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baratiddyappreciator · 4 months

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Christmas with the Baki Cast

So uh, here's the lost post! :D I got all the way down to the beginning of the NSFW short for Chiharu when I did a fucky and lost *everything* up until the HCs for Hanayama. So uh, merry (belated) Christmas! Enjoy y'alls juice! SFW HC's and NSFW short stories (coming soon) This is gonna get posted late because I have to fly back to Canada and won't have internet until late. Natsue and Doppo are being written as a "you are the third" type deal because I love them as a couple too much to break them up.

Baki:

He never really had a proper Christmas since both Yujiro and Emi were very neglectful of him, but he did sometimes have people swing by his place with gifts, which stopped after Emi’s death, so he hasn’t really celebrated since. He does get Musashi some gifts, but dog treats and a toy don’t make proper gifts for him. You’re going to have to show him the ways.

He’ll indulge you in Christmas activities, especially the ones that involve him getting something to eat! Hot chocolate with marshmallows, Christmas cookies, he’s down with all of it. Getting a tree? Yeah! Sounds like fun! He’s not as good decorating, his trees make a big chaotic mess every time he tries to decorate, so you’ll have to help him, or embrace the chaos.

Take him skating and watch the great and powerful Baki Hanma fall flat on his ass several times. He’s strong, graceful, agile and he has pretty good balance, but he’s never been skating before and he has no idea how to. You’ll have to drag him over to the boards and show him how. Once he gets the hang of it he’s not too bad, but he has no idea how to stop even though you’ve showed him five times, so he’ll just slam into the boards or fall on his ass.

He does try to behave about Christmas gifts, but he doesn’t always succeed. The man is determined to get a peek at what you got him, since all of his gifts would be dropped off on Christmas eve. That was for a reason. You’ll need to get dummy boxes so he gives up on looking for his actual gifts. As to him giving you gifts, he goes a bit all-out. Careful what you mention wanting around him, because he will get it for you with no regard for how much he has saved up in his inheritance (a lot) and you won’t be able to put it all away.

He’s actually really good about stockings though! You can fill his stocking with just about anything and he’d be absolutely delighted to have it! Snacks, knick-knacks, practical stuff, he loves it all because it’s from you. On his end though, your entire stocking will be full of snacks and tinier gifts he couldn’t bother to wrap (he sucks at it).

Chocolate advent calendars are a win with him, but he’ll only go along with them for a few days before he tears the whole thing open in the middle of the night while you’re alseep. You’ll notice evidence of his crimes (missing calendar, little pieces of cardboard he didn’t see) in the morning when you wake up. He’s both very sorry and not sorry. Yours is safe though, he promises not to touch it.

Kozue:

For the longest time it was just her and her mother for Christmas and they didn’t really celebrate it that intensely, but now that she has you she has an excuse to go all-out. You’ll walk to her house one day and discover that the entire thing has been shot with a Christmas canon. There are lights and decorations everywhere, and it’s glorious. Inside isn’t much better, her poor mother has to accept the fact that Kozue is just going to take over their shared living space temporarily.

She loves the more low-key Christmas activities, like sitting curled up on the couch and drinking hot cocoa or eggnog, but she’s not opposed to going out and sledding down a hill or building a snowman (weather permitting). As long as she’s spending time with you, she’s perfectly happy! Just don’t make her watch those Hallmark Christmas movies unless you’re both hatewatching.

She’s pretty good on the ice! Not some godess or something, but still, pretty good! She’ll be glued to your side for most of the time, snuggling as you two skate around or holding your hand, but she will take off at some point to do a few laps around the rink to get the energy out. It’s like when cats get zoomies, just taking off at full speed, zipping around and then returning for cuddles when they’re done.

She does actually behave about her gifts! She’ll be perfectly fine with you leaving her gifts beneath her tree at home, won’t even think about peeking until maybe Christmas eve. This being said, all of your gifts are wrapped by her mother, because Kozue is helpless when it comes to wrapping things up. She can put them in a gift bag no problem, but actually wrapping? Can’t do it. She’ll try for one or two and you can tell which ones she did. Her gifts are very thoughtful, so there aren’t usually many unless there are a lot of smaller things.

She loves stocking stuffers because she also doesn’t have to wrap those. She’ll have a stocking for you hanging on her door, and she’ll put a little gift inside it every day leading up to Christmas. A lot of her gifts are either practical or knick-knacks she saw that reminded her of you. As for what to get her for stocking stuffers, anything practical is greatly appreciated! She’d adore you for giving her socks, a scarf and a hat, and you will absolutely see her wearing them for as long as possible.

She’s good with chocolate advent calendars, she’ll do as she’s supposed to do and open a flap every day. Hell she even has a routine so that she can have her chocolate before bed every day and end it on a high note!

Hanayama:

You’d think he’s not into Christmas at all but you go to his house on the first of December and it looks like someone’s been decorating for weeks and not just a matter of hours. He goes all-out for the holidays because he knows that his mother really used to like them, and it’s a tradition he’s going to carry on. He’ll at least wait for you to pick out a tree though.

Speaking of trees, that’s one of his favourite christmas activities if he’s being honest. Going out to pick out a tree is always fun because then he can look at other things at the same time! Efficient? Yes! Fun? Well, he’s enjoying himself, but after the fifteenth stop before even looking at the trees you’re going to get bored. He’ll also enjoy sitting in and drinking, but don’t expect him to carol or watch movies, he can’t stand them. (He already watched all of them at least once when he was little.)

Normall he’s pretty damn sturdy, you’re not going to shake him if you shove him while he’s on stable ground. Put him in a pair of skates on the ice and it’s like he’s a newborn fawn though. You can poke him and he’ll collapse, he has absolutely no balance on skates in general, the ice just makes that worse. He’ll be stiff the entire time and won’t relax until he sees some kid pitch themselves full-force against a sideboard and be completely fine because they went limp. You’re going to have to hold his arm because he’ll obliterate your hand if he wobbles.

He’s so good at ignoring his own Christmas gifts that you’ll have to remind him that they’re there when it’s time to open them. He appreciates them, of course, but there’s literally no temptation for him because he knows he’ll open them eventually. Good luck opening yours though, they’re wrapped so well that you’re going to need a knife to get them open. I’m serious, there are no visible seams that can be felt, the tape is going to be your only hint as to where to pull. It’s impressive.

Stocking stuffers from him are no less frustrating because he’ll wrap those too. Did he get you a candy? It’s wrapped. Socks? Wrapped. Little trinket? Wrapped. Does he do it to watch you suffer? Partially, yeah. Doesn’t matter if it’s already pre-wrapped anyways, he’ll tear that off and wrap it himself. And he does get you a fairly good mix of things! As for what to get him, anything practical is a win in his book, but you can hit him real good with a proper thoughtful gift.

He doesn’t really care about chocolate advent calendars unless they’re dark chocolate. He’ll leave the milk chocolate one for you to eat on Christmas, but dark chocolate? Oh no, you can’t even look at the thing or he’ll glare at you. That’s his, don’t touch it.

Chiharu:

He tries his best with what he’s got, but his Christmas decoration collection is so sad. He’s got old stickers he can put on the window that are so beat up they look like they were in a house fire, he’s got a little snowman he puts outside his front door and another one he likes to put on his kitchen counter, but that’s about it. Please get this man Christmas decoarations he will use them all and love you forever.

He’s down for literally every Christmas activity there is. Caroling? Bet your ass! He’s off-key the entire time but he’s having fun! Sledding? He has no sense of self-preservation, so you’ll have to drag him away from anything legitimately dangerous. Driking cocoa and eggnog? Hell yeah! Especially if there’s booze involved! Getting a tree? Hell yeah! He’ll make room for it in his living room! Decorating said tree is one of the few moments where he’s genuinely calm. He has the most beautiful tree too, it’s just the right mix of cluttered and bare that makes a tree look stunning.

He sucks at skating, even he will tell you that, but he’ll always accept an offer to go! You’ll find him zipping around the ring only to hear him crash straight into the boards. It’s fair to worry that he might break some bones. It’s absolutely because he doesn’t know how to stop by the way. He has no clue how and he’s too scared to ask at this point. Besides! It’s fun! Good luck getting him to stay next to you though. Once he’s gone he’s gone.

He’s just as bad as Baki when it comes to his gifts. He just has to know what you got him! He’ll try his best to sneak a gift, only to find that the most appealing one was a dummy! Surely the others wouldn’t also be dummies, right? You’ll wake up to him begging you for forgiveness because he knows that you’ll notice all of his “gifts” have been opened. He’s surprisingly pretty good at wrapping gifts though! So if he really wants to hide the evidence, he will… For about an hour, then he’s spilling his guts. He can’t lie to his baby!

Stockings aren’t safe either, but they’re safe for longer. Once he cracks open all his gifts, you have about two days before he tries for the stocking. Mess with him, fill his up with coal and he’ll properly give up until Christmas. knick-knackks and snacks are greatly appreciated, but he won’t turn down anything more practical either! Hair care is a quick way to ensure he’s happy for the rest of the day. Your stocking stuffers from him are surprisingly thoughtful and really sweet, he gets you things he knows you’d like and appreciate, a mix of everything is in there.

Advent calendars aren’t safe from him no matter what they contain. Chocolate? Gets eaten. Puzzles? They get assembled over the course of one night. Anything you can think of in an advent calendar just gets ripped out and admired over the course of a few minutes after you give him the calendar in the first place. No patience from this man. Yours is safe for as long as you tell him it’s boring.

Katsumi:

Everyone, meet santa himself. I’m serious when I say that he decorates his appartment and the dojo on the first of December. He comes home dead tired afterwards, but he still does it every year. He puts a lot of effort in, he even organises a Christmas party for Shin-Shin-Kai members and their families, with a hired Santa and everything. The dojo is rarely going to look that festive ever again, and it’s a good way to get the future generation into Karate! Also: Christmas at his parents house is mandatory.

He’s down for all of the activities, and the bonus of getting not one, but two Christmas trees! One for home, and one for the Dojo! He loves decorating them too, if he can get the kids to help him decorate the one at the Dojo it’s even more fun and special, they all absolutely adore him. Katou can make fun of him all he wants, but he knows for a fact that he’ll get more gifts from the kids than anyone else, and Katou can then sit and be jealous in the corner.

He is beauty he is grace, he will not fall on his face. Take him ice skating and see some lingering influences from his time in the circus as a child. If this man knows how to figure skate, then he won’t tell you, but you won’t be able to tell if he does or not because he’s just doing stuff to impress you. He’ll eventually come back to you though, don’t worry! He’ll hold your hand and skate with you, you’ll both wind up with sore cheeks from laughing so hard.

He’s good about his gifts, if only because Natsue would kick his ass if she found out he ruined your fun by peeking at his gifts. Please do let him open one on Christmas eve though, boy is about to combust in anticipation. He’s about average when it comes to wrapping gifts, but he does make a considerable effort to make yours look pretty. And speaking of yours, he gives you some pretty extravagant stuff.

Stocking stuffers are the things he finds hardest to resist. Like he knows there’s goodies in there, they’re easy access, but he’s not going to touch them because he knows you’ll be disappointed in him. He promises he won’t. He doesn’t care what it is, gifts are gifts and he appreciates whatever you get him. He’ll do his best to get you something sweet that you can use.

Advent calendars are used properly with him, he loves the chocolate ones, and he will use each piece of chocolate in a new way. One day it’s in his coffee, the next it’s in his hot chocolate, he’s going to take full advantage of having some. Your advent calendars are safe, but once you pull the chocolate out you’d better immediately eat it or else you’re getting a cup of the exact same stuff he’s drinking.

Jack:

He’s religious, so that aspect of the holiday is somewhat important to him, but in general he doesn’t care about Christmas. He doesn’t really do well with gifts, and he’d rather just spend time with the people he cares about, so his mother, his brother and you, but he’s not going to complain if that doesn’t happen since he didn’t get much of a Christmas when he was younger, so anything you do is probably going to be better than what he had.

He honestly just doesn’t mind going out to do Christmas activities with you, other than caroling. It brings back good memories for him. He’s especially fond of getting some nice hot chocolate or apple cider and going for a walk through the woods, it fulfils his need to just get outside and enjoy the cold weather he’s more used to before the warmth comes back.

Actual god out on the ice. You don’t really expect for such a big man to be able to move that fast or that gracefully, but he does, and it’s both enchanting and terrifying to watch. He’s gone skating a bunch in his past, so this is nothing new. You actually get to see a much softer and more energetic side of him, becase the second he touches the ice he’s gone, but he’ll come back for you after about 10 mintues asking where you went. He’ll be skating ahead of you, backwards so he can look at you. You won’t be able to keep up with him unless you’re holding onto him.

He’s so good about gifts, you can hand him a shopping bag full of his gifts and ask him to go put them in the bedroom so you can wrap them and he’ll do exactly that, no questions asked, no peeking. Just there and back asking if you need help with anything else. As for getting gifts, he’s surprisingly sweet about the stuff he gets for you. He’s not the best at wrapping, not by a long shot, but he tries fairly hard for you.

He honestly forgets about his own stocking until you hand it to him on Christmas, he just sorta stares at it for a second before he opens it. He won’t complain about anything you get him, it’s more than he thinks he deserves, but he does always appreciate more practical things. Snacks are very hit or miss for him. As for what he gets you, it’s a mix of practical and knick-knackk, he’ll take you to go get treats after Christmas when most of it goes on sale, that’s when it’s the best.

He doesn’t really care for or about advent calendars. Chocolate, puzzles, they’re all pretty eh to him. He’d rather save his to give to you later since he doesn’t have a big sweet-tooth. Chocolate is nice, sure, but he doesn’t really care for sweets and candies. Pastries on the other hand, are a guilty pleasure of his, get him a danish or a beaver tail and he’ll melt.

Kosho:

He’s the complete opposite of Kureha in the sense where he does anything for Christmas in the first place. He’ll decorate, he’ll get a bit festive, but he does keep it fairly subtle. Don’t expect him to go even close to the level that say Hanayama or Katsumi go to, but he is a happy medium. He even has a rug he puts by the door to get a bit more openly festive.

He’s open to doing most Christmas activities, sledding is fun, getting drinks and treats is an automatic yes, but caroling won’t happen. Over his dead body. You won’t manage to even bring it up, you get the first sylable out of your mouth and he’s already done listening. He won’t turn down apple cider though. If he does, assume that something is very wrong or that he’s been replaced.

He’s not bad at skating at all! He’s gone a few times when he was younger but it was never really his thing. He’ll stick by you pretty happily, especially if you can have cider on the ice. In that case it’s easily the best thing to do, going to skate, holding hands, and drinking cider. He will be laughing at the kids that fall flat on their faces though.

He’s the worst at gifts, because he’ll mess with the wrapping and you won’t even notice. He gets subtle with it, he’ll slice through the tape, so unless you get patterned tape that you keep hidden expect him to break into all of his gifts. He’s wicked good at wrapping too, so if he messes one up, which isn’t likely, he’ll just re-wrap it and you won’t know until he opens them in front of you and has like no reaction. He’s okay at getting you gifts, if you can tell him what you want he’ll get it for you as long as it’s within his price range, otherwise he might struggle a bit.

He’s bad with stocking suffers too, so unless you rig up his stocking he’ll absolutely get in there and see what he has. He really likes sweets and practical stuff, so mess with him by just filling his stocking with balls of old wrapping paper and he’ll realise that you’re onto him. Your stocking from his is just full of sweets. He expects you to share.

Advent calendars aren’t even safe. He’ll go along with them a day late so he has extra chocolate for Christmas day itself. No he’s not sharing, it’s not his fault that you don’t know the trick. He absolutely learned it from Kureha by the way. They both do this and it’s infuriating.

Kureha:

He’d prefer not to celebrate if he can avoid it, it’s just more cleaning in the long run, though he can’t deny that it is fun to get gifts, he’d rather not deal with the predatory donation seeking and all of the caroling. It annoys him to no end. He works in a hospital, you think he wants to hear any mention of a holiday where people are infamously nasty and usually also drunk? He can tell you horror stories that will permanently ruin the holidays (and some liquors) for you.

You mention getting a real Christmas tree and he shuts you down immediately. He’s not dealing with the mess of the needles and sap. He’s not doing it. He’ll get you as realistic of a fake tree as he can if you really beg, but that’s it. He will at least decorate and have drinks and snacks with you, but don’t expect him to do much else.

He can skate pretty well, he’s fairly graceful out on the ice, but he’ll probably get bored. That’s when you remind him that it’s either skating or going to work, and he’ll shut up real quick. Don’t expect him to jump in and help anyone if they fall. Unless there’s blood, and a lot of it, he’s not saying anything about him being a doctor, and if you don’t want the cold shoulder for a solid three days, you better not say anything either.

