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whispereons · 7 months

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Oracle!Reader Part 17

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 16, Part 18

PSA: I'm going to go through my followers and report + block porn bots. Porn bots look like users who have nothing posted. So if you don't want to be blocked please put at least one post saying that you are human.

Warning! This has your good old violence! This is a SAGAU imposter au so this to be expected.

The ice in your calves throbbed as spikes of pain fried the nerves every time you shifted into a better position. That's not even counting how the arrow in your chest jostled and wedged deeper into your skin.

"Let's start with some easy questions, yeah? Like your name, date of birth, and occupation."

You wished Yelan would just ask the important questions only. It would make your life so much easier. Who knows what information you could give her here that unknowingly connects to what they know about the 'Creator'.

Yelan's expression turns neutral before she steps closer. Your body tenses in preparation before she grabs your hair to pull your head up. Hissing in pain, you glare at her with animosity.

"Don't overestimate your body, Y/N." She drawl's as if speaking to a child. "I could just remove this pretty little mask and bring you back to Liyue for those with... more experience to handle."

Was it a natural thing for Hydro users to threaten you with torture? The thought makes you wanna laugh but you gasp in pain instead as she releases your hair harshly.

You didn't have time to be a smartass. Your mask being removed was the worst thing that could happen. The only question was, should you admit to being an Oracle or not?

"My name, as you already know, is Y/N. I don't have a last name, or maybe I do and I don't remember it. Same situation with my birthday, I just celebrate it whenever I feel like it."

Genshin always sends you a gift in the mail when it's your birthday. It's a good guess that everyone knows your birthday, having the same birthday would be suspicious. What if it's like your face in which no one else can share the same birthday with you? Far-fetched but better safe than sorry.

"I'm an adventurer who signed up a few days ago. I have my handbook and commission list to prove it if you want to check."

There was a chance she knew about your Oracle job from when you had to stay at the Teahouse, but you won't offer that bit of information unless she specifically asks for it. Far too many of your own victims on Earth screwed themselves over when they revealed things only to learn you were shooting in the dark.

"Quite the convenient story. No last name or set date of birth means you must be from one of the villages. Name it."

Yelan gets comfortable resting against a tree as Shenhe stands close to you with a cold glare. The questions were still easy but you didn't want to be stuck here any longer. You needed an escape.

"I was born in Inazuma, one of the less-tamed islands called Kannzaku. But after the recent war, all the people that were still living either died or left. I chose to leave as well."

Yelan hums at that, you aren't sure if she truly believes it or if she's just making a mental note to look into it later.

"Then how did you manage to catch the Alcor of all ships to bring you here? They aren't one to take passengers along easily."

Has she been watching that early on or did she trace your path that far back? If so, she may even gain information about your time in Inazuma. Best to keep everything aligned with the most public knowledge.

"The Yashiro Commission helped me find a ship. I don't see how my upbringing in Inazuma has to do with whatever reason you have for attacking me."

Flexing your feet, you try to adapt to the pain. Yelan nor Shenhe were going to let you go even if you did answer everything correctly. That was a fact just based on how much trouble you gave them.

Yelan keeps a watchful eye on you as she stays silent. You know this tactic, you've used it before. Staying silent to make your hostage squirm and anger till they burst. That, or slowly die in place from any wounds.

This wasn't a problem for you. Every second you stood there in silence was just more and more time for you to get used to the pain. The arrow was too deep to remove, you would bleed out and become weaker so it'll have to stay stuck inside your skin.

Yelan and you could have gone all day, but Shenhe wasn't nearly as patient or stubborn.

"Ask your question and finish your job already, Yelan. If you take any longer then I'll just exterminate them." Shenhe moves to stand directly in front of you with her weapon raised.

She points it directly at Yelan. "And if you try to stop me, I'll kill you too."

Seems they aren't as in sync as you originally thought.

Yelan sighs and moves from her spot. It seems even she knows better than to trifle with the bomb in the shape of a crane. The grass crunches beneath Yelan's heels as the trinkets on her jingle.

Lifelines wrap around your wrists and waist and she pulls you forward. Nails dig into your skin through her gloves making you bite your tongue in slight pain. The pretty azure color is coated with crimson as emerald eyes stare into your soul.

"What's giving you the confidence to claim to be the Creator's oracle? If you don't repent and shed this flimsy mask, the Qixing will have you sacrificed in the city's center."

Your heart stops at those words as flashes of the sacrifices you witnessed in Inazuma come to mind. Taking off your mask would get you killed, but not taking it off would also get you killed. Torn between laughing and crying, you hated the fact that once again you were stuck in a ‘damned if you do, damned if you don’t’ situation.

Frowning at the strange expression on your face and the lack of confession, Yelan sighs with frustration and even a bit of hatred. “Not willing to speak even now, huh? Then my job is nearly done. Ningguang can deal with you instead, I’ll just reap my share of the rewards after you die.”

Patting your now bloody cheek condescendingly, she turns away from you. Her lips can be seen moving from her side profile but you could care less about what she's saying.

All you can focus on is the feeling of being talked down to. Being treated like a child, being treated like an idiot. The inner lining of your cheek begins to ache from how hard you're biting on it.

Specific personas you've created and used in your work would include ditzy and dumb acts. The patronizing tone they would speak to you with was annoying but tolerable. But this? This?!

Lips curled into a snarl, you look up at the woman with a boiling glare matching your equally hot temper. Yelan's features seem to continuously morph and switch with a man who would speak to you in that exact same demeaning way.

"Where the hell do you get off speaking to me like this?"

Yelan shuts her mouth but doesn't move her snobbish eyes off your form. Shenhe holds her polearm tighter as she keeps her eyes on you. Well aware of just how stupid, rash, and careless your next actions are, your brain tries to calm down.

But the moment you lift your bloody chin to look up, all you can see is condescending eyes taunting you.

"What the fuck is giving YOU the confidence to indirectly call yourself extraordinary by calling your deceased teammates 'ordinary folk'?! You only got to your position from the charity and sacrifices of other people!"

Breathing heavily from the anger and strain from yelling, you wipe the blood on your chin away. You were giving it your all to survive and weasel your way out of this situation. That's what you have done all throughout your time in Teyvat.

It wasn't fair, it wasn't right, it shouldn't be possible that all your efforts would be for naught from just one person. Everything you've worked at all this time, gone, just because Yelan and Ningguang couldn't mind their own fucking business.

"You can inflate your ego all you want with clever schemes and working solo but that doesn't take away from the fact that you would be dead without everyone around you. Your ancestry of heroes, Ningguang's patience and willingness to wait for you to train and move on from your friend. Even the lessons you learned on how you aren't invincible didn't seem to click until you lost your whole team!"

Grinning widely with malice and blood staining your teeth and lips crimson, you finished your jab. "You know? The same team you basically disowned and dissociated yourself from after they died. After all, you’d rather isolate yourself instead of properly acknowledging your team's talent and appreciate the life they lived no matter how short!"

Your mouth felt dry and all you could taste was copper. The shards in your calves were slowly melting making your legs. A vast contrast to the burning anger you harbored. But it seems you aren't the only one feeling this way.

Yelan hasn't moved from her spot but the look she has on her face is clear as day. Her neutral and taunting smile has dissolved into a murderous expression. Viridian eyes sharpen almost like an arrow and gritted teeth grind together. Your blood stains her blue gloves much like how you successfully stained her invincible reputation.

As good as it felt to get back at her, the slightest bit of guilt plagued you. That blow concerning her teammates was low, even if it was true. It's a bitter truth that she probably still struggles with. Living knowing that someone had to be sacrificed for your life pushed you to the brink more than once. Even still, you can't find it in yourself to take back those words, to apologize.

After all, you could never disregard the help and place your dad had in your life even with his early death.

The Hydro vision on Yelan's side glows as she takes long strides to your trapped form. No longer summoning her bow with flair, she points it at you. Bracing yourself with bent knees, you flex your fingers preparing to summon your sickle and escape the disadvantageous position.

"GRAH!"

A huge leaping rocky creature almost flattens Yelan who swiftly dodges by jumping backward.

"GRAW!" What you can now identify as a Geovishap roars loudly and slams his hulking fist onto the ground. The impact sends Yelan flying through the air and the ice trapping your feet shatters.

Not even allowed a second to enjoy your newfound freedom, Shenhe lunges either polearm poised at the ready. Grinning, your sickle clashes with her weapon as you shift to a more comfortable position.

Fighting both women would be impossible for you, they've trained for years. But it was still within your limits to defend and escape from one. Thanks to the Geovishap, you now have been granted that possibility.

The lingering shards of ice in your calves keep the blood somewhat clogged but the blood dribbling out down your ankle is uncomfortable. Ignoring it to the best of your abilities, you dig your shoes into the ground as your sickle repeatedly blocks her attacks.

The spear's minor side curve gets hooked onto your sickle leading to a stand-off. Planting your feet deeper into the ground, you focus on pushing against Shenhe as she does the same. Your arm strains with the force needed as Shenhe's full power begins to overpower you.

Not that you weren't expecting that.

Shenhe fought a god as a child and would have won if Cloud Retainer hadn't cut it short. She grew up in these mountains fighting, training, and eating whatever she was given. Cloud Retainer didn't raise a child, she groomed a soldier.

Your wounds ache as your body is pushed back. Inhuman strength wasn't something you ever encountered on Earth. This wasn't the city where you could pull a dirty trick and get away. Wasn't there anything else you could do?

Perhaps it was the determination you felt to stand your ground. Or maybe it was the desperation you felt to escape and live. You couldn't be completely sure as power mingled with your flesh, giving you a burst of energy.

The air grows cold and the ground shakes beneath your feet. The Electro wrapping around your sickle crackles louder, nearly masking the creaking of the ground. Geo petrifies the ground as it travels from your feet to hers.

A dark umber-colored stone traps her feet with cracks of topaz. Shenhe frowns and tries to rip her feet out but is stunned when it doesn't work. The petrify only moves to consume her body faster.

Knowing that you must be the only reason for the Geo, you take advantage of the newfound power. Breaking the grapple, you move out of her polearms range. Her braids loosen as she tries to lunge at you even with her torso completely petrified.

In some last-ditch effort to kill you, Shenhe holds her polearm in one hand and prepares to throw it at you. Not a moment sooner, the petrify entraps that hand locking it in place.

"Don't run away, demon!" Shenhe shouts in fury as her braid loosens. Her face is permanently etched as a harsh scowl and furrowed brows when the Geo overcomes her completely.

Not wanting to waste the precious and limited time you have, you turn on your heels and run away. In a split decision, you run to the left, the same direction where you first met Shenhe at that hilichurl camp.

Greenery and foliage are trampled on as you push past the burning pain. You pass the threshold of the stone and a large thud catches your attention from behind you.

Curious, you look back to see the Geovishap be pierced by Hydro projectiles. The blood and water splatter and mix on the ground as the Geovishap collapses. A weak gurgle of a roar is all that could be heard.

Glazed eyes holding no consciousness, no life, stare at your wide, sympathetic ones before crumbling into dust. A different pair of wrathful green eyes stare back at you instead.

There's no time to teleport. You couldn't fight in this state. Running was your sole option and your body moved on its own.

The river water dampens your shoes as you run, and the moonlight filters through the leaves of the trees above you. Slimes peer at you curiously as you avoid running into them.

The only thing you could properly focus on was not tripping and not getting hit by the arrows raining down on you.

Between your honed instincts and Teyvat’s warnings, you manage to dodge the vast majority. Yelan wasn't in the position she is today without mastering her archery.

Pain and most likely a bruise bloom when her Hydro-infused arrow hits your shoulder. It's not deep so you quickly pull it out before it gets lodged like the one in your chest.

The chase is intense as your ragged breaths nearly mask the sound of her heels following you. More arrows cut your clothes and graze your skin.

The sight of the red staining the cloth makes bitterness spread and fester deep within you.

Just why couldn't you bleed gold?

Now in Nantianmen, you pass by the hilichurl camp where you met Shenhe in. You must be getting closer to the ruins, maybe you could lose Yelan in the twists and turns of the rundown ruins.

But that plan quickly is thrown out the window when the only exit is a large drop-off, small broken ruins with broken ruin pieces serving as platforms on the large river. Treasure hoarders roam that area from what you remember.

To your right is a large mountain, climbable but no doubt time-consuming. On the left is where the ledge is. The only thing in front of you is a path leading to a boss, that you can’t be certain would recognize you or not. And above it would just be another cliff only serving to prolong the chase.

Faced with the choice, the shallow water washes the crusting blood off your legs. Climb the mountain and be shot down by Yelan, or glide off the edge into Tianqiu Valley and be shot down by Yelan or the treasure hoarders.

Aren’t you spoiled for choice?

That sarcastic thought is quickly swept away as you narrowly avoid an arrow that hits the water. Only sparing a glance behind you, you move to the side avoiding the follow-up arrow. The click of Yelan’s heels is replaced with the sloshing of water as she runs after you.

She dodges the Cryo that a large Cryo slime shoots at her as you back away with urgency. Before you can make a panicked split decision, a new Geovishap tackles her right into the Cryo slime.

The combo of being frozen and shattered seems to knock the wind out of Yelan as she falls onto the ground and slowly rises to her feet. The Cryo slimes, now with the addition of another that popped up out of nowhere and this new Geovishap, form a circle around Yelan.

The circle is tight and her soaked form only hinders her further. The wounds and bruises she sustained from the previous Geovishap are still visible.

You recognize this as an opportunity to escape.

The sound of Yelan’s grunts and groans of pain as she’s thrown around out of sight are washed away as you pull the game screen up. It loads slowly but you aren’t too worried, Yelan is spent after chasing you and fighting so much today.

Once the map is loaded, you quickly swipe to the statue of the seven. Selecting it you press the teleport button and wait. You wait with bated breath and expectant eyes to finally be free of this whole battle. Yet, as the screen stays the same and a whole minute passes by with no response, your heart pounds with fear.

Trying to deny the worst possibility you press the teleport button again. You press it again and again and again with no results. The sounds of the Cryo slimes being splattered onto the ground make you suck in a harsh breath.

In one last desperate attempt, you close the game screen and open it again. Repeating the same actions before with no difference in the result.

It’s refusing to work.

That revelation fills you with a mix of dread and a manic mess of anger combined with sadness. A disbelieving laugh escapes your mouth in a low tone before you sprint towards the closest escape option. There’s no more time to waste, the petrify is going or already has worn off and Yelan won’t be occupied with that Geovishap forever.

Your scratched-up and coarse fingers haphazardly grasp the grooves of the mountain to climb as fast as possible. It’s painful to put your body weight onto your legs but it must be done. That pain is almost completely blinded by the agonizing burn of when the arrow in your chest is pushed further in whenever you accidentally scrape the wall.

The air becomes thinner as you climb to the halfway point, your digits grasp onto the next protruding rock and it’s too late when you realize that it’s too loose. The rock slips out, hitting your face and temporarily blinding you as your other grip becomes weaker.

Dangerously swaying backward, you stop breathing and scramble to hold on to something. When your cut-up fingers finally grasp something more stable, your face hits the rock and it makes the blood from the wounds Yelan’s nails left leave a splotch.

Pain and sharp aches rack your body but you grit your teeth and continue climbing. The mountain seems to almost vibrate and you look down to see Yelan be smashed onto the wall. A thrilling chill of happiness runs down your spine at the sight of Yelan getting pummelled. You can only hope it scars her the way her injuries most likely will scar you.

The struggle is finally over as your fingers dig into the grass at the top and haul yourself over the ledge. Crawling with the last bit of your strength, you lay on your back and breathe in as much of the thin air as you can. Sharp and burning pain electrifies your nerves as you stare up at the night sky.

Just how shitty was your luck to end up like this?

Gingerly touching your head as the world briefly spins, you open the game screen. Maybe, just maybe it will work now that you are away from the battle. Perhaps it didn’t let you teleport in some stupid rule of ‘no teleporting when enemies are nearby’ or ‘you can’t teleport in battle’. You are well aware that Genshin never had that rule but you wanted to hold onto some hope.

Of course, it doesn’t work. Hope at the end of the day is just that. But being away from a life-or-death situation at least brings back some clarity of mind. You select a different teleport waypoint and try to teleport. It doesn’t work, and after trying nearly all of the waypoints you close the screen and groan in frustration.

You close your eyes and just try to breathe, to relax your heart that just won’t stop beating frantically. It becomes suspicious when your blood runs cold and your stomach churns in a familiar feeling of danger. With anxiety-fueled fear, you roll your aching body a few feet away as the wind caresses your skin trying to help you.

Dirt and grime cling onto your clothes and make your open wounds itch as it enters your body. But your attention is pulled away by a polearm piercing the spot you were lying at just a moment ago. Frantic yet oh so tired, you pull yourself onto your sore feet and stare warily as the cloud of dirt dispenses.

As much as you dared to dream that maybe it was Xiao, the long white hair and crane-patterned sleeves aren’t surprising. Disappointing nonetheless though.

Shenhe grips her weapon tightly as she stays in place, the rock she struck in pieces beneath her. You can already imagine what kind of damage she would have done if you didn’t move away in time. She doesn’t lift her head as she mumbles something.

Not willing to move closer but also too cautious to move away in fear of triggering her, you stand in place. Her head lifts up to let iridescent eyes glare at your beat-up and bleeding body. “I hate you.” She mutters as strands of hair droop to frame her face.

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate-” She mutters endlessly from her position as you begin to take slow steps backward. The red rope tying her hair is already gone and the ones on her clothing are close to slipping. Most of them are ripped and gone anyway.

Shenhe harshly rips the last of the red rope off and gracefully twirls her polearm into the correct position with a look cold enough to freeze your blood. Actually, that’s just the frost creeping from her feet…

“I hate you!” Shenhe’s yell is swift and her weapon is merciless as her attack pattern changes from the elegant crane style to one more comparable to a raging bull. You hurriedly summon your sickle in the nick of time.

Your hands are shaky from the exhaustion weighing down on your body. Combining that with Shenhe’s erratic wrath attacks makes your movements clumsy.

Each narrowly raised block and shaking deflection eat away at the little energy you have left.

It's not enough.

That fact becomes more and more obvious as your grip on the sickle gets weaker. What other fate awaited you when being hunted down by Shenhe who has fought and trained nearly all her life?

The past battles you've been through are viewed in a new light. Your first fight with those treasure hoarders led you to rely more on your wit than skill. The first Fatui encounter with Heizou had you more as a support than an attacker. Beisht wasn’t even attacking you and you struggled against the elements more than anything else on Beidou’s ship. After taking the commission to save Yiran from the kidnappers, you teamed up with Xingqiu and Chongyun for every battle after that.

Even afterward when you were forcibly separated and Cloud Retainer strangled you, it was the other Adepti that pulled her off. The only battles after that were your hit-and-runs with Yelan and Shenhe. Have you ever actually fought and won on your own since that first scuffle with the treasure hoarders? They even ran away after you threatened them without touching them!

The realization of your less-than-stellar fighting capacity makes your movements sloppier, your body feels heavy with the weight of your journey. All the injuries you sustained, even the ones already healed, seem to chip away at your resolve.

You were tired. You’ve been tired for a long time. It would be accurate to say that you were tired of being tired.

Shenhe’s emotions bleed through her fighting style, the wrath she’s consumed by makes her attacks rough but misaligned. Slices that should have cut deep into your shoulder or slashes across your unguarded areas miss their mark. Each one only makes her more aggravated leading to even sloppier motions.

A terrible cycle that was helping you out enough that you use your new Geo power to petrify her feet. But Shenhe has already experienced this, her spear is waved erratically around her keeping you away.

This rare chance of escape isn’t lost on you, turning on your heels you book it and narrowly avoid the polearm thrown your way. The graze makes the already scraped side bleed heavier, and the burning feeling of pain doesn’t subside.

Running across the greenery and leaving a trail of dotted red on the dark grass, you don’t bother trying to recall where you might be. There was never much of a reason to climb all the way up here as a player and you had no time to stop to observe the map.

The rocks, trees, and flowers blur in a shadowy hazy mess. You can’t be sure whether it's from all the blood you lost, the pain that plagues your body or the starless night sky. A single rock jutted out of the rock trips you and the pain blinds you as you lay on the ground.

