you want to hear.”
You bite your lip and try to keep your breathing steady as he continues.
“Back in the med bay. No. Before that.” He shakes his head emphatically. “When we were assigned to two different groups…No…Scheiße, I…”
You run a shaky hand up and down his chest. “It’s okay. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
His fingers dig into you for a fraction of a second, so quick you think you might have imagined it before his entire body is deflating, his head settling back against the wall. “They ambushed us. You weren’t there but…they hit us on patrol, hit us and ran before we could counter. I did not even see who hit me, I just look up one moment and down the next and the snow is all red and…” His voice drops to barely a whisper “Das war meines.” He trails off completely, a finger tracing circles on your shoulder. “I've been wounded before. I've accepted death before. This time...before I...while I was…” he exhales another irritated sigh. “I was on the ground and…wie sag ich das…ich hab versucht etwas zu tun, mich zu bewegen aber alles was ich tun konnte...I was thinking of you.”
He freezes, turning his head away and dropping his hands from you. But instead of moving away, you kiss a patch of skin just outside the hood, watching the muscle under it jump. “Is that all you want to tell me?”
He shakes his head.
“Do you think you can keep going?”
His head turns back to you briefly before he tilts it up to stare at the ceiling. “When I was in the med bay. Well, I…it went like this. I wake up and you are there and I think, König this is it, now you are finally dead. And then I feel the pain and I see the nurse and you were moving away and I couldn't…du warst da und dann warst du fast nicht mehr da und ich konnte nicht atmen. Ich…” he shakes his head back and forth, back and forth. “Ich konnte nicht ohne dich. Ich…needed you to stay.” His head jerks down again, eyes boring into yours with all the intensity of a tornado, arms wrapping around you once again. “I need you to stay.”
You nod, holding him tight, the weight of the words unspoken tangling in your chest and constricting your tongue. Stay. With me. He won't ask for more than tonight, not when neither of you can even risk asking for a tomorrow. Stay with me. For as long as you have. A day, maybe. A month. Maybe you'll get out of this mess someday and get years.
Stay with me for a lifetime. Whatever lifetime we get.
You nod, whispering a promise into his skin. Always. Your fingers drift down along his leg, tracing just outside the stitches, your eyes following the line of gooseprickles that rise in their wake.
You feel more than you hear your name being whispered into your hair, and as you look up fingers wrap around your wrist, guiding it up over his hip, his ribs, his chest. Sliding around the edge of the hood, pushing it up, up, up. Until the fabric slides off. You gaze in awe, watching his jaw flex as his lips part to form a word whose sound hides in the back of his throat. Always. You look back into his eyes before surging forward, hugging him tight, tight enough to strangle, you think, but he’s already wrapping himself around you with equal fervor.
“You know,” you murmur, breath ruffling his hair, “if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”
He huffs a laugh, the air catching in his lungs with a choking sound. His grip tightens.
-
When you wake you find you’ve been moved to the bed, but his face is still buried in your neck, unmoving despite the soft light filtering in your window. You smile a little, watching the early-morning sky, perfectly clear and pale blue.
It matches his eyes.
---
German Translations
du bist wie ein Traum: You are like a dream
Ich kann nicht glauben, dass du wirklich hier bist: I can’t believe you are here
Du bist viel zu gut für mich: You are too good to me
Dein Lächeln und…: You smile and…
Ich weiß nicht wie ich dich loslassen soll aber du verdienst so viel mehr als: I don't know how I am supposed to let go of you (eventually) but you (clearly) deserve so much more than me
Niemals, niemals, nie: never again, never again, never
Scheiße: shit
Das war meines: it was mine
wie sag ich das: how do I say this
ich hab versucht etwas zu tun, mich zu bewegen aber alles was ich tun konnte: I tried doing something, moving, but all I could do
du warst da und dann warst du fast nicht mehr da und ich konnte nicht atmen. Ich…: you were there and then you nearly weren’t there and I could not breathe. I…
Ich konnte nicht ohne dich. Ich…: I couldn’t without you. I…
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I'm assuming this was already talked about/mentioned in your posts but I do kinda wonder how awful it would be for reader during holidays and general breaks from school (bully au). Like- They would either be COMPLETELY isolated since they can't technically go home since this ain't even their world and everyone hates them, or they would have to deal with their bullies every. Single. Day. Which is hilarious to me because I can see at least some of them staying even though they were supposed to go home and rest and enjoy their break from school, so prefect just asks "Why are you even here tormenting me bro?! Don't you have a family" and the bullies have to come up with excuses to save their egos
I sometimes do go in depth detail on where reader lives within twisted wonderland because I tend to stray near canon lore. Options are that they completely have ramshackle as their home or Crowley in the kindness of his heart buys a place for them within the island (it’s close to the school just in the woods hidden deep)
tw: yandere, bully!characters, mentions of bruises/blood and vomit, force feeding/throwing up, unhealthy relationships, stalking.
(College setting)- there are other students that are staying during breaks but let’s be real no one’s gonna help you
The only major holiday that has the NRC students leaving was winter break, spring and summer. Here’s my take on each. Not proof read btw!
Winter: Azul, Jade And Floyd
No surprise to canon, but their excuse to stay during break is nightmare fuel for you. You can’t run away because that only peruse Floyd and Jade to chase you down. Azul pretends to not see the abuse you’re going through. In fact he feels less occupied when the twins set their eyes on you. There is no best scenario because you should be used to Floyd coming into your room at random times.
Quote on quote, “best break ever” is exaggerated greatly whenever Floyd gets his hands on you. You’re wheezing like a dying fish as he asks you if you’re ok. Knowing it’ll piss you off but you’re on the verge of death so it pisses you off even more.
I think staying with Floyd is the better option but it REALLY depends, Jade gets a little quirky at night. Waking up on a table and strapped as he gives you shot after shit of who knows what into your system. Pretty unhinged as it’s in the dead of night and it’s freezing cold. More stoic when performing these things. Jade never gets the chance or time to do this to you so that’s off his bucket list.
Azul stuffs himself in his room all day. Only going out for a jog as he looks the other way as you’re being dragged off while clawing on the floor. It’s too early for that okz. But he’s gonna tire from your screaming and crying so he grudgingly let’s you stay in his room whenever the twins are out to hunt you down.
That’s only if you are being too much of a nuisance to him^^
Because you’re involved in the subject of his problems he gets more snappy with the twins when they try to barge into his room. Lecturing them and often times loudly making deals to lend you to them because you’re so much work. He doesn’t tho. Like a father who never wanted a dog, he tends to your needs with a sneer and turn. Does this mean you’re staying in his room the whole break? Yes. Can you try to leave? Yes. Will Azul call you ungrateful and manipulate you that the twins will bother you again. Yes.
Slumber party!!! Floyd’s idea btw. Victim of every losers downfall, getting slapped and punched whenever Floyd loses a board game. Hands nearly breaking because Jade is too cool to show anger so he takes it out on you as a joke. Azul winning said games.
Floyd WILL suffocate you in your sleep on purpose. Slumber parties with him are never a good idea because any chance to scare you he takes it. Going to the bathroom? What a coincidence he’s awake and on the side of the wall behind the door you’re leaving. Waking up? He’s staring deep into your soul just so you can cry and roll away.
Wanna talk about you staying in Azul’s room because he lets you sleep on his bed (wow omg luxury bed knocked out ZZZzzz) because he’s doing work on his desk. Often times you wake up to him sleeping on his desk. Give it a week in the break and he’s all over you. His arms in a crushing grip as he holds you in sleep, you feel like it’s forbidden to move because you’re scared he might squeeze harder than Floyd.
This only happened ONCE. Sleeps on the floor and makes dumb excuses like “humans have such odd body temperature it was like an instinct to cuddle something cold.” Or “I hold things a lot when I’m in my merform this is nothing personal.”
Spring: Ace, Epel, Ruggie
Ace and Epel straight up tell you they’re here to have a great spring break together. By that they mean messing with you. These assholes start off slow, egging your dorm, blasting loud music. Anything to get your fatigue up, that way you can start messing things up on accident when it was all purposely set.
The duo are relentlessly pursuing their harassment from day to night, until in a couple of days within the break do things stop. It’s terrifying, walking on eggshells at how they ignore you during walks, opening the door for you, heck even Epel left a basket of apples on your front door. It’s leaving you paranoid and they know it, with their innocent going smiles and tilted heads. You wish you had some form of power to get those two without getting 2v1.
Alright this is where Ruggie comes in the picture. He’s there not by choice, instead paid by Leona to watch over you since Ace has a big mouth about his plans with you.
Ruggie randomly shows up in your dorm. He’s not doing much except making sure you’re eating and not brutally beaten near death. But you can find him grudgingly cleaning the place out of boredom, catching him dusting off shelves after your success in escaping the two. He threatens you out of embarrassment to not think much of it…he just thinks you’re really dirty to leave in such an unkept place.
He does at time chase Ace and Epel off, they don’t seem to bother you much when you’re with him. So you took this to advantage to stick to him like candy. You’ve only had this type of protection with Jack, on the other hand was much more comfortable to hang around with besides the deadpan stares.
Your safe haven can only be kept for so long, once money is involved. Ruggie is counting the wad of cash by the side as the two nudge your head with their foot. Ace blames you for making the last three days of their break boring, you should’ve known better than to run off when things were getting good. Didn’t you know good pal Epel prepared some fine treats for you? (Don’t eat them).
It’s no use crying for help, Ruggie can only shrug his shoulders and tell the two not to kill you before walking away. Your last bits of hope destroyed as Epel smacks the back of your head a couple of times, saying you must be brain dead so they’ll help you out. You’re really starting to miss Jack, as apple slices are being shoved into your mouth, Ace repeatedly thrusting three fingers down your throat to making you vomit. You’re delirious when hung upside down from a tree, the two taking turns hitting you blindfolded with a bat, luckily it’s wooden but the pain still blows.
You’ll be ruffled up with a pat in the head as Ace blows smoke in your face, telling you that you did good. Epel is more enthusiastic after all that, pinching at your blood socked nose to stop the bleeding. The two are joyous and leave by throwing a couple of dollars your way. Just looking at it makes you sick as you sob on the floor, seeing Ruggies shoes.
Sobbing on the way home with Ruggie by your side, staring off into the distance whilst ignoring your loud wails. You know it annoys him but he doesn’t say anything until the door closes, he’s lazily patching up your open wounds and dabbing them with a clean cloth. Giving you medicine—if you refuse to take them he will force you. You can only conceal your sniffles by rubbing your eyes and blowing your nose with tissue. Ruggie has his back turned as he tells you to do better. If you keep it up you’ll die sooner or later at this rate. So take it as a lesson to build character.
You can’t help but agree, maybe it was the medicine taking place. But you gruffly settle down with him, he’s sitting besides you with a empty look on his face. You cant tell why he’s staring at your beaten body like some interesting figure but you preferred it like this. Dropping your head on his shoulder as you rest, because you know he’s gonna let it happen all over again.
Might as well take his advice.
Summer: Sebek, Silver, Malleus, Lilia
This was all Malleus. His idea 100%. He’d rather not spend his break staying in his enclosure with running maids and fearing fae. Instead he’d prefer is the one fearing was coming from you. And since Malleus had decided to spend his break by bothering you Silver and Sebek have no choice but to come along.
Sebek is absolutely furious once he finds out the reason Malleus wanted to stay in campus was to see you. You! Out of everyone!!! There are times where Malleus must leave campus to attend his princely duties, leaving Sebek having the opportunity to get his hands on you. By that he’s choking the shit outta you until you’re blue. He doesn’t wanna be here with YOU, now he’s stuck babysitting you. Thankfully Silver is there to prevent Sebek from successfully killing you.
You cling onto Silver like he’s your last hope. He can only do so much when Sebek is frothing at the mouth because he has the “audacity” to step in the punishments that are so rightfully placed on you. Like come on man what would Malleus think?
Malleus is into it. Tells Silver that if you ever step out of line it’s only right for him to put you back in place, physically. Silver can only stand back with a frown, not too much to displease Malleus.
Lilia comes in later, he’s wondering where his sons went. He comes at a weird timing, you’re being examined because Malleus is interested in all the marks you’ve received. It’s amazing how you’re still alive, with a kind of your own as well. Lilia won’t do much rather than spectate Malleus’s adventures with you, rather than indulging in his desires he stands by the side to make sure Malleus nor Sebek won’t go too far. They may not listen to Silver but they certainly will to him.
If you want to be left COMPLETELY alone it can only be at night with curtains over your windows. Forbid the many times you’ve shit your pants in the middle of the night to see Malleus looming over your window. Be it sleeping or walking to the kitchen he’s dead staring. For some good reason he doesn’t throw much of a fit when you use the curtains to hide from his prying eyes.
You might think Lilia is off the hook of finally leaving you alone then you’re dead wrong! Standing by the side, yea more like giving more advice to Malleus and Sebek on how to properly punish you. Back in his days punishments were something else, since you’re human they gotta go on the low. So if Lilia felt like it he can just tell them some unique and grotesque ways to get you drooling and screaming like some pig.
Silver will be there after they’re done, being told to get you cleaned up and ready for the next trick. You really don’t wanna know, but you’re silent during your healing process, he feels bad yet doesn’t voice his opinions on it.
Oh and they almost carved a sick tattoo of dragon wings on your back but Sebek suggested that he use his sword to do it and you passed out from the thought. Not your first rodeo but you know damn well none of them will be putting you on meds during the whole thing.
#yandere twst#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere twisted wonderland#azul ashengrotto x reader#jade leech x reader#floyd leech x reader#ace trapolla x reader#epel felmeir x reader#ruggie bucchi x reader#malleus draconia x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#twst silver x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader#bully!au
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༊*·˚West Coast
✧.* Pair - Miguel O'hara x Fem! Reader
✧.* Tags & Warnings - Smut, a little bit of fluff, swearing, kissing, teasing, fingering, sexual choking, slight spanking, degrading and praising, unprotected sex, Y/N's on the cream team, private sex (you'll see what I mean), crying, and creampie. (let me know if I missed anything)
✧.* Summary - Every spider-person in the building assumed that Miguel had left the building to complete a mission since they were unable find him, but little did they know he was too busy secretly fucking his favorite girl behind closed doors...
✧.* Extra - Reader is hinted to be from the West Coast of the U.S. Reader is hinted to being Latina. Reader is hinted of being a variant of Thena from the eternals. Miguel is a tiny bit out of character (and by that I mean a little bit nicer).
✧.* Word Count - 2,256
Miguel never really saw or thought of himself getting close to anyone. It's canon that every time a spider person gets close to someone, they get put them in an immense amount of danger. That's the sole main reason why he never wanted to get close to someone. Until he met her.
"You know Miguel, you're so negative. Why can't you have fun for once?" Y/N asked.
Miguel just ignored her snarky comment. He always said he didn't have time for stupidities and that he had too much work, he couldn't be distracted. There are some moments that people would think he was absent from the building because he's always locked in doing his multiverse work. and this was one of the times people thought he was away.
"Hey, come on. You need a break. You look like you haven't slept in day-"
"That's because I haven't." Miguel interrupted Y/N in an angry annoyed tone.
Y/N just looked at him and furrowed her eyebrows, " Ay, pero no te 'nojes. I'm just suggesting what's best for your health."
"I don't have time for your dumbass comments, Y/N. If you don't have anything useful to say, then don't say anything at all." Miguel replied and continued looking at different scenes from different dimensions.
Y/N just stayed quiet and sulked in the chair she had set next to Miguel. She hated when Miguel would get mad at her, especially if it was her fault. But oh how she loved how hot he looked. Her stomach would twist in guilt at him yelling at her, but she couldn't deny that she would get a little aroused.