Gifts are his favourite part of Christmas! At least, getting them is. He’s kinda bad at giving gifts, but getting gifts is no problem. He’ll try for you, of course. It’s honestly better to just give him a list of things you want and he’ll look into it for you. He’s surprisingly easy to buy for though, he’s not super picky about gifts like one might think, he just likes getting gifts. It means that he was on your mind, and he loves being on your mind. He can wrap gifts pretty well, he’s good with his hands. Has to be, considering he’s a surgeon.

He’s really good about stocking stuffers. He puts a new item in yours every day until Chrismas eve, saving the biggest gift for the last day. It’s a lot of surprisingly sweet gifts and healthy little snacks he thinks you’ll enjoy. He enjoys some healthy snacks and more practical things, but get him a knick-knack and you’ll find it on his desk the next time you pop into his office, or hanging on his wall. Get him something for his nametag and he’ll use it.

He’s the same as Kosho when it comes to his advent calendar, but if he catches you copying him he’ll outright just steal your chocolate unless it’s milk chocolate. He doesn’t mind it as an occasional treat, but he much prefers dark chocolate. If you catch him he’s not even sorry, it’s your fault for trusting him around his favourite sweet treat.

Retsu:

He didn’t really do Christmas when he was younger, it wasn’t super popular at the temple, but now that he’s grown he’s fully embraced that he’s a Christmas adult, and he’s not sorry about it. He’ll decorate nice and subtle, because while he adores Christmas now, he doesn’t really care for an over abundance of decorations, he thinks it’s a bit ignorant to have too many, and too much of one colour gives him a headache.

He’s down to do almost every Christmas activity, but ask him to bake with you and he lights up. The kitchen is where he thrives, and if you give him the recipies and the ingredients, he’ll provide you with some really good food that you can enjoy. He’ll make a lot too, like, too much for just the two of you, so everyone in his appartment building gets a small basket, and he brings whatever is leftover to the underground arena for the other fighters to enjoy before or after their fights. Apple cider is a fast win for him, he adores it, especially if it’s fresh and warm.

He’s fairly graceful on the ice when he still has both legs, but he needs a bit more stability after he loses one. Either way, he’s sticking by your side, holding your hand and overall just having a really nice time doing some relaxed laps around the ring. Unfortunately for you though, you’ll get very warm because he insists that you bundle up.

He’s an angel about gifts. You could wrap his gifts right in front of him and he’ll just keep his eyes on whatever he’s doing, be it also wrapping yours (in which case he keeps the couch between the two of you) or cooking. Hell, he might even just be training a little. Whatever he’s doing, his attention is on that and not what you have in your hands. He likes to gift you things he knows that you’ll use, so expect some clothes and all that fun stuff. But sometimes he just gets you something because he thinks it’s nice and that you’d think it was cool.

Stocking stuffers are his one weakness, he can’t help but want to peek at what’s inside, though he’ll restrain himself. He doesn’t want to ruin the surprise, and he knows you’d be sad if he did peek. He likes practical things, but he won’t turn down snacks. As for what he gets you, it depends on the kind of year you’ve had. He’s very intuitive with his stocking stuffers.

Advent calendars with chocolate are nice, and he really likes the dark chocolate ones, but he won’t touch them until Christmas eve so he can use the chocolates to make something for the two of you to share. He doesnt’ mind, it means that he can see you smiling.

Doppo:

He’s such a stereotypical dad about Christmas it’s insane. He wasn’t that bad before he and Natsue adopted Katsumi, but he is terrible now. Constant puns and jokes, it doesn’t stop. He’s the kinda guy to wear the ugliest Christmas sweater you’ve ever seen and be proud of it. He and Natsue have Katsumi over for supper every year since he moved out, and he usually stays until the day after Christmas, then he hauls all his gifts home and doesn’t come by until new years, when they all have another big family dinner.

He’ll indulge in almost every Christmas activity you can think of. You wanna go sledding? He’ll go with you and drag Katsumi along. You wanna get some Hot Chocolate and sit by a fire? He’s down for that too. He’s happy to go along with whatever you and Natsue want to do. It’s the holidays and he’s not stingy about his time.

He, unlike Katsumi, isn’t the best at skating. He can do it, but he can really only skate slowly and stop, he’s not going to be racing you around the arena unless you piss him off enough, in which case, yeah, he’ll go after you, and poor Natsue will be stuck dealing with the two of you being way too boisterous. (She loves it)

He’s fine with gifts. He has patience, he knows good things are worth waiting for That being said, any big gifts are going to have his attention immediately and he’s going to pester you about said big gifts until he can open it. He’s very thoughtful with his gifts to you and Natsue, he wants the two loves of his life to be happy with what he gives them, and normally, you two will be very happy.

Stocking stuffers are always right for pranking. Prank him and he’ll love it, but prank each-other and it’s a glorious night where you both end up laughing so hard your ribs hurt. DO NOT open your stocking from Doppo in front of Katsumi, that’s a fast way to traumatise the poor man. He’ll get you something, whether it’s good, bad, or just downright hilarious is up to chance at that point honestly.

Get him a puzzle or model advent calendar, one of the big ones, he’ll be busy with it for hours once he gets all of the pieces. He’s a secret lover of puzzles and model kits. Anything he has to put together by hand is an automatic win. You’ll walk into the livingroom to do something and he’ll be there late at night, a light on, glasses equipped, slowly working on that puzzle or model kit. Getting him a Warhammer or Gundam kit would sweep him off his feet.

Natsue:

She likes Christmas a lot, she ropes you and Doppo into helping her Decorate about a week into December and you won’t regret it, because it winds up looking really good and being a really pleasant experience with two of your favourite people out there.

She’s down for literally any Christmas activity, be it just the two of you, all three of you, or just her and Doppo. At least once before Christmas though, she’d love to break out the hot chocolate platter and watch some movies. Bonus points if Katsumi is there, because the she has the three most important people in her life all together, getting along and having a good time.

She’s not bad at skating, but much like Doppo, she really only goes one speed. If you rile Doppo up he’ll chase after you, and usually she’ll wind up being used as a human sheild between you and her husband, and it won’t really work, as a heads up. She’ll let him get you with no hesitation.

She’s great at gift wrapping, if you need help you ask her and she’ll show you as many times as you need until you get it down. She doesn’t want a lot of gifts, never does, but somehow she winds up having the most. It’s just easy to see something and go “Yeah, Natsue would really like that!” She gives you some of the most heart melting gifts too, she’s good at doing that. Let her get a gift for each of the usual arena fighters and I guarantee you even Hanayama will start tearing up with how thoughtful her gifts are.

Stockings from Natsue are always safe, in sharp contrast to Doppo. She gets you an even mix between snacks, knick-knacks and practical stuff. You get at least one piece of jewlery from her in your stocking by the way.

Natsue likes advent calendars, she thinks they’re neat. Get her any kind and she’s perfectly happy, but if she expresses an interest in starting a new hobby around Christmas, you can and absolutely should look into getting an advent calender with supplies for said hobby in it, she’d melt.

Motobe:

He’s quiet in his enjoyment of the holidays in general, but he won’t lie, Christmas isn’t his absolute favourite. He’ll put up a few decorations (or more realistically, he’ll convince someone from his dojo to do that for him), but he doesn’t really do much about Christmas.

He’ll indulge in more laid-back Christmas activities, but anything more energetic is usually a polite no from him. He doesn’t mind, but depending on the weather and what it is, he might have to tell you no and suggest an alternative instead.

Skating is a really relaxed affair with him. Unlike Doppo, he maintains his one speed with you, and it doesn’t matter if you try and rile him up, he’s pretty patient. He mostly just wants to skate around and hold your hand, enjoy the weather and each-other’s company.

He’s good about gifts. Hell, he’ll even help you wrap his stuff if you let him. At the very least, he’ll help you put stuff away under the tree. He doesn’t really mind secrets, and he’s not really one for surprises, but he understands if you want to surprise him with whatever you got him. His gifts to you are usually pretty fun I won’t lie. Man will full on get you a good knife for Christmas every year that you’re together. Lessons on how to use that knife come without charge.

He will outright tell you to be careful with his stocking to you. He’ll put god knows what in there, and honestly, the thought is really sweet, but opening a stocking to several sharp and dangerous objects is very jarring. Especially considering that beneath all the weapons will be really sweet gifts and candies. He outright tells you he prefers practical things in his stocking, and while he won’t refuse a gift, if he doesn’t think it’s useful it’ll just sorta sit in this little cubby he has in his room.

Advent calendars are fun, he’ll accept any one you can get him, but dark chocolate and model kids are popular with him, especially if it’s a proper model kit of old battleships and fighter planes. Your advent calendar from him, shockingly enough, usually is a perfume calendar (unless you’re allergic).

Shibukawa:

Mischeivious old man will take every opportunity to rub the fact that it’s getting to be Christmas in the face of every young fighter he meets. They start charging him? “Well, I know who’s going to be on the naughty list!” It gives them just enough pause that his crazy old man act completely drops and he whoops them so hard they legitimately need to take a break.

He’s good to do almost any Christmas activity as long as it’s not too cold out, his old bones can’t really take the cold as well as they used to. Either way, toss a heavy coat at him and he’ll stop his grumbling and drop the act. He expects you to dress up as much as he does though, so don’t think you can get away with wearing a coat less thick than his.

He’ll skate, sure! He’s not bad at it either, he’s pretty graceful.Given the chance he’ll zip around the ring once or twice before he comes up to you expecting you to hold his hand and hang around him for a surprisingly wholesome moment with him, free from his pranking and mischief. That being said, if a kid eats it in fornt of him, he’s going to laugh.

He’ll peek at his gifts out of sheer spite if you ask him to behave. And he’ll do it blatantly too. Don’t worry, he’ll tear the wrapping off while the gift is still in a bag or something so he doesn’t actually know what it is. His gifts are fun, admittedly. They’re real good too. The first one he hands you will always have you snorting so hard you give yourself a headache. He doesn’t expect you to keep that one, he’s just happy he can catch you off-guard.

Stocking stuffers are sacred to him. He gets you the sweetest most tear-jerking gift in that stocking and it’ll be the very last ting you find because he deliberately stuffs it way into the toe. It’s enough to make you cry, and for once, he’ll be nice and not tease you about it right away. He’ll wait a week, at least. He’ll take anything you give him, but fun little tools of mischeif are always appreciated. He’s got a collection that started from when he was young, it’s honestly impressive.

His favourite advent calendars are, in fact, candy ones, if only so he can be that kind old grandpa that hands kids a candy, only for it to be the most sour thing in existence. He’ll troll the neighbourhood kids so hard, but don’t worry, it’s a mutual prank war.

Tokugawa:

He loves Christmas, his entire home gets decorated for Christmas, and he even tries to gussy the arena up a little bit. Once Jack came around, he convinced him and Baki to help him hang an upside-down tree from the ceiling near the lights, it was a great source of confusion for quite some time.

He’ll do his best to convince the fighters to come participate in Christmas activities with him, and if you’re one of the fighters then you’re no exception. If he can’t bring them to Christmas though, he’ll bring Christmas to them in the form of Christmas drinks being served to them before and after fights. He often bonds with the other hot chocolate enjoyers about the richer flavoured ones.

He absolutely loves going skating, but including the fighters in it is a bit messy. Between the younger fighters getting a bit chaotic and the others that may be present, he usually takes shelter with the older fighters or Hanayama, who tends to stay fairly calm. Once Jack gets the initial “I need to go” out of his system though, he’s happy to hitch a ride. He hasn’t ever gone that fast over ice and it’s absolutely thrilling to him, though he doesn’t get to enjoy that long before Baki insists on racing his big brother and he’s relegated back to skating on his own two feet.

Gifts are fun with Tokugawa. He makes it clear that has favourite fighters, and they often get gifts from him, though what he doesn’t ever expect is another gift in return. Sometimes it’s a stunning match dedicated to him, and other times it’s an actual gift. Upon learning that he was a hot chocolate lover, Jack got some of the good stuff from Canada, and Doppo got him a brand new pipe.

Stocking stuffers from Tokugawa are fun, because he leaves one on each changing room door. They’re refilled for each contestant that fights, so everyone gets at least one. It’s not a lot, but it’s something that they’ll all use and appreciate. Most of the time it’s a first aid kit, just to be on the safe side, but sometimes it’s a little something to show his appreciation.

Tokugawa has a lot of time on his hands when he’s not planning fights or tournaments, he pays people to do the simpler stuff, so he enjoys picking up new hobbies. Puzzle advents are popular with him, especially if you can get custom puzzles. Getting the main fighters to agree to take a picture for Tokugawa to be turned into a puzzle isn’t the easiest thing, but they’ll all eventually cave in and agree to it.

#baki the grappler #baki son of ogre #baki dou #grappler baki #baki headcanons #baki hanma #kozue matsumoto #hanayama kaoru #chiharu shiba #katsumi orochi #jack hanma #kosho shinogi #kureha shinogi #retsu kaioh #doppo orochi #natsue orochi #motobe izou #shibukawa gouki #tokugawa mitsunari

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oathkeeper-of-tarth · 19 days

Text

Isobel, Before

On something of a whim I decided to compile, in chronological order, the flashback segments from Isobel's POV that are woven throughout Moon-chosen, Moon-guided. I was curious how they'd read, and it turns out I quite like how they do - so here they are posted as a standalone little prequelish thing, a series of windows into a developing relationship and some family drama. This includes the segment I wrote for the upcoming third chapter, so consider it a sneak peek of an update that will take me a little while longer because it decided to develop a plot or some such nonsense, you know how it is. The years are my own very rough guesses, trying to somehow work around the Spellplague while keeping it all approximately a century before the main plot of the game, so don't take them too seriously.

Fandom: Baldur’s Gate 3 Characters: Dame Aylin/Isobel Thorm, Ketheric Thorm Length: ~8000 words Rating: M, for canon-typical violence (including temporary character death) and sexual content

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1381 DR

It is an unusually warm and bright summer day for Reithwin, the relentless sun urging you to rush your errands around town and make your way home to the merciful shade. And it is upon your return there that you find the glorious Dame Aylin laying waste to an army of training dummies in the otherwise empty practice field beneath Moonrise Towers.

You steal a moment to watch and appreciate the spectacle that is her entire being in perfectly orchestrated motion, uncharacteristically free of her ever-polished armour, sleeves rolled up - a vision of ferocity, even if it is against such laughably unworthy foes.

It calls to your mind, amusingly, the poor announcer in your father's audience chamber a little over a month ago, so very unusually formal and far too visibly nervous, struggling to rattle off one too many titles.

The Valiant Dame Aylin Silverblood, Undefeated Sword of the Moonmaiden, Paladin and Daughter of Selûne. Arriving as formal Emissary of Our Lady of Silver, speaking in Her name.

She turns when she hears you clearing your throat to announce your presence, an indulgent while after your arrival. Ever so slightly out of breath, with a subtle sheen of sweat on her radiant brow, she inclines her head with respect. "Ah! Lady Isobel. I was just thinking of sending to fetch you. A request, if you please."

"Of course, Dame Aylin." Anything for the resplendent emissary, you want to add, only half-teasingly. It is frustratingly difficult not to act a smitten fool around her, and sarcasm has proved a feeble defence from her charms.

Her request, however, is nowhere near anything you might have anticipated.

"I would have you meet me in the sparring ring, if you are willing."

You blink. "I-- pardon?"

"You are no mere lord's daughter, nor are you simply the demure local healer. I can tell by your bearing you have training. Not the typical mace of the clergy, no," she hums, as if in thought, looking you up and down quite brazenly, appraisingly. "The rapier, perhaps, along with a dagger for the offhand? No, rather, the quarterstaff--"

"The spear," you cut her off. And the lofty, approving tilt of her chin is so fetching as to be insufferable. "I can protect myself, you're right. My father is an accomplished general, after all," and stiflingly overprotective to boot, but that part you bite back and keep to yourself. "It is only fitting. Besides, any devotee of Our Lady knows how important it is to be able to fend for oneself."

"Show me, then, general's daughter," she gestures to the packed-dirt training ring with a grin. "I grow quite bored of this straw-filled wicker regiment I have been pitted against."

She's got a good head and a half of height on you. Her reach outclasses yours quite overwhelmingly. She is visibly broad and strong and unshakeable as a mighty fortress. And though you do indeed have training, the martial arts were hardly your main focus - very much unlike her.

A challenge, truly, but one you cannot help but suddenly crave.

"Fine, then, I accept." A giddiness washes over you as you speak, and your head feels oddly light. The heat and humidity of the day, surely. Treading dangerous ground, Isobel.

