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some-bunniii · 2 months

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ayo some luci angst just popped into my head, like….

imagine Lucifer falling in love with an employee at the hotel but their soul is owned by alastor and like?? luci is not happy about that.

*slams google docs on table, opens random 1.2k wrd snippet #234* behold…

x: GN!reader, no use of y/n

EDIT: read the full fic here

“What is this?”

Lucifer had asked suddenly, his pupils dilated, trained on something against your throat.

You sat on the edge of your bed, thumbs rubbing together in a soothing motion as you watched him move closer to you. Gulping, you parted your lips to speak.

You didn’t get a chance to say anything, before his hand gingerly lifted towards you. His nail grazed against your collarbone, and heat blossomed underneath your skin from his touch.

‘Please, just stop here,’ you silently begged, eyes squeezing shut as his finger rested against your figure, ‘don’t ruin this moment by digging any farther.’

Your reaction only spurred him, however. Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, his pupils thin slits now as he watched you.

Slowly, his finger trailed upward, skin brushing softly against yours as he traced the invisible force only a powerful demon could see. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, every movement of his only quickening its pace.

Until his hand stopped, right in the middle of your neck, and you felt a sizzling against your skin. The heat was becoming too much, and you wanted to pull away from his touch. You didn’t, instead, you tensed, deathly still before him.

A soft golden light illuminated from Lucifer’s palm, as his fingers wrapped around an invisible object. A shadow formed in his grip, and he tugged at it, that glow in his palm growing stronger.

Backing away, he pulled a long, thin chain from your figure, it snaked from your throat as it followed his grasp.

He yanked it harshly, as if trying to free you of a parasite that found a home deep in your bones. But it only dragged across the floor, refusing to dislodge itself from your body.

A thick, metal collar snuggly encompassed your throat. The chain locked tightly against it, a vivid reminder of your poor decisions.

Lucifer’s palm slid across the cold, metal links. Eldritch magic seeped from its form in the shroud of thick fog. Archaic symbols danced at the edge of your vision as its glow illuminated Lucifer’s unreadable expression.

The chain was a sickly green, its harsh glow an annoyance to his eyes. It was embedded with a dark, chilling magic. Whispers of untold horrors and ancient curses coiling around you, promises of a fate worse than death.

Lucifer could practically smell it, that red demon's aura as it encircled around your frame. A twisted signature, practically scrawled across your forehead like a stamp of ownership.

Oh, the audacity of a person to take such a kind, selfless soul and rip it away from its owner.

You weren’t some dog to be beckoned at the flick of a wrist. You were so much more than that, you deserved so much more than that.

Yet here you were, the clasp around your neck like a shadowed hand, softly squeezing the life out of your eyes. He could see it, clear as day.

Small, white horns protruded from his head as he clenched the chain tighter. He tugged it once, twice, as if testing its durability. You leaned back slightly, the chain becoming taught between the two of you.

That collar around your throat kept you locked in place, as you watched him turn the chain in his hands. For a moment, Lucifer’s figure melded into the horrid shadow of your owner, and your eyes widened in fear at your delusion.

You could see it, feel it. Your stomach brushing the stained carpet beneath you with that haunting figure bent in a sickly, twisted angle in front you. That chain wrapped around the radio demon’s hand as he threatened you with terrible acts if you failed to stay in line.

Seeing your face contort into pained anguish only caused Lucifer to bare his teeth slightly, the sharp edges glinting in the light.

Seeing it so deeply entwined with your very being only further spurred the king’s anger. It seeped quietly from him, his grip tight against the chains as if trying to snap them with his bare hands.

“Who did this?” He hissed, his gaze boring into yours. He wanted to hear you say that demon’s name, wanted to hear you confirm the truth that was so obvious in front of him.

You knew he wasn’t angry at you, but still you bowed your head slightly. Averting your gaze from his pleading eyes, shame slowly clawing at your stomach. For a moment, you felt like throwing up. Wanting to rid yourself of the terrible feeling that was seeping into your skin.

You felt like crying, or throwing yourself into his arms. Wanting to melt into his hold, and be told again and again that everything would be alright. That the most powerful man in hell would come to your rescue.

But, deals that bartered in souls are a much more difficult magic to conquer.

Fighting the urge to collapse into his embrace, you steeled yourself. Hands planted against your knees, back straight in a pathetic attempt to have some kind of power in this moment.

Your eyes sullenly traced across the harsh links of the chain, its form all too familiar by now. Yet, it still caused such grief in your bones no matter how many times you looked upon it over the years.

Slowly, your eyes shifted to meet his gaze. Your lips curved into a frown at his expression, and your predicament.

How were you supposed to tell the love of your life your soul didn’t belong to you? That you were trapped in a deal of your own making?

Curse that little fine line in your deal that kept your mouth sealed shut, that prevented you from uttering his name.

“I-I..” You desperately tried to speak, to tell him the truth, but that invisible hand that pulled at your tongue forced your silence. Tears pricked at your eyes, the desperation in them evident as your attempts to explain only died behind those pretty lips of yours.

As your mouth shut in frustration, Lucifer’s anger only heightened. His eyes flared into a blood-red glow, a harsh change from that soft yellow radiance you often found yourself lost in.

He pivoted harshly away, his voice contorting into a snarl as he stalked out of the room. His overcoat appeared atop his shoulders, and it swished behind him as he moved.

Lucifer’s thoughts were too tangled with the images of his claws wrapping around the deal-makers throat to sit there and console you.

The tears that had threatened to spill finally rolled down your cheeks, your lip quivering as your eyes lingered on the doorway he had just exited. His thoughts too mangled with the image of his claws wrapping around the deal-makers throat to sit there and console you.

Placing your face into your hands, you sobbed quietly.

Oh, how that regret had begun to consume you as you continued to wallow in your self-pity.

Regret, for thinking that giving away your soul was a simple feat. That somehow, you’d still be happy after the fact.

Regret, for falling in love when you knew the deal that kept you to that deer demon’s side would never allow you to enjoy such a fleeting emotion. No matter how hard you clawed to Lucifer’s soft embrace, that chain would always be there to drag you back.

Those soft whispers of affections, of promises you couldn’t keep. Knowing, one day, that constant-smiling demon could play his little games and tear you away from your lover’s hold forever.

Oh, what a lovestruck idiot you are.

thoughts?? this is just an interesting concept to me and i rlly wanted to share it with you guys! i woke up at like 4:30 am today and was like ‘what if..’ and this is what came of it haha

and mmm alastor makes a such a good bad guy too depending on the context x)

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #bunni’s tidbits #it’s been at the back of my head for awhile and i just needed to get it out haha #so many ideas in dis little noggin but only two hands jnxbsjbsns #imma just start sharing with yall all my little lightbulbs in my head hehe

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dotster001 · 9 months

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Whispers End

Summary: a for tuna custom content Ending

CW:Yan behavior, manipulation, angst, hypnosis

A/N: I did a Tuna Tuesday entry two weeks in a row! Everyone be proud of me! Ps. You can vote on the next end here

Part One Part Two Part Three Choose Another End

Jamil was patient.

Always patient.

He had laid the foundations.

And now it was time to act.

"Kalim, you're just too immature for me! This is the last straw!"

Jamil watched from the corner as Grim hastily tried to calm you down, and Kalim tried to wrap you in his arms and rock you. Something that had always worked on you before. Much to Jamil's dismay.

But he was stronger after the years of building up his control over you. Stronger than your apparent real love for Kalim.

And luckily for him, both Grim and Kalim were too stupid to have ever noticed the red tint that appeared in your eyes just days after you and Kalim got together.

Literally, Kalim had done nothing. He had made dinner and made it spicier than you liked, by complete accident. The only reason Jamil had chosen this moment to make you his, was because he had finally overpowered the true love in your heart. It had been acting like a shield. But now you'd be his.

"Y/N, please, let's just sit together a moment."

Kalim had the patience of a saint. He was convinced you were sick with something. He wasn't entirely wrong. You did have a parasite controlling your thoughts.

"No. Kalim," you exhaled angrily, seeming to collect yourself. "Kalim, I never loved you. I've always loved Jamil, and I have reason to believe he loves me. If you truly love me, you'll let us be together."

Kalim's eyes filled with tears, but he dropped his arms to his sides, muttering something Jamil couldn't hear. Probably giving you permission to love him.

But Grim…Grim's eyes widened and he gasped, full understanding dawning in his face.

"Wait-" he started, looking to the corner Jamil was hiding in.

Jamil hastily muttered a "Snake whisper" and sighed in relief as Grim's eyes tinted red, and he calmed down.

You and Kalim shared a hug, and you left the room. When you saw Jamil standing in the corner, you smiled excitedly, yet nervously.

"Jamil! Kalim said we could be together!" You chewed your lip, and dropped your eyes to the floor, fidgeting with one of the many rings Kalim had gifted you over the years.

"That is, if you want me-"

You barely finished the statement when his arms were around you, his hand keeping your head pressed to his, his tongue invading your mouth like the parasite he was.

Yes. Jamil was patient.

And patience always pays off.

The end.

....

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estro-gem · 6 months

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Jax x Ragatha: The snake and the water spring

The Amazing Digital Circus AU: Oasis.

Author's note: I found this show by chance and I took a great liking to it! So now I did a thing, instead of studying for upcoming exams, because I love making things difficult for myself, apparently.

