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courtingchaos · 4 months

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Commands

Gator Tillman x Fem Reader

Shared Inflicted Pain

Prompt: ‘Gator - I'm thinking of your versions of Gator for this. This ones a bit idk stupid? but I wonder how he'd react to being shoved him down onto snow and getting ridden like hell. Like, I want him to feel good but I also want him to be uncomfortable as hell do you know what I mean? risky, public sex, girl on top but also risking frostbite for the pussy. I need him to suffer for that nut’

A/N: To start with, this is not stupid. This helped me spawn some more plot for later chapters actually so thank you for that. This takes place earlier in the series, just a little one off, but again I’m building the stage as I’m standing on it. Bear with me 😅 ALSO, please please please give me some grace for my terrible German. I’m using dog commands here, running off of a list of them so if I’m wrong or off just let me know.

Warnings: Sex, fighting

18+ NSFW No Minors

He follows whenever you give him that look.

Across the bays or from the front porch it doesn’t matter who’s around, he’s got a gut reaction to it. When you look at him your interest is piqued, no low lidded eyes unfocused to blur the people around you. Theres parts of you that are still something of an enigma to him even after months of this game and he’s not sure when he got so focused on you. It’s not like he’d been dedicated to the cause for Roy, more that he’d been just trying to reach the next raft in his life but in the flat plains of the Midwest he’d found you. Someone interesting and new that made him feel like a stripped wire.

Another trip to the garage with Roy, a silent drive until the truck makes its way up the drive and he squints out of the windshield to the scuffle up ahead. “Looks like your girl is causing an uproar.”

In the mouth of one of the bays a group is pulling at you and a younger man to keep you two apart. Hands pull hard at your coveralls and his hoodie but you win out before him and Gator watches you snatch the front of his sweatshirt. “She isn’t my girl.”

Roy holds up his hand in surrender. “Just a turn of phrase, no harm.” It’s the quiet chuckle that irks Gator the most but he’s tuning out his Uncle while he climbs out of the cab, both eyes stuck on you and what he’s recognized as one of your brothers.

“I told him to fuckin’ leave it!” Your fists curl up tighter and pull your brother in closer. “That’s my shit, not yours, Mark!”

“It’s in the garage!”

“That don’t mean shit!”

He wouldn’t say it felt like slow motion, more that everything else went fuzzy for a second while he watched you rear back. A moment thinking you might headbutt Mark is quickly replaced by honest delight when one fist pulls back with you just to find its home quickly in your brother’s eye. A heavy smack that makes everyone go quiet, blind hands still grasping at him but now to try and keep him on two feet. You’re having none of it though and follow him down to the cement floor with a hand still wound up in his clothes. Held still under you for better aim, Mark barely has enough reaction to get one arm over his face before you rain down punches into whatever part of him you can reach.

“Well I hate to break up this family function.” Roy interrupts but it barely phases your barrage. He watches for a few moments longer before he yells “Hey!”

Everyone snaps to attention except Ty who delves down to pull you off your brother. The scuffle quiets while you try to stalk off into the garage but not before Roy snaps his fingers once at you and points. “You. I need to speak to you and your father.”

Gator tries to decipher something from Roy’s tone but he can’t find the cause for this request. You stare his Uncle down until Ty smacks your arm and nods over to the office, his face screwed up tight. He seems to be the only one here that tries to keep you out of trouble, and the only one you seem to listen to, so you only stall for a second before you make for your father with Roy hot on your heels.

An hour of aimless talk with your eldest younger brother Chris has Gator numb from the monotony. He doesn’t want to talk cars or guns or business with your brothers, he only came along on the off chance he could steal you away for an indeterminate amount of time. A quiet corner, a wordless march to the house and wistfully he thinks about you taking him up to your room finally. He’s seen the mudroom and the long stairs that lead up. He’s even seen the kitchen at this point, a memorable circle around the worn island where you’d stayed just out of reach until you didn’t. Fingers catching your clothing to pull you across the worktop and onto the floor it’s the first time he’d heard you laugh with glee.

“Well where are you goin’?” He asks gruffly while you claw your way across the wood floor. Your laughter echos in the large kitchen and comes from a deep place in your chest while he keeps a hold on your leg. His grip is firm behind your knee and he uses it for leverage to move up your body, his grip switching to your face to squeeze your smile. “Make me chase you and now you’re tryin’ to crawl away.”

You swat at his cheek and manage to get a good hit in, enough to make him pause with a surprised scoff.

“That’s not nice.” The dark tint to his voice doesn’t match the grin on his lips. He watches your eyes widen before you swing your hand again and he pins it over your head before you can make contact. He doesn’t miss the glitter of excitement in your eyes or the quiet moan you try to hold in. “Do I need to show you how to play nice?”

“You don’t want me nice.”

His stomach twists with the knowledge that you’re right and you know it. A feral grin with too many teeth bared make him uneasy in a completely different way.

“Gator!” The snapping fingers next to his head startle him out of his reverie. Chris gives him a confused kind of sneer before he continues talking about his truck and Gator continues his lean back into the wall of the garage. He keeps eyes on the office door with the intent to follow you when you show but 20 minutes turns to 40 and he’s left wondering alone.

The door crashes open as soon as he unlocks his phone though, your boot propping the bottom of the door open for Roy and your Father to walk out.

“In the house?” Roy asks skeptically of your Father, who nods before pointing them both in the direction of the farmhouse.

“It’s where I keep all the important things.”

Gator can hear your eye roll from across the workshop and as soon as their voices fade out into the cold weather he feels you looking at him.

Interest piqued.

Wordlessly he stands to wander outside, waiting to hear the crunch of your footsteps behind him. Keys jingle to announce your appearance before you swipe him with your elbow and nod your head over towards a collection of smaller brick buildings. “Take a walk?”

Something feels off about you today. The normal self determined focus he’s come to expect is gone. You sigh deeply when you start walking but you don’t lead him to the buildings off to the side of the garage, instead walking beside him. Hands shoved into your jacket pockets and face turned down the ground watching your steps.

“You good?” He asks quietly. That part that is wistful and buried deep inside him knows you aren’t, knows your moods now like he’d studied them for a test.

“Nothing you can fix.” You mumble and shoot him a side glance.

“Well I wasn’t asking to fix anything.” Deflecting to save his own hide in the instance this becomes something it shouldn’t.

Your scoff echos in the doorless doorway of the brick building you’ve both walked to. He takes a quick scan of the inside and catches metal bars along the wall in even squares.

“Y’all have dogs?” He raises an eyebrow at you when you walk past him to go in. “I’ve never heard any out here.”

“My mother used to breed Belgian’s.” Your finger thumps dully across the empty kennel doors as you walk down the line of them slowly. He knows your mother is gone but you’ve never brought her up to him. In the before times, that misty timespan where neither of your existed in each others orbits.

He hasn’t told you about his previous life in the desert either. It’s not even a need to know thing, it’s just not something important anymore, but in that other life he’d worked with a few of those dogs. “What kind?”

You turn sharp on your heel when you reach the end of the line, a small smile soft around the edges. “Groenendael’s and Malinois.”

He knows the second one’s mostly. Bundles of dangerous energy when untrained, vicious and precise when held under a strong hand. “Trying to keep people out?”

“Something like that.” That smile turns conspiratorial before it slides right off your face. While you give him your widest range of emotions, typically saved for dark corners, he’s never seen this maudlin shadow cast across your eyes before. “My father used to have guard dogs but after my mother passed he got rid of them.”

“‘Rid of them?’”

You nod and head off around the corner, Gator following close but measured. “Did he kill them?” That would be what your Father would do, at least what Gator would expect of him. Your huff of laughter surprises him though.

“No, too much money. He sold them.” You wave your hand to dismiss the memory. “I miss them, they were good dogs.”

Wistful. He thinks to himself.

It’s quiet in this room, what he assumes was once an office of sorts. A lone rusted filing cabinet and a torn at chair sit in the corner of the otherwise bare room. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes jump around and remember the pocked drywall and the water stained ceiling. He lets you wander out the other doorway that leads to a fenced in patch of land currently covered in untouched snow before he breaks the comfortable silence with an uncomfortable question.

“What’d Roy want?”

A loud sigh that fogs out in front of you. “Oh the usual.”

“Then why’d he need you?” He doesn’t like that Roy has taken a shine to you. More a glare with his distaste so evident but his attention is split to you now too and it makes Gator’s hackles rise.

“You know he isn’t very ‘adept’ with technology.” Your air quotes make him chuckle. “He wanted me to explain something in front of my Father so I wouldn’t lie.” You drop your voice to mimic Roy’s deep gravel before shrugging. “He doesn’t think the world of me yet, don’t you worry your pretty little head over it.”

“My pretty little head?” He takes a few steps towards you to crunch fresh snow under his boots. Your eyes dart across his face and down his body before you start smirking.

“Well, maybe not little.” You close the gap with outstretched hands pulling on his parka. Instincts kick in and he goes for your heavy zipper when you snap at him.

“Fuß!”

A sharp hiss from you that makes his head tick to make sure he heard you right. The look on his face must read for confusion because you giggle lightly and pull him closer.

“That means heel.” Your breath mists between the two of you when you whisper it against his cheek.

“Yeah I know what that means.” Commands he learned in the army from security buddies with their own dogs. He wants to laugh at the comparison here but it’s only in his own head.

“You speak German?”

“Ein bisschen.”

There’s that interest again, that light behind your eyes when he does something you find fascinating. He hates being under inspection but your detailed gaze feels different. He likes when you pay attention to him.

“Do you know…fassen?” Fingers creep up his cheek like the slow spread of his grin and he turns his head quick, snaps his teeth at your wandering fingers to make you jump.

“Aus, Gator!” You grab his face and hold his jaw shut. “Behave.” He’s forced back a step when you kick your foot between his and let your other hand wander to his belt. The nylon slides easily through the buckle, your practiced hand pushing it aside for his button fly.

“Aus.” Said again only this time quieter. He watches you from down his nose and breaths heavy at you in playful defiance. Makes no move to go down even with your hand almost in his pants. You tug downward on his jaw, “Knien.”

He doesn’t know that one but he can sus out the context pretty well. When you leave his waistband alone to ruck up his pullover the cold sting of winter air cuts through his undershirt and helps shut out the rest of the world. He doesn’t move to kneel until you lean in though, lips ghosting over his with a hushed plea.

“Humor me, Gator?”

His knees hit cold ground, wet seeping through the fabric to anchor him. Your grasp softens to tilt his chin up and that piece of himself he’s kept shoved down like a defeated Titian gets purchase for the first time in years. You’re a foil to his rage and chaos with every stroke of your fingertips over stubbled skin. A smile just for him when he follows your direction and the fault inside grows wider until he barely trusts himself to keep his secrets unspoken.

“Bleib.” You take a step back and hold out your hand to placate him. He watches you pull your own zipper down and tug at your own clothes, a nervous energy circling in his chest. That’s his job on a good day and you stand there in the cold with a wisp of a smile. The metal clink of your belt makes his blood rush south while his mouth waters with the need to bite down. When you bend to untie your boots he thinks about rushing you. Pinning you into the snow and making your peals of laughter echo in this stripped out building but he waits, fingers twisting at the pockets on his pants.

Watching you step out of your shoes is worrying but you don’t flinch when you step into snow, eyes boring holes into him. He’s afraid, he’ll admit it to himself out here, that if he catches your gaze he’ll start telling you all manner of stupid things so he keeps his focus on your hands pushing your jeans over your hips and down your thighs until you let them pool on top of your boots.

Just a single step puts you close enough for him to grab, his hand hooking around your thigh the same as your fingers sliding into the hair at the nape of his neck. A firm grip to pull him back and make him finally look at you, your eyes dark and focused.

“Guter Junge.”

His back hits the ground and he grunts when your weight lands on top of him. Hands fall through the new snow beside his head and you hover over him, small clouds of breath evaporating from your open mouth. The heat rolls off you and leaches into him while the cold burns his back where his layers have pushed up. You only get one good roll of your hips before he’s wedging his hand between you to pull your underwear to the side and get ahold of himself to push you down. Almost like a sigh of relief when you sink your hips down flush against him, he’s lost in you now. That calm that settles after your meetings is waiting in the wings and making things quiet for him to focus.

His mouth finds your neck when he pulls you in close, teeth finding the fading mark at the juncture of your shoulder to darken it again. A choked off moan in his ear sets a fire in his belly and he wraps your hair around his fist to hold your head still so he can angle you better.

“Gator-“

He cuts you off with harsh thrust when he gets his feet planted, teeth still dug into your skin when he sets his pace. A long groan from deep in your chest vibrates against his mouth and your hands scrabble for purchase. Cold along his face and in his hair to hold on while he fucks you in the snow. Ice and water get under his collar but you’re warm along the front of him. Breath hot against his ear while you whimper his name, thighs around his hips keeping him insulated from the air.

You mutter curses under your breath while he thinks about you calling him good. Good boy in fact and his cock throbs deep in your heat. If he opened his mouth and let go of you he could ask you to say it again. Say it in German or English or whatever fucking language you wanted. He could whine under you and ask for praise while he rocketed too quickly towards coming.

He feels the drag of your tongue under his ear and his eyes roll, your simplest gestures his favorite things. With his nose buried in your hair he catches a new scent buried under the heat and metal, something soft and floral that drives his curiosity. When he seems to hit just right he can feel you tense above him and he lets go of his own leash to chase his own end.

“You gonna come?” Hushed in his ear it startles him until your hand slides around his neck and gain enough leverage to pull away from his mouth. “Come on Gator.”

The pressure on his throat makes him lightheaded and his pace stutters. The fist in your hair relaxes and he toes the line of oblivion.

“Be good and come for me?” Whispered against his cheek while he tries to nod but your lips graze the corner of his mouth, breath pushed past his lips and he sees black when his eyes slam shut. A groan claws out of his throat that you still hold tight and he grips your thighs to keep you in place while his toes curl painfully in his boots. The cold barely registers in his ringing head, not when you dot the side of his mouth with light kisses that he’s not even sure are real.

You humble him. In the wake of whatever you two have wrought against each other there’s a silence that settles in him. It quiets the rage that simmers just under his skin and the yelling in his head. Unintelligible anger that stems from a spring inside him is stopped whenever you’ve laid hands on him and he feels a creeping uneasiness at the way he craves it. He’d only come along today in the hopes he’d find you. He’d done it in the hopes that you’d let him mark up your neck again and that you’d wrap your fist in his hair and pull until it stung.

“It’s really cold.” He says it into the side of your head still pressed to his shoulder. “You need to put some clothes on.” He doesn’t want to cut the afterglow but he can feel you starting to shiver and he can tell patches of his skin are going numb.

“Afraid your balls are gonna freeze?” Comes mumbled from you before you sit up again and he laughs, still buried inside you.

“Somethin’ like that.” He winces for a number of reasons when you separate, least of which because of the cold. You dust off melting snow and bits of brown grass from your knees before you jump back into your jeans and jam your wet feet into your boots. “Do you need help?”

“Help?”

“Getting back to the house.” It’s the only way he can ask to stay. He won’t ask if you’ll let him help you because he knows you’ll scoff and shove him before disappearing inside. Instead he’ll ask if you want him to walk with you. He stands and gets his pants rebuttoned and tries to tame his hair back down.

“I think I know the way.”

“Fine.” He walks away to hide his bruised ego in the zipping of his own jacket and the readjusting of his belt. It isn’t until he’s back out front that he realizes you haven’t followed him and he can feel the break in this coveted calm of his. Half way to marching back to the truck to wait for Roy in anger when you pop up and tug at his elbow.

“Do you want like a coffee or something?” You ask quietly, your teeth chattering on the last word and he pushes your hands out of the way to finish snapping your coat closed.

“Do you have anything decent?” He can feel you staring again but he’s steadfast in his feigned ignorance while you study him. The pause in the conversation hangs for a moment too long before you sneak your fingers into the crook of his elbow and tug again when you start walking.