A few minutes went by of pure silence. The only noise being made was the noises Miguel's devices were making. Y/N looked up at Miguel and smiled.
"You know, down on the West Coast, we have this saying... How did it go again? Shit, era como 'Late afternoon on the West Coast ends with the sky doing all its brilliant stuff.' " Y/N said. She missed her home in the West Coast. She missed the beautiful beaches and sunny skies. Miguel just looked at her and smirked just a tiny bit. He had forgotten she was pulled from the West Coast. He pulled a chair behind him and sat down to face her. "The West Coast, huh? Escuché que es muy bonito ahí."
Y/N's eyes went wide at him saying that. "Nunca has ido al West Coast?!"
Miguel only shook his head.
The two sat and talked to each other for quite a while to the point where they ignored anyone who tried calling them form their little watch devices. It was strange. Having a full civil conversation with Miguel without him insulting her or getting mad at her was very peaceful to say the least.
The tall male couldn’t deny that he enjoyed his conversation with Y/N. He always admired how courageous she was on her earth. For the love of Aphrodite, her hero name is inspired by the goddess of war and wisdom herself, Athena!
After the two stopped talking, they just looked at each other. Y/N’s eyes gleaming, attracting Miguel.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He whispered.
"Like what?" she innocently said to him.
Miguel stood up from his chair and got closer to the girl. He grabbed her jaw and leaned in, analyzing her face. She was a pretty girl, no doubt. He saw how some of the spider-people would stutter when speaking to her or how they would find anything to compliment her, whether it was her pretty eyes, funny jokes, or elegant fighting skills. They would do anything to make her smile.
That's what pissed O'hara off the most. He always told himself that he was just angry at other bullshit that was from a mission, but the little voice in the back of his head would be telling him he was angry because he was seeing other people trying to get to Y/N. That little voice was always the loudest. Miguel got tired of just staring at her. Their faces were so close to each other. Both O'hara and L/N closed the gap between them and started kissing like crazy.
It was sloppy.
The kiss was sloppy. They didn't have time for all of that slow lovey dovey bullshit. They needed to taste each other. Y/N stood up from her seat to fully experience the messy kiss. Lips moving aggressively. Tongues being shoved down each other's throats. Hands were wandering on each other's bodies.
Miguel pulled away from the kiss and made Y/N sit on a counter so he could stand in the middle of her legs. He started leaving small pecks on her lips all the way down to her collarbone. He loved hearing her whimper. It turned him on even more.
He started stripping her out of her clothes. He needed to see her in all of her glory. Y/N got a little embarrassed at the fact she was fully naked and he was still in his spider-suit, so she rested both of her hands on her private area to cover up a little bit. But Miguel didn't take that reaction very lightly.
He forcefully took her hands away from in between her thighs and slightly bared his fangs. "Don't try to cover now, slut." Miguel snarled.
"It's not fair that im all naked and you're not..." she said in response.
Miguel smirked and stepped back. He started to take off the top half of his suit. His buff figure was insane to Y/N. It's like he was molded by the gods. Miguel went back to kissing her collarbone, but this time his hands started wandering down to her most sensitive area. His fingers immediately started rubbing up and down on her wet pussy, making Y/N whimper.
Miguel looked at Y/N's face and gave her a smug smile. He needed to see more. He immediately shoved two fingers inside her wet hole and started fingering her, loving the sound of her arousal and moans.
"Te miras muy bonita, moaning for me." he whispered in her ear.
Miguel made Y/N fall into tiny pieces whenever she's with or around him. She couldn't help it. His broad strong shoulders and muscular back made her melt like ice cream and his muscles made her face warm like the morning sun.
Y/N's erotic moans made Miguel solid hard. The more she moaned, the faster his fingers kept going. She kept getting louder and louder. She couldn't take it, she needed him inside her, pounding into her like a crazy man and Miguel knew she needed him. He just loved to tease her.
"Miguel, please. I need you."
"What do you need exactly, princesa.
"I need you to fuck me~ Use me however you want~ I'm all yours..." She moaned out.
Miguel pulled his fingers out and stuck them in Y/N's mouth, making her taste her own arousal. He groaned at the sight of her sucking on his fingers, looking at him with those precious eyes that were begging him to fuck her.
He pulled away from her mouth and started taking off the bottom half of the spider suit, leaving him in his underwear. Letting his pretty girl in front of him drool at the sight of his bulge. He pulled out his hard cock and started stroking it a little bit in front of her, teasing her a bit.
"Get off the fucking table and turn around." He demanded, to which Y/N willingly complied to.
He forcefully grabbed the back of her neck and made her bend over, making her whimper at his strength. He lined the tip of his dick on her pussy and slightly pushed in. He knew what he was doing. Don't get him wrong, he wanted the same she wanted. He wanted nothing more to just pound into her until she forgot her own name, but he loved to see her all worked up.
Y/N started backing up a tiny bit so she could feel more of him inside her, but Miguel didn't like that. He slapped her ass cheek to make her stop, making Y/N moan at the impact. "You can't wait to get fuck, huh chiquita? You want me to fuck you? Yeah?" he teased.
Y/N whimpered and kept telling him yes. "Please fuck me, I need you inside m-" she was cut off by her own pornographic moan since Miguel shoved himself inside with no warning. He groaned at the feeling of her walls hugging his dick so tightly.
He started pounding into her, making her moan loudly. He suddenly remembered that people in the building thought he was absent from the building, and if they hear Y/N's sweet moans from inside his working headroom, they will know something is up and barge in. Miguel leaned forward and grabbed Y/N's throat and pulled her upper body towards his chest.
"Shut the fuck up. I don't need anyone barging in on me fucking you. Unless you want that to happen since you're moaning so fucking loud like a whore." he groaned in her ear. Y/N could only moan in response. The pleasure she was feeling in her body was too good.
"No? You don't want to listen?" Miguel started pounding into her even harder, making her scream in pleasure. The pleasure was starting to become too much for Y/N to the point where she started feeling tears build up in her eyes. Her vision started to become blurred so she closed her eyes and felt the tears fall from her eyes.
"You're such a good girl, baby. Taking me so well like a fucking slut." He praised. He started to leave little kisses on her cheek and had his unoccupied hand travel down to rub her puffy clit. He looked down to watch his cock disappear and reappear with every thrust he made and with every thrust he made, he realized Y/N was creaming more and more. To the point that it started reaching his fingers that were rubbing her clit.
The sight of Y/N creaming made O'hara's thrusts more aggressive. His groans started to become louder and louder. Everything was going smoothly and full of pleasure until Y/N's little watch started ringing, indicating someone was calling her. Miguel's thrusting didn't slow down though, he didn't care.
"Answer it." he demanded.
Y/N's eyes widened, "B-But-"
"But nothing, answer it or I'll stop fucking you."
Y/N's shaky hand pressed the button to answer the call and answered it like how anyone would answer a regular phone call. "Y/N, it's me." A voice called out.
Ben.
Ben fucking Reilly.
The Spiderman that would take his flirting with Y/N a little too far for Miguel. "H-hey Ben! Is there a r- oh fuck - reason why you're calling?" Y/N tried answering without sounding suspicious.
Ben let out a dramatic sigh, "Yes, there is actually." He dramatically said. Ben was a very dramatic Spiderman. Some spider-people would call him a wannabe anime character from how much he exaggerates things.
"Well what is-" "I just wanted to-" they both spoke at the same time. Ben let out another dramatic sigh, "Y/N, please. Don't interrupt."
Y/N brought her hand up to her mouth to try and hide the moans she wanted to let out so badly. "Y/N, I wanted to call you and ask you out on a very amazing date. I think you are the woman of my dreams and I need a strong woman like you by my side." Ben dramatcially said.
That was the final straw for Miguel.
Miguel gripped both of his hands on Y/N plump ass and started pounding into her even harder, making Y/N's tears come down even more. Y/N's grip on her mouth tightened even more, in fear of letting out a moan and ruining everything.
"Is that a yes or a no, princesa," Miguel whispered as he smirked. He forcefully took her hand off her mouth for her to answer. Y/N didn't want Ben to know Miguel was drilling into her. That would be so embarrassing.
"I-I'm sorry, Ben! I can't t-talk right now" she tried her best to say. Ben let out another dramatic sigh, "But why, Y/N?"
"Because she's busy," Miguel said out loud. He pressed the hang-up button and continued his vicious pounding. Y/N began to feel a strange but pleasurable feeling in her abdomen and so did Miguel.
"Fuck, Miguel~ I'm gonna cum~"
"Yeah? You wanna cum, baby?~" Miguel teased. Y/N moaned in response and didn't have time for his teasing. She let out her final erotic moan and came. She came all over his cock. Miguel came shortly after and filled Y/N up with his load.
Miguel groaned and let his upper body softly lay on Y/N's back, giving it little kisses. They stayed like that until their gasps started to slow down. Miguel pulled out and watched as his cum started coming out of her pussy. Running down her thigh and some even dropping to the floor. He smiled at his accomplishment.
"Okay, are you two done now!? I have some very important data I need to run and I've been waiting patiently!" a voice said, making Miguel and Y/N snap their necks to the right to see the iconic female hologram.
"Lyla, you scared the shit out of us, a-and why are you turned around?" Miguel asked confusingly.
"Because I don't want to see both of you naked! Hurry up and get dressed I need your monitor to run some data!"
˖◛. *. ⋆ Vanilla Speaks
Can you tell that i like lana del rey
also me fighting the urge to add Salvadoran slang because I'm salvadoran...
+ Ay, pero no te 'nojes - Oh but don't get mad
+ era como - It was like
+ Escuché que es muy bonito ahí - I heard it's very beautiful over there
+ Nunca has ido al - You've never been to
+ Te miras muy bonita -You look very beautiful
+ princesa - Princess
+ chiquita - little thing/ little one
#Miguel o'hara x reader#Miguel o'hara imagine#Marvel#across the spiderverse#spiderman 2099#spiderman smut#Latina! reader
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Eternal Consolation Prize
@elriel-month | Powers & Possibilities
I've had this idea in my head since reading HOFAS (iykyk), and I'm so excited to share this one with you. Feysand are villains in this one, don't at me. It just made an interesting twist.
My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics
My ao3 account: tswaney17
Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕
Trigger warnings: Some angst and canon-compliant violence
Word Count: 2,196
This fic will be posted on AO3 only. Read the beginning below or click here to head to AO3.
Elain had thought she had known true fear. Thought she’d faced the worst of it when she’d been stolen in the night and forced into the Cauldron against her will, ultimately fucking up her entire life when she was turned.
She thought she felt it again when the Cauldron had lured her into the heart of Hybern’s camp, believing she’d never see her family again. That those monsters would do the worst to her.
Then she thought she felt it when she saw Nesta and Cassian before the King, seconds from death, only to be saved by her stepping out of a shadow and using Truthteller to deliver the killing blow to the now-dead King.
In the short lifespan of her Fae life, Elain had faced death and fear like a second skin and walked away. Somehow, she walked away.
But not this. There would be no walking away from the invisible shackles her court, her family, had thrust upon her. Words were being spoken, but she couldn’t hear them.
She was suffocating within her mind.
Read More
~~~~~
Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕
While I have moved most of my fics to AO3 only, I am still going to utilize a tag list here on Tumblr. This as a permanent solution and may change in the future. For notifications, you can follow and subscribe to my fanfic account where I will be reblogging updates and snippets only. You can also find me on ao3. If you would like to be added to my tag list, please leave a comment on this post.
My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics
My ao3 account: tswaney17
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Some tags seem to not want to link, which could be related to your visibility settings. Sorry about that!
#eternal consolation prize#elriel#elrielmonth2024#elrielmonth#elrielmonth24#elriel month 2024#elriel month#elriel fic#elriel fanfic#elriel fanfiction#elain#elain archeron#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#elain x azriel#elain x az#azriel x elain#elain and azriel#azriel and elain#tswaney17#tswaney17fics#tay writes#my writing#fanfic#fanfiction#sarah j maas#acotar#acomaf#acowar#acofas
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sweetening the deal {by the grit of sandpaper}
Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader
Summary: Tommy Miller asked you to take his place beside his brother on patrols, and you're determined to not let him down even if you're far too awkward around the older Miller you don't know very well.
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: canon typical language, pining, requited unrequited feelings, joel is so soft in this, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, lots of feelings, joel miller's body needs its own warning, tooth rotting fluff, mostly joel pov, SET BEFORE THE FIRST CHAPTER
A/N: dear @copperhalfcent submitted a drabble emoji as part of the final chapter celebration and of course i got carried away, what a bummer, huh? here's this for y'all to enjoy until the final chapter comes out! ♡♡
ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi
A rather loud crack of cartilage startles you, your gun aimed toward the direction Joel approached you and the horses from. He had dismounted to check out the small wisps of smoke with an urgent but quiet request to remain behind.
“Just me ‘n my bad back.”
“Should soak in some hot water when we get back.” You say as you lower the barrel, turning your attention to the tittering horses. You miss the way his eyes darken at the image of you covered in nothing but scented bubbles flashing in his mind. It was the middle of summer, your shirts having given way to tank tops that gave the man more than a glimpse of the swell of your breasts glistening with sweat. His hands twitch at his sides, his own gun secure over his back, pistol nestled in the holster at his hip.
“Afraid that won’t do much at my age.”
“You’re not that much older than me.”
“I’m far older than you, you can’t be more’n forty.”
“Tommy’s got a few on me, but he said you’re not much older than him?”
“I’m fifty-seven, he’s about fifty. Even older with a birthday comin’ up soon. More’n a few years, actually.”
“Oh. Well, I always did go for older guys.” And fuck if his cock didn’t twitch and his stomach didn’t swoop at the implications of your words. You must’ve realized they were uttered aloud as you spin back to face him with a twisted face, heat tinging the tops of your ears and your chest rising with a deep exhale of an apology he didn’t think was necessary.
“Shit. That was wildly inappropriate, Joel. I’m so sorry.” The worry in the lines of your face, the few wrinkles he could see around your eyes made his stomach swoop again. You were so god damn expressive once he got you talking, something relatively new as you both got used to being around each other, reading each other’s moods.
“No need to apologize, we all got our preferences.”
“Still, you-you’re…I’m just gonna shut up now.” He could hear the clack of your teeth as you snap your jaw shut, tense at what he figured you thought was too forward of a conversation with someone who you interacted with only a few times a week. But he frowned, not liking the way you interpreted their easy-going patrols that had begun to develop into something he would call genuine friendship.
“Nah, is okay. Filters are for people who actually say inappropriate stuff. You’re fine, Olive.” He watches the way you begin to lead the horses down an overgrown path, falling into step behind you. Something that paired with the smoldering fire he had found keeping his eyes and ears open to those responsible. “When’s your birthday?”
“I’m a winter baby, which is ironic because I don’t like the cold.” His eyes trace the same line a drop of sweat as it makes its way from your braided hair and down the back of your neck. The increasing heat not seeming to bother you as it did so many others who had the relieve of central air in Jackson.
“Not a fan either, being from Texas we didn’t get much of it.” Joel realizes he hadn’t told anyone of his past other than Ellie in…god knows how long. You were smart though, no doubt picking up on the twang his voice carried, the particulars of it telling of his past just as much as his answers to each new question. But he was willing to share it with you, something about you softening the edges of the walls he had built up around himself. Of wanting to find out what you had in common and what you didn’t.
“Do you…like sweets?”
“Huh?” Even if he were privy to the innerworkings of your mind, the question would still have caught him off guard, doubly so since he wasn’t.
“Uh…sweets? Like cake or tart or even muffins?” Nervous, he realized, you were nervous around him sometimes. But it was so unlike the rest of the town, nervous as in worried about accidentally offending him or saying the wrong thing, not nervous he was going to throttle them. He had done his best to work alongside Tommy, to appease Maria and the council, to show them that he was committed to turning a new leave and abiding by their way of life to ensure he and Ellie had a place to call home. It had been a rough couple of months, but you sure as hell sweetened the deal.
