#limbs wildly flailing
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Slenderman but instead of standing still and staring at you he just SPRINTS at you full speed
#limbs wildly flailing#slenderman#slenderverse#creepypasta#everymanhybrid#marble hornets#tribetwelve#mlandersen0#darkharvest00#whisperedfaith
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As You Sleep [Choso x Reader]
Pairing: Choso x AFAB!Reader
Summary: The creature under your bed has been watching you for a long time...waiting...you may not remember him, but he remembers you.
Warnings: Reader has AFAB anatomy referred to with fem terms, but no other gendered terms are used. Graphic smut (MDNI). Referenced past voyeurism. Dub-con at first, becomes fully consensual quickly. Tentacles (can't believe myself). Vaginal penetration.
Word Count: ~2,300
Notes: posting a little later than I would've liked, but still on-time. Part of my little event, Strange Lovers, which is a collection of monster!character x reader oneshots for October! This, like the giyuu one, is surprisingly sweet for how nasty the concept is lol. I feel like this could've been better, but I had fun writing it so eh whatever.
[Ao3 Link]
The room is silent.
You’re not quite sure why you woke up so abruptly. It’s still dark outside, and you’re not awake enough to check your phone for the time. You should just close your eyes and fall back asleep. But you can’t shake the feeling that something woke you up.
And then you feel it. Something is lightly caressing your bare ankle.
You jerk your foot away, suddenly very awake. Your first thought is that it must be some kind of insect, and the thought makes your skin crawl. You stare intently at the place your foot used to be, but of course you can’t see anything in the dark.
You reach over and grab your phone, fumbling to switch on the flashlight. Turning it onto the rumpled bedsheets at the foot of your bed reveals nothing. You pick up the edge of the blanket and jerk it to the side, expecting something to skitter out. Nothing.
You almost decide to turn your phone light off and lay back down, brushing the feeling off as your half-asleep imagination. But then you see it.
It is some sort of…shadowy tentacle. It’s ridiculously fast too, as it’s wrapped around your ankle before you can shuffle yourself back again. It’s soft and cool to the touch, but deceptively strong. You try to flail and break its grip, but all you manage to do is drop your phone flashlight-side down on the ground.
The room is once more in darkness. Your heart is pounding. You don’t know what the fuck is going on, but you hope it’s just a bad dream. It must be, right?
Whatever it is, it has multiple tentacles. Because soon your other leg, still kicking wildly to try to free its twin, is restrained by another tendril.
You curl forward and try to use your hands to claw the thing off you. You barely graze the velvet surface of the tendril before more appear to grab both your arms.
At this point, your limbs are all pinned to your mattress, starfished out in the shape of an x. You can’t move them at all. You’re trapped.
There is no longer any trace of sleepiness left in you, washed out in record time by the tsunami wave of adrenaline sent through your body. The worst thing is the adrenaline has nowhere to go; you can’t move no matter how much you struggle, so your limbs tingle restlessly. Your eyes flicker around the room, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever is doing this to you, a futile task.
The room, for a moment, is filled only with the sounds of your panting. And then you see it.
‘It’ being two bright, purple points of light, glowing in the perfect darkness. The points are looming over the base of your bed, trained on you…almost like eyes.
You’re frozen as those points of light creep closer. You can feel more tendrils caress your legs as the thing crawls up on top of you, pressing you down even further into the mattress with its solid weight. The lights are now hovering right above your face now. They slowly flicker out of existence for a second, before reappearing. The lights must be eyes; the thing above you is blinking.
You feel like it’s examining you; slow-blinking gaze trained on your face as you feel the tentacles slither across every inch of your body. Some have already crept up to tangle in your hair; even more concerning are the ones teasingly rubbing at the skin under the very edges of your clothing, as if waiting to slip under it.
You try once more to move. It’s impossible. You are at the mercy of this creature.
The only thing you can feasibly do is scream; yet you cannot muster the volume. All that comes out is a garbled whine, almost animalistic from the pure anxiety imbued in it.
The thing above you makes some sort of rumbling sound in response. The noise is low, and hard to decipher, but it gets clearer the closer you listen to it.
It’s trying to talk to you.
There are only a few scattered words, the rest just pure sound. It seems to be trying to sooth you.
“…safe…..don’t be scared…..won’t hurt you…..just wanna touch…” the thing intones. It brings what you assume is its forehead (it’s above its eyes at least) down to nuzzle against yours. It feels like someone’s skin, if you ignore how perfectly smooth and cool it is, similar to the tentacles writhing over your body.
“What are you?” you say. You mean to shout it, to question it aggressively…but your voice comes out small and hoarse.
The thing pulls back to blink at you again. “Choso,” it rasps.
“Choso?” you whisper back. The name sounds familiar to you somehow, but you can’t recall what from.
“…don’t remember?” it asks, its strange, inhuman voice tilting up at the end in a question.
Then it hits you.
The memories of it are scattered and hazy; you were so young when it happened. But you used to have an imaginary friend named Choso. You thought he lived under your bed, and you would talk to him in whispers at night. One time he even talked back. He even told you his name.
Of course, as soon as you told anyone you knew about Choso, you were immediately ridiculed. Eventually, you stopped speaking to him, and left him behind with all the other fanciful imaginations of your childhood.
He never spoke to you again.
Until now.
You didn’t recognize him at all until he said his name. Your memories were patchy, but you thought his voice was higher, more childish when you first met. Perhaps he was a child then too, or whatever the monster-under-the-bed equivalent of child was.
You did not even notice when you relaxed, but you did. Your heartbeat went down, and you were no longer tensing against your restraints. It was absurd that you calmed down. Just because this thing claimed to be your childhood imaginary friend. Ridiculous. Imaginary friends weren’t real.
But neither were creatures like the one lying atop you; yet he undeniably existed.
The thing—Choso—shudders above you. “Forgot,” it—he—says mournfully. “…forgot me…”
You feel a pang of sadness. You did forget about him, but to your credit, it’s not like he ever gave any other sign he was real until now. It was understandable you forgot. But you still felt bad.
“I remember,” you stutter out. “I remember you Choso. It’s okay. Were you with me this whole time?”
“…yes…” he says. He doesn’t sound as upset now, but it’s hard to tell with his voice. “Was waiting. Couldn’t.”
“You were waiting for me to remember?”
“Thought you didn’t wanna talk…didn’t wanna talk to me,” he warbles. A creature like him shouldn’t be able to sound as dejected as he does.
“Aw, no…” you are slightly panicking now. This is not at all how you thought your night would go; it has been plot twist after plot twist. Your sleep-deprived mind wonders if this is what telenovela characters feel like. “It’s okay, Choso. I remembered you. I just wasn’t sure you were real. Thought I imagined you.”
“Okay…” he says. You think he is slightly mollified. “Don’t forget again.”
This is not something you will ever forget. You tell him as such.
“Good,” he huffs. He seems to settle on you fully now, flopping heavily like a disgruntled cat. He tucks his face into your neck, and you can feel his chilly breath tickling your ear.
He’s very clingy, you realize. Now that your fear has mostly dissipated, you can focus back on what is happening to your body, on what he is doing to you. The tendrils haven’t released you or stopped moving; in fact, they have only become bolder. Some have fully slipped their way under your clothes now, the tips of them stroking against your sensitive skin. You become hyper aware of them.
“Choso,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady even as one of the tentacles flicks at one of your nipples. “What are you doing?”
“Touching you.”
“I noticed that—AH” your voice goes up an entire octave as you feel a thick tendril poke at the entrance to your pussy. You hadn’t even noticed it creep under all your layers, but now all you could think about was the way it rubbed curiously between your folds. “CHOSO.”
“…wanted to touch you so bad….all the time,” he replies. You find out he has a tongue because he starts gently lapping at your neck.
“Okay, but you can’t touch there,” you say, voice wavering. You are almost reluctant to stop him, because, shamefully, you feel yourself starting to get wet from his clumsy touches. It’s been too long…and it’s hard not to slip into the full-body sensation that the tendrils are granting you; they stroke over every part of you, caressing every sensitive spot of skin you didn’t know you had.
“…you do,” he says stubbornly. “Watched you. You felt good….when you touched here. Could smell it…” He buries his face further into your neck, breathing your scent in big, wet huffs, making you shiver at his breath on your skin. “…wanna make you feel good….”
Your face is hot. The thought of Choso watching you masturbate in your bed should have been mortifying, violating, but it only made you get wetter. It was undeniably wrong, but you couldn’t help but imagine him hidden, watching you lazily rub your clit, curl your fingers inside yourself until you gushed. You wondered if things like him even felt arousal…you wondered if he felt it when he looked at you. If he felt the same heat you felt between your legs now. If he wanted to be the one making you feel good, instead of your own hand.
You find you actually don’t want him to stop. “Okay,” you murmur. “You can touch more.”
He doesn’t respond verbally, but you can feel the tentacles pull you tighter to him, almost in a facsimile of a hug.
And then he sets to work.
There are tendrils tugging at your nipples, pulling them to stiff peaks. Others caress all over your body, focusing on the areas that make you shudder. Choso continues to kitten-lick your neck and around your collarbones, but every once in a while you can feel the graze of razor-sharp teeth.
More tendrils make their way past your underwear. The thickest of them continues to prod at the entrance to your cunt, which is slowly getting wetter as your arousal grows. You jolt as a smaller tentacle slithers up to your clit, rubbing at it curiously. The touches get firmer once he hears your broken gasps, until he’s drawing small rapid circles on your bundle of nerves.
You can feel the heat building up in your abdomen, a slow, liquid build. Unlike your own hand, he doesn’t change pace or falter as you get close to coming, keeping a steady pace until the heat slowly overflows into an orgasm.
You shudder and whine your way through climax, whispering nonsensical praises to the creature draped over your body.
Just as you edge your way into oversensitivity, you feel him penetrate you.
You don’t get any time to adjust before the tentacle is filling your pussy.
It’s a strange feeling, not like a cock at all. The tendril pulses oddly, not thrusting so much as squirming against your walls. It wiggles around inside of you, making strange wet sounds with how aroused you are. Your overstimulation is turning back into pleasure as the tentacle finally finds your g-spot and starts rubbing against it, copying the other’s rhythm on your clit.
You can feel another orgasm creeping up on you, faster than your previous one. Choso continues to abuse every sensitive spot on the outside and the inside of your body. You’re so, so close…and then you feel another tentacle at the entrance to your cunt.
All it takes is the stretch of another, smaller tendril pressing deep inside you for you to come.
It’s much stronger than your first orgasm, pleasure burning through your body as opposed to the gentle waves of the first. You swear you can feel yourself squirt as you clench down around the dual appendages in your pussy.
Even if Choso wasn’t still holding you down, you know you wouldn’t be able to move. You almost dissolve into the mattress after the last shudders of your orgasm wash over you, feeling sleepy and sated.
Choso seems to agree with you, his strangely liquid body melts over yours. The tendril abusing your clit slips away, as do the ones around your nipples, but the ones in your pussy stay, twined around each other to make a single thicker tentacle. They’re still now, but they still stretch you out almost to the edge of discomfort, but not quite. You find you don’t mind them remaining inside you.
He continues to take in deep, heavy breaths, almost like he’s trying to huff in your scent. You think he must be smelling your pleasure, like he did when he watched you masturbate.
“…good?” he asks. It sounds less like an actual question and more like he’s prodding you for praise. You’re sure that he can already tell how good he made you feel, can taste it in the air. You let out a huff of laughter.
“Yes, you were very good, baby,” you tell him, voice raspy.
He shivers in happiness at the pet name, nuzzling his face deeper into your neck.
He doesn’t move from where he is covering you, but you feel yourself start to drift off to sleep anyway.
He continues to vibrate lightly, like a purring cat; the sensation helps lull you to sleep.
You hope this wasn’t all a dream; you would like to see him again when you wake.
#choso x reader#choso kamo x reader#choso smut#jjk choso x reader#jjk smut#choso#jjk choso#choso kamo#jjk x reader#romy can write#strange lovers event#cw // monsterfucking#afab reader
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Shrike: The Deal with Niffty
[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable. Prompted by @clearly-awkward and after some theory crafting with my wife, here we are!]
[One shot, word count 1558, Cw: consensual bondage]
———————
The late 1950’s. Rock and roll was starting to dominate the airwaves, even in Hell. Jazz, swing, and even the blues were being requested less at the clubs you performed at. So you started listening to this newest style to see if it fit your voice, but there weren’t many songs that grabbed you yet.
You were a performer, not a composer. You didn’t have the gift for lyrics. Rather, you had an ear for what appealed and were able to infuse your passion into what you sang. You could tell what people liked about rock and roll, but so far you hadn’t found the song to draw you into the genre.
Music was the topic of discussion for you and Alastor on your way back from lunch with Vox. It wasn’t a business lunch; Alastor hated the concept of discussing intense business over a meal. And Vox was always intense. Your husband still didn’t care for television but it was hard not to respect Vox’s ability.
As you walked leisurely through the streets of Pentagram City, you started hearing a scuttling noise behind you. With the myriad of demons around it wasn’t an unusual sound. But the sound kept following you. You could tell Alastor heard it too by his ears twitching. The rapid patter was joined by giggles and snippets of a voice saying “bad boy.”
After a few blocks you had enough. You let go of Alastor’s arm to turn down a cross street. He gave you a quizzical look but continued walking as you pressed a talon to your lips and made a shooing motion. Not far behind him ran a tiny demon. You heard her say “baaaaad booooooyyy” as she scurried along. Annoyed, you picked her up by the back of her dress.
You weren’t particularly tall but even you dwarfed this demon. She squealed as you lifted her into the air, all her limbs flailing so fast you could barely see them. “Noooooo! The bad boy’s getting awaaaaayyyy!” She spun slowly at the end of your arm; after a few seconds you could see the giant red-orange eye dominating her face, tears gathering at both sides. Her pupil spun wildly as she tried to keep looking at Alastor while facing you.
“If by ‘bad boy’ you mean the tall red demon, ma petite, that’s my husband. So find your own.” You dropped her back to the ground as she sniffled. You caught up to Alastor as the little cyclops started bawling in the street.
“Goodness cher, whatever did you say to the little thing?”
“I simply informed her that you’re my ‘bad boy,’ darling.”
You thought that would be the end of it, but the little demon kept popping up to stalk Alastor whenever he went out. You sent her packing when you could catch her, but after that first time she proved to be rather slippery. You ended up having to create little whirlwinds to sweep her away; the downside was she seemed to like that.
Alastor for his part, merely let things play out between you two. He seemed amused by both the little Sinner’s obsession and your jealousy. “I’m surprised you haven’t done away with her yet, cher,” he mentioned while the two of you lingered over breakfast one day.
“Mmm, as annoying as it is, she’s not exactly a threat.” You took a sip of coffee. “Although if she keeps it up I might end up killing her regardless.”
Alastor hummed quietly as he speared another piece of raw venison. “Perhaps we should do something about the situation then. I’d hate for you to bloody your talons over so minor a thing as annoyance.”
That day, you let the cyclops follow Alastor for longer than usual. Which meant she got much closer than before. Close enough that you could snap her up in a miniature whirlwind and grab her much like the first time. Once you had a grip on her poodle skirt, Alastor surrounded you all with his shadows.
She didn’t seem scared at all by the sudden darkness. Instead you heard giggles as your husband moved the three of you to the bayou in your home. The spot he picked was screened by trees, concealing the fact that it was connected to your front room.
Once the shadows released you all, the demon in your hand started running in air, trying to get to Alastor. “Well my dear, you certainly are stubborn.” He grabbed her shirt back to hold her at his eye level. “Now then, what might your name be, ma petite?”