Stumbling back onto your feet, you hold a nearby branch with a death grip as your body sways and your vision spins. This intense lightheadedness could only be from blood loss, one would think that it’s a shame how easily you can tell blood loss apart from any other injury it might be.

The sound of water splashing catches your attention and you do your best to follow it quickly without any more falls. The toll of the adrenaline that was coursing through your veins is starting to settle and you know full well how nasty it can be. A small lake appears in your vision and you collapse onto your knees once close enough.

A group of Cryo slimes begin to make their way towards you from the middle of the lake, or maybe it was Hydro slimes? The wind is both sweet relief on your clammy skin and a rude reminder of your aching wounds. Crawling to the side where you can only hope that Shenhe won’t find you as easily, you let your bag fall off your shoulders.

The bag has holes but as it’s not a normal bag, nothing has fallen out. To your immense relief, of course, the medkit you pull out is your only hope of surviving just a little longer. The slimes gather around you curiously, even this close the only thing you can be sure of is their blue coloring.

Ignoring them, you apply the disinfectant, ointment, bandages, and anything else that might help you with your numerous injuries. Most of them were bandaged fine with you skipping the minor wounds to not waste your precious resources, but it was the major two damages that you couldn’t touch.

The remainder of the ice spikes in your calves were slowly melting which, unfortunately, was only leading to more bleeding. The arrow in your chest already made breathing hurt like hell. There was no way you were gonna risk yanking either of the two out. With the bleeding slowed down, your body feels a bit better but the fatigue anchors you to your spot.

Surrounded by the slimes and gently showered by the moonlight your head rests against the closest solid structure. Thoughts of what kind of disease, danger, and death you might experience are washed away. The rippling reflection of the moon on the lake lulls your mind into a haze. Eyelids fluttering shut, you can no longer resist the urge to just rest...

Oh boy, finally done and over with. It actually had more but I decided to cut it here and post the rest with the other parts next chapter. It may be shorter than this one. Or not, who knows. Thanks to my patient editor @serpent-benediction who edited this today. I hope everyone enjoyed the differences yet similarities between Y/N and Yelan. I did write this on Google Docs rather than on Tumblr so maybe the format is weird. Tell me if this one is too dense looking or any other opinion on it. Edit* Guess which dumbass forgot to add the read more option? Taglist - Remember those that are in italics are those who I couldn't tag! I appreciate all the comments and reblogs! Ya'll can be so funny and sweet at the same time. @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @millienolife @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0, @esthelily, @t-rex-red, @ck123, @steadybreadbluebird, @118gremlin, @stratonia, @time-shardz, @farelady-fate, @valeriele3, @francisnyx, @byakuren100

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retrograde-tonic · 2 months

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The TWST Dorm Leaders Catch You…

Repost: from Sept. 2022 from my old blog; Anarchy-Archives. The post did well enough that I thought I should put it back up here and reshare it <3

GN reader who’s artistically trained. The boys catch you immersed in your craft, whether that craft is painting, cooking or dancing…

Heartslabyul:

Painting the rose garden on canvas. It was the perfect afternoon. Classes were still in session except for yours; Crewel had let your class out early when someone’s potion exploded. You got off unscathed, so you wandered into Hesrtslabyul’s rose garden with your art supplies, fully intending to paint a portrait of Grim but with the lovely ambiance as background, when a lone rose bush caught your eye. You immediately sat down adjacent to it and set up your canvas, mapping out all of its details. You had completed a couple roses so far and were fully immersed in your craft, not realizing classes had let out, when you heard a voice behind you…

“My, what do we have here?” Riddle stood behind you. You gasped, nearly dropping your brush. Riddle stood over your work, looking impressed. “I had no idea you were so talented. The shade of red translates perfectly from real life to canvas. I might like one of my own, do you take commissions?” You nod, smiling. Riddle explains he would love a painting to capture the unbirthday parties he hosts. “You don’t have to draw all the guests, but the decorations and the rose garden would be lovely. Of course, if you don’t mind.”

Savanaclaw:

Gymnastics. It’s a sport, yes, but it’s also an art in its own right. It’s something you grew up with, so it’s something you go back to when you have a bad day. Tumbling is a fantastic workout, and rhythmic gymnastics with music in the background always fills your soul. You were perfecting some of your favorite tumbling passes in an extra room of the Savanaclaw Magift Stadium. You added in some elegant twists and turns, alongside the back-handsprings and front-flips. You finally landed a pass you liked, and were only interrupted when they said…

“Oi, herbivore. What are you up to?” Leona was leaning against the doorway, looking sleepy. You give a light chuckle and explain that you were tumbling. Leona raises an eyebrow; “I didn’t know you could do that.” You nod, explaining that you put years of practice into it, and that you do it when you’re stressed. It’s better to keep up the craft. Leona smirks and then stifles a bit of a yawn; “You woke me up from my nap, but what you’re doing is vaguely interesting. I wouldn’t mind watching for a bit. Go on, impress me.”

Octavinelle:

Singing. It was past closing time in the Mostro lounge, and you were helping Azul clean up. Azul, Jade and Floyd were locked in Azul’s office, and you had taken to wiping down the tables. You began to hum as you worked. Your humming became slightly louder, your voice echoing off the walls of the empty room. Enjoying the sound of your vibrato in the room, you add lyrics in; now singing at a decent volume. You were exclusively focused on your vowel shapes and your work on the tables until you heard someone clear their throat behind you, making your song come to an abrupt halt…

“Well, this is quite the surprise.” Azul was standing a ways away from you, smiling big. You thank him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks a bit. “I didn’t know you could sing so well. You’re clearly trained.” Azul steps up closer to you and adjusts his glasses. You nod, explaining that you had had lessons in the past, and that it’s something you’ve practiced for many years. His face lights up so fast and so bright when he hears that, you can practically see the Madol-signs swimming in his eyes. “You know, I would love to have you perform here at the Mostro Lounge. May we make a deal?”

Scarabia:

Cooking. You had helped Jamil bring supplies to the kitchen while he was off tutoring Kalim. While you were there, you noticed the perfect set of ingredients to make your favorite dish. It was a quicker one, but flavorful nonetheless. You get to the prep work, chopping the vegetables with ease using your perfected knife skills. You heat up the pan and toss the veggies in, sautéing them with a plethora of spices. The alluring smell of the aromatics must have drawn someone in, because they startled you when they said…

“It smells soooo good in here!” You whirl around, cooking spoon still in hand, and greet Kalim’s massive smile. You thank him enthusiastically, matching his energy. “What are you making?” He steps up to peer into your pan. You explain what you’re making, and that it’s your favorite; “I could make enough for multiple people, if you’re interested.” Kalim’s eyes light up. “That would be awesome! I can have Jamil poison test it, even though I know you won’t do anything to hurt me. He can have some too!” You chuckle lightly, thinking about Jamil’s distaste for Kalim enjoying cooking other than his own. “I’ll have to go fetch him! And thank you for cooking! I can’t wait to try it!”

Pomefiore:

Dancing. It was early in the morning, and you were alone in Pomefiore’s ballroom. You couldn’t decide what to do for your workout, so you threw in your earbuds and put on some music to dance to. It was a bit early for more energetic dances, so you put on a playlist of any song with 3 beats per measure, and you began waltzing. Well, sort of. It was your own version of a waltz, with a lot of ballet influence. It was very free flowing and it spanned the entire room. Jumps, spins, dips…whatever your heart desired in the moment. You hadn’t performed in years, but your body still knew how to glide over the floor. You danced your heart out for some time, until you saw a figure standing in the doorway from the corner of your eye…

“My my, I didn’t know you could dance like that.” You stop dancing abruptly, dropping your arms to face the man in the doorway. Vil stands there, smiling as he speaks. Facing him entirely, you shut your music off, returning his glowing smile and accept his praises with ease. “If only Epel could move like you do…” he sighs, entering the room. You give a polite chuckle; “I’ve been doing this for years, so…” Vil scoffs lightly and clicks his tongue as you apparently state the obvious. “I can see that. What other styles of dance do you know?” he inquires. As you go through the styles you know, he steps up and takes your hand; “will you dance with me? I’ve been looking for a dance partner, and you seem to be the perfect fit.”

Ignihyde:

Animation. You were huddled in Ignihyde’s lounge, staring daggers at your device. You had worked on this animation for about a month now, but something wasn’t adding up. You gripped your drawing pencil in between your teeth as you stared at the animation, slowing it frame by frame. You flipped the canvas back and forth, and then you caught it. The blinking was uneven and unrealistic. You announced your victory with a little excited screech, which must have tipped them off…

“Animating again? For that new game series?” You look up from your device to see Idia standing above you. “Can I see?” You nod and play the animation. Idia’s eyes instantly light up. “Wow, talk about some S-tier stuff!” You smile and thank him. He asks you to play the animation again and again, seemingly analyzing each frame. “I’ll have to show Ortho! He’ll love it! If…if that’s okay with you?” His excited confidence falters a tad, but he regains it when you smile; “I would love to show him! You’ll have to call him over!” He grins, appreciating your acceptance. “You’re so lucky you’ve been working on that project! I can’t wait to play it when it’s done!”

Diasomnia:

Playing a classical instrument. This was your escape. You love what you do, and every time you find yourself completely lost in the music. The rooms in Diasomnia are lovely in terms of echoing acoustics. Not so great for practicing and being critically aware of your raw sound, but great for an ego boost. Today, you had decided to pull out a piece by Clara Schumann. One you hadn’t played in a while. Midway through, the tempo changed; adagio, it said, and you fluttered your eyes closed. Your fingers remembered the section well, and they took over while your eyes were closed. Your passionate playing echoed off the walls until you heard the door open loudly…

“I haven’t heard that piece in years.” Malleus’s shadow stood in the doorway, a faint smile on his face. He sounded quite nostalgic when he spoke, and he spoke slowly; “Schumann, huh?” You nod, confirming his guess. He enters the room silently, and steps closer to look at the music. “You have good taste,” he eventually says, reading the music silently to himself. You smile, and thank him. “We should play a duet sometime,” you offer. His face lights up at the request, and he accepts graciously; “I would love to hear your music blend with mine.”

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dinodanicus · 3 months

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you can skip this wall of text its just about the scam this illustration was involved in.

This fairly ordinary illustration of two hands holding was involved in a very weird and convoluted scam. Last month I was commission to illustrate this image for invitations meant to go out for a supposed wedding anniversary coming up in March. The whole commission seemed odd to me I mainly draw dinosaurs and aliens. Not many people know I also draw people but the buyer who called himself Petterson Reid was offering to pay 300 up front and 200 after the work was finished. A nice offer for what was a very simple illustration. I took the job and sent him a very rough sketch of the hands to show him what the final image might look like. He liked the sketch and told me to finish the image after he sent the first payment I went ahead and finished the image that night. I held onto the picture to see if he would really send the 300 dollars first. The buyer wanted to send a check by mail which is weird but I thought he might have been a boomer who didn't understand how to use PayPal. His emails and text seemed like something my grandmother would write very proper and overly polite. I was fairly suspicious of him and waited to see if a check would actually be delivered. To my surprise a check did arrive a week later from Petterson Reid except it was for 2,790 dollars. knowing this was far too much money I asked him if it was a mistake. He said the extra money was for a PayPal invoice to the printers involved in the invitations. He wanted me to use the extra money on the check to pay the printers on his behalf. Again very weird but I chalked it up to an old person who didn't know how to pay online. I cashed the check the next day, since it was from an out of state bank they were putting it on hold for 3 days to see if the funds would clear. I told the buyer about the three day waiting period and asked for the invoice I was suppose to be paying and he went absolutely ape shit. He claimed I was trying to steal his money and was threatening to pursue legal action I was completely shocked by the change in attitude. I had to mute my phone because he kept sending wave after wave of threatening texts. At this point I was 90% sure this was some sort of scam but when I called the bank they said there was nothing to do until the hold expired. I was confident it wouldn't then to my surprise the check cleared and the money was in my account. At this point I had the finished artwork and the money so I wanted to get this crazy asshole on his way so I wouldn't have to deal with him anymore. I told him to send the invoice for the printer and I would pay it with the money on the check then I would send the picture and our business would be done. This prick sends some half assed looking invoice with a payable link on PayPal. When I try to pay, it says payment will be held till Feb 7th. Apparently this date is too late for the printers so now that processing payment has been canceled by the printer in favor of a new payment process through Zelle. I was trying to figure out what was going on, if its a scam what is the take the entirety of the check was still in my account it didn't even say it was pending. I go to pay on Zelle and discover the 2,790 dollars has been rescinded by the bank. I call and learn this ass hair had sent a forged check to the bank in an effort to have me pay these fake invoices with my own money. He guessed the bank would deposit the check without fully vetting it for the standard 10 days since I'm a long time member. He knew he had until about five a clock that day before the bank would catch the discrepancy. He was posing as the printer in order to scam 4,740 dollars from me through both attempted payment methods. luckily for me I'm broke as hell right now and didn't have the money in my own account to cover either payment with out the check. everything has been taken care of now I just thought I better share this story since I've never seen a scam like this before. It took an entire month for him to essentially get nothing I really don't know what to think of any of this its such a weird scheme.

#my art #illustration #hands #sketch

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prettyboykatsuki · 7 months

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ROTTEN FRUIT, CHERISHED SWORD | TARTAGLIA / AJAX

✮ tags ; fem!reader, dead dove: do not eat, yandere!childe, genshin canon adjacent, stalking, force, mild depictions of violence / physical struggle, mild injury, delusion, obsession, forced intimacy (one instance, not nsfw just kissing), choking, blood (reader bites), small age gap, power imbalance / power struggle, reader is a street orphan + member of the fatui 18+

✮ wc ; 6.3k

✮ a/n ; thank you to the beloved @bitchkiss for commissioning this from me and allowing me to post!! had a lot of fun with writing it. i have a few left of my first round but i hope to open them again soon.

✮synopsis ; childe can’t tolerate the fact you’ve left. he has no intentions of letting things stay that way.

It’s the most intimate moment you’ve shared together. Childe recognizes this with a bitter sense of irony. The soft spritz of oil from a ripe orange stains his fingers, noiseless and fragrant as it tickles the back of his throat.

You’re formal to the very end. You’re standing across from him, between you his desk (though it feels like miles) with your badge sat on the glazed cherry wood. Spick and span, so shiny it borders dazzling even though you’ve been wearing since you started so many years ago. Like you’ve taken care of it with honor, even though it’s not much more than a carved hunk of metal.

You bow your head first, then give the Fatui salute in a well-practiced steady motion. Childe keeps peeling the orange. Childe looks down at the desk and stares indignantly at your badge. 6 years together, and you’re leaving him.

He clenches his jaw, and he can feel some of the blood in his veins make his nerves throb.

“Thank you for everything, Captain,” Your voice is smooth as you speak, not a hint of devastation in it “From today on, I will no longer be serving the Fatui Harbingers.”

He finishes peeling his orange and discards the peel in a nearby bin, before sitting on the edge of his desk. He blinks, feeds himself a slice of fruit, chews and swallows before talking. He’s worked hard. It calms his nerves to go through each gesture slowly. He shouldn’t ruin it like this, even though the anger building inside him stokes every time you talk.

“Pierro has approved your dismissal?”

“Yes, Captain. Due to my great contribution to the Fatui and my involvement in the early seize of Snezhnaya, I’ve been permitted permission to depart.” You repeat, still not lifting your eyes to look directly at him. You’re focused on his steel-toed boots, a mark of your life as a soldier “I’ll be issued a new identity and sent somewhere overseas.”

“And what do you plan on doing once you leave?”

“I’m hoping to look for my master.”

“You mean the man who taught you the sword?”

“Yes, Sir,” You reply, voice softening. How agitating it is you hold so much affection for that worthless old man “I owe him a great deal. I’d like to contribute something of my savings towards his living expenses,”

“Well aren’t you loyal? I commend your efforts to be searching for him so many years later. Any leads?”

“No Captain, none,” You say, and then another wave of emotion passes through you “But if my memory serves me, he’d be living somewhere in the jungles of Sumeru.”

“What an odd change of pace,”

“He never liked the cold in Snezhnaya.”

Childe gives you a tight lipped smile that you don’t catch since you’re still looking down. He sighs, words muffled as he eats another slice and clicks his teeth.

“Still so impersonal with me,” He chastises, pushing his bottom lip out in a frustrated pout “After all we’ve been through together. Lift your chin up, at least?”

This is the only thing that gets you to look at him. You do as he asks without hesitation - not out of submission but loyalty. Your smile is small, humble, thankful. Childe feels strange looking at it. Your usual coolness fades, tapers itself into a warm and graceful set of features. It’s worn.

Your joy is weathered and battered, bruised by countless atrocities.

In more ways than one, it’s the thing Childe loves most about you.

Childe knows the details of how you’re stained. Like a toddlers plush toy that goes everywhere with them, it is easy to tell that something has happened to you. But, to be loved is to be changed, isn’t it? There’s nothing wrong with being different. So long as it’s him making you different. So long as he’s the one who orchestrates it, enough to bend but never enough to break. Childe knows you. It’s the job of a captain to train his soldiers. It makes his feelings towards you more potent, how well you can endure even the worst of it. You’re not timid, not fearful.

Your eyes are as crystal clear with honesty as they were the day you met.

Even bruised, even anguished, even tortured - there is something about you—so stark in your earnesty. You remind Childe of the fireflies he’d seen in the lands of Sumeru some time ago. To keep you in a tight glass, sealed off from flying far from his reach. The brightness that seems to surround you makes him reach for you even in the bitter dark. He’d never want to suffocate you so he pokes holes in the lids. Lets you breathe, lets you see the world outside of glass.

If a firefly spends enough time in captivity, glass walls can become religion. A widely accepted belief, indoctrinated certainly. There’s something to see but nowhere to go. That’s always what he wanted you to believe.

Had it all been for nothing in the end? The thought is sour, makes his mouth tighten like he’s swallowed rotten fruit.

“Sorry, Sir. Force of habit. I really am very grateful to have met you. You’ve saved my life more times than I can count.”

“And yet you abandon me like this. I’m really hurt, you know? Didn’t what we had mean something to you?”

You crack a pleasant smile - it’s a rare right, and it’s always genuine. You’re usually icier than the blizzards in Snezhnaya, the same neutral expression has stayed on your face for as long as he’s known you. You’ve been like that since you were 17. Back then you were much more hardened. He doesn’t blame you. A street urchin, robbing and stealing for food and shelter. Childe knows the story like the back of his hand.

When you met for the first time - your hair was cut short and your clothes were so baggy. It was impossible to tell back that you were a person, no less a woman - you felt like one entangled body of anger.

The Tsaritsa would’ve killed you had you not shown such great prowess. Underneath all the filth was a vision. A vision of Anemo, and incredible precision in wielding the ways of wind.

You’d gained useful skills during your time on the streets. But you were unpolished and violent. The Fatui watched you like a storm cloud lingering over the horizon. A typhoon waiting to swallow the world the minute you had the chance.

Back then, Childe wasn’t fascinated with you in the way he is now. You were just a brat he had to train. Pierro had put you into his possession on the basis of Childe’s cruelty. It was an endurance test and Childe had always believed you would fail. He’d put you through countless trials, each one more merciless than the last. Your expression never faltered, never changed, never suffered.

The first time Childe noticed you was after the death of your comrade. You were 18 then and it was the first time you’d ever lost someone you’d been attached to. The expression you wore - rough, hard, emotionless, crumbled into pieces in front of him. You cried at a shallow grave, the first and last time he’d ever seen such an expression in his life. Back then, he only comforted you out of curiosity. What exactly would you do?

But you braved your face. Despite all he’d put you through, you bore no resentment towards him at all. You’d wiped the tears off of your expression and looked at him solemnly. Silent but thankful and terribly honest.

It’s that honesty that drew him towards you.

You were angry, sure - but your righteousness made you different. Unlike the many street rats lurking in the Fatui, driven by money or greed - you were driven by simple things. You hated owing favors. You could be polished into something beautiful. Something interesting, more so than the rest of Fatui goons that flitted around him like gnats.