“I keep the good stuff in the house.”

#Gator Tillman Fic #Gator Tillman x Reader #Gator Tillman Smut #My Fic #My Work

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plush-rabbit · 11 months

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Dabi W/ Ice Quirk!Reader

Request: Oh boy here goes nothing >.< bear with me, please. I'm a huge sucker for "opposites attract," so what if Dabi met someone with a persistent Ice quirk that's destroying their body (frost bite) the same way Dabi's is, as well as their surroundings? And if Dabi is resistent to ice, rather than fire, what if Dabi was the only person that could resist freezing to death when touching ice person. Bonus points if condensed oxygen helps his quirk burn hotter/faster. I'll take anything, pls and ty!!! Uwu

A/N: this took forever, but like i wanna write again, and i miss it, and lately i’ve been feeling a certain way

Word Count: 1.5K

An ice quirk on the team. Dabi thinks it’s a joke. A cruel one that the universe has just handed to him. He snorts when you tell everyone your quirk and you chose to not comment on it. He’s not the most emotionally stable person in the team, or in general, so he holds a bit of resentment towards you. He’s colder with you- one worded answers, grunts and hums in responses to your questions. You haven’t done anything wrong, but it’s your damn quirk that has him sneering at you. Where his quirk is cremation, yours is frostbite.

Maybe Shigaraki likes to piss him off, or there was a good reason to pair you and him together, but no matter, he listens because it is the means to his goal. He keeps his head down and goes on a mission with you. It’s supposed to be simple, receive something and drop it off at another location, but heroes have followed and now they’re chasing you and him down the street. It’s the first time that he actually sees your quirk in action. You’re quick on your feet, using the ice to help you “skate” around, ice that juts up from the ground in unforgiving spikes, a snowstorm concealing the both of you enough to make a grand escape. If he weren’t so jaded, he might have actually found it nice.

However, when you two are finally able to hide away- the drop-off location date changed due to the heroes intervening- he takes a good look at you. You’re huffing and puffing, your breaths coming out in clouds of smoke. Your nose and face are flushed and the psalm of your hands are turning into a harsh blue. Ice is stuck to your skin, and you’re slowly bending and unbending your fingers. You of course can feel him staring, and while he isn’t polite enough to ask, he just won’t ask unless it interests him. Yet, you want to fill the silence so you tell him about your quirk.

Your body wasn’t meant for this quirk. In reality, this quirk hadn’t been seen in your family for a few generations- enough to know that your cousins and aunts and uncles hadn’t had this quirk. It was a surprise when you started to make ice- not snow as some would have liked- but ice. You talked about how you made jagged statues of ice when your emotions were too much, how your skin would harden and it would take ages just for it to return to normal. How because it was a quirk thought to have died out in the family, your body wasn’t made for it. The worst of it was that your quirk was powerful, but your body wasn’t, and he tears his gaze away from you when you say that. It really is a cruel joke from the universe that he met you.

For whatever reason, he starts to treat you just a little better. He sits next to you, and gives you at least more than one word in most conversations. It’s scraps, but you take it eagerly. Due to that, you both get paired on missions together. He thinks it’s another joke from Shigaraki and the others, but you seem happy enough with it, so he doesn’t make as many remarks about it. He won’t admit it, but he prefers to have you fight with him, if only because when you activate your quirk, the cool temperature not only soothes his skin, but makes his fire burn longer and hotter. And while he hasn’t made any comment about it, he sees how you stick close to his fire, watching the ice melt off your skin and keep the blue softer than before. It’s a beneficial teamup. That’s all it is.

Of course, you can’t just have the exact opposite of his quirk- you have to be the exact opposite from him. Polite, and kind. Caring and soft. It comes in all types of forms, from giving him the parts of the meal you don’t like, to sitting next to him and having ice form around you, wilting the plants and expanding into the cracks of the concrete, just for him to cool off. You’ve become observant of him, and you watch as his own usage of his quirk makes him feverish, almost sickly. It comes in a wave at night, as he’s laying in bed, panting and head splitting open, and he thinks he’s going to die, to have his insides turn into mush and leak out of him, until the door creaks open.

You walk in and sit beside him, cooing his name softly, and pressing your hand against his forehead. You tell him that he’s burning- that you think he really is going to melt the bed and the home that you and the League have been living in for the past few weeks. You stay with him through the night, pressing your hand against his forehead, trialing it down over to his neck where you think you see steam slip between your fingertips, and lifting to hover over his chest. Through the night, you repeat the motions, and he’s in and out of consciousness, lulled back to sleep when you shush him gently and make him just a bit colder. You can’t stay awake all through the night and inevitably pass out with your hands on his chest, your quirk still cooling him. He wakes up angry, snarling and pushing you against the wall, and you have to explain between gasps of air that you were trying to help. You’re sorry, and there are tears in your eyes. You’re trying to pry his hands off of you, nails pinching into his skin and when he sees how your hands are covered in a thick blue hue, almost as if you were wearing gloves, does he finally let go. You’re crying as you apologize, and he hates how he’s standing over you, so he squats down and tells you that he didn’t mean to be so rough. It’s not an apology, but it’s something close to one.

Guilt doesn’t eat at him, but it makes looking at you arduous. So, at night, he walks into your room. He wakes you up with a shake and you don’t attack him as he did to you, so maybe that doesn’t mean that you’re all that upset. But when you speak, you’re careful to keep your hands twisted over the covers and pressed under your shirt. He offers a solution. He hates to be indebted to others, so he offers to take your hands and warm them up. You think it’s a trick, and he makes the comment that you’d be useless if you got frostbite. It doesn’t take much for you to give him your hands, and he sits beside you after constant urging. He holds your hands and makes a soft warmth emit from his own, and a part of him aches, but you hum, and watch him through your lashes, and his body is on fire under your gaze. You sleep soundly, and he stays awake watching you and holding your hands.

There’s no way to quite tell when it was that he started to warm up to you- when he became just a bit softer around you, when he actually wanted you to talk to him, but it happened. He likes being around you. He teases you lightly, nothing too harsh, and he listens to you ramble about why you had to be a villain, or why it seemed like the only choice despite coming from a decent family. When it’s just the two of you, sometimes fluffs of snow start to creep from where you sit, fragile ice covers the sides of the building in a thin layer with an intricate design webbed into them. It might be the first time in a long time when he thinks that ice isn’t so bad. And when the ice creeps and cracks against your face when you smile, there’s a faraway thought that you’re pretty when you smile.

Whether the others have noticed your nightly excursions to his room, they haven’t said a thing. He, however, has said many things, but he still leaves his door unlocked for you, and a crack open for you to push in. Slowly, your quirk has been consuming your body, and it’s made it difficult to open things without needing aid. And every night without fail, you come into his room. You help cool him down, and he holds your hands in his, claiming that there is no other for you to take his warmth. A part of you has started to suspect that he likes holding hands, but you don’t dare risk that gamble. He keeps you beside him, sleeping next to you with your hands still in his, and he wakes up before you, telling you that you kick around in your sleep. And every morning, before you wake, Dabi bends your fingers for you, making sure with every move, that you haven’t woken up. He’d deny it even if you were to catch him in the act.

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deoll · 9 months

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hiii dolls <33 i think it’s my first actual draft that made it as a post in a long time so enjoy!! self-insert, gn friendly!

Scaramouche x Reader || One Bed Trope

"I'm fucking sick of this. No you listen to me, do you know who I am?'' he throws his fists against the wood. What a rowdy guy, if he keeps this up I might be the one who'll get fucking sick of this fiasco.

"I'm sorry sir, most of our rooms are unfortunately taken and our staff is overworked due to this blizzard. Could you be a little patient until we check to see what we could offer you and your colleagues?" the woman at the front desk appeared to be distressed, managing a phone at her ear with her shoulder, trying to write some notes down at the same time. Scaramouche is not having it. If it were any other day perhaps I wouldn't be this easily irritated, but unfortunately my cheeks are scarred by the cold wispy wind, I can't feel any of my fingers due to frostbite, I haven't eaten anything, tired as hell and most importantly in a need of a shower. He's not helping my condition in the slightest, not that he ever did. Not that I would want him to, but that doesn't mean that I want him to worsen it.

"..Do you even know who you're talking to? I don't care how you manage your goddamn hotel, you must have 4 rooms for Tsaritsa's Harbingers. What kind of pathetic unorganized team do you even have here that a snow storm is all it takes for this whole place to-" (Y/N) puts their hand on his shoulder, making him stop mid sentence. "I'm sorry for my partner here he's just tired, please do what you must." I pulled him back and talked with the polite lady in front of me. Unfortunately, Scaramouche did not appreciate that. I could feel him fuming behind my back, his eyes could cut if i were to turn and look at him. Fortunately I don't, trying to contain an upcoming chuckle at how ridiculous he looks right now. Insufferable fucker.

"Now now comrade-" Tartaglia tries to put his palm on his hat and almost instantly having it waved off by him. "that's no way of treating a woman! Did nobody teach you that as a kid?" he gleefully laughed, as he usually does in his off work moments. What a guy...will anyone ever understand him? He goes from idiotic happy go lucky guy to a minimal quiet death sword in such a short amount of time. Matter of fact, we're coming down from a mission where he mercilessly tortured five millelith guards for intel on the latest operations managed by the Liyue Qixing. Who knows what goes on through his head while he chooses what to say or do. He might be smarter than anyone in our team if he's acting this way deliberately. Maybe he learned this is the safest way to operate within the Harbingers. Fake.

"You're being childish again Balladeer.." Arlecchino side eyed him, tired of his shit as usual rightfully so. Her elegant form always stuns me. She, like Childe. hides her true thoughts so well that all you can see is a put together act constantly. "Yeah? Let me be childish then, at least i'll have somewhere to sleep tonight, you can stay in the lobby for all I care." Scaramouche turns, ready to get into yet another argument. "Will you stop? We're all tired and your attitude is only agitating us further-" I turn to face him, ready to snap when the lady so kindly cuts me off this time.

"We have 3 rooms available for you, please make your way to room 47, 48 and 51 on the 2nd floor" I heard that and I almost ran to the elevator without another word, without actually letting the information settle in and comprehending it. Everyone turned to look at each other. "Lady I don't know if you're blind or those badly cut bangs are in your eyes but as you can clearly see there's 4 of us." Scaramouche storms to the front desk once again. The young woman looks at him with a sour face, done with his shenanigans. "That's all we can manage at this time, what else would you want from me?" He snarls at her. "Well if you found 3 then you can find another one you-"

"ENOUGH." I pulled him by his sleeve. "Thank you ma'am. We'll manage, have a good one!" I took the keys from the counter and dragged Scaramouche all the way to the elevator, the rest tagging along.

".....Can we do rock paper scissors for each room?"...Childe. "No." I'm glad we all agreed at least on that.

"..." The elevator reaches the 2nd floor. We get out, look at each other and unbeknownst to the rest of us, Arlecchino walks away towards room 48 with a key in her hand. "See you all tomorrow." I look baffled in my hand to notice a 3rd pair of keys missing! When did she even..

"....Can we do rock paper scissors now ?" "..No" I'm glad he agreed. "There's no need for that, I think you and Scaramouche should team up for tonight" I said, crossing my arms against my chest. "What?! Why would you throw me under the bus with him ?" Scara snapped at me, offended at the idea of spending the night with his friendly comrade.

"Hey now you're breaking my heart haha...what does that mean haha.." Scaramouche turns to him, "You snore, you stink, you're taking all the bed to yourself, never flush the toilet, eat all my food, get ridiculously drunk before you go to bed, uncomfortably touchy in your sleep-" "OKAY comrade. We get the point now." Tartaglia reaches out and takes a key out of my hold, winking at us."Ohhh I get how it is, okaay alright then haha~ I'll let you two have your moment for tonight" He smiles and walks away mumbling "..I'm not even that loud when I snore.."

"..." The only thing we can hear is the wind whistling forcefully through the windows along with Childe's rapid pace towards room 47. My hand is still around his sleeve, I could've let go a long time ago but I didn't. I figured it would be uncomfortable letting go now so the only rational thing to do is to go along with it. And so I drag him to...our room, for tonight.

"What are you doing? Are you really just letting him get away with it? Aren't you gonna put up a fight for the room?"

"Well, why aren't you? I'm fine with it, I don't care that much. I just want to eat, shower and go to sleep." His eyes widened for a bit and next thing that I knew, he pulls his hand back. "I never said I want to bunk up with you." "...You're right, you didn't. And to that I say, you sadly don't have a choice...so you either bunk up with me or you can go sleep in the lobby next to your dear front desk lady." He's frowning at me now, distaste all over his face. With that being said, he takes the keys from my hand and starts walking towards room 51, leaving me behind. I rush to his side trying to keep up in fear he would lock me out, which would be completely in his character. I definitely wouldn't call us friends, we bicker more than we bond. Not that I wouldn't want to bond with him, he's simply unapproachable, and I genuinely think that's how he wants to be. He's doing it on purpose. It's not like I never tried to get him, but you can't crack open someone who doesn't want to be cracked and vulnerable. Reason why I sit back and watch him be an angry insufferable jerk.

Sometimes I wonder what goes through his mind as well, what made him act like this, respond to life this way. I wouldn't mind if he let me in for once, if he let me listen. I wonder when was the last time someone listened to him, when was the last time he felt heard.

"Why would I want to sleep next to a bitch with a bad bob" I laughed at his comment, "You're ruthless. Poor girl...you went all in on her bangs too you criminal." He snarled, "She should've had that coming, how do you leave your house with your bangs looking like that" opening the door for us, we entered and I immediately felt my shoulders relax, letting the comforting aroma of clean laundry fill me in. Without any words I plop down onto our bed. "Get down loser, you're stinking my bed." I chuckle, "That's the point jerk, so you'd sleep on the floor." moving my hands up and down taking as much space as possible, smiling. It feels kind of...peaceful. These back and forths with him, they feel so natural. "I'll go ahead and bring our stuff in here, do you want something to eat?" I rise up on an instant, my stomach making an unpleasant sound. Would he bring me something? He cares enough to ask? "Actually I'm really really hungry right no-" the door closes. Did he just?...no. No, he's evil but not this vile. I take back everything I just said about feeling peaceful. With a huff I get out of bed and rush to the bathroom, there's no reason to waste any more time so I'll just take a shower.

With that being said, I undress and fix the water just right letting it run down my body after such a long tiresome day. It's always nice how hotels give you everything you may need for a bath, except for clothes. I realized as I'm now out of the shower that I don't have anything clean to wear. Just in cue, I hear the front door opening and closing once more. "(Y/N)? Are you in the bathroom?" No...Oh Archons not like this.. "Yeah...Did you bring my stuff as well?" He laughs, "Your stuff? Why would I bring YOUR luggage." He's got to be kidding me. I roll up a towel around my form and furiously get out of the bathroom. There he stands, laughing in my face with both of our luggage and what looks like some take out? Standing in the middle of the room looking dumbfounded, I ask him "You also bought...food?" He looks at me like I said something stupid, "Well yeah, I'm hungry." That's when it clicked. Yeah right he is...a puppet with no need of food, being hungry. I smiled at him softly without another word and looked through my stuff to get dressed. "I finished showering, the bathroom is all yours if you need it." Scaramouche was confused but let it go this time "Will go shower too then" And so he did.

While he was busy showering I prepped the whole room, unpacked everything including our meal. He quietly opens the door and for a moment just stays in the doorway looking at me puffing the pillows. What a silly girl he thinks. Putting in so much effort, he feels something fill in the void inside of him. It's...nice, warm, peaceful

"..Do you wanna go to sleep?" He looks at me, nodding. Looking at him now, he's acting strange. Almost sad but at peace, quiet, tranquil melancholy. Must've hit a nerve without wanting to. He looks in need of comfort but I feel hopeless, I brought him back something he hadn't thought in a long time...I triggered him. He gets in bed while I turn the lights off, suddenly it hits me. I realize it in that moment how intimate this feels. How raw, how vulnerable. I climb up in bed on his opposite side. The bed itself is not tiny but I guess due to the snowstorm outside we're laying pretty close to one another, our backs touching.