“Wouldn’t say no to ‘em, but never went out of my way to get any for myself.” The question of who he would go out of his way to get them fore glints in your eye, but you purse your lips and refrain from another question. He rather likes betting against himself to see if you would ask the many he sees cross your face. Your brow was twitch just before you did, if you allowed yourself. Your lips would twitch if you didn’t, like you were holding back the words springing up in your mind.
After a rather awkward first couple of patrols, he had realized the set of his face may have come across as uninterested. But you were so sweet, so quiet and he found himself wondering about you beyond the bubble of time you shared while out on patrol. Tommy had barked a laugh when he asked how long you had been here, the glimmer of teasing only a younger sibling was capable of lighting up his face. Longer than him, he had said. Which meant you had to have been a part of it for a while.
Time passes and his birthday is suddenly something Tommy makes a point to stop by the house with a classic yellow cake covered in chocolate frosting.
Figured you for a simple man, so a simple cake seemed the safest bet. Hope the day is good to you, Olive.
The note attached to it was inscribed with beautiful, looping writing. Tommy had remarked that you were the go to baker for cakes, even if the requests were made at the mess hall where he learned you were one of the cooks behind the scenes. Each new piece of you he learned making him want to know more. With the thought to thank you next patrol, he accepted the cake and his brother’s company.
Ellie had made him breakfast before school, but he had remained inside all day, busing himself with cleaning and carving to ignore the memories the date always brought up. But that evening, he smiled over a small dinner with his brother as they cut into the cake almost immediately after. Glad he had opened up to you and to find that you thought of him as much as he was beginning to think of you. He would return the favor by bringing coffee, something he was learning was a commodity few had a steady supply of. A branch of his own to let you know he didn’t think you were being too forward in any capacity.
Even more so when he noticed a third slice stolen from the platter it was delivered on the next morning, a card beside it from Ellie wishing him another year for her to tease him.
taglist: @joelsgreys @morning-star-joy @sawymredfox @pascalpvnk @littlemisspascal @merz-8 @orcasoul @sabmat @dreamingofleon
@keylimebeag @picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @joeloverture @joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @corazondebeskar @honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @hiroikegawa @dugiioh @persephone-girl @furiousmushroom @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc @part2joelmiller @formulafun @noisynightmarepoetry @sofiparallel @blueberrylemon7 @maryrhodalouandted @joelsdagger @fluff-lover
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@ohhellotherebumblebee @koshkaj-blog @r4vens-cl4ws @picketniffler @joeldjarin
#dev writes#fic: by the grit of sandpaper#tlou#tlou fanfic#the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fic#joel miller series#jackson joel miller#soft joel miller#artisan joel miller#carpenter joel miller#woodworker joel miller#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal fanfiction
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I keep seeing posts about how us Buddie fans are just being delusional. How we need to stop reading so much into what’s being said during interviews and oh also how it’s offensive to the current ship.
First of all let’s be clear here Buck is NOT in a relationship with Tommy. I feel like this is something you Buck/Tommy shippers are failing to grasp because I constantly see posts about how Buck shouldn’t cheat on Tommy. They have kissed once and been on 2ish dates they are not a couple yet. Being exclusive requires a conversation or at least some acknowledgment by the characters and we haven’t had that yet. They still barely know each other.
Second we have always theorized about Buddie when the characters were with other love interests. We did when Buck was with Taylor. We did when Eddie was with Ana. Is it somehow different now because Tommy is a guy? Is it different now because Buck and Tommy aren't straight? Or is it just because Buck is dating the guy you want him to be with now? I don't know there's just something very strange about how some of you are responding to Buddie/Buddie shippers with all of this.
What's even crazier to me is that so many of you who are all about Buck/Tommy now used to be Buddie shippers or still say you'll be happy if Buddie happens down the line. Yet you're still attacking Buddie and our meta and speculation because it threatens the current ship you want at the moment.
No one is saying that every one of our theories and speculation is 100% correct but we have always speculated on the show and the interviews this isn't something new people are doing. I feel like the response some you have is that we're somehow seeing/hearing only what we want to and or twisting the words of the actors/etc to fit some kind narrative we have about Buddie.
It's not like we're seeing interviews where Oliver, Lou, Tim, etc are saying Buck and Tommy are going to be together 4eva and then immediately twisting that to mean oh they must be lying Buddie is so obviously happening tomorrow. We're inferring what we think might happen based on spoilers and what the actors (and Tim) have said combined with what we hope might happen. We know not everything we think will happen will. We had a ton of theories on 7x04 and 7x05 (many of which turned out to not be true) and despite what some of you think we didn't all collectively lose our shit because they didn't come true.
You can dislike Buddie and us all you want and can disagree with us or our theories all you want but these posts talking about how we're just seeing what we want and setting ourselves up for disappointment come across as hypocritical (considering most of you used to be Buddie shippers) and patronizing. We don't need or want you to save us from our fandom experience. If we're disappointed by the storyline that's our business but right now we're having fun with where things in the show are and are going.
---
I also really don't like how some of you are trashing Buddie to prop up Buck/Tommy. Basically saying that because Buck and Eddie's feelings haven't been verbally confirmed on screen (like in an I'm in love with you kind of way) that we're making it into something it's not and it's not fair to Buck/Tommy because they are canon.
Buddie isn't in a romantic relationship at the moment but they have loved and supported one another and always been been more than friends since basically the beginning. Even Oliver just confirmed that Buck was attracted to Eddie from the first scene. And no attraction alone doesn't equal love but if you can look at the six seasons of history shared by these two characters and only see two bros being the bestest friends you really need to take some media literacy.
I feel like some of you don't understand that not every part of a fictional story is spelled out super literally nor should it be. We know how deep Buck and Eddie's love goes because we can infer that based on their scenes. On all the ways they are there for one another, on how they treat each other, on how their relationship differs from the other friendships on the show. On all the things they say and don't say to one another. A big reason we want to see them in a canon romantic relationship is because of how clear the show has already made it that these two men love each other.
As for Tommy even though I'm not a multishipper I get Tommy's significance in the storyline. I'm also more thankful than I can put into words that Oliver and the show have decided to do Buck's bi awakening storyline epecially considering I'm bi myself. Buck being bi and his journey is incredibly important all on it's own but Buddie being canon is equally as important not because we need to see these guys together but because of what they represent. We have never had a slow burn same sex love story like this and the way it would change media forever if Buddie were to be canon cannot be understated.
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I didn't expect a post about a dating sim x click & point adventure game with The Beasts to be this popular but. . .
*random gestures*
So here you go, some thoughts & features that could be added to this weird fangame I conjured up!
(tw: long)
~General~
The world that the player teleported into heavily mirrors the land of beast yeast, complete with each of the landmarks which the beasts resign in. One exception however is at the center of this mysterious land is a forest of silver trees, which surround a strange alter of six stone standing pads, five little stones around a much larger stone in the middle (wonder what that's about?)
Somewhere amidst the silver woods is a mysterious grove, a grove filled with lilies. If adventurous enough, the player can explore the grove, but be warned, for not only do the scent of lilies cause drowsiness and the possibility of passing out, but lilies aren't the only thing that the land houses. The grove is peerless maze, so the player must enter with caution
The story length will be similar to how Obey Me is set up (divided into different chapters) with the first three to four chapters introducing the Beasts
There's no "canonical" choice of who'll you'll end up with, that's entirely up to the player. Another choice the player will have is whether the relationships can be platonic or romantic
Although many MCs are mostly left blank slates, I want the player in the sort of grey area between having an actual personality but leaving details vague enough to leave people guessing. Think the MC from "Obey Me" crossed with Yuu from "Twisted Wonderland" And you know many MCs are often nice and kind-hearted, well sorta throw that out the window bc we're doing something special(snarky, sarcastic, brutality honest, and filled with trust issues)
There's only snippets of what the player physically looks like(trust me, this'll be important later)
It's also important that the player has zero memory of entering the world they were basically isekaed into, something which the beasts learn one way or another. . .
The player will receive several petnames from the beasts, ranging from simple ones like "dear" or "sweetheart," to petnames relating to mice and other rodents(ie: "Little Mouse," "Pika," even "Pipsqueak")
In the game, the day-night cycle plays a big role in the gameplay. You'll be allowed to roam and explore as much as you want, but at night, you're given the choice of whether you should go to bed or keep exploring. If the player chooses to continue exploring, they'll be met with an energy meter, which increases when you sleep and decreases when you don't. With a full bar, the player can explore a total of five times, and once that meter runs out, they get too exhausted and fall asleep
Now would be a good time to mention the player's different bedrooms. They rotate based on the location, but they're meant to be a sort of safe space for the player, it's also the area where they pick up an important item: A journal
The journal functions very similarly to a scribble board and an actual notebook but serves one purpose, to allow the player to take notes on certain puzzles. Different puzzles are scattered across the landmarks, some are extremely difficult and require one to jot notes
I also like to think the player would receive a variety of tools during their journey and will each be essential. Which would lead the player to carry a bag to hold said items
For the purpose of the story, the player is able to respawn if they die. Remember the alter in the silver tree forest, they wake up there like nothing happened, although they do still retain the memories of said death
The player will engage in several minigames, the most common of them being a cooking style game where you prepare meals and ones where your using certain tools. Whilst the click & point portion consists of the player exploring the different areas & interacting with their surroundings
As a bonus, the player is gifted different outfits from the beasts, each one corresponding to the beast, their interests, and their theme
~Shadow Milk~
In the many eyes of Shadow Milk, the player is the only cookie he's seen in a while, so it's obvious he'd want them to be his audience, if you ever so chose to be. They get the option of asking more & trying to convince him on letting them have a turn in performing, which he'll have different reactions to
*You're reading the scripts of one of Shadow Milk's plays, in awe at the material. You compliment his work, making him all the more flattered*
"Oh I love acting! Your script is amazing, could I try acting some things out?"
*Hearing the question, Shadow Milk snatches the script from your hands. He almost snaps at you*
"What? No, of course not!"
"I'm sorry my dear, I adore your praise but. . . we've already established who the audience is! It's the key tool of any actor's career, and without that, we'd just be two actors with no one to entertain. . ."
"Besides, I think you'd have trouble trying to impress such a seasoned performer like myself~"
Despite his condescending comments, he slowly begins to let you act out small skits as their relationship with him becomes stronger, and he begins to cave
Shadow Milk has several references to acting, the stage, and plays, it would be a sin to not give this man a rhythm game. Similar to already existing rhythm games like "Rhythm Heaven" or the rhythm game portion in "Obey Me"
Every task, no matter how minimal or simple, becomes way more difficult with Shadow Milk. If you're just as much as a theater kid as he is, his need for literally everything to be a grand, exaggerated, obnoxious spectacle, especially around the player, is strong. Half the time, things don't go his way & he winds up making a mess, messes which the player is forced to clean up
Also, most everything he does requires a quick "costume change" thems the rules. He's cooking you breakfast? He's wearing a bright pink apron with frills and a heart-shaped pocket. You get hurt and scrape your knee? Here comes Dr. Shadow Milk in his doctor's uniform and stethoscope. The two of you are getting ready for bed? You'll be seeing him in striped pajamas, an extremely long nightrobe, fuzzy slippers and a sleep mask, including hair curlers
There will absolutely be no sneaking out on his domain, not on his watch! Shadow Milk, with his abilities, is a living security system, and reacts heavily to sound. So one snap of a twig or step on some creaking floorboards and it's over!
"*Ahem!*"
*A freakishly familiar voice is heard from behind you. Breaking into a sweat, you slowly turn around, the smallest part of you wished it wasn't who you thought it was. . . But as luck would have it, you didn't know any other crazy entertainers. . . Sure enough, it was exactly who'd you expected to see, Shadow Milk stood in front of you, arms crossed and everything*
"Just where do you think you're going?"
*You try playing it cool, although sweating a bit*
"Oh hey Shadow. . . I was just about to head out and-"
"Head out? At this time?!"
"I-I'm not gonna be gone for too long! I'll come right back after promise- *ah!*"
*Shadow Milk had already scooped you up, carrying you bridal style*
"That's quite enough! I can't have my only audience member getting drowsy during one of my shows, now can I?~"
*You were embarrassed beyond belief, even more once he started walking you to your room, and abruptly boops you on the nose*
"It's off to bed with you little mousey!~"
". . . ok(;w;). . ."
He takes much pride & joy in inconveniencing the player, purely for his own entertainment. What makes it worse is that he'll always find some sort of excuse, saying how it's "to punish them" and "to teach them how to do it right," just some of the lies they have to deal with
And that's not all, you think he started there? nope! He started lying to the player the second the two of them met. Seeing the player scared and alone in his domain, he didn't miss an opportunity to mess with the player's head. Fortunately, this does change as you begin to get closer with him, he starts being more open with the player
The outfit Shadow Milk gives the player is, although the tackiest thing on earthbread(if the player decides that it is), the most practical of the outfits they'll receive. It has a sort of German fairytale vibe to it, covered head to toe in ruffles, lace, bells, overly detailed designs, and of course, colored blue. It looks like, feels like, and is a costume, but despite its cheesy appearance, it's easy to run & move in
Out of all the beasts, Shadow Milk is the one who cares the most for the player's physical well-being. He's always making sure the player's eating enough, getting sleep, and most importantly, is happily entertained. It's been far too long since he was able to put on his plays, and he's gonna make sure they have the ability to sit through them
All and all, Shadow Milk is a well-meaning, all be it annoying, roommate
~Eternal Sugar~
She was always keen on learning most of the trickster's secrets, so finding out about the player, she became both upset yet understanding. Shadow Milk was the Cookie of Deceit after all
Regardless, Eternal Sugar found it quite unfair of him to keep them all to himself, and took it upon herself to steal the player away, via using one of her clouds
*While wandering by yourself within Shadow Milk's domain, you peer up at the unearthly, but normally blue sky, to see what seemed to be clouds suspiciously hovering over you*
Bewildered and curious, the player has the decision of either ignoring it or checking it out, but each will end in the clouds scooping up the player and taking them, all the way to Eternal Sugar Cookie
First meeting the player, she's admittingly unimpressed with what she sees, to think something so important to them would be reduced to such a simple creature. . ? But that mindset quickly changes as she discovers how adorable the player is, and just how naive they are. . .
She views the player as some sort of pet, spoiling them with all the goodies they can ever want, to a point where its almost overwhelming
*On a table, a large platter of sweets is set in front of you; you're almost tooken back by the sheer size of the dish, it was almost half the size of the table! Just sitting next to you was Eternal Sugar, smiling almost amusingly at your reaction*
"U-Uh. . . Is this all for me. . ?"
*She giggled*
"Of course it is dear! What sort of guest would you be if you didn't receive such delicacies?"
*Eternal Sugar picks up a sweet from the platter and holds it close to your mouth*
"Now, open wide~"
Unlike the other beasts, Eternal Sugar has the habit of babying the player, so like Shadow Milk, every simple task becomes way more difficult with her around. She'll make sure they won't be able to lift a finger!
Her associative minigame fits her sort of style, a memory game using cards, similar to the many games you can find on those "Kid-friendly Newgrounds" websites
Another thing worth noting is her clingy nature. Everywhere the player goes, Eternal Sugar has to follow, which does make things more difficult and affects progress. The prime definition of a space invader
It gets even worse during the night cycle, where she often insists on sleeping in the same bed as the player. Despite this, night is the only time the player will be able to get anything done. Just know that when they got back to bed and woke up the next morning, they'll have a sweet surprise waiting for them
*Morning light shines onto your face as it creeps into the rest of the room. You groan, awoken by your natural alarm clock, and begin to yawn & stretch, a part of you wished you slept in a bit longer. But as you try to get out of bed, you feel a weight on your right hand, better yet, you feel an entire section of the bed being weighed down by some unknown force. Turning around, you quickly discover why*
"E-Eternal Sugar Cookie! What are you-?!"