I have no idea what the fandom is like, but I'm playing it safe just to be... well... safe. I just loved the concept of this show so much that I couldn't help but be inspired by it! It got me thinking and I let it all out in this... thing.

I want to write more one-shot fics about the other characters and how they fit into this au too, but I don't know when I'll be able to.

WARNING! None of these characters are mine and everything mentioned and described is purely made-up fiction; inspired by works that are not my own. Nothing should be considered canon or taken seriously - we are all here to have some harmless fun! No age restrictions. I think this might be appropriate for all ages...?

Please show some love and support for Gooseworx; the creator of The Amazing Digital Circus!

I definitely butchered Gooseworx's characters by adding unnecessary 'relationship dynamics' and deviating from their original personalities. I promise that the actual show and characters are so much better than they are in my false portrayal of them.

SUMMARY:

A fanmade take on the events following Pomni's arrival and after the crew had dinner together. This is focused on Jax's point of view, but still written in the third person.

Jax confronts Ragatha after the pilot episode's 'dinner' and does his best to comfort her in a way that works for them. That's it.

Please enjoy!

THE SNAKE AND THE WATER SPRING

Jax was a desert snake.

Nothing but a cold-blooded pest that lived to find his next meal.

When one is left to die under the scorching sun, you can’t stomp on the sun for creating a desert, but you could stomp on the desert snake if it added to the pain of surviving in said desert. The Digital Realm was nothing but a desert sun – a cage with no exit and an evil with no target.

It was no secret why so many had lost their minds here.

Jax took on the role of being the snake. It was never announced or planned, but it was deemed necessary by all who came to know the realm. The inhabitants of The Amazing Digital Circus craved any sense of control; something they could hold accountable for their torment – something they could punish. A menace, parasite.

Evil with a target: Jax.

It was fun to act out while everybody went about their lives. He could unapologetically be the worst being known to man and thrive on the rage and hatred of all he had affected. If they hated him, he was fulfilling his role perfectly… and that meant they could stay sane and do their parts as he did his. Less people would be lost to insanity… and the group would grow stronger.

Everyone had a role in their system – an oasis was established, with Ragatha as the heart of the oasis; their very own water spring.

But when a new invading creature bursts into the oasis with no knowledge of this system, their system would be doomed. Pomni happened to be that invader. Everyone could collectively, yet silently agree that she was acting by her own careless devices since she arrived a few hours ago. She greedily soaked up their water source and left it barren, dry, and suffering.

Granted, Pomni didn’t know how their oasis worked, but it didn’t change the fact that she disrupted everything by showing up. She would have to catch on quickly and prove herself useful, before anyone else loses their minds.

They lost one of their own already… and they almost lost their beloved Ragatha; Jax’s equal and opposite.

Their precious water source.

Snakes offered venom, while water springs offered hope of life. They all desperately needed Ragatha to survive. While most would assume her to be fine after being fixed by Caine, Jax knew better than that. He saw her reluctantly stand aside Pomni to support her – beautifully acting within her role as she always would, but it was clear that Pomni still didn’t understand how scarce the water was by then. Rags was spread thin enough by handling the extra stress and enduring the continuous pain of being corrupted by the abstraction, but that didn’t stop Pomni from practically having a mental breakdown at the dinner table.

Jax saw that coming from a mile away. Thank goodness he silently took the open seat next to Pomni, silent in his insistence that the ragdoll should keep her distance for the time being. He’d give anything to destroy the little jester for abusing his doll. Ragatha was acting perfectly normal at the time – her masked smile perfectly set on her face – until it was time for them all to retire to their respective bedrooms.

Jax wished that he would’ve just dragged her after him when he booked it from the abstraction earlier today. Pomni would have been the perfect distraction for them to escape and get Caine.

He stood at Ragatha’s door after dinner.

Jax made a point to ring the doorbell this time. Usually, he’d just pluck out a key and saunter in like he owns the place, but with what happened today, he’d make an exception. Everyone has their limit – and someone has already reached their limit today. They couldn’t risk losing another one. Especially not Raggs. They all really needed her.

When she didn’t open, he tried the bell again. Nothing.

Well, time for the key, then.

He shoved his hand down his front pocket and fished out the doll’s room key. The bunny didn’t waste time opening the door. He wanted to see what state the girl was in, despite dreading the possibility of finding an abstracted amalgamation on the other side.

Silence.

Not even a creak was heard from the hallway. The room was lit up as it usually was, so that was a good sign, at least. Jax couldn’t see an obvious black body of eyes – another win. But where was Ragatha? He did see her walk into her room, so she had to be here.

He walked around, keeping his cool, casual composure fixed, despite no one being around. It was effortless at this point. It became a way for him to focus on what he could control in this crazy digital prison; himself.

He couldn’t, however, control his ability to spot a blasted ragdoll, it would seem. He scanned the room again, until his eyes fell on her ¾ bed. Could she-?

The bunny rolled his eyes at himself as he lowered himself onto his knees – maybe he could convince himself that he was not phased by the situation. Bending down, he peered beneath the bed frame.

Jax sighed in exasperation. Or was it relief? Both?

Ragatha was in the state she was in before retiring to her room. No gliching, no extra eyes.

Just Raggs.

She didn’t look good, though. The doll was curled up beneath her bed and blindly staring ahead of her. It didn’t look like she was breathing – not that they needed to anyway, but it was uncanny to see Rags like this. She was their voice of reason. She was a water spring in this desert.

If she dried up, their desert would be doomed.

Jax silently stood up and walked back to the open door again. No need to make a fuss over this. He took hold of the door handle and shut it from the inside. Key in hand, he locked the door and nodded to himself. Ragatha needed a raincloud… and he’d have to fill that role now. It’s the least he could do after leaving her to fend for herself when they found the abstraction today.

Why didn’t she run with him? Why did think she could fix someone whose mind was broken beyond repair? Why didn’t she just leave the rookie as bait?

Because that just wasn’t her role, was it?

If it weren’t for her nature – her role – none of them would have made it this far. It dawned on Jax, once again, how close they were to losing their beloved doll. How close they were to being stuck with an invader who knew nothing about what it took to survive in this hell hole.

Enough.

Back to the bed, crouched down and silent Jax positioned himself to lay down and simply look over the red head from a relative distance. There was enough space for the doll to crawl out of hiding without having to touch him. The bunny still hadn’t said a word. It’d be stupid to talk, and he didn’t feel like making the effort. He just wanted things back to normal again – well… as normal as it could have been.

Now Kaufmo is gone, a new creature was invading their home, tearing it up from the roots and tipping the delicate scales of the balance they worked very hard on creating. All because of a lunatic ringmaster having the bright idea of creating a fake exit-door. Someone better get that jester on a tight leash to get her to fall in line, like the rest of them were forced to.

He knew he, for one, wouldn’t mind roughing her up a bit. It was his specialty – his role. The parasite. The menace. The instigator.

Evil with an actual target.

The sound of shifting and movement had Jax blink out of his own head. Ragatha was slowly and dumbly making her way out from under her bed. Her eyes were still fogged over and her face still eerily blank, but at least she came out of hiding out of her own will. In a matter of seconds, the doll was out from her hiding place and settled on the floor beside Jax. She was staring him in the eyes now, waiting for the bunny, silently pleading.

Jax hadn’t had his aloof-douchebag persona engaged since he locked Ragatha’s door. She didn’t need a menace now – she needed to be grounded; revitalized. She needed a dark raincloud to fill up the water spring they all needed.

He didn’t look forward to what needed to be done, but he wouldn’t allow anyone else to do it.

He moved to stand up and held out a hand to help her up. He took note of the way her hand was shaking when she took his and gently guided her to the bed. The red head was the first to sit, then moved to lay down on her back and numbly stare at the ceiling. With a deep breath, Jax gathered himself mentally and cautiously crept onto the bed and positioned himself to briefly hover over her, before lowering his full weight onto Ragatha.

He had his head in the crook of her neck, on the left shoulder with his ears folding back to floppily droop to his upper back… with his left hand resting on the opposite shoulder. His body, although slim, enveloped hers and caused her to sink slightly into the mattress. His legs just loosely laid over and aside the ragdoll’s. It was more important to have his weight resting on her torso anyway.

For a long moment, they just motionlessly laid on the bed like this. To an outsider, it would look like they fell asleep atop each other or simply cuddled together very closely.

An outsider wouldn’t see that Jax was focused on the slow process of Ragatha’s body relaxing under his weight and her breathing slowing to a regular rhythm. An outsider wouldn’t have known that this was hardly the first time they’d done this – how long it took Jax to learn that this make-shift deep-pressure therapy was the most effective grounding technique for Ragatha to collect herself again.

They wouldn’t understand that Jax didn’t do this out of wanting to, but rather out of necessity.

Jax didn’t like to be touched. If anything, he was very capable of merely tolerating it. Everyone in the circus knew that he was touch-averse; some even used that as leverage to mess with him if the situation called for it. It was a necessity that he endured to keep his doll sane – to keep anyone of importance here in the circus, sane. Their whole lives revolved around mental strength. It was all just a matter of staying sane.

The laid there for what felt like a lifetime.

Slight shifting beside Jax alerted him that the doll was moving her arms – previously stiffly pinned to her sides. This was good, she felt comfortable enough to move around now!

Her left hand gently snaked up to the bunny’s head and slowly, softly petted his ears in a longitude motion. Her right hand wrapped loosely around his middle-to-lower back – motionless. This was bad, Jax did not like being touched like that!