“I’m Niffty! It’s nice to meet you!”
“Alright Niffty, why do you keep following my husband around? You keep coming back no matter what I do,” you said sharply.
She giggled more. “I like bad boys and he’s the baddest boy I’ve ever seen.” She flailed her arms and started grasping her hands in his direction.
Alastor quirked an eyebrow at her. “Despite my darling wife’s disapproval? And all the times she’s forced you away?”
“I like being forced!” came her prompt reply. “And for a lady, she’s fuuuun,” Niffty continued. You and Alastor exchanged a glance of confusion. This discussion was taking an unexpected turn.
“And what did you plan on doing once you got to the ‘bad boy?’” you asked, curiosity overcoming annoyance.
Her one dark pupil bounced between the two of you. “Make a deal,” she stated immediately, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I can’t let the baddest boy get away.”
Neither of you had anyone approach you for a deal before. You offered something they thought they needed desperately, and received compensation in return. Sometimes it was a soul, sometimes it was an item or service. The deals that didn’t immediately involve a soul were to lay the groundwork for ensnaring the other party later. Sell one thing to a dealmaker and you’re more willing to sell again later.
But a demon just walking up to anyone, much less the Radio Demon, to make a deal out of the blue…this Niffty just kept surprising you. “What kind of deal? What do you want from it?”
She shrugged. “Whatever he wants. The deal is the important part, you guys can decide what it’s for. I just wanna belong to the baddest boy.” She grinned wildly, her attention mostly on Alastor.
His smile stretched in return. “Well this sounds entertaining. What do you think, cher?”
You motioned for him to put Niffty at your eye level. Once he obliged you looked at her sternly. “You’re not a homewrecker, are you?”
She just giggled again. “Nope! Working for you both sounds much more fun.” You leaned back and held you hands out. “She wants a deal with you, Alastor darling. I’ll leave things to you.”
“Thank you Y/N.” He set Niffty onto the mossy ground and twirled his cane in thought. “Hmmm, well Niffty dear, I have a proposition for you. I’ll give you my protection and you give me your soul, to be at my beck and call. Do we have a deal?” He leaned down, right hand extended and radiating a green glow.
Her eye shined as Alastor laid out his terms. She grabbed his hand with both of hers as she replied “Yes! It’s a deal, Alastor!” The green glow became a collar and chain that latched onto her neck. Unlike every other deal you’d seen, once the collar was on she twirled gleefully repeating “thank you thank you thank youuuu!”
At least until it faded, becoming insubstantial until Alastor needed it. “Hey, where’d it go?” She started to sniffle, making Alastor blink in surprise.
“It’s still there my dear, but you can’t really do much for us if it’s always manifested,” your husband said, sounding oddly gentle to the little cyclops. That just made her tear up however. Alastor floundered, completely out of his depth now.
You clapped your hands together once, inspiration striking. “Cher, can I have your handkerchief?” Confused, he handed you the black square of cloth. Like all his handkerchiefs, you had embroidered his name in gold thread in one corner. “Niffty, ma petite, come here and we’ll try this.” She perked up and skittered next to where you kneeled down.
You showed her the embroidery, explaining that you’d sewn it. You folded it diagonally so the name wasn’t immediately obvious. Then you wrapped it around her neck, tying the points together just snug enough that she couldn’t slip it over her head. You grasped the knot and put just a bit of wind magick into it. “There we go. Now try to undo the knot.”
Niffty reached for it with both hands; they were immediately blown back by a gust. Her eye widened as she tried again and her hands were repelled just as fast. “Eeeehuhuhuheeeeee!” she giggled, trying again. “It’s perfect. Thank you Y/N!”
“Wonderful! Now let’s get some refreshments and go over your new duties Niffty.” Alastor helped you to your feet and led the way into the ‘house’ section of your house.
With that your husband gained a very loyal housekeeper for you both. He did have to forbid her from trying to clean the bayou, as she’d gladly spend days trying. She was allowed to hunt bugs there to her heart’s content.
@whitewolfsoldat @edgyboi10000 @ch3sire-blu3 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @bengewatch @chewbrry
#hazbin niffty#hazbin fanfic#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#asexual alastor#alastor#alastor x reader#asexual reader#asexual#acespec#ace representation#niffty
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Late Night Zoomies
Summary: You get the zoomies while Severus is grading.
Word Count: 500
Tags: Fluff, Drabble, Animagus!Reader
Read on ao3
The quill in Severus’s hand had been scratching away at potion papers now for the past couple of hours, a recent delay in his schedule costing him what could’ve been a relaxing evening. His gaze was fixed on a line when he heard the sounds of something scraping stone and a blur of orange run by his peripheral. The writing tool ceased, his eyes flicking up to the couch where he swore he saw the shape disappear behind. No sounds, no movement. He returned his attention down to the paper.
The shape entered his sights once again, retreating back to the bedroom. He turned his gaze up again, this time looking at the clock on the wall. Ah. 1AM. He cast a quick protective spell on his legs before turning his eyes towards the bedroom.
You came sprinting out of his room again in your animagus form, an orange cat. This time you had opted to use the coffee table as a platform to leap onto the couch, your claws gripping into the upholstery as if prey as your gaze darted around the ceiling like you were seeing ghosts. He should’ve known the second he heard the scratching of your claws against the stone. You were having what you had told him were called “zoomies.” They usually struck around or past midnight. Even in sleep you’d awake restless and go to the living room to shift into your animagus form to burn off energy before returning to the potion master’s side in bed. One too many drive-by swipes at his legs were enough to make the professor cast a spell on himself when they occurred.
“Are you having fun tearing up my couch?” he drawled teasingly.
You snapped your blown out eyes to him, raising from your pounced position so that you were crab-walking along the top of the couch, your back arched like a croissant, ears splayed back and tail poofed up and flailing around wildly as you angled your head downwards while your pupils made direct eye contact with him; like he was a mere mortal who dared to challenge you.
While you were very smart as a human, he suspected you lacked a few brain cells when in such a form. Out of nowhere, as if someone snuck up behind you and scared you, you jumped a foot or so in the air, limbs flailing about as you fell down the front of the couch onto cushions, the stimulation riling you up more and prompting you to attack the corner of the rug and batter it with your hind legs.
After a good five minutes of chewing on it, you suddenly stopped and shifted back into your human form, cheeks blushed with embarrassment as you got up from the floor and made your way back to the bedroom.
“Shut up,” you huffed, having caught the amused expression on his face. The potion master simply chuckled to himself under his breath and returned to the papers at hand.
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This is my first time posting work on Tumblr. Check out my other works on ao3 here.
#severus snape x reader#snape x reader#severus x y/n#animagus!reader#severus snape#snape fandom#Severus Snape fanfiction
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ice skate moments
₊˚.༄ || soft valentines m.list || hongjoong || seonghwa || yunho || yeosang || san || mingi || wooyoung || jongho || ₊˚.༄
just had a moment of realization that seonghwa would take you ice skating. like he had this sudden thought of it after watching penguins glide on their stomach on one of those random documentaries in youtube.
"hwa darling?" you called, standing on your already tied skating shoes as you watch seonghwa waddled his way towards the rink wit h excitement in his eyes but soon it faded when his skates met the ice. a laugh erupted on your chest as your eyes monitor his flailing arms as he tried to balance himself but failed as he fell on his butt rather too harshly.
you felt a little bad for laughing so you waddled yourself towards your boyfriend who was poutingand rubbing his butt. seonghwa saw you stepping inside the ice rink which sent him panicking as he doesn't want to have you falling painfully like him.
"wait wait babe you might--" but he was cut off when you easily glide on the ice with your hands behind your back. seonghwa's jaw slacked on the floor as he watch you enjoy yourself on the middle of the ice rink even surprising him as you pulled an axel stunt.
you completely forgot your boyfriend, the moment when you set foot on the rink. it had been years since you had skate after a tragedy of one of the biggest competitions. this was your home, and it still is but with fear, you never visit again.
you shake your head, bringing yourself back to reality as you turn around to approach your struggling boyfriend. you smile as you halt and hoist him up, "hey there sore butt ..." you tease.
seonghwa rolled his eyes, "yeah yeah ice princess, you're good ... why didn't you tell me?" you let him put his weight on to you for a while as you take the both you on the center. you shrug, letting him stand in front of you, "you never ask ... "
his hand ruffles your hair which he retreated as he felt himself slipping but you were there to steady him. "okay, here's a small tip from your ice princess .." he pout while you giggle, demonstrating your feet to look like a 'V' shape, "so you won't fall ... here i'll let go." with a few cries of 'don't let go' or 'no no i'll have my butt sore again.'
you clap in adoration as seonghwa succeed to steady himself which he made him clap too in achieving his task. for a while, you thought him how to skate; asking you to do the halt you did when you arrive to save him.
you scoff, "i'm not bragging but hwa that's on the professional level." he shakes his head, gently smacking his chest, "i'm also a professional .." which you pointed out, "in dancing ..."
seonghwa huff in defeat, pouting at you, "skating is still dancing isn't? i saw a performance once and it was amazing." well he was not wrong but that small stunt can be dangerous for him since one) he has a concert in few days so he needs to be in a good shape two) he might hurt himself.
"well .. here." you show it to him a few times before he finally gets it and decided to do it. you stand watching him prepare himself, arm supporting the other whilst biting your thumb in nervousness, "hwa you sure you want to do this?"
he gave you a thumbs up, "yep! watch me!" you saw him bend his knee slightly, giving himself a boost as he pushes himself; skating. then what you were dreading happened, he did the stunt but with the ice not being completely even, his skate got caught on it.
he stumbles, flailing his arms wildly, bracing for impact. suddenly, a blur of motion, you rocket across the ice, propelled by years of honed skill. you throw yourself under him, cushioning his fall with your own body. Both of you land in a tangle of limbs, you groan playfully as you take the aftermath of the impact.
Seonghwa stared at you; mortification coloring his cheeks, his face etched with concern, " oh my gosh! are you okay?! i'm so sorry i- should have not done that .. you're right i'm not professional on this."
"hwa~ darling ..." before he can finish apologizing or more liker ranting to you about not listening, you burst out laughing; so infectious and carefree, and relief washes over him. seonghwa can't help but join in, the tension dissipating with each chuckle.
your laughts subside, leaving a comfortable silence punctuated by the soft noises of the radio. seonghwa looks down at you, "this should be a good date ... but i ruined it."
you scoff, "ruined? this is the best date. i should be thanking you. for bringin me back here." you watch his eyes sparkle, smile curling back to his lips, "really?" you nodded, "really. if it weren't for you, i don't know when i'll be able to step here again." seonghwa leans down; both faces inches apart, he brushes a stray strand of hair from your face, his thumb lingering on your cheek.
you wanted to initiate the kiss but seonghwa already beat you to it as his lips meet yours. it was tender, filled with gratitude and a touch of unspoken affection. the ice rink melts away, replaced by the warmth of your embrace.
When you both pull apart, your foreheads rest against each other, you smile at seonghwa, "i love you ..."
he hums, taking your chin on his fingers pulling you once again in a quick kiss before pulling away, "i love you too, ice princess."
the one that seonghwa mention about seeing a performance. it was you; he saw how beautiful you were, he saw you pulled those stunts so easily; he aslo saw the tragedy. leaving you with a scar of fear and pain. he promises one day, when things are okay, he'll take you back to your home.
and he did. successfully, even making him look like a fool; just to see you returning to your home.
taglist: @vantediary
#ateez park seonghwa#park seonghwa#seonghwa#ateez fanfic#ateez#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez fluff#ateez x reader#park seonghwa imagines#ateez seonghwa#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa ateez#park seonghwa fluff#atiny#seonghwa fluff
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7x05 spec
NSFW
“Are you okay?”
The question catches him off guard. Tommy’s sat on one of his bar stools when Buck reaches the bottom of the stairs in his loft, looking at him with gentle eyes.
“Sorry?”
“It’s just you seem a bit- off. Shaken,” Tommy says after a second, pulling himself up from the stool to rest against the table, still consciously giving Buck space. It doesn’t feel right - Buck doesn’t want the space - so he steps a little closer to Tommy and it feels like a tether between them. “Something happen on shift?”
Buck pauses for a second. Nothing really happened. No one was hurt, it was nothing more than Buck is used to on calls, but- for some reason he can’t quite process, he can’t get it out of his head-
The patient’s hand flailing wildly, panicked shouts from behind them.
Pulling the guy’s tense hand away from him, trying to hold it firm so they can get some sort of reading.
The guy’s hand, instead, moving towards Buck’s own throat before he can even begin to process the movement-
Buck huffs out a laugh, moving past Tommy towards the fridge- his mouth is suddenly really dry.
“Oh- nah, not really,” he replies. “Weird ass call, though. Some life coach doing a talk about being your own boss, or something, ends up stood on the stage, completely out of control, slapping himself.”
Tommy’s eyebrows quirk up. It’s not cute.
“Hen said something about connection between brain and limb movement. We had to strap him down to the gurney just to get him out of there.”
Tommy lets out a little laugh, looking down for a second before he rounds the table, coming closer to where Buck’s completely forgotten what he came to the fridge for. “How do you always manage to get the weirdest calls?”
“I swear it’s some sort of jinx, I don’t know,” Buck replies, grinning.
“But nobody was hurt or anything?” Tommy asks.
“No, all good. Just took us a while to get out of there,” Buck replies. Tommy’s still looking at him though, an endearing furrow to his brow in a way that’s confusingly similar to Eddie.
“So what’s got you acting all skittish, then?”
Buck feels it when he starts to blush. God, he really is a fourteen year old girl, where did his game go?
“Nothing! Really, just,” he trails off for a second. Tommy’s closer now and Buck’s sort of forgotten how to speak. “The guy- Eddie and I went over to try and help him, but he starts choking himself. And I’m just pulling at his hand, trying to keep him still and he starts choking- me.”
To his credit, Tommy doesn’t actually react at first. The furrow of his eyebrows smooths over and Buck could swear his eyes darken a fraction but he doesn’t move. His eyes flicker down to Buck’s neck for a moment, and Buck feels like he should be fanning himself.
“You okay?” Tommy asks after a second, meeting Buck’s eyes again. “He didn’t hurt you?”
Buck has to clear his throat before he speaks. God. “N-no. All good, he, uh- he was only there for a second.”
“Good,” Tommy replies.
“It just,” Buck stutters out, feeling like he’s supposed to clarify further. “Stuck. In my mind.”
There’s a flash of something in Tommy’s eyes.
“Yeah?” He takes a step closer and they’re basically touching now. “Back up a sec.”
Buck shuffles his feet back and suddenly his back is meeting the cold metal of the fridge, one of his magnets digging into the small of his back. Tommy’s so close Buck can smell the cedarwood aftershave he uses and it’s driving him a little bit insane, actually.
“Just wanna try something,” Tommy whispers then and Buck can practically feel his lips move from how close they are to Buck’s.
He’s definitely not breathing.
Distantly, he’s aware of fingers on his arm. Soft, gentle. Then they move up to his elbow. His shoulder.
Tommy’s eyes don’t leave Buck’s as his hand comes to rest, palm almost flat, on the side of his throat.
“Just-“ Tommy whispers, all gravelly and deep. His hand doesn’t move, but his thumb presses just so on the underside of Buck’s chin, pushing it up slightly.
They never break eye contact.
“There,” he says, when Buck’s tilted his head back enough that his throat is exposed.
Tommy pauses then, thumb still on Buck’s chin, his palm a welcome weight against Buck’s neck. Neither of them say anything, but there’s a question in Tommy’s eyes.