Aylin immediately goes over to the training weapon racks to put away the blunt sword she has been using, and you follow her.

"I have trained in arms of all sorts, but I find I most favour the greatsword," she muses as she rummages, retrieving two wooden staves with padded ends, testing their weight. "The spear I must confess I have neglected somewhat, in recent times."

You smirk as she hands you a staff that has evidently passed inspection. "There is no need for excuses, Dame Aylin. When I trounce you, I assure you it will have been fair and square and well deserved."

You expect the hearty bellow of her laugh, some lively banter in return, an exclamation, Ho! Instead, she inclines her head in a respectful gesture, and does so with a surprisingly soft smile and oddly inscrutable gaze in your direction. "I would expect no less of you, my lady."

You look away hastily, wipe the sweat from your hands and put on the leather gloves from your belt. The day has been far too hot for them and the afternoon sun is still beating down fiercely, but you are not about to embarrass yourself and risk losing on the technicality of a splinter.

Then, you face each other.

Her stance and the way she holds the wooden training weapon speak of years, decades… centuries of experience, perhaps. It is hard to truly imagine, and you find you do not really know. Immortal, yes, but… well, since when? Does she have a universe of deeds and escapades on you, a hundred lives lived to the fullest, or merely the knowledge that they lie ahead of her?

When could it possibly be polite to ask such a thing?

You shake away the distraction of your thoughts, just in time to block a quick, testing blow aimed at your own weapon. A tease, really, hoping for a reaction you know well enough not to provide.

She continues with the probing attacks, none of them with any real force behind them, and you think how under normal circumstances it might be a good strategy to let your opponent waste her strength and tire herself out like this - but you know better. You have discreetly observed enough of her training sessions to know that if she is anything at all she is tireless.

But she is leaving it up to you to attempt anything other than these light provocations. So you do - you would hate to disappoint, after all.

You strike out high at her head, once, twice, then at her front leg, swift as a viper, and when she moves her weapon down to parry, you jab at her shoulder and step back in time to avoid the afterblow.

"Oh-ho! An excellent feint, perfectly executed!" The joy that lights her face even as she rolls the struck shoulder is so infectious, you can't help but laugh breathlessly, warmed by this small triumph. "I was indeed correct in my assumption - the most noble Lady Isobel is not to be underestimated. Her skills and merit extend far beyond even the lofty requirements of her duties - be they of the court or of the faith."

The next strike you attempt, flushed with both the heat of the day and the effusive praise, is met with far more resistance, and soon you are exchanging blows with vigour. She repays your shoulder blow with a tap to your hip, then tries to strike the staff from your hands in a disarm you just barely avoid with a well-timed tilt.

Your next attempt at a feint is parried at the very last moment, but you do not retreat, and so you end in a bind. She is much stronger than you, yes, but your angle is superior, and you can see her straining to stay in position, close to that ever-important centreline, and keep her balance. A bead of sweat trails down her neck to her collarbone, and it takes you a moment to realise you are following it, rapt. It takes you another moment to register she is staring at you just as raptly, even as you feel your hair sticking to your temples and realise the paint around your eyes is likely a smudged mess.

Distraction. An opening if you've ever seen one.

"Do you know, when I heard an emissary of Selûne was coming to our town, I did not expect her to have a bard's silver tongue on her." Instead of moving to disengage and putting distance between you, you draw even closer to her, until your mouth is almost at her ear. "In more ways than one, perhaps?"

Her eyes are wide and her cheeks are flushed silver, shining. It is the oddest and most captivating blush you have ever seen, made only more so by the closeness of your study.

And of course, the moment of distraction proves sufficient for that slight shift you needed. The great oak topples with so little effort - leverage, always, the key. Her reaction is faster than you anticipated, however, and so with the force of her riposte you go down right after her. Foolish of you, really - the thought has time to rush through your mind as your sense of balance disappears - to underestimate an accomplished paladin so.

In any case, within moments, Aylin is on the ground, and you land atop her. You have enough presence of mind, somehow, despite the proximity and the warmth and the, well-- to reach for where your weapon started to roll away and press the end of it lightly against her neck. "Yield?"

She raises her hands, palms up in surrender, and nods, struck speechless for once.

You scramble rather gracelessly to your feet in all your triumph, and offer her a hand up. She accepts, then somewhat disappointingly lets go to dust herself off before you've had a chance to fully appreciate the feel of her hand in yours.

"Well!" Aylin turns the bright glint of her full attention on you, charmingly tousled still. "I see no point in struggling to prolong a losing battle. A challenge, skillfully won." She steps closer to you and inclines her head in a slight bow. "Besides, I can tell my yielding on the field of battle pleases you, and I am not one to deny a lady her pleasure."

All of it spoken with a smile, and a shockingly honest, unmasked, open, and entirely unabashed look in her eyes. Damn her.

You do your best, feebly, to catch your breath and return to something resembling calm propriety. And you fail to squash a niggling doubt. "Thank you for the bout, Dame Aylin. But… honestly now, were you holding back?"

"Only as much as is appropriate for the training ring, of course. One is never to exert one's full might in these circumstances, as you well know." She shakes her head, a small frown furrowing her brow, and you can't help but feel this is a recitation she has been made to repeat until it stuck, something she had to deliberately become aware of after getting carried away one too many times. A thought to file away for later, perhaps. "But not in the sense you doubtlessly meant, no. I would not pretend and deceive after asking a fair duel of you. Such things are beneath Dame Aylin."

The heat floods your cheeks again. Damn her phrasing.

"Ah," she clears her throat. "The day has grown too hot for martial pursuits, I fear - let us retire."

She offers you her arm, ever gallant. You allow yourself the bold indiscretion of taking it only after you have peeled off your gloves and tucked them back in your belt. You've not known Dame Aylin for a very long time, but you are well aware she is possibly the least subtle creature in all of Faerûn. The ill-concealed catch in her breath and stiffening in her shoulders as your skin meets hers is a treasured token you stow away for further contemplation.

It is a regrettably short walk to the pleasantly shaded entrance hall of Moonrise.

1382 DR

Sharran forces dare attack even here, in the shadow of your father's moonlit fortress, in the very heart of a famously devoted Selûnite region. Perhaps they heard, or tortured out of some poor soul, that their hated Moonwitch had sent an emissary.

But the emissary does not seem to be quite what they expected or prepared for.

You've heard of Dame Aylin's exploits, of some of the many glorious deeds to her name - well, to be quite honest, you've deliberately asked around for them and chased down all the tales, however ridiculous they seemed, with somewhat concerning single-mindedness. But none of them, not even the most outrageous exaggerations with all the force of poetic licence behind them, can compare to actually seeing her in the heat of battle.

It is certainly dangerous to be so distracted in the midst of a clearly planned and organised assault on your home, and it is especially egregious to keep looking up, chasing a vision as it flies somewhere high above all of you, soaring over the head of your father's statue gracing the centre of the embattled town square. But she is so utterly glorious and radiant and filled with unquestionable purpose in all that she does, and you are utterly beyond help.

"Selûne, Moonmother, in Your name!" The clear voice suddenly rings out from somewhere close by, drowning out the din of battle in your ears. You turn just in time to see a flash of silver light engulf one of the masked attackers, burnished black disks brazenly displayed on their armour, and, well, you are not the only one smitten.

But then - disaster. Three of Moonrise's most recently recruited silver-bedecked guards find themselves stumbling into a group of enemies that close a circle around them. You see one of them fall, gripped by inky-purple strands, before you can even start to intone a spell; another one loses his footing and opens himself up for a deadly blow.

Quick as lightning, Aylin rushes down and forward, pushing the stumbling guard fully out of the way. Instead of him, the cultist's scimitar finds purchase in her gut, sliding through a gap between armour-plates like butter, and another's obsidian-black axe bites into her shoulder.

The sound it makes, that Aylin makes, draws a shout from you. A bolt of moonlight dispatches the first cultist, rage and terror somehow making your aim uncanny, and you step forward to bathe the rest of his nearby comrades in deadly, burning radiance before he has even hit the ground.

After this, the battle is over as quickly as it had begun. The last of the attackers falls on her own blade rather than be captured and questioned, crying out some pitiful, ill-conceived mantra about secrets.

You find you do not care: your world, for the moment, has sunk down to the breadth of one woman lying on the trampled ground in a distressingly rapidly growing pool of silver, the guards she saved hovering around her in a mix of awe and alarm.

They let you through without hesitation - you are a cleric, after all. A healer. But as you drop to your knees at her side and attempt to assess the damage, you can tell you are too late.

Your hands fly in well-practised movements all the same.

"Do not worry, fearsome, fair Isobel," Aylin manages, breathily, barely audible, around a mouthful of blood. Her hand makes a very weak attempt at a dismissive wave, or grabbing your wrist to stop your ministrations, you cannot quite tell. Her helmet and her wings are both already gone, and the silver burning in her gaze just moments ago is a weak flicker. "I--"

Her eyes flutter closed and she falls limp beneath your hands and you--

--do not have time to even begin to comprehend what has happened before she is gasping awake again, coughing and groaning, spitting up a clot, trying to sit up.

You gape for a moment, then help her in her efforts, lean her against your chest. The weight of the armour feels like it might crush you, but moving away feels unthinkable.

"No tears, no," she mumbles, half-coherently, as you strain to understand, as a gauntleted hand reaches up to brush against your cheek clumsily. "So mundane a blow cannot… truly fell… Dame Aylin."

It is one thing to be aware of it in theory. Another thing entirely to witness it. Immortal.

There is a crowd gathered around you by now, you register faintly. People crying out prayers of praise and thanks to the Moonmaiden, for Her infinite wisdom and Her endless gifts and the indomitable daughter-champion She has blessed you all with. You feel a tug in your chest, like you should be joining in; like you would be the one leading the prayer in ordinary circumstances.

But you feel terribly far away from it all even as Aylin's breath grows more steady as she leans against you. You see her smile, still bloody, and understand only the most general sense of the reassuring platitudes she is whispering at you.

You bring her to the House of Healing with the other wounded of the battle and insist rather possessively on treating her yourself. Only afterwards do you tear yourself away from her bedside to take full stock of damage and casualties while she sleeps it off.

Your father rushes to embrace you tightly as soon as he catches sight of you from the House's grand entrance, and you let yourself cling to him for a moment. You do your best to assuage his worries, claim - lie - that you were in no real danger, insist on continuing to help here where you are most needed as he returns to his gubernatorial duties. And somehow, miraculously, he lets you go.

As you help the dutiful sisters with the worst of it, you finally manage to focus on murmuring your own prayer of thanks. It helps clear the long-clinging fog from your mind. And it helps, truly, that you count no deaths among Reithwin's faithful - the only fallen today are Shar's to claim if she deigns to do so.

Well - and then there's Aylin.

You go to check on her in the morning, after you've managed - been forced into, rather - a very brief nap.

The glorious and apparently unconquerable Dame Aylin is awake, reclining against the headboard of the only occupied bed in that wing. You don't recall requesting she receive any special treatment, and she doesn't look too pleased with being singled out as if in a place of honour - in fact, she mostly looks bored. She is frowning down at herself, plucking at loose threads hanging off of the bandages that cover most of her shoulder, chest, and abdomen - your own handiwork.

You step into the room and set down the basin of fresh water and an assortment of healing supplies with a deliberately loud clatter, jarring her out of her reverie. The moment she sees you, an expression of blatant joy dawns on her face. You try very hard not to read too much into it.

Instead, you make very standard proper-bedside-manner-dictated small talk as you peel away the gauze. The wounds are mostly healed, as you would expect from your application of any and all magic you had remaining that night, but there is a small line of gold running down towards her left side, where the blade bit in and through, and another one cupping across her shoulder. Oddly beautiful for what is presumably a scar - and highlighting the marvellous build of a finely muscled torso, pipes up a segment of your mind that has no place around a sickbed.

You wrench yourself back into professionalism and lightly press down with your fingers, following the shining gold, the freshly knit-together skin, still reddened and bruised in places. "Do you feel any pain when I do this?"

"None at all," Aylin answers resolutely, entirely back to her old self. But then- "Ah," she winces as you find a particularly sore spot, expression wry, "it would appear I spoke too soon."

You trace back up, murmuring incantations, letting the cool, healing relief flow from your fingertips.

The way she is unphased by all of this seems… uncanny. In fact, she shows more concern for you, completely untouched by the battle, than for herself. It is oddly and slightly frighteningly flattering, in retrospect, that she used her dying breath - well, this particular dying breath - to reassure you.

And it all makes much more sense now, as things slot into place. The recklessness of her fighting style, of her whole manner. The way she shrugged off blows and rushed ever forward, where the battle was thickest and fiercest.

But now you've seen she is immortal, yes, but not invulnerable, however much she might like to act like she is both. And if she pulls herself out from literal death, no matter the scope of the wounds, she does not seem to magically heal much past that - the evidence is before you now. You can already picture her merely patching herself up with her own healing magic in the middle of the fray, as if in passing, just enough to enable her to storm on. All while her enemies gape and turn tail when they realise the futility of standing against her.

"I only hope you did not worry overmuch, Lady Isobel. It is in my nature, inextricable from my being. I cannot fall, not truly. But I keep the reminders, sometimes - wrought in gold."

Then she very cordially points out a few more, as if to indulge you. Some bigger, some smaller, some thin lines, barely there, some wide and jagged. But all of them bright gold seams, seamlessly integrated into her skin.

"Why not silver?" You blurt out, then feel your face burn with embarrassment. And then a mild but growing horror as you think back to the silver staining your hands and robes as you knelt on the damp cobblestones. This is in turn chased away by an odd warmth as you recall how she murmured your name and reached for your face.

Aylin, however, guffaws joyfully, stopped short only by a sudden wince as she pulls something still tender.

"Would you believe - I do not know? It is simply how I am, how I have always been. Perhaps I shall ask my Mother to elucidate, when next we commune." Then she beams at you. "What a joy and pleasure you have proven to be, Lady Isobel. To make me consider things about myself I have never had cause nor inclination to before. A rare treasure."

You blame your lack of sleep on the ease with which she is managing to fluster you without even seeming to consciously try, so you do your best to keep your response polite and nothing more. "The pleasure is all mine, I assure you, Dame Aylin. All of Reithwin treasures your presence and is grateful for it, especially after tonight."

She looks up at you and you meet her gaze, pausing in your ministrations. She looks disappointed, if anything, and the disappointment is shared - those are not the words you truly wish to say to her. And you cannot quite explain to yourself why you feel like a sudden distance has sprung up between you, after months of a beautifully built-up rapport, laid on the foundations of those first few shared star-struck gazes. Why this one out of all the many reminders of her divine nature has shaken you so.

As you continue reapplying bandages and keep distractedly checking in with her about the tightness, she catches your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. "My wounds are a distant memory, for they are being tended by fair Isobel--"

There is a naked determination writ all over her face now. It brings to mind her battlefield bearing, more than anything else, but her eyes are wide and soft and almost pleading.

"Truly, I am in the best of hands." A kiss again, and she lets the hand go. It is a perfectly polite and courteous gesture. Nothing… scandalous. But there is a clear ardour to it you did not acknowledge before. Calling attention to a line you have not yet crossed, but that you have both, perhaps, been toeing for a while.

Then she moves to sit up fully, even through visible winces, and shrugs off the steadying hand you place on her shoulder.

"You are the worst patient I have ever had," you state dramatically, laughing. She merely cocks her head in response, so very winning and charming even when still covered in blood, dirt, and partially unravelled bandages. "I will go get some more fresh water so you can clean up - though we've already ruined these sheets, I fear."

But you do not move, despite your words. Your eyes have not left hers in what seems like hours, but can't have been more than a minute. There is a blatant yearning there that you know is reflected in your gaze, that you have both become utterly incapable of hiding.

"I would ask, greedily, another boon of my most gracious healer," she murmurs.

"Oh?" You lean closer, ostensibly to hear her quiet words better. "Why, Dame Aylin, after your valiant performance tonight, I might just grant it."

You are almost nose to nose when Aylin speaks up again, her throat visibly working, her entire impressive self working up the courage to leap the distance - and you find you very much want her to.

"A kiss, then. To drink but once from the lips of the incomparable Lady Isobel Thorm would soothe all that ails me, seal all my wounds."

You watched this woman take an axe to the shoulder and a sword through the belly, and only now does she sound hesitant. Nervous. Afraid, even. The smallest of trembles in that rich, regal voice.

"If… if I have misread, if I have misinterpreted your intentions, I beg your forgiveness with all possible contrition…"

Your reply is wordless as you surge forward, boon happily granted. The first of many to come.