While he was fine with the rhythmic touches of Ragatha’s left hand, he despised the idle position of the right hand resting on his back. He couldn’t prevent himself from tensing up in discomfort.

Bad touch, bad touch, bad-

This caused the ragdoll to tense up and rip her hands off him as if he burned her.

Oh no you don’t! We are not starting all over again.

He slowly pulls away and propped up unto his elbows, hearing Ragatha’s breathing pick up as she presumably spirals into her own thoughts on how he was going to leave her like this. Jax cast down a disapproving look. He broke his gaze to unceremoniously take her right hand – now clutched close to her chest – and intertwined their fingers, before resting his head on her left shoulder once again. He close eyes as he use his free hand to put her left hand on his head again, waiting for her to resume her petting.

Good touch; this was a good touch. Please understand.

Thankfully, Ragatha relaxed… and continued her previous slow, rhythmic motions. Slowly, Jax felt her relax once again and he indulged into her need for touch by stroking his thumb over hers occasionally.

Soon they fell into a rhythm; Ragatha would pet Jax’s ears 3 times, then it was his turn to stroke his thumb over hers. Then they would repeat the routine. This also helped Jax cope with the touching; the routine. The rhythm.

It felt like hours ticked by as the two just practiced their little unspoken routine. Jax grew used to it after a while, almost forgetting that his new mattress was now a sentient ragdoll and completely tuned into their rhythm of touches.

Pet… pet… pet… thumb. Pet… pet… pet… thumb.

Jax didn’t like touch, but he loved routine.

The doll and the bunny’s time together, once nothing but grounding techniques, grew to become an intimate exchange of touches and caresses – all wrapped in a routine, like a dance. Jax felt warm and fuzzy inside; for once he basked in the moment of enjoying his dolly. He lazily wondered if Ragatha felt the same. He shifted his head to look at her.

The doll looked down to meet his eyes when she felt him move. He could swear that she looked at peace, basking in the bliss of their closeness. For some reason, she looked like an angel. They all saw her as their angel. Had he successfully pinned a heavenly body beneath him?

Her gentle, longing gaze made a kaleidoscope of butterflies erupt from his core.

This wasn’t the first time this feeling invaded his being when they did this – as rare as these moments were. He wasn’t sure when he started experiencing such feelings during these rare encounters, but as months crawled by, he felt drawn to his dolly more and more. Based on how she looked at him, he could only assume that she felt it too.

Something so foreign, yet so familiar.

He didn’t fail to spot the warmth rushing to her cheeks when their eyes met. She looked so ethereal beneath him, especially when her breathing picked up under his firm gaze. Her lips were parted, and her eyes were lidded. This time, it wasn’t fear or overstimulation. It was anticipation. It was desire.

Jax internally flinched at the tingly sensation when he smoothly burrowed his face into Ragatha’s neck. She shivered at the breath he let out against her skin. He could tolerate the touching a little longer, as long as he could see her crumble again. He wanted to see her walls crumble again.

“Jax- ”

Oh… he had to hear her again. More clearly, next time. This was torture, but she made him into her own personal masochist. His skin crawled at the sensation of her skin shivering against him, but he needed more. He could take it. Just a little longer – he just had to stand these sensations a little longer. He looked at her again.

Ragatha was reverting to a helpless puddle. The doll’s arms were gripping at the covers beneath her, successfully eliminating the bother of excessive contact that he despised. Jax didn’t know if she did it with that intension or without thinking, but either way, he was thankful. He really wanted more.

Why couldn’t he just be normal?

He lifted onto his elbows again and – dare one say – lovingly looked at her face. She could only peek back at him, breathing slightly faster than usual. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shaky hand rise from the covers and hover next to his cheek, while her eyes pleaded for his mercy. He hesitated but bit the bullet to comply; leaning into her touch while desperately trying to ignore the odd tingles. Jax convinced himself to kiss her wrist and drowned himself in the pleasure of hearing her softly call his name.

He only heard it because he was listening so closely for it.

Yes.

DING DONG

In a flash, Jax braced himself up into a crouch and slammed his foot down with a mighty THUMP upon hearing Ragatha startle into a fit when the doorbell chimed. His hair on his back stood on end and his claws ripped through his gloves, leaving gouges in the covers beside the doll’s head.

His precious doll was disturbed again!

He heard her soft cry of fear and his blood boiled with a thirst for vengeance. Only he can make her cry out. He’ll skin the soul that dared to-

“Ragatha…? Can we talk?”

That DAMN jester!

“Jax?” a quiet voice trembled in his ear from beneath him. Jax stopped glaring at the door to softly glance down and see what his little doll wanted.

“Don’t…” Raggs sounded like she was begging while being held at gunpoint, whispering despite their rooms being enchanted to not hear anything from the outside when the door is shut.

Jax wouldn’t dare let that thing inside. Raggs was upset enough as it is.

“Look, I know it probably wouldn’t make a difference…” Pomni’s voice came from the other side door again, “…but I’m so sorry for running off… Again… I saw that exit and I had to see if it was real. No one else believed me and I started to think that I was losing my mind. You understand that, right?”

Jax placed both his hands down on the mattress, blocking the doll’s view of the door as if it could block the sound of the voice from reaching the Raggs’s ears, still hovering over her. He knew that his dolly didn’t want to hear anything the harlequin had to say now – he had half the mind to get up and bash the newbie’s head in.

“I hope we can talk about this some time. You are probably tired after such a long, crazy day.” Pomni’s voice died down near the end, “It feels like you’re the only good person here.”

She really is, but she’s too good for you. Selfish leech.

Jax looks down to the girl, still stiff as a board beneath him. Her eye was shiny with the swell of tears. He melted at the sight – anger simmering down. She was just a sweet little rag dolly, she didn’t deserve any of this, but oh, he was so happy to see Ragatha finally emote something again. She was OK again. Their water source was filled once again, now threatening to spill over. He’d happily welcome the flood.

He needed her.

The sound of fading footsteps causes Jax to rip his eyes to the direction of the door. His hearing was better than the dolls, probably thanks to being a rabbit.

Good riddance.

Ragatha seemed to relax at the sight of Jax deflating his stance, reading that Pomni probably left her door. She hesitantly reached up to cup Jax’s cheek. Jax followed her hand’s motion and scoffed, cringing at the invasion. He’s had enough touching for a week. It sucked to leave his doll so soon after being distressed again, but he couldn’t bring himself stand any more of this. He quickly got up and smoothed out his clothes, but not without missing the flash of hurt in the doll’s eyes. He felt bad, but he had to be strong with the new girl around, so straining himself now would only make matters worse and mess up the whole system.

Still, seemingly bored, Jax stood in his spot while rocking on his heels and looking off to the side, only sparing her a glance. Raggs sat up by then. She looked a little worse for wear, but it’s an improvement from hiding under her bed. She rested her elbows on her knees with her chin in her hands. The hurt in her eyes was long gone, but she looked tired. Poor thing, Jax shared the sentiment.

He felt her eye bore into the side of his face and the bunny couldn’t stop himself before he rolled his eyes and looked to her again. He could’ve choked on air when he saw her face, but the years of steeling his demeanor left no trace of his inner turmoil.

Raggs sported that longing look in her eyes again.

They were so close this time – closer than they’ve ever been before. Each time they spent together on nights like this, although few and far between, they grew closer… and hungrier. Neither understood what it was, but they never had the chance to just collapse into it, tonight being the closest to that.

But there was always something, right?

Jax allowed gaze to soften. His doll offered a small smile that almost ripped his heart out if his chest. It was drenched with melancholy of something she knew they could never have.

Because their roles in their little ecosystem didn’t allow for it to ever be theirs. It would never work.

This was survival.

The rabbit steeled his demeanor once again, but this time, his doll’s face didn’t fall.

Good, as it should be.

Jax walked to the door and fished out the key from his front pocket. He didn’t bother looking back. If he did, he wouldn’t have the will to leave anymore. When he opened the door, though, he couldn’t help but mumble out teasingly.

“See yah later, Doll~!”

He wished that he could shout his affections for her out into the void instead.

“I’m not your doll.” Ragatha responded, voice still wobbly and tired, but perky regardless. She knew just how to indulge him.

Yes, she is… she always will be.

Fanart: Evil with a target

Oasis: TADC AU list

Masterlist

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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months

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hi ^^ If requests are still open, can I req jax x reader headcanons where reader seems like the most chill, mentally stable, and normal person as well as a bit oblivious out of the whole group but when jax tries pranking them by scaring them w creepy crawlies and insects or other things normally considered scary, reader becomes really happy and endeared by it instead? And starts trying to like befriend him because of it.