“Yeah,” Buck whispers, breathless, and-
Buck’s brain short circuits.
Because after Buck speaks, Tommy’s thumb trails from Buck’s chin, slowly, to the other side of his throat. His palm moves so that it’s covering Buck’s neck, left to right, adam’s apple fitting squarely in the space between Tommy’s thumb and first finger.
Buck’s pinned, the entire front of his neck covered in the warm, calloused skin of Tommy’s hand.
There’s little force to it. Tommy’s not restricting anything, it’s just weight, pressure. He’s just keeping Buck there.
He knows if he tried to move away the pressure would be gone instantly, no questions asked.
But Buck doesn’t want that.
Buck lets out a stuttered breath, a little sound coming out with it and the way Tommy’s lips quirk into a tiny little grin is somehow the hottest thing Buck’s ever seen. He’s obsessed.
“Knew it,” Tommy mutters next. “Dark horse, you are, Buckley.”
Tommy’s hand starts to move just slightly and before he can even process it, Buck grabs his wrist, keeping it just where it is.
“You, uh,” Buck breathes. “You gonna do something about it, Kinard?”
Tommy’s eyes go dark again.
The next thing Buck feels is harsh stubble against his face and soft lips against his, and then his brain just about checks out.
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I was originally intending to ask this around Christmas but it's still winter and therefore still works
Mini about ice skating with the M6?
The Arcana Mini-HCs: Ice Skating with M6
Julian: a tall bundle of flailing limbs. if you can get him to stop overthinking, he's actually pretty good at keeping his balance and moving around. otherwise he's skittering wildly across the ice
Asra: they could do some cool spins and figure skating tricks if they wanted to, but they'd much rather glide along hand-in-hand with you. the type to skate backwards in front of you so you can chat easier
Nadia: she never saw enough ice to learn as a kid, and as an adult, she doesn't like other people seeing her struggle. finds her balance quickly but stays right up against the edge of the ice in slow circles
Muriel: you didn't know he could move this smoothly and gracefully. he's barely moving his feet, and it looks like he's hovering across the ice in swooping arcs as he admires the landscape. totally unaware
Portia: she is nimble and fast and very excited to be doing something so fun. it's all playful games until she figures out how to spray someone with ice when she brakes sideways, and then it's over
Lucio: better at it than he has any right to be. likes zooming as fast as he can in wide circles around the place and finding all the coolest poses he can strike as he brakes. the first to ask to go inside
#ask arcana brainrot#the arcana#the arcana headcanons#the arcana hc#the arcana game#asra the arcana#julian the arcana#nadia the arcana#muriel the arcana#portia the arcana#lucio the arcana#asra alnazar#julian devorak#nadia satrinava#muriel of the kokhuri#portia devorak#lucio morgasson
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Mad Hearts and Temptations // Chapter Three // Wonderland AU
Tropes and Tags: Wonderland romance, instalove, too much sex, destiny, fated lovers.
Content warning: 18+ only minors DNI. dark themes, gore themes, gothic themes, PinV, PinA, oral (f!recieveing, m!recieving), voyeurism, exhibitionism, angst.
A.N.- Although Characters may have face claim to the Bad Omens band as well as Poppy, I have changed their names for the sake of the story. Despite this change I hope everyone still enjoys the story as a whole!
This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people's faces but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.
Taglist(click to be added): @poisongirl616 @ladyveronikawrites @shilohrosechicken @th0ughts-pr4yers @meliferafaerie @itsafullmoon @viofcrows @letmeadoreyoux @latenightmusiclover @transparentwitchnightmare @darling-millicent-aubrey @badomensls @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @mysticdoodlez @srorgana1 @in-another-life @broken0mens @somewhere-diamond @celestineveil @littlefoxkota @silentglassbreak @hayleylatour @sundamariis @lma1986 @thatchickwiththecamera @lilhobgobbler @missduffsblog @asilentsiren @catharsis-in-darkness @dsireland86 @skulliecadaver-blog @laurpartyprogram @faceless-mirror @somebodyels3 @jakeygvf21 @badomensls @thisbicc @cncohshit
The wind rushes past my ears as I plunge deeper and deeper into the abyss. With each passing second, the light above grows fainter while the darkness below swallows me whole. I’ve lost all sense of direction, unable to discern up from down in this vortex of shadows. My stomach lurches with each flip, tossing and turning without control. Strands of hair whip wildly across my eyes, blinding me further in this endless freefall. I flail my arms, grasping at nothing but air that slips through my fingers.
I feel the need to scream but nothing comes out.
The grey swirling mist around me gives way to dark tree branches as I see the forest come through around me. My heart leaps into my throat as I desperately grasp at passing branches and shrubs, trying to slow my momentum. Just when I think my fall will never end, the sleeve of my cardigan snags on an outstretched tree limb, abruptly halting my descent. I dangle helplessly in the air, my feet kicking below me as I struggle to regain my composure. Adrenaline courses through my veins from the sudden shock of my fall and narrow escape. I take a few deep breaths to calm my racing heart, clinging tightly to the branch as it sways under my weight. The quiet creaking barely registers before an ominous snap pierces the silence. In an instant, the branch gives way and I plummet the remaining distance to the forest floor. I land flat on my back, all the air forced from my lungs on impact.
My eyes focus on the sight above me. Gloomy grey clouds swirl in whirlwind circles, like the way a hurricane might look - dark, menacing, and ominous. As I take in the dreary sky, the clouds appear to be spinning faster and faster, morphing into a giant whirlpool directly over my head. I can almost feel the power emanating from their rotation like a vacuum trying to suck me up into oblivion. Sitting up slowly, I feel the soreness in my bones, as if I had slept on the hard ground all night long. The aching penetrates deep, making even the slightest movements arduous and painful. I check for broken bones, wiggling my fingers and toes, bending my arms and legs, and nothing is seriously damaged.
My hands are covered in dirt from the forest floor, if a forest is what you call it, I brush the soil from my hands as I scan the dreary trees around me. The floor is not covered in grass or moss, but a dark and crumbling soil that clings to my skin. It is as if the very life has been sucked from this place, leaving only dust in its wake. The trees that surround me are gnarled and twisted, with branches like boney claws grasping desperately at the oppressive gray sky. They are barren - not a single leaf or bud in sight, just rough bark that seems to slough off in scales. There is an unnatural stillness here, and a damp chill that seeps into my bones. The only movement comes from the fog that swirls eerily between the skeletal trees. It dances just out of reach, sinuous tendrils of mist that seem to have a mind of their own as they curl and twist. The fog circles me like a predator, watching closely but never coming close enough to touch. There is something sinister about this place, as if the very air is heavy with malice.
The world around me is eerily quiet - it's as if someone has hit the mute button on life itself. No birds singing, no rustle of leaves in the breeze, just deafening silence. All I can hear is the rhythmic ticking of a clock, though I see no timepiece nearby. The steady ticks seem unnaturally loud in the void of sound, almost oppressive as they count away each passing second.
I stand from the floor, whipping my head around slowly to find the source of the ticking sound. When she surprises me, she steps out from behind one of the trees. Her long blonde hair cascades straight down to her waist, and I see her soft caramel eyes go wide as she takes in the sight of my dirt-covered self. I jump back in surprise as she stands still where she is, her nose twitching ever so slightly. I relax a little, recognizing the girl from the coffee shop as she steps around the tree, a lace-covered hand still holding to the black bark as if it will save her should I be dangerous.
I feel the panic set in when I see what she is wearing, even more so what rests on her head. Platform shoes that are taller than her feet are wide support her, white stockings disappear under periwinkle leather shorts, which cling tightly to reveal subtly muscular legs. A navy and white corset pulls her narrow waist in dramatically, leaving her body in a perfect hourglass figure. The long tail of her navy trenchcoat brushes the back of her knees as she walks, the black lace at the hem an elegant and beautiful touch. On the top of her head protruding from the platinum locks are two white bunny ears, they stand straight up twitching as she stares at me intently. She reaches down into her pocket and pulls out a silver pocket watch placing it in the palm of her lace gloved hand. Regarding the time, one of her ears flops over as she tsks softly and looks back up at me, stating simply in a melodic voice, "You're very late." I stare in bewilderment, wondering if I'm hallucinating this strange yet alluring sight before me. The girl tilts her head quizzically, bunny ears perked up once again, as she waits for me to respond.
“I…I…late for what?” my voice cracks a little, I have been sucked into this dream again and it’s starting to get old.
The young woman smiles trotting over to me before taking my upper arm, pulling me along as she skips merrily down the forest path, her sheen white hair bouncing with each step. "Come now. So very little to do and so much time," she sings, her voice light and melodic. I hurry to keep up, worried she'll twist an ankle in those heels as we push on through the uneven ground littered with sticks and stones. She stops abruptly and I nearly crash into her back. Turning to me, her face grows pensive, her brows knitting together in concentration.
"So little time, so much to do. Yes, yes, that's it!" she exclaims, having sorted out some internal debate. She resumes her brisk pace, heels clicking on the hard dirt before sinking into the soft soil.
"You should have come through the door. You would have been closer to Hatter that way," she advises as we walk. "But the mirror will do. They are tricky, tricky, tricky. You could have come through completely upside down!" She elaborates on the precarious magic of portal mirrors - how I might have emerged feet where my head should be, eyes planted squarely on my chin. Such a disturbing image, but she seems utterly unfazed by the prospect of such chaos.
"Upside down?" I ask, unable to grasp how that would even work.
"Oh yes!" she readily confirms, no trace of doubt in her voice. Stopping short again, she spins to face me, eyes narrowed.
"Let me see your hands," she demands. I hold them out obediently as she inspects them for the proper number of digits. Satisfied, her expression clouds again. She leans in close, peering at my face intently, and whispers "Do you have hands on your feet?" Mystified, I shake my head no, and she relaxes, beaming.
"Good!" she declares cheerily before pirouetting away once more down the path.
"I'm sorry," Her brisk pace through the winding forest path leaves me struggling to match her graceful steps. She glides effortlessly over fallen branches and mossy stones while I stumble clumsily behind, longing to pause and catch my breath. The further we go, the more I yearn to turn around, retrace my footsteps and return to the place I began. But the mysterious maiden shows no signs of slowing, so I press on, determined not to lose sight of her flickering white dress between the trees up ahead.
"Who exactly are you?" I ask. She giggles white lace glove covering her soft pink glossy lips. My blunt question elicits a melodic laugh as she conceals her mouth with a dainty hand. I fail to grasp what amusement my inquiry brings her. With an elegant twirl, she stops abruptly and faces me, throwing her arms out wide as if presenting herself to an invisible audience.
"I am all that I am and all that I will be. I am Melina, herald to the late white queen," her face falls a little growing somber as she delivers her final line, "and the great red queen." Her prideful introduction gives way to melancholy, ears falling ever so slightly as she seems to choke on the word ‘great’.
After sharing a somber beginning to our encounter, her demeanor suddenly shifts as a radiant grin spreads across her face, lighting up her cheeks with a rosy flush. Her long, snowy rabbit ears, which had drooped mournfully just moments before, now perk up with delight. With renewed enthusiasm, she begins merrily spinning and skipping down the forest path, practically bounding with each step. Her movements are graceful and spirited, reflecting her improved mood. I hurry to keep up as she continues on ahead, but struggle to match her graceful, nimble movements.
“Okay,” She effortlessly scurries up the side of the path, climbing over a large fallen tree blocking our way with ease. I attempt to follow her over the obstacle, but cannot mimic her graceful agility. “Next question, where am I? How did I get here? Isn’t this just a dream?”
Stumbling clumsily back onto the path, I watch her continue on, now skipping backwards so she can face me as we talk. Her mood is clearly much improved from when we first met, transformed from melancholy to positively gleeful in mere moments. Yet while her sadness has passed, my confusion remains. I hurry after her down the path, determined to make sense of this strange world I've found myself in.
“That is three questions, shall I answer in order or answer the ones that would make more sense?” she giggles continuously.
“Nothing makes sense!” I argue looking directly at her soft white bunny ears knowing for certain no person could have ears like that all the time.
"Well, you will never know that something makes sense unless it is said." Her response is not wrong but it doesn't sound right either, I can feel my head splitting already as I touch my temples. Her cryptic words echo in my mind, their meaning just out of reach.
“Where you are is, Otherland. I already told you how you got here-or how you should have come here.”
“The door,” I nod along as she speaks, acting as if I comprehend, but my confusion only grows. Her guidance feels less like truth and more like riddles. I want to believe her, to latch onto any clarity amidst the haze enveloping my mind. Yet as much as I strain to assemble the fragments, the full picture eludes me. “But, I can never open it.”
“Well, now you couldn’t, not with red queen guarding it with her life.” Her elusive responses just leave me grasping at ghosts, the truth always dancing out of reach. If only she would just tell me plainly, perhaps then I could make sense of this madness.
"I hear what you’re saying, but none of it is making sense." I try again to comprehend the confusing words and concepts she is conveying, but they continue to elude me, slipping through my grasp like smoke. She lets out a soft sigh, her eyes rolling upward in frustration as if searching the empty void above for divine inspiration.
Realizing the futility of her abstract explanations that seem clear to her but remain a jumble to me, she concedes: "I am horrible with explanations, too many thoughts scampering about in my head. Dax is far better, he should be with the hatter now. We should keep moving."
At the mention of "the hatter," vivid images from my shadowy dreams flood my mind - a tall, lean figure lurking in the darkness, clad in an impeccable black suit and glossy top hat. Could this be the mysterious man she is referring to? As I recall his chilling words uttered to me in the dead of night - "Ember, set me free" - a shiver runs down my spine. I sense this puzzling dream world and obscure reality are somehow connected, but the link remains just out of reach, as obscure to me as my companion's convoluted elucidations.
We delve deeper into the sinister forest, the canopy now so dense above us that not even a sliver of the gloomy sky peeks through. All around us come unnerving cries and screeches from unseen creatures lurking in the shadows. I flinch with every sound, imagining the unseen horrors to be stalking us, waiting to strike. Never could I have imagined that venturing farther into the impenetrable darkness would reveal such thriving, albeit twisted, life. A screech erupts frightfully close by and I can't help but let out a yelp of fear.
"What was that?!" I exclaim, my voice quivering.
"Bandersnatches," Melina replies matter-of-factly, not missing a beat in her brisk pace. "They roam wild in these woods but won't bother you if you just keep moving." I scurry to stay right on her heels, her flowing jacket now within arm's reach. If any nefarious creature is out to get me, I want to stay as near as possible to my guide through this nightmare realm.
Without warning, another shriek pierces the stillness, causing Melina to halt abruptly in her tracks. Her tall white ears stand erect, nose twitching as she scans the darkened trees around us. I stop short as well, peering anxiously into the shadows, though I know my human eyes are no match for her heightened animal senses. Through the tense silence, the forlorn howl of a hound echoes.
"And that?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper as I follow the mysterious girl through the dark forest. She pauses and turns back to me, silver hair glinting as if it is radiating it’s own light.
"Harlan," she says just as quietly, a hint of urgency in her tone. "The hunt has begun." Her words send a chill down my spine as somewhere in the distance, I hear the baying of hounds. "No, no, no, I'm late," she mutters, checking the silver pocket watch she wears around her neck repeatedly, mumbling "no" to herself as she scrambles up the mossy forest walls on either side of the narrow path.
"Wait!" I cry out desperately, stumbling after her, not wanting to lose my strange guide in this ominous wood. But she halts and holds out a slender hand to stop me as the chilling howl of the hound cries out once more, closer now. She looks frightened, almost torn between staying to lead me through the dark trees and fleeing from some unseen pursuer.