He’d spent the last 6 years doing just that. Not always intentionally, but always careful.

You’ve grown into something beautiful - poised while being unruly. A mortal paradox that he’s grown to be more fascinated by each passing year. He’s taken time to know the things that make you tick.

Yet you're leaving. He didn’t chain you by the neck fast enough in his attempts to be careful and now you’ve taken your own leash and walked right out of his grip. A shame. Childe is really so hurt by such a thing.

He doesn’t let it show on his face of course. You’ll be remorseful if you see him, but the pity won’t soothe his feelings this time. He has to remain calm so he puts on this delightful act to hide the hurt.

“I suppose you do mean a lot to me, Captain. In a different way.”

“Well,” He steps towards you, but you don’t back away. The proximity, strangely, doesn’t bother you. You are only this permissive towards him, and he counts it as a minor celestial blessing. He doesn’t know if you trust him that much or if you are simply naive. Maybe both. Maybe neither

“What way is that, pray tell? Maybe it will soothe my sorrows.”

“Well, you’re the only person I truly knew and admired. If that counts for anything,” You flush when you tell him this “My master was a great man but all things considered he was more like a father. But I really think very highly of you and your abilities, Sir.”

“What a nice girl you’ve become.” He says back, just to see the startled flush on your features “Isn’t that something?”

You make a face at him, displeased. It almost distracts him from how irritated he feels when he remembers why you started with this conversation in the first place.

“You talk about me like I’m a kid,” You show him just the slightest bit of attitude. It’s a step in the right direction, sends a chill up Childe’s back that he doesn’t dislike in the slightest “I’m all grown up alright? Don’t look down on me.”

He gasps in faux offense “I would never. It’s strange, you know? You’ve changed a lot. I don’t hate it though,” He gives you a once over - hands you a slice of orange. You lean down and grab it with your teeth, chewing and swallowing.

It’s those little acts of naivety that draw him to you most.

“When are you meant to depart, my dear subordinate?”

“Probably within the week,” Your voice is just a touch somber. “After I’ve got everything moved, this may very well be the last time we see each other.”

“It’s a shame then, really. I would’ve preferred being your comrade for much longer than this.”

“We’ll always be comrades, Captain.” You salute him one more time, this time with a smile “I’ll never be able to forget you.”

“You’d better not.” He says with a deep sigh, making you laugh.

Yes, it’s not as if Childe was ever really going to let you.

You disappear from his sight in an instant.

The first few weeks after your absence, Childe buries himself in his work. Pierro praises him for his sudden loyalty to the harbingers - but carrying orders is the only way he can work out his frustration without taking it out on civilians.

He plans from the day you leave to find you eventually. But he knows from the start it’ll be no easy feat. The nature of the business is that relocations are hard to come by and top-secret. If someone is to relocate and change their identity, no one in the Fatui knows where they end up. The only person who’s informed about the drop off locations is Pierro, and it’s not like he’s going to hand that information to Childe regardless.

But that’s different from knowing exactly where you’ve relocated. You’re a smart girl - too clever and too familiar with the Fatui to let them handle something of such importance. Your agreement was this: new money, new documents, new identity - but re-establishing your life would be completely and totally up to you. It makes sense. You’ve gained an incredulous amount of enemies in your time working in Childe’s care - and the matter of relocation is a delicate one. Most of the Fatui are deeply hated across Teyvat.

You’d have to relocate somewhere small where you can make use of your skills or survive on your own. If Childe knows you at all, you would’ve chosen the latter. A self-sustained life where you don’t have to depend on anyone unnecessarily suits you well. After all the blood and gore you bore witness too, isolation was like a second skin.

From the minute you disappear from his line of vision - Childe thinks about finding you. He thinks about what he’ll have to do to make it reality, and what will happen when he does. The minute you’re within his reach, he won’t be foolish enough to let you go again.

There won’t be any concerns about morals or abuse of power - this time, Childe will possess you completely.

Pierro tells Childe: There's a recruitment mission, it will take up to a year and you’ll be traveling all over the world to carry out various orders.

It’s bait. Pierro just wants Childe to get his hands dirty, and he knows that the 11th won’t be able to resist the temptation of finding you. Childe agrees despite knowing this. There is no order he can’t fulfill, no thing he can’t commit too - if it means there’s any chance to find you again.

If it’s for you, he can do anything.

___

For months, Childe soaks his hands in blood trying to find you.

Cheap intel is easy to come by but reliable intel is not.

His first mission in Mondstat. A small nation and one of peace - it’s difficult to stir up any trouble there when Diluc is around. Childe does his best to steer clear of him, since there’s no group the Dark Knight detests so much as the Fatui.

Recruitment in a small, quiet nation happens in slums. Orphanages are prime for this endeavor. A proxy pays a fee for adoption prices and word of the Fatui spreads through the darker corners of the city. Once the word of their presence spreads far enough, another message follows. The Fatui will pay greatly for intel. They’re looking for a woman in her early 20’s. If the information proves reliable, you’ll be paid a hefty sum.

Mondstadt, the city of peace, lives up to its name. The Fatui occupation of the slums doesn’t disrupt anything in the local government. It’s inline with Pierros orders. There’s something important about the city according to the Tsaritsa.

Of course - none of this is especially important to Childe. Once his role has been fulfilled, every minute is spent chasing leads and following trails to whichever path leads to you. It’s a compulsion. Each time he receives a knock on his office door, he feels his pulse rise all the way into his throat. He knows objectively that most leads are worthless - that people are simply trying to squeeze money from the Fatui in order to survive.

The piercing, celestial anger doesn’t settle with all the objectivity in the world. No amount of searching seems to lead back to you and his patience is already dangerously thin.

Of course Childe knew embarking on this endeavor would not be fruitful all at once.

Your speciality had been stealth from the beginning. If anyone knew how to disappear into thin air - Childe would first think of you. It doesn’t soothe him. Knowing it will be difficult to find you, and knowing especially that you don’t want to be found - none of it soothes the bone deep ache for you. Each night he carves the desire out of him, it won’t help him in his journey to carry.

But each morning, there’s a bruising sensation in his ribs that reminds him of the wound process. Each night he bore the injury of loss and there is nowhere for him to find evidence of it happening. Only the aftermath, and more pitiful breadcrumbs that he tries to trace back to you.

Childe chases the tail light of a firefly across every corner of Mondstadt. He turns over each chipped brick of dilapidated buildings, hunts down every one who even knows your name or any of your features. He rifles through cheap shot intel and thins out the swarm of greedy idiots through beatings.

Among the cheap dirty tricks, he finds one lead. From a child, no less - a boy who isn’t any older than 13.

In his office, two Fatui drag in a pair of siblings.

“I know who you’re looking for,” He says, slow and careful - on guard. There’s a little girl trembling behind him, shaking like a leaf. A big brother, through and through “I have proof.”

Childe takes interest immediately. This little boy reminds him of you, crystal clear eyes. Truthful. Childe leans on the edge of his desk.

“Proof? What, like a picture?”

“N-no,” He swallows. He reaches for something inside of his cloak, and the guards immediately stand to attention. Childe puts his hand up telling them to stand down. When there’s no longer any threat, the boy pulls something out of his pocket. A piece of paper with something drawn on it, and a coin within it.

Ah. The paper bears your signature, and the coin is yours too. To be more clear, it’s a coin relocated agents are permitted to carry once they depart. It’s a signature of honorable dismissal, and a promise from the Tsartisa guaranteeing your protection in case of more Fatui encroachment on the land. There’s an honor system. It’s rare that dismissal even happens given the nature of the organization. Agents with outstanding records get three total.

Childe can hardly believe it. But he does, because it’s you - and it’s something you would do. It��s not like a 13 year old boy would be able to coerce it out of you. It’s yours. You gave it to him.

Childe grips the coin into his hand. There’s a lingering presence. He closes his fist around the metal, paper crumpling underneath before kissing his closed fist.

“When,” He takes in a sharp breath “When did you receive this?”

“A few weeks ago,” He replies, visibly relaxed now that Childe seems to recognize its legitimacy “She s-stayed with me and my sister for a while. And protected us. Nobody messes with us anymore. She s-said that if the Fatui come, to give them this and they won’t bother us.”

“And you’re trading it in for money, you precocious brat?” Childe says with no real malice in his voice. The kid stiffens, but he can only laugh in reply “Well, I’ll respect the young lady's wishes. I like kids, after all.”

Childe makes eye contact with his underlings, and they salute him.

“Give them as much money as they ask for. And issue them another coin, but make sure it’s one of mine. I’ll be keeping this one,”

They speak in tandem “Yes, Captain.”

“You should be very grateful, kid.” Childe says, reaching his hand out. He’s in a good mood, hands patting the heads of both kids.

“You’ve experienced something truly invaluable, and it’s brought you great fortune. Go give prayer to your Archon for the blessing”

He traces your steps back to Liyue. He only knows this after interrogating those kids for a long while. Liyue is the easiest route to Sumeru, so Childe mostly works on a hunch.

He likes Liyue. It’s easy enough to recruit there since the Fatui already have a foot in the door, and beyond that - the citizens are warm if you’re respectful.

“Excuse me, maam,” Childe waves a hand at the woman working at the fruit stand near the harbor. An older woman and Liyue local, with gray hair and warm eyes “Would it be alright if I asked you some questions?”

The woman pauses from her task, squinting her eyes momentarily before humming.

“Sure, sonny, I don’t see why not,” She replies, continuing on with her work “Are you a foreigner?”

“Yes, ma’am I am. And I’m looking for someone who I heard passed through here recently.”

“Oh? Who’re you looking for?”

“A young lady. Early 20’s. A bit rough and about ye high,” He says, vaguely gesturing to your height. He gives a little bit more detail on your features and the woman listens to him carefully before her eyes widen with realization “Sound familiar?”

“Oh, her!” The woman smiles, sitting behind her set up with a knife in hand. She grabs a melon from her stall, balancing it on a cutting board. She wets her knife with water and wipes it, the reflective metal shining in Childe’s eyes as it goes through the fruit in one solid push. “Yes. She stayed here for weeks, though I don’t have any idea where. She came in every morning to buy something from me.”

“Could you tell me a little more about it?” Childe urges, trying to mask the desperation to know in his voice. The old lady hums pleasantly “Anything about her or where she might be headed?”

“Well, she said something about Sumeru,” The old lady relays, cutting the melon into thin slices - ripe and sweet “She had thought about visiting Fontaine, but decided on just Sumeru for now. Said she was looking for her Father. How do you know that young lady, might I ask?”

“A friend from childhood,” Childe relays, a half truth and lie of omission. He dawns an expression of embarrassment and sincerity. “I’ve been looking for her all of my life.”

“Well, aren’t you quite the romantic? Was she your first love, dear boy?”

“Yes. Something like that. I had heard she was in Mondstat and then she came here, but it seems like I keep missing her. And I don’t want to lose sight of her again, after all we’ve been through.”

The old woman's features soften, as she holds out a piece of fruit for Childe to take. He accepts, taking it graciously and with a soft word of thanks.

“To be young again would be a gift indeed,” She sighs wistfully “I admire your tenacious spirit. I’m sure you get a little closer to finding her each time you search. If it’s meant to be, I’m sure you will.”

Childe takes a bite of melon. It’s rich, mostly sweet and the slightest bit sour. The juice dribbles down his chin, and coats his mouth with the not-quite satisfaction. Sweet, but not sweet enough. Close but not close enough.

“Did she mention anything else?” He asks, wondering for more details “Or leave anything behind?”

“You sound like you miss her,” She says brightly before shaking her “Forgive my memory. The only thing I can remember was that she was preparing to settle down. She took seeds and supplies with her. After that, I didn’t see her again.”

“How unfortunate. But if she plans to be in Sumeru, then it seems like I have to go find her there,”

“You won’t be staying here long then, young man?”

Childe reaches the last of his slice, wiping his mouth with the back of a gloved hand.

“I don’t think so. But I’ll return someday. And if I find her, well,” He gives her a smile, picking a peach off of the stand and dropping a bag of Mora on the table “I’ll make sure we both come and thank you.”

Sumeru is Snezhnaya’s opposite.

In composition, in sight, in taste and in sound. The sweltering heat of the jungle, the plush of green, the wildlife that lays among the thickets. In all the ways that Snezhnaya is cold and precise, Sumeru is warm and bleeding. Each corner of the great nation bleeds into self. Culture bleeds into art and art bleeds into politics and everything is threaded together like vines of ivy through metal grates.

They are foreign lands to Childe. He’s spent his time across the world in other nations, but not Sumeru. The other Harbingers occupied it for years before Childe had the chance - and he does his very best to not trifle into Dottore’s territory.

(There is memory of another harbinger, like the faintest whisper of a ghost.)

But he can’t be sure of that. All he knows is that it’s his first time spending any time there for longer than a few days. It’s his first time there on a mission, to spend time among its people and make deals with the other mercenaries that roam both the desert and forest.

The Fatui are not particularly fond of the Eremites. Unlike other groups, there is no easy way to subordinate them. There are more intricate hierarchies and laws among them, laws of survival that do not cross over well to the Fatui. The Eremites have an honor system that many Fatui find foreign.

It’s not impossible to find common ground - but it’s difficult. If they are to stumble upon the wrong group of Eremites, they could very well end up in a losing battle. Sand is much like snow. If you don’t tread carefully, if you aren’t prepared - one step could leave you buried beneath soil before you could think twice.

There is one thing that both Eremite and Fatui bastards share completely, and that is greed for power and wealth.

Recruitment in the Sumeru region is difficult. But any information can be found if your pockets are heavy enough. They’re an efficient bunch since they don’t require much training.

Childe will have to look at his own books later. How much time, money, manpower he’s allocated in his relentless search for you. How many mountains he’s climbed, how many fights he’s gotten into, how much trouble it’s been. Mora is nothing, but altogether - your disappearance has cost a hefty price.

Still, you were telling the truth - as was the Eremite who found your new location, and the woman in Liyue who sold you fruit and the orphan boy who held your signature.

A trail of your very own light, the feeling of a cool breeze - everything that Childe has worked for has ultimately led him back to you in the bleedings lands of Sumeru.

A few weeks ago, he received new intel from an Eremite he’d recruited at the beginning of their stay. A 17-yr boy with a gift for the sword that had no particular loyalty to any other group of Eremites. A capable loner. Childe’s mission was simple -

(“There’s a woman you must find.

If you find her, I’ll give you anything you please.”)

Like a miracle, in 3 weeks time - the same recruit had returned to Tartaglia’s door with a photo of you.

(“You…you found her.” Childe mutters. He’s overwhelmed with too many emotions for anyone to show on his face. “Where?”

“In the jungle.” The boy says, voice cool and neutral “It looks like she built a shelter for herself and stays there. She wasn’t anywhere near the city,”

“No wonder it’s been so difficult to find you.” Childe mutters to himself before looking back up again “Can you lead me there?”

The boy rifles in his bag for something. A parchment paper that unravels to be a map with a line drawn on it.

“I thought this would be easier.”

Childe holds the paper in utter disbelief, staring at the line draw. A path forward to you.)

Last night, he departed alone into the jungles and followed the path carefully. The map was well marked with rest points and stops, and it wasn’t difficult to trek it once he was outside of the city. He’d gone alone with nothing but the clothes on his back. Eager and impatient, restless to find an oasis in the desert that has been draining the life out of him since he’d arrived.

Childe finds you at dawn. The sun has to rise completely but the world is lit, soft blue encasing it like a blanket. Off the beaten path is a cottage - a shelter built from jungle wood with a small animal coop and a garden. There’s a single light on in the kitchen, and enough windows for him to see what’s inside.

Many things overwhelm him once he catches the light on your face. You must’ve been awake for a while, because there’s no sleep left on your expression. Nothing but clarity, brightness, familiarity that Childe must’ve been searching for months now, maybe half a year.

The world feels like it’s stopped moving for him to take a step forward. It’s dark enough that a firefly draws past him, and Childe feels his body move nearly against his will.

He walks through the mud, through the dirt and grass - following the path to your door until he’s towering in front of it. He stands at the wood for a long, long while - in silent contemplation, before a sick sense of joy flutters through him.

A sense of sickness that parades around in his mind. Almost childlike. It’s been a long game of hide and seek, but Childe has finally found you.

He knocks on the door, lets each hit ring before he stops. And he waits.

You open the door without questioning it. Perhaps there’s someone from in town who visits you often enough that you don’t think to question it. Either way, you open it.

And when your eyes land on Childe’s expression, everything shifts.

He can practically feel the immediate apprehension. The confusion that you can’t make sense of, the feeling of bitter dread. Childe knows you like the back of your hand. Knows every little detail of your discomfort. You’re more confused than you are concerned for now, and your eyes are brilliantly honest like they’ve been from the start.

He’s giddy. The pure sense of euphoria is entangled so deeply with months worth or frustration, and he’s wound so tight he can’t help but grin down at you. You blink at him.

“Captain?”

“Comrade,” He says, voice a touch light “How have you been?”

He doesn’t offer you any more explanation than that. You stare at him and he stares back, greedily at the sight of you. He’s missed you, really - missed everything about you so much it feels like some part of him is ticking, preparing to detonate. You step back and Childe nearly steps with you.

He’s worried it will scare you off, so he refrains.

“What are you doing here, Captain?”

“Well,” He says first, contemplative “It’s a long story. Could I come in first?”

“Oh, of course,” You reply, because you presume it’s something important. You trust him enough to let him “Please, come in.”

So he invites himself in. You direct him to a small dining table with two wooden chairs. There’s sliced Zaytun peaches sitting on a ceramic plate. You pour Childe a glass of water hospitably, before sitting across from him with a look of concern. It’s easy to tell what you’re thinking - that there must’ve been some reason for him to come find you and that it must be important. You’re waiting for him to tell you that and soothe his nerves.

But being with you now, he finds he harbors no such desire. He eats a peach off of the plate in front of him. They’re sweet to the point it makes his teeth hurt.

He gives you a stare as you look back at him, and the two of you sit in uncomfortable silence.

“I’m glad I finally found you,” He says conversationally, looking down at his hands as he speaks “You didn’t make it easy, you know?”

“...You were looking for me?”

“Looked all across Teyvat for clues. I expected that, though. You were always good at disappearing when no one was around to see, comrade and I admired that about you,” Childe says with a sigh, shaking his head “I was very devastated to see you leave,”

“So you went searching for me? Why?”

He laughs hard as you ask him that, he almost can’t help it.

“Well, that’s the thing,” He says, taking another piece of fruit. Relishing the sweetness, almost as warming as the sudden proximity between you two “After all the years I’d spent crafting you into an excellent soldier, I thought it’d be a shame to let you disappear,”

He looks at you. Watches as your face changes.

“All those times I’d saved you, been a mentor towards you, taught and trained you. I’ve watched over you for so long and cared for you so fondly, and you disappeared just like that. I try not to be too bothered by things,” Childe laments, leaning back in the wood chair “I’m a patient man, for the most part. I’m an older brother, so I’ve always tried to be responsible. But there are some things I like to keep for myself,”

“...Captain, what are you talking about?”

Childe stands to his feet and walks over to you. The feeling of fear starts to build in you, mild but present in your vague tremble. You falter. He can tell from the way you stand. You must feel that something is wrong and your eyes show your distrust. Childe can’t stop peering into them, can’t stop searching for your every feeling wishing to pull them out of you and examine them.

He pulls away the chair behind you, letting it fall to the floor. He backs into you slowly, into the wall behind you where you stand underneath him. You’re afraid - tense, but not unwilling to fight.

“Did you think,” He whispers, voice filled with satisfaction “That every time I saved you was a coincidence?”

He stares down at you. Your eyes widen.

“I was just so fascinated. You can be really innocent sometimes, it's just adorable. But you’re also extremely direct and brutal. Naive but also completely trusting. I’ve never met a ruthless mercenary who was so forgiving.” Childe reaches for a piece of your hair, bringing it so carefully to his lips “I’ve come to love that about you. I just wanted to see if you could really endure all that. And you did beautifully. Really.”