1383 DR

The dinner is only slightly awkward, as far as these affairs have gone in the past. The most notable thing about it is that your father, it seems, has learned from last time.

Oh, Lady Arianella Bormul was lovely - the very picture of elegance and rather breathtaking grace. A crown of curls you felt a stab of envy over, a perfectly cut gown that accentuated every curve of her and every dark blush shade of her skin. Carrying herself like a queen in the dining room, but perfectly polite and amicable in the conversations you two were inevitably forced into afterwards, with intriguing flashes of a cutting wit. But you shared so very little. And she was beautiful like a work of art whose objective qualities everyone agreed upon, you included, but that just were not to your personal taste.

Now you wonder just how obvious you'd made it.

As your father shoots you pointed glances from across the table and over a strategically placed carafe of wine, you allow yourself, briefly, an entire slew of unkind thoughts. About how maybe things would be different if your mother were still here. About how much easier it would be if you had siblings, so that the entire future of Reithwin and the Thorm family and your father's heart didn't rest on your shoulders. About how selfish you truly would like to be.

Then you shove it all back down and smile at the guests around the table, and offer your opinion about the most excellent skills of your local mason's guild and their potential for expansion.

The young Lady Jana Whitburn is strategically sat right across from you, as her father and yours conduct the important conversations on venison and marble and slate trade that this visit was ostensibly arranged for. She is tall and broad and clad in a marvellously fetching brocade suit of dark green. Her mother, rather obviously focused on you since their arrival in what is clearly a tactical division of duties agreed upon in advance, talks about Jana's successes in the tournament arenas across the Coast and her pending performance in Waterdeep's Field of Triumph. She herself, in a pleasantly deep yet melodic voice, mentions being interested in jousting, as a means of keeping her riding skills sharp while she is not out and about keeping her family's lands safe. Tilts her head at you with a winning smile at the conclusion of one adventurous story or other, the sharp cut of her chiselled jaw accentuated in perfect candlelight. You smile back, and poke half-heartedly at your tasteless dessert.

Later, you take her for a walk in Reithwin's small but well-kept gardens. She very gallantly offers you her arm, and you take it. Your father and her parents beam, and you contain your sigh. But when you look up at your companion, you are slightly surprised to notice that there is something brewing behind her eyes as well.

As soon as you are out of eyesight and earshot, you stop, take your hand off her arm and turn to face her.

"My apologies, Lady Whitburn…"

She almost winces when you address her, and shakes her head as if she is trying to physically shake off the formality and the trailing remnants of the dinner atmosphere. "Jana, please, Lady Thorm."

"Jana, then," you smile your most agreeable smile, "and so I must be Isobel, no?"

"Of course, Isobel," she smiles back, but it is clearly strained, and you feel nothing so much as pity.

"Listen, Jana, I…" you hesitate, struggling to put your words into polite, inoffensive shape.

All this does is highlight the lack of Aylin, the lack of the connection and utterly natural understanding between the two of you. The ease. Even when there was supposed to be some fundamental and unbridgeable rift between you, according to your father.

"I'm afraid my father has misled you and your family - not out of any desire to harm, nor with ill intent. But, you see, I… I already have a lovely woman courting me. Well, rather further along than mere courting, I would say…"

To your surprise, Jana bursts into laughter, light and clear, and you are spared the embarrassment of elaborating further.

"Isobel, you cannot believe what a relief that is for me to hear."

You pause, a bit taken aback by the enthusiasm of her response. "Oh?"

"I'm afraid I count myself taken as well. Now, make no mistake, you are perfectly charming, and a delight in conversation. But," she waves a dismissive hand, "the heart wants what it wants and all that."

"That it does," you agree, and this time your smile is genuine. A tension you had gotten so used to seems to melt away from your shoulders, and the two of you resume your stroll among the gardener's latest offerings. "My father, well… he's a shrewd man. You and my Aylin would get along splendidly, I think."

"As would you and my Iona. She is training to be a cleric too, an acolyte of Ilmater. I swear, the realms have never seen a more patient and kind creature. Whenever I visit her at the temple I take a moment to observe her finishing her rounds - the way she all but glows with compassion is-" Jana halts both her words and her steps, slightly embarrassed, as if she has only now caught herself in her charmingly lovestruck enthusing. "Ah, but I've gone off on a tangent, haven't I?"

You cannot help but smile at the sight of someone so utterly, beautifully enamoured. It is, after all, a feeling you happily know all too well.

"Please," you gesture at a bench behind some conveniently tall rose bushes - one of your favourite spots. "Don't stop on my account. Though, of course, now I can't help but wonder… what is your family's objection to the match? If you don't mind me asking."

Jana gives a wry smile as she takes a seat. "My parents would prefer someone of much higher birth for me."

"I think mine would prefer I set my sights lower," you chuckle ruefully.

Jana's interest seems to be piqued. "Is that so? I've heard some… rumours, since our arrival. I've been wondering about, well, what kernel of truth spawned them."

"Have you, now?" You arch an eyebrow, allow a bit of bite into your tone. "You've barely been here a day - I wouldn't have taken you for a gossipmonger."

"You'll have to forgive my natural curiosity," her grin is as easily charming as it was during the dinner, but now, in the unexpectedly pleasant atmosphere of friendly understanding, you allow yourself to fully appreciate it, and to grin back. "But you must admit it's a bit unusual, Isobel. A celestial paramour… I suppose your father wants you to look lower than the very moon in the sky?"

Her dramatic gesture in the general direction of said moon earns her a giggle, which she seems to take as encouragement.

"Is it true she single-handedly took on a score of Nightcloaks and won?"

You think back over the many rousing tales of victory Aylin has shared with you, and when nothing rings a bell you realise she must be talking about the raid last spring.

"You mean here, when the Sharrans dared to attack Reithwin?" It's hard to contain your amusement at her eager nod. "Well, it wasn't exactly single-handed and there were no Nightcloaks among the Sharran forces, but I can confirm she was certainly impressive."

You decide to leave out the part about Aylin dying and coming back right before your eyes. It is something you've yet to discuss with her, more than a full year later. Something you've no idea how to bring up, and something that inspires in you feelings you cannot quite define.

Something you know you will have to confront, one day.

For now, you sit on a secluded bench and shirk familial duties with a fellow highborn daughter. The two of you trade stories for the rest of the evening, and by the end of it you feel like you've known both Jana Whitburn and Iona Bluewater for years, and find yourself rather invested in the future of their relationship. In turn, you hope to have painted a picture of an Isobel who is more than just General Thorm's daughter, and of an Aylin who is something besides her divine silver bloodline.

You part amicably when the time comes, even promise to write to one another. Later on, the leave-takings complete, both of you having played your respective parts well enough to buy yourselves some very brief reprieve, you go to retreat to your room. Every stair you climb still seems to drop your heart that much deeper into a listless moroseness.

The air in your room is heavy and stale after the garden's freshness, so you decide to take your brooding out to your balcony. You may have won a friend today, but your father will be in a dour mood when he finds out his attempt has once again fallen through. And then how long until he plans another? Or turns to something else? No, this was simply untenable--

A gleaming Aylin alights on the balcony and pulls you into an embrace in a single, elegant movement, and it is like a moon rising to dispel the dark of a cloudy night.

The first thing you notice as you are subjected to one kiss after another is that your beloved seems to be of a rather amorous disposition. You still wear your jewels and your finest silver-blue gown, the picture-perfect lady. But with the way Aylin's hands are wandering you sense this might not be the case for very long.

You place a hand on her chest, the metal pleasantly cool against your palm, and she stops, looking at you both questioningly and with blatant yearning.

Which should be ridiculous. You were barely apart for a day! You've gone longer without seeing each other whenever Aylin flew away on some divinely ordained quest. But the feelings you read on her face are a perfect reflection of your own, and you are sick of the very thought of denying them. Instead, you throw your arms around her and draw her close once more.

"I missed you," you murmur the truth into her neck, just above the edge of her gorget, into that bit of unearthly pale skin that is always so conveniently available for you to kiss.

"I have dutifully stayed away, exactly as you bade me to," Aylin doesn't sound too disgruntled, and for that you find yourself both grateful and relieved. "But your guests are gone at long last, and so I consider my duty done."

You suppress a scowl at the bitterness that rises in you - because yes, you did pull Aylin aside and request, against the palpable wishes of every fibre of your being, that she not show herself around Moonrise today. All in the ultimately futile pursuit of appeasing your father, in a way so shallow and childish and stupidly, obviously temporary that you feel a flare of anger - disgust, even - at yourself for not standing your ground. For going along with it all in the first place. But the slight yet audible disdain Aylin puts on the word guests is too conspicuous, too intriguing, and so your curiosity trumps your rising guilt.

"Do you have something against the Whitburn family?" Surely, if there was something objectionable about them, your father wouldn't have invited them the way he did. Aylin would have warned you of anything sinister. But then, suddenly, a different, more darkly amusing flavour of thought arises. "Or do you merely not like Lady Jana Whitburn?"

Aylin huffs, tilts her head with an unconvincing nonchalance. "She seems a fine woman. A knight with several deeds to her name - in particular some courageous outings against a local Cyricist offshoot, very recently. I hear she conducted herself with utmost skill and bravery."

"You've looked into her, I see?" You ask teasingly. Aylin's frown is an entire hundred-page novel. "Aylin. Are you jealous?"

The tinge of possessiveness in the way she holds you against her chest is clear to you now. You also find you have no complaint to give.

"I cannot help but feel this latest attempted match is… rather shrewdly targeted. Do you not find it so? Why, I would near take it as a slight."

With some reluctance, you pull away the slightest bit in order to face her properly.

"Aylin, look at me," you tilt her chin up, make her meet your eyes, reaching over to smooth the thundercloud frown away from her brow. "Forget about it, about them. I would have none but you - you know this by now, I hope. Only you."

Forever, you dearly wish you could say, sometimes. Your fingers trace down her cheek and to her lips as you watch her ire pour back into fervour.

"Isobel, I swear, from the moment our eyes first met, I--"

You interrupt her with a kiss - she is too striking and too beautiful and too achingly, passionately devoted not to.

The entire situation is a problem to solve, and a mounting one. You can tell by your own rising annoyance and resentment each time the subject comes up that you cannot entertain your father's attempts at denying your relationship for much longer. But you can sense in both your and Aylin's current moods that any discussion will be anything but productive.

You break apart, but stay close enough for you to whisper against her mouth. "Why don't we stop wasting time, and instead of wallowing in misery, you take me to bed."

A different frown creases her brow now as she inclines her head towards the door you left ajar behind you. "Your bed? Here?"

You glance back as well, almost drawn in and through the imposing towers of Moonrise and all they represent.

"Yes," you reply with little hesitation. You decide then and there to be done with this farce. No more flying away to stay at Last Light, or utterly unsubtle attempts at sneaking off, slinking back before dawn only to present yourself downstairs come morning, unacknowledged but fooling nobody. There are other methods in your arsenal besides pointless subterfuge. "And tomorrow - if you wish to join us, of course - I would like to invite you to breakfast. Where you will sit at my side."

Where you belong, you swallow back, keeping your mock-proclamation formal. Where the world should and will acknowledge you belong.

Aylin's smirk reassures you she understands fully how you intend to play this. "How could I decline my lady's invitation?"

You tilt your chin up, the picture of a lady issuing a decree, even as your lips curl into a smile. "Despite any slights, intended or not, and protests from my family, it is an honour to have you here. I will see that it is better demonstrated, as it should have been from the start."

Or perhaps it would be better to say how it was at the start, before Ketheric Thorm's welcome for Selûne's emissary cooled down to an icy, formal tolerance - of course, exactly as your and Aylin's relationship blossomed, decidedly informal, regardless.

Aylin's mouth is hot on your neck as she effortlessly lifts you up and carries you inside. You feel her grin through her kisses. "I think, Isobel, you'll find the honour is all mine. And so is having you. Here or anywhere else."

You cannot help but laugh, taking her face between both your hands and peppering it with kisses in return, always delighted by her utter lack of both subtlety and hesitation.

Once Aylin plants you on the bed and herself between your thighs, she refuses to stop until your legs are jelly, your head is void of all thought, and your heels have pressed shimmery bruises into her back. Her face both glows and glistens when she rests her cheek against your stomach at long last, alight with some private amusement and sheer pride. You thread your hands through her hair and catch your breath, and bask in her presence.

So magnificent in her devotion, your angel.

You spend the night curled around each other in a too-small bed, both of you choosing to be utterly brazen.

1385 DR

You were very young when your mother died. The searing, half-understood pain of her departure had time to dull into an ache, then into a sense of absence you have grown up with, that will always be yet another part of you. You keep her final letter, and reread it less and less as the years and then decades go by. You can hear and feel her words just as well in the soft, warm moonlight that blankets Reithwin on blessed nights. It makes you feel like you can firmly grasp and hold and understand all that she tried to leave you with.

There is a distinct sense that she is proud of you. That she will see you again one day and tell you so herself. So you smile up at the Moon, the ever-changing treasured constant in your life, and bask in the pale, gentle love you receive in return.

When you lost a mother, Reithwin lost its head cleric. In the years since, it has had only interim duty-bearers. And you understood, years ago, even as you settled into a promising role in the House of Healing, that you were being looked to as the replacement.

And true - this has ever been your calling. You feel you were born for this service, sometimes, so easily does it come to you - the deeply felt devotion, the lightness of moonlight always ready at your fingertips, the sheer awareness of Her presence, of all She gives and provides and strives for. A cause so good and just and right you would barely deign to call it a choice - though a choice it is, always, freely made by you, again and again and again.

So when you reject the notion of taking up office at Reithwin - at least for the foreseeable future - and announce your plan for undertaking several pilgrimages of increasing length and complexity, it causes a stir among the clergy and a dark thundercloud to settle upon your father's brow.

The further away the locations you list as you stand before him in his study, oddly formal, the deeper his frown becomes. By the time you mention leaving Waterdeep and the House of the Moon and the settlements on the way to Neverwinter, he raises a hand to cut you off.

"I do not think this is wise, Isobel. There is need of you here. The roads are perilous--"

"I can take care of myself. You know I can, papa - you've seen to that. I have trained and prepared for this all my life." Then you smile, hopeful, and make your biggest misstep. "Besides, Aylin will be there to protect me, should the need arise--"

"Of course she will," you catch the mutter under his breath and your mouth slams shut.

You take a deep, steadying breath, and reach across the desk to lay a gentle, reassuring hand on your father's, meeting and holding his heavy gaze. "Reithwin is my home. No matter where the road takes me, no matter how far, I'll always come back. And to you as well, papa."

Reithwin, ancestral seat of your family, safe and idyllic, surely does not need you as much as the wide world; the vast, colourful, challenging variety of the realms. There is so much you can do, and offer. What good are gifts if you are not going to use them? Hoarding them, hiding away, sheltered - no, you refuse to be a waste.

"I need you here, Isobel."

There is an edge of desperation to your father's voice that makes your breath catch and your eyes burn. A pain that calls to mind, oddly, the sting of the black ink being slowly applied around your lids, a needle shaping the curl of the holy symbol down towards your cheekbones.

And there it is, perhaps - the real root of the struggle at hand.

"I can't be your little girl forever," you exhale, frustration mounting, somewhat undercut when you see the naked hurt on his face. "I can't be just that," you amend. "I have an entire life to live. My own life."

"With Aylin," he suggests darkly. Disapprovingly. "And when she carelessly discards you, a mayfly in her eyes--"

"Is that what this is truly about, again? Father," not quite papa at the moment, no, as you try so very hard to keep your calm in the face of your own rising irritation, "must we?"

"How can I not, Isobel? When she has clearly been feeding you this - this drivel."

"It has nothing to do with her!"

The doubt is writ plainly all over his face, and you bristle. Fine. If he is not ready to relinquish his chokehold over Isobel Thorm, cherished daughter, then he will have to reckon with Isobel, accomplished cleric of Selûne, and prospective Silver Lady initiate. You let go of his hand and step back, square your shoulders demonstratively, stand up ramrod straight.

"Our Lady champions and rewards self-sufficiency, agency, travel, and discovery - of ourselves, the world around us, and all in it who might need guidance or help in any way. It is mine to freely give, and I intend to do so, wherever I am needed. In Her name."

You turn and leave without waiting for your father to scrounge up a response.

It is the last conversation you have with him for a century.

It happens so very quickly, for something that would rewrite the fate of your home and all you ever loved for the next hundred years. Like a carelessly tossed pebble turning into a rockslide.

An ominous chill that barely has the time to register fully; a bark-whine from Squire, cut short; a searing pain in-- through-- your side and your chest, fading into numbness within moments, so fast that you barely choke out a desperate blood-drowned breath as blackness swarms the edges of your vision; a frantic cry of Isobel! ringing out from somewhere above or below; and then--

nothing

and nothing, and nothing, and nothing.