It's quiet, as tired as I was before proved to be useless now that I'm standing next to Scaramouche, so many unspoken words kept me wide awake. And then it happened. He broke the silence "I once convinced myself that humanity doesn't deserve kindness. I had a lot of trial and errors and every one of them proved that they're all doomed by their own selfish needs anyway. Humans don't deserve care. And still I find myself contradicting that in my mind." His voice is calm, relaxed and yet so sad. So simple yet it hides details that I may never learn. On impulse I turned around and hugged his back gently. He tensed up but just as quickly relaxed entirely in my arms. "It takes a lot of courage to try again, to trust again. To want to care, even if you know there's a chance it won't be fruitful. It means that at core, you want to give and help unconditionally. It means there's a lot of love within you Scara, including for humanity. That's powerful." For a second I feel him shaking in my arms and with that, I felt my heart breaking. He turned around facing me, "I feel like I want to care for you" I opened my arms, smiling at him "Then do so. Allow yourself to feel that way!" and so he does, he allows himself to be held. Not too long after, I feel him holding me instead, playing with my hair almost enchanted by my figure. His fingers are gentle, his palms are cold and yet I've never felt a warmer hold in my life. "You're not on your own anymore. I already care for you in ways you don't even know. You're being cared for." I feel his arms tightening around me. "..I won't ever forget this, do you know that? These exact same words may as well haunt me one day." I look up at him, "Or bless you. The risk for vulnerability is high, but the reward is always worth it. Don't cage yourself in fear Scara. Live." I felt his head fall on top of mine. He fell asleep while I was talking! This guy...and just like that, the big ruthless Balladeer fell asleep in my hair.

#scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x you #reverse comfort #one bed trope #kinda enemies??

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userdogmeat · 7 months

Text

Keeping Warm

@falloutober - 15

Keeping Warm

It had rained for nearly four days straight before it had finally snowed and while Lone had been accustomed to the rain - a common occurrence in a coastal region - she had not been ready for snow. How could she have been? From what she’d read about the Capital Wasteland, snow had been fairly uncommon even before the bombs dropped. And what Lone could tell you, holed up in a shabby cabin with nothing but her moth-eaten blanket and her dimwit, jaw-grinding former neighbor and current companion, that she hated the snow. Almost as much as she hated Butch right now.

“This sucks.”

“Yep.”

“I mean, this really sucks.”

“I know, Butch.”

It had to be obvious, just how irritated she had been with him but he hadn’t seemed to notice nor care. Instead, Butch had just complained and complained and complained. It was cold. It was wet. His fingers were frozen. His hair was ruined. Blah. Blah. Blah. And when he’d run out of complaints, all he did was start over again, whining and moaning about just how much he hated the cold.

Lone hated the cold, too. But you didn’t hear her complaining about it, not that Butch would’ve given her the time to do so. His annoying voice filled the empty space with wasted breath that hadn’t been hot enough to heat it.

“Why’s it gotta be so cold?”

“It’s February, Butch. It’s going to be cold in February.”

“Not this cold!”

Irritation made Lone’s eye twitch as she stared at him blankly, “I don’t know what to tell you, Butch. It’s cold, maybe you should listen to me next time and bring your gloves.”

“But my gloves make my palms sweaty.”

Lone stared at the gray blanket sitting in her lap, worn and stained from its use in the Capital Wasteland and thought of twisting it. If wrung tightly enough, she had thought, it would’ve made a decent noose that she could’ve used to kill Butch with or maybe herself, were she so desperate enough.

“Again, Butch, I really don’t know what to tell you.”

“Ugh.”

Ugh was right. And unfortunately, Butch was right about pretty everything. This sucked. And yeah, sure - Butch being a petulant brat hadn’t been making the situation any better, but it really was the cold that had sucked the most.

“I feel like I’m ‘boutta freeze to death in here, y’know? ’m gonna get that frostbite or whatever, and my toes are gonna fall off.”

“Don’t be such a baby, Butch.”

“A baby!” He gasped, “I don’t know who you callin’ a baby when you’ve been totin’ around that rag of yours since we were in diapers.”

“It is not a rag.”

It was hard to not be defensive of her blanket. Lone loved her blanket. It kept her safe, secure and sure, it hadn’t done the best job of keeping the heat in since she was ten, but it was her blanket.

“It is too a rag, that thing’s thinner than paper and there’s more holes in that thing than I can count.”

“Well, Butch - last I recalled, counting really wasn’t your strong suit, was it?”

“Touchy.”

Lone couldn’t help but smirk at the purse of Butch’s lips, his huff audible as he pulled the sides of his jacket closer to himself in another attempt to keep himself warm. Stupid bastard, Lone had thought as she stared at her woefully unprepared companion. How had he not listened to her? Butch had left his hat and gloves in Megaton, refused to pack an additional sweater despite Lone telling him to, and had accidentally left his own blanket and sleeping bag in the last place they’d stayed at miles ago. It was no wonder the man was freezing.

“Here,” she huffed as she pulled the blanket from her lap, offering it to him, “I think you need this more than me.”

“I don’t want your stupid - ,”

“Take it, Butch, before I change my mind.”

The way Butch had reached for her blanket so hesitantly had almost been enough for her to change her mind but Lone had allowed it. He was proud - the proudest person she’d ever met, but he was freezing, too and despite how much she liked the idea of him being dead as a doornail and out of her hair, Lone couldn’t bear the idea of losing him either. Especially not like this.

“Thank you.” He had mumbled as he curled into the blanket that he’d tossed over his shoulders.

“Just don’t lose it, alright?”

“I won’t, I promise.”

It had seemed to do enough for Butch to shut up for a while, sniffing occasionally from the runny nose he’d developed. But Lone could see the way that he was shaking, the way the tip of his nose had turned a dark red from the frostnip, the way his teeth chattered as the muscles in his jaw tried to keep warm. He looked miserable - more miserable than she currently was and Lone couldn’t help but sigh.

“Come here.”

“What?”

Lone felt herself warm slightly at her sudden proposition to him, “I said, come here. You’re going to freeze to death if we don’t start sharing some body heat.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Butch had scooted towards her until his shoulders were flush with hers, his arm raising so that he could wrap the blanket around her but pausing as Lone held her hand up to stop him.

“Wait, you - we - uh, we’ve got to um…,” Lone had swallowed, her eyes trailing down his body before drawing back up to look at him and his stupid and unfortunately, devastatingly handsome, but confused face, “strip first.”

If there had ever been a moment that Lone had been grateful for the cold - it was right now because had there been no cold and no frost-nipped rosie skin, Butch would’ve been able to see the blush that had crept past her cheeks and up to her ears.

“We’ve got to what?”

“Strip,” she repeated, “we’ve got to share our body heat, not just some flimsy blanket.”

Butch’s mouth opened and shut a few times, the gears in his head turning in that weird, clunky way they always had when Lone had to offer a compromising solution for a problem that required sharing and touching. It was the same dumb face he’d made when they’d been forced to share that twin bed just a few weeks ago.

“Oh - uh, alright. But do we have to - um, like…”

“...Take our underwear off?”

Butch nodded meekly, his Adam’s apple bobbing with a hard swallow.

“I don’t know, I think so?” Lone mumbled, “I’ve never had to do this before but from what I’ve read and heard, this is the only way I can help prevent you from freezing to death.”

Butch didn’t object to Lone's explanation, there was no way that he could’ve not with his ass on the line but he still hesitated, instead choosing to wait for Lone to strip first.

Lone had started with her boots, unlacing them quickly - all thanks to the gloves that she had remembered to bring - as Butch struggled alongside her, his fingers stiff from the cold.

“Here,” she offered, reaching down and replacing his hand with her own, “let me help you.”

He watched quietly as Lone helped him remove his boots, her hand slipping underneath the heel and around his ankle before tugging gently and placing them next to him.

“Stand up.”

Butch took Lone’s offered hand, allowing her to pull him up until they were standing only a few inches from one another. Wordlessly, the two began to strip, peeling off their jackets and unzipping their vault suits until their under layers were exposed. And slowly, but surely - with their eyes glued to one another, Lone and Butch stepped out of their vault suits, pools of gore-tex lined blue leather dropping next to the rest of their abandoned clothes until they were in nothing but their underclothes.

Lone could see the way the cold was getting to Butch as he pulled his undershirt up and over his head, the muscles in his stomach flushed and taught as they contracted from the sudden exposure to the chilled air.

A huff of fogged breath blew from Butch’s mouth as he chuckled, “Fuck, I’m so much colder now.”

“Me, too.”

He smiled at her, the same dopey smile he’d been doing as of late whenever they were normal - or whatever this was - with one another and Lone couldn’t help but smile back. It was awkward and strange but somehow, the concept of being stark naked with her former bully turned companion (if that’s what you could call it) was also, somehow just another one of those days at this point. They’d already been through so much together, how bad could pressing her naked body against his naked body really be?

“Well…” she had started, “I guess we better…”

“...Yeah… I guess so.”

And with another awkward but swift movement, Lone and Butch removed their last article of clothing - their underwear - and made themselves completely bare to one another.

Butch quickly concealed himself with a cup of his hands as Lone quickly began to move, not that she had cared to look anyways - it had just been too cold. And besides, Lone was just as naked as he was, she knew that any pointed fingers at his shrinkage would be returned with a nasty comment about her own nudeness. Instead, Lone focused on the makeshift bedding that she had to quickly create before the encroaching freeze on her fingers made them too stiff to move.

“We’ll share my sleeping bag,” she said, as she moved to sit on her knees - her fingers fumbling as she tried to unclip the single-person sleeping from her pack, “it’ll be a tight squeeze but with this and the blanket, it should be enough to keep us warm.”

Lone could see the way that Butch’s shaking was becoming more severe, he’d been freezing for far longer than she had and now that he was nude, he was only getting worse. So she moved as fast as she could, throwing down the sleeping roll and unzipping it quickly.

“Lay down.”

Butch moved as quickly as he could, settling on the now open sleeping bag with a low groan and she quickly followed suit. Lone hadn’t been wrong about the tight squeeze as she pulled the blanket-part over her and began to zip with each tug, she felt herself pressed closer and closer to Butch’s chill body until it was finally pulled all of the way up to their chins and they were pressed firmly together.

“Come here,” she whispered, as she rolled over to face him, “press your chest against mine.”

Butch shivered against her as the flat of her palm rubbed small, soothing circles against his back and he wiggled one of his arms around her neck and the other wrapped tightly around her back. The two of them tucked their legs into one another, each other’s knee resting over the other until they were fully intertwined, the heat of their groins providing a small warmth against one another’s skin. And they laid like this for as long as they could, holding one another as they tried to keep warm. And it honestly wasn't so bad, Lone had thought, his body pressed against hers. It was strange but intimate, and almost comforting the way their bodies fit so perfectly against one another.

“Are you starting to feel any better?”

Butch nodded quietly. He was starting to warm up, Lone could feel it. Thank goodness.

“Do you want me to roll over,” she asked, “or maybe you and I spoon you?”

Butch shook his head, his nose burying into the top of her head and deep into her hair. “I’m fine like this,” he mumbled.

Lone smiled into his chest as she felt it begin to rise slower and more steadier, a sign that his muscles were finally starting to relax, allowing him to finally fall into much-needed sleep. And Lone took this as a sign for herself, as she pressed herself tighter against him with shut eyes, inhaling his cologne for a final time before drifting off herself into a warm sleep.

#falloutober #this was a lot longer than i had ever expected it to be #butch deloria #fallout 3 #fallout fanfiction #butch deloria x lone wanderer #kind of want to add onto this and maybe make this pwp? because this is really truly one of my FAVORITE tropes ever #userdogmeat creates

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bloodredfeathers · 1 year

Text

Hands

What I think the boys hands are like (in a non sexual way stfu)

Characters: Jamil Viper, Idia Shroud, Jack Howl, Trey Clover

A/N: My first fanfic/hc work that I wanna post because I've been tempted to start but idk I've just been hesitant, please enjoy and send requests if you want! Also the drabble parts kinda get longer with each character I'm sorry I couldn't control it lol 🧡

Gender neutral reader, established relationship in Jack and Trey's parts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jamil Viper

Soft hands

Very gentle

Long and slim fingers

His hands have a very comfortable warmth to them, even in winter

They never get sweaty. Like...absolutely never. It's almost weird

"Jamillllll!" Yuu whined. "My hands are cold!"

"Well I told you to bring gloves," Jamil sighed. Yuu never listened, insisting that they'd be fine because "the cold never bothered them anyway!"

Yeah no, it was mid winter, and incredibly cold.

"Please! At this rate I'll get hypothermia! Or frostbite!"

Jamil rolled his eyes, taking his hands out of his pockets and encasing Yuu's hands in his own.

"There, is that better?" Jamil asked.

Yuu nodded, feeling very happy with this outcome. You see, they weren't exactly THAT cold, they just wanted an excuse to hold his hand.

Idia Shroud

Bros got cold hands lol

But it's like that comfortable cold if ykwim

His fingers are also long and thin

And he has that skin whiter than Casper The Ghost so you can see a lot of his veins

Since he's a gamer boy too, his hands tend to be a little shaky when not occupied

I just wanna hold his hand tbh I love him

Idia jumped in surprise when his bedroom door suddenly (and loudly) slammed open and in stomped Yuu, red faced and slightly sweating.

"Um..." Idia hesitated. "Are...you okay?"

"No! I am not okay!" Yuu growled in a frustrated manner. "It's hot as balls out there and Coach Vargas had us run a mile before making us play a horribly intense round of capture the flag! And of course I just HAD to be the one to go against Jack who's naturally good at everything workout related!"

"Woah, bummer," Idia had no idea how else to respond, Yuu had already been panting and sweaty when they entered his room, but now after their vent, it seemed like they could hardly breathe.

"And now I have a horrible headache and feel like I'm going to die of heat stroke!" Yuu sat on Idia's bed, looking dejected.

Idia stood from his gaming chair and grabbed a soft cloth before sitting beside Yuu.

"Idia, what are you doing?" Yuu asked a slightly red faced Idia.

"I uh..." Idia paused. "Just...just be quiet and put your head down!"

Yuu did just that, and Idia used the cloth to wipe the sweat off of the back of Yuu's neck. He then placed his hands there, feeling just how hot it was.

"Great sevens your hands are cold!" Yuu exclaimed. "But that does feel nice..."

Idia smiled, glad he was doing something right.

(Sorry that was really long I've had Idia brainrot for like two weeks-)

Jack Howl

Big hands big hands big hands-

Another man with warm hands

Sort of rough and callused to the touch

But he knows he's strong so he tries to be gentle

Still very pretty hands, like Hozier's but with thicker fingers

My dirty thoughts are taking over JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL-

"JACK!" Yuu yelled before pouncing on Jack's back, clinging like a koala. He dropped the ball he was holding to quickly secure his hands around Yuu's legs to keep them in place.

"Hey Yuu, what brings you here?" Jack crouched, and Yuu dropped to the ground.

"Nothing really," Yuu said, smiling. "It's just a really nice day so I figured you'd be out here!"

Jack's ear twitched before his tail began wagging subtly. Of course Yuu knew that, with the warmth of the sun and the cool breeze, Jack would take the advantage to be outside.

"Ah yeah," Jack said, unsure of exactly what to say. "I just thought I'd do some outdoor training while the weather's nice."

Yuu smiled and picked up the ball Jack was holding before.

"I never knew you liked rugby!" They said in wonder. Jack's ears flattened slightly in embarrassment.

"I'm not really into football," he said. "But I do like rugby. I find it fun."

Jack reached out to take the ball from Yuu, his hands brushing over theirs. He tucked the ball under his left arm as Yuu grabbed his right hand.