And then its revealed reader has the most questionable interests of which they have the most unusually large amount of detailed knowledge on, like say poison, reptiles, the horrific horrors at the bottom of the ocean (think subnautica) And whenever these interests are brought up (which is rare bcs if what they are) they go full infodump mode and have 100% accidentally scared someone with it. They have definitely scared Ragatha half to death at least once after hearing the word “centepede” and going on a rant abt giant centipedes oblivious to her fear.

qeue Jax asking the reader abt one of said interests for a prank and reader gives him way to much info on it, not because they want to help him prank someone, but because they think hes just genuinely interested in their interest and have no idea he wants to use it to prank someone.

sorry if this is too long ^^

Jax x reader w/ odd interests!

dont apologize for it being too long! this just means i have a little more to work with ! probably gonna do this and one more request then go stretch my legs !!

when he first saw you fall victim to his classic fake spider prank, he was surprised to see that you were absolutely thrilled to find the critter; real or not

i mean sure, maybe you just weren't afraid of bugs like a certain red head, but you were excited to find it; scooping it up into your hands without hesitation... i mean he wasnt exactly judging you, but he sure as hell was confused. and now stumped, now that he knows the fake bug prank wont phase you

on top of that he now has a new friend following him around

i think it would definitely take him a second to warm up to you, his pride is a little hurt that his little stunt failed, but before long you guys are on speaking terms

your interest in poison doesnt really come up until someone brings up the topic, prompting you to go on a tangent about all the different kinds, the effects, the sources, how to counter it if possible, things like that

how funny would it be if jax was actually scared of reptiles; specifically snakes or even lizards, and he finds you trying to catch a gecko outside in the grounds

you excitedly try to hand it off to him and begin listing off some facts about the real world counterpart, only to stop when you notice his discomfort

like imagine trying to help him get over this random fear of his, and eventually managing to ease him into holding the little thing

hes fine with centipedes but he draws the line at noodle boys

perhaps the extra time with you and listening to you rattle off about your interests sparks some interest in you? of course if you want this to remain platonic you can ignore this part!

this of course leads to him trying to spend more time with you

to be more specific, to try to rope you into his antics

so he tries to ask you about something, say, bugs... you, of course not knowing what his plans are, go off about a bunch of bugs; insects, spiders, hell you even add in some scorpions

he stops you midway when you segway over to bug-parasites, though

while some of it isnt really his thing, hes at least not a big enough asshole to ignore the look in your eyes you get when you finally get to talk about your interests and not be judged

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #jax x you #jax x reader #jax imagine

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holdmeiamscared · 2 years

Text

OMNIPOTENT— homelander x reader #2

this is part two to my first bullshit rambling that you can find here: homelander x reader

the start of this picks up like a month after where the first one left off. this one is also ~3k words so like grab a snack 😬

⚠️: pre-season one, CANNON DIVERGENCE, threats of bodily harm, reader is more fem! presenting in this one but only in the beginning and during the sex part, reader is fuckin’ unhinged, reader is the guardian of their nephew (who is named in the fic), reader’s whole immediate family (minus their nephew) is deceased, homelander is his own warning, intercourse, oral (homelander eats pussy don’t argue with me)— fem bodied reader, praise, homelander’s mommy kink is in full swing now (soft dom! reader), homelander is still literally obsessed, reader is a jealous bitch, homelander and reader are toxic together, reader is in a fist fight with their feelings for homelander (reader loses), Madelyn Stillwell is manipulative, and also prolly (definitely) fucked homelander.

when you were still young, toeing on the line of being a woman, but still not old enough people treated you like one, your grandmother explained to you why she gained the nerve to finally leave your grandfather.

you were innocent then, bright eyed and unaware of how the real world hurt. you were unaware of how it would break you— how it would turn you into someone you barely recognize.

she had told you then, as a warning of some sort, “a golden cage, is still just a cage.” she looked sick to her stomach when she’d said it. the look in her eyes, the one you hadn’t understood all those years ago, it haunted you now— every night.

she’d died before she could see the woman you had become— before she could see the rest of your family die off slowly. some fucked up part of you was glad for that, your grandmother was a saint— she wouldn’t have deserved that pain.

but part of you was also jealous of her— she was spared the heartbreak of it all. she didn’t have to witness death after death after death, and she didn’t have to witness you lose your freedom.

but now, as an adult in a very tricky situation, you understood what she meant about golden cages.

the homelander hadn’t locked you up though, at least, not yet.

he let you keep living the way you had before— let you keep your freedom, but maybe that was somehow worse.

the fear of doing something to upset him, doing something to make him irrational, was always present. like you were walking on a microscopic trip wire— one that was attached to the biggest bomb known to man.

but still, he was so good to you, good to Jaxon. he was everything you could have imagined your spouse to be when you were a child, if you ignored the homicidal tendencies, of course.

despite all of his flaws, he wanted you; he loved you and Jaxon— he took care of the both of you. John was part of your family now, he was part of you, he was part of Jax.

he was ingrained in both of your lives— like a parasite.

sure, the homelander was a full-fledged psychopath, but he was yours.

maybe a golden cage wasn’t so bad when it came hand in hand with love— with family.

————

you were sure of one thing, and one thing alone— you didn’t like Madelyn Stillwell, not one fucking bit.

you hadn’t known her well enough before John to make such a brave statement, you still didn’t if you were honest, and despite your fear of sounding envious— you couldn’t help but to think of her as a snake in the fucking grass. venomous— just fucking dangerous.

somehow, she’d dug her manicured nails right into the homelander’s rib cage— and you wanted them out.

today was one of the scariest days of your life, to date. homelander had corralled you into a corner and declared that you two were now official. he didn’t even ask you— he told you, and you had hastily agreed in fear of upsetting him.

homelander kissed you breathless after you hesitantly agreed, the heat of his cock dragging along the length of your thigh, likely a desperate tease—after all, you hadn't fucked him since the first time, almost a month ago.

if the way he jerked when your hands groped at his biceps told you anything, it was that he was losing every lingering shred of his patience. he wanted you again and it made you dizzy— it made you delirious. you were drunk off the very thought of him pleading for you like he had before.

John pulled back as quickly as he started, hips grinding into you one last time, almost involuntarily. he heaved a sigh of your name— all rumpled and looking thoroughly kissed. you melted at the sight, humming happily up at him.

once the heat had vanished from under your skin, the first thing you wanted to do was tell Jaxon— he would be fucking ecstatic that you were finally in a proper relationship with the homelander.

however, the first thing John wanted to do was tell everyone. he wanted the whole fucking world to know who you were, who you loved— who you were loved by.

he was practically dragging you to her office before you knew it, all long limbs and pushy words about how he loved you, about how he wanted to show you off to the world— how it was only fair because you’re his now.

even as the elevator dinged, signaling your arrival to the correct floor— he was still speaking about how the two of you looked so fucking good together and how his fans deserved to see you, on his arm—where you belonged.

the ranting had continued right into her office, and Madelyn had forced a smile in your direction after homelander finished speaking.

she stood quickly, pausing to smooth the wrinkles in her pretty little dress, and once she had collected herself, she sternly told John— absolutely not. the tone she used left no room for question, she wouldn’t allow this— you and the homelander could never be together in public.

she said it with a sweet, motherly smile— and it made you sick. you can still recall the exact look in John’s eyes when she told him he could never go public with you, of all people.

she had said your name incorrectly, motioning to you with a vague indifference, and it made your blood run cold. that icy feeling in your veins didn't last long, because John corrected her on your name sharply.

you almost preened for him—almost.

she had nodded along, like she actually cared, before starting on a long-winded rant about how this was an awful idea.

she said you would ruin his image, that just being seen with you would drop him in the polls. she said he would lose his adoring fans, that they would think he was lesser than he was— because he fell in love with a nobody.

you didn’t like how sharp her words were— you didn't like how much they bothered you.

you didn’t like that she was looking down her nose at you— like you were insignificant.

you didn't like her.

that mean snear, the same one you’d used on homelander, the same one you had mastered when your grandmother died, masked the hurt on your face— this bitch didn’t even know you. how fucking dare she.

you were expecting John to explode into a rage, after all, if the homelander was anything, it was unreasonable— but he didn’t.

you had braced yourself for war, already mapping a way to escape, looking for a place to hide— but he didn’t do anything.

that almost hurt more than being talked to like you were lesser.

the way he so easily gave up on his plan to announce you as the love of his life— it made something churn in your stomach, something bitter.

and despite the way her words stung, the way it hurt that homelander didn’t fight for it, for you— you were happy with the decision to keep your relationship under wraps.

it was better this way— for the sake of Jaxon’s privacy. you’d explained that to homelander later— you wanted Jaxon to be normal. you didn’t want him to worry about people wanting to be his friend for what he had, for who he was.

“can you imagine how children would react if homelander’s self-declared nephew was in their class?” a smug grin pulls at his pretty lips, “he’d be the coolest kid in that whole fucking shitty school.” you fought the urge to roll your eyes, “they’d use him, John. he wouldn’t have any real friends.”

but that look in homelander’s eyes, it haunted you, it haunted you just like that look your grandmother gave you all those years ago.

that very night, his eyes take the place of your grandmother's.

the emotion in his eyes when he looked at her wares at you until you’re angry enough it fucking aches.

he looked so complicit, and all you can think about is that he looked at you like that once— when he was under you.

you didn't let John know that you saw it, but it eats at you.

it tears into you, burrowing fury into your skin all night long— it worms its way into your chest until you feel like you aren’t good enough.

you hate that feeling.

you decide that the homelander has a thing for Madelyn Stillwell.

and you don’t fucking like that.

————

the next day comes with more feelings you thought you would never experience for homelander.

when you notice Madelyn heading your way, you can't help the way your grip tightens against homelander's arm.

she looks happy, at least that’s how she appears in your mind, as she greets him with a smile, “thank you for having dinner with me last night, homelander.”

if homelander notices the way you stiffen next to him— he doesn’t show it. rage pools in your stomach, burning you up from the inside out— so hot it hurts. that bastard.