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“When Valentin and Ilya died, you came back so crushed but your eyes,” Childe says, peering into them - hand reaching up to your cheek. You try to push him back. He feels the force in it - but he’s stronger than you by a lot where it matters “These eyes stayed the same. Clear and bright. A gaze that only spoke truth. It was mesmerizing. I’ve always been fond of beautiful things.” He says wistfully.

You push back. Your strong enough that Childe can feel the weight of you movements as you try to get away from him. You think of many clever moves, like going underneath him. You’re quick but he’s quicker. He pins you against the wall, cages you in with his body - his legs locks yours so you can’t use your knees. He traps you, just like he always wanted too.

It feels better than he could’ve pictured.

“I didn’t plan for them to die so brutally,” Childe begins, his voice against your ear. He can feel how your heart races through your skin, the painful pulse of each of your nerves as anger torrents inside of you. “I knew they were underskilled. I thought they’d only come back injured, but I was wrong. Torn to bits right in front of you. When you came back I thought you were completely broken but,”

He looks down at you, and you look up. There is burning, violent hatred in your unchanging gaze. He smiles at you affectionately, and it jars you enough that your own face changes in response.

“You looked at me with this same expression. Melancholy but crystal clear. You can’t help it can you? Not in the slightest. Time and time again, you came back and suffered tremendously but that never changed about you,” Childe whispers against your skin. Lets his lips brush against your neck, and your bare shoulder. He feels your body move hard trying to get him off of you, but you remain in place “One day, you’d get exhausted. And when that happened, I would help you. Take you into my own care. You could do whatever you wanted as long as you were with me. That was the vague inclination”

“You sick bastard.”

“But you ran,” Childe says. He releases you momentarily, trades his body in for a hand around your throat. You claw at him but the pain is easy to endure. “All that effort, and you decided to disappear. I was so annoyed with that, you know? I love you after all. Enough to empty every well of resources to find you. I searched for you in every corner I could look.”

With gloved hands, Childe hooks one of his thumbs into your mouth before hooking the other one - prying your jaw open completely. It shocks you enough to render you helpless - motionless as your hand rests on his forearm. When your mouth is open, he uses one hand to keep it that way. His gloved fingers violate your mouth, thumb brushing over the ridges in your teeth. He grabs your tongue with his thumb and forefinger, pressing it slightly like he’s reprimanding you. It’s warm and hot, making a chill run up his spine.

“But I won’t make that mistake again. From here and now, I’ll make sure you never leave my side. And with you next to me,” He presses his lips to your cheek while your mouth is pried open. He can feel your teeth dig into the sliver of skin exposed from his glove, biting hard enough that it punctures and bleeds. Childe is unfazed by it, almost a little fond at how hard he can feel your canines digging into his leather gloves “From now on, everything you do should be with me at the forefront. I’m being a little selfish, but it should be alright, yes? You’ve been under my command for a longer time, so you’re used to it.”

“Captain,” Your words are muffled by his fingers in his mouth, a touch sad - a touch betrayed, but not terrified. Angry like you want to kill him. To rip him apart with your teeth but too confused to do so much as move. Not scared of him despite everything that he’s just admitted. And your eyes, of course, remain unchanged “You fucking bastard. You rotten fucking bastard, they were—”

He pulls his fingers away from your mouth, cupping your face in his hands instead. Your reaction is refreshing.

“Kiss me, won’t you?”

Your response is to bite but Childe catches your mouth anyway. He holds your chin and keeps you under him and kisses you hard. He lets his hands circle around your waist, completely ignoring all the attempts you make to run. He kisses you, and your mouth tastes like blood. His blood, mixed with the faint taste of peach. Iron and sugar, perfectly entangled in the soft, warm heat of your mouth. You kiss like a dream.

Your cold stoicism melts under the weight of your shock, and you’re so startled you give in only slightly. Childe kisses you in apology. Childe kisses you because he loves how dreadful you find it. Because no matter how much it disgusts or sickens you, he can’t help but be addicted to the feeling of your lips and skin. He’s sure the coming months will make this newly explored affection a most miserable vice.

He wraps around a hand around your throat again, teeth nipping along your cheek before kissing the indentation of his own canine. His other hand clamps around your wrists, pinning them above your head as he cages you in once again.

“I’m not an opponent you will ever be able to best unless the Archon’s themselves come to kill me,” He whispers, faint and loving as he makes sure to look you in the eyes. “So stand down, soldier - and let your Captain lead you to paradise.”

#yandere cw #violence cw #dark content cw #stalking cw #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere childe

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pathetic-sapphic · 8 months

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Hi! I just wanted to say I really, really love your work. It's so nice to see someone appreciate the Arcane milfs as much as you do. I was wondering if you could do the milfs with a plus size reader, if you haven't already? If not, thanks for doing what you're doing. 💖

Arcane milfs with a Plus Size S/O

tags: NSFW themes, fem! reader, plus size! reader, authors note at the end

Being the tall and buff woman she is, SEVIKA likes her girlfriend to be the opposite; soft and sweet. She is a sucker for chubby girls, loves grabbing handfuls of your ass and thighs. Always has her hand on your hip, softly kneading the fat and your skin. When it comes to the century-old question that is; tits, thighs, or ass? For Sevika, the answer is all of the above. She loves it all, loves sucking on your tits, leaving bruises over your thick thighs, and slapping your ass whenever she has the chance. Whistles whenever you wear something tight or revealing, telling you to give her a little spin. At the Last Drop, you have one seat and one seat only; her lap. It's always reserved for you, you're her cute lucky charm. She also loves planting kisses on your round cheeks, sometimes biting them playfully while telling you how sweet you taste.

GRAYSON is an extremely loving partner who never fails to make you feel like a beautiful and spoiled princess. She is a complete gentlewoman, always so polite and appreciative around you. Showers you with compliments whenever she can, kissing your hand and gazing at your pretty face. Grayson is very much into body worshipping her partner, so be prepared to be loved and taken care of properly while she kisses all over your plush body, complimenting all your curves, appreciating the stretch marks, and caressing your soft skin. Likes taking you on shopping dates, always gives the best advice on what suits you and takes you to your favorite bakery afterward. Seeing you so happy and spoiled makes her insides feel all warm and fluttering.

CASSANDRA is a woman of class and considers herself someone with a good eye for noticing and appreciating beauty when she sees it. She adores spoiling you with tailored clothes and believes that your allure should be captured for eternity. So, if you're willing, be prepared for Cassandra to commission the best artists in Piltover to paint you and immortalize your elegant image. Will not stand for any slander of your looks, even by yourself. If she catches you talking down on your own body and looks, she will punish you accordingly. She is very strict and yet showers you with praise, as she never wants you to doubt her loyalty and the admiration that she harbors for you. In short, Cassandra will treat you like royalty and will spoil you as much as you allow her to.

Similar to Sevika, AMBESSA thinks you're simply adorable. You remind her of a cute little rabbit and she, being the wolf, actually quite likes the contrast between the two of you. Before you got together, Ambessa had partners of many body types and she harbors no preference. She is a tall and strong woman, so she often maneuvers you in many different positions when you're having sex. One of her favorites being you sitting on her face, your thighs squishing her head while she makes you scream. The feeling of your softness around her makes her feel as if she's on cloud nine. Ambessa is a thigh woman through and through and she would live between your legs if you let her. She will also suck so many hickeys and bruises into your soft skin that you won't be able to hide them no matter how hard you try. That's okay though, because Ambessa likes marking her pet and letting everyone know that the pretty girl is all hers.

a/n: oh dear anon, this was right up my alley, the gender wasn't specified so i wrote as fem! reader. if you want a gn version, feel free to request it :) enjoy! and thank you for your kind words <3

#arcane #arcane headcanons #arcane x reader #requests are open #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #arcane grayson #grayson x reader #arcane grayson x reader #arcane ambessa #ambessa medarda #ambessa medarda x reader #arcane ambessa x reader #arcane cassandra #cassandra kiramman #cassandra kiramman x reader #arcane milfs #wlw #sapphic

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captainmalewriter · 1 year

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Nymphs

Commission Story

Davis couldn't believe the streak of bad luck he'd been having lately. Between getting laid off at work along with various problems back at home, he simply couldn't catch a break! Although the young 25 year old always carried a nonchalant, 'I don't give a fuck' approach to life, even he grew weary after so many L's.

One late evening, Davis was lazing around on his mattress as he tried to figure out how he was going to get some money fast before deadlines started catching up to him. But no matter how much he racked his brain, all he could think of was selling his homegrown pot brownies to the rich high schoolers down the block or go gay for pay.

Neither option was particularly appealing, and out of frustration, Davis let out a grunt as he flipped onto his back. He took out his phone, and as a porn video was loading, he began to strip down. His dick flopped out and he started giving it a few pumps, causing it to grow from 4 inches to 7 inches. Davis was both a shower and a grower like that. He figured a quick tugging session could release some stress. Or it would've been, had his roommate Jared not barged into the room seconds later.

"Bro, what the fuck!" Davis yelled as he quickly covered up his junk. He didn't want his gay roommate to get any ideas. His fears were unwarranted however, as Jared carried on with his business while barely acknowledging him.

"Sorry to interrupt, but can you jerk off somewhere else? I got a guy coming over." Jared then proceeded to change into a jockstrap with Davis still in the room.

Davis scowled, but left without saying anything back. He knew if he didn't leave, it would just cause another week long fight between the two. And not only that, he knew he had sexiled Jared quite a few times too. It'd only be fair if Jared did the same, but that didn't stop Davis from flipping him off as he left the room.

"Goddamn queer..." Davis muttered under his breath as he hopped on his bike and drove out burning rubber.

He had no idea where he was going. Yet, driving around the city aimlessly turned out to be incredibly therapeutic for him. The summer night wind was blowing on his chest as he cruised by streetlights at daredevil speeds. All the adrenaline coursing through his veins made him feel alive! It was crazy that one night drive did what several years of meds couldn't do. Davis was back in his element, and the devilish grin on his face proved it.

The last stop to Davis' night ride was the local city park. At that park was a duck pond where people often went swimming and skinny dipping in. Swimming in the park pond was illegal, but that didn't stop people like Davis from hopping from the fence and going into the water anyway. Davis helped himself, as he always does.

The cool of night made his skin tingle as he stripped down naked. He went slowly into the water, letting his nude body adjust to the temperature change, then dove straight in. The pond water was as refreshing as it was cold. Davis swam around for a while, then floated along the surface for a while longer. He closed his eyes as he remained submerged in the water. The pond was his sanctuary and he had found his peace again.

But as he swam around in the pond, there was something else in there swimming alongside him. It had been resting dormant in the water for decades now, but Davis had unknowingly woken it up, ready to latch onto a host. His nude body made the thing's work easier too. All Davis had to do was swim by for it to attach itself to him.

What was the thing? It wasn't a fish nor insect of any kind. It barely qualified as a multi cellular organism, but to call it a virus would be a gross oversimplification of what it actually was. The thing had come from a stray piece of space debris originating from Neptune. The microscopic Nymph had wound up in the pond after landing. Without a host body, the Nymph was nothing. But now that it had entered Davis through the slit of his dick head, it had awakened. It entered Davis' body, all without him even noticing.

After the late night swim, Davis went back to his apartment to check out for the day. His shared room smelled like anal sex after Jared had his fun in there. Davis popped open a window and went to bed. The exhaustion of an exciting night caught up to him, leaving him sleeping soundly.

While he snoozed away, the little aquatic alien began swimming up the full length of his member. The Nymph swam through his bloodstream, where thanks to its small size, it went completely undetected by Davis’ immune system. It went through the digestive system and the cardiovascular system until it finally landed at the brain. It then nestled into the folds of Davis’ brain, locked and loaded for the next step of complete body takeover.

The next morning came by in a flash. Davis had woken up while Jared was still sleeping over on his side of the room. He groaned as he stretched and got out of bed. Davis looked around and saw the state of disarray the room was in.

“Fuck this,” he said out loud to no one. “I don’t got time to clean, I got more important things to take care of.”

Davis then proceeded to go about his morning. He showered, ate breakfast, then got dressed for the day. He knew had another long day of job hunting ahead of him. But while he was getting dressed, he couldn’t help but notice his massive bulge. He then walked over to his mirror and dropped his jeans to his ankles to get a better view.

“Whewww... God-DAMN!!” Davis exclaimed. He ran his free hand through his chest and abdominals. He was flexing as he felt all the toned muscles of his body. He couldn’t help but smirk as he traced his V-line and cupped his bulge for a quick video. “Thank you God for the good genetics.”

It was supposed to end there. Davis just wanted to check himself out for a brief minute before moving on to the rest of his day. But he didn’t want to stop- or, more accurately, he couldn’t stop! The more he rubbed himself down, the more aroused he was becoming. His bulge grew as his member hardened. He kept playing with his hardening cock, teasing it through his underwear until he finally stuck his hand in and started properly stroking it off. He groaned as he jerked. Jared’s snoring reminded him he wasn’t alone in the room. Davis made a mental note to keep it down, but continued his tugging session anyway.

Davis stopped jerking off for a moment to strip down naked. He kept admiring himself in the mirror. The sight of his naked body kept him rock hard. He flexed in the mirror and smirked. He had just showered, but he hadn’t put on deodorant yet. The faint smell of what was left of his body odor reached his nose, causing him to purr ‘mmm...’ He turned his head to his pits and took a deep sniff.

“God, even my pits smell fucking amazing!! ”

He then continued stroking his dick while worshipping his own body and musk. The cock head was sensitive to the touch, and the lotion he rubbed on his hands after showering made them extra soft. He cupped his hands and thrusted his dick into it. It was so warm and soft, almost as if he was actually fucking someone’s hole.

“Ohh... fuck...”

A moan escaped his lips as he pumped his cock. He made sure to keep the volume down to avoid waking up Jared. He knew he shouldn’t be rubbing one out with his roommate still in the room, but Davis couldn’t help it. He could feel the sexual frustration in his body swell up. He had to rub one out, there was no stopping it now.

He was leaking precum like a broken faucet. His face became flushed as his stroking speed picked up. He was grunting nonstop, completely forgetting Jared was still in the room. But he was too lost in the moment. With his dick pointed up, he tightened his grip as he stroked his cock more and more until he finally erupted. Two weeks worth of cum shot out of him like a fire hose while he was panting. He threw his head back in pure bliss as he felt the warmness of a good jerk off session spread throughout his body. That, and puddles of cum had landed on his exposed body, adding to the warm feeling too.

In the heat of the moment, Davis didn’t realize he had his dick pointed up towards him. Because of that, some of the cum had shot directly onto his face. Some of it even landing on his lips! He groaned and wiped it off, accidentally getting a taste of his own sticky spunk. He felt the salty taste in his mouth, but still instead of being absolutely disgusted by it, he smacked his lips as he savored the taste of his own cum. Davis wasn’t sure why, but it tasted amazing and he needed more. He then used his hands and mouth to clean up all the cum.

Then it happened. The endorphins from masturbating and the taste of cum made the Nymph inside his brain go into overdrive. It hijacked his brain and forced his internal organ systems to start reproducing copies of the alien creature. Within minutes, there were millions of Nymphs inside of Davis’ body. By the time Davis had finished cleaning up and put his pants back on, the head Nymph had successfully completed phase two of body takeover. All that was left was to seize full control.

“Ow... Ow! FUCK!!” Davis screamed out as his temples started throbbing with pain. He fell to his bed with his hands massaging the sides of his head. He was losing control over his body and he was powerless to stop it.

His vision blurred as he thrashed around. His mind felt groggy and heavy, and his breathing grew heavy. Then out of nowhere, he started hearing his own inner voice issuing commands to him. He wasn’t sure why his brain was commanding him, but he obeyed anyway, not knowing it was the Nymph using his own body against him.

Davis stood up, still breathing heavy and face still flushed red. The Nymph scanned the room through Davis, surveying its new surroundings. Its line of sight stopped on Jared, who had slept through Davis jerking off and getting taken over by an alien creature. Davis smacked his lips and his stomach grumbled loudly as he watched Jared’s chest rise and drop with every breath.

“More... MORE!”

Davis threw himself to Jared’s side. He was on his knees salivating at the mouth as he slowly but surely removed Jared’s sweats, leaving his limp cock to slip out. Just the mere sight of another dick got Davis excited! He started with stroking Jared off, and once it got hard enough, he wrapped his mouth around the girthy member. Davis could taste the tang of an unwashed cock, but all it did was motivate him to suck harder.

“Urgh.... fuck...!” Jared said while finally waking up. He felt good, and when he looked down and saw Davis sucking him off, he couldn’t help but smirk. “Finally giving men a try, huh. What a good boy.”

Jared put his hand on the back of Davis’ head and pushed him down, forcing him to deepthroat his entire cock. Davis gagged at first, but quickly grew to the challenge. He then got on top of Jared. He sucked Jared while Jared sucked him off. The two men moaned and grunted like mad as they pleasured each other. Jared was living his fantasy of hooking up with his hot roommate, while Davis was ecstatic to get another shot of cum down his throat.

“Fuck...! I’mma cum...! Argh!!!” Jared cried out as he shot out a load of cum. Davis happily swallowed all of it, but kept sucking Jared off even after he licked his dick clean. Davis then thrusted his hips down to make Jared deepthroat him. He kept the rhythm going strong while he cummed a second time. Jared had no choice but to swallow his load too.

By this time, Davis was chalk full of microscopic aliens. And so was his own cum. Jared noticed Davis’ cum was way saltier than most men, but took it down his throat like a champ anyway. Big mistake. Now the Nymphs were hard at work taking over Jared’s body as another host. Jared felt the piercing pain of having his mind getting taken over, but with Davis laying right on top of him, he couldn’t even struggle against it. Jared quickly succumbed, and all that was left to his mind was the simple command: MORE CUM.

Davis and Jared kept sucking each other until both men’s bodies were completely drained of any and all cum. Only then they did get off each other. Both of their eyes were dilated as they stared into each other’s eyes. Their bodies were alive and they were still fully conscious of their actions, but their minds had been hijacked by extraterrestrial aliens who only had two things on their agenda: gather cum and spread. Because of the Nymphs, their sex crazed actions made sense to them as if it was just another ordinary activity. They had become cum hungry sluts under alien control.

The Nymphs had changed their bodies too. Davis’ musk became more potent, he reeked of masculinity and lust. Jared’s body became more muscular, going from toned twunk to ripped bodybuilder. The changes were subtle, yet they made both of them more sexually attractive to other queer men. Perfect for aliens’ sole mission.

The two men looked at each other, both of them suffering from severe mental fog. Then, a naughty, lustful smile spread across both their faces.

“Threesome?” Jared asked. Davis shook his head.

“Foursome. More men, more cum.”

The two Nymph controlled men then went out to catch more men under their web, hungry for more.

Thank you for supporting!!

#male possession #alien possession #male control #male takeover #musk #alien parasite #commission story #commission

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nevros-fr · 10 months

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Big question: Who or when was the first use of the term UMA?

Cross posted to FR's forums but I thought fr tumblr meta readers would like this too! Introduction What is a UMA? It stands for User Made Accents, where the companion term is User Made Skins, but UMAs caught on as the catch-all term instead of UMS. I was in the Arcane discord server where foxaquinn made a joke about UMAs and wondered who was the first to use it. If you are on GASP (general accent and skin pinglist), UMAs pop up regularly where I got pinged 60+ times for threads with UMA in the title. I research by day and play pet sims by night so here I am, combining research and pet sims to unravel how language changed throughout the years in the skins and accents community! I included in text citations for my sources because I like those and I don’t like making works cited lists. :) First, what language does the staff use for skins? Maybe UMAs came from them? The Kickstarter uses the word “customs” in regards to the skins (Kickstarter, 2013) The first skin submission competition for the festival, Undel used the word “customs” to refer to the skins users made (Undel, 2013). Note that the current competitions and even the tooltip for blueprints use the word “customs” as well. The blueprint page even uses “user-created” and not “user-made” so "user made" must have stemmed from the community as a more casual way to say user-created.