"You have nice hands..." Yuu said as they inspected Jack's hand, playing with his fingers and running their own over the back of his hand. Jack's ears flattened to the sides even more and he felt his face heat up, but his breaking point was when they raised his hand a bit and placed a gentle kiss on it.

He couldn't focus on anything after they said goodbye and left. He just sat in the cool grass, looking at his hand, still blushing at the thought of their lips on it.

Yuu broke him. It's his first relationship cut him some slack!

Trey Clover

He also has long slender hands and fingers

And his can range between being warm and being cold

Usually though his fingertips are cold but his palms are warm

His hands are always clean, a habit he picked up because of baking is constant hand washing

It's obviously not a bad thing, I'm just saying he's always washing his hands out of habit

Trey whistled a cheery tune as he mixed the egg whites and the sugar for his meringue. Once the desired stiff peaks formed, he retrieved the ice cream and cake layers from the freezer, finally coating the treat in the meringue.

Yuu walked into the kitchen, sighing happily at the scent of the sweet treats their beloved was making. They wrapped their arms around Trey, hugging him from behind and leaning into his back, enjoying the comforting warmth.

"Whatcha makin?" They said lazily. Trey smiled.

"Baked Alaska," he said. "I've never made it before, but it seems to be going well! I'm almost done, I just need to torch the meringue."

Trey grabbed the crème brulee torch he had on the side and lit the baked Alaska, watching it be consumed in gentle orange and blue flames.

Soon enough, they extinguished themselves and the meringue had a beautiful, crispy golden brown shell.

"Wanna try some?" Trey asked, and Yuu nodded excitedly, watching as he carefully sliced the baked Alaska and offered them a spoonful of the treat. They gladly accepted it, and it was absolutely delicious. Trey chuckled quietly and used his thumb to wipe a bit of ice cream off of the corner of Yuu's mouth.

His hands were gentle, and Yuu couldn't stop watching everything they did. He moved gracefully, but his hands especially so. As he washed his hands, grabbed something to cover the rest of the dessert, placed it in the fridge, cleaned up his workspace, all Yuu could do was watch how his hands worked.

"You're staring," Trey observed, not looking up from where he was wiping the counter. "Is something up?"

"Nah," Yuu said. "You just have really pretty hands."

Trey stopped working and looked at Yuu, then at his hands, and back to Yuu.

"You really think so?"

Yuu nodded, placing a hand atop his, running their thumb along the back of his hand and smiling gently, which in turn, caused Trey to smile as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And we done! Lmk what you thought and if you think I should write more!

💥~Akira~💥

Also bonus for what I mean by Jack's "Hozier Hands"

Hozier has like the prettiest hands I'll cry

#akirawrites #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland #trey clover #jack howl #jamil viper #idia shroud #twst trey #twst jack #twst jamil #twst idia #twst fanfic #drabble #hoziers hands because yes

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chronicbeans · 1 year

Text

The Frostbiter (Original Story)

Oof not a Welcome Home story but this wouldn't leave my head. OwO I hope y'all enjoy anyways.

TW: Descriptions of Severe Frostbite, Mentions of Death

Looking around, I see nothing but snow coating the mountain. I hold my daughter close, her violent shaking telling me just how cold she feels. "It'll be alright, Amanda. We'll find the way down. Don't worry. Daddy will keep you safe. Just hang on." Her dark eyes look up to me, her voice but a soft, whispery quiver "Daddy, your nose is turning black... Dad...?" "Yes, Amanda?" "Are we gonna die?"

I don't want to lie, but I want to keep up hope. The most heartbreaking thought in my mind is seeing my sweet Amanda lose hope. I want to see her smile until the end. "We'll make it down, Amanda. There has to be some way back down the mountain. We hiked up here, after all. The snow has just covered the path. We'll make it down, one way or another." That won't be a lie, right? We can hike down if we figure out which way to go, and even if we don't, someone will come up to retrieve our bodies after this blizzard is over. We aren't too far up for them to do that, right? Amanda weakly nods, her eyes eyes looking around the area "It all looks white... Like a blanket. A cold, cold blanket. I miss my blanket."

I hold her closer, moving on. I can't figure out if I am walking further up the mountain, or if I am going down. I can only pray that it is down. The snow is so heavy, that I cannot see two feet in front of me. As it piles up, it becomes harder to move my legs through it to walk. The weather forecast must've lied. They said there would be sunny skies today. This was supposed to be a fun birthday for my baby girl. She always wanted to hike up the same mountain her mother did ten years ago and do what she couldn't: make it to the summit. Now look at her, bundled up, her skin turning white with frostbite... Just like her mother.

I keep hearing something up ahead that sounds like footsteps. I try to walk faster, shouting "Help! We need help! We can team up to find our way down!" Only for the other person to not respond. I walk faster, shouting louder "Please, I have a child with me! You have to help!"

I struggle onwards, hearing those footsteps. The crunch of the snow with each step I take seems like it is mocking me. It's all around me and my daughter, sucking the life out of us. I'm so cold, even with my multiple layers of coats, scarves, and pants. We both really bundled up for this trip. It all seems like it is in vain.

I can't feel my hands, or my feet, or my lower legs. The sensation ends just underneath my knees and after my wrists. I can't bend my fingers, either. I look down at Amanda, seeing her pale face looking up at me. A few strands of hair poke our from beneath her wool hat, her body curled against me for warmth. "It'll be okay, sweetie. Remember what I told you, okay? Don't take off anything that is meant to keep you warm. Especially if you suddenly feel warm. Let me know if that happens." She nods in responds "Okay dad."

After seemingly hours of agonizing trudging, I can't take it. I am exhausted, the stranger isn't listening, and I feel hopeless. The snow doesn't seem to end. It isn't stopping. It's so cold. I can't go on. I drop into the snow, making sure to turn so I land on my back, with Amanda on top of me. "Amanda... Dad needs a break. You can walk, right?" She gets up, her eyes contrasting the white snow around us, causing me to see every bit of fear in them. "Dad...? Dad, get up!" "I just need a break. Go see if you can get the guy up ahead to talk to you. Please... They can help." She grows, quiet, before looking around, then running after the stranger.

"Help! My daddy needs help! Please, help-!" My eyes, which almost closed from weakness, suddenly shoot open as I hear her scream. I use all of my energy to force myself up. I can't feel anything. I fear to look underneath my mittens, worrying that my fingers might be dead, alongside my feet. That doesn't matter, right now. I need to help my little angel. I trudge further, seeing two silhouettes in the distance.

My little Amanda is backing away from the stranger. They, seemingly, have no winter clothing on; just a white lab coat, dress pants, and what looks to be a watch. I can't see their face, but their hair is short and blonde. The stranger's fingers... they are completely black, before their still living tissue resumes, only to be white from frostbite. They sway slightly, before reaching their hand out to Amanda.

"Get away from her!" They turn their head over to me, causing me to flinch at the horrid sight of their face. Their nose, ears, lips... Even their cheeks by their cheekbones have turned black. The entirety of the skin on their face has turned as pale as the snow around us, as well as the frost that has accumulated on their eyebrows and in their hair. They open their mouth, which seems to have ice growing inside of it, around their teeth. "You are the one the little one was crying about? You look so warm..."

They move, their legs so stiff that their steps are more of a shuffle, towards me. Their voice, smooth and masculine, continues "I am Dr. Pierre Glasgow. I have been up here for years... I am so cold... My bones feel frozen to the marrow. You have to help me..." I back up, feeling uneasy. As much as I know this man's appearance isn't something he can control and that I might look very similar, myself, I can't bring myself to be near him. "What happened to you? My daughter, Amanda, and I were hiking. You look completely unprepared."

Dr. Glasgow reaches out to me, his hands frozen still, as he cries out "My team abandoned me! They told me it would be warm! I am so cold! I am so cold! Get close so you can help me! Close! Help!" I flinch, gently grabbing his wrist to avoid rubbing his dead tissue off, asking "I can help, just tell me what I-" He suddenly lunges, grabbing ahold of my neck with his teeth. The ice inside pierces my skin, causing my daughter to cry out in shock and horror.

Everything suddenly grows colder. Colder than I ever thought possible. I point my hand into the distance, choking out "Amanda, run!" "Dad, I'm so cold! I can't move my legs!" "You have to try!" She shuffles off, just as the man drops me. I watch as he suddenly moves his arms and legs, even his dead fingers, as if he were perfectly fine.

"So warm... warm joints... warm blood in me. Thank you. I guess I should take you someplace safe from the snow. There is a little cabin up ahead. I can keep you there, so you can keep me warm until you grow cold, like me."

I am too weak to do anything as Dr. Glasgow drags me through the snow. I have no words for what this "man" is... it is like a vampire, mixed with snow, or a zombie. I can only describe it as a frostbiter.

#my stories #my characters #my OCs

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bookish-whore · 1 year

Text

Family Traditions

Rhysand x Feyre

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: None that I can think of!

A/N: Hey @high-bi-imgonnacry it's me, your secret santa for the @acotargiftexchange I wrote this fluffy imagining of a solstice gone awry (with baby Nyx) and I hope you like it!! Happy Holidays <3

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Two days.

There were two days until the winter solstice, and it seemed as though all of Velaris was celebrating. There were lights strewn up on all the shops of all different colors, and there were green wreaths wrapped in red ribbon adorning all the streetlights. The soft fall of snow cast the city in an idyllic haze of white, and the streets were quiet, the residents deciding to stay in away from the cold as Feyre made her way to her studio along the rainbow.

She woke in the middle of the night with the perfect gift in mind for Rhys. Last solstice she had gifted him the portrait of herself from the Ouroboros and had told him she was ready to start a family with him. Flash forward a year and they were celebrating their first solstice with Nyx, so much had happened and yet she radiated happiness as she made the trek through the snow.

It was times like this she was reminded of how far she had come, only three years ago she was preparing for a long winter in the little shack her family lived in, if she could even call it that. Her bones frozen from her time in the woods and her mind wandering to what else was out there, what else was in store for her life.

If only she could go back and tell that naïve girl who dreamed of the stars what awaited her. A family, a mate, a crown, a court of dreamers who just like her were creating a better world.

As she approached the back entrance of her studio, she heard the faint sound of wings. She didn’t need to turn to know it was her mate. That busybody.

“I thought I would find you here” Rhys voice purred as he landed behind her pulling her in for a kiss.

Feyre didn’t respond, she quickly entered the studio taking off her jacket, rubbing her hands together to warm them.

“You’re freezing” he noted closing the door behind them, taking in the redness of her nose as she discarded her thick wool scarf on a chair by the window

“I walked” she said collecting canisters of paint and brushes and a fresh canvas from the small storage room.

“Why not fly?” he asked

“I couldn’t sleep” Feyre said

“So you decided to catch frostbite two days before your birthday? Come on, tell me what’s bothering you” he said, opening his arms wide to accommodate her.

“I just want it to be perfect” Feyre admitted moving into his open arms and pressing her head against his chest.

“It will be, it’ll be our brand of perfect” Rhys said pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Its just this year is so special… its Nyx’s first solstice, and Cassian and Nesta’s first one together and we have so much to celebrate but I just feel-” Feyre took a deep breath “I just feel like something is going to go wrong”

“Nothing is going to go wrong. We have been through enough.” Rhys said tracing a finger down the tattoo that connected them to one another, the promise to only leave this world together.

“I just can’t shake this-”

“I’m going to tell you what’s going to happen, and I need you to listen to me” he said taking her hands in his, rubbing comforting circles along her knuckles “We are going to have a wonderful dinner, and a large cake, for you darling of course and we’re going to drink and remember all we have been through this year. Then we’re going to exchange gifts and I’m going to take my son to his first official snowball fight. Nothing bad is going to happen except maybe that you and Cassian get too inebriated to decorate the house again.”

“Okay” Feyre whispered against his chest

“I love you” Rhys said grasping her head between his hands as he looked into her eyes. Feyre could see the absolute truth in them as she leaned in to kiss him.

“I love you too” she said against his lips as they pulled away “Now go away so I can work on your gift”

“Fine, but be back at home for breakfast”

“You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world” Feyre said as he stepped out of the studio. She heard the sound of him taking off and she began sketching the image in her mind.

Once satisfied with her painting, she stuck it in the supply closet to dry and to keep it away from prying eyes. She checked the time and decided to fly home, it would be fastest, considering the sun was beginning to crest over the mountains. Feyre had decided to land on the balcony of her room with Rhys, and as she walked into the room her heart swelled at the sight in front of her. Rhysand was asleep on his stomach, his wings delicately stretched over him and tucked under his wing was Nyx.

“Good morning my sweet boy” she whispered at the small babe who opened his eyes at the sound of his mothers’ voice, letting out a small yawn and stretching his arms to Feyre. She gently scooped him into her arms and made her way downstairs. She would let her mate sleep a little while longer.

Feyre was midway through feeding Nyx his breakfast when Rhys emerged.

“Hello Feyre Darling” he said pressing a kiss to her temple “And good morning to you sweet prince” he said to the boy in her lap. “How was the painting last night” he asked, taking a place next to her, and serving himself.

“It was perfect” Feyre said, her smile beaming “I can’t wait to show you how it turned out”

They finished their breakfast passing Nyx back and forth between them while finalizing the plans for the festivities the following day.

Everything would be absolutely perfect.

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It was her birthday.

Feyre opened her eyes in surprise to find that the room was colder than usual, and that it was quite dark. She looked to the sitting area and took note of the bright orange radiating in the space. The fire was doing little to heat the space and as she looked outside, she understood why.

There was a blizzard, you could hardly see anything amidst the curtain of white and it was so dense that it completely blocked out the sun, the sky was a dark grey and the wind whipped against the shutters causing a few loud knocks against the house every now and again. Feyre couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. They were snowed in.

She rose from bed making her way to the nursery, it was her first destination every morning and since Rhys wasn’t in bed with her, she assumed he would be with the baby. She was right, per usual.

She walked into the room to find Rhys sitting in one of the chairs, cradling Nyx to his bare chest. He was saying something softly to the little one, but Feyre couldn’t quite make it out.

“Good morning my loves” Feyre said

Rhys immediately rose, making his way to his mate in a few short steps “Happy Birthday darling” he purred pressing a kiss to her temple as he seated Nyx into his mother’s waiting arms. Feyre cuddled the boy, peppering his face with kisses.

“And before you freak out about the storm, I already took care of everything” Rhys said into her ear, the gesture alone had Feyre’s heart swelling with emotion. He knew how important it was to her that everything went smoothly and waking up to the storm had her mind swirling with anxiety.

She flashed a smile at her mate “I can’t wait to see what you came up with” she said

Together the three of them made their way downstairs for an elaborate breakfast of all Feyre’s favorite foods, it was one of the most extravagant settings she had seen, and with him she expected nothing less. He had always shown her his affection through acts of service.

Halfway through their decadent breakfast service, Azriel showed up.

Feyre was surprised to see the male, dressed not in his usual fighting leathers. He wore a black t-shirt, that clung nicely to his toned torso and a pair of casual, loose blue plaid linen pants. Before she could make a remark about the clothing, Rhys was standing, clasping her hands in his and leading her away from the table.

“Wait- Rhys whe-” she began to protest

“you’ll see” Rhys said

“But what ab-” she tried to say before Rhys cut her off “you know how much Nyx loves Az and his shadows; he’ll be fine for a while” She simply smiled as her mate led them to their shared room. As they approached, Feyre sent teasing thoughts through the bond, images of them together in the cabin, their bedroom, the dining room, all places he had shown her for hours how much he loved her.

“Unfortunately for you feyre darling, there isn’t enough time before the festivities for me to properly show you my adoration but trust me tonight I will worship the ground you walk on”

Her toes curled at the promise of later.

As they walked into the bedroom, Feyre noticed the box sitting on top of their bed. Rhys simply urged her forward “Open it” he said making his in front of her to watch her reaction.