*There, covering a good half of the bed, Eternal Sugar Cookie was peacefully snoozing, clutching your hand. In your failed attempts at yelling at her & pulling your hand away were left to no avail, she had no intent on moving, nor letting go, making you all the more flustered*
"Ms. Eternal Sugar Cookie, please!- Let me go! I need-"
*She merely lifted one eye, only half awake and ready to sleep the rest of the day away*
"Awh~ but little mouse, it's so early!~ Can't you stay just a bit longer?~"
*She smiles at your flustered expression*
"But I have stuff to do! Please, you have to let me- *ah!-* h-hey!"
*Too busy trying to escape, you failed to notice her grip getting tighter, pulling you back down your now shared bed*
"Sleep a little more with me, won't you? There's no rush~"
"O-ok, fine then, but only for a couple more minutes, but that's it!"
*She giggled*
"Deal~"
Throughout their stay, the player only gets small snippets of Eternal Sugar's true personality. If the player chose to question her sickly sweet demeanor, she'd get defensive real fast, asking them why they would even question something like that. If angered, she becomes pushy, demanding, especially when the player doesn't do what she says
It becomes increasingly clear when Eternal Sugar gives you a new outfit, since the one you're wearing (aka the outfit Shadow Milk gave you) didn't fit her style, believing that you should wear something more flowy. She actually offers several different outfits for the player, and although nice, they're. . . let's just say not so family friendly; try as they might to reject her offers, she'll get upset and more persistent, nonetheless; this however does change as the story goes on, she becomes more understanding. Luckily, the two manage to make a compromise, Eternal Sugar offers the player a much simpler pink dress, with bows, lace, and ribbons. Despite being much to the player's liking(if that's what the player chooses), she begins to whine about it, saying how it could've been so much more; not to mention, both the ribbons and lace constantly get stuck on things if they aren't careful
The only time the player's able to really see Eternal Sugar's true colors is when Shadow Milk shows up, who's not all too happy about her basically kidnapping the player. Whilst they ventured alone, he made the mistake of taking his eyes off them for a second, last thing he knew they were snatched by some clouds and whisked away into the sky, which he immediately starts chasing after them. He knew exactly who was responsible. Unlike Shadow Milk, Eternal Sugar does a much better job of keeping her composure, playing dumb and refraining from acting out of character around the player. But once Shadow Milk insults her fake personality, all hell breaks loose
"Well, well, well, if it isn't my dear friend. . .?~ Eternal Sugar Cookie. . !"
*Shadow Milk had snuck in through an open window. Before you could even do anything, Eternal Sugar had already pulled you to her side, forcing you to sit in the lavish and comfortable sofa she was lounging on. He made his way towards her, with his usual wide smile; from the corner of your eye, you could barely see an eye twitch and, was he gritting his teeth? It didn't look like it, but he was seething with rage*
"Oh, Shadow Milk Cookie!~ for what do I owe the pleasure?~"
"How lovely of you to ask!~ You see, you just so happen to have something that belongs to me!"
*Shadow Milk then stares back at you, startling you a bit with his crazed expression. Although Eternal Sugar seemed unfazed, her grip on you only became tighter as the trickster started speaking to you*
"Little mousey, there you are!~ Oh I was so worried, thank goodness you're safe!~"
"I am so, so, sorry to have kept you waiting~ believe me, it's a long story!~"
"*Ah!* And what happened to the little dress I gave you?! I mean you still look cute, but you'd look so much better before and- oh! almost got off track for a second!~ *haha!*"
"Alrighty, I think it's time for me and my little mousey to get go-"
"You're leaving with them? Now what would be the purpose in that?~"
*She quickly shifted from her lounging position to a sitting position, pulling you closer toward her, and flustering you more. You see the trickster's eye twitch more, noticing just a crack in his character*
"*hehe-* what did you say. . ?!"
"I've tooken quite the liking to 'your' little mouse!~ Besides, you keeping them all to your self. . ? Extremely unfair of you!~"
*She then draped her arms around you, your face was getting redder by the second*
"Surely they'll be much happier here, isn't that right little mouse?~"
"Well, *uhh-* actually. . ."
"Then it's settled!~ The little mouse will be staying with me!~"
*They proceeded to argue back and forth, Shadow Milk's played up character was falling apart at the seams, losing a drop of his patience with every word the "angel" said. Eternal Sugar found herself quite entertained with the trickster getting angrier and angrier. All the while, you didn't know what to do, clearly neither of them were going to let you leave, or you know, let you get a single word in. So you were placed in a very awkward situation, stuck between an angel cookie who wasn't keen on you leaving, and a jester who was trying to get you back through gritted teeth*
"Listen, I'm the one who saw them first, they were found in my domain, therefore, they're mine! So if you would be so kind as to return them to me. . !"
*She proceeded to hold you closer, practically cuddling you, was she trying to make him even angrier?!*
"Oh but we're having so much fun!~ They'd much prefer it here than that over-the-top spiral you call a tower. . !"
*Insulting his domain was the nail in the coffin. It looked like he'd finally snapped, any ounce of patience he had before was completely out the window. Using his magic, he wrapped up your hands in some mysterious string, pulling you forward and out of Eternal Sugar's reach, greatly shocking and scaring the heck out of you. Once you were back in his arms, Shadow Milk pushed you behind him, and looking back at Eternal Sugar, she'd gotten up from the sofa, it seemed like she was starting to crack as well*
"Oh!~ So that's how we're gonna play *huh?!* Then I'll lend you this: do you really think they'd want to stay with a tooth-rotting prick like yourself?!"
*She began to clutch her fists, her eyes widen in a mix of shock and anger*
". . ?! What did you just call me. . ?!"
"Oh don't you give me that! little miss 'sweet & innocent angel!' unlike myself, people can see your fake persona from a mile away!~"
"And with how long they had to stay with you. . . I'm surprised my poor little mousey hasn't gotten sick and vomited from the spoiling and smothering they had to withstand!"
*That was all it took for her, she broke faster than he did, the wings on her back got bigger, Eternal Sugar's eyes glowed with rage*
". . . how dare you. . !"
"HOW DARE YOU!!"
The player obviously gets the choice of trying to stop the fight or slipping away, the following events escalating faster or slower depending on which they choose. Things escalate to a point where Eternal Sugar just snatched them and attempted to fly away with the player, which led to Shadow Milk using his magical strings to pull them back, entering the two of them in an intense game of tug of war with the player. And the force of both sides was so strong. . . It ended up ripping the player in half
So, Eternal Sugar Cookie, kinda pushy at times and very clingy all the time, but a sweetheart nonetheless
~Mystic Flour~
Getting ripped in half by two powerful beings. . . not something you would easily forget. . . You'd expect this to be game over, right? well, wrong, cause upon miraculously waking up, not only do you find yourself on top a strange alter, but face to face with Mystic Flour Cookie
Seeing the clouds of Eternal Sugar Cookie's cloud soaring past her land, she immediately could tell that something was a mist, and strolling through the silver forest and finding the player laying on the strange alter, her suspicions were correct
At first, she couldn't believe it, a cookie, in their world?! But after a proper meeting with the player and asking how they ended up on the alter, she became a bit more pitiful, going on to invite them to her domain, such a clueless cookie shouldn't be left alone!
But talking about what was basically their death is pretty traumatizing, so the player is given the choice of whether to straight up lie, or give some part of the truth
"So, you have no memory of how you ended up on this alter. . ? Nothing at all?"
*Your voice was strained, you didn't want to tell her the full truth*
"N-no, not a lot. . ."
*Mystic Flour then proceeds to grasp both your cheeks, pulling you close to her face, much to your slight embarrassment*
"Oh, you poor thing! You must be so lost, so confused. . ."
*It was that moment when an idea sprung into her, an idea that may help the both of you. . .*
"How about you come with me?~ Surely you'll be much safer!~"
*Try as you might to decline her offer, she just becomes more insistent. She was giving decent points however, you were lost and confused, not to mention trapped in this witch-forsaken place, and the only two "cookies" you knew killed you, accidently or not, you couldn't decide. . . Eventually, after lots of convincing and growing tired, you finally cave, accepting her offer*
"Ok, fine, I'll go with you"
"Oh good! Well, come along then!~"
*Gently, Mystic Flour took your hand, pulling you off the alter, and guiding you through the silver woods*
Mystic Flour had already made herself sound quite trustworthy, but of course, this can't be without some sort of catch. . . Though she looks caring on the outside, she sees the player as a mere tool, a stepping stool for something much greater. Her methods of getting information is much more subtle
Both minigames mentioned before required some sort of skill, Mystic Flour's is no exception. Similar to classic video game "Snake," the player's goal is to fill the respected area using dragons instead of snakes (wonder why?)
Pretty much the minute the two of them enter her domain, she basically gives them free range to do whatever. She doesn't really care if the player wanders too far or gets into spaces they shouldn't. But she will let you know when it's time to head back
*As the sun starts to set, you continue to search about the area like a curious child, you hardly noticed Mystic Flour standing just behind you*
"Little pika, dear it's time to head back!~"
*Hearing her voice yelling out to you so suddenly just barely startled you, but you gained back your composure once you see her warm smile*
"Oh! Hi Mystic Flour Cookie! Just give me a second, I have to check a few more things!"
*It wasn't like you weren't going to listen to her orders, you just had a bit more to do. But watching you get farther & farther away from her; Mystic Flour saw it differently. Already making her way toward you, she proceeded to scoop you into her arms, startling you and plastering blush onto your face, as she started walking you back herself*
"*ah!*W-Wait! Mystic Flour Cookie, I wasn't done ye-!"
"I know, I know, dear, you have your little tasks!~ But you'll have so much time to do them tomorrow, so please, might we head back? I'm sure the food is getting cold!"
*With you being in her grasp and your legs being very much off the ground, there wasn't really a choice to keep going. You could've kicked and screamed, but there were doubts that'd even work. . . And so, with no other options, you let her take you away, which sucked, but hey, at least you have yummy food waiting for you!*
Mystic Flour has the sheer amount of enthusiasm as an overly supportive mother, she has not a clue of what the player is doing but they're doing great! But like some mothers, she tries a more "hands off" approach as a way to set rules, intentionally not telling the player helpful information just for the sake of them learning it themselves
She does, however, provide them with all the materials to do so: a bedtime routine, plenty of food, and a warm winter outfit. Speaking of which, due to the wintery background, Mystic Flour gives them an outfit most suitable to withstand the cold, something heavy, but also angelic, a nun like dress colored a soft yellow, complete with black counterparts. The only downside is that defending the player from the cold is its only purpose, for it is much too heavy anywhere else and unbearable in hotter areas
Unlike the other beasts mentioned, Mystic Flour has no interest in forming a genuine relationship with the player. To her, you only serve one purpose, finding her escape (whatever that means) and is more direct into reaching her goal. She creates a false sense of security between the two of them, then when the time is right, uses that bond to her advantage. Fortunately, this behavior does change as the story continues, and Mystic Flour becomes more interested, and attached, to the player, but for now, her methods remain neutral
This becomes more apparent as Mystic Flour tries getting information out of the player in a sort of therapeutic way, sitting them down and letting them speak about their troubles, starting with the obvious. . .
"And. . . that's pretty much what happen. . ."
*You laid atop the much larger cookie, your head resting on her lap as she lightly massaged your hair. You rub your hands uncomfortably, as if waiting for bad news, your throat felt strained. Sandwiched between two angry beings, getting pulled into the sky then ripped in two, these were memories you weren't ready to revisit, especially with someone you've met only a few moments ago. . . At the same time, was holding this deep inside healthy? You saw life flash before your eyes, seconds before being split in half. . . Besides, you were already holding onto so much. . . would it hurt to let go of some. . . You felt Mystic Flour let go of your hair as she began running her hand on your face*
"Oh you, poor, poor, dear. . ."
"I am so sorry you had to be apart of. . . that. . ."
*Although you couldn't see her face, she sounded genuinely sorry for you, which was quite refreshing considering everything you've been through so far*
"They can be rather selfish at times, only thinking about themselves. . . You're lucky you've ended up with me!~"
*You laughed at her remark, trying to brighten up the mood, despite still feeling, well, you didn't know what to feel at that point. . .*
"*Heh* Yeah. . . I guess you're right. . ."
*Unannounced to you, Mystic Flour smiled to herself, her plan was working swimmingly. . . Having brought you to a docile state, it was more than a better time to gather the information she'd been longing for. . .*
"If you would allow me to. . . may I ask you something else?"
*You think for a minute, it was only one question, what harm could it do. . .*
"*Uh* sure. . . what is it?"
"Well little pika, you see-"
*Before the words could fall out of her mouth, there was a sudden loud BANG noise from outside. Respectfully, this startles you, making you flinch, but Mystic Flour didn't seem to move. . . Looking back up, you were finally able to see her face, she seemed irritated, annoyed. Gently, she lifted your head off her lap, resting you onto your knees, confused, you turn to her and saw that she was already standing, looking down upon you. She mumbled something under her breath*
"*Ugh* At a time like this. . ?!"
"Just a moment pika. . . I have to handle something. . ."
Mystic Flour considers herself to be the mother figure of the beasts, and although uncompassionate at times, she plays her role well
~Burning Spice~
(Literally the most perfect segway!~)
All it took was Shadow Milk and Eternal Sugar fighting for Burning Spice Cookie to want a part of the action. Last where we left off with them, the two managed to split the player in half, insides and everything, and were now freaking out over their (very much dead) body, whilst arguing over whose fault it was. By sheer coincidence, did Burning Spice decide to check up on Eternal Sugar, and catches site of the two yelling at each other
Burning Spice hasn't met the player, doesn't know who they are nor what they look like, but he took immediate interest in them after seeing how they affected the two other beasts. If just their mutilated body was enough to cause them to start screaming and crying like little kids, who knows what else they could do. . .
Already, he was making assumptions of what kind of person they'd be, perhaps the player was someone strong and intimidating, someone perfect to be his sparring partner, and continues to deny any sort of actual description of them
Him, Shadow Milk, Eternal Sugar had mostly worked together in their search for the player, but the millisecond they found out they were with Mystic Flour, the race was on. . . Which takes us to now, where Burning Spice appears first, causing a massive scene with his abilities in an attempt to lure her out
*Alerted by the sudden destruction just outside, Mystic Flour rushed to her outer balcony, irritated like this had happened before. . . She knew exactly who the culprit was, and sure enough, there he was, sitting casually atop the balcony's railing, Burning Spice greeted her with a sinister look on his face. She had already prepared herself, immediately knowing that something was about to go down*
"There she is, Misty! Long time no see!"
"Burning Spice Cookie. . . what brings you here. . ?"
"*Oh!* I think you know exactly why I'm here!"
*Getting off the railing, he walked toward his comrade, having no use in making a big deal out of it. Mystic Flour, although slightly surprised, saw it as a sort of threat, only further did she stand her ground*
"Ya see, a little birdie told me that you've been hiding a shiny new treasure from us. And I, of course, thought it'd be too good to be true. . . So I decided to drop by to take a look for myself. . !"
*He tried walking around her to reach the balcony's entrance, but before he could take another step, Mystic Flour stopped him, she wouldn't back down that easily. . .*
"There is no such thing. . . whatever is in my possession is none of your business. . !"
*In her defensive state, Burning Spice's persistence only grew, now patting her shoulder almost reassuringly*
"Hey, c'mon Misty!~ we're buddies, pals! Letting me get a tiny sneak peek shouldn't be a problem!"