Results Let’s rule out some approaches that may give an easy answer. I tried to use the FR search tool to see if I could find the first use of UMA, however it only indexes up to one year of results or 100 pages, whichever you hit first when you sort by age so I wasn’t able to glean anything from that. Note that I tried to stick with UMA as the search term because use of UMS just overlaps too largely with the sound “um” when I use the search bar, which also means that plurals are captured by FR’s search. I can also tell you that FR’s search lets you type in user-made or user made and it will pull up the same results.

Then I tried google where I used the key terms site:https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/ "UMA" with a time range from 2013 to 2014. It looked promising at first because it looked like there was an instance as early as 2013. When I actually checked it though, it pulled up the most recent use of UMA in the forums in the first two hits as seen by the timestamps of May 2023 next to it. Google indexed when the forum board was established instead of the individual threads for this search. I dropped the time range and just checked what results it would pull up.

There was an individual thread called the FR Abbreviations Guide that got pulled up. It was made in 2014 and includes both UMA and UMS in the definition list. However, UMA was added to the page in 2020 (FR Abbreviations, 2020).

I decided to just look back at some of the early Skins and Accents posts to see what language they use. It was pretty interesting, where many people just used skins and accents. There is no distinction yet, likely because there weren’t any festival or coliseum skins that users could submit yet! There were still categories though, since blueprints were so expensive, some artists offered “premades” which were skins people could buy for a certain cost on top of providing a blueprint. There were also options for “ghost artists” where the artist could design a custom skin but pass the psd files to the patron for them to distribute instead of the artist selling them instead. “Customs” was also another common term, where it works the same as it does today. People commission an artist to design a unique skin for them. The majority of skins on the market right now would be considered premades back then, which makes sense as it lets the artist have their creative liberties and will allow like minded users to support them.

I was clearly a fool to think UMAs were old because with the skins and accent threads research, I decided to comb through my forum posts to see what I ended up using. I first used UM accents in 2016 since that is when I first started collecting them, then the last time I used it was in early 2018 because I started using UMA by early 2019. I have no posts between 2018 and 2019, but clearly there was a language shift for me that preceded the FR abbreviations update just a year later (FR Abbreviations, 2020). I’m usually slow in the uptake so I decided to try and track down other forum boards besides the skin specific threads to see what terms were used.

As I was thumbing through the pages, I think I may have overestimated the age of UMA use popularity because I thought it started back in 2013-2014 since that is when the site first got started and I felt like UMA was such an old acronym. The General Skins and Accents Pinglist (GASP) started in 2016. I raked the first version for mentions of “UMA” and there was nothing ! The use of “UM skins” and “UM accents” was the norm (GASP, 2016; GASP V2.0, 2016; GASP v2.0, 2018). One of the first instances of UMAs being used in this thread was in 2018 (GASP, 2018). Can I do any better than 2018? It surely is an older term!

The accent trading hub was established in 2014, so chances are, there are some time points there! The results for “user made” predates “UM accents” by one year, and “UMA” by two years which were 2014, 2015, and 2016 respectively (Accents Trading Thread, 2023a; Accents Trading Thread 2023b; Accents Trading Thread 2023c). There were 14 pages of results for “user made”, 64 pages for “UM accents”, and 96 pages for “UMAs” from the accent trading hub thread. “UMA” was used by two people in 2016, then 5 pages worth of posts in 2017, then another 6 pages worth of posts in 2018, and it took off with 25 pages worth of posts in 2019. Clearly the language was developing around 2016 but exploded in popularity in 2018. This trend was similar in the UMA mentions in the skins and accents forum board. I used ctrl + f with UMA to see when it started regularly showing up in titles, and that was in 2018.

Discussion

According to the UMA searches in the discussion boards, do you know what cultural icon got a revival in the minds of mainstream media? Uma Thurman specifically because of Fall Out Boys who released a song with her name. And you know what Uma is like? UMA, User Made Accents. I’m not saying that Fall Out Boys planted the idea in our heads, but it’s quite the coincidence the song came out in 2015 and UMA as an acronym use started in 2016. In fact, when I searched the FR threads for UMA across the site, the early ones were Uma as a name and Uma referring to the song. The earliest mention of UMA that was actually relevant and broke containment from the skins and accents board was in 2017 in the tiny little questions thread asking what does UMA stand for. (tiny little questions, 2017).

I would like to say that while this user wasn’t the first to use it, they repeatedly popped up when I tried to see who used UMA the earliest. And that user is chocomonster, they showed up and consistently used UMAs in the forums since 2016. I’m saying they showed up in the bug reports, suggestions, dragon trading posts using “UMA”. They are definitely an early trendsetter for UMAs and repped it across the forums.

Popularity of UMA rose in 2018, you know what else got popular in 2018? Reselling UMAs to the secondary market. Typing in UMA in a title means you have more characters for other things. You know which artist got really popular in 2018? Ravenhearst. She has since changed her username but I will keep Ravenhearst for the search results legacy.

I know correlation doesn’t equal causation, but her skins were massively popular when she was regularly releasing skins for the highly rendered wings and sky scenes where there were skins sold in the 100s range. I looked at the game database for Ravenhearst’s earliest skin which was #24078 and compared it to my hoard of festival skins as a year benchmark. The Flameforger’s event in 2017 has a skin with #23992 while the Crystalline Gala in 2018 had a skin #25608. She started her night sky niche around skin #25001 so it lines up with the 2017 - 2018 timeline.

A stronger communal identity was also created with groups like accent addicts anonymous in 2017 or aaa for short, which is a group of collectors and artists who came together to make collaborative skins. An early "big hit" for them were the wildclaw male line where the participating artists made flower/halo/wings skins that were super popular at the time but also being hated on by the vocal minority. If you weren't around for the bustle, one example that came out would be Invidious by fenmori or Bewitched by Churyu. Some examples of the aaa's recent work would be like aaa. Amanita Ambrosia where three artists take turns, one sketches the concept, one lines the skin and one renders it .The increase of more people interested in buying skins and artists flexing their creativity allowed for a great burst of interest that has carried on to this day.

Conclusions Can I pinpoint who first used user made accents, UM accents, UMAs? No, but, I can guess that it was sometime between 2015-2016. It is clear that language has evolved in small ways right under our noses and that human memories are terrible as I thought we were using UMAs since the very beginning. The customization and uniqueness of the UMA system on FR is such a joy and I can't wait to see how the community changes in the future!

If someone wants to try to tackle who first said UMA, be my guest and let me know! My earliest mention of UMA was October 2016 in the Accent Trading Hub Accents Trading Thread 2023c.

In conclusion, I love umas and will probably look at their sales and trends more.

#flight rising #flightrising #flight rising meta #flight rising uma #umas #nevros writing

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stvrchaser · 2 years

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last night

( pairing ) : five hargreeves x reader

( about ) : five hargreeves does not dance, but he has to make an exception for the prettiest person in the room on his last night on earth, right?

( warnings ) : profanity, typical pre-apocalyptic angst, right person not enough time trope, some jealous five (or may be that’s a bonus. it’s up to you)

( words ) : 2900

( note ) : i never know how to handle the whole 58-year-old in his 13-year-old body scenario, but for the sake of simplicity let’s just say that the reader is also mentally 50 or so who worked for the Commission. they’ve known each other for like a decade and have been working as partners. anything for a dose of typical old couple sweetness ig <3

You’ve never been to a wedding until now. Fifty-something years of living (because you lost track after that, honestly) and not a single chance to watch a bride walk down the aisle in white, her lover at the altar.

Well, you guess you can thank Sloane and Luther for letting you cross that off your pre-apocalyptic bucket list.

It’s a shame, really, the many decades you’ve lived and wasted. There’s not much time to attend weddings in between assassinations for an organization that’s located outside of the timeline. If only you existed outside of it, too.

It’s a weird topic — one you’ve always found difficult to talk about because, realistically speaking, who else can relate to feeling lonely because they spent years serving a time-traveling agency responsible for maintaining the time-space continuum which practically stripped them of all long-term acquaintances?

Well, there might be one person.

Five Hargreeves has always been a tough code to crack. He isn’t unreadable, per se. He’s just incredibly stubborn. You thought, at first, it might have been a recent development. Maybe the bitterness had come with old age. But seeing as his siblings barely bat an eye to his behavior, after seventeen years of being presumed dead, you figure he’s always been like this.

In his defense, you have a few decades’ worth of tolerance for human interaction. Five likes to think that he isn’t a particularly nasty person. He simply hasn’t found more people worth having around for company. Of course, there is one.

You watch him, standing right next to you in a black suit so similar to his Commission attire it gives you a sense of deja vu. Nothing unpleasant, just yearnful of simpler times. Back then, it had just been the two of you against the world – literally, but it had been fun, nonetheless.

Sloane and Luther do the honors of stepping onto the dancefloor first, followed by Diego and Lila, as the song starts playing.

A couple’s dance in the current state of the universe? Alright, it’s kind of sweet.

“This is officially worse than the apocalypse.” And there he goes, the bright beam of sunshine.

“Right now? Really?” You roll your eyes, disappointed that the moment is ruined. He’s silent for a while, his eyes scanning the room until they land on a bucket of wine and champagne.

“Ah, there we are,” he says to himself. You catch his arm just before he turns away.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“I’m getting wasted,” he shrugged off. “Want anything?” You hit his arm.

“You are not getting wasted on your last night alive!” He laughs it off, like he knows something you don’t. You think he’s probably holding onto a monologue about the benefits of intoxication as opposed to sobriety on an instance as stressful as a Kugelblitz. This wouldn’t exactly be the first time.

In truth, you’re not far off. He would, as a matter of fact, much prefer to numb his mind before Hell freezes over. Of course, not that he would actually be there to watch it happen this time. Stil, he fears the permanence of what’s next to come, and he’s paralyzed by the knowledge that he can’t do anything to stop it.

But Y/N is talking to him, trying to get him to gather whatever’s left of his courage and sanity. You were always doing that. Why were you always doing that?

“What else am I supposed to do? Dance?”

You stay silent, just a second or two, which is apparently enough for Five to figure out that dancing is, in fact, exactly what you’re suggesting.

“You’re kidding.”

“No, no. I’m dead serious.”

“What makes you think I’d want to dance?” It comes out much harsher than he’d intended, and he almost wants to clarify that his question didn’t end in ‘with you’ because he didn’t particularly dislike the scenario if he could enjoy it with you. If only it were under better circumstances.

“You’re a gentleman?”

“We’re too old to be dancing.”

“You’re physically thirteen. Your hip won’t give out if you sway for a few minutes.” He swats your hand away from his arm, his face contorting to a combination of equal exhaustion and exasperation.

His hips might not fail him, but what of the rest of him? Five isn’t sure he can stay upright for too long if the two of you stood any closer together.

“That’s not what I mean. We’re bordering on sixty, Y/N. We have other things to worry about.”

“No, actually, we don’t. We die tomorrow, and correct me if I’m wrong, but that doesn’t exactly give us enough time to worry about retirement or funeral plans.”

“That’s fair, but dancing?” he quips again, like it’s the most ridiculous idea he’s ever heard of. You have the mind to tell him that you’ve successfully arranged a wedding with a few hour’s notice while the rest of the universe perished. How’s that for ridiculous?

“I’m only trying to keep you from getting drunk and doing anything embarrassing.” This startles Five. He’s blacked out before, sure, but he can remember most of everything when he wakes up. Doesn’t he?

“When have I ever done anything like that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. There was that one time you got hammered and professed your undying love for me.”

“What?” Now, you see Lila’s point. Five’s a funny guy. Pissing him off is very therapeutic.

“I’m kidding. You just blacked out and kept saying my name in your sleep.”

“I did not!”

“How would you know? You were asleep.”

“I’m still not dancing.” You flash him a mischievous grin.

It makes him nervous. Nothing good – not by his standards, that is – ever comes from that smile. It’s evil and taunting, founded entirely by malicious intent.

“Oh, I get it! You suck at dancing. The Temps Commission’s best assassin has two left feet! Oh, that’s adorable.” He scoffs, like you’ve said something unbelievable. It’s a fair reaction considering… Well, since when has Five Hargreeves been bad at anything?

“I’m not falling for that.” You place a comforting hand on his waist, bringing him closer. He stares but doesn’t try to pry you off.

He tries not to scream.

“Did you just grab my waist?”

“I’m an affectionate drunk.”

“You’re completely sober.”

“Weddings make me touchy-feely,” you tell him with a grin.

“You can dance with Klaus.” You sigh, withdrawing your arm around him.

If insulting his dancing skills didn’t work, it was time to get serious.

“There’s no need to deny it. Not everyone can be blessed with talent. It isn’t anything to be ashamed of. There was this one guy that took me dancing in ‘62. He was great, but he kept stepping on my right foot. Sometimes, if I shut my eyes, I can still feel it.”

You make a show of lifting your attire just high enough to reveal your shoes, setting your right foot forward. Five eyes you suspiciously.

You did what in ‘62?

“When did that happen?” He prides himself in not sounding too upset, just enough so he could pass it off as disappointment that you’ve wasted time dawdling as opposed to blinding hatred, if you ask.

“A few months ago. Might have been Christmas… no. It was New Year’s Eve, I’m pretty sure. You know, before you came knocking on my door in ‘63 to announce the second apocalypse like the four freaking horsemen. You’re lucky Reginald didn’t make you Number Four, honestly.” Your joke misses him completely. You swear he turns green with envy. It’s absolutely thrilling.

“And you just danced with some random guy?” He calms down a little.

“A very generous lover.”

Lover?! he almost says aloud.

“But, alas, we just weren’t meant to be,” you say dramatically, faking a swoon, and staring into space to mock a pitiful look of longing.

You’re not too surprised to find him trying to link your arms together only seconds later.

“What are you doing?” Five drags you to the dancefloor, an arm hooked with yours.

“Giving you a dance that doesn’t end with your feet swollen.”

“Ah, so you’re doing me a favor?”

“Obviously.”

“Five Hargreeves doing something against his will entirely for someone else’s happiness? My, the world really is ending.”

Not just any ‘someone,’ he thinks. Just you.

“Happiness?” he echoes, sounding impressed. “Good to know you think so highly of me.”

The smug bastard.

“I’m ecstatic! Couldn’t you tell? I’m spending the last dance of my life with a bitter old man simultaneously going through puberty and some male version of menopause.”

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you over the joy radiating from you. My doing, was it?”

“You’re an ass. You’re terrible company. I should have let the other guy keep his spot as my last dance.”

“Weren’t you the one who wanted to dance with me?”

“Yeah, but I’d rather you step on my foot than crush dreams.”

“Oh, now I’m your ‘dream?’”

“No, moron. I wanted to dance. It was on my bucket-list and everything. You don’t happen to know Tango, do you?”

“You have a bucket list?”

Five looks away, hiding the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. It’s a rare treasure to lure any genuine sign of joy from him that doesn’t come in the form of snark and sarcasm. You suppose you’re lucky enough to have seen it multiple times. You might be the luckiest person in the world for being able to have the real thing, time limit aside.

“Some of us have dreams that don’t include dying from alcohol poisoning.”

“Absolutely,” he brushes aside, “What’s next on the list? Eating fries with ice cream? Staying awake through a movie marathon? What beats ‘dancing with someone who won’t break all ten of my toes?’”

Even as you bicker back and forth, you find your fingers intertwined with his. His other hand rests gently on the small of your back and you bring him close with an arm around his shoulder. It’s a wonder how the two of you fit together so naturally, so seamlessly in spite of the way your words constantly clash. He’s composed entirely of rough edges, jagged stone melding with equally stubborn steel. That’s what the two of you have always been like – a symphony of crescendos set to make the world tremble.

It has always been embedded into your mind that if you were destined to bring the world to ruin, you would do it together. But now the two of you will watch as it falls apart, powerless to the ruination of a life you want to conquer. The universe must think itself hilarious.

“What is it? I can practically hear you thinking.”

“I don’t think telepathy is one of your powers.”

“I’m serious, Y/N. What are you thinking?” His brows furrow with concern and you smile because, not that you’ve necessarily forgotten, but it’s a reminder that he cares.

“Nothing.” You shake your head, looking a little dazed. ”But don’t you think… Well… We look kind of funny, don’t we?”

Well, not really. Personally, he thinks you look breathtaking.

“You look terrible. Leave me out of it.” Five smiles. “Honestly, when someone forces you to dance you think they’d at least try not to step on your feet.”

“Oh, Five Hargreeves, you are a man of many, many words. You really know how to flatter a person. Who knew you could be so romantic?” You lift your arm from his shoulder, tousling his perfectly combed hair. He pinches your side in retaliation.

“Hey! Rude!”

“You deserved it.”

“You started it!”

“No, you did. But, alright, I’ll humor you. Why do we look funny?”

“Shit, where should I start? We’re in our late fifties and we look just barely out of middle school.”

“Hm, never would have thought of that.”

“I had to set up a wedding reception in less than a day! Do you know how hard it is to find flowers when the planet is literally falling apart? There is not a single garden within the one-mile radius that’s left around here!”

“I can imagine.” Five is grinning so wide, you’re compelled to act as an extension. It’s like your mouth feels obligated to do the same – to express the utter joy no single person is capable of expressing.

Five doesn’t understand how he can feel so weightless in spite of everything. With one foot in his grave, how is it possible that he feels so delightfully unburdened?

“And you are laughing at my very visible distress! We’re the last of mankind and we’re dancing in fancy suits and dresses in a creepy, ancient hotel like a couple of teenagers at prom! And you find it funny!”

Oh, of course. He feels delighted because you’re here.

“I think you’re funny.”

“I know, I’m hilarious!” Five shakes his head, clearly amused.

“And to think I was actually worried.”

“About me?”

“Who else?” Your eyes soften, an expression clearly screaming awe exchanging any and all concern. His face contorts, nose scrunching the way it always does when he tries to look irritated.

He’s not. He’s wonderful.

“That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever—”

“Don’t ruin it.”

“Don’t act like you’re not enjoying this.”

“Bickering with you? I’d have to be a lunatic to enjoy that.”

“My point still stands, now with supporting evidence you provided.”

“That’s doesn’t—”

“They were your words! You said them yourself, Five, and I know too goddam well you don’t say anything you don’t mean.”

“And you know me so well, don’t you?” It’s a challenge, maybe even an invitation to drive the conversation closer to the flames, but you feel too tired to pull through. Not of him — never of him. Still, there’s something about knowing that what happens tonight is the end-all-be-all. Is this how you want to spend the last moments of your life? Your last moments with Five? You feel the fire extinguish, tucking away the childishness of the interaction. Instead, you say, as genuinely as you can muster:

“Yeah. I like to think so. I would like to, at the very least.” Five catches the change in your tone – the wistful and longing plea. If you know him, he knows you just as well. Because he cares, no matter how badly he wants to believe otherwise. So he understands what you wish for, hears the grief in your voice because the two of you know that with the world ending there’s no time to get to know each other.

There’s no time to get to love each other — not for the numerous flaws you’ve discovered, and certainly not for those left unveiled.

“Fifty-eight years and it just wasn’t enough, was it?” The two of you share a mutual understanding then, exchanged entirely through glittering eyes under dim lights, that the loss is something for the both of you to mourn.

“Guess not. But that’s just another dream to bury, right?” You try to smile. Really, you do. But Five suddenly looks anguished, maybe because you’d been so quick to admit defeat.

“It shouldn’t have to be. Ten years that I wasted — ten years where you were right there, but I couldn’t be bothered to get my shit together. Fuck, how did we get here?”

“Do you think an entire lifetime would have been enough?” you whisper, hoping that the question won’t sound too grim or lacking faith of what you two could have been. The last thing you want is to make him doubt the reality of what you do have.

“Probably not,” he whispers back, “But it still would have been nice to have that with you.” He sounds so despaired you could weep. “I thought I could, you know. When we got back here, I thought we could start over. I thought I could fix things. Seems like I’m always wrong, nowadays.”

“For what it’s worth, you were right about one thing.” Five chokes out a laugh, low and uncertain.

You hate it.

You want to rid him of doubt and revive the version of him who had been so sure of himself and what the world had to offer. You want the stubborn, unrelenting man with enough willpower to last the both of you for lifetimes.

“I think I’ll need you to remind me when,” he says in a way so devoid of hope that you can hear your heart shatter.

“You were right about you being my dream. You have been… for a long time.”