She delicately untied the ribbon holding the parcel closed and removed the lid, it took her a moment to realize it was clothing in the box. Three small wrapped sets of black satin pajamas lied inside, she thought they looked sleek and refined like the high lord himself. Feyre also noticed that there was intricate silver embroidery on the right side of the chest of each set. One had an R, one an F, and the third an N. She beamed at her mate, smiling broadly at him.

“Rhys, I love them, but- what are these for?” she asked

“for today” he stated

“I thought we had a formal party tonight; this hardly seems like appropriate attire”

“I cancelled the party, on account of the weather”

“But what about your traditions?” Feyre asked

“I think it’s time we make some new ones” he said, and in response she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace, Rhys brought his arms around her torso, simply holding her in place.

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After changing into their matching pajamas, Rhysand and Feyre made their way downstairs to where their family was waiting.

“I had Azriel winnow everyone here, and I was very specific about the dress code” Rhys said as they approached the sitting room.

Her eyes drifted first to Cassian and Nesta, who wore matching red flannel sets, they sat together holding Nyx between them. She couldn’t help but think that they would make great parents when the time was right. Next, she saw Amren and Varian on one of the sofas. Amren seated in his lap and the two of them wore sets of shimmering grey material. It looked silver depending on the lighting in the room and they sat engaged in a conversation with Az, still in his blue attire from earlier.

Mor, always one for good fashion wore a red nightgown that clung to her body perfectly, accentuating all her curves, and over it she wore a red satin robe and across from them sat Elain and Lucien. Feyre was surprised to see her sister considering they had just departed to the Day Court to begin learning the history and traditions of the court they would one day lead, since accepting the bond they both were inseparable and today were wearing a fitting shade of green the both of them beaming as they listened to Mor tell a story about a recent occurrence at Rita’s.

Once feyre and Rhysand were noticed in the doorway the room went silent as everyone rushed over to give their birthday and solstice wishes to the high lady.

Nesta and Elain were first, pulling their sister into a hug with Nyx cooing between them, followed by Mor, Cassian, Az and Lucien. Amren exchanged a glance with Feyre raising her glass to her, which for Amren was as good as a hug.

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They spent the day catching up and reminiscing over previous years.

As the sun went down, they began exchanging their gifts. Feyre had received a number of wonderful items from her family. Nesta had gifted her some books, Mor had gifted her some lingerie, Lucien and Elain wanted to bring her and Rhys to the Day court for a vacation, Az gave her a new bow and quiver, Amren gave her a crown fit for a high lady and Rhysand… he gave her a book of photographs, a look back at their year with Nyx and he had given her the promise of more children when she was ready. It echoed what she had said the previous year and she smiled at the gesture.

It was time for Feyre to exchange her gifts. For Nesta, she had gotten a rare, first edition of her favorite book and for Elain, a book about her seer ability as not much was known about it. For Lucien, she had gotten a tunic; for Cass and Az, she got a set of daggers. Amren, per usual, was given some extravagant jewelry and for her mate…

She had painted him something, with Cass and Az’s help.

She winnowed to her studio to retrieve the painting and as she presented it to him his violet eyes lined with tears. It was a depiction of their family she had painted a long couch with herself, Rhys and Nyx at the center surrounded by their family and behind them she had painted those no longer with them. She painted her father, Rhysand’s mother, and his sister. Thanks to memories from Cassian and Azriel.

He wiped the tears from his eyes at the sight of his mother and sister after all these years and brought her in to a passionate kiss.

You have no idea what this means to me. He said in her mind, not trusting his voice to shake if he spoke the words aloud.

Happy Solstice Rhys. she said back

Once the adults had all exchanged gifts, Nyx was next and was absolutely spoiled. He got an assortment of toys and clothes and jewels to last years. Feyre smiled at the thought that all of these people adored her son as much as she did.

After they had exchanged gifts there was food brought in and an extravagant cake. It was four tiers, each decorated with a memory of each year she had spent solstice. The bottom was decorated to resemble the forest where feyre had killed the wolf those years ago, the second was the spring court where she had spent her first solstice with the fae, the third tier was the night sky dark and cloudless and endless and on the top was a reminder of this year, there was a depiction of a harp, a mask, and a crown, all reminiscent of the power Nesta had given up to save her sister and bring her nephew into the world. Feyre wiped the tear that had fallen from her eye as she stared at the cake a reminder of all she had been through and how happy she was to have found home.

After the cake, Nyx went to sleep for the night and the real party began. There were drinks and games and Cassian who was walking around the room with mistletoe.

“Oh, come on Nes” Cassian teased while holding the tightly wrapped bundle of mistletoe above their heads “Just one kiss”

Nesta simply gave him one of her signature glares and returned to her conversation with Amren.

Without missing a beat, Cassian found his way to Azriel on the couch, dangling the mistletoe over the shadowsingers head and gave him a suggestive nod.

Azriel smiled, swallowing the remaining amber liquid in his glass in one gulp and grasped Cassians head with both of his hands and planted a kiss to his lips “consider that your gift” he says softly with a low chuckle.

The room erupted in laughter, and as Feyre looked around the room, at her family so happy and carefree, at her mate, she looked forward to next solstice and whatever new traditions lie in store for them.

#feyre x rhysand #rhysand x feyre #nyx acotar #nyx archeron #cassian x nesta #elain x lucien #amren x varian #azriel shadowsinger #mor acotar #acotar secret santa 2022

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hollers-and-holmes · 7 months

Note

Alright Holmes, you're up: WIP quotes!

I still have First Sentence Prompts to finish but hey these are already written so. Easier 😂🤦‍♀️

From the survive terrible situations in the wilderness WIP!

A clear night, bitterly cold. Again the horse keeps them alive, though the children weep for the chill, and sleep but a little. The memory of the glorious fire in the cave a torment to them.

Halbarad slips out from beneath their cloaks too many times to count and stands and peers into the blue night beneath a thumbnail moon for the sign of some movement over the snow, to listen for the sound of stealthy feet.

Once in the deepest dark as the moon begins to sail low he returns to the shelter and hears her even before he crawls his way back inside. His eyes adjust. Tinú is huddled near the horse’s haunch, clutching at her toes. She has pulled off her boot in a frantic attempt to rub the blood back into them. He knows too well the deep creeping gnaw of the frostbite. Even setting them against the horse’s hide will not be warmth enough, and so he edges around the others sleeping in their heap and sits beside her, his back against the great destrier’s flank. He can feel the bony stifle and is reminded that they must let the animal forage soon, and take its time in doing it. It has been making do with snatches of dead grass through the snow.

As Tinú sits curled over herself Halbarad reaches and gathers her up and heaves her over to his other side and flings his cloak across her legs and pulls her feet into his lap. He tugs her other boot and his own mittens off and covers both cold feet with tented hands and bends and breathes upon them, and chafes them smartly, and tucks them up beneath his arm to thaw.

After long minutes she whispers in the dark, “I am glad you are with us.”

For this he has no answer, but sits for a moment with her words hanging in his head.

“I am not afraid when you are with us. Like you are not afraid,” she murmurs.

Not afraid? He has not stopped being afraid since he first stood at Beridir’s shoulder and watched their enemies pour screaming over the bluff into their camp.

She coughs for a moment, bowed over her forearm, the rattle of it traveling right down into his palms. Then says, sleepily, her dark head lolling against the paler side of the stallion, “How are your hands always so warm?”

He pats the mitten that lies upon her knee and whispers back, “I keep little dragons in here, up where my fingers go.”

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bitter-pyre · 1 year

Text

lay your head to rest // in the snowbank with me

Finally finished Part One of a thread fic I have on twitter. I thought I'd share it here as well!

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BKDK | Winter!AU | Pining Bakugo | Part One

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

At first, Katsuki didn’t hear the shouting. To him, it sounded just like the howling blizzard that raged outside. It wasn't until the wolf let out a low growl that he finally stopped to listen. Another shout. It was more distinct this time. Someone calling out a name. The wolf, neck and tail fully fluffed, let out a sharp bark. "Quiet-" Katsuki snapped. He moved to the window by the cabin door, peering out into the darkness. He couldn't see much, except for dancing snow and the faint silhouette of trees. The wolf's nails clicked frantically on the wooden floor. Another bark. This time, more urgent. "Fuck, okay-" Katsuki opened the door and the wolf bounded into the blast of sharp cold air.

He watched as his companion disappeared, frantically barking at whatever lurked in the trees. 'Maybe dinner,' Katsuki thought to himself, stepping out onto the porch. The bit of snow that had drifted up crunched beneath his boots. He squinted, the cold already starting to freeze his nose hairs. It was quiet for a moment before he heard more barking and a figure appeared in the white haze, paired with his wolf. Katsuki frowned. He reached for the hunter's knife at his hip.

Only an idiot or trouble would be out in a storm like this.

"I can't play right now!" Katsuki recognized the panicked voice before he could make out the face. He clicked his tongue, storming out to meet the wolf and his captured prey.

"What the hell are you doing out here, Deku?"

“Kacchan! M-my ram!” His childhood friend’s face was stained with frozen tear tracks—cheeks, nose, and lips a startling bright red. “I-I found the g-gate open! He w-wasn’t in the barn—the storm-” Izuku rambled, turning his attention back to the woods. “I have to-”

“You got a fucking death wish or something?” Katsuki growled. “That dumb sheep probably holed itself up at the neighbors-”

“I checked there already! What if he got hurt? Or stuck!” Izuku tried to tug his sleeve free of the wolf’s fangs. “What if the blizzard-”

Katsuki whistled, and the wolf released Izuku. “Your place ain’t close. How long you been wandering around?” Katsuki asked.

“I-I don’t know. A while?” Izuku turned back to the woods. “I noticed him missing just before the storm kicked up.”

“That was almost two hours ago. That dumb thing could be anywhere!” Katsuki snapped his fingers and motioned to Izuku. The wolf let out a huff before circling the nerd, sniffing at his coat. Once he was satisfied, he stopped, wagging his tail. “Fetch-” Katsuki commanded. The wolf barked and took off into the snow once again. “You better hope it didn’t go far. I doubt he can track much of a scent in the snow-”

Izuku wiped his face. “I-I should keep looking too-”

Katsuki grabbed Izuku’s arm. “Don’t be stupid! You probably already got frostbite! Let him do his thing!” He gave him a tug. “Come inside.” Izuku resisted at first before finally letting himself be dragged into the small cabin Katsuki called home.

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Izuku stayed glued to the window until Katsuki finally pulled him over to the fireplace. “He doesn’t usually take off-” Izuku started to ramble, hardly acknowledging as Katsuki stripped him out of his snow packed outerwear. His shirt looked damp with sweat.

“Probably havin’ a rut,” Katsuki muttered.

“What? No. It’s not the right time of year,” Izuku replied, tugging at his bottom lip.

“So? I’ve seen that damn thing stumble over its own feet. Probably had rocks for brains.”

“Kacchan-” Izuku shot him a glare.

Katsuki bit back a chuckle. He hung up the gloves and jacket by the fire. Izuku had already started pacing, shuffling over to check out the window again. Worry rolled off him in waves. Katsuki grabbed a hold of him and pushed him back over by the fire.

"Nothin' you can do, nerd-" Katsuki inspected his face, fingers brushing against the red tinged skin. Izuku blinked up at him sheepishly. Inhaling sharply. Katsuki ignored the hot, fluttery feeling in his stomach, shifting his gaze down to Izuku's hands. They felt like ice and were colored a beet red. A fairly good sign. "Boots off-" Katsuki muttered, pulling his hands away.

"I'm fine, Kacchan-"

"Shut the hell up and take your boots off. You probably lost half your toes in those damn peasant shoes," Katsuki growled, kneeling down in front of him.

"They aren't peasant shoes!" Izuku argued. "I just got them repaired!"

Katsuki slapped the side of his leg. "Don’t make me repeat myself, shitty nerd!" Muttering under his breath, Izuku obliged. He fumbled for a moment before kicking his boots off. Once free, Katsuki helped him out of his (painfully thin) socks.

His feet looked mostly fine, though they were starting to look a little white. "I'm gonna get you a change of clothes. Stay by the fire and don't go outside-"

"No, really, it's okay, Kacchan-"

"Don't be stupid! Even if wolf finds that stupid ram of yours, there's no way you can make it home tonight." Katsuki replied. "You can stay here and wait out the storm." Izuku had started muttering again, but Katsuki had already stepped into his room.

He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. He wouldn’t admit the feelings that simmered in the bottom of his gut. That fluttery, love sick feeling. Instead, Katsuki steadied the shake in his hands, collecting a full set of clothes for Izuku. He then returned to the living room, catching the green haired nerd peeking out the window yet again. “Jesus, would you relax already?” Katsuki growled.

“Aren’t you worried?” Izuku replied, tugging at his lip again.

“No.”

Izuku turned to Katsuki with a pout. He rubbed his hand against the glass, clearing away the bit of fog that had collected on the pane. “What if the wolf can’t find him? What will I do then?” Izuku asked softly. Katsuki was quiet for a beat before dropping the clothes on the couch and joining Izuku at the window.

“If anyone can find your stupid ram, it’s that damn wolf. He’s got a sharp nose.”

Izuku turned his face away, trying to discreetly rub tears from his eyes. “I just, I must have left the gate open. But he’s never taken off before, so why now?”

“Probably got sick of all your yammering,” Katsuki replied.

“Kacchan! I’m being serious!” Izuku huffed.

“So am I. I’ve seen you yap non-stop to the damn thing,” Katsuki countered. “You talk to it more than anyone else.”

“Yeah, well, nobody will listen to me half the time-” Izuku paused for a moment before glancing up at Katsuki. “I’m surprised you noticed.”

Katsuki clicked his tongue. “I didn’t notice shit. You just wander around the village, mutter like a creep. Hard to miss,” he grumbled, but the heat in his ears betrayed him. Izuku was quiet, but Katsuki swore he could almost see a smile tug at his lips.

They both were silent for a while, eyes glued to the window. Finally, Katsuki pushed Izuku towards the couch. "No use standing around. Get changed. I'll make some tea."

Izuku wrung his fingers together before letting out a soft sigh. "Right," he said softly. Katsuki left him to his own devices, heading straight for the kitchen.

He could hear the shuffling of clothes and the occasional mutter. The heat in Katsuki's ears started to spread into his cheeks. He forced himself to keep his eyes forward, grabbing the kettle from the stove.

They'd known each other since they were just little runts. Chasing the neighbor's chickens and reenacting the fabled tales of All Might. There was a brief while, when Katsuki's youthful pride as a warrior got to his head, and a rift tore between them. When the war came to their neck of the woods, they'd fought side by side. For someone who seemed small and frail, Izuku had more courage than most of the warriors in their town. The battles had been rough. Nobody came out unscathed. But ultimately, the end of the war brought them together. Katsuki swallowed his pride and managed to spit out his version of an apology. He didn't expect forgiveness. Not after how shitty he had been. But Izuku's heart was unbearably big and kind, and he'd forgiven Katsuki long before.

Katsuki dared to take a peek, glancing over his shoulder. He watched as Izuku slipped into the spare shirt he'd given him. His crooked fingers sliding to smooth the shirt. It only emphasized how small he was compared to Katsuki. Katsuki quickly turned away, cheeks flushing even hotter. 'Nope. Nope. Nope.' Katsuki prepared two mugs with tea. He didn't deserve Izuku nor have the right to think of him that way. When the kettle started to scream, he poured them both a cup.

"Kacchan! Did you hear that?" Izuku suddenly said.

"Hear what?" He growled, turning with the two mugs in hand.

"I heard a howl!" Izuku was already at the window, face practically squished up against the glass. "Maybe the wolf found him!" He stammered, bolting for the door.

“What the fuck, Deku! At least put your damn boots on!” Katsuki barked as the front door flew open. But Izuku was already gone, bounding out into the drifts of snow. Katsuki nearly dropped the mugs in a panic. He quickly abandoned them on the table before following suit.