John had shown up late to your so called ‘family dinner’ last night. he’d made idle conversation with Jaxon about school, picking at his plate until you worried you had made him something he didn’t like.

now this, this made fucking sense.

he’d already eaten.

your blood pressure is on the rise, and this time— you know he knows. his free hand rubs at the one you have gripping at his forearm. it's an attempt to calm you, to quell your worries.

it doesn’t work.

all you feel is acid-soaked hostility and white-hot hatefulness rising from a pit you swore you’d locked up long ago.

you shake off the homelander’s grip, muttering about how you should be going back to work, and you hurry your way through the halls until you’re far enough away you can’t taste the anger anymore.

when you recline against a wall, steading your breathing, you try to remind yourself that you’re trapped with him— that he won’t let you go. you remind yourself that your love for him is fake— that you are nothing but a little bird, locked in your pretty golden cage.

but those thoughts, as true as they are, they don’t help.

later that day, despite your internal struggle, the petty part of you— the part that wants revenge, wins.

you pick Jaxon up from school, settling him in the back of your car with nothing but smiles and light laughter. then, when he asks you what you are planning for dinner, you answer him easily, one of your saccharine smiles pulling at your lips until your cheeks hurt, "i thought we would go out somewhere tonight. wherever you want, baby."

Jaxon asks if Uncle John will be there, and you have to fight off your smug grin. no, he won't. he can't be seen in public with you.

you and Jaxon are both nobodies, after all.

if the homelander wants to play— you can fucking play.

————

you only realize how stupid you are when you pulled into the drive of your ratty old house, hours after you were supposed to have dinner together.

you notice quickly that the kitchen light is on, and you can only imagine how much trouble you've gotten yourself into.

you let Jax go in first, let him greet homelander happily.

Jaxon is all smiles and hugs for his dear Uncle fucking John and despite yourself, when you catch sight of him, your anger dissipates. you greet him the same way you always do, with a sweet kiss and a murmured, 'hi, sweetheart.'

he's tense tonight— pulling you into a solid hug, his hands gripping at you too tightly for you to be comfortable.

it's a fucking threat, you know it is, but you don't waver—continuing to smile felicitously up at him.

it's only after Jaxon goes upstairs to bathe that John confronts you, and he's all malice hidden behind a soft smile, "where'd you go tonight, honey?"

your heart skips a beat, but not from fear, no— it's from excitement.

you peer up at him, every bit sweet, your lashes fluttering in the way you know makes you look faultless, "we went to Jaxon's favorite restaurant. sorry, sweetie— i figured you might have eaten somewhere else."

if the look in his eyes tells you anything, it's that he caught on to your jab, and he doesn't like the tone of your voice.

in response, you coo up at him, trying to dissipate the anger you see in his eyes with your cloying words, “i love you, John.”

he can't bring himself to stay mad at you— not when you say his name like that.

————

now, it's the next day and even after staying up half the night, telling yourself that Madelyn Stillwell wouldn't bother you anymore— you can't help the vexation you feel.

you had agreed to lunch with John— not with her.

she looks pleased to be sat next to him, successfully giving you no other choice but to settle in the seat across from homelander.

you're determined to cut this as short as possible, even if you have to fake an illness. which now, watching as she wraps her hand around his bicep— might not be so fake.

you're tense, pulled taught like a bow— ready to fucking snap.

you don't want to seem rude, but honestly, you’re on the verge of spooning out your own eyes.

in the heat of your jealousy, you don't hide your distaste— you move to leave, a tight smile marring your normally charming face.

a second passes when the homelander realizes you’re planning on leaving— and you think that he might actually let you go. you’re wrong, and his voice stops you dead on your feet, animosity thick in every word, every syllable, "honey—where are you going?"

you turn, voice thick with allure, you’re all doe-eyes and fake sugary innocence— you’re just fucking tempting him, " 'm just going to the bathroom, baby."

when you walk away, your hips sway in the way you know will keep his attention, the way you know will remind him of how they looked dropping in a steady rhythm against his.

after you turn the corner, the smugness, the tickle of revenge— it returns.

you don't come back to finish lunch with them.

————

later in the day, it's only fitting that he catches up to you when you're really in the bathroom.

probably some fucked up karma for telling him that was where you were going when you'd escaped all those hours ago at lunchtime.

the homelander is upset with you.

he's seething, lips curled up into a snarl, voice booming in the open space, and as much as you hate yourself for it, it fucking turns you on.

"just going to the fucking bathroom, huh?"

you blink owlishly up at him, feeling sticky on the inside when his leather clad hand rumples up his hair, "i told you where i was going— i didn't say i was coming back."

that's all it takes for his hands to slam against the tiles of the sink, the ceramic creaking under the pressure, "do you think you're fucking funny? i let you get away with dinner for Jaxon— but this? this?"

the homelander anticipates you to answer with your own anger.

he's come to expect that of you. you don't outwardly fear him and you never back down from an argument.

you're a goddamn luntic— and he fucking loves that about you.

but you don't yell.

you bite back your anger, and instead of raising your voice, you answer in a soft, honeyed one— one dripping saccharine syrup, "do you love me, sweet boy?"

it shoots heat down the homelander’s spine, makes his thoughts slow— you’re a fucking tease. he can hear your footsteps bringing you closer when he doesn’t respond. when you touch him, no hesitance in your movement, he sinks in to the feeling.

your hands brush against the eagles on his broad shoulders, trailing a path straight to his chest, and you linger there, kneading at the muscle— he short fucking circuits.

you shift yourself until you’re caged between his body and the sink, mouth parting in another question, “huh, baby? you love mommy?”

it’s a calculated risk— but a still a risk.

it fucking works.

the homelander’s bottom lip quivers, cerulean eyes darkening at the very sound of the word.

his quivering hands move from the tile of the bathroom sink to squeeze at the fat of your hips, “of course i love you.”

your gaze turns predatory and you push yourself up to sit on the sink, to level with him. your mouth hovers close to his, close enough you can feel his balmy breaths against your cupid’s bow— close enough you can feel the stutter in his breathing, but not close enough to kiss him the way he wants.

you stop to thank whatever fucker sitting up in the sky that you wore a skirt today.

it rides up slowly as you shift— the doughy fat of your thigh rippling invitingly with each movement. the motion catches his eye, draws his attention away from your mouth, and you can hear the hitch of breath in his throat— the desperate little noise that follows, “did you miss mommy’s pussy, John?”

he's nodding in agreement, hazy-eyed and oh so soft. you almost feel bad for him— almost.

you lean close, mouthing at the lobe of his ear, until his hands grope at the softness of your thighs, "you wanna taste it, honey?"

another nod is all you receive in response, but that isn't enough for you— not this time.

"c'mon sweetheart, mommy wants to hear you use your words," your hands trail from their perch on his chest to grope at the thick line of his cock, pressing out so temptingly from his groin of his suit, lining the curve of his hip, "tell me, sweet boy."

the noise he makes is so fucking depraved, and you feel it again— that omnipotent feeling in your chest.

it's delicious. he's delicious.

you're going to rip those manicured fingers out of his ribs— and you’re going to replace them with your fucking own.

"please— wanna taste it."

you don't deny him— you can't. you're just as desperate, thoughts sluggish and disgruntled as you spread yourself open.

your shaky hands pull at your underwear, and John, he's watching— watching as the strands of your slick break from the movement, watching as the translucent fibrils stick your soft skin.

he's looking at you like you're a goddamn masterpiece— and you fucking are.

you almost lose the control you have over him when his knees hit the floor, mouth opening to lap at the confection of you like you're the first thing he's tasted all day.

you attempt to gather yourself, but the sloppy drag of his tongue is so distracting, "gentle, John— mommy needs you to be gentle."

he does as you ask almost instantly, suckling at the most tender parts of you with the considerateness you had almost forgotten he has.

not long after that, you let him press your back to the mirror, you let him tug you to the edge of the sink, you let him hook your thighs around his hips— and you let him fuck you in the bathroom right down the hall from Madelyn Stillwell's office.

but it isn't as rushed as the first time, this time it's tender— soft and with each press of his hips into yours, with the homelander’s cock sinking impossibly deeper with each stroke, you forget each and every one of the worries that had been plaguing your thoughts for days.

in fact, you forget the reason you were so upset in the first place.

when his leather garbed hand tangles in your hair to pull you impossibly closer, to touch every part of you to him— to fuck you so thoroughly that the only thing you can think of is him, the homelander— your sweet boy, you can’t help the way your hips begin to roll down into his with a choked noise in your chest— you sound fucking depraved too.

the homelander mouths at where your pulse races in your throat, muffling the whimpers of your name falling from his lips— and you can't help but to think that this, this is bliss.

————

and now, as you help John fix his hair, that feeling of dread returns like a slow icy drip in your veins.

your jealousy has been mended— your thoughts are no longer irrational.

and your need for verification, the pettiness that let you to this situation, that got you stuck even deeper in his maw, it’s fucking gone.

but the way he looks at you—the crazed love in his eyes— the obsession, it's still there, and it terrifies you.

so when he bares down on you, mouth still carrying the tang of your arousal, the only thing you can hear is your grandmother's voice ringing through the emptiness of the bathroom.

you're looking up at John, but all you see is her, her with that evocative look in her eyes.