The dance comes to a halt as Five’s feet remain planted. A handful of emotions flash through his eyes, down the entirety of his face, all far too quickly for you to distinguish. There’s a glimpse of confusion and disbelief, then of something more intense. You’re scared it might be anger or disgust. Or worse, it could be pity.

But then your hands are encased in his, and the gesture is so wonderfully gentle that your anxiety dissipates almost entirely, a fraction only remaining in anticipation for what comes next. You watch as Five battles himself, his grasp tightening with every victory that passes.

Silently, he allows himself reprieve and braces as his walls come down.

You’re her dream, his own voice reverberates in his mind. You have been, for a long time. For what might as well be the first time, he lets go.

“So have you.”

#spreading misery little by little #i don’t know how to write happy endings #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreaves x reader #number five #the umbrella academy #tua3 #tua season 3 #tua netflix #angst

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linkemon · 19 days

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Part of your world (Azul Ashengrotto x Reader)

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you're interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

"ʙᴜᴛ ᴀ ᴍᴇʀᴍᴀɪᴅ ʜᴀs ɴᴏ ᴛᴇᴀʀs, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇғᴏʀᴇ sʜᴇ sᴜғғᴇʀs sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴍᴏʀᴇ."

ᴛᴡɪsᴛᴇᴅ ᴠᴇʀsɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴀᴍᴏᴜs sᴄᴇɴᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴍᴇʀᴍᴀɪᴅ sɪɴɢs ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄᴀᴠᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ. ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪғ ɪɴ ᴘᴜʀsᴜɪᴛ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ? ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ʟᴇғᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ғᴀᴄᴇ? ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ɪɴғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ:

ᴛʜᴇ ǫᴜᴏᴛᴇ ᴜsᴇᴅ ɪs ᴀ ғʀᴀɢᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏғ "ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴍᴇʀᴍᴀɪᴅ" ʙʏ ʜᴀɴs ᴄʜʀɪsᴛɪᴀɴ ᴀɴᴅᴇʀsᴇɴ.

Azul looked around his workshop. He couldn't say he had made it but compared to what he started with, it was a step forward. The great cauldron glowed with a dark purple glow. The smell of the potion coming from inside was foreign. No matter how many times he prepared it, it was always the smell of something he had never experienced before. The books said that the potion should smell of earth. Not that Ashengrotto had a chance to tell what it really smelled like.

He carefully measured out the seaweed, poured in a few tears, and sprinkled some ground grains of sand from the surface. He grabbed a large ladle and began to mix carefully. The eight tentacles certainly made his work easier but the work still required his full concentration. It was one of the few times in his life that he didn't completely hate his arms. After all, they were useful.

He slowly poured the still shimmering liquid into the vial and capped it.

— A beautiful night to escape from home! — The loud voice startled him and he barely grabbed the vial before it could shatter against the rock.

He saw [Reader] at the entrance to the cave. Not that he expected anyone else. This was her haven. A place she discovered a few years ago. So far, the only person who visited it, apart from her, was him.

He set the potion aside next to the others and pulled out the carefully prepared box to put them all away.

— You're not saying anything, Azul. — The girl tilted her head in that unique way.

Ashengrotto never talked much. So her worry surprised him.

— What would you like to hear? — he replied calmly.

— It's not what I want to hear that matters, it's what you want to say — she said.

Azul didn't answer. He just curled his arms closer to himself.

What was he supposed to say? What was he thinking? People never wanted to hear what he actually had to say. That's why he preferred to stay silent. Otherwise he would end up bruised. Like because of the mean friends who teased him when he was younger. Although, now that he thought about it, he probably could have taken them out with one swipe of his tentacle back then. However, he preferred to curl up in a ball, cry and allow himself to be kicked mercilessly. Crybaby. That's what they called as he snaked through the old clump of seaweed behind the school. Salty tears mixed with the sea water. And with the crying came the ink. The dark, sticky goo that was his greatest embarrassment and appeared when he was too stressed and sad.

[Reader] wouldn't laugh at him. The logical thinking part of him knew this perfectly well. After all, she had already seen him in this ugliest form possible. The day he first appeared in this cave. As an uninvited guest. Splashing and spreading ink around. He saw a glow amidst the murky and dirty water. The first thing he saw were the scales, shimmering with all shades of gold. Seeming to catch the sunlight coming through the hole above his head. Then he saw the mermaid's tail. Something he himself would have died for at the time. Only at the very end did he see a face. A little scared but curious.

No, she wouldn't laugh if he told her. She would be sad though. And Azul couldn't stand that.

— I'm thinking about your trip up there — he confessed.

It wasn't a lie, just an avoidance of the truth. He slowly became a master at it.

— I'll miss you but at the same time I'm so excited! — [Reader] seemed to be beaming.

It all started with his experiments. If he hadn't been here that day, maybe his mermaid friend wouldn't have wanted to come up at all. She wanted to help him, so she lent a place for a workshop among her finds. And she had plenty of them. The Coral Sea often washed up things that people on the surface weren't necessarily interested in. Garbage for some, priceless treasures for others. Some were found, others were bought at auctions from people who had contact with the surface or still inhabited it. The latter, however, happened rarely. The costs (including shipping) were usually astronomical and exceeded the budget of many adults underwater, let alone a child.

Between all these treasures he was stuck, with the start of his magic potion business. It wasn't much. A board, a half-decaying shelf and a leaky cauldron. [Reader] somehow found the rest over time. They patched up what they could and he started creating potions, which until then he only knew from books in the underwater library. Sometimes he managed to sell something and for some change he bought ingredients that were inaccessible and difficult to obtain. He swam, cried and spread ink around. So on the surface, not much had changed but now he swam, cried and spread ink in the company. And [Reader] was very grateful company. With her shiny tail, beautiful hair and a wonderful voice that he could listen to for hours as she talked about the world above. He seemed to be an incongruous companion for her. A purple monster with eight tentacles.

Maybe it was this sort of inferiority complex created in his mind at that time that made him devote so much time to help her fulfill her dream. He tried to brew a potion of transformation into a human with one's own hand (or rather tentacle). And he succeeded. After many tries. He couldn't remember if he had been so proud of himself before. Probably not. It was the most expensive vial he had ever held in his life. And he gave it back to [Reader]. So that she could go to the surface and see with her own eyes everything she had only dreamed about before. But when she came back, there was hunger in her. She wanted desperately to go back upstairs for more. Especially after she met SOMEONE upstairs one time. Her father was not happy, not to mention furious. He tried at all costs to bring the dreamer down to earth. It was then that for the first time in their history, Azul stood over the worried mermaid and not the other way around. In a fit of determination, he promised that he would make a whole stock of potions for her if necessary. [Reader] took this promise very seriously. Since then, all their collaborative efforts have led to this moment. To get a sufficient supply of money and potion so that she could somehow arrange herself on the surface. Just enough for her to be sure that she will be able to find a job and save up to buy more vials of the magical potion. Eventually, she also had to rent an apartment and constantly pay the bills.

The help Azul gave her was an adventure of sorts. However, it was difficult for him to get used to the thought that it was coming to an end.

Sometimes, looking at HIS photo on Magicam, where the mermaid had set up an account, he had the impression that the boy from the surface was like a statue. Beautiful but empty. However, he stood proudly on the pedestal she had placed him on in her mind and he refused to come down. He might think so but he wouldn't say it out loud. He even caught himself going to his profile and comparing himself to him. But no matter how hard he stared at the screen flashing in the dark room, he could never see anything he was better at. He took off his glasses, looked in the mirror and used ink to cover his pimpled face that he didn't want to see. On nights like this, he was glad that the reception in the Coral Sea was rather poor. Otherwise, he would spend his days staring at people he considered prettier than himself.

When he thought about it later, it occurred to him that at least in potion-making he had surpassed this two-legged opponent. If he couldn't be beautiful, at least he had a chance to be rich. In a while. But with whom was he to enjoy the shiny thaumarks? What else could he spend it on apart from the workshop, if he wasn't interested in anything else in life? [Reader] wouldn't be around anymore so she could use them to buy a new statuette from the surface and he didn't need much of them. Azul, unlike the boy from above, helped her fulfill her dream. At least he could take that much credit for it.

Azul wasn't entirely sure what he and [Reader] talked about that night. The memories slowly faded away like waves crashing against the shores above their heads. Maybe they were remembering old times. Perhaps she also mentioned something about how to get rid of mean kids, even though he hadn't had problems with them in a long time. He vaguely noticed a round, purple shell being pressed into its tentacle. The last collectible from the surface for the collection here. The same one that he attached to his hat some time later and that he didn't have the heart to part with. He was the one who would take care of the cave from then on. At least until [Reader] can visit her father again after his anger has passed. And even though Azul sometimes felt like he didn't fit in the small cave with his grand, slowly growing ambitions, a lump rose in his throat. The thought of being alone. Without this ubiquitous warmth and laughter.

— I will miss you, so much. — These were the last words he heard from her underwater. The next ones were only by phone.

Azul handed her a casket decorated with shells. The purple glow of the vials shone between them. Without thinking much, the mermaid placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. It meant nothing, as he well knew. It was a form of thanks. The real one was reserved for the lucky guy on the surface.

Despite this awareness, his tentacle involuntarily moved to the place where her red coral lips had rested a moment ago. It was like payment for a contract, even though he hadn't signed any at the time.

— Stay. — Came out from his lips. However, it was silent. Too quiet. It sank somewhere in the depths as [Reader], clutching the box tightly, swam to the surface. The glow of the world above them that her scales reflected that night seemed to be what he remembered most. They stood out amidst the dark ink as on the day he met her. He was a crybaby again in a clump of seaweed.

He couldn't then see the pained look on the little mermaid's face as she left her friend.

"But a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more."

#azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland x reader #little mermaid #little mermaid x reader #oneshot

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cringetownusa · 11 months

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This was meant to be for mermay, but i do NOT have the energy or drive to finish any of the lighting or rendering, so instead there's some MerWarner ideas and a drabble under the cut for you. [commissions]

i was thinking that maybe their eggs got swept by a current and fell into a ditch, so when they hatched they didn't have anyone, so yakko learns what he can by watching fish and mermaid from kinda afar

learns how to like mermaid chirp from watching them, and how to speak by watching humans when he tries to go to the top of the water out of curiosity (he still very small at this point so nobody spots him) but he hatched first, and kinda just. took the other two eggs with him once his arms were big enough to hold them

(TINY eggs, so took him maybe a week)

when wakko hatched yakko worried he was doing something wrong because wakko would respond to things yakko said, but he never actually said anything much.

dot took a long time to hatch. she was the smallest, and she was a frail baby, and she couldn't swim on her own right out the gate so she would hold onto her brother's pinkies and they would try and get her to get enough strength to move her tail up and down enough the gain momentum she also grows a lot slower than her brothers wakko will probably catch up in a couple years dot will always just. be even smaller than another mermaid her age would normally be

--- ok second break

Drabble:

When the other egg took so much longer to hatch, Yakko had begun to worry.

He'd felt like he'd done something wrong, Wakko had hatched just fine as far as he knew, so he assumed the little egg would hatch not too long after; but it hadn't just taken a little longer. A lot longer, so much in fact, that Wakko was now big enough that when Yakko had gifted his little brother his old red cap, it fit comfortably on his head.

But still, nothing from the egg.

They both knew it was safe, the little one was ok, because there had been so many days where the tiny egg shook just ever so slightly, so many days where both brothers would rush to the egg, eager to greet their new sibling into their vast ocean world.

Despite their wishes, more time passed with no new sibling to greet.

They had begun to sleep in shifts to watch the egg. Wakko would curl his small body around the even smaller egg while he watched, and yakko would lay belly on sand of the cave and burble quietly at the creature before him.

It was on one of the nights where Wakko was watching when things finally changed. Just like usual, when the little egg shook, Yakko was awoken instantly by his brother tugging on his ear fins, pointing to the movement.

Just like usual, they both rushed back and watched on as their future sibling struggled at the walls of their home. After a couple minutes, both brothers assumed that nothing would come of it, that this would be another false alarm. But, the egg moved differently. It rolled slightly, like the little one in there was taking up all their energy to press their face against the shell wall.

Both brothers laid close to the ground, watching with rapt attention. The egg bulged ever so slightly, before a tiny split appeared, just a dot of red nose following after. It stilled, then the nose retreated. Yakko and Wakko looked at each other in disappointment after a moment, thinking this would be all they would see of their future kin today. Instead of stopping at that, however, the tiny form inside darted at the crack again, hitting with enough force that the entire soft shell rolled once, before running into the small hand of the eldest brother, finally releasing their new sibling.

Yakko beamed at his new little sister, then to Wakko, who looked at her with the exact same amount of awe.

Barely the size of his pinky, he came up with the name instantly, then helped her onto his pointer finger, leading her up to his eyes.

"Hello Dot."

#animaniacs #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner #the warner siblings #mermay #my art #unfinished #my writing

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alexanderlightweight · 7 months

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Hi there! for a prompt i was wondering if you would be up for something where Magnus learns that Alec has so many more responsibilities than he thought he did. I just love the idea of Magnus being sure that being High Worlock was so much more challenging than being the HOTI. Thank you!

i played with the prompt a bit and this is some of Magnus helping and witnessing how much responsibility Alec is taking on and being incredibly proud of him and impressed (imo they are equally challenging and complicated jobs but in extensively different ways. on one hand, magnus has a great deal many more people to look out for and a lot of conflicts to be aware of, especially within downworld tensions etc while alec is responsible in a different way for his people, since they expect to live and die by his word and he's also politicing with fossilized clave brains and he hunts nightly).

i hope you enjoy

<3 lumine

“I adore you—” Magnus murmurs as he presses a kiss to the shell of Alexander’s ear.

“I love you too babe,” his darling says back, utterly sincere even in his distraction, a little pleased smile curling his lips even as his brow furrows as he considers the tablet in his hands. “Now what do you think of simulating ice in the training room with magic? An official commission of course, I’m documenting everything in case other Institutes want to follow my lead with training.” Magnus already knows Alexander is planning — hoping — for that outcome. “I want to get them used to ice before I let them out this winter.”

Magnus makes an inquiring noise and Alexander shrugs with an amused but tired sigh.

“Baby shadowhunters learning to use speed runes and unused to moving at those speeds on ice with this much concrete and mundane vehicles? It’s a mess and I know for my family, it ended up pretty bloody the first dozen times until we got the hang of it.” Alexander shrugs as if it’s nothing big but Magnus can see the tightness of his shoulders, “it felt fun the first few times, but it got old. More quickly for me than Izzy and Jace. They were more frustrated but—” and Magnus wants to reach into Alexander’s chest and scoop out the sorrow binding his heart, “I got tired of seeing my little brother and sister covered in blood or with bones shattering through their skin.”

It makes Magnus sick, to think of Alexander like that. To think of the fact that they were probably out on their own already when that happened.

“I’m happy to do it,” Magnus tells him and his palm turns on Alexander’s thigh, offering up his fingers with a wiggle that catches his boy’s attention. A hand leaves the tablet to join his own and Magnus hums contentedly, “I can easily summon some gymnastic equipment and ice it over.” At Alexander’s look he sends his own, “I’ve seen what you and your hunters can do, my love. Don’t look at me like that, we both know whose right.”

It’s Magnus, and he takes great pride in the fact that the only response Alexander can give is a rueful huff.

“That would probably help them figure out balance easier and in a much more controlled manner.” Alexander finally admits and then his mouth twitches, “not to mention that this group will practically consider it a reward. It’s a fun way for them to learn, they won’t treat that lightly. I’ll probably have to put a limit on how much time I let them train in there.”

Magnus laughs, unable to help it and he can’t help but tug on Alexander’s hand until he can press his lips against the little scars where Alexander’s knuckles once split.

“Now, tell me again, lovely. What hidden weapon did you decide to first teach your cherubs?”

“Blowdart.” Alexander says and he puts down the tablet to summon an elegant, adamas blowdart to his palm.

Magnus bites back his appreciation, because this isn’t the time for it, unfortunately.

Alexander has given enough of his day over and while Magnus has appointments, he’s more than willing to let them run late and stay a bit longer with his love. Especially when he gets more insight and a better understanding of Alexander’s responsibility. His hunter isn’t hesitant to speak with Magnus, but he rarely wants to bring clave or Institute issues to their home. Oh he’ll pace and rant about one or two specific indivduals — typically clave — stupidity, but he rarely opens up about the intricacies of his nights.

Magnus knows he trains, himself and others. That he hunts and overseas reports and and that each head of the various departments reports to him in finality. There are a dozen other responsibilities that Magnus knows about almost peripherally, but Alexander also tends to assume that Magnus already knows. He treats each duty that he — finally — will mention as an afterthought. As thought it’s impossible that Magnus didn’t already know of it.

As flattering as it is, it’s also maddening in these instances. Magnus supposes it is a bit his own fault. He’d made quite a show of his ‘knowledge’ when teasing Alexander when they’d first met and later in pettiness when he’d come for help.

It leaves Magnus hungry for each piece of information that Alexander lets slip, his boy never guessing that Magnus hoards each piece as a new sliver of a grand puzzle.

It’s a delight to unravel Alexander, especially when Magnus is rewarded each time with evidence of Alexander’s abilities.

His darling never disappoints.

#lumine writes #writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #shadowhunters #magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec

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cure-icy-writes · 30 days

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Okay so. A lot of people have been making cute little dungeon meshi aus where it's modern, but specifically the cast lives in one place. Figured I should maybe share mine?

Anyways. Dungeon Meshi but it's midwestern.

-Senshi, i think, is a regular presence in the church but is the kind of christian that the pastor has beef with. He has an apron with two fish and five loaves of bread on it, and can be found at pretty much every barbecue and church potluck. No one's sure if he's really devoted to jesus or just heard the story of a guy feeding an entire crowd and started showing up to church to feed people. He has caused two married men to have their bisexual awakenings.

-The town they all live in has an extremely high density of restaurants, meaning the only thing to do around there is go out to eat. The gang goes out to eat new places a lot together!

-Izutsumi is a warrior cats kid who was probably bullied for hissing and biting the other kids. The gang recognizes that she's not mean, she's just badly socialized and also seventeen. She lives in a group home, but has been running away less ever since she got promised regular meals.

-Related: Chilchuk is a union guy who is covertly making sure every restaurant they go to is up to code. He keeps shutting down places for not having adequate safety measures for their employees.

-Izutsumi has decided she's going to hang out with Chilchuk sometimes and will stop by his workplace. He's insistent that he's not adopting any more children, but has been teaching her how to budget, how to lie convincingly enough to get a job, and the most ethical places to shoplift from with the fewest risks because she's going to steal things anyways.

-Marcille has never been to a cornfield in her life. She's a Chicago kid, who really misses her deep dish pizza and that really good Italian place, but she's here to study some rare microorganisms.

-Marcille studies a very weird field of medicine that involves looking for medical uses in odd places. She's looking to eliminate class divides in lifespan by trying to find more affordable medicines for diseases that primarily affect the lower class.

-Her father died of asbestos poisoning from working in unsafe conditions when she was a kid, so she's especially alert for it, and gets a little neurotic around flu season.

-Laios and Falin used to go to the creek behind their house all the time to catch crawdads, and sometimes he'll still do it for old time's sake.

-Laios flunked out of college because they couldn't handle his autism rizz. He's going to trade school for the culinary arts, but he keeps trying to cook things he shouldn't.

-Laios checked out the massive dragon books from the library and cried when he found out they weren't real.

-He does furry commissions online, but he's not the best with customer negotiations and keeps wondering how many nipples someone's fursona has. Chilchuk helped him build his profile to appeal to commissioners who like speculative biology.

-Falin watched her brother flunk and went "hm, I think I will not." she's an apprentice at a local gardening shop. You think she's a normal sweet cottagecore kind of girl but then she starts gushing about soil nutrients and sustainability and you realize. Oh. Oh this is the kind of girl who would romanticize being buried under a tree and having it consume her bones.

-Laios wears shirts with anatomically correct dinosaur skeletons on them, but he has to order them online and frequently complains that there are no good clothing shops nearby. Senshi heard him say this, and introduced him to fabric paint.