"No. Stay on the path. Move with haste, but stay on the path," she instructs firmly, her luminous eyes boring into mine, willing me to heed her warning before darting off into the blackness of the woods. I'm left alone on the winding trail, my heart pounding as the baying grows louder, wondering who or what hunts these woods at night and what fate awaits if I stray from the path.
I continue the way we were headed, my feet moving with much greater purpose now. The sounds disappear behind me and I feel my heart rate slowing, the dark forest breaks free and I can see the sky once again. The winding forest path stretches on endlessly before me, narrowing as it snakes between the ancient, towering trees. Their gnarled branches reach out overhead, blotting out the moonlight that had briefly illuminated my way. The ground underfoot grows more treacherous, littered with loose rocks, tangled roots and fallen limbs that threaten to twist my ankles with every hurried step. I've been walking for what feels like hours now, though it's impossible to tell in this timeless dreamscape where minutes blend seamlessly into days.
I look down and I no longer can see the clear path in front of me, I panic just slightly turning to see where I may have lost it and think I can retrace my steps to find it again. But behind me the fog has curled over the path like a cat curling around my legs, obscuring any signs of the trail in a thick, milky haze. All I can see now are mangled branches and other forest debris emerging from the mist. Oh fuck, I'm lost.
I turn on my heel, ready to run back and find the path again, afraid I may no longer know my directions in this featureless sea of black. What if I am lost among this forest forever, doomed to wander endlessly through the featureless void? I'm stopped only by a soft whisper, turning I can see the fog whispering in curls as if the wind is blowing through it. The whisper is a soft low sound, rhythmic, like snoring...no, purring.
"I wouldn't if I were you," the disembodied voice purrs, its notes echoing off the trees and curling around me like the fog itself. The voice seems to emanate from the fog itself, surrounding me with its hypnotic susurrus.
"Going back would be cat-astrophic."
#bad omens#noah sebastian#bad omens band#bad omens cult#noahsebastian fanfic#wonderland!au#alice in wonderland retelling#bad omens smut#bad omens au#wonderland!omens#madhatter!noah#bad omens fanfic#bad omens fanfiction
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Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Eight
Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter
Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro
Chapter Eight: The One-Eyed Marimooo
The world’s spinning. You physically can’t breathe. This boy’s whooping in your ear, screaming, “LET’S GOOOOO!” over and over again.
Fucking great. This is it. The end of your journey.
You’re being dragged upwards, a body of limbs flailing from impact. Riding the worst escalator you’ve ever been on. Going up. Up. Up. Up. And up – until, finally, you’re nearing the tip of your ascent.
The moon swallows both of your shadows whole like a voracious celestial behemoth, hungry for the spectacle it's about to witness, and there’s this one second where you and Luffy turn to each other, both flailing in the air.
Just for one second, there’s silence. No whizzing of air or the flapping of bodies, no screams of terror echoing into the abyss – there’s just silence.
Then, you begin your descent.
As the two of you plummet towards the ship, the world speeds up in a dizzying blur of sea and stars and trees and darkness. Ice-cold fear courses through you, as you feel yourself steam in terror, and for a moment, time seems to stretch as if reluctant to witness the impending impact.
Great. This is the way you’re gonna die. Awesome. Well, thanks for everything, Gramps. You shut your eyes tightly, preparing for the sound of God to come thundering down on you.
“Here we go!” Luffy bellows, his voice fighting against the current of the wind. You snap your eyes wide open, undecided on whether to scream at Luffy or at death itself.
With a sudden twist, Luffy's rubbery limbs twang into action. He wraps his arms around you, forming a makeshift cushion against the gravitational pull – you can’t lie, it's a bizarre yet effective mid-air manoeuvre, and you can't help but marvel at the sheer fucking audacity of it.
The wind howls around you, and the world regains its chaotic symphony while Luffy's laughter cuts through the air, a mix of thrill and exhilaration.
And then, with a jarring but surprisingly gentle thud, you land on the Sunny's deck; it's as if gravity itself had a change of heart, deciding to be merciful at the last moment. The ship creaks under the sudden impact, but still, it holds firm beneath you.
Immediately disentangling yourself from Luffy's curling grasp, you stumble off into a direction, steaming with sheer terror and fury. Liquid nitrogen spreads from your feet like wildfire, chilling the Sunny into a post-apocalyptic landscape.
“Woah, woah, what’s goin’ on?” Franky exclaims, gaping at the smoke crackling across the Sunny’s body.
"THAT WAS AWESOME!" Luffy cheers wildly, his arms flinging into the sky. “Did you like it, Raya? Was it fun? You wanna do it again?”
You, on the other hand, are about to throw major hands.
"What. The. Hell, Luffy? What the actual fuck?” you seethe, each word punctuated by bursts of ice shattering beneath you.
"You’re tough, Swordsy. You took it well!" he grins, slapping you on the back with gusto. You stagger forward from the impact, each unintended step leaving frozen disc-like cracks into the floor.
“Raya! Stop moving!” Franky cries out, helplessly gaping at the glacial destruction of his beloved ship.
Arching an eyebrow at Franky's evident distress, Luffy shifts his gaze down to the deck. With a sudden yelp, he exclaims, "WOAH! Why's it snowing in this kinda weather?"
"It's not the weather, Luffy," Robin calmly remarks as she and the others begin boarding the ship. She observes you with a surprised curiosity. "It's Raya."
“But you’re a fire-user…” Sanji’s questions, a curious cigarette dangling in his mouth. His eyes flicker to the floor, staring at poor Franky who’s knelt over the damage, helplessly scraping his metal fingers through the mist. “Isn’t this liquid nitrogen?”
“Yeah, um…I ate the Burn-Burn fruit…” you quickly answer before looking down at Franky. Guilt washes over you as you realise the extent of the damage to his hard work. “I’m so sorry, Franky…I’ll fix this for sure.”
“Mmmh,” Franky responds miserably.
“What’s a Burn-Burn fruit?” Usopp pipes out, squidging his face in the small gap between Zoro and Robin.
Robin smiles at you, her eyes lighting up.
“You burn things?” Chopper cocks his head, crawling all over Zoro’s shoulders.
“Yeah – I mean, I’ve been using fire for my whole life, but I’ve recently been trying to…to burn things with ice…” your voice awkwardly falters when you and everyone else diverts their attention to the snowstorm on the floor, your face heating up – and because you’re aware that your face is heating up, your face starts to grow even hotter.
Fuck. You’ve been working on ice for months, and a single fucking fright leads you to unleashing frostbite hell. You knew it’d be too risky - especially with how closely your Burn’s tied to you and your feelings – but Gramps had insisted…
Well, at least you went with ice. At least you didn’t choose electricity…or, heaven forbid, chemicals…
You want to get stronger, don’t you? Gramps’ voice rings in your head like a persistent echo, urging you forward. Fear is a blockage of spirit.
You mutter to yourself, wondering how the hell to shut this man up in your head. It's a constant nagging now, always lecturing, always trying to sound deep and wise beyond his years and he's all so Wano-esque.
Maybe that's why Gramps doesn't complain anymore; he's living rent-free in your head, and he's probably loving every minute of it.
In a heartbeat, the urgent staccato of anxious heels reverberates against the wooden boards, instantly capturing everyone's focus.
"Out of my way!" Nami's commanding cry slices through the air, prompting Usopp and Chopper to emit startled yelps. They stumble away as a streak of vibrant orange hair charges through them like a bolt of lightning. "Raya! Are you okay?!"
"Absolutely," you respond with a wry smile, your sarcasm laced with a lingering adrenaline rush pulsing in your head. “Had a fantastic flight.”
Nami immediately swivels around to Luffy, seizing his head in a firm chokehold. “Don’t ever do that to people who aren’t part of your crew – you got that?”
Luffy, garbling in her grasp, still manages to force out a pout. “Wh – gah – why not?”
“I mean, it doesn’t look that bad…it kinda suits the atmosphere of my show, if you think about it ….” Usopp thinks to himself, tapping a finger to his chin. He stares at the ice cooling over the deck, then at Zoro straight in his eye. “Cold, brittle and painful to the touch. Juuust like the one-eyed marimooo.”
"Quit that," Zoro hisses, narrowing his eye at him. "I'm not here for your one-eyed marimo exposé."
Gramps Suki amusedly sighs whilst cleaning his hands with a rag. "Enough with the theatrics, already! Don’t you all have a party to host?”
“Yes! Let us commence!” Usopp shouts in his deep, theatrical voice, jumping on the stage with an air of intrigue and mystique. “Gather, my fellow comrades, and let us begin! Jester, play your most foreshadowing tune!”
Brook grins, and with a -- “Yo-ho-ho! I shall!” -- His fingers begin to strum dramatically across his guitar.
Luffy bursts into excited cackles, dashing to take a seat in front of the stage; Chopper's eyes light up with enthusiasm, and he tugs at Zoro's hair like Ratatouille. Zoro huffs, stumbling forward to gently place them both on the unaffected floor.
Usopp gestures everyone else to sit, and as they all obey his command, he raises his arms to begin.
Brook plays the opening to an intense heavy metal riff. Angular shadows crawl up onto Usopp's face like an army of black ants, moonlight shining a thin silvery trail across his silhouette. Then, he smirks.
“Now, let us unravel the story of the One-Eyed Marimo. Possessing three swords in his reservoir, he has no other room to consider fear…
“I don’t care what society says…” Usopp rasps in a Zoro’s low voice, his marked eye shut firmly as he scowls at the audience. “I’ve never regretted doing anything...”
The crew erupts into wild cackles, caught off guard by Usopp's spot-on impersonation of Zoro. Even Luffy’s rolling on the floor, clutching his stomach with laughter.
Nami shoots a playful glare at Zoro. "Well, it seems Usopp has you figured out!"
Zoro grumbles in response, feigning indifference, but there's a subtle twitch of amusement playing on his lips; Sanji, puffing away on his cigarette, can't help but grin at the accuracy of it all.
Usopp, revelling in the attention, continues the act with theatrical flair. "Strive to be complete with everything you have!" he mutters coarsely, mimicking Zoro's trademark three-sword stance. "No hesitation!"
In the midst of the laughter, Luffy, still rolling on the floor, manages to gasp out, "Let me have a go!"
With a burst of energy, Luffy propels himself off the floor and somersaults onto the stage, landing next to Usopp. His grin is infectious, and the crew watches in anticipation, wondering what kind of chaos Luffy's going to unleash this time.
"Alright, alright! Watch this!" Luffy declares, mimicking Zoro's posture with exaggerated seriousness.
Luffy slaps his hand to his forehead, his eye looking as narrowed and sharp as Zoro’s, scanning across the audience with apathy. Mimicking the marimo’s slouched posture and crossed arms, he lets out a half-hearted, "Mmmm. Where are those idiots? You idiots. Bastards. Stupid idiots.”
Nami, still holding onto Luffy's earlier attack on you, can't help but burst into laughter.
"You're an idiot yourself, Luffy," she remarks between fits of giggles.
Luffy continues with the impersonation, exaggerating Zoro's stern expression. "Why are we even doing this party thing? Shouldn't we be out training and getting stronger? You guys are all a bunch of slackers."
Zoro, trying to stop himself from smirking, mutters under his breath, "Idiot captain..."
Usopp, fake gasping, his hands slapped on each side of face, joins Luffy on the stage. "Hey, marimo, look! It's your fan club!"
Luffy continues his impersonation, now adding a comically serious tone, kissing his teeth dramatically. "TCH. I don't need a fan club. I'm just here because I want to be. TCH."
Nami, still holding her laughter from Luffy's antics, suddenly spots Chopper perched on Zoro's shoulder. With a devious grin, she strides over, seizing the opportunity for her own brand of amusement.
"I'm taking over, Swordsmen!" Nami declares with a sly grin, directing a mischievous gaze at Luffy and Usopp. With a swift motion, she grabs Chopper from Zoro's shoulder and cradles him in her arms, adopting the same serious expression Zoro has.
"I'm not a caring guy," Nami says, mimicking Zoro's gruff voice with surprising accuracy. "I don't have time for this fluffy stuff."
Despite her stern words, there's a playful glint in Nami's eyes as she proceeds to pretend to wash Chopper's back, combing through his fur like a loving father-figure. The crew watches, thoroughly entertained, as Nami continues the charade.
"I'm really not!" Nami insists, patting Chopper's head sweetly like he's a child. "Shut up, Chopper! I'm a marimo, not a babysitter!"
With a flourish, Nami pretends to spoon feed Chopper imaginary food, all while maintaining the serious demeanour of the marimo she's impersonating.
"Swallow your food like a man, Chopper!" she exclaims, channelling the essence of Zoro's gruff and no-nonsense attitude.
You burst into laughter, raising your eyebrow at Nami’s interpretation. “Didn’t know you were a father, marimo?"
"More like the guy who tells brats to stay off his lawn," Zoro retorts, slightly amused by Nami's depiction of him.
Chopper, for his part, seems to be enjoying the attention, giggling between bites of fake food as Nami continues her exaggerated impersonation.
"BUT WAIT!" Usopp roars, reclaiming the spotlight at the centre of the stage. "With every move he makes, with every swing of his swords, he bears every burden without a single complaint.. The glint in his eyes mirrors the strength with which he unleashes his fury upon his enemies...While we actors may be well-refined, only the true master, the One-Eyed marimo, can reveal the elegance of his three-sword style."
He dramatically extends his arm, pointing directly at Zoro. "One-eyed Marimo, step forward and grace us with your power!"
Zoro, still feigning indifference but with a subtle hint of amusement, rises from his seat and ambles towards the stage. Everyone holds their breath, curious to see if their stoic samurai is going to play along.
Usopp, ever the storyteller, encourages the act with a flourish. "Behold, ladies and gentlemen! Witness the formidable three-sword style of our very own marimo!"
Zoro, with a smirk playing on his lips, picks up three scrap metal swords from the barrel with practiced precision. The moonlight casts a silvery glow on the blades as he assumes a battle-ready stance.
Usopp continues his narration, his voice filled with dramatic flair. "The marimo's blades move like an intricate dance, a deadly ballet choreographed by the hand of a true master. Each stroke is a testament to his skill and determination. A fearsome whirlwind of steel awaits any who dare to challenge him."
Captured by the performance, you watch as Zoro gracefully manoeuvres the swords, each movement embodying the essence of his true prowess.
Well... You lean further against the ship’s banister, folding your arms in intrigue. Maybe you underestimated his skills a little bit…
Nami, still in her Zoro persona, crosses her arms and watches with feigned indifference. "Hmph. Not bad, marimo. But you still owe me money."
Zoro, not missing a beat, retorts, "I don't owe you anything, navigator. Keep dreaming."
As Zoro continues his swordplay, the crew, now fully immersed in the theatrical atmosphere, can't help but marvel at their powerful friend.
Usopp, revelling in the success of his storytelling, raises his arms for a grand finale. "And thus concludes our tale of the one-eyed marimo and his legendary three-sword style! A round of applause for our fearless swordsman!"
☽
Luffy, having kicked up his feet, sprawls over the stage, his stomach emitting audible growls that resonate with exaggerated hunger. He moans theatrically, a performance of hunger so dramatic that even the stars seem to take notice. The sheer anticipation of food makes him twirl his fingers, mimicking a culinary dance in the air.
Beside him, Brook lies gracefully, his skeletal form seamlessly integrated with his guitar. The moonlight casts angular shadows across his bony joints as he strums, creating a hauntingly beautiful harmony that intertwines with the soft pop melodies. His fingers move with spectral precision, producing notes that linger in the night air like echoes of a distant serenade.