Izuku paused for a moment, hands cupping his mouth, before letting out a return howl. As if that fucking wolf could understand him. But then suddenly, two shapes appeared along the tree line. Izuku broke into another run, screaming for his ram.

‘Imagine that.’ The wolf had found him. Izuku practically rolled the ram into the snow with his embrace. It gave out a weak bleat. “Where have you been!” He sobbed. “I was so worried-”

“Let up. He could be hurt! We should get him inside,” Katsuki grumbled, giving Izuku’s shirt a tug. Izuku pulled back.

“He found him, Kacchan!” Izuku scrubbed off the tears from his cheeks.

“I can fuckin’ see that. You also ran out here without any shoes, idiot!” Katsuki snapped. He quickly picked up the shorter man, tossing him over his shoulder. “Unfuckinbelievable-”

Izuku let out a squeak. He kicked his legs for a moment before Katsuki’s gave him a rough jostle. “K-Kacchan!” He whimpered. Katsuki ignored him, whistling to the wolf and heading back to the cabin. He dumped Izuku in the cabin.

"Stay by the fire and don't fucking move. I'll take care of your dumbass ram."

"But-" Izuku started to argue.

"No fucking buts!" He then ushered the ram into his barn. Katsuki didn't keep a lot of livestock anymore. But the ram fit right in next to the few goats he had. He looked it over, checking for injuries. "You're lucky, dumb shit," he mumbled. "I'd feed you to the wolf if Deku didn't care about you so damn much." The ram gave him a cheeky bleat. “Shuddup-” Katsuki growled quietly. Satisfied the ram was uninjured, he gave it a pat on the head before locking up the barn.

He trudged his way back into the cabin. As soon as the door was open, Izuku jumped on him, eyes wide. “How is he?”

“He’s fine! You can check on him in the morning,” Katsuki griped. The wolf let out a soft bark. “Jesus. Everyone’s so fucking needy-” he then muttered under his breath, giving the wolf a scratch behind the ear before pulling out a small bit of jerky he’d kept in his pocket. The wolf ate it greedily.

Izuku got down, ruffling the wolf’s coat. “My hero,” he whispered with a wide grin. Face shining. Katsuki felt his heart skip a beat.

“Don’t get too friendly. He bites.”

“Maybe you. I think he likes me,” Izuku said, burying his face into the thick coat. The wolf started to wag his tail. He squirmed free, attacking Izuku with several vicious licks. The nerd let out a gleeful giggle.

“Traitor-” Katsuki growled with the click of his tongue. But the wolf felt no shame, nearly knocking Izuku over with his powerful frame. He continued his relentless attack of happy whines and kisses.

❄️ ❄️ ❄️

Their tea had gone cold. By the time Katsuki reheated it, Izuku had moved over by the fire. The wolf kept him company, curling up at his side to act as a cushion for him to lean on. Izuku took the tea graciously. “Thank you, Kacchan! You really didn’t have to-”

“You better keep an eye on your feet. Damn things are probably going to blister,” Katsuki muttered, ears burning. He then grabbed one of the throws he kept over the back of the couch and tossed it at Izuku.

“Of course-” Izuku replied, carefully trying to maneuver the blanket around his shoulders without spilling his drink. A silence settled between them. Not quite comfortable, but bearable. It was moments like these that always made Katsuki feel on edge. Waiting for Izuku to finally speak. Would he finally chide Katsuki for his behavior all those years ago, even though he’d already spoken of forgiveness? Would Katsuki lose his nerve and say something irreversible? Make him cry, just like he did when they were children?

“How have you been lately?” Izuku suddenly asked.

“Fine, I guess. Why?” Katsuki replied, finishing the rest of his tea with a gulp.

“Just wondering. I haven’t seen you in a while. Not anyone, really.” Izuku’s eyes began to droop. His body slumped even further down into the wolf’s body.

“Well, then why the hell did you move so far away in the first place?” Katsuki grumbled.

Izuku hummed, eyelashes fluttering. “I didn’t really want to. Money was tight before my mom passed away. So we sold our land and moved to a smaller place. I thought about moving back, but I was already settled in, so-” He paused for a moment, letting out a yawn. “I mean, I don’t know if I could afford to come back, even if I wanted.”

Katsuki stared down at his cup. “You got friends in town. Why don't you move in with one of them? Until you get on your feet again. There’s better work in town than out in the fuckin’ boonies where you live.”

Izuku chuckled softly. “It almost sounds like you want me to come back,” he said softly.

“Fuck off. I don’t care what you do,” Katsuki growled. “Just a fucking option. Maybe you could buy some decent fucking shoes, then.”

Izuku’s laugh bled into a loud yawn. Eyelashes flickering as he tried to keep his eyes open. “Remember when we were kids and obsessed with that old book about All Might?”

“I’m pretty sure you still are obsessed,” Katsuki retorted.

“I mean, yeah. I guess I am. They just gave me so much hope, you know? And that’s how we became friends. Pouring over it over this old yellowed pages in that dark and dusty bookstore-” Izuku paused for a moment. “I don’t think we were even technically allowed in there.”

"Ha! That old fart could barely see, let alone hear. If anything, we were doin’ him a service by keeping the riffraff out.”

“Remember that one time you jumped from the second floor railing with a handful of firecrackers and scared Miss Kayama? I thought she was going to faint!”

“The hag whipped my ass for that one. Didn’t sit right for a week,” Katsuki muttered, though a smile tugged his lips a moment later.

“I mean, you almost set the building on fire, so-”

“Whatever! Only a handful of books got a little burnt-"

“I’ve always loved your adventurous attitude. Nothing ever scares you-” Izuku’s voice suddenly trailed off. Katsuki looked over, watching as the mug started to tip forward. He quickly grabbed it, carefully prying it from Izuku’s hands. The wolf let out a soft grumble. Katsuki stood, taking the mugs to the kitchen and setting them in his sink. When he returned, the wolf gave him another huff as Katsuki slipped his arms under Izuku.

“Shut yer trap,” Katsuki hissed. He lifted Izuku up slowly. The guy was much heavier than he looked. Just solid muscle under all those layers. Izuku’s eyes fluttered for the briefest moment before he curled into Katsuki. Murmuring under his breath. Katsuki shook his head, biting back a smile. He laid him on the couch, making sure to tuck him in tightly. “Keep an eye on him, yeah?” Katsuki whispered. The wolf chuffed, getting up and moving to lay in front of the couch. Katsuki stood still for a moment. Watching the slow rise and fall of Izuku’s chest.

Finally, he turned away, no longer able to bear the ache in his chest.

#mha #bnha #fan fiction #bkdk #bakudeku #bakugo katsuki #midoriya izuku #winter au #pining bakugo #bakugo is bad at feelings #reckless midoriya #aged up #I was very inspired by the cold #also neglecting my long fics #rip #bitter writes

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toointojoelmiller · 9 months

Text

please don't go: a last of us fic

chapter 3

after David / Silver Lake / post-episode 8

angst, Joel & Ellie bonding, 99% canon compliant

rating: mature - content warnings re: s/a, violence, more

ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | ch 6 | ch 7 | ch 8 | ch 9 | ch 10

link to whole story (work in progress) on AO3

-------

They're quiet for a while, both of them waiting to thaw and too exhausted to shiver and talk at the same time. It’s full dark by the time the sensation starts prickling painfully back into Joel’s toes. They’re huddled side by side with the heavy sleeping bags cocooned around them both, tugged over top of their heads slightly to trap as much heat in as they can. The zipped together sleeping bag blanket is big enough to overlap slightly in a double layer in front of them, even with a few bundles of the fabric bunched up under their legs to keep the cold coming up from from the floor at bay. It’s starting to feel warm. He still can’t quite believe any of it is real.

Ellie’s velcroed at his side, leaning into his shoulder a little, facing forward but clearly not really looking at anything. Her breaths are sounding a bit less laboured now that she isn’t having to fight so hard to stay upright and mobile - but the wheezy little noises are still leaking out steadily and he’s trying to dial in to listen closely, trying to tell if it’s coming from her lungs or her throat - like he’s a fucking doctor, anyway, like he can even do anything with that.

They’ve kept a small gap between the edges of the blanket where it comes up near their faces - enough of an opening to let Joel keep an eye on the parts of the window and door he can see from here, and to let them breathe in air that smells a bit less strongly like the blood and filth they are both covered in.

Running on fumes, Joel doesn’t even try to stop himself from remembering how Sarah looked laying in her little bed, tucked in the way she had demanded for so long, blankets pulled up in a hood all the way over the head, tucked in tight all around her, looped up and under her feet. Only her perfect round face was left free, big eyes peeking out into her room. “You look like E.T., little weirdo”, he’d tell her so he could listen to her giggle as he tucked her teddy bear in beside her.

“What- ” Tommy (young and dumb) had teased her once, “You think the monsters under your bed ain’t gonna find a way ‘round some butterfly sheets?” Set off a few long weeks of nightmares and sleep regression with that one. At least he’d learned his lesson - always more gentle with his words around her after that.

She was always making forts in the living room, too - although, admittedly, this is not much like one of Sarah’s famous couch-cushion-and-dining-chair-post-and-beam-blanket-forts, and more - well - a blanket-cave. He’s leaving his flashlight on for now, a sliver of harsh white light to see by under the blanket, solely so he can keep an eye on Ellie. Too afraid of missing something in the dark.

Joel’s rubbing her red stained hands between his and holding her fingertips close to his mouth, focusing on warming them a bit more with each exhale. Her frost-nipped fingers along with his seem to be finally returning to a normal temperature, no longer ice to the touch. And no blistering he can see yet - what’s one more miracle? - they might have somehow dodged frostbite.

He hopes he can say the same for the skin under her still wet jeans, water soaked up the legs from the snow, damp patches on her knees and seat from where she fell. Now that he knows they’re not fixing to freeze to death before the sun is up, he needs to start tackling everything else on the list of things that could be hurting her.

It’s a long fucking list.

“Your jeans are wet, Ellie,” he says, glancing down to where she’s leaning against his shoulder. “Should get in your dry pair soon - can’t stay damp all night.”

“Yours too,” she says softly after a minute, and he hmms in acknowledgement. Neither one of them moves.

She takes a few more breaths in and out before she continues talking. “Can’t. M- hurt my shoulder.”

He shuffles around a bit to face her more directly. “Think we’re warm enough under here now to take off that jacket for a bit - mind if I take a look?”

“S’fine - just hurts,” she replies, but she starts shrugging the coat off, needing a bit of help from him to twist in the awkwardness of the space without toppling over, struggling with her weakness under the weight of the blanket on them.

The coat falls and she resettles in just her sweater now, and Joel shifts a little more onto his knees - groaning through the hurt flaring up in his side again - trying to face her as square on as he can get to compare her left side and right side.

No obvious asymmetry he can see. Doesn’t look swollen.

“Can you move it?” He asks, lifting and holding his own arm up and out to his side to demonstrate. She starts to mimic him but winces and he reaches out to pause her from moving any higher -“Just stop there, that’s alright.” She obeys, dropping her arm down to her side.

“How’d it - d'you hurt it when you fell? Off the horse?”

She looks at him for another couple of seconds before her gaze falls down to the floor. The silence stretches on - it doesn’t seem like she’s going to respond. He takes a pause to evaluate her frame, no longer drowning in his coat. Smaller than he’d ever seen her before, easy - she’s dropped pounds she couldn’t afford to lose. A shrinking, starving little girl at risk of disappearing.

Add it to the list.

“You mind if I look over the rest of your arms?” He asks, after as much of the quiet settles in as he can take. He’s so drained of energy he doesn’t feel real. So sore. But his worry is loud in his mind, and the volume keeps dialling up as more time passes - starts to take on a sharper edge as he lets himself consider how little of her body he’s actually laid eyes on to check for injuries by this point.

After another few seconds, Ellie shrugs, her eyes staying glued to the floor.

He reaches down to hold one of her hands gently in his, and starts to slide her sleeve up and out of the way with his free hand. He blinks and she’s grabbed onto his wrist with both hands and she’s squeezing, tight. He freezes and tries to look at her still downcast face, finding nothing he can read.

“You’re -” she says shakily and then pauses, dragging in a gasp of air. She’s bawling a second later. Her tiny fingers keep squeezing tight. Her arms are tense, holding him at length.

“You’re the- the one hurt,” she wails without looking up at him. “You fe- you shouldn’t - your stitches-“ the rest of her sentence is lost.

He’s never seen her fall apart like this, even after all that’s happened. All she’s seen. Joel can feel his heart squeezing, shredding.

As quickly as she grabbed him, she’s dropped the hold on his wrist, and she’s got her fingers winding into the fabric of his flannel shirt instead, clenching her fists tightly in small jerks like she’s trying to accomplish something but it’s all just uncoordinated, purposeless movements. He’s not sure she’s behind the driver’s seat of what she’s doing anymore.

“Ellie, it’s okay,” he tries to soothe her somehow - it’s fucking hard to keep his voice steady with his throat working against him, feeling tighter and tighter. He covers her hands with his, no idea what else to do, rubbing his thumbs slowly across the back of her clenched tight knuckles. “I’m alright,” he keeps talking, hoping he sounds calm, "Nothin’ you need to-“

“Got medicine,” she sobs loudly.

“I know, baby. I know you did.”

“B-bleed-ing?” It comes out in gasps. She’s yanking harder at his flannel, and he gets what her hands are trying to do.

“No, no,” he moves hurriedly to tug up the bottom of his shirt until the stitched up gash is visible, exposed to the cold air. He fumbles for the flashlight, redirects the beam onto it. “See? No bleeding - stitched it up real good. Still holdin'. You saved me. I’m - I’m alright.”

In truth, the wound had been seeping all day as he twisted and strained - not much but enough to feel his clothes sticking to his side, to leave rusty stains blooming on the inside of his shirt - but he’s been still long enough that there’s no fresh wetness for her to see. He watches her shuddering and crying as she looks at the stitches, reaches out and places her fingertips just beside the wound where the swollen redness and heat still spills up out of the gash into his skin, the infection fading but not quite gone. He waits while she takes it in for a beat, and then another.

“Medicine?” she asks between crying jags, looking up at him.

“Packed - just saw it in my bag - I’m - I’m good - you don’t gotta worry about me anymore,” it's a plea, and he's looking at her as she sobs, begging her to hear, “Goddammit, Ellie - it’s my job to take care of you, you never shoulda - I don’t even know what’s happened to you, baby, I just - I need to make sure you’re okay."

“I’m-” she says with another full body shudder, pulling her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and pressing her face down onto her knees for a moment before she finishes her sentence - “M’ fine.”

And then she sits back up and nods a few times. There’s a new tightness showing up on her face, her jaw. She draws her shoulders back a bit, opens and closes her shaking hands a few times, shuts her eyes and sucks her sobs inwards until they get softer and smaller.

Joel recognizes what's happening with dread.

This is the part of Ellie that got her through growing up alone. A mouth to feed in a loveless FEDRA orphanage, neglected every day, tormented on others. The part that allowed her to get through a childhood spent trading blows with other lonely kids, all of them underfed and worked like dogs, trained to draw blood and shut up when they were bleeding. The only thing that could have let her survive being one of the smallest - he knows that must have made her an easy target, it leaks out so clearly in her get them before they get you veneer. And while Joel avoided any and all children in the QZ, he saw enough in the streets and back alleys to know that FEDRA kids don’t fight fair.

He’s watching a little girl shutting down inside, shoving her feelings down to be buried in some frozen, dark place. This is something - an instinct - that binds them. She was raised in it. He’s helped her perfect it.

Things happen and we move on.

The self-disgust churns white hot in his gut.