#baldur's gate 3 #isobel thorm #dame aylin #aylin x isobel #bg3 #fanfiction #my fic #oathkeeper writes things #comments welcome thoughts welcome honestly i just want to rotate these two in my head forever #i want to yell about isobel thorm constantly

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writtenonreceipts · 7 months

Text

Rowaelin Month Day Twenty Two: Magic/Shifting Lessons with the Kids @rowaelinscourt

Month Masterlist

~1k words, another day of poor editing

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Father and Son

The screams were what drew Rowan’s attention first.

He couldn’t scent any blood so he knew it wasn’t terribly urgent. Nor could he scent any pain either. But when his children were involved, it was best to put an end to screaming as soon as possible. The last time he and Aelin had tried to let them scream it out the entire west wing of the palace had nearly been destroyed.

So, Rowan picked up his pace as he rounded the corner down to the practice yard where he knew his two oldest should have been working on their sword formations. He came face to face with a young soldier instead, likely on his way to find him or Aelin.

“Ah, your highness,” the young fae said. He bowed shortly, refusing to meet Rowan’s gaze. “The children--”

“Are causing problems again, aren’t they?” Rowan finished. The soldier’s eyes only widened to a comical size. “I’ll see to them.”

Without saying anything else, he swept past the soldier and out to the yard. It indeed was chaos.

Two of the practice dummies had been obliterated. Hay streaked in every direction, barrels overturned, and Meiri stood center of it all. Her blonde hair was, as always, in disarray, and her tunic mussed up. She pointed her wooden practice sword at a crate where Rowan could just make out Finlay hiding behind.

Oh good. They were getting along swimmingly.

“Come out, Finlay!” Meiri shouted. She was sixteen and well on her way to taking over the world. “You can’t hide behind that.”

“You’re cheating.” Finlay, nearly fifteen, kept his position with his own practice sword clutched in his hands.

Rowan could at least pride himself on the fact he insisted they not use real weapons on each other unless he, Lorcan, or Aedion were present.

“I’m not cheating!”

“Are too!”

“You can use magic too, if you actually tried!”

Meiri’s words were not meant to be cruel exactly, but she was young and confident and could be rather arrogant in her own abilities. Exactly like her mother. And Rowan knew how Finlay would take the words all the same.

He waited until Meiri finally noticed him.

“Da!” she exclaimed. “Would you please tell Fin this isn’t how you fight. He’s embarrassing himself, really.”

“Stand down, Meir,” Rowan said. He dipped his chin at his daughter who frowned, but lowered the wooden sword all the same.

Rowan nodded in approval before going to the crate where Fin was still hiding behind. It wasn’t often that the lad acted like this. He was indeed proud and hated displaying weakness of any sort. But he was also still young and barely coming into maturity. Rowan could only guess what was going on in his son’s head. So he eased himself onto the ground right beside Fin, crossing his arms over his knees in a relaxed position.

Finlay groaned. “Oh, would you just leave me alone?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and banged his head against the crate.

“I’m the only one equipped to handle the two of you when you get like this,” Rowan reminded his son.

“Meiri’s insane,” Fin hissed.

“I heard that!” Meiri shouted from behind them.

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Not now, Meiri.”

His words were followed by a huff and stomping feet. Rowan waited a bit longer until he knew Meiri had fully retreated to the weapons room. He looked at his son.

Finlay was a near replica of Rowan himself. Silver hair, tan skin, and green eyes. Though…Rowan would swear Fin’s eyes changed on occasion. No matter. It was still a bit disconcerting at times to remember the fact that he, Rowan Whitethorn, had a son. Even if he’d had over a decade to get used to the fact.

“What happened?” Rowan asked. “Couldn’t summon ice or couldn’t aim?”

Fin said nothing as she stretched his long legs out before him.

“By the looks of it, you got a bit out of control?” Rowan pressed.

Fin banged his head against the crate again.

“It’s hard to control early on,” Rowan said, he tried to channel the way his own father trained him and not what he had learned trapped in Maeve’s oath. “Even harder when you’re still growing into yourself, maturing--”

“Stop talking da,” Fin said, finally looking at him. It was more like a glare but Rowan would take it.

He smothered a grin and knocked his shoulder with Fin’s. “It’s alright to struggle with your magic. But you can’t let your temper control you.”

Fin scowled. “I don’t let it control me.”

“Then why will we need to have the servants make new practice dummies?” Rowan asked. He didn’t want to embarrass his son or make this situation worse than it could potentially be. But sometimes you had to press and dig to get the answers you wanted. “Seems like something happened.”

Fin kept his eyes trained forward to an alcove across the practice yard. It was left in afternoon shadows but was as innocuous a place as any to train your attention when avoiding confrontation.

For a moment, Rowan wondered if he should call Aelin here. She’d struggled with controlling her magic and it hadn’t been centuries since that happened. Unlike with Rowan. He could still remember the vague sense of frustration, but it truly had been an age since he’d struggled so much.

“Finlay,” Rowan began as she stretched his legs out before him. “Sometimes, getting better at something takes longer than we think it will, but that doesn’t mean we give up on it.”

Fin continued scowling. “Meiri teases me for losing control. I’m trying, I’m trying really hard, da.”

It was true that Meiri’s magic had always come easily to her, that she didn’t struggle with it, that it was simply a natural extension of her being. And even though Fin had displayed his magic early on--he’d always had a difficult time reigning it in.

“That’s just Meiri,” Rowan sighed. “But she is your sister, and you do actually have to talk to her about things. Or we can have one big family dinner and talk about what it’s like to grow up and change.”

“No!” Fin shouted, grabbing the front of Rowan’s shirt. “That’ll just make it worse.”

Rowan chuckled, unable to help it. He stood and offered a hand to Fin.

“C’mon then,” he said. “I helped train your mother. I can help train you too.”

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

not ready to try tagging again... but as always, thanks for reading friends

#rowaelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelinmonth #rowaelinmonth2023 #throne of glass #tog #throne of glass fanfiction #fanfic

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the-possum-writes · 8 months

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Heya! Is it ok if I request romantic headcanons of Fern with a fish princess reader please?

Fishy Buisness

❥Character: Fern Mertens

❥Tags: SFW, Wholesome, Friends to lovers, Fish!Reader, Gender neutral pronouns, Hcs

❥Synopsis: Fern kept practicing his fishing only to find most of the fishes he catches are already dead, when he decides to get to the bottom of this mystery it leads him to make a new friend.

❥For the past week, Fern had been practicing his fishing every day until he returned home with a proud smile and a clutch of fish. "Take a look at this bounty, boys! I guess my luck is changing for the better, huh?"

❥But upon closer inspection, the fish's eyes were evidently lifeless.

Finn is the first to comment, saying, "I don't know fern, they look like they were dead before you caught them."

"Yeah, did you get them from the market?" Jake plays it off.

"What? No! I just reeled them in this morning." Fern then starts questioning himself.

❥When he went back to his fishing spot as usual, Fern feels a tug on his line and reels it in only to find out that fish is dead too. "Then how are they biting the line??"

❥To figure out what was going on, he made a dummy that looked like him and connected a fishing pole to it. He placed the dummy in his normal spot while studying the river waters from atop a tree branch. From that height, he could notice turbulent waters near the fishing line and swim away upstream, following the turbulence until plunging in after whatever was in the water.

❥He caught the most surprising fish there; instead of the river monster he was expecting, Fern was greeted by a fish person with scales, fins, and everything. Despite being bipedal, they nevertheless maintained aquatic features that gave them an amphibian-like appearance.

❥"AHH! They scream, "PLEASE DON'T EAT MEEEEE, I DON'T TASTE GOOD.

"I don't want to eat you, I wanna know why you're leaving dead fish in my line." Fern raises his voice. He would have been shocked that he could yell underwater, but at the time, he was too furious to care.

❥"I'm sorry! I didn't know what to do with them after the monster assaulted the Coral Reef Kingdom, so I decided to give them to you and continue their life cycle." You explain your situation, which piqued Fern's curiosity and helped to calm him down.

"Just quit doing that! It's embarrassing that my brothers think I'm cheating at fishing. Fern speaks from his own perspective. "What is this monster you're talking about? Will you let me fish in peace if I kill it?"

❥You agree to Fern's demands and direct him to your kingdom of a neighboring coral reef where an invasive species of fish monsters is taking over. These fish monsters eat anything swimming nearby and mix up the water to the point where nothing can grow or be seen through the sand.

❥You'd be lying if you claimed you didn't have any doubts about his abilities, but Fern had no trouble killing the monsters and sending them swimming away. However, when he returned to you, he was still in poor condition.

❥"There, I need to go back and..." Fern passed in front of you, and you scooped him up before he could plunge into the deeper waters.

When Fern woke up, the first thing he noticed was the light sand intermingled with patches of green grass. He also noticed a small handcrafted basket made of a giant seashell and rope, which contained some seaweed salad and what he guessed was a paste that was intended for medical purposes. The words "Thanks" were scribbled in the sand but there was no other note left behind.

❥Fern returned to his fishing spot and had better luck the next several days; it seemed that schools of fish started to travel through the river more frequently. Even though he was successful in recovering his reputation at home, he couldn't help but think about the fish person.

❥In his thoughts, he justified his behavior by saying that he was returning to the spot where he had first awoken in order to catch different creatures, although this was only partially true.

❥Not long after he castes his line it immediately started tugging it, but just like before, instead of seeing a regular fish he was met with the sight of you.

❥"Hey."

He responds, "Hey."

"You returned, why?" You emerge from the water, resting your arms on the riverbank before laying your head.

He thinks for a moment, then says, "I don't know, I guess I was getting bored at my same spot. You sent those fishes my way, didn't you?"

You answer casually, making patterns in the sand to divert his attention. "Well, my part of the deal was to stop hitching dead fishes to your line."

"But now that you made things too easy for me, what fun is that anymore?" Fern grumbles.

At the sound of that, you turn your head. "Oh, you're more of a challenge kind of guy?" You put him to the test:

❥Fern doesn't require air, so you feel at ease knowing that you may swim without being in a rush. You led him to a special underwater stream. The unique location you led him to is a network of underground caverns teeming with aquatic life such as fish, crabs, and algae. "Only the toughest fish and marine animals can survive here because of the powerful currents; it would be lucky to even see one, let alone catch one."

❥He soon became hyper focused on the task, meanwhile you'd just sit back back and say. "Oh so close."

❥It quickly became routine to sit back and watch Fern attempt to capture fish with his bare hands; he was always within reach, but the fish always slipped his grip. He was also incredibly competitive; he'd go at it for hours, only pausing to eat a small photosynthetic lunch at the surface.

❥You would accompany him with your own catch of the day and serve it with a substantial serving of seaweed salad or some crab flesh on the side.

❥You two discuss a variety of subjects, including hunting techniques, animal species you have encountered or heard about, your explorations of sunken ships, and his exploits on dry land.

❥Fern gradually lost his sense of competition and came to enjoy your company to the point where he would come see you for more than just catching.

❥Finn is happy to see his grass brother in a good mood (he's also secretly pleased that they stopped eating fish every night, but he doesn't have the guts to admit it), while Jake jokes that he's been underwater for so long that he'll develop algae and smell like fish.

❥Once you finally met Fern's two brothers, you served them a seafood mixture. It's nice to finally meet you; Fern always talks about you.

"He does?"

❥Fern doesn't realize he has a strong crush on you until Jake points it out; of course, he believes he's joking, but Jake insists otherwise. "I'm being honest here; you two have good chemistry, and you'd understand if you noticed how they look at you," the speaker said.

❥He doesn't fully comprehend what Jake is getting at until the day he finally catches a fish in the cavern currents.

"I did it? I DID IT!! Hah take that! You thought I'd never make it did ya?!" Fern unknowingly flexes his catch in front of you out of excitement, but he immediately shut up when he saw nothing but fondness in your eyes and expression.

The hug caught him off guard too, almost letting go of his catch. "I always knew you were capable of it, it was just a matter of time." you confess.

❥Fern felt warm inside despite the chilly waters and your low body temperature. It didn't even bother him to release his rare catch in favor of returning the hug with a tight squeeze."Thanks, wouldn't have done it without you."

❥After that, you two became even closer. Talking about your pasts, insecurities, and even future plans. Before you knew it confessions were also made and feelings were reciprocated.

❥Dating was usually the same as hanging out as friends, with the main difference being the physical affection. Since you don't have hair, braiding Fern's hair is one of your favorite past times. Fern would sit on the bank of the river and splash the water at his pointy feet.

❥You crafted the two of you identical seashell bracelets for your one-year anniversary.

❥Fern would try to take you on a romantic boat ride into the sea but he looses a paddle midway and you offer to pull it since you're great at swimming, but he insist on being a gentleman and offers to tug it instead.

❥Since you already met Fern's family it was your turn to have him meet your family, or in this case the citizens of your kingdom. A large array of fishes and sentient sea life where three of them in particular are the equivalent of your "royal" staff. "This oyster is Sheila my maid, that octopus over there is Otto he's the chef and that old sea slug is Ralph, he's the butler if you couldn't tell by the snazzy bow tie."

❥Fern didn't know much about your status as royalty but he soon came to learn that your title of princess is mostly self proclaimed, with your crown being handmade with seashells that are stylized more like a protective helm.

❥Fern doesn't know how, but you introduce him to every creature that frequents your coral reef by name (he isn't sure if that's their real names or if you named them)

It's then that he realizes how lonely you are being the only fish person in an underwater kingdom but you reassure him that. "Ever since I met you, I never really felt that lonely anymore."

#finn mertens x reader #adventure time x reader #reader insert #adventure time #fern mertens

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badsanspoly · 4 months

Text

Day 2 - Romance

Horror x Cross short oneshot

(Ignore some mistakes I made this was made in a rush 🙏 sorry guys! Also i know its not the second anymore, hushh)

It was early in the morning, and hearing Cross exercising in the training room was no surprise to Horror. As he exited his bedroom, Horror could hear the loud grunts echoing through the halls of the castle as Cross practiced his fighting skills with a dummy. That poor dummy must’ve gone through some things, it was completely torn in different places and overall completely demolished, yet Nightmare refused to get a new one. He said the current one could still be used and he’d get a new one once this one was beaten to a pulp.

The ex-guard finally stopped slashing at the dummy after a few minutes, panting loudly as he let his comically large knife slip out of his hand and dissipate into thin air. He rubbed his forehead, wiping the beads of sweat on it as he tried to catch his breath.

Horror admired Cross, very much so. When he first met the other he had already noticed how professional and precise he was. It was sort of expected that Horror eventually found himself with feelings for Cross, which ended up being the case for the others too. How could someone not like a man like him? He was kind, did everything he could for his loved ones, and was extremely attractive. Cross was the kind of guy that girls would go crazy about in high school.

Horror got pulled back to reality as Cross went to the other side of the training room to get a bottle of water, which caught Horror’s attention. He finally remembered why he was here: to get Cross to bed.

He pushed the door open further and walked in, quietly making his way behind Cross until he stood behind him. Horror swiftly had his arms wrapped around Cross in a hug, which made Cross smile softly. He put his free hand on Horror’s arm, tilting his head up to stare at his taller boyfriend. “Hey,” Cross said with a sleepy look on his face. Horror squeezed Cross gently, pulling Cross closer in the hug; the action made Cross smile more. “Hey, muffin,” Horror responded, nuzzling Cross’ head with his nose.

“You’re supposed ‘t be ‘n bed,” Horror scolded, keeping Cross in place even as he tried to put his bottle down, he instead took another sip of the water. “I know.”

After a little bit of squirming, Cross finally managed to get out of the tight hug so he could put his bottle on the bench. Horror couldn’t help but think something was wrong, Cross was always one to take his emotions out in the gym, especially very early in the morning.

“Somethin’ wrong?” Horror asked, staring at Cross’ back as he didn’t turn to face him. “I’m okay, H. Don’t worry about it,” Cross said after a sigh, wrapping his arm around himself, basically hugging himself. Horror wished Nightmare were awake, as he was MUCH more experienced with this kind of thing. But he was having a nice and peaceful sleep, Horror could never interrupt that. The way Horror comforts people is with physical affection and food, it seems to work mostly. Sometimes not so much. Horror was unsure if it’d work in this situation, but it didn't hurt to try.

“Alright,” Horror sighed too, looking away for a second. “Wanna get food, since you’re awake? I’m pretty hungry.