"i’ve been thinking, sweetheart,” bile rises in your throat, “you and Jaxon should move out of that shitty old house before it fucking falls in on you.”

you smile up at him, nervous about what he’s planning, “we don’t have anywhere else to go, John.”

the homelander tugs you closer, eyes dark with a silent threat, a threat that’s on standby for if you dare oppose him, “ah— but you do, honey. you can just come live with me.”

a golden cage, is still just a cage.

(PART THREE)

#homelander x reader #the boys homelander x reader #the boys #homelander #the homelander #the homelander x reader #homelander smut

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bloodycassian · 23 days

Text

Ice Planet Freaks - Ice Planet Barbarians fic.

NSFW, MDNI -

Reader x OC Sa-Kuhi (alien man)

The floor is freezing, your head spinning with confusion and wooziness. There’s a foul smell in the air but your senses are returning to you slowly. Your mind as fogged as it is though, knows that something is wrong. And not just because there’s several enormous, blue-gray men standing across from you.

“He’s the leader, he’s the one insisting on us taking this parasite.” One of the girls growls. You can’t bother to remember any of their names, not when the reality of aliens had just been dropped on you. Worse, the fact that you’d been abducted by a completely different race of aliens than the ones who were now trying to help you.

You were still hoping to wake up from this nightmare.

The beast fell with a massive, not-earth shaking rumble and the others bring you with them, surrounding the thing while the alien leader and his woman go about pulling parts out of the beast.

You feel your face pale when the return from the depths of the thing with a long, writhing rope-like thing. It would resemble a snake, if it weren’t for it’s lack of face and the thinness of it.

Words are exchanged, and the woman - Georgie, you remember just as the leader slices into her neck - is visibly uneasy, but when she looks to the leader, she seems put at ease.

The worm-thing slides into her neck, burrowing down and in until she collapses, the big leader catching her before she can fall.

Your legs quiver, vision going hazy for a moment, your mouth going dry and stomach churning - then you’re gone.

“Drink this.” A voice murmurs, but you can’t see who it is. It’s one of the women from the group, you can tell that much from her soft tone and the fact you can understand her.

Something presses to your lips, warm and utterly delicious. You drink the entirety of it in only a few short moments.

“More-” You pant, suddenly ravenous. Your head is much clearer than it was when you were freezing outside before, like a fog has been lifted and you’ve finally been granted access to your own mind again.

Something is said in a guttural, uneven accent and for a moment you almost think you can make out the words of it.

“She can’t-” the woman’s voice protests.

“Make her.” The voice- undoubtedly male and annoyed states.

Your eyes crack open, and there’s only the dim glow of torchlight keeping the woman’s face lit. She’s one of the others, the ones who’d broken you out of the tube you’d been stored in, but she’s different somehow.

“Welcome to your new home.” She says, with an uneasy, apologetic smile.

Your eyes flash over the room, and land on the giant blue man leaning on the wall opposite you.

Your mind spins, the whole room going with it, and you have to lean back down on the warm bed to regain your ability to think.

It hadn’t been a dream. It was real - is real and you’re currently on a world that isn’t earth but also inhabited by aliens…

You want to scream but all if it seems just like your kind of luck.

“Can I at least know if there’s alcohol here?”

The girl laughs, and the man stiffens, pushing away from the wall.

“She’s asking about ahh… Kolcharr-” She makes a motion with her hands like drinking.

“If that’s what she wants I will gladly provide-”

“Who are you, anyway?” You spit the words like an accusation. He’s trying to be nice but something about his presence in your seemingly private quarters annoys you.

“Your Resonance, human.”

“Tarvir, give us a few moments for me to explain.” The woman requests, holding out a hand to him as he approaches.

He takes a long, slow look at you in the bed before nodding, and walking out the hide-door.

She’s human. I’ve waited a century for my mate to be a human woman with no horns or tail or-

No, I cannot be ungrateful when there’s other males who would kill for an opportunity to have a mate. Even if she is angry and withdrawn and unnerving.

“Tarvir!” Vektal calls, motioning me over to the wide landing where we share feasts when a hunter returns with a large prize.

I fear what he may say to me, as strange as it is. On top of it, leaving my Resonance behind feels worse than any physical pain I’ve had in a long time. I touch the scarred flesh at my ribs from my encounter with the snowcats.

Perhaps she is more dangerous than a snowcat, and my body is telling me to avoid her. Yet still, my resonance hums deep inside me.

“The humans have rules. You must give her time to gain her strength back before-” Vektal’s voice is low, his eyes scanning the small crowd that is our tribe below. They’ve taken to showing the humans our cave, pride shining in every word.

“Her Kuhi resonates as well. She is mine, Vektal…” The words sound strange coming out, choked and tearful when I should be happy. Something deep inside me wells with despair and a fear that I do not understand though.

Vektal puts a muscled hand on my shoulder and squeezes, a reassuring gesture. My tail can’t help but rise with renewed hope in his confidence. “The Humans are weak,I know your fears. But with the Kuhi now a part of them, they will be alright. You will live a long, happy life with your mate, Tarvir.” He says, and i can see the knowledge of the words in his face. His mate, his Georgie has changed him, and I can only hope my own mate greets me with such enthusiasm as Georgie did for him.

His words feel reassuring, and I cannot explain the leaping in my chest when his eyes go over my shoulder. It’s fear and excitement together, a strange mix of emotion I’ve never felt aside from when my mate is near.

And of course, when I turn around she is squinting with her strange flat face into the cave, down at the glowing pools and my people and hers below. I watch her and watch, my chest thrumming with anticipation of what her reaction will be.

Her eyes dart about, from the open roof of the cave that gives us light from our sky, to the carved walls and hide doors. Her eyes are strange, filled with white still even after accepting the Kuhi, but I can learn to love them. I can learn to love all of her, should she let me. Vektal is right, they need to be given the choice, but if her Kuhi does respond.. How is that anything but acceptance?

My chest thrumming, I begin walking towards my mate and the other human female. Her head snaps in my direction, as wild and untamed as a snowcat as she eyes me.

Then, she pushes off the half-wall overlooking my people below, and vomits on the floor.

I rush to her, already calling for our healer. Has she eaten something poisonous? Surely the Kuhi had healed her of any of her human sicknesses by now. It made no sense, she should be as strong and capable as any of us with the Kuhi in her.

“Tarvir?” She pants when I’m lifting her from the ground. She is light as a Kit in my arms, and her soft skin makes my cock harden. I put away the impulsive thought, she is cleaelry sick and needs tending to.

“I am here my Resonance.” I reassure her, hope filling my chest. She’s able to speak, that is good. If only she would stop being so confused about things. I stop my ungrateful thinking. Vektal had said they are unknowledgeable and as helpless as even the youngest Kits, I must keep that in mind when caring for my mate.

It will be a challenge, especially for one as impatient as I can be. I will learn, and make myself a better mate for her, though.

His skin is supple, the corded muscle beneath the silken skin a delectable contrast to what one would expect. A rumbling in your ears nearly drowns out his cooing words as he chatters to you. He’s huge, and carries you like a child’s stuffed animal, but with utmost care.

He’s tall and built like a house, not lithe like Vektal, a bit thicker in the chest and his face was less angular. He was what you’d think a lumberjack version of these guys probably was, a huntsman of sorts.

Great, you’d scored the burly version of their people. You couldn’t have gotten the supermodel one, like Georgie had?

“This is real.” You’d been repeating it, over and over again since Tarvir had guided you inside the room, one you now recognized was likely his. You were his mate, after all. That’s what one of the girls had told you, and though you wanted to deny it, there was no other reason you could think of to explain the humming in your chest.

“It’s to make the best offspring, I’d guess.” She supplied with an uneasy smile.

So, you were expected to make an alien-baby with the guy who’d brought you here, who’d insisted upon being your mate… But you couldn’t exactly blame him. You doubted he had much of a say in the matter either. And looking at him, you were glad that he was at least in one piece, unlike the one that had stolen Liz away.

And Tarvir hadn’t stolen you away, that was also a good point to be made towards his character.

Names and information were slowly coming back to you now, like your dream-state had still absorbed all the information around you while you were in the tube.

“So what do you want from me?” You ask the blue man, crossing your arms over your chest. Your head is still dizzy but at least while sitting you can catch your breath somewhat.

His large brow scrunches together, his head cocking to one side like a dog. It’s charming on him, and it makes the corner of your lip curl in an almost smile.

“Want?” He repeats, leaning in towards you. He’s close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from him, and the furs suddenly feel much to warm on you, but it’s a comfort you’d been lacking for the time you’d been in the ship. You clutch them tighter around yourself.

You try again, the language barrier clearly at play in this conversation. “Why.. why me?” The words are barely a whisper when you say them, and you can feel your cheeks heat with the way the question sounded so juvenile.

His hands frame your face, forcing you to look into his magnificently blue eyes. Your heart thunders, the blood rushing in your ears almost too loud for you to hear him. Only, it’s not just blood, its the Cootie that’s also humming now. The throbbing of it reaching from your chest to your groin in a drumbeat of horniness.

His breath is sweet as he speaks, entrancing you further. “I want you. Only you. I want whatever you will allow me to have, whatever your own wants are will become mine, and we will live happily together. Whatever it is I want, it is only because you wish for it as well.”

Your heart soars, the rumbling in your chest spiking. Your breath is shallow and uneven as you fight the urge to grab on to his horns and pull him in for a demanding kiss. It’s just the cootie, that’s all that’s making you feel this way.

But his words… You groan and lean back in the bed, freezing in place when he slides in beside you. It’s not like you can kick him out after he’d just said something sweeter than any human had ever said.