"Say, how about this? You let me see what you're hiding, and I promise, I won't tell the others, I'll even let ya keep it! So what do ya say?~"
*Not even seconds after he said that, he immediately tried pushing past Mystic Flour as if she'd already answered his question. Of course, she shut that down almost instantly, even pushing him back, something which he doesn't really take well. His eyes widened, she set him off by just that push alone. She could bluntly tell he was lying, only using their relationship as an excuse, so she didn't let him any closer*
"Burning Spice Cookie, we've known each other for eons, do you really think I wouldn't be able to recognize one of your petty excuses. . . ?! "
"If you knew better, you'd be wise enough to leave, for this so-called treasure you're after, I know nothing about!"
*Pushing and telling him to leave. . . yep, that'll do it. . . Burning Spice broke into laughter as his hair began to glow warms shades of red, orange, and yellow, moving like a sea of flames*
"*HA HA HA HAHAHA!* *Oh!* Misty, ya might just make me angry!"
*His tone quickly shifts from trigger-happy to overall threatening once he'd opened his eyes, now just as bright as his hair, he marches towards Mystic Flour, who was all the more irritated and unfazed*
"And you. . . don't wanna make me angry. . !"
"Make you angry?! *Heh!* Didn't know it was so easy to mess with that small brain of yours!"
*It isn't long before the two engage in full on battle, both sides being equally matched in some way. While this was all happening, you were completely unaware; being inside exploring, you're none the wiser of the destruction going on outside*
Eventually, Burning Spice does manage to bust his way inside, and upon actually seeing the player in their simple state, he couldn't be more disappointed, to think Shadow Milk and Eternal Sugar's bickering would be caused by such a boring little cookie(but those two do fight over a lot of things, so-)
He'd almost considered leaving them, but Burning Spice would rather leave with something than nothing, so taking his losses he hoists up the player over his shoulder and makes, a not so quiet, escape. Much to Mystic Flour's dismay and the player's protests (or cries for help depending on what they choose)
Burning Spice sees the player like how a general sees a soldier. He thinks they're weak, bland, and more notably boring, and wants to, in his words, "spice them up." Because of this, he is unnecessarily harsh, working the player to the bone and expecting them to "get up" when they get too tired
*How long has it been. . ? An hour? Two hours? At that point you didn't know, but all you did know is that it felt like an eternity since Burning Spice started your so called "training." Back and forth, you were forced to run with heavy rocks on your back whilst following him, who was doing the same. All the while he'd yell at you to pick up the pace as encouragement. . .You huffed and panted*
"*Hah**hah. . .* Burning Spice Cookie, please, can't we stop for. . . just a minute. . ?"
*It was the only time he'd turn back at you, what a ridiculous ask!*
"What?! Definitely not! ya still got a lot to go, pipsqueak!"
*You couldn't go on any longer. A mess of sweat and sore bones, you plummet to the ground, numb to the rocks currently on your back, you wanted rest, at least for a minute. . . Burning Spice only reached a good distance away before noticing you were far, far behind. He ran back to you, but not because he was worried*
"Ay! Pipsqueak, what's the holdup?!"
*He crouched down, better viewing your shriveled up body, far too weak to keep going. Despite the obvious, Burning Spice still tried getting you to stand, poking, even attempting to pull you off the ground, but you won't budge. . .*
"C'mon! Quit acting like Eternal Sugar Cookie and get moving!"
"Please. . . let me rest. . ."
*Your sweat could've well stained the ground if it were cool enough. . . You were stubborn & refused to get up, becoming a puddle of flesh. Realizing that you weren't moving, he, grudgingly, decides to do what was best, but first he had to move you somewhere more suitable to your needs*
"*Ugh* Alright! Fine! I'll let you outta this, only once!"
*Swiftly brushing the rocks off your back, he scoops you up and onto his shoulder, no way would he let you die right then and there. You suddenly feel the biggest weight being literally lifted off your shoulders, thanking whatever was out there for this moment*
"I'll let you rest, but not here!"
"*Heh* Thank you. . ."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever!"
Everything Burning Spice does, he expects the player to do the same, no matter how difficult. But will give them the benefit of the doubt when the player gets too tired to keep going, much to his annoyance
He's active and moving 24/7, that's why Burning Spice's minigame is directly based on "Super Mario Bros" where the player runs about collecting items, attacking enemies, etc.
If the player is talking to him, he'll most entirely talk about himself, boosting his ego, even throwing insults at the other beasts, which is both annoying and ironic because he does the exact same things that they do. That being said, it's important to never get mad at him or give him attitude because it will work him up, for better or worse. . .
The player can easily get information from him due to his blunt honesty. When talking about the other beasts, he'll always give bits of helpful information about them, some that can be extremely helpful in the future
Similar to Mystic Flour, Burning Spice gives the player free range to do whatever, the only difference is that Burning Spice sets up these "training sessions" on random occasions without notifying the player firsthand, and expects them to drop everything to train with him. This exhausts the player, causing them to only be able to do things during the day, when they've required enough rest
*Stumbling into the room Burning Spice gave you, you flop onto the bed, nestling your head against your pillow, relived. You were finally able to rest your jelly legs, sore running around and doing tasks. But you turn to your side, something catches your eye. . . On the single window of your room, you noticed what looked to be a slip of paper. Despite being entirely drained, your curiosity got the better of you, and slipping from the bed, you make your way toward the windowsill, now realizing how out of place from the rest of the room, appearing more of a light lilac than any of the reds and oranges. You questioned if even came from the place, and upon proper examination, your suspicions seemed correct. . . This was no mere paper, but a letter! Curiosities only felt more rapid as you opened, revealing not only short message crafted in cursive, but a beautiful illustration of a rose*
"Small Rodent, have you been faring well within our world? Have you been eating, sleeping well? I hope the others hadn't been too cruel towards you. . . Word of mouth does not travel fast here, so I apologize if I arrive to you late. . . I wish to reach you soon. . ."
"From- Silent Salt Cookie"
"Small Rodent. . ?"
*Reading through the passage, you took a few seconds to process, hoping that whoever sent it wasn't suggesting what you thought they were suggesting, cause if you got kidnapped one more time. . .-*
"Aye! Pipsqueak!!"
*Burning Spice had, without warning, busted into the room, no time for internal dialogue now! With milliseconds to think, you swiftly hide the letter behind your back, not before confronting the brute for his sudden excursion of your privacy*
"B-Burning Spice Cookie?! What are you doing here?!-"
"What?~ I can't check on my little pipsqueak, can't I?~"
*Again with the nickname. .?! Blushing rapidly, you couldn't tell whether you were annoyed, angry, or just plain embarrassed. . . Burning Spice laughed boastingly, always amused by your expressions*
"*HAHAHAH!~* Ya never fail to entertain me, pipsqueak!~"
*Then he noticed the arms behind your back. . .*
"Say, whatcha got there? Ya hiding something from me?"
*Shoot! the letter was still in your hands! Only seeing this as more of a reason to keep it hidden, you play it cool for as much as possible*
"I-It's nothing! W-What are you talking about?!*hehe*"
*Burning Spice just saw your actions as even more suspicious, he might be a barbarian, but he isn't stupid. He attempted turning you around to see what exactly you were keeping from him, all the while you were trying to dodge him, cold sweat beginning to run down your forehead*
"Are ya sure? Cause *uh* ya starting to look pretty sweaty there. . ."
"Oh!- this?! *Uhh. . .* I'm just, tired! from all the training today *haha!*"
*You two do this dance a bit, with you becoming doubly irritated the more Burning Spice tried seeing what you're hiding, getting additionally irritated while Burning Spice looked completely willing to tear your front open, asking and reinsuring you, again and again to get a little looksee. And you thought Shadow Milk was nosy?! Annoying and driven to your breaking point, you practically yell at him-*
"IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS, OK?!"
*Hearing those words fall out of your mouth, Burning Spice is beyond tooken aback, clearly, he didn't like being told what to do. You quickly gasp to yourself, slamming your mouth closed with a free hand upon realizing what you've just said, how could you be so stupid?! With the letter still in your other hand, you decide the best course of action was to crumble up the paper, that letter was the least of your worries now anyway. . .*
"Did. . .Did you just yell at me. . ?!"
*You gulped, your sweat becoming increasingly apparent as the brute looked seconds away from having steam shoot out his ears. He proceeds to get unnervingly close, practically towering over you. . .Didn't think it would end this way. . .*
"That. . . Is. . ."
"Great!!!"
"Ya getting spicier by the minute!"
*Burning Spice grabbed both your shoulders, and shook them with excitement, much to your bewilderment. The way his tone can just shift was both jarring and impressive. After a bit of violent shaking and surviving what would've been another death experience, he eventually lets go, not before giving you a hardy slap to the back whilst laughing, dang near knocking you off your feet and the letter out of your hand*
"*HA! HA!* Ya know what!? Take the rest of the day off! I wanna see my hard work!"
*He happily marches out of the room, leaving you in a rather messed up state*
"Be sure to get all the rest ya need! Ya gonna need it for tomorrow!"
*Burning Spice leaves the room, shutting the door, the second he was out of sight, you took the biggest sigh of relief. That was close, way too close! Like you practically dodged a bullet! You pull back out the crumbled-up letter and tried to fix it, somewhat regretting your decision of almost destroying it before. You had to be more careful next time*
During this entire scene, the player must be extra careful around Burning Spice, because despite how it's played, there's a route where he discovered the letter while they're asleep, and he's not too pleased with having Silent Salt trying to contact them, promptly getting so angry he burns the letter to ashes
That being said, Burning Spice, though seeming like a rage-filled brute who fights first and asks questions later, he's never threatening nor outright violent to the player, unless its a final resort. The player is a much-needed piece in a, all be it complex, puzzle, even if they don't even know it, and in order for them to work is through gaining their trust. But don't think that this is a good thing, there are many times where he could've hurt them yet actively chose not to
He immediately got to work constructing another outfit for the player cause in his own words, "there's no way ya staying here looking like that!" And the outfit he gives them perfectly reflects his ego, slick black clothing, paired with red barbaric accents, and brightly colored armor, making the player look like a mini version of himself. It's good enough for the endless training they have to do, but it's clear that some parts of the outfit were put together at the last second and were made from the minimal sewing Burning Spice learned. And if wanting to be honest, it's kinda ugly. . . Overall, it's the player's least favorite of the outfits given (if they decide it is)
Every hour, it feels like Burning Spice is always learning something new about the player, to him at least. Because of this, he celebrates every accomplishment they make with lavished (and very spicy) feasts, no matter how small they might be. Not exactly the best prize for basically being slaved away constantly to a point of exhaustion, but he doesn't need to know that. The only downside to this is that he's loud, like really loud, so loud in fact, he can't hear any other voices but his own, making him clearly oblivious to a certain someone stealing away the player(-again)
So Burning Spice, a not-so great roommate, but a pretty good personal trainer
~Silent Salt~
Ever since leaving Shadow Milk's site, someone else had been watching the player for some time, someone who wasn't too distant from the player, none other than the silent knight themself, Silent Salt Cookie
Once they found out about the player, there wasn't an ounce of disbelief nor hesitation that got into their head, they only had one goal in mind, and that was getting the player out of the other beasts' hands. But like a hungry wolf with its meal, they knew it wouldn't be easy. The other beasts always kept the player at arm's length, even with the leisure they receive, those four always made sure they were watched. And so they waited, and waited, and waited. . . In till they had the right moment to strike
Normally the beasts would be more direct when approaching the player, probably showing some pity towards them, not before whisking them away, Silent Salt on the other hand had a more different approach. They'd leave small letters for the player, all written in cursive and paired with a beautifully drawn illustration which they constructed themselves. Silent Salt essentially gives the player a bread crumb trail, preparing them for what was to come as to not spook them later
"Last one to get back to the base goes stale!"
"Burning Spice Cookie! Wait up!"
*You two were only trying to get back. . . nothing too special, yet of course, Burning Spice just had to turn it into a game of tag, didn't he?! Already tired from the day's activities, you struggled to move forward, and the barbarian is way ahead. Despite how unfair, annoying, and exhausting it was, you sighed, it wasn't the first time he did this. . . As you forced your body further, all you cared about was getting rest. You never understood why Burning Spice pushed your body to such lengths, but if there was one other reason to keep going it was to spite him. But as you were about halfway there, an unknown force suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side, you yelped, why does everyone here like grabbing you!?*
"*AH!* W-What the!?-"
*Pulled into an unnoticed corner, you practically swing yourself around, already having a good idea of just who decided to yank you out of the way, and you got what you wished for. . . Hovering over your tiny body, was the silent knight themself, quiet and unmoving, looking down at you. . . You jump back a bit startled, those training sessions are sounding a lot better right now. . . Although frozen with fear, it didn't take long to realize that something wasn't right. Sure, they appeared in front of you but that was merely it, just standing there, menacingly, almost like a statue. Your fear quickly dissolves into pure confusion as you stare back at them, the moment shifting into awkward silence. You already had a decent idea of who this fellow might be, and decided to use it as a way to break the barrier between you two*
"*Um. . .* Hi. . ."
"Y-You're Silent Salt Cookie, right. . ?"
*It took them a second to respond, and by "respond" they actually crouched down and got extremely close to your face, adding to your bewilderment, and barely managing to keep your composure*
"*ah!-* I'm gonna take that as a yes. . !"
*As a result of being thrown around so much, you practically knew what was next, but seeing the knight so still felt alien to you, and almost refreshing. . ? Like you were happy to just not be snatched for once, as morbid as that sounds. Oh but no, that's not right, who's to say that this fellow was to be trusted. You make the bold choice to ask them more questions, but before another word could fall out of your mouth. . .*
"Aye Pipsqueak! What's the hold up!?"
It's a no-brainer that Burning Spice finally noticed the player's absence, they have the rightful decision of running to him or yelling out, which Silent Salt covers their mouth and attempts to take them away(what a surprise!) The second route, however, the player's (4th) kidnapping is put on display for Burning Spice, who did not handle the situation well. He immediately rushes in to save them, but Silent Salt was much too swift for him. All the while, the player attempts to save themselves; trying to kick, scream, and squirm their way to freedom, but nothing works, they were a knight after all. Enraged, Burning Spice yells at Silent Salt that he'll get revenge, and he won't be alone. . !
(And before we go on any further, I personally like to hc that Silent Salt is both mute and deaf because 1. it matches with the new ancient heroes since Pure Vanilla is heavily implied to be blind; and 2. it'd make sense that the witches would want to make a disabled cookie. During their pre-corruption days, the five virtues also had to be role models for the cookies, thus they had to, at some extent, be relatable. So giving one of the virtues something that other cookies can relate to makes sense. Oh and as a bonus, Silent Salt is completely fluent in ASL and is fairly good at lip reading; Shadow Milk and Mystic Flour are also fluent in ASL and often act as their mouth pieces. Ok moving on!)
You'd think that the player wouldn't trust Silent Salt from the jump, given the circumstances & that this happened to them so many other times, and yet. . . Silent Salt was the only one to be considerate of the player's feelings before performing the act, they knew the player would be scared, if not terrified, of them, especially when you consider their appearance and quiet nature; thus they planted the letter to let them know. So although this doesn't mean the player fully trusts them, it is a step into the right path
How they view the player is a complete mystery, unlike the other beasts, it isn't just spelled out in ink. Instead, the player has to focus on their interactions and certain body language, since they can't speak
Similarly to Eternal Sugar, Silent Salt will often give the player gifts in an attempt to gain their trust. The main difference on the other hand was that those gifts were much smaller scale than what Eternal Sugar gave them, but still feel more thought out and genuine
*Lilac-colored curtain draped over large windows, comfortable sitting, and a bed that resembled a soft marshmallow, you had to admit, for living in a wasteland, they sure knew a thing or two about decor. But as you admired your new bedroom, you get a sudden knock on the door, and opening it a crack, you see Silent Salt, they appeared to be holding a few things*
"Oh! Silent Salt Cookie! What brings you-"
*Fully opening the door revealed what they were holding, a bouquet of beautifully made paper flowers in one hand, and a sliver tin, filled with salted chocolates in the other. Seeing the gifts, you were pleasantly surprised, not just by the tin of sweets but the paper flowers, so true to life and clearly made by them, you were amazed by the fact they were able to pull something like that off*
"Wow! are these for me?"