Gramps and Sanji, side by side at the grill, are a dynamic duo in the art of cooking. The sizzle of food on the grill mixes with their laughter as they exchange culinary wisdom. Sanji, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, moves with grace and precision, mirroring Gramps's knife techniques. The rhythmic dance of flames and the clattering of knives creates a symphony that harmonises against the rhythm of the sea.
Gramps, with a twinkle in his eye, reaches into his pocket and retrieves a set of culinary knives, self-crafted with meticulous care. He hands them to Sanji, a gesture of appreciation for the true artistry that the cook brings to the crew. Sanji, looking at the knives with admiration, expresses his gratitude, a genuine smile spreading across his face.
Meanwhile, Zoro lies sprawled on the deck, a bottle of sake in hand. He drinks with a contented expression, lounging beside Chopper and Franky. The trio shares a moment of loud discussion and playful arguments, their laughter blending with the distant sounds of music and fire. Zoro, with a playful glint in his eye, raises his bottle in a silent toast to the night.
Over in a quiet corner, Robin and Usopp are deep into a board game showdown. Glasses clink, and laughter breaks out as they banter back and forth. Robin, grinning with confidence, seals her fifth consecutive win. She shoots a knowing look at a defeated Usopp, signaling that he's now on the hook for three vodka shots to make up for it.
Nami, reclining on the banister beside you, holds a beer in hand as she gazes at the stars echoing across the rippling sea. The soft glow of moonlight highlights her thoughtful expression; the atmosphere is serene, a stark contrast to the energetic celebration unfolding behind you.
You turn to Nami, and a small, comforting smile plays on your lips. The distant laughter and music provide a somewhat comforting backdrop to the quiet moment between you and Nami. As you nudge your shoulder against hers, a silent understanding passes between you two.
In the tranquil embrace of the night, you speak with a gentle hush.
"You okay?" you ask, concern threading through your words.
Nami, drawn from her contemplative thoughts, manages a smile that carries a hint of melancholy. "Yeah, yeah… It’s just – I was thinking… Are you sure you don’t want to join us?"
A subtle ache tugs at your heart. It tempts you; it really does.
You avert your gaze, turning your attention back to the vast expanse of the sea. The horizon, bathed in moonlight, stretches out before you, almost too perfectly serene against the gentle lapping of the waves.
"I have so many responsibilities here…and joining you guys would just be dangerous – I don’t…" Your voice trails off, leaving the unspoken implication hanging in the air. This idea of duty, a tether to the ship and its crew, makes you worry.
Nami regards you with understanding eyes, her own gaze drifting towards the horizon. The night carries a delicate balance of joy and solitude, and in this quiet exchange, the weight of unspoken worries and unfulfilled desires lingers beneath the starlit sky.
“I know…it’s just – the offer still stands,” she says, taking a huge gulp of her beer.
As you casually lean against the banister, soaking in the excitement, joy, and life of these people, your attention is drawn to your old man. A subtle tension rests in his arms as he attempts to force a smile, scanning the surroundings with suspicion.
That can't be a good sign. It's never a good sign.
“Hey Nami, I’m gonna go refill my drink,” you say, your eyes never leaving your Gramps.
You leave Nami on the banister, the rhythmic sound of the sea and distant revelry accompanying your steps as you approach Gramps. He's standing near the edge of the ship, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a watchful intensity.
"Gramps," you call out, your voice a soft murmur, trying not to draw attention. He turns towards you, attempting to force a reassuring smile.
"What's going on?" You raise a brow. "You're on edge."
Gramps looks at you, his attempt at a smile faltering for a moment. He places a hand on your shoulder, a mixture of concern and reassurance in his eyes.
"It's nothing to worry about, Raya. Just being cautious, you know how it is," he says, his voice low and measured. "We're in unknown waters, and it doesn't hurt to keep an eye out. But trust me, everything is under control."
You glance around, still sensing an air of tension, but Gramps' words, combined with the steadiness of his gaze, makes you hesitate a little.
You cross your arms, giving him a look. “Are you lying?”
Gramps meets your gaze, and for a moment, his eyes betray a flicker of uncertainty. He sighs, dropping his hand from your shoulder.
"I won't lie to you, Raya. There's... something out there. A...presence," he admits, choosing his words carefully. "But we're prepared, and I don't want you to worry. I will keep you and everyone else safe."
You narrow your eyes, the worry in your chest tightening. "What kind of presence? Gramps, be straight with me."
"I can't say for certain," he confesses, his voice a low murmur, eyes flickering to the others, then to you. "Until we have more information, I need you to trust me and enjoy the celebration. We'll deal with whatever comes our way."
Your arms remain tightly crossed, the unease settling in the pit of your stomach. You shake your head stubbornly. "I can't just ignore this. What if it's a threat?"
Gramps places a hand on your shoulder again, his eyes conveying a mix of warmth and solemnity. "Raya, we've faced countless challenges together, and we've always come out on top. I promise, if things get serious, you'll be the first to know. Right now, I need you to be with your friends. We'll handle this. Trust me."
You pause for a moment, studying him. Your eyes search his face, catching the flicker of a weary resolve in his gaze. Gramps, weathered by years of navigating both treacherous seas and the complexities of life, stands before you with a quiet strength. The lines etched on his face tell stories of battles won and challenges faced, yet in this moment, there's an acknowledgment that the current unknown carries a unique weight.
Finally, Gramps breaks the silence with a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder, his eyes conveying both a plea for trust and a promise of protection. The distant laughter and music from the celebration underscore the gravity of the unspoken exchange, a delicate dance between the duty to protect and the need to savour moments of joy.
"Go back and enjoy the night. I've got everything under control,” he whispers.
As Gramps' words hang in the air, a sudden shift in the atmosphere unsettles the night. The sea, once a serene companion, seems to murmur in a language of foreboding whispers. The distant revelry dims, and an eerie quiet blankets the ship.
You cast one last glance at Gramps, his weary but determined eyes meeting yours. The unspoken understanding between you lingers, the weight of secrets shared beneath the starlit sky.
"Then keep me updated. Please," you whisper, pursing your lips.
As you turn away, a chill crawls up your spine. The night, once full of promise, now grasps onto something else that eclipses the celebration. With a tinge of tension in your body, you walk into the chaos, the unknown presence lingering in the back of your mind, shaping the contours of the abyss that unfolds. The ship anchors itself into the heart of uncertainty, leaving you to navigate the shadows that dance on the edge of the moonlit waves – one that even Nami won’t be able to foresee.
#one piece#one piece zoro#roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro#one piece luffy#luffy#monkey d luffy#one piece ace#straw hat pirates#usopp#sanji#tony tony chopper#nico robin#straw hat luffy#one piece fanfiction#one piece fic#one piece fanfic#op fanfic#op fandom#female reader x zoro#zoro x female reader#zoro x fem reader#three sword style#zoro roronoa#zoro rorono x you#zoro roronoa x y/n#straw hats
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Things We Lost
Warnings: referenced captivity, referenced head injury, fire, nightmares, chronic pain, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, hurt/comfort
Caretaker woke with a start. Whumpee thrashed in the bed next to them, moaning softly as they moved. Caretaker put a gentle hand on Whumpee's shoulder and leaned back. Whumpee had hit them a few times accidentally when they tried to wake Whumpee from a nightmare. Whumpee's limbs flailed.
"Shhhh, love," Caretaker murmured quietly, "it's just a dream. Shhhh, wake up, love. I've got you."
Whumpee's sleep shirt slipped down over their shoulder as they moved, revealing their deep, ragged scars from the fire Whumper had set trying to keep them. Caretaker would never forget finding Whumpee. Would never forget trying to find a way through the flames to Whumpee. Whumpee had watched them with eyes unfocused, their face a mask of blood. Whumper had hurt them, terribly, banging their head on concrete before setting fire to the warehouse. Caretaker was in the midst of trying to find another way to Whumpee, when Whumpee leapt through the flames, their ragged clothing catching fire.
And Whumpee's screams of pain were a sound that Caretaker would never forget. The sound of pure agony ripping itself from Whumpee's lips. The sound lived forever in Caretaker's brain.
Whumpee had lost a lot in their time with Whumpee. But they were healing. Slowly. The doctors had assured Caretaker Whumpee would make a full recovery, albeit they would likely suffer from some chronic pain. But they would live. And function.
"Love, I'm here, wake up," Caretaker shook Whumpee's shoulder.
Whumpee's eyes snapped open, a shriek escaping their lips. Their eyes were unfocused as they wildly glanced around the room. "NOOO. PLEASE!"
"Whumpee, love, you're here. You're here with me." Caretaker rubbed a soft circle on Whumpee's shoulder. "I'm here. You're safe."
Whumpee blinked slowly. Their eyes began to focus. "Caretaker?" They whispered.
"Here, love. I've got you." They opened their arms for Whumpee.
Whumpee leaned into Caretaker's embrace. "Thank God. That was....a really bad one."
Caretaker squeezed Whumpee tight. "I know. But I've got you. You're safe."
Whumpee snuggled tighter into Caretaker's arms. "I know you do. You're the one thing I didn't lose."
"And I didn't lose you," Caretaker replied softly, kissing the top of Whumpee's head. They didn't. But they very nearly had.
"Will you hold me until I fall asleep again?" Whumpee's voice was soft and uncertain.
"Of course. I'll hold you as long as you'll let me."
Whumpee let out a sigh of relief, burrowing deep into Caretaker's embrace. "Safe....here," they murmured as they closed their eyes.
"You'll always be safe here, Whumpee. I have you, love. And I'll never let you go."
#serickswrites#whump#whump writing#whumpblr#whump community#tw referenced captivity#tw referenced head injury#tw fire#tw nightmares#tw chronic pain#hurt/aftermath#hurt/recovery#hurt/comfort#caretaker and whumpee#whumpcember#whumpceber 2023#day 16#day 17#day 18#prompt: head injury#prompt: fire#prompt: chronic pain#queue
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Caged Giant
AU story of Sky and Lark meeting (in a cell. Cause he's captured.)
Mild nudity and violence.
The first mistake the celestial giants made was allowing themselves to exist as a corporeal form of flesh.
The second mistake was to assume that humanity would not take advantage of this.
Though massive, colossal in size and power, the titans were still what they were; giant humans. Often taking the form of muscular, masculine humans, the titans were immediately perceived as threats to the much smaller humans of their new world as soon as they appeared.
It didn’t take long after the first titans appeared before the humans waged a war on them. Countless battles of humanity’s finest weapons versus the towering titanic beings, who retaliated with just as much force, shaped the world to how it is today; a kill or capture on-sight order on all titans.
That is not to say that titans themselves did not respond to such threats. While humans, singularly, are smaller than one of their digits, their strength came in numbers. The titans learned very quickly not to underestimate the humans, lest they found themselves being felled or captured by the human’s various contraptions.
The Black Boxes proved to be the most formidable tool against the titans. Forged from an alloy of tungsten and titan blood, these cube-like devices operated via remote control like a drone. Varying in size and sometimes shape, the Black Box was humanity’s greatest achievement, and the titan’s bane.
Though the Boxes may seem like a trivial thing in regards to beating back a towering giant, their unassuming appearance belied a horrifying ability.
The ability to move in any space without regards of obstructions.
Completely indestructible, even from a titan’s perspective, a Black Box could feasibly burrow itself into flesh, bone, rock and stone without any resistance. The Box itself can hover, translate, and rotate on any axis, through any material, in any space. A single Box, though only the size of a small refrigerator, could subdue a 200ft tall titan simply by hovering and pressuring their body, forcing them to the ground. Similarly, Black Chains, made of the same alloy, would be looped around limbs and secured, an inescapable bond.
A titan bound in these chains had no choice but to submit themselves to the will of the Box. And those who controlled the Black Box, controlled the war against titans, and titans themselves.
In a remote location in the northern mountains, a singular titan was being dragged relentlessly across the landscape. His feet, clothed in thick, winter boots, were restrained by loops of Black Chains. His arms flailed wildly as his colossal frame dug trenches in the half-frozen ground, gripping into trees, rocks, and hills with no avail. The Black Box operators drove in a convoy behind him, just out of reach, while the Box itself hovered along, pulling its chains taut around its colossal captive.
The titan was named Sky, and he was taken captive for one reason; to extract his precious and valuable blood. It didn’t matter if he was alive or dead, but keeping him alive was the human’s prerogative, in order to use him as a giant blood bag. The titan’s blood, inky blue in color, would be later refined and reduced into a usable form to be smelted into the indestructible tungsten alloy.
Sky’s clothing, an outfit equipped for the harsh cold, was ripping to shreds as he was dragged over rock and gravel. Soon there would be nothing left to shield his back and stomach from the relentless capture. He cursed himself for falling for the human’s trap; using Black Chains to trip and snare Sky as he walked, blissfully unaware of the danger.
Luckily for the titan, the convoy was approaching their destination. A remote facility in the mountains, where he would be sealed inside their enormous cell, never to see the light of day again. By this time, another loop of chains would appear, controlled with extreme precision to loop around Sky’s wrists. Though weighing easily more than 2 million pounds, the titan was effortlessly lifted by his arms and legs by two black cubes no bigger than his thumbnail.
It must have been quite a spectacle, a giant man lifted high into the air by nearly imperceptible forces, hoisted above the concrete facility and lowered into a cell through two hatch doors. Humanity’s greatest tool at work.
The cell where Sky was lowered into was not crafted for comfort. Three of the four walls were solid concrete, several dozen feet thick and reinforced with steel rebar. The fourth wall was mostly concrete, with a large observational window at the top, spanned by metal walkways. While the glass was certainly thick, it was still breakable by a giant’s fist; if not for the electrified force field surrounding the inside. Any attack against the force field while active would result in an explosive backwards force, propelling any incoming object in the opposite direction.
This huge window would allow the humans on the other side the ability to observe the captive in the cell. As Sky’s huge body lowered into the cell, the man thrashed and fought with all of his might, to no avail. His body thumped on the cell floor and the Black Boxes immediately got to work, deploying robotic limbs from a hatch on the underside of the cube. The limbs gripped the titan’s clothing and stripped him, pulling and lacerating his coat and shirt by the seams, carefully preserving the shape of the patterns while Sky resisted as much as he could with his wrists bound behind his back and his ankles wrapped up.
The humans wasted nothing from the titan. Not only would he be used to collect priceless blood, but quite literally would his clothes be taken from his back. The massive bolts of fabric had their uses, and before long the giant was left wearing nothing but his briefs. At least the humans maintained some level of decency towards their giant captive, or perhaps they simply did not wish to view his private parts from the safety of their glass windows just yet.
Finally, out of one of the trap doors in the concrete walls, a Black Box emerged, equipped with a very large syringe. The device wasted no time in injecting its tip into Sky’s exposed thigh, drawing the plunger back and extracting over a hundred gallons of blood in seconds.
This would be the extent of Sky’s captivity. Bound by wrist and ankle, almost entirely naked on the cold concrete floor of a giant cell, poked and prodded throughout the day by robotic arms. Every now and then the giant’s blue eyes would look up at the window, glaring at the tiny, unassuming humans that monitored his every move.
After one week, Sky’s strength was diminished. The humans offered him meager food and water, barely enough to sustain his massive form. The titan relished the moments at the end of the day when the humans would sleep and cease their sampling, and he’d rest his head back and listen to nothing but the sounds of his stomach groaning.
As the last of the machines hovered along the concrete wall, as if following an invisible circuit, a hatch opened just above the giant’s head. These hatches lined the walls of the cell, concealing tunnels and passageways for the Black Boxes to travel through. As the hatch door opened to receive a Box, something else came out; a human.