“My Resonance, whatever your wants are will be mine, I promise. So if you wish to lay here, I will do the same. Until you ask me to leave, I will always be here.” He places a hand on your chest, and it’s a weight you can’t describe as anything but needed.

His presence alone is already so comforting, is it because of this thing inside you now or because you truly are already falling for him? How couldn’t a girl, when their man spoke like a freaking shakespeare play?

“This is real.” You breathe, and look over to him.

He’s staring at you, eyes full of wonder and admiration. You turn on your side to face him, but his hand on your chest doesn’t move from it’s spot, as if waiting for you to do something with it. He’s waiting for your permission, you realize.

You take his hand and bring it to your cheek, then kiss the soft skinned blue man for the first time. In his cave. On a different planet. After you’ve been freshly given a parasite.

Yup, totally real and not a dream.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

My human’s skin is soft, and so very different from my own. It’s not a bad thing, but strangely intoxicating as I breathe in her scent and her lips press against my own. This is a strange sensation, but I’ve seen Vektal and Georgie do this, and know that it must be some kind of acceptance of our bond together.

My heart soars. She’s accepted me, at least on this physical level. If she is willing to press her lips to my own, it may be similar to humans as mating is to us. Will I need to show her what mating truly means to us? Surely the lip-pressing doesn’t create human kits on their world, does it?

I am silently cursing Vektal for not giving us more information when my human rolls on top of me, straddling my waist. My cock is achingly hard and I feel shame for it, she may not be ready for such kinds of mating ritual-

She grinds her hips down onto me and I suck in a breath, my eyes going wide in surprise at the heat I can feel from her with even two layers between us. I growl and bear my teeth, my fingers digging in to her soft hips as she sways atop me. My Kuhi is humming violently, filling my space with the sounds of our shared pleasure, fueling my drive as I arch into her.

She wouldn’t be doing this if she did not accept our bond. I sit up and take her small face in my hand, bringing our lips together again. This is a strange talent that I must learn, and what a better time than now? It sends shocks of pleasure through my body at her taste, the way she touches me back is delicious and more precious than the twin-suns.

“Need your cock-” She pants against my skin. She’s already left love-bites on my shoulder and I am ecstatic at this. Many of the mated pairs in the tribe share love-bite ink marks to signify their love for each other. I hope my human will want the same for us.

I’m off the bed the instant she rolls off of me, stripping off her own clothes. Mine are much faster to remove, so I take the pleasure in removing her tunic ties as she undoes the laces at her borrowed trousers. They look ridiculous on her, tied in different places and cuffed at the bottoms to stay up, but they are mine and I am proud to share any part of myself with her.

She moves to take my cock in her hand and as much as I’d love to feel her soft grip upon me, I catch her wrist in my hand and move her to lie back on my bed. I pull her hips forward, off the edge and wrap her legs around my shoulders. I’ve never had a lover of my own people, but I’ve heard enough.

I lap at her slowly, and her taste is like seeing new colors, scenting new spices. I groan, my kuhi responding with desperation as I gorge myself on her wetness. My cock is rock solid and dripping with lubricant, but as much as I want to bury myself inside her, I resist. I’ve heard enough stories from the mated males about this that I know they like it slow at first, a building thing.

But my human seems to not want this. She grips my horns and pulls me close, like she wants me elsewhere, and I worry for a moment that I’m hurting her. I relent my lapping at her entrance, and look up at her. Her maine is tangled and I make a note to help her wash it later, but the delicious flush of her cheeks has me dripping to the floor of the cave.

She pulls me, and I place my lips every inch of the way up her body, but she stops me, moaning in a particular spot. She pushes me back down, and I cock my head to the side. Does she want me or not?

She removes a hand from one of my horns and reaches for her sex. I nearly protest her touching herself when I am right here, but she rubs a small circle over the very top of her opening, and I see it then. Ahh- This is what Vektal had mentioned, the nipple.

I nudge her fingers out of the way and lap at it slowly. It is a strange bud, less similar to how I imagined nipples and feeling much more like sucking the meat from the river-creatures that live in the streams in the summer time. I dare not bite my Resonance, though. I know this is working for my mate, because she writhes below me, her hips arching off my bed and her cries growing louder as I increase the speed of my tongue.

Her hands are gripping my horns, holding me in place with her desperate pleading. I do not relent my tongue upon her, even when she’s panting “Please, please–” because she hasn’t pushed me away. I do not know if this part is the human custom, but she isn’t pushing away, so I continue.

Her slickness is better than any catch, even the rarest. She’s warm and balanced and I can’t imagine how I’ve lived before having this. She’s saying something about moving or going somewhere when her thighs suddenly crash against my head, deafening me. I keep my mouth open as she rocks and shudders upon my tongue. I use a hand to ease the aching in my cock, relieving some of the pressure she’s caused me to build.

I cannot tell if she’s like the other humans, or if this mating is strange for them. After her thighs ease from my head I go to lick her more, but she pushes me away with a strange, small foot. She waves me toward her, wrapping her legs around my waist and pulling me down atop her.

Her hand goes to grip my cock once I am holding myself above her, and I cannot deny my own need for any longer.

The moment her small hand wraps around me, my mind goes blank aside from the pleasure of it.

He’s huge. Okay, he’s massive, thick and veiny and with the built in ridges it has you seeing stars before he’s even entered you.

But he’d just made you come so hard that you need more, and your clit is much too overstimulated. You guide the crown of him to your entrance, and he sucks in a sharp breath. Yeah, you doubt he’ll last long, which is a good thing considering his size. He’s thick and muscled and holy shit, the ridges feel amazing.

The first inch of him is a stretch already, and he pulls out to spread your wetness and his own along his shaft. His re entry is smoother, drawing moans from both of you. He’s shuddering within the first few minutes, and with those kinds of muscles you know its not because he’s getting tired.

You adjust your hips, angling upwards more and your mind goes blank. He’s brushing your g-spot already, and he’s only making shallow thrusts. Your legs squeeze him, pulling him in harder and your eyes roll back. God, he’s perfect for you- your nails bite into his soft skin and you think he likes it, because he leans down and places a bite mark on your shoulder, the elongated canine teeth leaving gentle pock marks where they intended your skin. He looks there proudly, and slams into you. The slapping sound of his thighs meeting yours echoes through his home, and your moans join it.

You’re wet, dribbling wet and it’s about halfway through fucking that you notice his hands aren’t what keeps brushing over your clit, but a second, smaller and softer dick that has been nudging you the whole time. Your legs quiver at the idea of it alone, all the things that it could do-

He stiffens when your insides clench around him, his thrusting faltering for a moment. Then, he’s gripping your hips and lifting you, pulling you forward with every one of his thrusts into you. His pace is demanding and with the g-spot stimulation and his second dick… You’re a mess. You're spilling profanities and cursing him to the worst places imaginable. Thankfully, he doesn’t understand what half the shit you’re saying means. Doubly thankful, he doesn’t stop his relentless assault on that tender spot inside of you.

The ridges on his dick are fucking incredible as he pulls out and slams back in, and it heightens the experience even more. There’s no chance you’re not going to cum from this. It’s hard to hold back, and with the new positioning you’re nearly drooling with the immense pleasure of it all. The second he palms your breasts, your eyes squeeze shut and you’re trying to hold back your climax, but it washes over you anyway. you’re squirming, cumming on him with an intense sense of need and belonging. You’re sent through the peaks of it relentlessly, his second dick rubbing away at your clit as you ride through it. It’s intense and demanding and possibly the most mind-shattering fuck you’ve ever had. Even without the whole giant-blue-alien-mate thing.

He doesn’t stop thrusting, and as you pant and groan he’s bringing you into another orgasm with the way his other member rubs against you. His strokes are becoming frantic, feral and completely brutal as he fucks deep inside you. Your pussy clenches, milking him and he snarls something in his language that you don’t yet know. He stiffens, providing only shallow thrusts that have you seeing stars. Your body is jelly as he pumps into you, then he’s tightening his hold, his blunt nails digging into your skin. His eyes flare, and you can tell he’s wishing he had the restraint to keep fucking you.

He’s groaning, a guttural feral sound that is like a sweet song in your ears. He spills inside you, pulsing and twitching and god he’s gorgeous and so sweet as he fills you. He licks at your neck and flicks his bumpy tongue over your nipples, his hands going to cradle you in his arms.

His tail is wrapped around your ankle like some kind of anchor point as you lose yourself in the pleasure of it all.

You’re brushing his hair back and nuzzling into his neck the moment he lies down beside you, pulling you into his embrace. Like you’ve been lovers for your entire lives.

His plan is likely to be just that.

#ice planet barbarians #ipb #ice planet barbarians fic #ipb fic

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transkittyinatoaster · 4 days

Text

Snack for a parasite

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Characters: Idia, Rigel, and Perse(OC by @midnightmah07)

Content warnings: Arguing, mild swearing, and discussion of ED(eating disorders)

(until my lazy self downloads some dividers, we'll have to get used to the dorm lounges)

Rigel spun his pencil on the solid tables of the dorm as he swung his legs underneath. Ahead of him was Perse whom was eating a rather mediocre meal

But there was a silence everyone grew accustomed to, as if it was a part of them

“Do you ever wonder how if the multiverse theory is correct, there's a universe where it isn't?” Rigel suddenly asked, breaking the comfortable silence. Perse stopped as she slowly looked at the demon across from her, staring at her with those curious red eyes

“Rigel, do you ever think about what you're going to say?”