#dungeon meshi midwestern AU

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thatfreshi · 8 days

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"Light-Headed"

A short sequel to "Undeserving," commissioned by @mosshugs

(Please note that the original piece dealt heavily with disordered eating behaviors and that this one is similar, but a happy ending <3)

It’s been a while since the fall of Cazador, and all your other adventures have come to an end. You’ve settled down since then, Astarion by your side. You stopped counting the days a long time ago, how long it had been since his old master had died. Maybe he stopped counting as well, but you know against your better judgement that he probably hasn’t. Since those times, your group has found new ways of life. Gale has started teaching young wizards, Wyll moved on with Lae’zel to help the army of Baldur’s Gate, and so on. You and Astarion though? You’ve spent a lot of time in your new home, organizing, collecting new trinkets, decorating, building, and overall enjoying having a home. This hasn’t stopped your personal ongoing struggles though.

The two of you have your own issues, things that didn’t end after Cazador died, and things that would probably never end. Especially in Astarion’s case, immortality leaves him with a lot of problems to solve, and a lot of those problems may never have solutions. One morning though, when the two of you are lying in bed, he manages to solve just one debacle.

“Darling? Are you awake?”

It’s slightly lit, the bedroom, with Astarion on the darker side of the bed. You are awake, having just woken up from a long slumber. Turns out being new homeowners is quite tiresome, leaving the two of you with much rest to catch up on.

“Yes, I am awake. Sadly.”

It seems a though shuteye is never enough these days, especially afte trying to catch up on all the missed sleep on your journey.

“I thought… and only if you’d want to of course, that we could try feeding again? I don’t know what it is but today, I feel better than normal. As if this pang of hunger is somehow, more delicate than it usually feels.”

You barely spoke about his feeding habits, but it has been quite difficult for him to find energy with his lack of drinking from you. You try every now again to let him drink your blood, but it never seems quite right. Even with Cazaor gone, the wounds are still there. It seems like maybe, some of them will always be there, no matter how hard either of you try.

“Of course my love, always.”

A common response on your end, one that he quite likes. It’s nice for him to know that there is always a source of food for him, that scarcity is no longer in existence. Security, what a luxury that should only be a necessity.

Somewhere in the middle of your thoughts, you feel a sharp pain in your neck. This process must have happened over a hundred times by now, so you’re used to the cold, the sting, and all of those fun metaphors people use in reference to vampire bites. While you’re thinking though, trying not to put any pressure on him, you ponder what is on the agenda today. There’s still much to be done, many more pieces of furniture to procure, a garden to start outside…

And after a while of listing things off in your head, you realize that for the first time in a long time, you’re starting to get light-headed. Soon after, he releases from your throat, and there’s a sense of joy in your dizzy state. You try not to make a big deal out of it, considering you don’t want to scare him with some big gesture or make it seem like a successful feeding is abnormal, but he’s the one to outwardly express it first. When you lock eyes with him, he’s actually tearing up a little.

“That was… good. It was good for once.”

“It was?”

“Yes.”

And that response brings down the dam, and he fully begins to cry. This isn’t something you see from him often, but this issue with him being unable to feed has been plaguing the two of you for months. You find yourself soon crying along with him.

“How do you feel?”

“I don’t know. Strong? Peaceful? Not like I should be punished?”

That word pangs in your chest, ‘punished,’ as if he should ever be punished for sustenance. Sadly, you know that reality was all too real in the past.

“Good. You should feel strong, because you are.”

He takes one of your hands in both of his.

“Thank you my dear. Maybe I’m stronger than I thought I was.”

Is every other feeding from then on perfect? No, of course not. Healing is never quite as linear as we would like it to be, and it certainly isn’t as pretty either. There are horrible moments in the future, but also grand ones, ones like these that pull at your heartstrings and remind you why you ever fell in love. And slowly, day by day, the grand moments outweigh the horrible ones, and your dear Aster becomes better and better because of it, and the two of you become better because of each other.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #angst #comfort

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kayrllylikesblitzwing · 1 year

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Am NOT

DEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hi people who see this post I am back I AM SORRY for being so gone my brain got taken over by brainrot for something I’m writing and then when I finally got out of that slump and decided to go back to drawing tfs, I also opened commissions at the same time and then…… BOOM swamped I got a lot of commissions for someone who had never done them before and now I’m just finishing up one big one before I can go back to drawing for myself!!!!!

Anyway here are some low effort low quality shitposts I did between in commission and free time some of these are kinda old ngl and I forgot to slap my logo thing on a lotta of them do OOPS anyway the fun part is I’ve been trying to draw Blitzwing more like hhow he is in animated and tbh that’s kinda fun I love his many designs EXCEPT for the travisverse one because that was not Blitzwing that was a KNOCKOFF!!!!!!

Anyway I, Kay, 1# blitzfan promise I will draw more k swear I swear I swear I just gotta catch up on earthspark anddddddddddddddd yeah commisisnn

Thank WVERYONE who takes the time out of my daay to look at my post I love you I adore y8u you’re pretty cool AND awesome 😊😏😏😏🫡🫡🫡 have a SPLENDDI DAY

#transformers #maccadam #tf rp #transformers roleplay #shitpost #tf art #transformers art #transformers rp #transformers oc #transformers original character #blitzwing #should I tag astrotrain #he’s in one shitpost idkkk #nawwww I’m not gonna do it CANT MAKE ME #I wanna make a tag for strobe thoooo but idk what I would calll ittttttt #hashtagnobitchesbug #I think that fits 😍😍😍😍😍😍#also courtney is here too 🙄 I guess 🙄#I think I’m gonna redesign her because I don’t like how her hair looks too much like my hair in shape like I HAVE CURTAIN BANGS TOO

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triplesilverstar · 6 months

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Retrospective, A Of Bullets, Bandits, Ghosts and Typhoons blurb

Rating: PG

Pairing: Vash X F!Reader

CW: Physical description, mentions of pain, Vash POV, Boner

Word count: 981

A/N: So a while back I had some art of what I picture when I think of Snipes commissioned. So I didn’t want to just share the art (even though it is amazing!) so I figured why not write a little blurb from Vash’s POV about it? So here it is. As well under the banner is both the art that was done by the lovely and amazing Creamson and the blurb. Please check her out here!

As well, do not reupload/repost her art anywhere as I was also on the fence about sharing this commission because of art theft. Please, seriously, do not steal her artwork.

Vash had to admit as the sun rose you were far more than he had ever expected to meet in his long life. On the surface you looked like so many he had met before, just another bounty hunter.

Yet.

You were far from that.

He’d noticed it the first time in the diner at Jeneora rock. That felt like ages ago now, when he spied you at the bar eating your meal. Your dust stained coat that at first he had thought was just tan. Now he knew better, the dark fabric was simply easily stained allowing you to blend in more with your surroundings when you were traveling. The inside lining was bright by comparison and housed far more pockets than the thin material should have allowed.

Vash had also learned it was far heavier than it looked, and had seen it hold up to the largest of small arms fire. Just bruises left in your supple skin that were usually gone the next day. Something else that had surprised him more than once, something that had brought him closer.

Watching you on the other side of the camp as you rose giving your shoulders a shake and tilting your head to the side until he heard a pop that made him flinch as you sighed in relief. Doing his best to not let the sliver of skin revealed by the rising of your form fitting shirt get the best of him as his pants felt tighter than they should have. Your pants were slung just low enough that with your shirt it gave the appearance of you having hip windows.

Turning away to gulp as Vash rolled his blanket up to stuff back into his bag, hoping the thoughts of some old ladies from the last town would help get his little problem to fade.

If it had just been your appearance he might not have found you as intriguing. Your well worn cargo pants that were the shades of sand and brown boots certainly didn’t leave anything about your lower half to the imagination. Your backside was a nice view on days when the two of you were traveling through the dunes.

Giving his head a shake as those thoughts were not helping his little problem.

What had truly drawn Vash in had been your eyes, not the color, not the shape. The sorrow and pain hidden in their depths, your eyes reminded him of his own. A fake smile plastered to fool others when you choose to interact with people, but unlike him you were content to let your look of bland disinterest rule your visage.

It had been enough to make him interested in you past that first meeting, and your attempts to catch him afterward. Well and the fact you held true to your word about giving him time and space. He wasn’t used to humans always keeping their word, not that he could ever hold it against them.

A grunt pulling him back to the present as you pulled your jacket on and slipped your gloves back on your hands before running one through your short locks. Had watched you once take the knife you kept in your boot to hack chunks of it off your head, stating it was getting too long to manage in the desert. You were like that so often, function over form.

You ignored convention. Snorting as he remembered when you made a proposal to an unknown cook because it was the best tasting food you claimed you had. Sure it had been him, but it was a rather unconventional proposal he had been happy to turn down. Certain that back then you would have turned him in for his bounty if he had walked out of that kitchen.

And yet.

Part of him wanted to be wrong.

So he had taken risks and gotten to know you better in strange and yet unconventional ways. Then when he got caught while trying to lay low by those bandits that doubled as kidnappers he thought it would be the end of him. Instead you appeared, so when that ramshackled place fell apart he couldn’t leave you. Something more pushed him to reach down and grab you, the surprise on your face had been clear.

From there it had been a wild ride of learning more about you as the two of you traveled together. You didn’t like flashy things, and you weren’t a fan of loud spaces most of the time. You were used to being on your own but you had zero sense of direction, another thing that didn’t add up for him.

Yet with all of your adventures, he kept coming back to the same thing. You had dark secrets locked up tight inside of you, and you sought some kind of redemption. Just like him.

“Vash!” His head snapping towards the sound of your voice, standing there with your bag on and your rifle in hand, a look of concern on your face. “Sheesh, you ready to leave or what? I’ve been calling your name for a few minutes now.” You move closer, eyes narrowed before your hand is shooting out to press your fingers against his forehead. “You look a little flushed, are you feeling ok?”

“I’m fine, Snipes. Really. Just lost in thought.” Sending you a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and he knows you don’t buy his mask but neither of you questions the other.

“Well let's get going then, cus I wanna sleep in a real bed tonight.” Nodding Vash hoists his bag from the sand, both of you heading off across the planet towards the next town. Maybe one of these days he’ll get around to telling you how much you mean to him, knowing if he said something now you’d think he’d have some kind of fever or something.

Back to the series

And now the Art!

Cream, if you're reading this I will say it again. I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!!! THANK YOU!!!

#trigun #vash the stampede x reader #trigun stampede x reader #twink writes #vash x reader #trigun stampede #tristamp #vash the stampede #BBG&Ts #oc art #Creamson

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the-blind-geisha · 9 months

Text

The City Bathed in Eternal Night

Description: The professor of the City of Vesser is well known all about the land for fighting a werewolf curse. But hardly would you have imagine that he would ask of you to be his assistant.

Pairing: M!Werewolf x F!reader

Rating: NSFW

Words: 6722

Commission for @thatoneslooth

The City of Vesser.

It was a beautiful city filled with glittering lights, which adorned the many buildings that lined the streets. It was a gorgeous, once bustling city that was bathed in endless night.

Once, it did prosper… until a wicked werewolf curse seemed to tear the city, and her people, apart.

The train ride was always peaceful. Very few people felt compelled to risk traveling here as nobody knew how this dreadful curse truly worked—how it could affect people. Some even panicked that it could travel from person to person like a plague.

Regardless, it didn't prevent you or others from visiting. You didn't live here, but you needed to get to town for other reasons beyond just visiting this time.

It was miles away from any nearby town, village, or city. It lived alone near the mountainside, shrouded in that mysterious darkness that never lifted.

But you couldn't deny the beauty of it. Even sitting alone in your seat, you saw the approaching maw of the mountain that would open up to the jeweled City of Vesser in time.

Sometime during the drive, you glanced over and noticed a man resting in a way that made him seem like he had fallen asleep on the train ride.

He was well dressed, even wearing a type of dark coat with a fancy top hat resting off to the side of his seat that you would expect from someone of Vesser over anybody else in the world. The cane on its own was quite lavish as well. The grip had beautiful swirling designs. Your eyes traced over them many times before feeling a bit sick in doing so.

Honestly, he didn't look old. The main thought that came to your mind was he had to possibly have been someone in a place of power to afford such a flaunting of wealth.

Hearing the conductor announce the approaching train station in Vesser, both you and the unnamed man looked to the speakers overhead. Catching his bearings, he muffled a sigh to himself as he grabbed his top hat to place upon his brown hair. He sat upright out of the slouched position.

“Time eludes me too often,” he muttered to himself, digging into his coat’s inner pocket to pull out a pocket watch hidden there. “And what of yourself? Visiting, are you?”

It was there you realized he was possibly speaking to you since you were both the only ones in the cart. “Oh, umm. Yeah, just for the month, really. To see if I can find work and all that. I hear that there are quite a few openings for things I am good at.” You laughed nervously. “Don't know whether that’s good or not, all things considered.”

The nameless man fixed his glasses upon the slope of his nose. His brown eyes drifted in your direction as a warm smile spread upon his features. “Ah, been here often then, I’m to assume. Or are you here for more than just job hunting?”

His tone seemed to be hunting for something. You rolled your teeth over your lower lip, shaking your head. “Sometimes I visit. I don't come that often, but just enough to know my way around the shops and all.”

His tone was gentle, soothing as he replied, “That’s wonderful then. Do mind the townsfolk, my dear. It’s a bit of… well, the Hunters are usually out in full force about this time.”

He sounded annoyed by that statement.

You knew of the Hunters. During the height of the full moon, the curse seemed to spread like a wildfire. More and more of the werewolves would spawn from the shadows, causing only those that were well gifted in rounding up these beings or shooting them down to take to the streets.

“I didn't realize it was that time for such a thing.”

When the train came to a halt, the man pushed himself to his feet with the assistance of his cane. “Then it would probably be in your best interest to be escorted by someone.” He motioned for you to follow. “If you wish, I can assist you in such a thing.”

He seemed well put together for someone his age, even for someone who appeared to live here in this cursed city. In just a few short words, you found yourself feeling safe. So you nodded.

“Yeah, I just need to get to the hotel off of Kingsberry Lane. I wish to stay there for a bit till I can get enough money to afford a small apartment of my own.” You weren't sure how much you should divulge to someone you didn't know.

As the door opened with a few grinding gears and a huff of steam, he stepped to the side and motioned outward. “After you, my dear.”

It was there you introduced yourself, figuring it would be better than the pet names.

He grabbed the rim of his hat, moving it slightly with a minor bow. “Professor Arthur Layton, at your service,” he introduced in turn.

Hearing that name, you found yourself nearly choking on your breath. “Professor Layton…As in the Professor Layton of Benithaine?”

“I suppose it’s been many a year now that my name has become infamous where a ‘the’ has ridden before it, but—yes, I do suppose I am that Professor Layton,” he said jokingly.

“Your reputation precedes you, professor,” you said with a bit of flattery. “Even miles from here—where I live—I’ve heard tales of what you do.”

He was the professor studying the reasoning behind the werewolf curse. Some claimed he was an obnoxious pacifist, making the Hunter’s work all the worse if he ever showed up on the scene. He was under the belief that most—if not all—werewolves could be brought back to their senses, hoping to stop the insanity that could cause outrage and hatred towards something he could find a cure for.

Not a cure for preventing the curse, but a cure to the mind being eroded by the change.

In order to even do that, he needed subjects alive.

“Is that so? Well, I will find relief in the idea that those tales are of the flattering type,” he chuckled, escorting you as promised.

“I promise you, professor, they are.” Thinking of all he did, you couldn't help but ask, “Or do you prefer Doctor Layton?”

He shrugged at the question. “Professor is just fine with me.”

The opera house soon came into view, glistening across the pond that was dazzled by the street lights. The hotel you were allowed to stay within was not far from sight. You found relief that nobody attacked you on your way.

The last thing you wanted was for the professor to try and protect you from anything. While he didn't seem feeble, his cane would suggest he had a bad leg from something. He was leaning on that cane quite a bit.

He motioned to the front door. “Here we are. I am certain you can make it from here.”

You smiled with a nod. “I can. Thank you once again, professor.”

He waved away the thought. “It is quite alright. I am happy to be of service.”

There was a moment he seemed to pause, his entire body going rigid before he looked off just down the nearby streets. He motioned at you in urgency.

“Get inside. Quickly,” he whispered.

The distant howls of the wolves made your blood run cold, urging you to swiftly do as he suggested. While you knew they were to be expected, you weren't counting on The Hunt to be out at full force during your visit.

Not that there was any way to know when The Hunt would start. From what you could gather, they always happened during the height of the full moon or sometimes in between such.

Breathing out your relief in being spared any part of it, you made your way to the check in desk to see about (hopefully) relaxing.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The night hours were oddly quiet.

You would count your blessings in that regard, as you didn't want to worry about anything breaking into your hotel while visiting this otherwise lovely city.

The curse was the only thing to worry about. Well, that and maybe a few eccentric people that would believe the way you behaved (if odd) was worthy of studying, as it could be supposed early signs of the curse.

Thankfully those people were very few and far in between.

Job hunting was a chore on its own, and the last thing you wanted was a curse to swell hungrily in your mind.

If you plan on living and working here, you better make do, you thought to yourself.

Making sure you had all addresses and places of interest marked down in your journal properly, you dimmed the oil lamp before packing up what you needed to be on your way.

Even if the clock chimed three in the afternoon, the darkness loomed unwavering. The stars were the only thing to aid the lights of the streets of Vesser. At times you wondered if you were possibly in a cave with the stars merely being that of shimmering crystals overhead.

It was a pleasant thought.

The distant sound of thunder booming startled you out of your thoughts. Noticing the lightning streak across the sky in warning of what was to come, you took a steady breath inward in wonder of where to head.

“I’m a gods damned fool,” you muttered to yourself. “I should have brought my umbrella with me at the very least.” Noticing a decorative overhang, you hurried towards it to take cover the second a few raindrops fell.

Only a few raindrops soon turned into an immediate downpour. Well, that was just great.

This wasn't how you wanted to spend the day trying to hunt for a job. While you had enough money to cover two months at the hotel, every second was precious.

As you tried to wait out the rain, you heard a familiar voice call out to you.

Looking over your shoulder at the door just behind you, it was there you noticed Professor Layton. Your last encounter had been a few days ago, and with the city as big as it was, you weren't expecting to run into him again so soon.

“Oh, umm… Hello there, professor.”

“You are certainly ill prepared for this storm, aren't you?” He shifted the bag in his possession in a way that made it seem like he was eager to hide what it was he had.

You dismissed his actions regardless, as he only just came from a tea shop.

“Afraid so,” you sighed. “I wanted to continue searching for a place to work but, I am afraid I won’t be able to with it raining like this.”

He hummed aloud, curling his finger to his lips in thought. “Well, if you don't mind a bit of a detour, I wouldn't mind having an assistant at my place for a moment.”

Your heart thumped painfully in your chest. “W-With you?”

The professor laughed playfully. “I can tell that unnerves you a bit. Was I too forward?”

“N-Not exactly…” Your words trailed off as you gripped onto your shirt where your heart continued to beat fiercely. “I could only think of the werewolves and all of that, professor.”

“Ah, that issue.” Again, he thought for a moment on how to respond. “No need to be so concerned, my dear. There are none there that are of an unstable mind.” He smiled warmly. “That I can assure you.”

You were quiet, thinking on how to proceed. Arthur’s fingers tapped upon his cane patiently waiting for you to give him an answer.

“And this is just to help you, right?”

“What assistants usually do, yes.” He muffled a laugh. “But not for free, of course. I will be more than willing to pay you for the hours you are with me.”

You did come looking for a job, and this one was lined up perfectly for you. Even if it would be staying near the very thing that this city was negatively known for, perhaps it was better to understand the threat than to be continuously fearful of it.

Breathing out steadily, you nodded. “Alright, professor. I would be delighted to assist you.”

Arthur smiled, motioning down the murky road. “This way then, if you please. Normally my brother would pick me up, what with my bad leg and all, but he’s a bit preoccupied at the moment.”

The professor’s words sounded tense—a bit on the uncertain side. But you dared not question what was racing through his mind.

“What happened to your leg?”