*The knight nodded their head, handing both gifts to you. Despite how small the gesture was, you still felt a tiny bit overwhelmed, the smallest hint of blush creeped onto your face*
"T-Thank you! They're lovely!"
Silent Salt was & still somewhat is known for their skills with a sword, thus the reason why their minigame is based on "Fruit Ninja." The player, instead of slicing fruit, is made to cut different pieces of paper according to a dotted line, in an attempt to mimic Silent Salt's paper flowers
While out exploring and doing tasks, Silent Salt will actually partner up with the player & help them, which is already a massive change from the player's other beast encounters. Either they'd find ways to stretch the task out even longer, or just not help at all, so having them there is a huge change of pace. They're always by the player's side, because of this, they can come off as clingy at times
They, like most of the beasts, give the player free range to do whatever, but is quick to set boundaries. The player isn't allowed to go into certain areas without their supervision, especially at night
*Lightly tracking your steps across cold floors, you carefully tiptoe through the Silent domain, moonlight streaking onto every nook and cranny acted as your only light source, which you tried to use to your advantage, the last thing you wanted was to be caught. But when you turned the corner, guess who you unceremoniously bumped into. . ? Pressed into their chest, you abruptly backed away startled & flustered realizing who it was, Silent Salt just looked at you, just like before*
"*Ah!-* Silent Salt Cookie. . ! It's not what you think. . !"
"I-I just have a few other things to do, that's all!-"
*The silent knight only stood there, arms crossed, making their stance all the more stern. You already had a good idea of what was going on in their head, no amount of convincing would change your fate. So with a sigh, you started heading back to your room, not before Silent Salt gently scoops you up, refusing to let you touch the floor, and carried you there themself. Blushing rapidly, you beg and plead for them to put you down, but failed miserably; why does everyone like carrying you so much. . ?*
Silent Salt treats the player like they're the most fragile thing on Earthbread, handling them with care and, with their position as a knight, more than happy to cater to their every need and desire
Due to their disability and limitations in lip reading, talking to them is difficult, creating this communication barrier between them and the player. This, however, doesn't stop the two of them from trying to fix the issue
That being said, Silent Salt most definitely wants to teach the player ASL so they can communicate easier. They made sure they'd take their time, teaching them all they need to know, starting with letters, to phrases, to full sentences. Even if the player struggles to learn at first, they're extremely patient with them, teaching things one step at a time
If it wasn't already obvious, Silent Salt is very delicate with their hands, due to their precise skills with a sword. Because of this, they picked up quite a few hobbies, like painting and drawing, clearly showed by the letter they made the player before, and surprisingly, braiding hair
*Slowly, the silent knight carefully overlapped strand after strand of hair from your head into beautiful braids. They put special care into each braid, constantly checking with you to make sure they were comfortable, even going the extra mile of creating more paper flowers to infuse into the braids. Sitting in front of the bedroom's vanity mirror, you were in awe at how perfect the braids were, your hair practically became an art project! Looking back at them, you couldn't see their face, but you could tell Silent Salt was genuinely enjoying themself, how they added flower after flower, even sometimes placing one directly onto your head; because well, why not? It was moments like this that made you think back to when you first met, back to when their silence felt alien to you, and how you were so unwilling to cooperate. . . Yes, you still didn't fully trust the knight, all of this just felt too perfect, almost too good to be true even, but it does. After placing the last flower, they were finally done, the braids were wrapped around your head and tied in the back with a purple ribbon*
If the hairstyle doesn't make them feel like royalty, then don't worry, Silent Salt had them covered. Cause not soon after doing their hair, they presented their outfit, which looked more like a gorgeous gown than any regular dress. Everything about it was perfect, the long white silk trin that partly touched the floor, the bow around the waste that matched your hair, the simple purple accents, its ruffled layers, everything. But possibly the most radiant part of the gown was these beautiful sewn in embroideries, each more beautiful than the last, all throughout. This was the straw that broke that camel's back, such actions of kindness couldn't go unrewarded; so through ASL, the player is able to sign phrases "thank you" and "sorry," to which Silent Salt immediately accepts. Quite a shame the player couldn't do more. . . The only two downside one could think of is that it strongly resembled a wedding dress, which can give the wrong ideas fast; also the gown length gives the possibility of tripping, but that's a simple price to pay
The relationship between the player and Silent Salt is mostly through action, and to some extent, physical touch. The player is always finding new and creative ways to repay them for everything they've done, often finding themselves cooking or cleaning for them, even gifting them drawings and paper creations they made themselves. Silent Salt does find this sweet and charming, but as a knight, they really have no desires. They crave the simpler things, like holding hands, learning ASL, or just being together in general. No amount of wasted paper would change that
Unfortunately, as stated before, not everything can be too blissful. . . Silent Salt is regularly shown to be extremely overprotective of the player, which does make sense considering their role; Silent Salt is a knight, keeping the innocent safe is their job, and the fact that the other beasts were also after them only made them double down on protecting them. Now, Silent Salt, before meeting the player, had no plans of escape, at least even they think of, in fact, became increasingly fond of their surroundings. . . Only when they learned the player did they start to reconsider. . . with a new opportunity, they couldn't simply pass it up. . .
Because of this, they've developed a 6th sense(or 5th or 4th) whenever they felt the player was in danger. Silent Salt can pick up signals of danger from miles away, and acts quickly ensure their safety, so imagine the player's surprise and confusion when being rushed somewhere else
*Everything was a blur. . . One second ago you and Silent Salt were spending time together per usual, before you knew it you were being pulled into your room, and Silent Salt was doing repeated checks on the door and windows, making sure they were locked. Confused, you try to stop them in their tracks, to get some sort of answer, but all they did was clutch both your hands tightly, looking you directly in the eyes; before abruptly letting go, telling you to never, for any reason, open the door or windows till they came back, then disappears, leaving you in a state of flustered shock. Even if completely unexpected on your end, it became increasingly clear why Silent Salt acted the way they did. . . with a battle axe, guess who was waiting just outside. . ?*
"Salty! right on time!~ It's been awhile, hasn't it?~"
*The knight merely stood there, sword in hand with a tight grip. They already knew what the brute was saying, him placing the axe's handle on the back of his neck as he began to walk towards them*
"Honestly, I'm pretty surprised Salty!~ Out of everybody here, it's you who'd be dumb enough to steal from me, me!"
"Cause when I think of stealing, I usually think of Shadow Milk Cookie, maybe Eternal Sugar Cookie if what we're after is really worth fighting for, but you?! *HA!* Didn't think of ya as the taking type!~"
"*Hmm. . .* I like it! You know I always love a good surprise?~"
*With every step he took, Silent Salt only further stood their ground, having already pulled their sword out from the dirt and getting into a battle stance. Upon reading their body language, his grin only got bigger, he knew exactly what was doing and actively stirred the pot. He put his hands up as he backed away in a condescending yet reassuring tone*
"*Woah!-* *Woah!-* Easy there buddy!~ Now I know what it looks like, but I promise, I didn't come here to cause trouble. . ."
"Instead, I'm looking for a little. . . exchange. . ."
*Burning Spice proceeded to hold his axe behind his back to make himself appear more innocent. All the while Silent Salt didn't once get out of their battle-ready mindset*
"Now I know I can be a little. . . hectic at times, but for this I'm willing to make one exception. . ."
"Say, I won't leave a scratch on your place, if you return what you've stole from me. . !"
"A simple deal, really!- You get out of this with no causalities, and I leave with that little cookie in tow!~ So what do ya say. . ?"
*Silent Salt was only getting parts of the Burning Spice's so called "deal," and already, they were not having it. . ! With just a blink of an eye, Silent Salt went from guarding their domain to holding the tip of their blade at Burning Spice's throat, as if they teleported, they were that fast. . ! Along with Shadow Milk's lies, none of the beasts were dumb enough to fall for one of his exchanges! The knight was clearly provoked; exactly what the brute wanted, so he kicked back far enough to pull his axe out from his back. Though the kick was strong, Silent Salt was still able to hold their ground, using their sword to keep their footing. There was a battle-hungry look in his eyes*
"*HA HA!* You just love surprising me, don't ya Salty?!"
*He then stretched his neck and shoulders, tense bones popped at the motion. Then proceeded to do his battle stance*
"Whatever! Wouldn't have worked anyway! Besides, no one gets dumber around here, right?! *HA!*"
"But one thing's for sure. . . Doesn't matter how tough you act. . . I'm not leaving without my pipsqueak. . !"
*His tone shifted to slight anger as his hair turned into bright flames. Having weapons drawn, it's clear as day as neither was willing to do what the other wanted, nor give in. Both had goals set in stone and willing to follow through with them; but just before they could actually strike at one and other. . .*
"*Yoo-hoo~* Up here!~"
"Apologizes for being so late you two, we've bumped into some. . . causalities. . ."
*In from above, flew in Eternal Sugar atop one of her clouds as Mystic Flour floated beside her, landing onto opposites of the brute and knight, creating this strange box. Burning Spice became all the happier, being the violence-obsessed cookie he was, this just maybe the fight more interesting for him. While Silent Salt was as stern as ever, despite being outnumbered*
"Misty! Sugar! Welcome to the party!! Just when things were starting to get interesting!~"
"*Ugh* Don't overexcite yourself Burning Spice Cookie, some of us only want this to be over with. . !"
*She has a quick glance at the beasts around her, just as annoyed of as before*
"So . . . I assume we all know about our new. . . 'inhabitant,' yes?"
*The silent knight nodded*
"*Pfft* *Uh Duh!-* What's was ya first clue?!"
"That's right! It's been far too long since I've seen another cookie, and when I finally find one, they're snatched from my hands!"
"Oh my poor little mouse!~ They must've been so lonely since they were taken away from me!"
"Being pushed and pulled by some brute and locked away by some scary knight?!~ What can be worse?!"
*Eternal Sugar whined and whined, nitpicking everything that she deemed "cruel treatment," and although most of the things said were true, Burning Spice couldn't help but take offense*
"Aye! What do ya mean by 'pushing and pulling around?!' I have you know I treat them with utmost respect and care!"
"*HA!* You call your so called 'training' of yours respect and care?! Don't make me laugh!"
"Unlike you, I provide my little mouse with everything they could ever need, everything they desire. . ! I make them happy! All your training does is ruin their perfect mind and body!"
*She looked over to her two other comrades*
"At least I can be assured that those two actually kept them safe, otherwise, I wouldn't know what I'd do. . ."
"Even Shadow Milk Cookie takes better care of my little mouse. . ."
*That's when most of the group realized a crucial detail, where the heck was Shadow Milk?! Unannounced to them, Mystic Flour already had a good idea of where he was, but waited to answer. . .*
"Oh yeah! Shadow Milk Cookie isn't here! Where is the guy anyway?!"
"When we found out the pika was being kept here, we came as soon as possible. But it wasn't long before Shadow Milk separated from us; we tried to pursue him but by then, he was already gone. . ."
"Perhaps we should wait for him. . .Knowing him, he likely has something planned. . !"
*With Shadow Milk being the smartest of their group, waiting for him seemed like the safest option, after all he was known for his tricks, who knows what he could be planning. Yet the brute and angel, who always had something to say, didn't have the patience for such. . .*
"And let him get another chance on stealing my little mouse away again?! Absolutely not!!"
"Yeah Misty, not having Shadow Milk Cookie around means less of us to get through, even if it is kinda boring! *HA HA!*"
"Wouldn't want his filth to rub off on my pipsqueak. . !"
*Eternal Sugar gasped in surprise and utter disgust*
"'Your' Pipsqueak?! are you delusional?! Clearly they're mine!!"
*Burning Spice cracked his knuckles, as he puffed his chest*
"Oh yeah?! Then why don't ya prove it?!"
*Mystic Flour groaned in irritation, if her eyes were open she would have definitely rolled them, this charade was going too far*
"*Ugh* You two are bickering like children! Could you at least not treat them like some object?! It's likely that the pika will return to me or Silent Salt Cookie, at least we don't see them as a mere pet. . !"
*Silent Salt nodded in agreement*
"And yet, I think we all know what we're really after. . . "
*With that sentence alone, it made Burning Spice and Eternal Sugar as quiet as Silent Salt was. . . The whole area was hushed, quiet enough to hear a pin drop. . .The four beasts side eyed each other, as if ready to duel; evidence was undeniably clear, they wanted to use you. . .for something? After keeping their running mouths shut for what felt like decades, Burning Spice finally breaks the silence, drawing his weapon, his patience was already dissolved. . .*
"Alright, that's it! We all want the cookie, and just sitting around isn't gonna help!"
"So, let's settle this. . . once and for all. . !"
"Agreed!"
"*Ugh* Suppose we should get this over with. . !"
*As Silent Salt drew their sword, the battle had began. The four played sides, the three of them trying to barge their way in, and Silent Salt trying to keep them out; and despite how unfair the fight seemed, not only were they evenly matched, but they all were fighting for themselves, for their own selfish goals, all of which surrounded getting to you. . . Speaking of that, you were once more left in the dark, spared from the situation. Not to say you aren't curious about what was going on either, in fact you were completely willing to open the windows to look outside if Silent Salt didn't tell you to keep them closed. Laying on top of the marshmallow bed, you stare up at the ceiling in boredom and something else. You received another to be alone with your thoughts, really rekindle and wonder. . . What the hell was going on?! First you were teleported to this strange place, then you were kidnapped five times, then you basically died and came back to life? Nothing about your situation was normal! Not to mention the cookies you're trapped with, if you can even call them "cookies" what even were they? You didn't know anything about them, what to feel about them, let alone if you could trust them or not. . . Questions were swimming in your head like fish upstream, feelings fighting for control in till. . .*
"*AH HAHAHAHA!~* no matter what, the story always stays the same!~"
*You hear a voice, a squeaky, arrogant, yet oh so voice. . . You look around in surprise, was that who you thought it was?!*
"That's right!~ The hero has arrived!~"
". . .To save his damsel in distress!~"
*CRASH!*
*Destroying one of the windows, bursts in the self-proclaimed trickster himself, Shadow Milk Cookie, the suddenness of the action making you fall off your bed startled and almost near giving you a heart attack. When hitting the ground, he did a quick barrel roll before landing on one knee in a sort of "ta-da!" position, acting like he didn't ruin a perfectly good glass plane, and much to your bewilderment. You quickly get up and stand towards him*
"S-Shadow Milk?! Are you ok?!"
"Awh~ Look at you!~ worrying for lil'ol me!~"
"I'm perfectly fine my little mousey!~ Absolutely splendid!~"
*You knew you should've expected a reaction like that from him of all cookies, but it didn't stop you from going dumbfounded*
"You just jumped in through a closed window!!"
*He then went on this long, overexaggerated, winded speech about how much he missed you, how you two had been separated for far too long, what lengths he had to go through just to get to you, but you were wise enough to know that he was partly spewing out lies. . . Mystic Flour knew he had a plan, and had a plan he did! whilst everyone else was occupied, he'd snuck in through a back window, unbelievable how such a cheap tactic was able to work. . . It wasn't long for Shadow Milk to notice the beautiful dress you were wearing, and lights up with glee, zipping toward you, and scaring you once more*
"And might I add, that is quite a marvelous gown you have on!~ *AH!* It makes you look so much more like a proper damsel!~ who made it?!"