This human looked different from the ones who observed the titan from the cell windows. She dressed like a hiker, complete with a backpack to compliment her cargo pants and hiking boots. The human, named Lark, scurried to the entrance of the tunnel, looking down at none other than the giant’s head below her.
“Crap… this is too high…” Lark whispered under her breath, frantically looking around for a different route. Evidently she chose the wrong tunnel to exit out of, but she couldn’t go back… not when a Black Box was approaching the hatch.
As Lark debated her choices, Sky opened his eyes and glanced up at the open hatch above his head. He peered at it curiously, wondering if he was just imagining the small voice he heard from within.
Sure enough, as the Black Box approached the open hatch, Lark had no choice but to jump out of the way… plummeting towards the giant’s face.
Sky’s eyes widened at the approaching human. His mouth watered… and all he saw in this moment was the opportunity to have a snack. He arched his head back and gaped his mouth, its interior bright blue, awaiting the arrival of the unfortunate human.
Lark flailed, seeing the giant’s open mouth below her. It all happened so quickly; she landed on Sky’s soft tongue neatly instead of splatting on the concrete floor below. But the view did not last; the giant was eager to sustain himself.
As Sky began hungrily closing his mouth, aiming to seal Lark inside, she began shouting from the confines of his lips.
“Wait!! Don’t eat me, I-I can help you!” Lark shouted in terror as the giant’s mouth closed around her. Saliva flooded around her body, seeping into her clothing. Oh god, this was not the end she wanted to ever have.
Luckily, the titan heard her pleas. He halted, deliberating now on how beneficial it would be if he swallowed a potential lock pick. Lark bit her lip, refraining as best she could from panicking. This giant was hungry… starving, even. She had to be careful if she wanted to get out of this alive.
“Mhm?” Sky mumbled, his mouth still closed tight with Lark inside. He had little reason to trust her words, being a human and all. But maybe, just maybe, if he spared her… they could mutually benefit from it.
“Uhh… ah… okay. Yes, if you let me go, I can disable the Boxes!” Lark squeaked as her tiny, pitiful body began slowly slipping down towards the giant’s gullet. Things were looking bleak. She could hear the growling guts bubbling below, deep within the titan’s body.
Suddenly, the giant’s mouth opened. Lark gasped and fumbled along Sky’s enormous tongue until her head peeked out from his parted lips. At last, she was freed from the horrible belly of the beast. She looked out at the titan’s body, which was propped up against the wall. His arms were bound behind his back, and his ankles wrapped tightly together.
Sky tilted his head forwards, and Lark tumbled out of his mouth and onto his vast, bare chest. He looked at the human on his body forlornly, realizing she wasn’t all that much of a meal now that he saw how tiny she was compared to him. She looked quite disheveled, her blonde hair a tangled, slimy mess.
Lark gazed up at the giant, feeling even smaller under his icy gaze. The air was cold in his cell… but his body beneath her was warm. He spared her life… for a lie.
She didn’t know what to tell him now that she was face to face. Whatever she screamed from inside his mouth moments before was nothing but a bluff.
“Well?” Sky rumbled, staring down at the tiny woman on his chest. He gestured with his shoulders and head towards his enormous back, where his wrists were bound. “Can you start with freeing my hands?”
Lark shuddered. She started glancing around the cell, frantically searching for an escape.
“Uhh…” She muttered as she started to scoot herself backwards along the giant’s torso. Sky’s face grew more and more suspicious.
Suddenly, Lark stood up and leapt down the titan’s belly, sliding down his middle. She did not look back when the titan growled and twisted his colossal body towards her as she fled across the floor.
“Hey!” Sky bellowed, rattling his chains as he instinctively tried to reach for the fleeing woman. His hands remained bound as Lark darted away from him. With no hands to grab, the giant rolled onto his side and stretched his neck out, mouth open, and snapped his teeth just inches away from her backpack.
Lark’s heart beat rapidly as she narrowly avoided his teeth. She ran in the other direction, back towards his middle, where his mouth couldn’t reach.
Sky growled angrily, watching the human dart towards his body, hiding out of sight. With his hands bound, he could only lay uncomfortably on his side, his freedom of movement almost completely restricted. He seemed to have used up the last of his strength to snap at her, and he lay still now, breathing heavily.
“I spared you…” Sky groaned, closing his eyes. He could still taste the human in his mouth… if only he just went with his gut.
Lark huddled in the shadow of the giant’s body, facing the irony of sheltering herself with the body of the giant that sought to devour her. If he wasn’t bound, she’d already been snatched up. Seems that her luck had not run out just yet, even if her plan was ruined instantly by her poor choice of exit.
The room was silent, except for the sound of the giant’s labored breathing. Lark placed her hand on her chest to quiet her own breathing as she glanced around, surrounded on all sides by Sky’s towering frame. Straying from her current position would place her back in range of the titan’s teeth… what was she to do?
“I… I’m sorry.” Lark said in a hushed tone, nearly only audible to herself. “I don’t think I can free you, giant. I just… didn’t want to be eaten.”
Sky heard her words and sighed. “Yeah. I guess that’s fair. You’re just trying to survive too, I suppose.” He groaned as his stomach contracted and growled, sending hunger pangs through his middle. All he could think about now was filling his belly.
Lark shuddered at the sound of the titan’s guts. To think she almost ended up in there…
“Hey. I’m Sky. What’s your name, little one?” Sky said as he craned his head downwards, attempting to get Lark into view. He eyed her standing just beside his chest.
“Oh… um, I’m Lark.” Lark said in a bewildered tone as she stared up at the titan’s face. She instinctively backed up a few steps, not yet trusting the titan, even though he could easily roll over and crush her at this moment.
“Lark… so… what are you doing here?” Sky asked softly. His eyes glanced upwards at the trap door she fell out of. “I’ve never seen humans slide out of one of those before.”
Lark bit her lip and pulled apprehensively at her backpack straps. She found it quite awkward to speak so casually with this titan who was moments away from swallowing her whole.
“I, uh, well I was trying to gain access to this place. Not here, no… the laboratory.” Lark spoke warily, realizing that there were likely cameras monitoring everything in the cell. “Those hatches are everywhere in here. But I guess I went through the wrong one and…”
“Mmm. So you’re a burglar.” Sky chuckled.
“Hey, I wasn’t here to steal! It was to spy.” Lark retorted, which only made Sky laugh even more.
“Better keep your voice down. If the other humans find out you’re trespassing, who knows what will happen~” The titan rumbled as he grunted and rolled back, propping himself against the wall again. Lark suddenly felt very exposed as the titan’s body moved away from her, leaving her out in the open in the middle of the cell.
“H-hey, wait…” She called, and Sky merely smiled as he stared down at her. She looked so small, standing there where he was just laying.
“Y’know, I know a great place for you to hide.” The titan smirked as he ran his blue tongue across his lips.
Lark winced as she witnessed this. Grimacing, the human tore her backpack off and started rummaging through it. Sky watched her do so with interest.
“Okay. Listen, Sky… I have some tools here.” Lark said as she produced a few metal tools from her backpack, in various shapes and sizes. “I can try to hack into the boxes and release your chains… but you have to promise not to eat me.”
“Hmm.” Sky muttered as he narrowed his brows at her. “Can you really do it? This isn’t another bluff, is it?”
“I… will try.” Lark sighed. The odds were narrow, but what other choice did she have? “We’re trapped in here together, so we might as well try to work it out, right?”
“I suppose.” Sky rumbled as he glanced up at the ceiling. Once his chains were loose… the next plan was to get out of the cell. He guessed that the only way out was in the way he came, through those huge trap doors.
“You’re not going to try to eat me, right?” Lark asked as she rummaged through her bag once more.
“For now.” Sky retorted.
“That’s not reassuring.” Lark huffed.
“Fine. I won’t eat you.” The giant said lowly as he gazed down at the human. “Just don’t mess up…”
“I will do my best.” Lark nodded as she walked towards the giant’s back. His towering form was certainly imposing, even with his hands bound behind him. The chains that wrapped around his wrists were surprisingly thin compared to the titan’s hands, though their strength came from the alloy, not the thickness of the links. The chains were tight around each wrist, with a black control box holding each loop together.
Lark bit her lip. She was now behind the giant, who was leaning against the concrete wall with his hands resting on the floor. Just one of his fingers was bigger than she was.
Tentatively, she placed one foot on Sky’s upward palm, glancing up at his titanic body, which did not flinch. She steeled herself and climbed onto the giant’s hand, scooting herself along until she could reach the bonds.
Sky rested his head against the wall, lips twitching with curiosity as he felt the tiny creature scramble onto his hand. He craned his head to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of the action, but his shoulders were simply too broad to accommodate. He could only sit still as the human got to work in his hands.
As Lark fidgeted with the lock box, she realized this would be harder than she thought. The box itself was solidly constructed, with no screws, bolts, or rivets. Even the chains themselves seemed to attach themselves to the box with nothing aside from some invisible force. As her fingers trailed along the metal alloy, she took note of the blue sheen of the metal; the shimmering titan’s blood that gave the Black Boxes their devastating ability to bypass physics.
Hours passed, and Lark tinkered and toyed with every possible tool at her disposal. The chains did not loosen. She found herself slumping into Sky’s palm to rest, a small and unexpected comfort in that cold cell.
Sky himself had drifted to sleep, and took no notice of the human curled up in his bound hands. The morning had come, and as he stirred, the facility had once again come to life around him. The familiar sounds of the hatch doors opened, and out came Black Box devices, setting straight to work on the titan’s blood extraction.
“Lark.” Sky whispered, curling his fingers until they discovered the tiny woman’s form. Lark let out a surprised squeak as she was gently squeezed in Sky’s hand.
“Hey-” she exclaimed, but immediately was silenced as Sky squeezed her tighter, muffling her voice.
“Shh. Stay in my hand. They’ll see you.” He spoke in hushed tones as his blue eyes darted around. Judging from the pressure on his wrists, he realized that Lark did not succeed with the plan. He groaned.
Lark squirmed briefly in his hand, then relaxed when she realized he was merely concealing her. Luckily, she was already hidden behind the titan’s massive body, in his hand which was against the wall. It was very unlikely that she would be seen, and as the day went on, Lark quietly worked at the chains.
Sky felt his energy dwindling even lower. No food or water was offered to him today, and his body was beginning to develop bruises and sores from the concrete. Oddly enough, his only comfort was knowing and feeling Lark busy herself with the attempt to break his chains, working throughout the day in the comfort of his giant, warm hand.
Lark’s tools proved ineffective against the alloy. Her last ditch method involved a metal rasp, in which she used on one of the chain links until the surface was rubbed bare.
The night came yet again, and as the facility shut down for the evening, the pair was left where they started. Trapped.
“Nothing worked, huh.” Sky rumbled, his eyes shut as he slumped against the wall.
“I… I tried…” Lark uttered as her hands shook from the exertion. She herself was becoming fatigued, and still they were no closer to breaking through the chains.
“Well. You put forth a good effort.” The titan said quietly as he leaned back and gave Lark a gentle, reassuring squeeze. For all he knew, the human could have spent the entire time messing around and deceiving him. But in this moment, Sky had to admit, he enjoyed having her in his hand.
Lark wiped her brows and put all of her tools back in her bag. She slowly climbed out of Sky’s hand, which she had become almost accustomed to. The human walked along the giant’s body until she was in view of his gaze.
The two met eyes. Neither were filled with much hope.
Sky glanced down at the tiny human beside him and let out a chuckle. “Heh. Thanks for providing me some company, at least.” He rumbled as he leaned his head back and looked up at the hatch that Lark originally came out of. “I’ve been wondering if any more humans would come out of there.” He gazed forlornly at the hatch.
Lark followed his gaze upwards, staring at the black, metal access hatch.
“I have an idea.” She said suddenly, and Sky lowered his gaze to look at her.
“Oh?” He asked curiously.
“You have to trust me, though.” Lark added.
“Alright. What’s the plan?” Sky asked confidently.
Lark braced herself. She gazed up at the towering titan, his imposing frame filling her vision. Despite their initial meeting, she found herself trusting the giant in kind. Their predicament surely helped in forcing an alliance between the two.
“If you help me get into that hatch… I can make my way to the control room.” Lark said as she pointed at the hatch and trailed her finger around the cell. “From there, I can disable all the Black Boxes and open the main trapdoors.”
Sky stared down at the human, then gazed up at the metal, reinforced trapdoors above him. They were quite high… but perhaps if he was able to stand up and be free of his chains, he could reach.
“… you’d do that? Why?” The giant asked quietly as he stared back down at Lark. There was no reason for her to risk her neck and sneak into the control room after escaping the hatch.
“I… guess I owe you one. Y’know, for not eating me.” Lark admitted. She did not forget about her recent experience in Sky’s mouth.
Sky sighed and gave Lark a sly look. That option was still not off the table for him. But, he decided it was best to put his faith into Lark’s tiny self.
“Fair enough.” He nodded. “So… how do you plan to get up here?” The giant added with an amused smile.
Lark bit her lip as she looked up and down the bound titan’s body. With no way to use his hands to lift her, Sky was reduced to nothing more than a huge pillar of flesh.
Huffing to herself, Lark marched up to the giant’s waistband and grabbed hold, hoisting herself up along the edge of his briefs. Sky watched in utter amusement as the tiny woman climbed up his underwear as if scaling a rock face.
“Ooh. Better be real careful. There’s not much to grip on to up here.” Sky chuckled as Lark collected herself, standing on his groin. The woman huffed again and marched up along the giant’s soft tummy.
“Don’t distract me, please.” Lark retorted as she steadily moved up the sloping torso of the titan. His stomach was squishy, not at all toned and muscular like one would expect of a giant. Her feet sunk into his gut as she walked, which threw off her balance.
Sky squirmed under the tiny human’s touch. Her dainty movements across his stomach tickled him more than he expected.
“Mmm… heh.” The giant uttered as he stiffened his shoulders to brace himself for the inevitable ascent of the little human up his body. “If only I had my hands. Cripes.” Sky muttered in disdain as he had no choice but to sit still and allow himself to be climbed.
“I’m not trying to tickle you…” Lark huffed as she clambered up the middle of the titan’s pillowy pectorals. The access hatch was directly above Sky’s head… which meant she’d be within biting distance as she scaled his shoulders. Her gaze focused on the titan’s mouth as she climbed.
Sky followed her gaze, and chuckled. He couldn’t help but playfully bite his lower lip, which caused Lark to pause.
“… don’t.” Lark pointed up at Sky, as if scolding a rambunctious pet.
“I’m teasing.” The giant droned. “It wouldn’t be very productive if I ate you at this point.”
“Productive.” Lark repeated, mockingly, as she scaled his collarbone and reached his shoulder. The giant side-eyed her, then leaned closer as she stood on top of his broad shoulders.
“Almost there. You ready?” Sky asked softly, and Lark nodded visibly to him.
“I’m ready…” The woman said as she looked up at the top of Sky’s head. His short, black hair looked quite soft. She imagined she’d have to scale up the thick sideburns of the titan’s jaws to get to the top.
However, Sky merely angled his head down and presented the back of his neck. From her position on his shoulder, it was a steady climb up along his trapezoid and finally the back of his skull.
Lark was quite thankful that the titan was so thoughtful. He didn’t have to make this easier for her… but perhaps that was just his nature. As she climbed along the back of Sky’s neck, Lark started to wonder what made humans wage war on titans in the first place. There was nothing quite like the view from atop the giant’s head as he leveled it, with Lark nestled into his hair.