Cross chuckled at that, Horror was always hungry. “Sure, I’m a bit sweaty, though,” Cross looked down at himself, releasing his hands from his arms to look at them. His black shirt was drained. “Let’s get ya cleaned up first then,” Horror said, pulling Cross in another hug that Cross couldn’t get out of anymore.

There was a convenient shower room attached to the training room, one that Cross or the rest of the group used after working out or training. Cross protested as Horror took him to the shower, Cross thought that ‘getting him cleaned up’ meant using a wet towel or something. He was wrong and was pushed into the shower with Horror joining him. This wasn’t the first time any of them had showered together, it was a common thing they did for either fun or just for the company. Horror didn’t necessarily need to shower, but he wanted in any way, making Cross blush throughout the whole thing as Horror ‘showered’ him with love.

Once they were out of the shower, Horror took it upon himself to dry and dress Cross before doing so himself, planting many kisses on Cross’ face as he did so. Despite Cross often being the professional little ex-guard he was trained to be, it was easy to fluster him. Horror loved seeing that handsome face light up like a gyftmas tree with just the smallest action of affection.

Cross was now dressed in a white t-shirt with shorts, and Horror wearing an oversized grey shirt with shorts, they were both extremely comfortable. Horror held Cross’ hand as they walked down the stairs in the direction of the kitchen so they could get food for themselves. At this point, Horror didn't care about bringing Cross to bed anymore, only to love Cross and distract him from whatever was bothering him. It seemed to be working, as Cross had completely forgotten what he was upset about.

Horror lifted Cross from the floor and placed him on the counter, giving him one last kiss on the lips before going to the fridge. Horror had decided to feed Cross and himself fruits, fruits were always good. He retrieved two translucent containers that held strawberries and grapes in them from the fridge and placed them beside Cross on the counter. He opened the container with the grapes in it and offered it to Cross, who took it with a smile.

“Thanks, H,” Cross said after a bit of silent eating, looking at the other who leaned back against the container as he ate a strawberry. “Hmn? For what, muffin?” He asked, making sure not to talk with his mouth full as he turned to Cross. “For… all this. The shower, the food, ... you.” Cross’ face turned a little purple again with blush as he said this, turning his head away from Horror so he didn't face him. Horror smiled brightly, if he possessed a tail it would definitely be wagging at rapid speed. The container full of strawberries was quickly set aside before Horror gently grabbed Cross’ face and kissed him. The action surprised Cross for a moment until he started kissing back, setting his container aside too as the two begun kissing passionately.

Horror had leaned into Cross, Cross having his arms wrapped around Horror’s neck as they stayed pressed against each other for a long time. Breath? Never heard of her. They didn’t need to breathe, they could survive as long as they were together.

The intimate moment was soon interrupted as they heard footsteps approaching, both of them having to sadly pull away from each other. They both knew who had come inside the kitchen, Killer. They both turned their heads to face the skeleton who wore nothing but just boxers, meaning he had woken up before Dust and Nightmare.

“… That was hot, dude,” he said softly, but loud enough for the duo to hear.

Cross grabbed a strawberry and threw it at Killer’s face, it splashing on his forehead.

“Hey!” “Dude, get out!”

THE END （╹◡╹)

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1heartsickfics · 5 months

Note

Are you still writing for your OCs? If so I would love to see Jackson throwing up all over the kitchen floor and Kaiuser taking care of him.

Jackson hadn't been feeling particularly well all day. Thankfully it was his weekend off, so he didn't have to go into work, but it was rather upsetting to spend his day off on the couch, not being able to do anything.

He'd woken up feeling sick to his stomach. At first he didn't think much of it, taking a TUMS and using the bathroom, but it didn't get any better. In fact it had only gotten worse since then. He hadn't thrown up yet or anything, but his stomach was churning even though he hadn't eaten anything today and he was definitely starting to feel queasy.

He thought about texting Kaiser, but he was working today, so it's not like he could do anything anyway. And he probably wouldn't be home until 3 or 4.

So Jackson just moped about the apartment, alternating between watching criminal minds and taking naps. He tried to eat a few crackers around lunch time but it immediately made him feel 10 times worse so he gave up and settled for a few sips of water instead.

He must have fallen asleep again, because he suddenly woke up with a gasp, feeling dizzy and hot. Groaning, he felt around for his phone to see what time it was. 3:47pm. Hopefully Kaiser would be home soon.

Jackson slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position and turned to put his feet on the floor. His mouth was so dry and he felt like he was on fire. He reached for his glass on the coffee table but found it empty. He needed water.

The whole world seemed like it was spinning, but he managed to stand up and trudge to the kitchen without falling over. He filled up his glass with water from the tap and took a sip. As soon as he swallowed though he knew he'd made a mistake. His stomach immediately rejected the new addition to its contents.

He clamped a hand over his mouth, feeling his stomach turn. Biting back a gag, he set the glass of water down and steeled himself to make a run for the bathroom. Before he could even take another step though, his body took over. He pitched over with a heave, bringing up a mouthful of water and stomach acid onto the kitchen floor.

"Oh, Jesus Jay!" Kaiser exclaimed, having just gotten home and come into the kitchen looking for his boyfriend. Jackson hadn't even heard him come in. Kaiser quickly rushed to his boyfriend's side, placing one hand on his back and grabbing him by the shoulder with the other. He looked like he was about to keel over.

"Hey, hey, easy, I've got you baby," Kaiser said, rubbing circles over Jackson's t-shirt while he continued to heave. There wasn't much coming up anymore, but his body seemed intent on turning itself inside out.

"Fuck," Jackson spat, out of breath and shaking from the exertion. "I'm s-so sorry."

"Don't apologize dummy, come on, let's go sit, you're shaking," Kaiser shook his head, taking Jackson by the arm to help him straighten up. Together, they slowly made their way back to the couch. "Here love," Kaiser helped Jackson lay down, draping a blanket over him.

"Thank you," Jackson practically whispered, feeling so tired suddenly.

"I'm so sorry you're sick Jaz, you could've called me," Kaiser said, crouching down next to the couch to be at Jackson's eye level.

"You were at work," Jackson shrugged.

"I know, but I could have at least picked up some ginger ale or gatorade on the way home if I knew you were sick. Do you want me to go out and grab you some?" Kaiser asked, reaching a hand out to brush Jackson's hair off of his face, smoothing it back.

Jackson shook his head. "It'll just come back up. My stomach doesn't feel good," he said.

"I know baby, but you don't want to get dehydrated. You need to drink something," Kaiser said, cupping Jackson's cheek in his hand. The poor boy was burning up.

"Later?" Jackson asked pitifully, sounding almost close to tears.

"Okay," Kaiser sighed, "Later. How about you try to get some rest and when you wake up we'll try some water okay?" he agreed

Jackson nodded, "Okay."

"Alright, get some sleep love, I'll be right here if you need anything," Kaiser said, leaning over to kiss Jackson's feverish forehead, his eyes already drifting closed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - -

Sorry I haven't written in forever and this is super short but here's something because we're on thanksgiving break.

#jackson and kaiser #sick jackson #sickfic #oc stories #stomach flu #tw: vomit #vomit trigger warning #fluff #emeto

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buttersmama · 2 years

Text

CRUSH?!

Choi beomgyu x m!reader

Summary: m/n experienceing what a confession feels like to his crush

M/n being the luckiest bitch alive.

Tw: none just fluff

Word count: 2k+

M/n was so obvious. The way that he'd stare beomgyu during the classes and the way he'd immediately turn around whenever their eyes would meet.

He was so obvious the way he became a stuttering mess when they were partnered up for the history project. Beomgyu enjoyed this. A bit too much.

M/n who would sit at the back of the class so the teacher couldn't catch him staring at the living beauty, the m/n who'd leave silly little love letters in beomgyu's locker under the name 'anonymous'.

The m/n, who had liked beomgyu since the seventh grade was in the room of his crush. Poor lil m/n was so nervous when beomgyu's hand would slightly brush against his or whenever beomgyu would sit a bit too close to him, he thought he'd go blank.

And cunning beomgyu, who wasn't new to m/n's reactions, loved this atmosphere that he created. Perhaps he loved teasing m/n with the way how m/n was practically on the floor with beomgyu on top! a knowing smile on his face while looking at m/n.

M/n wondered if this was real or not, whether he liked this or not on one hand he was happy on the other he was fucked out. 'Why was beomgyu doing this'? Somewhere along the line, don't know when but beomgyu started looking out for the latter. Looking forward to meet him.

To read his anonymous love letters. Beomgyu knew m/n was the one behind these but played along when his friends would ask him about the love letter's author saying he didn't have a clue about it.

"You like me" beomgyu said, looking at the guy underneath him. M/n was embarrassed, his ears burned. He doesn't know why, maybe because his crush just outed him or maybe his crush already knew about those 'cringy' love letters.

"I know it was you who wrote love letters to me" beomgyu uttered softly as if m/n would break if he spoke any louder. He touched m/n's burning face, "don't be shy, confess,,i like you too" beomgyu looked kind too kind just as an angel- no something more than that!

M/n's heart raced at his words, still too astonished to even reply beomgyu. Beomgyu leaned in slowly, pulling m/n with him. Eyes closing along the way. Beomgyu's lips were soft, soft like a cotton filled cushion. Beomgyu's lips touched m/n's for just a mere second.

Beomgyu pulled back and looked at m/n before diving in and kissing him once again. This time a bit more. A bit harder. Beomgyu led the kiss not even waiting for m/n to respond. Beomgyu's hands reached m/n hair where he tugged them slowly.

Pulling m/n's hair back just to see if he rebels and pushes forward to continue the kiss. Beomgyu was out of breath, he backed out not wanting to though. Beomgyu who was now sitting on m/n's lap saw m/n immediately looking down after their kiss, maybe he was embarrassed.

M/n who was too shy to look at beomgyu, leaned forward and hid his face in his crush's chest. "i like you, beomgyu" he said in such a voice only beomgyu could hear. "I know, dummy" beomgyu laughed endearingly.

If ya want me to write for other members send me a scenario cus i can't think for shit

#txt beomgyu #txt yeonjun #beomgyu x male reader #choi beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x male reader #txt x male reader #txt x reader #txt post #txt #tomorrow by together #txt hyuka #tyun #soobin

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initiallytasteless · 1 year

Text

Training the rookie

┏━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━┓

Simon ‘ Ghost ‘ Riley x f!reader

NSFW Warning: p in v, overstimulation, degrading, praise!kink, biting, semi!public sex

┗━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━┛

Ever since your agreement to work with Task Force 141 so far has been pretty rough, let’s just say they don’t particularly like what you used to do— for now at least. You worked with groups of people from all sorts of sketchy jobs; from small time criminals to big gangs transportation and business assassinations.

The only reason why they ( which was Price ) knew you was a set up job, you were supposed to get assassinated from them. Someone had hired you to kill some other big CEO who was apparently getting in their way, so of course you agreed.

The only issue why the plan hadn’t worked was that your employer didn’t tell you ( or was notified ) that the competition was acquainted with a mayor. The mayor being the president of that company, it wasn’t your fault you weren’t from that area after all albeit you should’ve done some research.

So of course like any level headed person would do call the fucking military for protection. You didn’t get the job done, however out of anger you let out some info on the employer. You know you shouldn’t have done that, but you did whatever the fuck you wanted anyways.

Back to now, you where in the training grounds doing your typical firing range practice you were mostly an up close fighter. Price forced you to train how to use long range even though that wasn’t your forte.

You where laying down on the sand sacks attempting to aim at the shooting dummies. You had a couple shots close to the initial spot but mostly missed the red fat dot.

“ You need to relax there rookie that’s why your aim is off “ A strong British accent critics.

Your jaw tightens as your grumble some incoherent complaint focused back onto your inanimate victim. His heavy boots crunch the dried up dirt and pebbles making his steps loud as you continued to shoot.

“ Didn’t you hear me rookie? “ He growled crossing his large arms against his burly chest.

You took a deep breath placing the sniper down and turning over to face him; his heavy frame thankfully covered the sun’s intense rays from burning your poor retinas.

“ Thanks, I heard you for fucks sakes and I just don’t give a shit… now fuck off “ You retorted already feeling the anger bubble up making your skin hot.

“ You should watch your fucking attitude and that damn mouth of yours “ He warns his intense cold eyes burned into yours. “ You can get into serious fucking trouble “.

“ As if I give a fuck, oh wait “ You checked into your pockets and gasp whilst digging into them and pulling off a middle finger. “ Looks like I don’t “.

He bends down and swiftly picks you up and slams you against one of the stand up walls that covered us from anyone who bothered to come outside. He clutches at the collar of my black button up.

Even though his face was covered by his black balaclava with white strips topped with a plastic skull that he got off from halloween spirit. He looks terrifying, but of course you wouldn’t show him. No. You couldn’t give in that easily.

All you could do was send back a glare although that doesn’t affect the super soldier all he does is examine you. Your face was covered as well, yet it seemed his was trying to sense something of you.

“ Can you get your fucking hands off of me before we have a fucking problem Ghost “ You spat his name out as if it was the most nastiest thing you have said. Like chocolate covered pickles that someone randomly gave you on your birthday.

“ What did I just tell you about your attitude rookie… “ He chastised lifting me higher till we met eye level. I could feel your heart thumb against your chest ready to jump out and run off to New Zealand away from this overgrown man. He pushes his body against yours mine preventing you from escaping.

“ The fuck do you think your doing asshole! “ You scowled. Thank god this mask was covering your face or else you would’ve been screwed and he would’ve seen that red face of yours.

He leans against my head and whispers, “ You need to be taught a lesson rookie “.

With that something in me clicked, my legs suddenly felt like jello and my face flushed that it could melt my mask. My breathing became ragged and the damn mask wasn’t helping me with my breath.

His stare wasn’t as harsh as before his eyes told me he figured out something. His gloved hands slide it’s way down to my thighs lifting them up to wrap around his waist. He lets out an amused chuckle.

Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders bringing him closer body heat was emitting from him. You didn’t know was going on, your heart seemed like it stopped, your breath hitched, and there was an odd fluttering in your stomach as his hands stroked the inside of your thighs. Whatever was going on at the moment you liked it and wanted to go on further, but you were to stubborn to do so.

“ You’ve gone submissive just letting me in between your legs like that rookie… “ He teased leaning in close to you. His low gruff voice made you feel some type of way and in a very good way.

His hands inched closer and closer to your throbbing cunt wanting to be touched and toyed with.

“ Fuck “ You whined gripping onto his gears as he teased you delicately. You unconsciously grinded your hips against his hands wanting some sort of friction.

“ What is it that you want, huh? “ He smirks through his mask. You felt like putty in his grip, you wanted to say something but his touched felt like heaven. You wondered what his lips felt like onto your burning skin.

He recoils his hands and focuses on your begging figure, “ Use your words doll, what is it that you want? “.

“ You. I need you to touch me and fuck me here- just please I need you “ You begged. You felt vulnerable and pathetically whined to a man wanting to be fucked like some toy. Something about him just felt different it was unexplainable, but deep down you know that there was something.

He made you feel things that no other man or women made you feel. They never made you feel vulnerable like this and begging, it was usually the opposite.

Ghost pushes his hips against yours grinding into your needing cunt the rhythm of his hips made you want more of him. His hands made it’s way to your breast messaging them through the thin tight button up.

“ Please Ghost I need you inside of me— please I need you “ You whined. You felt like you were just gonna cum from how good he made you feel just by touching you and grinding against you.

Ghost found this amusing. How did a cold ruthless killer become a needy pathetic girl that just wanted to be fucked out in the open fields.

“ Not yet rookie, not until I want to fuck your pretty little cunt of yours “ His voice laced with lust for you. His hands unbuckled your belt and unzipped you lowering your pants. Ghost couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of you how you were just wet for him.

“ You’re sopping wet there rookie “ He chuckles darkly removing his gloves. “ I can’t wait to fuck you and drive you over the edge until you can only think of my cock“.

His gives little attention to your clit creating a slow and painful yet pleasurable rhythm— the roughness of his hands felt like heaven. You let out lewd mewls gripping onto his broad shoulders.

He moves his left hand down away from my clit sliding two of his finger on my folds before sticking them in making me tilt my head back and letting out a moan. He moves his free hand and rips my shirt open exposing my bra without a thought he grabs his knife and cuts it showing my breast. You wasn’t even possibly angry at him for doing so as you to busy focused on how his fingers felt good inside of you.

A burning feeling in stomach began to bubble as you were close to ecstasy; shutting your eyes and dug your long nails further onto his shoulder making him groan.

“ Ghost- I’m gonna- I’m cumming- I’m “ You let out a pleasured moan as you felt the knot release from my stomach. He pulls his fingers away from your pussy and lifts my balaclava half way, “ Taste yourself “.