-----

link to whole story (work in progress) on AO3

#last of us fanfiction #joel and ellie #ellie and joel #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #dad joel #tlou angst #tlou fic #joel miller #silver lake #Joel angst #ellie angst #protective joel #ellie is a badass #Joel loves Ellie #last of us fanfic #Ellie loves Joel #please don't go #god I love Joel Miller

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sharkpupsblog · 2 years

Text

💔 Heavy Heart 💔

Katja x GN SoulRider! Reader fanfic

Pardon my language but what the f!?!? Sharkpupsblog fanfic!? I had this in my drafts for a while and it’s based on a line from when u meet Katja at the Pride Festival and lots of u said u would like to see it so…here it is! Hope u enjoy! Its a little OOC??? To me it seems so I’m so sorry 🤦‍♂️👎 normally people get gifts on their birthday but I’m breaking tradition 😳 giving u guys a silly little fanfic gift instead!!! Enjoy!!! :D (English is not my first language pls excuse the lack of commas and stuff like that ahfjsndhrbeh)

Katja is in love…she’s in love with you…she’s fallen for a soul rider but as much as she wants it a relationship can’t happen not only because you’re a soul rider but because she can’t touch anything or anyone. one touch from her would cause frostbite if she confessed and you accepted her she wouldn’t be able to do anything with you she couldn’t hug you or hold your hand and she can’t even kiss you…oh how she wishes she could kiss you. she’s really fallen for you she groans ‘stupid soul rider’ she thinks ‘stupid stupid stupid pretty soul rider’ she’s riding off the road between Fort Pinta and Moorland the pride festival is going on she watches as lots of people ride around celebrating. she’s far away from them she doesn’t want to be involved in their festivities she looks to her right side she sees the pride parade an evil smirk on her face…she has an idea. she wants to see you and she’s going to cause trouble so you’ll have to come out the soul riders always make you do all the work she’s 100% confident you’ll be the one to come stop her. she’s riding on Mortifa she looks down at her the blind mare walks confidently she trusts Katja to protect her and to lead her. the woman speaks and the mare’s ears snap back listening to her rider “how does a snowstorm sound Mortifa?” The mare neighs “wonderful” she replies and Katja stops her getting off of the mare she grabs her violin and bow off of her saddle. she pats Mortifa on the side she can touch her the mare is the same as Katja cold and cursed “stay here” she orders the horse and the mare listens staying perfectly still in the spot Katja leaves her in. Katja makes her way up to the lighthouse readying her violin she puts the end of it on her left shoulder resting her chin on the chinrest of the violin her palm on the neck her fingers on the strings with her right hand she grabs the bow and she begins to play. it doesn’t take long for a storm to form and a few minutes after it forms you come riding into the eye of her snowstorm on your horse to stop her she talks to you she threatens you but she doesn’t mean a word of it she loves you she wouldn’t hurt you. she tells you that if you want to stop the storm you have to destroy the crystals of ice she lies to you she can do it herself but she just wants to keep you around for longer she watches as you go from crystal to crystal. you and your horse working together to destroy them you’re a great rider she loves watching you gracefully ride to each crystal destroying each one with ease when you’re done you return to her. you’re off your horse holding onto the reins of the steed you tell her to leave and your horse neighs clearly agreeing with you she won’t fight you or your dumb horse she’ll leave she got what she wanted she got to see you. she tells you she’ll leave and she watches as you turn and walk away. Katja’s hand reaches out for you she can touch you maybe you’re like Mortifa? Maybe she can touch you?…she can touch your shoulder if she just reaches out a bit more… she takes one step forward and she stops her mouth parting in a quiet gasp shocked when little bits of ice form on your shirt as her hand gets closer to you. she tries to speak her words caught in her throat ‘tell them’ she thinks but she can’t no matter how hard she tries she can’t speak she can’t tell you…she loves you. When you’re fully out of her reach Katja’s hand turns into a fist and she drops her arm to her side angry that she can’t touch you angry that she can’t live a normal life angry that she can’t love you. she huffs feeling her eyes water she uses her fist to angrily wipe at her eyes she readies her violin again. Katja begins to play this time to call Mortifa no more snowstorm for today she’s tired she just wants to get back to the oil rig. Mortifa follows the music she rides to Katja and once she gets there Katja puts her violin and bow back in the saddle she gets on and she feels someone watching her. She looks to her right It’s you, you heard her playing again and you stayed to see if she was going to be an asshole and start another storm.

#ssoblr #star stable online #sso #darkriderkatjasso #ssofanfic #sharkpupsblogwrites!‼️🗣#lookingforssomoots💔

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kursed-curtain · 1 year

Note

33 for Graham and a member of his (Llewdor) family

21 for Odds and Evens

The door to the office swings open and Mr. Odden strides in. He's in his typical attire, and his black gloves are stained - not red, surprisingly, but wet and white. He wipes remains of the powdered outdoors on his rolled up sleeves. "Who knew they even had snow storms in this part of the kingdom?" He chuckles to himself, "And people don't get any more immune to frostbite."

…He hears the clinking before he notices someone in the room. Odden, still getting his bearings, playfully waves towards the clattering. "Evens, darling, I didn't know you were here," He reaches out for one of the boxes she's holding, and he finds it to be full of his potion supplies. There's an unnerved twinge to his smiling. "Oh, are you hoarding this all for your office? Why, if you're so desperate for it all, I can just have some batches shipped to you!"

"I don't want your potion supplies for myself," Ms. Evenleigh says, "I'm moving the lab out of your room and into the brewery."

"How thoughtful, Evie! What generous kindness!" Odds fawns, sarcastically, "I, however, need the lab here, so I can assist with brewing while in my own office."

"We have a brewery for a reason."

"I know, Eves, it's just…" Odds clicks his tongue. "How do I put this… It's not as fun that way."

Evens picks up a jar full of small, bluish purple flower buds. She rotates the jar, realizing a majority of the buds have been split in half and hollowed out.

She gives Odds a subtle raised eyebrow. "Have you been eating these?"

"Oh, those aren't for me! I leave them on the front of my desk for others to take. Similar to free mints on a table."

Evens glowers. "You're giving out forget-me-so buds?"

"It's for security!" He claims. Odds' right eye is twitching. Evens recognizes his tells. He continues his spiel, "Now if you give me those, we'll pretend this never…"

She simply has to lift the jar above her head to keep Odds and the flower buds separated.

"You're the only one here who has strong enough impulses to be eating forget-me-so buds at this rate," She says.

Odds stands on the arm of his armchair, straining to reach the jar. Evenleigh holds it away with ease, blank-faced the entire time.

Evens pushes him away with her finger. "You're also a terrible liar."

Odds smirks, then flops down in his chair, though not defeated just yet.

Evens skims over the notes on the top of the jar. "Nelia put warnings on the lid. If you haven't seen them, there are reasons why you shouldn't eat them raw."

"I know what I'm doing. I've been eating them raw for a while now, so I can assure you, I won't end up like Chastain. And, on the off chance I do, I'm entrusting the care of my half-brained body to you." He stands, sauntering over to Evens and the jar. "So with my trust in you, you'll have trust in-"

"Luci." Evens snaps.

Odds retracts his hand. His businessman grin has faded, and cracked into a scowl. His breathing goes heavy, "I thought I told you we don't. Bring. That. Up."

Evens huffs. "It gets you to listen."

Odden opens his mouth, but with no way to refute her point, he simply glares. Evens picks up the last crate of potion ingredients and leaves Odds alone with his thoughts.

Once Evens has left, Odds rubs his temple. He sits on the edge of his bed, lights his pipe, and takes a drag until his thoughts and the room become a blur.

The bedroom door opens again, this time Evens is the one peeking into the room. Odds sighs, then gestures for her to come in. She sits next to him on the bed’s ledge.

It’s silence for ten minutes or so "Mother would be disappointed in me."

"Well, then I believe mother would be placing the blame on the wrong person," Odds pats Evens on the shoulder. "I get into plenty of scraps, you're just unfortunately dragged into them."

"I didn't watch hard enough, though. One simple task…"

Odds leans on Evens. "I'm the one trying to forget. This is my mess. I'll clean it up when it's all over."

Evens leans too, though she turns away. "...Do you remember when you first ate one of the forget-me-so buds?"

"Don't fret about me when I say this, but no. I don't." Odds hums, "The taste is surprisingly alluring. Of course, I wouldn't recommend you consume any."

"I don't plan on doing so any time soon. I keep track of plans in my head."

"Is that because your handwriting kills brain matter at the sight of it?” Odds ribs at her.

Evens shields her mouth to protect her dignity. “I can read it.”

Odds practically jumps at the sight. “Oh, I see a smirk~!”

Evenleigh dodges Odds' fight to see her full smile, until she breaks into laughter. She immediately rushes to cup her mouth, but Odds got what he wanted. He gives a smug, triumphant smile.

Odds rubs the fingers of his damp gloves. "Hold on, it's snowing outside… remind me when my birthday is?"

"January 14th." She's quick to answer.

He snaps his fingers. "See? My mind hasn't dulled just yet! At least I remember certain events," Odds bumps Evens in the elbow. "As long as you are my mental calendar. Can I entrust you with that?"

Evens chuckles. "On my life."

#fight club au #@mr odden #@ms evenleigh #fanfic #ask game

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frostbite-fics · 2 years

Text

Let me take care of you - Damien x GN!Reader

Frostbite finally wrote smut again! Damien is a sub, I make the rules.

Content warnings: restraint, begging, a tiny bit of edging

Words: ~750

Damien was always a hardworking and caring individual. He took his job as mayor very seriously. You scolded him more than a few times for taking work home with him. He’d sit in his office and work on paperwork until ungodly hours of the night. On nights like that you’d have to bribe him into sleeping. A naughty thought crossed your mind. Mr. Mayor needed to stop taking care of the city for a little while and get taken care of himself.

You strolled into his home office to see him hunched over the desk, pen in hand. “Darling, don’t you think it’s time you took a break? You seem tense.”

“The paperwork-”

“Will be there tomorrow. It won’t sprout legs and wander away if you stop for the night.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again moments later. He cleared his throat, “I have been rather tense recently. I suppose the pressure of trying to get re-elected is getting to me.”

“I can help,” You smiled warmly as you turned his chair towards you. He made a small sound as your lips connected. You placed a hand on his inner thigh to gauge his reaction. The high pitched whine that passed his lips told you everything you needed to know. “Someone’s pent up,” you teased lightly.

“Yes, well,” He cleared his throat again. “I have been busy lately. We can take this to the bedroom-”

“Nope. I want you right here.” You met his eyes, noting the way his pupils were already blown wide. You palmed at his bulge, watching his eyes flutter closed as he sighed. “This is about you, so do you think you can be good for me and just relax? Let me take care of you.”

“Yes, oh god, yes.” He was melting into the chair.

He was already leaking precum when you unbuttoned his pants. You wrapped your hand around him, listening to the way his breath shook as you stroked. He grabbed at your shoulder to pull you close enough to kiss.

You stopped your hand.

“Ah ah ah,” You looked at the way he panted already. “You said you’d be good and relax. That means hands off. Do I need to tie your hands?” You teased.

He swallowed. His eyes flashed between your lips and your hand around his cock, still unmoving. “I…” he sighed. “Please…”

“Please what, Damien? What do you need?”

“I want you to tie my hands. Please, I need to give up control and let you make me feel good. I need it so much.”

You stepped away for a moment, coming back with a silk scarf. You held it up for him to inspect. He nodded, shifting in the chair. You stepped behind him, wrapping the scarf around his wrists. He moaned as you finished tightening the knot. “You know, you look pretty cute like this. All flushed and leaking, breathless for me,” You whispered in his ear.

He laid his head back with a low moan. “You are going to be the death of me,” he panted.

“And what a way to go, don’t you think?” You giggled.

He jumped when you wrapped your hand around his cock again. You started at a slow pace, letting him buck up into your hand. Your other hand worked his shirt open, fingers gliding over the heated skin of his chest. He arched into your touch as best he could with the restraints.

“Ah! Darling, oh please sweetheart don’t stop. It feels so good. I- I, I’m gonna-!”

You stopped your hand.

He sobbed, desperate to finish. His eyes were pleading with pupils blown wide. “D-darling why did you stop? I’m so fucking pent up, please, I’ll do anything just let me cum! Y-you feel how much I’m twitching. I’m desperate. Please please please keep going- aah!”

A long moan broke his begging as you began stroking again. He bucked his hips desperately into your hand, chasing his release. He was babbling and panting without regard to the reserved act he puts on. This is what he needed, to let go.

“Fuck, fuck please, I’m so- I’m so close. Darling, please don’t stop.” Tears of desperation pricked at the corners of his eyes. “Oh god please, I’m so pent up, I need this.” His whimpers and whines grew quicker and higher in pitch.

He came with a cry, nearly doubling over as he painted your hand and his stomach with white. His head fell back, “Thank you, I really needed that.”

#frost fics #spicy #mr mayor #cw restraint #cw begging #cw edging #wkm damien x reader

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dabisqueen · 1 year

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poor little kōki is the exact opposite of dabi, he has an ice quirk with a body made for a fire quirk (doesnt get his quirk until he's nearly five)

his quirk is dry ice, he can form little bits of it on his skin, and thankfully, hes at least immune to the carbon dioxide gas that pours off of it

only thing is when he uses it for a long period of time, little ice burns (yes thats a thing) and frostbite form where the ice was

yua's sad about him getting an ice quirk that intense but its still not as bad as hers so shes thankful for that

has a little crying session with kōki one day when he runs up to her crying (like, ugly crying) about his hands hurting and how theyre so cold but feel like they've been set on fire

you ever been outside in cold weather without gloves on? after a while it starts to feel like your hands are on fire and i can tell you it hurts, it does actually feel like theyre actively on fire (discovered this during recess and the teachers STILL refused to let us inside smh)

yua knows that nerve damage from an ice quirk is inevitable, as far as she's aware, but shes startled bc hes getting it so much more intensely than she did and a lot sooner

when the nerve damage gets to his wrists and little bits of frostbite start forming at his fingertips she makes the decision to try and put him on quirk dampeners (i've always thought this was or at least should be a thing for people with intense quirks and/or criminals in custody)

she makes the decision while dabi is out on a mission so the moment he gets back to the hideout its "dabi i'm going to try to get kōki on quirk dampeners. he's starting to get frostbite on his fingers and i've tried warming him up and so has masami and its not helping and i cant take another day of him crying over the nerve damage his quirk is causing."

dabi sort of blames himself because even if the kid didn't get his quirk, he probably should've stayed away from yua. i mean, his parents did the hot + cold thing and look what happened to him, how did he not expect that somebody with blue fire + somebody with an ice quirk that lets their body get as cold as ice xiv (-160⁰C, i think, dont quote me on that) would end up with at least one of their kids ending up at least somewhat like him

he doesnt argue with her, cause at this point kōki is ten and he does not want to wait until he hits puberty to see if his quirk gets even stronger and/or more harmful like his did, and from how she's talking, momma bear does not sound like shes going to try to hear him out even if he didn't wanna put kōki on quirk dampeners

kōki (reluctantly) agrees to them, and yeah, hes sad that he cant summon dry ice anymore (he can pretty much only lower his body temperature now due to the dampeners) but he'll take being nearly quirkless over one that causes that much pain

when masami closes in on puberty dabi watches her like a HAWK especially whenever she's using her quirk (not very often since she can't safely use it inside, but if shes excited sometimes she'll poof into a ball of flames for a moment completely on accident, so sometimes it happens inside anyways)

she's not happy about it ofc "dad PLEASE i didn't wanna use a blow torch for this recipe and you staring at me is making me feel like im messing it up."

masami is 17 or 18– pretty much done with the worst of puberty and nearing the end of it for girls– before he lets up on the "much watch the baby" thing

both kōki and masami bug them for another sibling constantly "dad, dad, please i'm your sweet little girl you GOTTA listen to me and give me a little sister pleeeeeaaase i'll do the dishes or something if you do." "no, masami, shut up, we don't need a another girl. dad, look at me. give me a brother. i'll feed him and take care of him i promise." "mom–"

dabi is tempted but yua absolutely refuses because shes nervous the next one will have issues with their quirk too and after hearing her reasoning he suggests she goes on birth control

cause if shes on BC then he wont have to wear a stupid ass condom and they wont have to worry about another kid

dabi takes a lot of pride in the fact that his kids adore him

anytime they get hurt, if he's there at the moment, theyre immediately running over to him and telling him what happened

kōki normally just wants a hug and a "its okay", but masami on the otherhand wants the ouchie smooched and to be held for a while ( a nap w/ dad doesn't sound too bad but they HAVE to have a fan blasting them because their body heats combined makes them sweat gallons )

kōki drew something? immediately running to show dad

masami found out she can make fire come out of her nose? running to show dad

one of em had a nightmare? oh dad looks cozy and safe, think i'll sleep between him and mom tonight

kōki cools down the older he gets and will try to deal with shit on his own more often, really only goes to dabi when he needs to, but still shows he loves him even if its occasionally

"kōki why are you hugging me im in the middle of something" "because i love you and i havent gotten a hug from you in a few days AND masami's being an ass."

masami still goes to dabi for just about everything even as she grows and even into adulthood takes naps with him

still idolizes dabi just not like a little kid does, goes from "my dad is my favorite person ever he can do know wrong he can probably fly too but I'll have to ask AND he can totally beat up your dad" to "my dad's a total badass and i love him. could still totally beat up your dad btw"

in an au where they can actually go to public school– one day when theyre teens kōki brings home a boy with a fire quirk and masami brings home a boy with an ice quirk and dabi just thinks "ah. the cycle continues."