The two sat there quietly for a moment, waiting for the hatch to open and receive the last of the Boxes. Lark held on to Sky’s hair, looking around the cell from her mountainous perch. It was like she was a small bird, settling down to nest.
“Well… stay safe in there.” Sky said quietly as the hatch opened. He stretched his neck up so the top of his head was level with the entrance of the hatch.
Lark stared anxiously into the darkness of the tunnel. She took a deep breath and crawled forward, entering it.
“I’ll try.” She responded bravely as she disappeared into the hole. Shortly afterwards, a Box came along its invisible patrol route and entered the hatch, sealing the door behind.
And then, Sky was alone yet again. He sat there silently, listening intently for Lark’s journey. All was silent.
With no other choice but to wait, the giant closed his eyes and hoped, prayed, for release.
And after one hour later… the alarms blared.
Sky’s eyes shot open as the sirens and lights lit up the facility. A loud hissing noise came from his shackles, and the chains slid off.
The giant pulled his arms out from behind him for the first time. He examined his hands in front of his face, then looked past them, at the observation window of his cell.
From within, he could see the security force closing in on the trespasser. With one final motion, the quick figure typed in one last array of code, and a loud creak came from the ceiling. The top hatch slowly opened.
Lark gave the giant one last look through the glass as she was seized by guards. A smile ran across her lips. Her task was complete.
CRASH!
An enormous hand came towards her. With the force field dropped, Sky’s fist burst through the glass effortlessly.
His broad fingers enveloped Lark and three of the guards. The titan drew his fist back towards his face, where he opened his palm. In the midst of three other people, Lark stood out easily with her red jacket and small frame.
Sky plucked Lark out from the midst of the guards, clutching her tenderly in his other hand while the guards were quickly tipped into his open mouth, disappearing down his throat.
Lark was clutched firmly within the confines of Sky’s hand, but she managed to peek through Sky’s fingers and see him reaching through the window, relentlessly grabbing handfuls of people and devouring them. The sight was horrifying, but Lark tried to remind herself that this was inevitable… a starving titan seeking revenge for the atrocities committed on him. She was just happy that it wasn’t her getting eaten this time...
“Good work, little one.” Sky rumbled once the place had been emptied, turning his gaze towards the trembling woman in his palm. Though he had just devoured a dozen humans, his face was soft. Lark gazed up at him, nodding shyly back in approval.
“Let’s get out of here.” The titan uttered as he stood up to his full height and reached up to the open hatch doors above him. He placed one hand on the edge of the gateway, then looked down at Lark in his free hand. Without hesitation, the titan brought Lark up to his mouth and opened up, placing her on his tongue gently before closing.
Lark squeaked nervously from within the giant’s maw, expecting to be swallowed.
But Sky was careful with her, and merely held her safe in his jaws as he used both free hands to pull himself out of the cell. The giant emerged, illuminated by spot lights along his almost fully nude frame. Before backup could arrive, he moved swiftly, his enormous legs carrying him easily along the terrain.
“I won’t swallow you.” Sky mumbled as he ran, deep into the mountains, where he would lay low for a while.
“D-Do you have to keep me in your mouth though??” Lark retorted, wincing as her clothes were again soaked by titan saliva.
“No pockets.” Sky muttered, amused.
After running several miles into the hills, Sky hunkered himself down in the thick pine forest. He knelt down and brought his hands up to his face, gazing at the raw strips along his wrists and ankles before holding his hands out and plopping Lark onto them from his warm mouth.
Lark sprawled on his hand for a moment before laying on her back and staring up at Sky’s enormous face. She winced after a moment, then sat up and started wiping saliva off her face.
“I’m starting to notice a trend here…” she muttered, cleaning herself. With no response from Sky, she glanced back up at him, taken aback by his expression.
He looked as if he was about to cry.
“...Sky?” She said softly, staring up at his sparkling blue eyes.
The titan blinked, then smiled. He brought Lark even closer to his face as he breathed on her.
“You really did it. You came back and risked your life to save me.” He breathed, his throat starting to hitch.
Lark stared up at the enormous face before her, feeling his breath wash over her. She reached up tentatively and touched the tip of Sky’s nose.
“Ah… I couldn’t just leave you in there to die.” Lark said with a soft smile. She gazed into the titan’s beautiful, glistening eyes.
She touched his nose, and Sky brought her entire body against his face and snuggled into it. Lark became breathless as she was embraced wholly by Sky’s face, his nose, lips, and cheeks pressed her into the back of his hand.
“Sky…?” Lark squeaked, unable to move in his embrace.
Sky merely responded with a soft grunt as he nuzzled his face into his small companion. He had never been so intimate with a human before… her smallness tickled him in an unfamiliar, but welcome way.
He pulled away, glancing at her confused little face.
“Best hug I could manage.” He admitted sheepishly. “I’m really grateful to you. We make a great team, don’t you think?”
Lark lay sprawled in Sky’s hand as he gazed at her. His expression towards her was much softer than before.
“We do make a great team!” Lark replied with a couple firm pats against the titan’s palm. An unlikely friendship between a human and a titan in the midst of an ongoing war.
Now that he was freed, Sky suddenly felt his exhaustion come over him all at once. He heaved a sigh and curled up on the cold ground, clutching Lark in his hand as he fell asleep. Lark squeaked in surprise, then relaxed.
“Trapped again.” She laughed, and snuggled into the giant’s palm.
#story#sky#lark#vore mention#it's not very detailed though#I just thought it would be funny to make their first meeting in this way more rocky
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a perpetual rise - part 3
nightmares in the abbey. terzo and marion escape for the day. read part one / part two. ao3 link.
author’s note: 3.6k words. a little bit of angst, a little bit of fluff. drama maybe. thank you to @angellayercake for catching my grapes mistake :)
Marion's feet felt heavy as she walked up to the doors of the chapel. She couldn’t remember how she got here or where she was coming from. A chill ran through her as she placed her hand on one of the double doors. Her gaze fell to the floor where green smoke was oozing from below the crack of the door.
Something was very wrong here.
She pushed the door open and was met with a blinding wall of smoke. Her chest tightened, breath growing heavy as she walked inside. Marion was sweating with the chapel being unbearably hot as if there was a fire but she couldn’t see where it was coming from. She couldn’t stop herself from continuing through the room, struggling to even see pews in front of her.
Lightning cracked through the room and she was able to catch a glimpse of her surroundings. Something was on the blackstone altar. Marion started to run toward it, having a growing feeling that this was bad, this was very bad.
She nearly tripped over her feet as she reached it, the smoke having cleared in a perfect oval around it. What she saw made her stomach drop but at least now she knew she was only dreaming.
Terzo was laid out, naked on the altar. He was completely still, unbreathing, and his paint looked cracked and old. The stitching on his neck that she had done herself when resurrecting him was cut and clipped. He was so pale, so skinny – it brought her right back to that first night of him in her apartment. She wanted to comfort him, to wrap him in her arms and bring him back just as she had that night.
Turns out, she didn’t have to.
His eyes snapped open and a gasp ripped from his throat. Marion took a step back, her eyes just as wide as his – both of his eyes were white. She had no time to react before Terzo grabbed her by the throat and pulled her down to him. His touch was freezing cold and his fingers felt rough. He was still gasping for air, his eyes darting around the room wildly.
“Amore… amore, what am I doing here?” He sounded terrified, his voice so small and quiet as his eyes scanned her face. “I’m not supposed to be here.” Terzo’s grip on her throat tightened. His jaw clenched and his gaze was heavy on her now. “I’m not supposed to be here, amore. Why did you bring me back? Why?!”
Marion was trying to speak – her mouth moving but nothing coming out. She could feel herself tremble, she could feel the struggle to breath growing as his hand closed around her throat.
“I should have never appeared to you!” He was furious now, bearing his pointed teeth at her. “You’ve ruined me. You’ve ruined me.” Electricity crackled around him and she could feel small shocks from his fingertips. His spare hand was furiously pulling at the threads at his neck before it found its way to hers’. She was trying to scream, tears spilling out of her face as he squeezed the life out of her.
***
Marion woke up screaming and her limbs were flailing underneath the covers. Her eyes flung open as Terzo’s arms wrapped her, pulling him close to her chest. She fought against him but he was too strong.
“Amore… Marion! It’s okay, it’s okay…” He captured her arms in his grasp, forcing them down as his grip on her tightened. There was silence as he started to rock her back and forth, whispering soft reassurances into her ear. Her breathing started to slow and she stopped shaking once she realized she was in their room, in their bed.
“Let me see your eyes.”
Terzo didn’t question it, immediately bringing his face closer to hers. She cupped his face, her fingers brushing his cheeks under his eyes. His green eye was almost completely shrouded in darkness while his white one stood out. She gave a deep sigh of relief before throwing her arms around him and burying her face in his neck.
He held her until she fell back to sleep.
Down the hall of the Ministry, Copia was experiencing a similar dream.
***
He saw right through it straight away – marching right up to the altar with his arms crossed, completely unphased by the smoke and the lightning. His face faltered a bit at the sight of his brother looking in such a state but he knew the truth.
“Do you have to use all these, ehhh… theatrics?” Copia gestured to the smoke around them.
The being opened its white eyes and scrunched its nose before sitting up on the altar and crossing its legs. In the blink of an eye, it was fully dressed in Terzo’s original “less-formal” outfit, spats and all. It bounced its foot that was dangling in the air, a small smirk spreading across its face.
“I already had this all set up so I figured I would just reuse it.” Its voice sounded like Terzo except it was a bit deeper and without the smooth Italian accent. “So, I guess I’ll just cut to the chase then – your brother is shitting all over you and me. He is making a mockery of the Church. Copia, your ascension to the role of Papa is unparalleled. It’s where you’re meant to be. Not him.”
“Do you think I don’t know this?” Copia snapped, surprising himself. “S-sorry. Sorry. He just- he killed Sister Imperator.”
“And now she’s frolicking around in Hell with Nihil, not a care in the world.” It scowled and hopped down from the altar. “It’s up to you now. Restore order to the Church. Perhaps it will finally make your mother proud.”
Copia bit his tongue as It started to stalk closer to him, slinking around strangely similar to how Terzo would. “What am I to do? Doesn’t he, ehhh, fall under your jurisdiction?” He steepled his fingers as he averted his gaze away from It.
“My child — do you not live to serve me?” Its lips curled into a predatory smile, jagged sharp teeth sticking out. “I’m telling you to do this, Copia. And if you fail, you’ve not only failed the Church but you’ve failed me. If I need to step in, you’ll all meet your fate.”
“R-right..” He clasped his hands together, bringing his eyes to meet the other’s. “Guide me, Lucifer, and I will deliver the Church back to you.”
***
Marion stood under the shower stream, letting the water hit her head as she stared straight forward. The nightmare was a pretty rocky start to the day she had already planned so meticulously. She hadn’t dreamed of him since they were together, since she had joined the clergy.
It was still so fresh in her mind. Her fingers lightly brushed over her neck where he had been squeezing her earlier. She gave a soft sigh and returned her attention to the wall in front of her.
After a few seconds, the shower door creaked open and pulled her from her thoughts. Terzo stepped inside, a hand immediately falling to her back as she looked at him over her shoulder. He was quick to lather up shampoo in his hands and began to massage it into her scalp.
Marion hummed and pressed her back against his chest. He gently washed her hair and rinsed it through with water before pressing a small kiss to her shoulder.
“I feel responsible for your nightmare, amore.” Terzo whispered as he grabbed the soap. “I shouldn’t have been so rough with you, si? And I should never have lied to you.” He began carefully washing her body with the soap, taking his time.
“I mean, if you being rough with me gives me nightmares, that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.” Marion spun around to face him with a smile. He was being so sweet to her and it definitely soothed her mind a bit. The nightmare probably didn’t mean anything — it was just the stress getting to her. It had to be, right?
The concern didn’t leave Terzo’s face as he brought his hands to her face. “I will be here to help you through your nightmares, always.” She gazed back at him and placed her hands on his arms. His eyes were wide, forehead creased with worry and his lips pressed into a thin line.
“Terzo, thank you. Now, relax, please.” She whispered. His hair was slicked back with water running down his face. Marion didn’t get to see him like this too often and was lost in the fact that he was so handsome. His sharp cheekbones, his pronounced nose… the faint blush that was rising to his cheeks as he noticed the way she was looking at him.
“Ah, si.” He murmured his one hand settled on her chin, tilting her head up. His cheeks were fully flushed down and a small smile played on his lips. He leaned in and pressed a soft, teasing kiss to her.
“Don’t take too long, we have an appointment to make.” Marion grinned against his lips before slipping out the shower. She could hear him laugh quietly to himself as she draped a towel over herself.
Marion had almost the entire day planned for the two of them. She felt that they hadn’t been able to spend any time outside of the Abbey and that Terzo could use one day to have a little break from his duties (and also so maybe she could get a break, too). She wanted to steal him away from all of this so they could just be together for one day.
She quickly got herself ready, opting for a pair of blue jeans and a sweater. Her hair was drying in a towel when Terzo emerged from the shower.
“Am I still going incognito, eh?”
“Yup.”
He dramatically removed his towel as he ran one of his hands through his still wet hair. No paint, not today. He quickly slipped on a pair of jeans and a hoodie. Marion couldn’t couldn’t help but smile at him in his outfit.
“You look like a punk.”
“I am a punk, amore.”
Marion pulled her hair from the towel and handed it to Terzo who quickly dried his own hair with it. He then pulled the hood up over his head and grabbed his aviators.
They were being sneaky and it was definitely fun for the two of them. The easiest way to leave the Abbey without too many people noticing was to go through the graveyard. It was cool outside and they walked with their arms linked and bodies close, with a little skip in their step.
Terzo came to a stop as they reached the mausoleums. His was still standing. They walked slowly as they passed Secondo’s and Primo’s.
“I haven’t introduced them to you yet, have I, amore? We must visit them soon.” He gently squeezed her arm and she nodded. They hadn’t talked much about his other brothers since returning to the Abbey, with most of their talks being consumed by Copia and his moods.
Marion hadn’t driven in a long time but it felt nice for her to be behind the wheel of a car again. Of course, Terzo immediately put his feet up on the dash and set the passenger seat back as far as it would go.
She deliberately picked a place that was close to the Abbey just in case something were to happen. They pulled up to a small strip mall and got out of the car. Marion looked over at him and it was really hard for her not to swoon — he looked so different, just like a normal dude you would run into while walking around town.
“Oh, cara, are we-?”
“Yes, we are getting mani-pedis. You deserve some pampering I think.” Marion smiled at him and watched with delight as his face lit up from behind his aviators. He took her hand and they quickly walked inside, their excitement starting to build.
As soon as they were situated, he turned up the charm with all of the ladies inside the salon swooning over him. They were able to act like they were just a normal couple having a fun little date, getting their nails done. A few of the nail technicians complimented Terzo on his “choker”, little did they know that it was what made sure his head didn’t roll off his shoulders.
“Amore, this is just what I needed.” He sighed deeply as he rested his head back against the headrest of the chair, some of his hair falling to his forehead. “What we needed. I would squeeze your hand right now if I could.”
Marion did the same, resting her head against the headrest as the nail technician worked on her finger and toe nails. It felt like a long time since she was able to turn off her brain without some invasive thoughts about her new life creeping into her mind. But right now, she was able to enjoy the calmness of getting her nails done, with even the nightmare she had far away from her from her thoughts.
Soon, they were sat beside each other as their nails dried underneath the drying station. She peaked down at Terzo’s big feet in small, pink flip flops and she couldn't help but give a small giggle. He immediately nudged her playfully with his shoulder.