His sticks his fingers in my mouth moving my tongue around his fingers and licked in between them tasting myself. He removes them and lift his mask halfway as well kissing you roughly feelings his chapped lips against yours.

He pulls away as we breathed heavily. Your body was twitching from the pleasure he gave you, something that you wasn’t used to for a while. There was shuffling in front of you, but you were slightly tired from how good he just finger fucked your cunt.

The shuffling stopped and you looked down seeing his monster of a cock twitch against your dripping sex. How the fuck was that Godzilla dick gonna fit inside of you ?

You were sure that you were gonna get split in half and just die.

“ Don’t worry rookie, you can take me like how you took the other guys down during our missions “ He reassured stroking my thighs.

“ Ghost that was a fight! “ You recalled slowly gaining your missing consciousness back. “ I wasn’t getting fucked like how I am now! “.

Ignoring my complaints he sticks himself inside of me; You let out a shriek and your body shivers as your cunt tightens around him. Oh fuck, looks like you were gonna die not on the battlefield but being fucked on the firing grounds by a British behemoth. At least you died satisfied.

“ Shh, shh, scream any louder and someone’s gonna hear us unless you wanna be caught rookie “ He reminded, but you were distracted by how he was ripping you apart. “ And plus, that’s only the head doll “.

At this point you already accepted death and two if you were surviving this you hoped that someone covers your insurance bills. He pushes himself inside of you easily as your pre-orgasm and his pre-cum helped him slide in. You took him entirely and there was a visible bump in your stomach. You where propped on his chest clawing onto his gear-less back.

Without giving you a moment to adjust he lifts you up with ease and slams you back down hitting deep into your womb. You were seeing stars as Ghost slammed inside of you burrowing himself deep and stretching you out.

“ God you feel so good “ He growls, hiding his face in your neck taking smalls nibbles of your flesh. “ You’re gonna be good little slut and take ‘em all “.

Your eyes roll back as you felt him pick up his speed, you couldn’t tell if his cock kept getting bigger or you were hallucinating at this point.

“ You know who’s name to scream slut? “ He questioned, his hands making cresent prints on my hips drawing out small amounts of blood.

You were far gone high off of pleasure you could hear his voice, yet nothing seem to travel. The burning sensation was back into your stomach, but it felt twice was hotter.

“ Scream Simon slut. Scream my fucking name “ He bites hard onto your shoulder making you scream out in pleasure.

“ Simon- fuck, fuck, fuck- Si- I’m gonna- Si- I’m gonna “ You felt the salty tears come on from the pain and pleasure his giving you.

“ Come one baby, come onto my cock just like that- fuck your squeezing’em so tight “ Simon’s gruff voice made your ecstasy so much better the way he degraded you and his rough lips onto your poor damaged skin.

He continued to roughly thrust into you as you can feel his release coming close and your third orgasm coming in as well.

“ Come into me Simon. I want you to come into me, please “ You cried biting down onto his neck making him grunt. Your head became fuzzy and tears continually roll down onto the balaclava soaked from your salty tears.

“ Shit- coming “.

With one last harsh thrust he releases into you feeling his cock pump semen in your core and the excess dripping down to your ass. Simon leans you against the coke metal wall against your hot skin.

“ Look at you covered pretty in all of my bite marks and your cunt dripping with my semen “ He kisses me gently this time cupping my cheeks. “ You did good for your first time training with me “.

He slowly removes himself from me places his cock onto my stomach, “ Next time you show attitude your punishment is gonna be much worse “.

Sorry for being dead for idk how many days I was having trouble writing something and then writing this and then i got distracted with cod mobile. Sorry for any fucked up spellings it’s 254 AM i’m tired 💀

Anyways hoped you enjoyed xoxo

#codmw2022 #cod mw22 #ghost x reader #modern warfare #simon ghost riley x reader #maerinsblog

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stinkfacestories · 2 years

Note

Big show, huge fan. Did you ever have those "practice dummy" type jobbers to practice against? If so, what did you do to the poor little guys?

Oh I get to do that all the time. We call it a squash match. The whole point it to see a big guy like me just thrash a little guy. Crowd loves it. Usually its a local guy at a smaller show. How it goes is when we practice ill usually go over some of the things I know the crowd likes, and what the guy is comfortable with doing. Funnily enough I'm not the one who ever brings up the stinkface. Usually near the end of our session when we have come up with a good routine they will go "Your gonna sit on my face though right?" Here i'm thinking: Whoa, i'm trying not to kill this jobber here, and he's asking for my ass on his face. Ill give them the out though. I have them get in the turnbuckle and ill slowly move my ass in on their face. You know, let the reality of it sink in on them. Maybe they get a whiff of the funk we have been working up all day. If they don't object ill sit back and let it smear over them. Then I hold it. I hold it long. When I feel them tap I still hold it. If they are gonna take this Infront of people they have to be able to sell it. When I start to feel the mumbles of their voice crying out into my cheeks, thats when I start to let up. Not before farting though. Usually right as I peel away ill let out whatever im holding. I want them to hear it so they don't think that it was just their imagination. Then I ask them again "You sure you want to take that Infront of a crowd?" Funnily enough, 9/10 of them still do.

#stinkface stories #stinkface #farting #big show #Wwe #Aew #Big show ama 5

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sokai-asuki · 2 months

Text

Lego Nexo Knights x Hatsune Miku: Colourful Stage

Originally inspired by @soragawanaeru (sorry for tagging you)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

???

A place that are unknown to humankind, no one has ever been in it and no one has ever witness it... In the middle of nowhere, there's a tree, similar to cherry blossom tree but instead of a pink petals, there's a music note on some branches of the tree.

There's only a single person that inhabit in this place, she alone have a duty to help people find their true feeling and help them get through with it. She could ask her friends to help her but she believes this is her job and to help the poor soul who's been through much.

As she look around the Sekai that has been created from some certain children's feelings, she noticed some weird bug on some certain Sekai. 5 Sekai specifically... Even though those 5 Sekai haven't been discover yet by the host.

She look at those 5 Sekai in curiosity as she wondering what the cause of it. Is the true host have a problem, is the problem they are currently in is too much for them?

Before she could check on one of those Sekai, suddenly she saw a yellow dust coming out from one of it. She was surprised and look closely at that specific Sekai.

The Empty Sekai is what she called it with how much nothing is in it, she herself wondering what exactly happen in that host's mind but couldn't exactly see it clearly.

As she watch those yellow dust coming out from that Sekai suddenly it stopped. She observe the Sekai closely again and find there's no problem in it... Weird...

Is it just her or something is actually happening outside of the Sekai?

——SEGA——

Knightonia (Knights' Academy)

Today is the day, the 5 students from Knights' Academy are finally gonna graduate and become a true knight tomorrow. They also gonna be accepting the shield symbolizes their honor and loyalty to the Knightonia. As one of the student that's gonna graduate, Clay Moorington, is in the training ground, practicing for his tomorrow performance as a knight for his graduation.

Macy, his friend and one of the students that's gonna graduate, is currently at the castle. Might try to convince her father that she should graduate to be a knight, her mother probably let her but not so sure for her father however. Aaron, also one of his friends and gonna graduate too, is currently at his home, probably have a time for his family and telling them about his graduation.

Axl, his friends and also gonna graduate, at his home, might be celebrating and preparing a meal for his family. Lance, he is not sure if he is his friend or not but still, Lance is gonna graduate tomorrow, probably at his home with his family to celebrate or just off somewhere to do his acting career...

Clay had finally done his training, exhausted by all the dummies he hit and score. The squirebots that have been here with him seems to notice his exhaustion and go away to brought some water for the young man.

Just as they run away, Clay sit on the bench that's been on the training ground and try to collect his mind. To say the truth, he is kind of nervous... Just as Clay gonna clear his mind with reading the Knight's Code, suddenly he hear a sound from besides him. It was a Nexo Phone, a "gift" from Lance. Saying he could use outside connection as well.

Well, he is not going to deny, he is pretty much a reserve person but still! As he glance at his phone, he noticed a title on it.

Clay grab his phone to read it, "Untitled?" He said in confusion. With curiosity on his mind, he press the word.

——SEGA——

???

A lonely white hair girl walking around aimlessly, it seems her host is not gonna be here today. As she walk around the empty world of hers, suddenly a yellow light suddenly appear.

What? Mafuyu here? But that light is far off from how she enter here? She did not summon someone else, right?

Just as the girl cover herself from the bright yellow light, the light finally faded. She slowly uncover her eyes to take a peak at the newcomer. It was a young man, wearing a weird clothing? It is not the same clothes as Mafuyu sometimes wear, though it might be because of different gender but still, it is a bit off...

The young man also notice her as he didn't say and just stare at her. Might be too shocked to say or do anything. Unlike Mafuyu, the first she first came here, she started to ask a question but none of that question of her bring any surprised or shocked tone.

The young man however seems lost and confused. He look at the girl, seems to be on guard, "Um, where am I?" He asked.

The girl look at him with blank expression but no malice in it, "You are in Empty Sekai, created by the host's feelings." The girl answer, not wanting to share Mafuyu's name, in case this man might be a dangerous comer to Mafuyu...

"Sekai?" The young man said, "What does it mean?"

"A Sekai means for "World", this Sekai you are in is currently a world created by the host's feelings," the girl reply.

"World? Host's feelings? Then, where is the host that created this world?" The young man ask.

"She's... Not here..." The girl said, feels a bit nervous. This newcomer ask too much questions and the girl felt a bit good to have someone to talk with other than Mafuyu but she has no idea who's this man anyway.

The young man seems to notice the girl's nervousness, and quickly try to avoid it, "Ah, how about we introduce ourselves?" After the young man said it, the girl look at him in surprised, "I'll start, my name is Clay Moorington. Nice to meet you...?"

Clay Moorington? Sounds like a foreign name... The girl seems to notice she have to introduce herself next, "Hatsune Miku, I am from the Empty Sekai. Here, we are currently at the Empty Sekai."

Clay seems to be brighten by it, "I see." Clay said, he then look around the Sekai. It just as Miku said, it's an Empty Sekai. There's nothing here but a few blocks and some pole...

This Sekai is truly empty, but for what reason for it to be empty? Clay is not empathetic enough to know about emotions but he knows well, emotion have a meaning on some certain condition behind it.

But even if it's empty, Clay can't help but feel the warm in here. It felt warm, like how Merlok help him to read a book from his library, or how he, Macy, and Jestro are hanging out together... But again, the feeling of emptiness seems to be occupied on his heart...

He look at Miku, who staring at him as she seems to notice something. He sighs, "I am sorry for intruding, I didn't mean to come here... It seems to be an accident on my behalf..."

Miku shake her head, "No, you are not. It might be a mistake as well..." Miku said.

"Well, I, myself, feel a bit confusing on this circumstances but how do I get myself out of here?" Clay asked.

"Well, do you have your phone with you?" Miku asked.

Clay brought out his phone and show it to Miku, she continue, "Go to the song "Untitled" that you play, and press it again on the play button to pause it. That way, you can leave this Sekai..."

Clay smile softly at the explanation, "I see, thank you, Miku..." Clay said.

Just before he could press the song to pause it, he hear a soft voice from Miku, "Um, if by chance, could you come here again?" Miku ask.

Clay heard it and look at her, he doesn't know how to answer nor did he even think about coming back... But again, this girl, this world, he can't help but wanting to be here again. Want to feel that warmth again. That warmth, not like Merlok, not like Macy or Jestro. This warm is different from any of them... And yet, still empty.

He smile, but it didn't reach his eyes, "I will, if I had a chance to be here again..." He said as he press the play button to pause the song.

And just like that, the bright yellow surrounded him and then faded as he disappear. Miku, still standing at where she is before, look around and look at her hand palm. She's not dreaming, right? Or hallucinated?

As she making sure she's none of that, she notice a small speck of yellow dust at where Clay stands before. She slowly walk towards it and observe the dust...

What's exactly happened?

#lego nexo knights #hatsune miku colorful stage #lego nexo knights x hatsune miku colorful stage #clay moorington #hatsune miku

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octahedral-chaos · 28 days

Note

Valorant loved a good fight. She loved how the rush of adrenaline made her feel more alive than anything ever since the end of Runeterra and even coming back to the past. How grounded she felt in the pain and ache of a good spar. How she felt so, so real.

And most of all, she loved how violent she can get away with in battle.

She was born of blood. Blood that was spilled for war.

There will always be a calling back to battle in her heart, no matter how content and peaceful she is.

But just as she was violent, people never really came to her for any purposes other than official or professional reasons.

So imagine her surprise when Garen Crownguard of all people approached during her time with a practice dummy.

The poor life sized doll was already missing multiple limbs from the sheer strength of Valorant’s blows. The left arm was torn off, both legs were broken, and the other arm was barely hanging on to the main body. The cloth and wooden body was in tatters, a very concerning hole was in the part where Valorant ripped it out with a brutality only seen in the thickest of battles. A very dented and caved in mageseeker mask was tied on to the head, the mage’s fist still in the crater it made.

“Lady Val.” He greeted her, though his voice was even, she can tell how much of his self control is being tested right now. She sensed the conflict under all the layers of metal and walls he built himself over the years.

Valorant slowly turned her head to the Captain of the Dauntless Vanguard. The glass beads that made up her ‘hair’ clinked softly. Under her dual masks, there was a type of feral madness in her nonexistent eyes of her paper and glass body. The glass hand unfurled from a fist and into a claw, digging into the wooden head, and tearing it off with a sickening crack of wood followed by a shower of splinters.

Underneath all of that armor, she saw him flinch. She also saw everyone that decided to watch flinch as well.

“Sir Crownguard.” She replied indifferently, tossing the head to his feet. Rolling pitifully before it stopped at his toes. The glass hand crushing the mask into useless scraps of silver and gold. “What message do you bring?” She asked, tilting her head. Is this about last night? How she managed to smuggle in a claymore into her own debutante ball? Or is it how she absolutely demolished the wall with her first break in? She fixed it!

“There is no message.”

What?

“I came to…” He seemed reluctant to be here. “Take the Crown Prince’s place as your sparring partner today, as he is busy with matters of the state today.” He finished.

She sees Luxana in her peripherals. Hard not to. With all her light shining.

Ah. So Father is busy today? Well… let’s see how much she can get away with.

“Alright,” She chirped cheerfully, he recoiled, clearly not expecting her to sound so happy at this prospect. Then her voice gained an edge as she said: “I would like to challenge you in a phantom duel!”

Garen’s eyebrows furrowed. “Excuse me?” What in Runeterra did she mean?

Valorant kicked the dummy out of bounds, walking to the racks filled with the training swords. Taking a sword and a shield with her.

She started to etch runes into the sword, “A phantom duel is a duel where you aim to fatally harm or kill your opponent.”

Before anyone could protest, she continued. Finishing the runes of the first sword, the wood shifting into a thinner and lighter sword that looked more like an enlarged knife. No crossguard attached to it, only the handle connecting to the short end of a diamond shaped blade that was elongated on the other tip. “But the weapons are enchanted to leave no physical harm, only a lesser and phantom pain of the blows made.”

She moved on to her shield, “ Upon the fatal or killing blow, the weapon will shatter.”

She picked both of her chosen equipment up. She turned to Garen again. His hand is on his own sword. Unsurprising.

“Since you obviously don’t trust me in any capacity, I’ll allow you to use your own sword.” Turning her shield over to make sure the correct enchantments are on it.

Valorant leisurely walked over to her side of the first field, twirling her sword as she turned back. “A bit of warning,” she added, “I will change between weapons and fighting styles, so if you wish to, you can cheat.”

The Captain looked appalled at her, even suggesting he take an advantage in battle.

“This is a fight to kill, no rules of formal combat apply if you want to stay alive.” She reminds him. “So, if you want to avoid being clobbered, I suggest you take what you can.”

He looked reluctant to follow her into the field, but he did anyway.

Valorant rolled her shoulders in preparation, twirling her sword on more as Garen drew his own sword from his back.

She teleported to him the moment his sword was in both of his hands. If this were a real battle, she would have teleported earlier.

The clang of wood on metal rang out as he managed to block her first attack. Valorant grinned, knowing the cards she hid up her sleeves.

Garen pushed her back, charging towards her with a strike of his own; she responded with her shield raised to block it, prepping a lighting strike that would have run true if he didn’t parry it with his sword. Taking the opening, she started to push him back with slash after slash. He had no choice but to keep his guard up. She took a gamble and charged up her heavy attack, sweeping her sword in two wide arcs upwards. It collided with his sword, but the blow forced it away, letting her second attack strike true. The pure force of it sent him upwards. She teleported up and continued to take the opening with three successive slashes before she shoved her sword into the grain of the shield, the wood shifting to make a battle ax. In a single devastating arc, she slammed it down on him. Sending the both of them back down. A crater had formed from where she slammed him down. In two more spins, her ax fell with two more blows of blunt force on the Captain. Knowing full well of the phantom pain he is feeling. She jumped away, waiting for him to recover. It took a moment, but soon he was stumbling back on to his feet.