He shrugged his brow. “Mm, it was a very old incident, really. Nothing to worry of now.”

It sounded as though he wished to not speak of it, leaving you to drop the matter as the two of you made it back to his place of work.

It was a building that felt a bit removed from the city all together. It was locked behind a decorative steel fence and gate, out in the more wooded area. It made sense to you, as it would allow the professor to work in peace away from the commotion of the city.

Once inside, you were greeted with the beautiful decor that felt quite far back in time compared to where you lived. Everything had a more antique feel, making you worry if you touched a single thing in the building, it might all come undone.

Venturing further within, it was there you saw a rather impressive library where the books lined several bookcases. It would make sense the professor would have many titles be them for research or otherwise.

“I planned on making tea while awaiting news from my brother. Did you care for some?” Noticing your hesitation on answering, he smiled. “It’s a lavender tea. I find it often helps me relax with the type of work I must do.”

“Oh, umm. That sounds great, actually. Thank you, professor.”

“Very well. Make yourself comfortable in the meantime.”

Not feeling too comfortable venturing about the house on your own, you went to the library to sit down on one of the decorative reading sofas in an attempt to calm your nerves.

There was nothing that truly jumped out at you in terms of it being a hostile place. Even if you knew what went on behind the walls, you oddly felt safe with the professor. If he was alive this long tending to such a curse, then you could find comfort in that.

When he returned sometime later, you thanked him for the tea as you asked, “Who is your brother, professor? I fear that while you are well known about the lands, your brother doesn't seem to be easily known by name.”

To be honest, you didn't even know he had one.

Arthur hummed in thought against the rim of his teacup. “He prefers to remain in the shadows as best he is able. He is not offended by it in the least. His name is Hector, and he at times assists me in my research when he is available to do so.”

“Suppose that’s why you needed an assistant.”

“It was preferable to have one available when needed,” he confessed, a small laughter ringing in his words.

Nervously, you looked down the hall not far from where you both sat. “So where exactly do you keep these werewolves you’re researching?”

“We keep them in selected rooms we have here. If they are of the mentally unwell variety, we have to lock them in something a bit sturdier.” He sighed. “I hate doing such a thing, but it’s to make certain no incidents occur.”

After a moment to relax and gather your thoughts, the professor escorted you a bit more through the building to show you where everything was. The library did appear to be more a room to decompress as well as a few bedrooms that were on the upper floor. Arthur explained he and his brother sometimes slept here, or the two retreated to these rooms to recollect their thoughts.

While the other rooms on the middle floor were empty, he explained that was where those infected with a stable grasp on their situation resided. While the stronger restraints and the like were not far away on the same floor, you could tell by sight alone which ones were for who.

At least it didn't seem like a horrible insane asylum. You weren't certain how you would manage if that were the case.

As the professor ventured down the hallway of the middle floor, he stopped at the last door on the right. Grabbing the keys from his inner coat pocket, he undid the latch. “Let me go in first,” he insisted in a whisper.

The way he said such a thing made you wonder if you made the right choice in offering to work about, what could be, aggressive beings.

“She’s hopefully in a better mood today.” Opening the door ever slowly, Arthur walked into the room. A woman’s voice, heavy—almost exhausted sounding—greeted him.

“I could… smell you a mile away.”

Professor Layton smiled, the tenseness in his body seeming to evaporate at hearing her speak so humanly. “So your senses are still intact, are they?”

“More so than before, sadly.”

He made a hand motion in your direction, showing it was okay for you to follow in if you so wanted.

Glancing inside of the room, it was a charming little space. The only thing that really took you a bit back were the claw marks on the floor and walls. The woman appeared like any normal person you would have seen on the streets. And you meant that. With how ragged her clothing looked with the many tears upon it, she almost looked homeless. You knew transformations could tear up peoples’ clothing, but her shirt was so baggy that it almost appeared to be a night gown at best for her.

The dark rings under her hazel eyes were heavy, the short black hair a stringy mess, as it was no doubt weighed down by sweat.

Pulling up the chair nearby, the professor sat down to get a better read on her vitals.

As you got closer, you noticed—what appeared to be—a watch of some kind upon her right wrist. Cogs could be heard humming within it, and on the top of it laid a flat screen that fed out information to everybody in the room.

“Did it spike at all?” he asked, messing with a few of the buttons embedded within it to have the screen show different graphs that made little sense to you.

“During the evening hours… I think I heard it beeping rather annoyingly,” she confessed. Her eyes turned towards you. “Who is this?”

As you found yourself holding back a breath, Professor Layton answered for you. “An assistant of mine.”

You introduced yourself, managing a smile.

“A pleasure,” she said simply, her forehead resting in her hand shortly after.

Arthur’s brow wrinkled in concern as the graph blipped a bit more on the screen. His heels dug against the floor as he rolled the chair over towards the nearby nightstand to grab a box within it that held a few medical items inside.

“Did you not take the medicine I suggestion? I left it in here for that reason, Cyana.”

She shook her head, her fingers curling aggressively upon her forehead. “No… I didn’t think I would need it…this time.”

Arthur sighed. “That’s not a good enough reason.” He motioned at you. “I’ll need you to watch me do this a few times. As this is going to be one of the main reasons I want you to assist me here.”

Doing as asked, you watched as the professor filled up a container with a type of liquid you couldn't say you recognized. He showed you the exact line to measure it to before handing it over to Cyana.

“Sometimes we use injections of this, but I won’t work on that method with you till you’re more comfortable,” he insisted. His attention returned to the patient. “Drink this. It’ll prevent you from losing your mind once more.”

She stalled at the thought, both hands covering her face as she trembled with a low growling sound rumbling in her throat.

“Cyana.” The way Arthur spoke her name, it sounded like a parent scolding a child.

Eventually she did as she was asked, making you feel the tension slowly leave the room. I should probably make note of what I saw, you thought to yourself. Pulling out your phone, you did just that in a hurry.

“If you don't take this regularly like prescribed, you will end up losing what fight you have.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “I’m just…so tired…”

“It’s an exhausting battle. I understand that,” Arthur sympathized. “But you need to be strong. I know you can be.” Pushing himself back to his feet, he motioned at you. “Come. I’ll need to make food for her while this works its magic.”

Following him out of the room in a quickened pace, you gave the professor a look of confusion. “She’s…one of them?”

He nodded. “Using the medicine I’ve concocted with my brother’s aid, we try to get them back to a human form that they can sustain as they so desire. It can be taken orally or intravenously. It’s worked a good bit of the time, but it’s not something that can continue to be used constantly to fight the curse; especially during the height of any full moon.”

Getting back to the kitchen, he collapsed into a chair with a nasally sigh.

“It’s not a cure all, is what I’m getting at.”

You couldn't help but smile, even if nervously. “Still… it seems what you and your brother are working on here is worth so much. It no doubt means a lot to quite a few people.”

He opened one eye to look at you. “Most of them, yes.” He stifled a laugh behind his lips. “The captain of the police force and the leader of the Hunters would disagree with you.”

Seeing only a small part of what the Laytons did together, you gathered up your courage in one single breath. “I, umm. I would like to continue to try and work hard with you, Professor Layton. Just… to do whatever I can to make certain these innocent people don't suffer.”

“Is that so? Well then, I welcome you aboard.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The brothers were an interesting duo.

As the days turned to months, you found that—while they didn't see eye-to-eye—it felt like their end goals were the same.

More than anything they wanted to find a means to grapple onto this curse to make certain it wouldn't spread any worse than it already had.

Even through what minor slip ups you had with learning underneath Professor Layton, you found the man to be patient. Even if aloof and hard to understand what went on behind closed doors. He didn't share everything, but you found comfort in his presence.

So much so that you often thought about him when you weren't even beside him at his place of work.

You did your best to keep your thoughts from ruining a seemingly good job with someone you cared for. To say it was a challenge was an understatement.

But he was patient, willing to teach you everything you needed to learn and more.

A part of you couldn't help but feel a close connection to him in what felt like no time at all.

During the late afternoon hours after trying to check in on Cyana one night, you overheard the two muttering in the dimly lit kitchen.

“If she is unwilling to do as instructed, we might as well release her. You can’t force someone to take medication even if it could save their life, let alone their mind,” Hector reminded his brother.

“I am… aware.” The way Arthur muttered such a thing gave you but a taste of another of his secrets that he kept hidden away in his heart.

“Not everybody can or even wishes to be saved, Arthur.”

He was silent, unable to respond to his brother. Even if Arthur was the younger brother of the two, he always appeared the older, wiser one.

“You know the full moon will rise tonight,” Hector whispered this time. “You better be cautious. Especially with her nearby.”

Arthur raised his hand, dismissing the thought. “I’ll.. Don't worry about it. I’ll speak with her about it in due time.”

Hector could be heard sighing as he dismissed the conversation. “I will leave you to it. I don't plan on keeping myself held back then.” With such a thing said, he departed from the building, a bag with him in tow.

You assumed he meant in telling you what the two were hiding. Regardless, you stayed away from the discussion—awaiting for the perfect opportunity to walk into the kitchen to speak to Professor Layton privately.

Before you could even open your mouth upon doing so, he greeted you.

“Forgive him,” he muttered, speaking to you as though he knew you were there the whole time. “Working on this curse has worn us both down, I am afraid.”

While you hardly had a chance to get to know Hector as well as you wanted, he did seem a very ‘to himself’ kind of man. Rarely did he wish to be involved with others. It seemed, as opposed to his brother, Hector was more on the scale of not wishing to get attached to anybody.

“I don't think poorly of him. I just think he’s… I don't know. Lonely is probably the word I am looking for.”

The professor seemed to smile briefly at that. “You’d be right in that regard,” he murmured, looking at his teacup. “It might be in your best interest to head home for the day, however.”

“Why?”

He shook his head with another heavy sight that almost sounded as one of restraint. “The full moon will be in the sky tonight. It is… better you take refuge away from here.”

Over the months you had gotten better at being startled by any of those under the curse. You weren't sure why this night would be any different. “Wouldn't I have to deal with this kind of thing eventually? I promise, I’ll be fine.”

Arthur sighed again, his fingers curling rather aggressively against the cup he held. His breathing became heavier as he shook his head. “Very well,” he said. “However… what you see here tonight, I wish for you to never speak of it anywhere beyond these walls…!”

There was tension in the atmosphere, making you take a step back. “I promise.”

It was a hesitant response, but one he seemingly accepted.

His body then jerked a bit, his hand swiftly moving to the table where you heard the wood nearly buckle under immense strength that no human alone could muster. A low, unnerving growl emanated about the room and before you could even think to utter a single word in horror, the sound of bones cracking as they shifted into something different filled the air.

The professor hastily removed his clothing before a single part of it could be shredded. He acted in such a way that it made you realize he no doubt had endured this transformation before, and it wasn't something that just happened recently.

“P-Professor…?” you stuttered, uncertain of what to make of it.

It was there you saw something that you never had before. There was a leg brace that had gears that grinded and expanded to meet the size of his new right leg, which had gained mass and fur beyond that of a normal human.

Knowing what tales you heard of werewolves, you assumed he would be able to stand on it just fine. But you noted he was keeping it off of the ground—his hands and other leg doing their all to support his massive, brown furred body.

“Professor Layton!” Without thinking, you ran to his side. Kneeling before his lycan form, you grabbed hastily for the glasses that had fallen from his face.

“This,” he wearily uttered, “this is…what I don't wish for you to speak of…”

Handing him his glasses, you tried to find whatever humor you could in the situation. “Well, umm. This was unexpected.”

His nostrils flared as he attempted a miserable laugh. “It’s nothing new, so don't be alarmed.” Accepting his glasses, he placed them best they were able to go upon his maw. “I’ve endured this for sometime now.”

Noticing he still needed his glasses, you gave him a curious look. “Guess just because you transformed, it doesn’t mean things improve magically, huh?”

Arthur shook his head, grabbing his cane to assist himself in standing upright once more. Much to your surprise, the metal cane was able to do just that—perhaps it was stronger than it appeared. “Not with the medicine I have crafted with my brother, no. In fact, it is meant to remind the body of what it is to be human. That can mean physical limitations included.” He took a seat back on the chair with a laborious grunt. “If those wishing to be physically cured by blindness, or any physical disabilities that have the curse, then yes. They can withhold the thought of taking our treatment. But in the process, they will turn into a feral beast.”

You looked down at his leg. “That device on your leg seems handy, professor.”

“It was made by someone—the very person who inspired me to wish to try and see to it all could be as lucky as myself and keep their mind in the process of enduring the transformation.”

Even without saying the name, you could tell the memory haunted him.

“Sometimes I wonder if I could consider this lucky.” His haunting eyes looked to you. “I was the only one to not go insane. All those around me fell to madness…”

Your heart tugged mercilessly at his confession.

“At times, I worry I am fighting a losing battle—making people retain their humanity when they might be happier never to have it. Bliss is often coddled by ignorance.”

Without thinking, you embraced him in hopes to calm the racing thoughts that made him doubt himself.

His body tensed, urging you to realize all too swiftly what you were doing. You pulled away. “Oh! Sorry about that!” Your cheeks felt warm from the embarrassment.

Professor Layton stifled a laugh. “It’s quite alright. I just… wouldn't advise such intense contact around this time of the coming full moon.”

You fidgeted. “But it’s not a full moon yet.”

He shook his head. “Mm, not really. But you forget—I am still very much in the body of a beast.”

Those words were enough to make you wonder what to even say to that. “Oh, that. Well…” You chewed at your lower lip, wondering what to say. “I could… help in whatever way you need?”

He raised a single, bushy brow at the comment. “Either you’re very giving or you’ve been hiding something from me for a while now.”

“I guess even werewolves don't have a keen sense of a woman’s emotions, huh? I’ll find relief in that.”

“No, we don’t,” he answered with a gentle laugh. “But, I have a keen sense of other things, my dear. And without hesitation, I can easily say, humans give off a hint of sexual urgency rather easily.”

Hearing him be so forward about that made your ears feel as though they were on fire. “I-Is that so?”

“So I’ll be a bit more candid: are you certain you would find comfort and love in the very being that brings you fear, my dear?” When you struggled on how to answer, he continued, “Fear is something I can easily smell as well. It’s a rotten sense for one such as myself, but I don’t doubt it is compelling for others.”

“What about myself?” you asked. “I… know you’ve been into your work more often than not, and I don't want to distract you from—.”

“You’re not a distraction,” he interrupted. “I swear it. What matters is your emotions towards all of this.”

Your hands rested on the underside of his jaw, urging him closer to where you kissed him upon the slope of his nose. His massive claw moved just under your chin, encouraging your eyes upon his.

They were a beautiful golden, red hue. What would have terrified you before felt more human the more you looked deeply within the gorgeous abyss.

“I am limited in certain ways,” he reminded you in a low, growling tone. “But I will do my best to make up for it in others.” His claw trailed about the clothing you wore. “May I remove this?”

Your mind stalled. Unable to even speak, you nodded. “Of course. I don’t mind…!”

It was a series of perfect motions. Even with the deadly claws, he used them in such a manner that showed he had easily been through this before. Not a single nail nicked your skin or even tore your clothing.

The wolf inched closer, the warmth of his breath beating down on your exposed skin, followed by his tongue caressing your exposed breasts shortly after. It made your body tense, teeth rolling over your lower lip as the giant wolf before you tended to you in such a loving manner that it felt as though he had done all this before.

It was effortless.

He had urged you upon his lap, your thighs resting upon his as the moan rumbled so deeply in his throat, it felt akin to a growl. The vibrations were erotic, your fingers curling into his wild fur to urge him onward as your body rubbed in desperation for more of him.

But you hardly had to wait.

Even as the furs of the beast kissed upon your skin, you felt the intoxicating warmth of his growing erection rubbing against your inner thighs.

Not like you were far from it to begin with.

Still, the size of such a thing startled you—especially upon seeing the knot as well.

He called out to you, catching onto your anxieties as the rushing beat was quite loud for one such as himself. “I won’t do anything you’re not ready for. We could take it as far as this, and I would consider myself content with that.”

You felt okay to do anything. However, that knot was quite intimidating. “I can… I can suck you off at the very least?” Your fingers gripped upon the base of his cock just above the knot. “I don't think I could manage all of this right now, if you know what I mean.”

His ears steadily shifted forward, catching the slight unease in your tone. “Mm, it is perfectly fine.” Arthur struggled to stay those words, making him keep himself in check with the intense fire burning within his new form. “Do whatever you are comfortable with doing.”

Sliding from his lap, you took to your knees where the heat of your breath enticed his erection all the more. The organ tensed in your grasp the moment your tongue traced the head of it. It was a simple series of licks, which eventually escalated into you taking a bit into your mouth.

You suckled noisily, moving up and down at a steady pace while your hand did the rest.

The professor moaned vocally, the leg he was able to move without issue finding its way between your own legs. With caution, he moved one of his toes against your exposed clit—nearly making you choke on his cock.

“Careful.” The word was said rather teasingly. “I don't need you gagging all over me, my dear.”

Breaking the string of saliva that connected you both, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. “You’re far more sly than I give you credit for, professor.”

He rested his furry cheek against his knuckles in taunting thought. “Mm, is that so? You have a lot to learn about me then. It is quite easy to catch you off your guard is what I’m learning about you.”

The enormous claw rose once more, rubbing your swollen clit to where your grip upon his manhood tightened.

Fuck me, you mentally moaned, almost going slack from the euphoria that crippled you. Possibly smelling how much you were enjoying yourself, the professor didn't let up. “F-Fine…! Fine!” you grumbled playfully, a bit of saliva trickling down the corner of your lips as you spoke. Removing yourself from your knees, you grabbed the base of his cock and urged the head of it to kiss the lips to your entrance. “If you’re going to play that kind of game…!”

Arthur raised a single brow at your desire to move that swiftly. “Are you sure?”

“I’ll… I’ll do what I can,” you stammered, a bit high from the euphoria that had you.

Pushing steadily down, you were nearly caught off guard by how much of a reaction the professor had.

His teeth bared, eyes shut tightly as his tail wagged with such intensity, you were hardly expecting it. Even the growl sounded almost predatory in nature.

But in truth, it had been so long since he had been with anybody.

Any human.

It made a part of him yearn so much for more that it was taking every ounce of himself to remain in control—to not let the beast take over.

“A-Are you okay…?!”

“Just fine,” Professor Layton responded, hissing out a low breath through his clenched fangs. His hands found their resting place on your hips, trying to escort you ever slowly upon his impressive size.

You arched your back, resting your hands on his thighs as you tried to see what you could even manage.

The veiny length caressed your throbbing walls, making the sounds of your connection fill the room. The lewd squelching noise echoed violently in the air the more you both continued, urging you into a state of obliviousness. You hadn't even realized how much of him you were able to even hold within your body.

You admittedly were too drunk on the act to even care to notice.

“I’m… I’m going insane…!” you panted, feeling as the knot in your stomach was swelling to its breaking point.

The professor’s claw was gentle as he stroked against your warm cheek to remind you without words you were more in control than himself.

“Then come for me,” he insisted in a low, intoxicated moan.

Hearing such a sweet and alluring command, you moved down on his throbbing manhood to where you knew you could take no more. Without even a word being uttered, you felt your walls quiver—soaking him without restraint.

Once again he grunted, hissing in unbridled delight at the wet warmth as it trickled down every inch of him, pooling upon the knot. Urging you back a bit, the professor gave you a lopsided smirk. “Ready for me?”

You nodded the best you were able.

The warmth of his release filled you to the point it pooled at your union before slipping down his impressive size to mar the fur upon Arthur’s thighs.

It was like a drug filling your veins with such intoxication you could hardly think of a moment you could be without it. Losing your ability to sit upright, you collapsed upon his chest, urging Professor Layton to embrace you in a comforting and loving manner.

“Are you alright?” he asked, the warmth of those words teasing your ear as he spoke them.

A simple question was enticing, and he wasn't even trying to be sexual.

“I’m… great,” you whispered, trying to return from your erotic high. “Next time I’ll be able to handle the knot… Maybe…”

He stifled a laugh, his massive chest rumbling against yours as he did so. “I am in no rush. All that matters is that I can trust you, just as I hope you know you can trust me.”

END

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