"Well-. . ."
*He cuts you off before another word could come out of your mouth*
"-Oh, no, no, no, wait!- don't tell me, Silent Salt Cookie made this, didn't they?~"
"*AH!* It's such a no brainer!~ They make such amazing things, of course they'd make something this cute!~ I'm a little jealous!~ *hehehe!~*"
"*Whew!~* Okay, I think we had enough excitement for one day, hadn't we?~"
*He abruptly grabs your arm and pulls you close, startling you as blush begins to creep up your cheeks*
"Time to go home!~"
*It was the mention of "home" that threw you into a loop, what did he mean by "go home?!" Shocked, you pulled yourself away from the trickster, causing surprise and slight annoyance on his end*
"H-Home?! What are you talking about?!"
"Oh, you ask such silly questions, I'm taking you with me! Back to my humble abode!~"
Obviously, going back to the guy that had the player turned into two halves, is something that they aren't fully ready to do, thus are given the choice to go with him or not; to which both have different, yet very grim results. . . If they say yes, Shadow Milk Cookie will carry them out of Silent Salt's domain, not before being founded out by the other beasts, causing the player to be caught up within the drama, eventually getting stabbed through the chest from all the excitement. . ! On the other hand, if they say no, Shadow Milk with become more persuasive toward the player, reminding them of their time spent apart. If they deny him enough times, his patience begins to wane as his persona falls apart. Becoming more demanding till he snaps, forcing the player to leave with him; but it was already too late, as the other beasts had shown up, who aren't too happy about his late arrival, and chaos ensues, leading to the player getting decapitated. . !(Woooo-)
~Final~
The player ends up back at the top of the altar in the Silver Forest, completely passed out from the shock. All the beasts, after freaking out over their dead body, head there in a heartbeat, arguing over who'd be the one to take the player home, till Mystic Flour decides enough is enough, ending the argument and declaring the Shadow Milk should be the one to take in the player since he found them first, further saying that arguing wouldn't get them anywhere and wants to start a meeting before anyone else could argue back. . . Fast forward to Shadow Milk's base, the player is getting some well needed rest as the beasts are discussing what to do next, although it isn't entirely apparent that they remember how they got there, having them around could be beneficial to their much bigger goals. After a bit of talking, Shadow Milk conjures up a wonderfully, awful, idea. . . keeping the player as their hostage. . . Think about it! From the outside world, they already have reputations for being cold and cruel monsters, if they found out they had a cookie with them, they'd go nuts! Plus, who'd be more inclined to get involved? None other than the new Guardian Of The Seal, and Ancient Hero herself, White Lily Cookie. . . Long story short, they all agree with the plan, as it will guarantee their escape, and check on the player not long after, who was still passed out
*In your dormant state, you lay unconscious as all five beasts watched you, each of them claimed a corner of the bed. As they watched, Silent Salt noticed a slight twitching in your hand, and instinctively embraced theirs into yours, rubbing their thumb on your wrist. Not everybody took it well, cause Eternal Sugar shooed their hand away just a few seconds later*
"*Ugh* Get your hands away from them, you're ruining their slumber. . !"
*She turns back to you as her mood shifts from annoyance to gentle delight*
"Awh~ They look so precious!~"
*Burning Spice leaned forward on the bed to get a better look at you, he seemed upset*
"How long are they gonna be like this. . ? It's been awhile now. . ."
"Roughly a few hours, but I believe they will be awake by tomorrow. . . Poor thing, must have scared them quite a lot "
". . . I think it'd be wise to not tell the pika about our plan, after all, we did get this far with them"
"Right you are, my dear comrade!~"
"If it were to get out that we were keeping them for our own sake, it'd surely shatter any trust we might have, and we don't want them defying us, now do we?~"
*The other beasts agreed*
"*hehehehe!* So it's settled!~"
*Running a hand up your arm, the trickster looked back at you with his signature smile*
"*Hehehehe!*Oh be sure to get all the rest you need, my little mousey!~"
"Cause you'll be in for quite the performance!~"
And that's pretty much how the story begins, the player is their little doll for the time being, none the wiser about the beasts' plans for hostage type deal with The Guardian Of The Seal
(holy crap we're almost done, guess it's time to talk about some background and bonus info)
~Background~
You are playing as the new resident of the Faerie Kingdom, a half-faerie who grew up in Crispia. There, they are known for two things, having cookie genetics and being kinda an a*s, everything makes them unique compared to other faeries, especially the lack of wings on their back, and their personality isn't exactly a pocket of sunshine either. So throw that in a blender, and you got yourself unnecessary fame that many don't want. The player receives the full "little sibling treatment" with faeries being overbearing and constantly getting doted on. Which, of course, sucks, day by day, no matter where they go, they can't escape it! The only escape they have from it all is their day job, working as the librarian's assistant is when they could finally have some peace and quiet, alongside the librarian, who became the player's good friend
Ok! Bonus Stuff!
With the player's kidnapping and life within the Silver Kingdom, a few bonus relationships the player can have are with Silverbell, Mercury Knight, Pure Vanilla, and of course White Lily. SB and Mercury are like childhood friends/crushes, having met the player before the events of the main game, making the player more acquainted toward them. White Lily and Pure Vanilla on the other hand, take a parental role, acting as the player's protectors much later in the game. Both are relatively more alien to the player, especially White Lily, but the two quickly insert themselves, insisting that they only want to keep the player safe(which makes sense considering their mission is to protect Cookiekind, and the player certainly counts) Out of the two, it's White Lily we end up getting the closest with(a mother + child bond if you will), as Guardian Of The Seal, she was horrified to find out the player was being held hostage by the beasts, and wanted to do anything in her power to save them. She also took a liking to their personality (which's fine I guess???)
It may not look like it, but this game is all about choice. It's about the ideas and importance of choice, how decisions affect your life, how even bigger decisions are often made by selfish people, and (I'm probably gonna get publicly executed for this!-) how a democracy should be handled, because let's be honest, we need a better one. . . We'll see plenty examples of a bad democracy among the beasts, as Shadow Milk, the proclaimed "leader" constantly makes choices for others, in reality only thinking about himself; it's through the player he learns to give the others a say in the matter. Speaking of which, it's the player's choices that will have the most impact as the story continues, like how most games do, the only difference is that the game provides a much wider buffet of choices, making the opportunities endless!
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If you're reading this then, Congratulations!
You Made It To The End!
Here's A Trophy!🏆(for both me and you cause omfg this took FOREVER! I'm happy with the final result but like- I never thought this would take like 5 weeks to make ;w;)
If I could go back in time, I would've definitely made this shorter. . !
If you any other ideas for this strange fangame, then feel free to let me know!~
Ok, bye!~^^
*decomposes into the soil*
#cookie run kingdom#cookie run x reader#cookie run kingdom x reader#cookie run#shadow milk cookie#shadow milk x reader#something to chew on while I work on my drafts. . .#i have..........so many;w;#eternal sugar cookie#eternal sugar cookie x reader#privated this post bc I wasn't even done with it and was saving it for AFTER the global strike and I posted it on accident-#mystic flour#mystic flour cookie x reader#burning spice cookie#burning spice cookie x reader#slient salt cookie#silent salt cookie x reader#y/n cookie#i put way too much effort into this. . .#i plan on finally finishing the next chapter of anything and everything all of time next that's also biting in the ass lately ;w;#pray for me guys🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽#other than that be on the lookout for my other projects#and as always stay tuned^^#crk x reader
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But Rhys took Feyre's choice away in ACOSF and is as bad as Tamlin
Disclaimer - I am going to state up front SJM shouldn't have told this story through Nesta's POV. It is an incredibly complex storyline in it's own right and deserved to be told through Feyre's POV.
However, fans tend to make several claims about the story that I want to either debunk or combat. You can still hate the storyline (I hate how it was told as well) but twisting canon to suit your own narrative isn’t right.
(I am using this timeline for the series, which is the most in-depth timeline I have ever found.)
Let's begin
What actually happened in canon:
Rhys and Feyre were actively attempting to have a baby since the end of ACOFAS (December 21st). Feyre announces her pregnancy to the group 16 days into the start of ACOSF. She says she is "two months along". ACOSF is canonically 10 months after ACOFAS. Meaning Feyre and Rhys conceive Nyx in August.
31 days into ACOSF Rhys and Feyre find out via Madja Nyx has wings. Feyre would be heading into her second trimester. Rhys knows the baby wings pose a problem (as does Madja). Madja informed Feyre the birth would be "more difficult" but does not state the baby will kill her. Rhys sets out on finding a way to save Feyre and the baby.
33 days into ACOSF Rhys goes to Drakon and Miryam to ask about the wings. They give him nothing but sad looks.
40 days into ACOSF Helion visits and is asked by Rhys about the wings and says he will look into it.
43 days into ACOSF Nesta, in a fit of rage, tells Feyre her baby is going to die and kill her.
So canonically Feyre does not know for 12 days. So, around two weeks, Feyre is unaware the chances she will die in labor are incredibly heightened.
That is really important, it is not months they are keeping this from Feyre. It also doesn't seem likely Rhys or any of the IC would have let Feyre give birth without knowing what was happening. It also seems likely Rhys was pending more information from Helion who had 3 days to look into things before Nesta had her outburst.
While again it's not explicitly said I believe SJMs implication is that Rhys was exhausting all efforts prior to telling Feyre. Which is something Feyre would have done herself, since we know she wanted Nyx, and rather then let Feyre's pregnancy be ruined by fear (especially if an answer was out there) Rhys decides to take the burden on himself.
Is it necessarily right? I don't think so, but is it done to specifically control Feyre? (Like Tamlin's actions were) No. It's done because Rhys cannot bring himself to take Feyre's happiness away from her. Feyre is described as being so happy in ACOSF, she finally has everything she's ever wanted. She has her mate, her family, her home, security, and is awaiting the arrival of her baby. Feyre has her gotten her "happy ending" and who would want to take that from someone? This is something Rhys was struggling with in ACOFAS, the idea that he does not deserve to be happy with Feyre.
I hate that we get it told through Nesta and Cassian's POV, because honestly this would have been a good Feysand plotline and would have dealt with the remaining issues that were hinted at in ACOFAS.
Commonly incorrect statements by the fandom
"Rhysand forced Feyre to stay pregnant because he valued the baby's life over hers" -
This is canonically not true. Feyre is the one who wanted to get pregnant. Ignoring this is missing the point entirely, Feyre wanted to start her family.
Second, while Rhys clearly loves Nyx it seems his concern was for her and not for Nyx:
Cassian squeezed Rhys’s shoulder. “Why won’t you tell her?”
Rhys’s throat worked. “Because I can’t bring myself to give her
that fear. To take away one bit of the joy in her eyes every time she
puts a hand on her belly.” His voice shook. “It is fucking eating me
alive, this terror. I keep myself busy, but … there is no one to bargain
with for her life, no amount of wealth to buy it, nothing that I can do
to save her.”
His concern is for Feyre and the fact that she is going to die while in labor. He doesn't even mention Nyx dying, and it's said Nyx will die in the labor as well.
"Rhys prevented Feyre from getting an abortion" -
So first we need to ask ourself, are abortions a thing in Pyrthian? We don't get any mentions of them and fae children are rare. I would suspect in Pyrthian they aren't a thing, but maybe in the human lands.
Second, by the time Rhys and Feyre find out about the wings it's been 31 days into ACOSF and when the baby was announced she was two months pregnant, which is frustrating because we don't know if she means two months on the dot or two months and a few days. It's then 15 more days till the wings are discovered she is anywhere between 11/12 weeks pregnant.
It's important to remember pregnancies are not defined by months, they are defined by weeks. If you are 11/12 weeks pregnant the abortion you get is more complicated then at 8 or 9 weeks. So it seems even if she could have an abortion (if that's a thing in Prythian) that she would have had to pass the fetal tissue.
Remember the problem isn't that the baby is sick or causing Feyre to be sick. Feyre is described as being healthy and radiant all throughout ACOSF. The pregnancy isn't the issue, it's the birth. The wings will supposably get caught and not be able to pass through the birthing canal. So even if she had an abortion those wings are getting caught and preventing the tissue from passing. We later see the size of the wings don't matter, because Feyre gives birth preterm and it still kills her.
And it will be challenging enough during a birth when the baby is alive but if they preform an abortion you're talking dead tissue being stuck in Feyre as they attempt to pull it out of her piece by piece.
That could kill her as well.
So when Rhys says "nothing I can do to save her life" he means it. As long as Feyre gives birth/passes those wings in her fae body she's dead.
The only in universe solution is for Feyre to transform back into an Illyrian form (I'll get into that later). That's it, nothing else could save her and in fact what happens is Nesta bargains for Feyre's life and then permanently changes her body to be Illyrian. So the solution was to shapeshift.
"Nesta told Feyre because she thought it was wrong"
That's not true, in fact Nesta agreed to say nothing and was later sorry for even telling Feyre. So no she did not tell Feyre because she thought it was an injustice.
Nesta was bitter and hurt by other things that happened (I am not going into it) and decided to hurt her sister back. She told her in the most brutal and awful way possible.
She easily could have caused Feyre to go into preterm labor and didn't care if that happened. If Feyre had gone into preterm labor with no solution to get the baby out then she would have died.
"Feyre's choice was taken from her"
So if we rule out abortion, and go with shapeshifting I don't see how anyone concludes that the 12 days Feyre does not know takes that choice from her. Even for the 12 days with the abortion idea, she still could have done it. She makes a choice not to, Feyre does not go into labor unaware of the risks.
Going back to shapeshifting, Rhys says this:
“So let her change back into an Illyrian to bear the babe.”
Rhys’s face was stark. “Madja has put a ban on any more shape-shifting. She says that to alter Feyre’s body in any way right now
could put the baby at risk. On the chance that it could be bad for the baby, Feyre is forbidden to so much as change the color of her hair
until after the birth.”
So originally it's Madja who says shape-shifting is banned but sorry I do not see how Madja is going to control Feyre. During the announcement scene we get this from Feyre:
Nesta angled her head at her sister. “So you can’t do magic while
pregnant?”
Feyre winced. “I can, but given my unusual set of gifts, I’m not
sure how it might impact the baby. Winnowing is fine, but some other powers, when we’re still so early in the pregnancy, could strain my body dangerously.”
Feyre is given the medical opinion of Madja on her doing magic and chooses to follow it.
And the nail in the coffin that it wasn't Feyre's choice is the birth scene itself:
“There is nothing we can do,” Madja said. “Cutting the babe out
of her will kill her.”
“Cutting it out?” Nesta demanded, earning a sharp glare from
Rhys.
Madja ignored her tone. “An incision along her abdomen, even
one carefully made, is an enormous risk. It’s never been successful.
And even with Feyre’s healing abilities, the blood loss has weakened
her—”
“Do it,” Feyre managed to say, the words weighted with pain.
“Feyre,” Rhys objected.
“The babe likely won’t survive,” Madja said, voice gentle but no-nonsense. “It’s too small yet. We risk both of you.”
“All of you,” Cassian breathed, eyes on Rhys.
“Do it,” Feyre said, and her voice was that of the High Lady. No
fear. Only determination for the life of the babe within her. Feyre
looked up at Rhys. “We have to.”
While it isn't explicitly mentioned, the scene prior is discussions about saving Nyx not about saving Feyre. Madja says "we risk both of you" implying their is a way to just save Feyre. That way would be shapeshifting, something Feyre is refusing to do in this moment. Rhys is the one who is objecting to the c-section and Feyre insists that "We have to". Feyre chooses to have the c-section and attempt to save her son.