“Your turn~” She trilled in a sing-song voice. A madness coating it.

He spat out a wad of blood, wiping away the residue before charging back at her.

She parried every blow he threw at her. She even stood against his spinning attack! Worlds, she was a bit rusty. She hasn’t executed any perfect parries in a while. But her shield held. And it started to glow. Good, her Guard Impact is charged enough, and she has two techniques stacked. She just needs to switch.

Wood and metal clanged against each other once more, Val pushing Garen away by surrounding herself with an ice field. As the ground around her feet glowed slightly with frost blooming at each step, she proceeded to shift. Dark glass was revealed as her paper husk folded itself back, vanishing along with her wooden equipment as she ran towards the Crownguard once more. Now a black body of glass instead of pristine white paper.

This time, her dark claws and kicks struck steel. She followed up her attack with a barrage of seals made to sap away at strength. Then her glass whip, each painful strike added to the sapping effect. Soon after Garen struck back, this time, she didn’t even bother to whip out her shield. Opting to block every attack with her bare glass hands. Though, the cracks in her body would fracture even more with each clang.

Soon her hands were glowing, one orange and bright, the other dim and blue.

Almost. Just wait a little longer.

Just until…

She sees the magic gathering. She sees it growing.

Finally.

Drawing her hand of blue back as she watched Garen raise his sword to the sky, calling down Justice.

She scoffed as she watched the magic fall above her in the form of a fiery sword made out of a piece of Kayle’s magic.

How pathetic.

Time seemed to slow for her as she waited.

And waited.

There.

It started slow. Like how it always does. She just pushes the magic away, just a little. Then she lets her momentum from her body pass to the sword, letting it turn away from its course to the earth as she spun it around. Again and again.

Until the magic turned blue and healed her willingly, flooding her with so much magic. But she needs more. More and more. It’s never enough. Not like her Runes. She sighed as time seemed to catch up to what she had done. And changed up her counter strike.

As soon as her mind decided to break free of the timelessness, she immediately ricochet the blast of blue and black magic back at Garen…

Only to be blocked by Jarvan. Shattering the shield he picked up.

“Enough Val!”

She yelled at him with a hard edge to her voice, “This is between me and him! Stay out of it!”

Lunging at Garen again, ignoring the cries for her to stop, Valorant shoved her sword into the grain of her shield again, swinging her axe down on him. Both Captain and Prince dived out of the way.

“Duel’s not done yet.”

“I’m not done yet.”

OH MY STARS?!

I love this so much! Also noticed Val's fighting style seems pretty similar to the Duo! Love seeing the nod to them.

Also Val's absolutely brutal and I love her for that-

#OCTAfan says stuff #OCTAfan answers #Others' ocs: Valorant #Chaosandtoomuchideas #Tw blood #Tw all caps #Long post #Ask to tag

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kitcam-the-great · 2 years

Text

A Humbling Origin Story

(Fantastic cover art by @WillowzzA on Twitter! Please go check out her art as it is fantastic!!)

⬇️Ao3 Link ⬇️

Author’s Note: I wanted to cause The Sheriff (aka Jimmy) some pain, so therefore decided to add meaningless significance to his encounter with the Warden.

Now anyone would be afraid of the creature. One sound and you’re done for, but what makes Jimmy’s encounter so special. Why is he, the law, so afraid of this blind creature?

What if I told you that his encounter with Gem wasn’t his first?

•-•{🌟}•-•

Tumble Town.

A bustling little community smack down in the center of the desolate mesa. And though it serves as the hotspot for gunpowder farming and trading, it is home to one of the lands largest, and deepest, coal and gold mines.

Jimmy, the honorable Sheriff of the busy little town, remembers the day they opened up the mines. He remembers all the adults placing bets on how much they’d be able to bring back, the ridiculous fortunes they’d make. He remembers kids, just a little older than he was, telling stories about all the monsters one would find in those caves. How easily they could take any of them down if they had the right tools. Hell, they didn’t need tools. They were brave and big and strong. Something that poor little Jimmy was not.

You see Jimmy throughout his childhood was always used as a scapegoat, a test dummy. Constantly picked on for his size and easily tricked into getting into trouble with the locals. He felt worse than little. He felt small.

When stories of the deep dark made its way round the town, the older kids all turned to that pathetic little kid they loved to beat up, and Jimmy was having none of it.

“Get a load of this guy! Y’all really think he’s gonna come out of those caves alive?”

“Yeah right! Lil’ twerp wouldn’t last a day in there?”

Three boys began to circle Jimmy like vultures, eager to grab him and toss him around.

“Leave me alone!”

Was all he could muster up in that time.

“Y’know I’m willing to bet he wouldn’t even last a whole dang minute in that there mine!”

Jimmy spoke up again

“I so could!!”

Two boys then began pushing him back and forth toward each other, with each tug rougher than the last. They laughed at the way he began to tear up.

“Lookie here, brother! He thinks he can take on all them monsters, but here he is cryin’ his lil’ eyes out!”

“Aww what’s the matter lil’ baby? Can’t handle a lil’ tustle? Go on! Cry some more pipsqueak!”

“Maybe the monsters will feel bad and leave ya alone!”

They gave him one final shove into the ground, practically howling at how hard he hit his head in the rough terracotta.

Jimmy just cried. He knew he wasn’t as strong as they were, nor as cruel. What made him so sure he could say he would last at all in the mines? God why was he so stupid? So so stupid.

“Alrighty fellas, simmer down a bit. Cause I got an idea.”

Out of the blue, the older of the lot spoke up.

“Now lil’ bitty Jim here thinks he can waltz on into those mines no problemo! I say we give him a shot.”

The other two boys’ faces began to contort in confusion.

Jimmy’s eyes grew wide with fear.

“Yeah. Y’all know what? How ‘bout tonight we all head up to the mines, go down the deepest cave and give the lil’ fella a good ol’ fashioned send off?”

Now the boys’ confused expressions slowly turned into crooked smiles.

“B-But I can’t- I’m not g-gonna-“

Jimmy stammered out, but he was interrupted by the older boy sloppily hoisting him off the ground.

“Oh sure ya can pal! You been out here sayin’ you’d be able to last in there! Now’s your time to shine! Innit boys?”

Despite the contrasting emotions, through sheer reading of each other's expressions, the four boys could all come together on one thing: this would be one hell of a night.

•-•-•-•-•

Midnight was a risky time to be out in the lonely lands of the mesa. Plenty of space for mobs to crawl out of the depths of the dark and roam the flat and dusty surface.

Regardless, the path to the mines, and down it for that matter, were relatively well lit. It helped even more that the oldest brought a bright burning torch of his own with him. It was just them and the sounds of the depths below.

For the record, none of these boys had ever set foot in the mines. Jimmy hadn’t ever gotten a chance to even see the entrance of it first hand. So for this to be his first adventure was certainly a step up somewhere..

Despite it all the first few moments of the expedition were rather peaceful, apart from the occasional jump scare from one of the older kids. The cave was nice and cool and was brilliantly lit up with torches and the occasional glowberry vines.

The sounds of rushing water eased his fears, especially after seeing two playful axolotls splashing about their little pools. If it weren’t for the circumstances earlier, this would be exciting, relaxing even.

The best part of it all, there were no encounters with mobs. Granted the occasional growl of a zombie or the hiss of a creeper were heard, but only at a great distance. The travel party hadn’t had a face to face encounter.

Now to Jimmy this was fantastic, but the other boys were getting bored. They wanted to scare the kid, not take him on a joy ride. That’s the whole reason they made up those stories. About the darkness and the ancient cities. It’s what those archeologists were talking about when the mines opened up.

Then they hit a snag. The light of the torches dwindled down to almost nothing.

The stone they walked on faded into deep slate then into something they hadn’t seen before. It was soft, like grass, but it was deep blue in color with little flickers of white and cyan.

The walls around them soon enough we’re coated with the stuff. There were pretty soon no more torches. Only blue lanterns.

The only familiar light they had was that of their one torch.

“The hell are we..?”

“Beats me..”

They continued to walk around aimlessly, oddly careful not to make too much noise. Not like anything was watching, or listening..

All the boys jumped at the sound of a bat squealing and flapping its wings, flying overhead and landing on a different part of the cave roof. And then they heard something else.

A deep, gurgling sound..

Taking their eyes away from the bat and lowering them down to a strange looking warped plant. It matches whatever they were walking on, though seemingly lighter in color, and had wavy stems.

The boys inched closer, quietly.

“What is that..?”

“Heck if I know. Some kinda weird plant thing-“

Their whispers were interrupted by the bat again, who decided it was bored of its new spot and looked for its old one. The squealing and flapping caught the attention of this fauna, and lit it up instantly. It made that same grumbling noise.

All of a sudden the fear of the two brothers in the group turned into curiosity.

“Aw cool! It senses sound. Wonder if it’ll pick up Jimmy screaming later!”

The two of them snickered.

Jimmy was unamused, and seemingly the oldest was as well. He kept looking around up, torch high up in the air.

“You think it’ll hear this?”

One of them said, jumping as high as they could and landing with a loud thud. And sure enough the sensor did. Lighting up instantly upon contact with the vibrations.

“Oh oh! What about this!”

The other one also jumped, this time repeatedly. The sensor lit up again, grumbling in sync with each thud.

The boys were having fun, and Jimmy was apprehensive. He slowly creeped towards them.

“Hey you guys, knock it off! Something could hear us!”

And now their fun was spoiled.

“Like what? A zombie?”

One said in a mocking tone.

“What about a skeleton?”

“You think a creeper could light up this thing?”

“I mean- if a bat could..”

They were so distracted by their curiosity that they didn’t notice the sensor lighting up with their voices. Now Jimmy was beginning to panic, and spoke up again, careful about not being too loud.

“Come on you guys, stop it! It can hear you!”

“Woah! Just by us talking? Neat!”

“What about IF I YELLED!!”

The sensor grumbled long and deep. Keeping it’s light up for the longest it’s been. And the brothers looked at each other, and cackled. Back and forth they started to let out the biggest yells and hollers they could. Followed by the sensor’s gurgling sounds after.

Jimmy backed away, covering his ears and shutting his eyes tight. He began to tear up, afraid of what was going to happen next. The oldest boy spoke up soon enough. Curiously also looking frightened.

“Y’all stop that! We ain’t alone here!”

All the brothers did was laugh at the stupid sounds the sensor made after them. They kept screaming.

“Y’all I’m not kiddin’ around anymore! Cut it out!”

But they didn’t. They continued to scream and shout. The sensor gurgled long and hard and soon after came another scream.

But it wasn’t their own.

“Shit..”

The group turned, with the light of the torch, eying what it was that shrieked. Another plant looking thing, only a lot less plant, and a lot more structured. There were pillars at each corner, and dead center where swirling lights, with faces..

Then, everything went dark. The light of the torch completely burnt out. What followed was the rumbling sounds of the depths below. The ground began to shake. The rumbles became louder, the walls started to shake. Rocks and lanterns fell from the cave walls and ceiling. Then the most horrifying sound they’d heard all night.

The ground was broken, and from it emerged the most horrific thing they boys could hardly see.

“Is that..?”

“Oh hell!”

“RUN FOR IT!”

The three bullies booked it to the opening they came from, their screams of terror only attracting the beast towards them. Jimmy tried to run for it too, but with just his luck he dropped over a fallen rock. The thud of the ground altered the sensor which then alerted yes the shrieker, which finally alerted.. that..

That thing..

Jimmy looked up ever so slightly. He just wanted to really see what he was dealing with.

This beast was massive. Tall and wide, it’s head with nothing but a gaping void in the middle. It looked like it had horns or antlers, decorated in whatever the stuff they were walking on was.

The body was the word part. Its arms were long, thick, like tree stumps with sharp claws, same with its legs. Its ribs were exposed, another endless void with swirling lights with faces inside, similar to the ones of the shrieker.

Perhaps they weren’t lights at all..

It marched closer towards where Jimmy was lying. Stalking its arms across the floor, sniffing the air.

Jimmy didn’t dare move. He didn’t dare speak, hell he didn’t dare breathe. He shut his eyes tight as the creature finally stopped, inches away from him..

It lowered its head towards the small quivering boy, and sniffed. He could feel its breath on him. He couldn’t stop shaking. He was scared. He wanted to go home, he wanted to scream and cry and run far far away. But he couldn’t.

If he made one sound, he was sure to be condemned to die.

Once the creature had finished, it seemingly decided there was nothing there. It groaned in frustration, as if its prey had run away from it. Then it let out a loud and long gut wrenching roar into the cave.

Jimmy quickly curled up and covered his ears. Opening his eyes slightly he noticed it wasn’t hovering over him anymore, so he decided to make a break for the exit.

He didn’t care to notice the sensor or the shrieker. He didn’t care to notice that whatever that thing was was chasing him from behind. He wanted to get the hell out of there.

With every ounce of whatever strength he had left, Jimmy climbed up the mushy surface and eventually reached the cobbled deep slate. The beast was clawing at the walls right underneath him.

He was just catching his breath, thinking he’d made it out scott free, but then a low groan was heard from it. Jimmy backed away slightly. The creature roared in anger, building up all the force it had.

Whatever was inside its ribs lit up. Whatever, it was just angry, Jimmy thought of it in hurry. He began to run when he was suddenly hit by a booming force. It knocked him into the cave wall, which was just beginning to be filled with torches again.

Jimmy yelped in pain, ears ringing. He struggled to his feet, arm against the wall. His whole body ached, his legs were shaky, hands were covered in blisters and cuts. He tried to make his way again, when again, another forceful shockwave hit. It was far too much pain to bear.

The last thing Jimmy heard before knocking out cold, was the roar of the warden. This time, sounding like one of victory.

-•-•-•-•-

The following morning was a trying one for Tumble Town. The boys went home crying to their families about what they’d done and what they saw. Locals were speechless and upon hearing that four went in and only three made it out drew the concern of many.

Miners and a few archeologists were sent in to investigate. One excavator was venturing past the lush cave into the deep slate, when he heard a coughing noise. He looked around, lantern in hand then noticed a small, curled up Jimmy. Battered and bruised head to toe.

He quickly called for assistance, and soon enough Jimmy was pulled out of the caves and out of the mines.

He returned to Tumble Town, the kid who was said to be killed by the beast of the deep dark. He was bombarded with questions from several other kids, bullies included.

“How’d you make it outta there?”

“Were you scared?”

“Did ya fight 'em off?”

“Dang you gotta have some serious balls to take on that thing!”

And one right after the other the comments and questions wouldn’t stop. The boy who survived the warden. The bravest of the bunch. Who would’ve thought it to be lil Jimmy Solidarity.

He, however, tuned it all out. He was still far too stunned. Jimmy simply limped back to his small hut by the ranch.

His parents would be proud, he heard some folks say. He was a real trooper, he heard from others. He didn’t care to hear it at the time. He weakly waddled into his crooked bed, wrapped himself in his old yet soft blankets and started sobbing.

The next few days were normal, well as normal as they could be. Jimmy was not treated like some sort of prodigy rather than that scrawny kid people loved to pick on.

Amongst it all he began to realize something. People were treating him differently. Better than before, because of the horrifying thing he faced. They practically called him a hero.

If he could grow up to be that someone that everyone respected, that everyone feared, then he’d be on top of the world.

So thanks to that humbling experience, Jimmy, now being raised by the local saloon keepers, learned two valuable things.

One. No one was ever going see that they got to him anymore. All they’re going to see is just how badly they’d messed up.

Two. Never underestimate the importance of carrying a revolver with you.

•-•-•-•-•

Tumble Town continues to thrive, and as it stands is an incredibly charming and welcoming little city. There would always be a reason for the locals to be celebrating and playing loud music late into the warm evenings.

The saloon keepers, a sweet couple they are, continue to feed and look after everyone they could. Including Jimmy. They were never able to have any children of their own, so after seeing Jimmy in absolute tatters after his adventure they couldn’t risk him being out there alone again.

And boy howdy were they ever so grateful. And so goddang proud of just how strong and brave he’s become.

Guess all The Sheriff needed was a sonic boom in the right direction.

#empires smp #empires season 2 #empires jimmy #jimmy solidarity #solidaritygaming #mcyt #mcyt fanart #mcyt fanfiction #headcanon backstory #I’m genuinely real proud of this #and go follow Willow on Twitter rn #do it cowards

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