Hey everyone! This is a really nice read!

So cute, all the details!

You did well 💙

#queen answers #dabi au

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eepyuii · 4 months

Text

frostbite — pt. 5

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; just a lotta fighting, painful amount of archon quest biz (at least to me LMAO)

notes ; finally!!!! it’s here!!!!!! my winter break started this last week and i took the chance to take a small break from writing this (i had a PHAT writer’s block for a few days too).

in that time, i also came to the heartbreaking realization that the reader’s backstory is literally fucking mercy overwatch’s backstory. i cannot elaborate but it is the undeniable truth and it vexes me so…

finally- kinda unhappy with this chapter, it feels a little inconsistent to me considering the breaks that i took between writing certain parts and i also absolutely HATE having to follow the AQ dialogue script, it’s the bane of my existence.

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“y’know i also did have something to talk about with you.”

“yeah? what’s that?”

“well you see- the traveler and paimon went to seek help from that little girl at bubu pharmacy, qiqi, and-“ you tuned out the rest of his tale. at the moment, you and childe were both sat at the edge of the mountaintop where you’d fought mere minutes ago, looking over at liyue harbor below.

with fists tightly gripping onto the grass underneath you, you scrutinize every detail of the harbor that you could at such a height, which you’d much rather do than even spare a glance at the harbinger beside you. you think you’d murder him on the spot out of sheer rage if you looked at him. he keeps going on and on with the story, until you hear him slap his thigh and pause his sentence to let his laughter seep through.

“an- and then.. qiqi says ‘coconut milk’! the cocogoat they were looking for that whole time wasn’t real! it was just coconut milk! hahahah…” childe wheezes, bringing a finger to wipe the tear that creeps into his eye.

qiqi’s coconut milk..? oh, so that’s what that was about. the recollection of your sighting reignites your determination to steer childe away from his plan- that is the whole reason you’re even there after all. you’re quick to tune him out again as he insists on the sheer hilarity of what he’s just recounted, rehearsing in your mind how you’ll try to sell him on your idea. you fidget with the socket of your polearm, where blade meets the pole in tight bindings, with furrowed eyebrows and a tense expression.

“yeah, uhm, really funny story and all but-“ with the start of your sentence, childe abruptly ends his giggles and turns to listen to you with full attention.

“w-what if… you.. didn’t summon osial?” there. bandaid’s ripped. you considered buttering up your proposition with a foreword but there seems to be no point in it- he doesn’t burst into incredulous yells at your outrageous request.

no, he chuckles.

“i knew that’s what you’d want to talk about from the beginning. thought you’d be more assertive about, though.” he teases with a warm smile. it’s too trained. disingenuous.

“unfortunately i can’t guarantee that.”

there it is. you’re at least proud of yourself for detecting it before he could catch you off guard with his obnoxious phony grin.

“well humor me then. why not? we have no confirmation as to whether or not your theory about the forging of rex lapis’ death is right and-and what if he’s really dead?! what if it’s just that easy and the gnosis, if not inside the exuvia, is just hidden away somewhere else?! i-i mean liyue is huge! there’s tons of places-“

childe presents a collected yet amused expression, one that irks you to no end. “it’s a last resort, y/n. that’s all it is.”

“but it’s not! you’re planning on using it, i can tell that you are. and that’s, by definition, not what a last resort is-“

“what’s made you so bent on stopping this anyhow?”

at the question, you finally halt from your panicked rambling. you take a second to stabilize your breathing, to finally let out a deep sigh from the very bottom of your chest.

“i know it’ll sound stupid and corny but… i saw the people. i spent the entire evening yesterday walking around the harbor and watching people just- exist. and they’re so full of life, they have so much to tell, so much to show.”

if there was anything that could make you feel smaller and more embarrassed at that moment, it was tears. and by the gods, did they deliver- eyes fluttering, lips trembling. the whole spiel.

“they have so much to live, still. and i-i can’t take that away from them. well, at least i can’t watch you take that away from them, it’s not even within my direct power to stop you or not. i’m just a measly battle medic, one that’s watched the doctor and so many other fatui operatives do horrible things to people. people who are just like anyone else in the harbor, who deserved to live just as much as they do. i don’t care what you do to get the damn gnosis so long as it doesn’t risk turning hundreds of innocent people into unnecessary casualties.”

your fists return to grip the grass, this time so tightly that the dirt and roots start to rise within your balled fingers.

“and don’t act like it’s not unnecessary and rather some sort of valiant show of unyielding loyalty to her majesty so you can follow through with it. neither of us are stupid but one of us is stubborn.”

he looks at you in utter silence, you can’t tell if he’s studying all of what you’ve told him or just perpexled at just how much you unearthed. and then he laughs again, hard. you truly cannot tell what’s gotten him into such a giggly mood today.

“ah, y/n, you never cease to amaze me. you see right through me! read my entire plan like a children’s tale.” he shakes his head amusedly.

“unfortunately, you were wrong about one thing- this grandiose overkill of mine isn’t only for the sake of the tsaritsa. while i do aim to fulfill the mission she gave me, i also aim to make some entertainment out of it while i’m at it. i want the thrill of a real battle, real stakes. and that means i have to see my plan until the very end. not to mention, i believe in the pursuit of strength above all else- if the people of liyue can truly prosper without a god, they’ll have to show their capability to do so one way or the other. i’m simply speeding up the process.”

childe states nonchalantly, as if his words don’t sound almost entirely insane. he stands up from his spot beside you and dusts off his trousers, beginning to walk away with the most careless pip in his step. until he stops midway and looks back at you over his shoulder.

“i’m sorry, there’s truly nothing i can do about this. though, if you’d still like to fight back, i urgently invite you to do so- i would love to see more of your skills in action, plus it would make things so much more interesting.”

—

what ensues next is the worst waiting game of your life.

sat pathetically at your office desk, leg bouncing restlessly. you’d done anything and everything to pass the time- crosswords, reading, doodles, even paged through a magazine on the inazuman art of paper folding- origami, it was called. at this point your desk was overflowing with tiny paper stars, cranes and flowers.

you know the milelith would be here, locking down the bank and investigating any suspicious activity- all while the real suspicious individual was nowhere to be found. well, you know exactly where he is and exactly what he’ll do there. yet you sit here, tail between your legs, waiting for things to resolve themselves, if they even do. curse the guilt that ever grows in your chest. and curse the the job you never wanted, that put you in this gut wrenching dilemma. but truly, curse the millelith for being so incompetent as to take so long to arrive at the bank that it gives you more than enough time to sneak out and make your way to the golden house as fast as humanly possible.

you find the luxurious building devoid of any guards, or people at all. that is until you walk in, weapon drawn, to find unconscious millelith soldiers by the door, expectedly, as well as the familiar sight of the traveler with paimon by her side, all the way across the floor of the house.

as you get closer, so does childe, coming out of hiding to catch the duo off guard. he starts speaking to the traveler and paimon, seeming oblivious to your arrival until the sound of your careful footsteps are within his earshot- his ears seem to perk up ever so slightly, just like they did when you first arrived in liyue, though he doesn’t show sign of being surprised in the slightest.

“speaking of being in my way...” childe taunts, merely looking at you from over his shoulder. the two lean over to the side to see what he was referring to and when they spot you in your prepared stance, paimon jumps.

“agh! it’s a fatui ambush!!” she panics.

“so you’ve been planning on taking the gnosis from inside the exuvia all along?” the traveler asks with calculated calmness.

“not exactly. i’m not here with the intention of following through with that plan- looks like i arrived just in time too.” you reply, eyes staring daggers onto childe’s back.

he scoffs. “don’t you think that trying to stop me now would just be wasted effort? as one of the eleven fatui harbingers, it is my duty to see the will of the tsaritsa fulfilled. she will get that what she desires…” childe turns to face you coldly.

“i know i openly urged you to come here, y/n, but we both know that is what will ultimately happen.”

“not if i have anything to say about it.” the traveler threatens.

“ha! i’m not asking for your blessing and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. the time for discussion and diplomacy has already passed. i mean, if it were up to me, i would’ve skipped that stage to begin with- but i’m willing to do as the tsaritsa deems fit.”

childe sighs dreamily. “either way, we now to my favorite part. a simple pleasure that i am oh so delighted to share with you-“ his eyes turn to you, an excited glint in them.

“the battle.” the look in his azure gaze shifts from excitedness to maniacal faster than you realize.

“battle? so you’re the type that goes looking for trouble, huh?” paimon says, a serious and cautious expression on her small face that you hadn’t caught before.

“haha, you could say that. when signora offended the deities outside the cathedral in mondstat, she swiftly left the scene once her mission was accomplished. instead of confronting you directly, she relied on the snow and ice to make her escape. she wouldn’t want the knights to come running toward the sound of battle, now, would she? when she faces a worthy opponent, she will prioritize her mission, weigh the outcomes, and consider the consequences of her actions…”

signora… so that’s how she acquired the anemo gnosis. you’d never gotten much involved with her dealings, both directly and indirectly, so you only heard whispers and passing reports of her successful mission in mondstat. you know she was supposedly involved in the current mission as well but hadn’t run into her even once. you’d hope to keep it that way.

“hm… you not so much, though, right? i’d hate to even consider riding signora’s coattails but which one of you has already brought a gnosis home?”

slow, steady steps direct you toward where the traveler and paimon stand ready- though you still face childe with watchful eyes and some newfound smugness.

childe beams at the imposing stances the three of you present.

“oh-hoh, so you intend to fight me? good… i won’t kill you all, i’ll just play along- to feel the thrill of battle!”

“besides, you could never defeat me. not even in your wildest dreams.” he turns to you. “that includes you, y/n. all the skill that you have only got you far enough to catch me off guard- you won’t fool me again. but hey, try to relish the fight anyway. if you ask me… without that, what else is there?”

“if you’re as strong as you are delusional then maybe you stand a chance.” you snarl back.

for now, you decide to ignore how the entire current situation seems to only feed into exactly what childe wants so extensively that he looks giddier than any kid of teucer’s age would look in a toy store, mission completely disregarded at this point.

“ahahaha! fighting talk, i love it! now let’s see you live up to it…”

the fight starts almost immediately, with a round of rapid hydro arrows fired by childe- easily avoidable. he dashes across the floor of the golden house, dodging the travelers geo constructs and your cryo advances. all three of you seem to equally sustain yourselves in a way that creates a nearly tiring back and forth of strikes, just like your spar with the harbinger earlier. eventually, childe resorts, almost without thinking, to a cylindrical barrier of hydro that becomes the most perfect opportunity for you to send a wave of ice that freezes over the barrier in record speed, shattering it into dust and opening the way for the traveler to deliver a final strike. though, before she can, childe is enveloped in a dome of coursing water- its current powerful enough to push the two of you away. it lasts for a few seconds, completely obscuring your opponent, you assume he’s using it to recover momentarily.

you take the opportunity to check up on the traveler and paimon to tend to any injuries they might’ve sustained- the very moment you take your eyes off of childe, a purple spark shoots out right before your face, effectively startling you back into a combat stance.

“good! no wonder signora was so wary of you. well, that just means i can go all out! brace yourself, this is about to get tough…”

the roaring smack talk comes from a newly transformed childe, who now wields his electro delusion in a slightly different uniform- black garments and his signature red mask covering his face. the elemental blades he famously uses now spark with pure electricity and they swing at the two of you with unparalleled speed. you’ve always known of childe’s delusion, though you only ever heard whispers about his electro form. unfortunately, the fatui gossip and childe’s very own trash talking weren’t mere bluffs, the fight felt extensively tougher. he dashes and blinks in every direction, leaving you disorientingly little time to position yourselves. with caution and hyper-awareness, you and the traveler manage to get some hits in the harbinger- yet they prove futile in staggering your opponent when he sends a powerful rush of attacks that send the three of you flying back.

the traveler struggles briefly to get back up, while you recover quicker and rush to stand before her and paimon defensively. childe steps towards you menacingly, swirling his weapon around.

“not bad. your skills are quite impressive… but that’s about as far as you’ll get.” he charges forward, weapon pointed, only for the traveler to send a small vortex of… anemo? she was just using geo powers a second ago… and now that you think about it, where is her vision? as if to further your confusion, she simultaneously summons a wave of geo crystals while still maintaining the vortex. well, no time to be befuddled for much longer, as you brush it aside to cast your own counterattack of ice- this time successfully sending childe back.

wait… successfully?

when the dust clears, it reveals a ring of geo crystals surrounding where childe was supposed to be, though in his place is only the double edged spear he wields. the hairs on the back of your neck rise and you turn around almost as fast as childe’s own lightning sparks. floating, somehow, right beside the exuvia is none other than the harbinger, chuckling darkly.

“hahah… didn’t think you had that card up your sleeve…”

paimon kicks the air frustratedly. “you were just playing us to get to the exuvia!”

“it’s-… it’s not there..” you pant out exhaustedly, quiet enough so only the traveler and paimon hear.

“oh quiet down!” snarls childe. he closes a fist loaded with electro energy and sends it into the exuvia, a powerful wave shoots out from it. “well then… i’ll be taking morax’s gnosis now!”

when he pulls his hand back out, it’s empty. you sigh, somewhat relieved to be right while childe barks out hearty, maniacal laughter.

“ahahahah! i see how it is…” he turns to you- well at least you think he’s looking at you, the mask covers his eyes from you yet you still feel the burn of their stare. “seems like you were right all along, y/n. i never should have doubted your intellect… or maybe… maybe you beat me to it, didn’t you?!”

childe growls like a crazed animal, his accusation toward you doesn’t even make any sense- though, sense seems to have been abandoned by him long long ago. he shoots into the center of the room and water and electricity swirl around him, sending several flashes of purple that blind your vision. when your eyes recover and you look back to the where childe was meant to be, there stands… something you’ve never seen before.

something otherworldly.

gigantic stature, sharp claws, a flowing cape with the pattern of a starry night, orange spiked hair and a shell-like, crimson colored mask that harbors a glowing blue gem right in the middle are what makes up the creature in front of you. what in the gods’ names was it? it didn’t resemble a hilichurl, an abyss mage or any regular animal, it was unusually humanoid. and most of all, where did childe go? actually, you know the answer to the latter, you just don’t want to accept it. it couldn’t be, it wasn’t possible, it wasn’t feasible for that to be him. but there was no other possibility, he was nowhere to be found and the resemblance was undeniable- you stare into the creature’s singular, cerulean eye and feel familiarity stir within you. the realization sends sheer horror into your very being, horror you haven’t felt in years.

“a-… ajax?”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap

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