Conclusion:
I don't think we can conclude Feyre's choice was taken from her, in fact it seems she made a choice not to shapeshift and save herself. That might feel like pro life propaganda and maybe it is (I don't know SJMs stance on this) but a mother choosing to go through with a risky pregnancy and delivery is still her making that choice. Just because it's not the choice you would make or like, doesn't make it any less of a choice.
It's really odd how people twist this storyline to fit a narrative of "Rhys is just as bad as Tamlin" and while I can understand the similarities, (both being born out of fear and trauma) it just isn't the same. Tamlin watched as Feyre became sicker and sicker, and ignored her. Tamlin forced Feyre back to the Spring Court after she told him she didn't want to be taken from Rhys and the IC. Tamlin slut shamed her during the HL meeting. Tamlin was actively attempting to control Feyre's behavior and get her to fit what he wanted for her.
Rhys found out horrible information (on top of all the other shit that was going on in ACOSF) about the life of his mate and child. His mate who was currently overjoyed at the idea of being pregnant and having a baby. And he wanted to find a way to save her before giving her the fear, anxiety, and distress he was suffering. It wasn't about controlling her, and it wasn't about having some super baby. It wasn't the right thing to do but he didn't do it out wanting to control Feyre. That's important information and something that shouldn't be twisted.
You can dislike it (as I've stated I hate it being told in Nessian POV) but you shouldn't twist things to fit your narrative.
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From what I've seen, a lot of fans weren't happy with the way Ghosts ended. While I personally would have preferred the Coopers to stay at Button House, I do understand why the Idiots chose to end it the way they did, though. The issue here, I think, is not Alison and Mike leaving but the way it was executed. The last episode of series 5 was all about the ghosts convincing Alison and Mike to stay so having them sell the house an episode later almost felt like a retcon because that twist was so sudden and seemingly came out of nowhere.
I've mentioned before that a longer run time would have probably fixed that issue but thinking about it, swapping the main storylines of series 4 (gatehouse) and 5 (selling part of the land) might have as well. And here's how:
Alternate Series 4: To get the gatehouse ready, Alison and Mike need money and look into selling some of the land they own. This sets up the plots with Barclay and the French buyers. Just like in 5x06, the company expresses interest in the house which leads to Alison finding out that Julian pushed her out of the window. In the end, Julian convinces her to stay and Alison and Mike sell the land but not the house.
Alternate Series 5 starts with them trying to make the gatehouse work, including all the shenanigans we've seen in series 4 but with added, "Omg we're going to have a baby," to raise the stakes because Alison and Mike really, really need this to work if they want to get the house ready for a child. And just like in series 4 everything seems to work out until the gatehouse gets struck by lightning and burns down. The series ends on an uncertain note: "The question is: what now?"
Which leads us to the final episode where Betty stays after Mia's birth to help out as much as she can because Alison and Mike have their hands full with the insurance company and trying to make ends meet. Nerves are frayed, tensions run high until at last the ghosts come to Alison on Christmas Day and tell her, "It's okay. You don't have to stay." They know it's not working out for Alison and Mike (Fanny did the math) and they know they can't ask them to stay, not when they have Mia to think of now. So they let them go.
The show would end the same way it did in canon but not quite so abruptly because Alison and Mike wouldn't leave because the ghosts are annoying and overbearing. They would leave because it's the right thing for them to do at this point - the only option they have left, really, and it would have given us a gentler goodbye.
#I firmly believe it all comes down to pacing#the ending of the show isn't bad#in fact it's beautiful and heartbreaking and wonderfully human#the problem is there was not enough time to set it up#and I think either a longer runtime for the Christmas Special#or switching the storylines of s4 and s5 would have solved that#bbc ghosts#mp bbc ghosts#bbc ghosts spoilers#bbc ghosts meta
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September Faves
Enjoy these September recs from the team 🥰
Best Bar in The World by @pridepages (book-verse)
@heybuddy-drabbles: Well, I can now confirm that I'm 100% cerified a pridepages fan. The way she picks the themes of the original source and uses them in a different setting is just absolutely flawless, the same happens in Little Pages. It's gives you the same feelings of reading rwrb but also reading something new and different all at the same time.
My Brother’s Keeper by @indomitable-love (book-verse)
@janetical: Written in Philip’s POV, it tackles all the canon events in a frustrating yet heart-wrenching way. I knew what I was getting myself into when I noticed the POV, but I really did hate Philip less at the end of this fic. Everything is entailed in this little story: unresolved daddy issues and grief, internalized homophobia and Philip acknowledging Henry’s first time. It will make you cry, and it will end on a somewhat happy note.
For all the world to see by @everwitch-magiks (book-verse)
@suseagull04: This is a fic I couldn't put down! I'm always a fan of Henry being a writer in fics (so the description alone caught my eye), and the mix of cute moments with firstprince (and David) and plot twists had me hooked! It's also such an interesting look at the life of a writer and how difficult it is for them to have anonymity, which was especially interesting to me because of the writers strike in Hollywood.
he looks up grinning like the devil by @coffeecatsme (book-verse)
@read-and-write-: Also known as the frat boy AU, if you want some hurt/comfort that really does what it says on the tin. Don't be afraid because it is completely worth it!
written in the stars by @indomitable-love (book-verse)
@heybuddy-drabbles: This is just so beautiful. It's basically about Henry mostly. I didn't expect the "past" part would hit so hard but it did. I had to put it down a few times because it was truly heartbreaking but it has a happy ending. Don't be fooled like I was about it being all fluff. It's not, it's very nostalgic and they are apart for a long time but I still recommend it because, like I said, it's really beautiful.
Deep Blue by @myheartalivewrites (book-verse)
@thesleepyskipper: This was just a stunning piece of writing that does such a wonderful job of evoking images of the seaside cliffs, swimming in the cove and spending lazy days in the cottage above. At the same time, we get all that delicious pining and FWB to lovers fun within that beautiful setting. The spicy bits are beautifully done too! Highly recommend!
Rae of Sunshine! (series) by @three-drink-amy @indomitable-love @clottedcreamfudge @everwitch-magiks @the-amber-fox @villiageidiot @athousandrooms @welcometololaland @dustratcentral
@rmd-writes: I couldn't choose just one fic from this series gifted to me so I'm recommending them all, but every fic very much deserves the recommendation! Nine food-themed fics featuring everything from an exploration of Henry's life through food to chef!Henry to craft services trailer!Alex to matchmaker!Pez to the world's most cursed coffee habits from some of my favourite authors (and people)
What Do I Know? by @three-drink-amy (book-verse)
@babiemonk: The angst is so good I cried
Screw Your Courage to the Sticking Place (and forget macbeth is a fucking tragedy) by @celaestis1 (book-verse)
@babiemonk: So amazing, I didn’t want it to ever end. The angst was so good. The kidfic element was perfect. Possibly the perfect fic.
@dot524: I absolutely loved this one. Such a ride and I enjoyed every bit of it. I also really enjoyed the character of Alex’s daughter. Lots of complexity, great story arc.
God Save the Blessed American President Mom by @zipadeea (book-verse)
@babiemonk: This fucking broke me I cried for at least an entire day
@suseagull04: This is such an introspective look at Alex and Ellen's relationship (and Ellen as a character in general) and it's so good!
like father by rizcriz (movie-verse)
@indomitable-love: A really lovely and sensitively told conversation between Oscar & Henry, where Oscar catches Henry sneaking out of the lake house. This one got me right in my emotions. Very healing.
Bite Your Tongue On Purpose by Woodsarelovely (book-verse)
@darwinsfinchesx: Coffee Shop AU with a twist. This fic has some of the best dialogue I’ve ever read. It’s delightful, funny, and the characterization is on point. It leaves a big smile on my face every time I re-read it.
seldom what they seem by @jumpinginmuddypuddles (book-verse)
@gwiazdziarka: Sleeping beauty AU, where they don't need to fight with witches or dragons but there are... other problems. I love modern-day solutions to fairy-tale problems and here it actually just makes everything more complicated.
Mr. Bodypillow by @inexplicablymine (book-verse)
@gwiazdziarka: Yes, I recently recommended this one as wip, but now it's complete and I just need to bring it up again, because it deserves all the attention. Alex and Henry have the most amazing relationship here that goes outside of usual norms. It's also the warmest and the sweetest thing that I've read in a while. And it has great ace representation.
@read-and-write-: Is Ace!Alex very special to you? Do you want to feel like someone is wrapping you in a soft blanket? Then Mr. BodyPillow is for you! It's beautiful and will leave you feeling all warm and fuzzy inside
come pick me up by @smc-27 (book-verse)
@suseagull04: This fic will both make you laugh and give you all the feels. An awkward first interaction when Henry requests an Uber ride leads to an instant connection and sizzling chemistry, all leading to a conclusion that, although satisfying, will leave you wanting more of this verse!
the winner takes it all by @dumbpeachjuice (book-verse)
@myheartalivewrites: A Tour de France, rivals cyclists AU! Keeping a lot of the book dynamics, Alex and Henry find themselves competing against each other on the Tour — and then falling into bed. This has everything: thrilling sports passages (even though I haven’t ever watched the Tour in my life!), romantic tension, a great read.
Love-Love by @smc-27 (book-verse)
@myheartalivewrites: a tennis AU set at Wimbledon, which obviously holds a special place in RWRB hearts. Alex and Henry as rival tennis players who’ve hooked up once, and then end up as doubles partners. A quick read that left me all warmed up from the inside.
a flicker, a spark by acastle (book/movie-verse)
@daisymae-12: Wow I don’t have the words to truly convey how much I loved this fic. It diverges from canon at Kensington and the events that follow are so beautifully written. This fic made me cry over an OC, made me feel seen when I recognized parts of my own cultural background woven into a story, made my heart ache for everything Alex and Henry have been through and made me tear up some more. This is one of the most heart-wrenching canon-divergence fics I’ve ever read and I know I’m going to be thinking about it for a long time.
Baby, All At Once (This Is Enough) by @iboatedhere (book-verse)
@daisymae-12: This fic is such a lovely look into Alex & Henry’s life post-canon and had me absolutely melting from the softness of it all.
Will You Brie Mine? by @cha-melodius (book-verse)
@daisymae-12: A fic featuring cheese and Henry being the one to sell it, what’s not to love? This was such a sweet fic and I loved the interactions between them! @cha-melodius always writes such amazing fics, and this was no exception.
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Soft!Bo Sinclair X Fem!Reader | Headcanons
>> PART 2
Author's note: Basically, how Bo's heart softened and spared you from death. And yeah I'm kinda fucked in the head for writing him this way, but HEAR ME OUT━
I consider doing a part 2 to extend the topic hihi (like, what life in Ambrose with him later looks like or smth + NSFW obviously), but these are my first headcanons, so please be considerate. <3
Warnings: it's a bit lenghty, sorry, canon typical violence, SFW (lot's of comfort)
Word count: 1.1k
Before your first "visit" to Ambrose, you and your friends set up a camp in the nearby woods - you were on a camping trip around Louisiana, for fun I guess or maybe during some break in your school/work
Bo watched your group from the tree line that night, he saw how poorly they treated you, how ignoring and demeaning they were towards you, why on Earth would you spend time with them?
He formed a strong opinion about those people right then and somehow took a little, tiny bit pity on you
When the car mysteriously broke down during the night, you along your companions took a walk to the small town nearby, searching the local mechanic
He was quick to find you, sitting on a pavement in front of a gas station
The man was charming, you admitted to yourself finally, especially when his bright irises traced your every step around the station
Bo looked enchanted, amazed by your personality, the way you talked, your appearance or all at once
But when some of your friends began to disappear few hours later, the true horror began
You stuck between the weirdly abandoned houses with two of your companions who were quick to seal your fate
They used handcuffs they found on the policeman wax figure to strap you to the metal pipe on the gas station - as a fucking offering to the killers chasing after the tourists
"Wh- THE HELL YOU'RE DOING?!"
"Creating a distraction I guess" they responded, trying to justify their actions, before running off, abandoning you to die alone
No matter how hard you struggled against the tube or the handcuffs, there was no way you could escape this without cutting your palm off
Obviously you wanted to avoid that option
And then, out of bloom, he appeared - dressed in a blue coverall, sweat drops shining over his forehead, tousled hair sticking to his temple - clearly running after your "friends"
Bo noticed you in an instant and a wide smile twisted his face - such a prize as you, being placed (offered even) in front of him like a gift? best day ever for our man Bo
And if you are considerably way younger than him, let's say early twenties - he would take an extra intrest in you (being more vulnerable for manipulation *COUGHS*), also extra points if you have daddy issues
Come on, this guy just wants to be worshiped by younger girl and tells her what to do, okay?
"My, my, what do we have 'ere?" he asked rhetorically, slowly lurching toward you "Little fuckers left ya behind? Tsk, tsk"
You froze in place petrified, but... he didn't seem to want to hurt you
Bo swooped your loose hair behind your ear, before carefully examining your form - all this time you stood still
Because what else could you do? You were immobilized, ffs
"Don't worry darlin', Imma take care of 'em, yeah? Just stay right here"
He placed a goodbye-kiss on top of your head, before returning to his "duties", the hunt wasn't over yet
So you stood there helpless, bound to the metal pipe outside of the gas station for God knows how long, wondering what will happen to your friends and what will happen to you
You took a peek inside the wax museum and soon enough you found out the town was in fact empty - there had to be a correlation, right?
Besides you saw the man with a weird mask and long black hair stab one of your companions in the neck - so the conclusion was quite simple
When Beauregard came back with a pair of tiny keys looped on his thumb, you gave him a merciful stare with glossy eyes, non verbally expressing the thought "please, don't kill me"
"You're a smart girl, ain'tcha? Gonna be good, yeah? That means 'no troubles', got it?" Bo spoke softly, his voice enchanting you with sweet venom
He unlocked the handcuffs and set you free, while you gently nodded your head, agreeing to being "good".
"T-Thanks" you massaged the bruised wrist, devouring feeling of "freedom", before he placed his big palm on your lower back
It was so warm
"Come, you must be tired, huh?" Sinclair guided you to walk along him, heading to the house on a hill
His house
Bo invited you inside, opening the doors and guiding you once again with his hand
If he only could, he would hold you, touch you, fondle your flesh all the time - you were fucking magnetic
You politely entered the house, feeling his presence on your back - at this point you wanted to punch yourself in the face for thinking that you're safe now, that he wouldn't hurt you - he probably just killed your friends
But the man took a weird liking to you, maybe it was your bargaining chip to survival?
It was already dark outside when Bo led you to his room upstairs
He caught a clean t-shirt from the drawer and placed it in your hands
"Why are you doing this? Why are you kind to me?" you kept your head down, fingers digging into the material of his shirt
There was a dead silence for a seconds before he responded
"Such a girl like you doesn't deserve to be treated like trash, yeah? You had shitty friends, doll"
You finally looked up at him
He was smiling, it was a gentle smile, a caring one
"Now, maybe we should finally rest, hm? It was a long day"
You did not protest when he pointed with his finger to the bathroom, where you could change into the clean clothes
Neither when he changed into his pajama and guided you towards his bed
The adrenaline and emotions from the whole day kept you on a constant survival mode - but of course, you thought about escape
Yet you didn't
Somehow you made it this far
But now you were lying in bed beside him, under one sheet
You tried to remain calmness, but the tears overfilled your tired eyes - you started crying, trying to remain as still as possible
But Bo felt your curled up form shaking and a few weeps could be heard though you tried to hide it
"Come 'ere" he spoke through the darkness of his room "come, sweetheart. There's no need to cry"
When you turned around to face him, his arm was already opened, inviting you into his embrace
And you foolishly succumbed into his touch
This should feel wrong, but it didn't
He was so warm
Bo brought you even closer to his chest, letting his heat radiate through you
Oh, to have him take care of you <3
You melted into his touch and soon after fall asleep in his arms
Bo never wish for his precious girl to cry like this again
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