“This is very nice, Marion.” His voice was quiet and continued to lean his shoulder against hers. “This… ehh, no one’s ever…” He stopped himself, giving some time for his brain to catch up with his mouth. “No one’s ever done something like this for me. I mean, of course, I’ve been a bit spoiled while being Papa but… no one’s ever done something like this for me.”
“You deserve it.” She nodded to him, their eyes meeting for a long moment until she broke into a wide grin. “Even though you lied to me.”
“Ah, cara, how much more would you like me to apologize? I will as many times as you want me to.” He snuck a quick kiss to her cheek.
Her cheeks flushed and she couldn’t help but giggle. They had these moments together in their private quarters all the time but being able to have a moment like this while in public on a date? It made her heart swell.
Once their nails had dried they compared them against each other’s. Terzo had opted for short black nails (so he could still wear his fancy, tight gloves) and Marion got almond shaped, blood red nails (seemed to fit the theme of the Abbey).
They continued on with their date day, with Terzo blowing all the ladies kisses as they left the nail salon. Their next stop was a short walk down the strip mall: a hole in the wall pizza shop. He was nearly vibrating with excitement.
“A couple of slices and a soda! Perfetto!”
Marion had never seen him this visibly happy before, which when thinking about it seemed somewhat sad. He had to put on the mysterious, powerful front of being the leader of the Clergy (with some of his natural charm and playfulness). Here, he could just be himself.
“You know, amore, I’ve been reading your work every day.” Terzo mused as he added parmesan to one of his slices. “I always find a little bit of time to read what’s been added. It’s been helping me, eh, reflect on where we started and where we are now.”
“It’s a lot, isn’t it?”
“So much. Especially for you, Marion.” His sharp features softened a bit. Marion’s lips started to pull into a smile as she took him in, the small blush on his cheeks and how cute his freckles were on his nose. “The more I read what you’ve, ehh, expertly written, the more I fall in love with you all over again.” He was whispering now, his eyes fixated on her.
Her mouth dropped open but no words came out. For so long, she had yearned for a love like this. Love from someone who was strong and powerful but treated her like an equal. She could feel tears start to well up and cry.
“O-oh, Marion, don’t cry — I can’t wipe away your tears because my fingers are greasy.”
She snorted as she dabbed her eyes with a paper napkin. “No, no, it’s good tears. Happy tears. I am being a baby.” Marion laughed again as he wiggled his greasy fingers in her direction. “I am really glad that we found each other.”
“Ah, si. Me too.”
They dig in, leaving nothing but a few crumpled napkins as evidence of their pizza party. Terzo stretched out on his side of the booth, his feet dangling off the seat as he eyed her up. “Tesoro, I’m sure you don’t want to speak about it anymore but your nightmare… per favore, please tell me about it. It scared you so.”
Marion took a deep sip of her soda. “It was you but… but it wasn’t.” She furrowed her brow. “You were upset with me for bringing you back. You had ripped off the stitching on your… you know. You said I ruined you.” She sighed deeply. “But, it was just a very scary dream. I know you don’t feel that way.”
“Of course I don’t, amore. I am indebted to you forever for how you’ve helped me.” He reached out for her hand. “You mentioned something about my eyes last night?”
“Y-yeah. You had two white eyes in the nightmare. Looked extra spooky.” She settled her hand in his and gave a small laugh. Terzo didn’t say anything and only squeezed her hand tight as his thoughts started to wander.
***
They held hands as they strolled through the Abbey graveyard back to the quarters. It was always so calm there, almost empty unless there was some kind of ritual going on. Marion made a note to herself to explore it more in her spare time.
“So, I have something to ask you about and I want you to be, uh, chill about it.”
“Chill? I can be chill, tesoro, of course. What is it?”
“I’ve heard some rumors…” She started, swallowing thickly before continuing. “About breeding here?”
Terzo stopped in his tracks and let go of her hand. “What? Who said that to you?” He was all but growling, his teeth showing.
“It’s not important. Is that a thing here? Or is it just a weird way of saying having kids with the person you love?” Marion crossed her arms as he waited for his response. He seemed to be at a loss for words, trying to come up with what to say to her while also fuming at whoever told her. “And… while we are on the topic, have you thought about having kids?”
“I… I have been thinking about it. More and more since I’ve come back. Since I’ve been with you. I like the idea of it… but it scares me.” He gave her a sad look and she knew what he was talking about. The man had severe daddy issues. “I don’t think it’s something I would want… now. I’m not even sure it’s possible because what I am." Terzo blinked at her a few times. “Do you want kids, Marion?”
“I’ve always thought it would be something I would do eventually. Eventually.” She smiled softly at him. “If it’s not something you want now, I think we should be a bit more careful. I mean, last night…”
“Ah, si… we aren’t fucking in dreams anymore, are we?” Terzo cracked his most shit-eating grin and she couldn’t help but nudge him with her shoulder in fake frustration.
“I do have one more gift for you, Terzo. It’s very small, not anything crazy, but I thought it would be nice.” Marion stepped away from him and reached behind one of the headstones nearby and pulled out a plant. “For your study!”
His eyes went so wide behind his aviators as he reached out for the plant.
“It’s a Raven ZZ. I thought it was neat and it’s black like your outfits and… are you okay?” Marion reached for him, his shoulders having slumped and his gaze staring at the plant. She rubbed at his arms as he melted against her, still holding the plant close to him.
“This is so sweet, amore. Grazie, thank you.” His voice cracked as he whispered against her head, then pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. “I have something for you, as well. Let me drop this in my study and I’ll meet you at our quarters.”
Before she was able to answer, he was already walking briskly away. She wanted to call out to him to make sure no one saw him in his disguise but then she was afraid that would draw more attention to him, so she let him go.
The walk back to their quarters would have been quick but she took her time before she got there. Marion wanted to relish in the time she had before she went back to her position and the challenges that came with it.
She must have really taken her time because once she got back to their quarters, Terzo was already there waiting for her with something in his arms. Something furry. It popped its head up out of his arms, one ear flopped while the either was pointed.
“Oh my fuck.”
#terzo#papa emeritus iii#papa emeritus iii x female oc#terzo x female oc#ghost fanfics#ghost fanfiction#ghost fanfic
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DUDE NOOOOOOO!!!!😭😭😭😭😭 that ask about Quaritch dying was so SADD—
Could we please have an alternative ending to it, where he does wake? Just a little, teeny tiny drabble 🥺
For you, anon, I shall!
“Quaritch!” Spider screamed, in sync with Cupcake’s own hysteric screech, his trembling hands punching into the man’s chest as the Irkan flapped her wings in agitation. “Dad! Wake up! Wake up! Please, wake up! Dad please!”
He didn’t even notice the term of endearing slipping from his lips as he tried to force his father’s heart to beat.
Spider screamed and continued chest compressions until his arms were nothing but dead weight and he could do nothing but pathetically press his masked forehead to the man’s still chest. “Please… please please please…” He sobbed, clenching his weak fists against cold blue skin. “Please, don’t leave me. Don’t leave.” He shook his masked face against Quaritch’s skin, snot and tears mixing near the bottom of the glass. “Don’t go.”
His breath was ragged in his lungs, straining and burning like they were on fire… and as he lay sobbing against his father’s chest, that fire slowly spread to bubble throughout his body until his trembling fists were warm with a familiar emotion.
Rage.
“You promised.” Spider rasped, teeth gritting as he lifted his head from the man’s chest to stare at his lax face. “You promised me you’d always be there.”
Spider’s breath was catching in his throat as he tried to blink away the tears that blurred his vision.
His fists were no longer shaking from exhaustion, but for a different reason entirely.
“You son of a bitch!” Those hands shot out and slammed down onto Quaritch’s chest as the boy was swallowed in his grief and rage. “You fucking lied to me! You’re nothing but a stupid liar!”
Spider’s words were punctuated with his slamming fists.
Cupcake’s screams of protest were barely static in his ears as his vision tunneled entirely on the still form of his father.
“I fucking trusted you! I-!”
The body under him started convulsing.
Spider’s head snapped up in time to see Quaritch vomiting up water all over his lower face and chest.
And it was the most beautiful sight Spider had ever seen.
The boy was jerked from his shock when his father’s tail slapped into his thigh, forcing him into action as he lunged up to crouch near the man’s head, the Irkan clicking and shifting excitedly behind him. “Oh Eywa, thank you.” He choked as he wiped the expelled water from Quaritch’s cold face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Quaritch’s yellow eyes were wide and delirious, his ears pinned back, and his mouth slightly gapped as he panted and gasped for breath. The man’s hands flailed at his sides and reaching for his bare chest, and his feet and tail kicked and thumped wildly against the stone.
Spider continued to cry and praise Eywa as he rolled his father onto his side and slapped him on the back, forcing the man to cough up as much water as he could.
Eventually, Quaritch’s eyes closed once more and he drifted off to sleep. Spider felt panicked at not being able to see his eyes… but he knew sleep was the best medicine he had at the moment. So, with his limbs heavy with exhaustion and his heart heavy with a rollercoaster of emotions, he collapsed onto his rear next to Quaritch and leaned his back against his side, staring blankly out at the distant wreckage and the rising daylight. He couldn’t even bring himself to care that the Sully’s were somewhere out there, possibly waiting for him to find them… and he forced himself to ignore the sharp stinging on his chest, where Neytiri’s blade cut into him…
Cupcake’s talons clicked across the stone as she took her position curled near her rider’s head, eyes focused on the sleeping Na’vi and the boy who lay against him.
Spider took comfort in being able to see his father’s chest rise and fall, in seeing his face twitch and his ears flick, in seeing his tail shift and move… in feeling the man’s thunderous heartbeat under his hand. Everything that told him he was alive.
… Quaritch was alive.
His father was alive.
And Spider would wait here until he wakes up. They they could figure everything else out later, but for the moment, he would stay right here and drink in the fact that his father’s eyes would eventually open once more.
#miles quaritch#recom quaritch#spider soccoro#avatar quaritch#avatar spider#na'vi quaritch#spider socorro#avatar#avatar wotw#angst with comfort#angst with happy ending#angst with a hopeful ending#the one moment Spiders anger issues come in handy#quaritch lives!!!#answered asks
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Tickletober day #21: New discovery
So someone had req this, although they had changed it to lee Kuni cause at the time I wasn't sure how to write Sigma but now I do so I'll do the og prompt
Wherever you are, I hope you enjoy :D
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Dazai x Sigma (interpret as you wish)
Lee: Sigma
Ler: Dazai
Warnings: Tickles!
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"Dazai, what's tickling?"
Well, he surely didn't see that one coming "Pfft, you really don't know?"
He shook his head "Nikolai keeps saying how he tickles Fyodor, but I'm not sure what he means by that, so what is it?"
"Well umm..." the brunnette thought for a moment before getting a mischevious idea. "I think it's better if I just show you. Lay down?~" Dazai motioned over to his lap, making Sigma tilt his head like a confused kitten, but he did so anyways. "Now let's see, does this feel funny to you?" he asked while his nimble fingers gave an experimental squeeze to Sigma's sides.
"HAH?!" his body instantly jolted at the weird sensation, arms quickly retracting close to his torso as a defense mechanism.
"Look at that, seems you're ticklish~" the suicidal maniac replied with a playful grin.
"Ticklish? I don't- PFFT! AHAHAHAHAHA! D-DAHAZAHAHAI?!?!?!" poor Sigma squealed and his limbs flailed all over the place as Dazai had started aimlessly scribbling all over his torso.
"Yup! It means when I touch a certain body part, you'll laugh!~" he emphazised with a poke to Sigma's navel, earning a squeak.
"Ihi don't lihihike this- Wahait! Dazai nohoHOHOHO!" legs went kicking wildly as the brunnette wormed his fingers under Sigma's arms.
"You sure you don't like it? You haven't told me to stop, and we still have your lower half to explore~"
Sigma's face went bright red and he gulped, this was going to be a long night for him.
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#augtickletober2023#tickletober2023#bsd#bsd tickle#bsd tickle fic#dazai osamu#sigma#lee!sigma#ler!dazai
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A little snip of another series of fics I wanna write.
Cater had his hands full with a toddler Kalim and Lilia couldn't help but giggle wildly watching his fellow 3rd-year struggle. As normal, Kalim was full of energy, squirming around in the red-head's arms limbs flailing about. The babbling boy was squealing and pointing at things around the room, asking question after question while Cater struggled to not drop him.
Lilia calls out to Cater before he walked out of the room, "It'd be best to grab Jamil while you're at it!"
"JAMIL'S HERE!?" Kalim screamed, nearly launching himself out of Cater's arms in excitement.
Lilia smiles at the venomous look Cater throws over his shoulder, the Heartslabyul student holding the excited boy in a half-hazard grapple before leaving his sight. He giggles before feeling a tug on his pants leg and having his world freeze.
Looking down he had to stop his instincts, remind himself he was in public and there'd be too many questions if he and Silver's connection came to light. He couldn't kneel down and scoop his son into his arms without people sticking their noses in their family business. But looking into large pearl eyes and a soft smile, he almost wants to be in an actual fight instead of looking at his newly turned 4-year-old son. He'd feel less guilty killing a man.
"Papa."
"..." Lilia manages to giggle, reaching down to pat his son on the head, "Silly boy. I'm not your father~!"
Silver's smile falls, brows knotting in confusion and a pout comes to his face when Lilia steps away from him. The toddler is stunned into silence before the pout deepens and his lip wobbles just barely. Tears slowly well his eyes as he gently reaches a hand out, trying to grab onto Lilia again, "Papa...?"
God, Lilia wished he was just being stabbed, it'd clearly hurt less.
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Short Prompt #40
"Daaarling~"
Despite moving in two weeks ago, the house was still practically unfurnished, and Supervillain's voice echoed eerily through the emptiness. An unseen wall here, a shadowed wall there; it was all so dark how was Villain to recognize which voice was the original?
They held themself closer to the kitchen wall, heart beating violently against their ribcage while their hands fumbled around the counter in search of drawer handles. If only they could find something, anything...
The clack of footsteps on the hard floor froze them solid. They were close. Closer than Villain had anticipated.
Villain scrambled behind the island just before the lights flicked on, illuminating the blank kitchen in a sterile white light that made the marble countertops gleam too bright.
"I know you're in here, love," Supervillain sang again, this time half whispered.
Goosebumps raised on the back of Villain's neck, and they slowly lowered themself to all fours, padding slowly, hand over hand toward the gaping arch leading to the living room. Escaping through such a large opening was a longshot but it was a better chance than--
Their sock slipped on the polished wood, sending them sprawling forward with a flail of limbs and the loud thunk of their forehead against floorboards.
Supervillain's lurched around the island, every tooth bared and gleaming in a wide, predatory grin.
"Found you."
They swooped down all at once, seizing them roughly under their arms. Villain shrieked.
"No! No!" They thrashed wildly in the larger criminal's grip, but no amount of fighting stopped them from being dragged backward out of the kitchen and through the pitch-black depths of the long, barren hall.
"It's just a dinner!" Supervillain said, veering away from Villain's clawing hands.
"There's going to be two forks!"
"You don't know that!"
"They're heroes!" Villain cried. "They're going to be posh and perfect and condescendingly nice about all our mistakes! I refuse to fall prey to their trickery and wiles!"
"My love," Supervillain said with barely masked exasperation. "It's a double date, not a fight to the death."
#villain x villain#hero x hero#hero x villain#prompt#short prompt#writing prompt#heroes and villains#creative writing#villain#heroes and villains community#fiction#hero#superheroes and villains#hero and villain community
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