He shook his head which caused her to mumble “of course,” before she continued to eat

“Hey,” she began, “did you eat?”

“Eh? Oh, yeah, I ate.” He smiled

She stared at him. “Food. Rigel. Did you eat food? Real food?” She clarified

He went silent

She sighed as she got up to go make him something, “Wha- Hey, wait!-” He got up to follow, but she was already gone, so all he could next was to just sit down

He held his hands together as his feet drummed the floor as he waited apprehensively

She didn't have to do this and she knew that

And he felt bad for the fact she was doing it

He got by on his diet

And now here she is, making sure he ate what everyone else was eating It… felt weird

The food tasted weird

Wrong

He likes the taste of the cardboard from his torn up notebooks

He took one out and tore off a piece, sticking it into his mouth as he chewed on it as a small snack

The small crunches and tears filled the otherwise silent lounge as he ate and swallowed, taking the wood in as food, even if it was the furthest thing from it

He swung his legs as he waited for her return, he probably won't eat what she made

It was pointless anyway

She could be eating the food she made herself but was making it for him

Maybe that's why the food tastes weird

It's because she's making it specifically for him instead of herself or whoever

He got up and walked around, his steps thudding against the marble as he paced in circles

Perse, on the other hand, was making Rigel some sandwiches of a wide variety for Rigel, ensuring he had something he found enjoyable

She always did find it odd when he was the only person who ate Lilia's food with splendor

She sighed as she slightly realized signs from all over the years they've been going here

Maybe he's too far deep to be saved, maybe this'll be worthless in the end

Like a snake eating its own tail

Her thoughts were broken when she saw a hand snatch one of the made sandwiches She turned and saw Idia holding it in his mouth as he grabbed other snacks

She grimaced

This was her housewarden?

“Idia, you do know that's for Rigel, right?”

He glanced at her, now holding the sandwich “Hm? Oh, yeah, I do.”

She slightly scowled

“Then why did you take it?”

He sighed, slightly scowling “I honestly don't see the point in you making food for him. He's not going to eat it. Plus, you're acting as if he's anorexic or something.” He sighed

“As sweet as what you're doing for him is, it's ultimately pointless.”

She stared at him

Appalled, in all honesty

A man, who grew up with Rigel, a man who's more of a brother to him than she is a sister Calling her efforts futile

“.... Are you fucking kidding me?”

“E-eh?” Idia squeaked, slightly shocked by her language

“Idia, do you actually pay attention to your dorm mates?”

He opened this mouth to answer only for her to continue “Oh who am I kidding, of course you don't. You're a housewarden and you can't match the faces to names of IRL people, but you do it easily in games.”

“Idia, you grew up with Rigel, you know everything about him so how the actual fuck are you going to stand there and tell me that my efforts are useless when you, of all people, should know, that Rigel's diet consists of nothing but lead, plastic, metal, dirt, wood, cardboard— Things that have no business being in anyone's diet tract, is in his!” She yelled at him, her hand slamming against the counter as she gestured to the outside

Where Rigel was

Idia shuffled nervously underneath her words

Perse was mad

Maybe her anger was directed to Idia and not doing anything sooner

Maybe it was the world

Everyone. Everything. Who knows.

Rigel heard them to

It was hard not too

Especially since some students made mumbled on how Perse when she's mad sounds like a banshee

Rigel leaned against the doorway, listening to the one sided argument between his sister and Idia

“— Maybe if you weren't so preoccupied with your own devices, you'd have known that Rigel is suffering, and-” Her voice went silent and dead as Rigel finally decided to enter

“Hey, guys!” He grinned at the two, pretending to not notice the red tips of Idia's hair turn blue again

“Ri-Rigel, how long were you there?” Perse asked

“Oh, I just got here!” He grinned at her

Idia grumbled slightly, not believing Rigel for a second but not questioning it

“I- I see… Well, I- I made you some food for later.” Perse gestured to the sandwiches she made

“Oooh! They all look so good! You didn't have to, you know that, right?” Perse nodded

The demon shifted slightly, tugging at his cloak as he stared at the pieces of food she made him

“... I'll eat it later.” He said as he grabbed some bags to put them in for later

“You'll at least have one of them for lunch, right?” She asked as she placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder

“Of course!” He lied with his black grin

His teeth reflecting the fluorescent blue lights of Ignihyde “Now, you look tired, how about you go rest?” He asked a small tilt of his head

“Well… I guess I am a little tired..” she grumbled slightly, running a hand through her hair and softly tugging at her ponytail, “I suppose a quick nap wouldn't hurt..” she mumbled with a shrug

“There ya go!” Rigel softly nudged her to the door, “you go have a nice nap, and we'll wake you if we either need anything or it's dinner.”

“Now don't keep me sleeping for that long, Idia might start a fire.” The two laughed as Rigel gave her a quick hug before she left

He turned to Idia whom also left the room, his arms filled with some snacks and such

He sighed as he backed up, leaning against the counter as his nails dug into the marble, his breath slightly quickening for whatever reason

There was nothing wrong as of this moment

But Perse's unnecessary care and love

She made this for him

For whatever reason

He stared at the bags with the sounds of nails against marble filling the silence

He wasn't going to eat them, of course

He never ate the food she gave unless she was in the room with him

He sighed as he reached took an empty bag that pulled out with another

Stuffing the plastic into his mouth as his teeth began to dig and tear, allowing it to become swallowable

His mouth made the chewing motion a few more seconds before stopping, a soft scowl forming on his features as his mind raced

Maybe—

He heard footsteps and saw a student enter

“Eh?- Oh, hello, Rigel-Senpai.” The student greeted

“Hey….”

There was an awkward silence as they two stared at another

The student went to leave, deciding that whatever he wishes to grab wasn't worth it

“Hey.” Rigel called out before they left

“Do you want a sandwich?” He smiled sweetly to the boy

tag list: @midnightmah07(hi again!)

(first time doing something like this, so if I messed up on anything, pls don't hesitate to tell me)

#twisted wonderland oc #twisted wonderland original character #twst fanfiction #disney twisted wonderland #twst #the siblings ever #I love them sm I swear #I need to make custom tags too-

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thedndgoblinwholivesinyourwalls · 16 days

Note

hiiii larkkk its me againnn i just wrote another poem instead of cleaning my room...

its about adele. from josh pov. i made myself sad writing it. he needs a break ):

also uhh, slight headcanon that i dont know if its actually a headcanon or smth youve mentioned but forgo9tten that it was YOU who said it, but!! the earrings that josh wears were given to him by adele ! originally a matching pair but adele stopped wearing hers.

also dont mind the references to the moon will sing; i just literally cannot think about josh without thinking about that song OKAY

idk why but this one is longer than the last one.... ending here is Weak but its fineeee

---

I hate it when the doubt sneaks into the edges of my mind. It's right there, just out of my reach, twisting and insidious, a ravenous parasite.

It whispers to me: “Does she really care?” “Does she see me for who I am?” “Would it matter to her if I were anyone, anyone else?”

It's harder than it should be, to not let its words convince me. Why else would you stick with someone like me? After all these years, and all you've done, you're still here with me.

Its words are like a rot though. A decay that snakes its way through my mind, through every shaky smile, hesitant nod, every time I never say what I think. They corrupt me leave me doubting what you say.

I wish it were that sort of parasite, one that's easy to get rid of. A simple pill or medication, a well-placed word, and it's gone; I'm whole again when I look at you.

And then you smile at me. Slip a pair of earring in my hands, the moonlight glinting off yours. “They match,” you whisper. Match with the necklaces that bind us together, with the pair that you too wear.

I take out my own earrings. I put the new ones in. Another part of me that belongs to you, is now a thought that I think with love instead of dread.

It appears that I've forgotten, as the parasite leaves and takes its rot with it, that maybe it is that simple. My hands don't shake as much when I talk to you now. Just how it used to be.

And soon, when you take your earrings off, and the conversations go cold again, it will return. The ground of my mind is ripe yet again for its infestation.

I don't think about it, as I fiddle with the metal in my ears. I know that in the end, you love me.

I AM IN THE HAIRDRESSERS RN SITTING LIKE THIS WHAT. OH MY GOD??? JOSH. HONEY. LIMEE. LIME BELOVED OH MY GOD AUGH

ITS SO GOOD WHAAAT-FALLING TO THE GROUND WOAHH FINALLY GOT TO RESPOND TO IT I READ IT IN CLASS AND SAT THERE WITH SHOCK ON MY FACE/POS THE HC ABOUT THE EARRINGS IS SO TRUE ITS CANON NOW OMG

i will also be drawing something with this poem shdhjshdks lime limeeee

@koymoa (friend who knows these ocs) GET OVER HERE LOOK AT THIS WHAT/POS

#I FALL OVER #AUGHHH #JOSH AND ADELE #YOU GOT THEM IN ONE AGAINNN #THANK YOU SM LIME!!!!#I KNOW I DIDN’T SAY THAT LAST TIME BUT WOAHHH #FALLS #ask #hi lime!!#<-I SAY THROUGH TEARS/POS #friend art

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blackjackkent · 1 month

Text

OK, now for the actual reason Rakha even came in here, which was definitely not to make snake-related moral decisions.

Hi Nettie!

Rakha was very patient while Nettie dealt with the bird healing, although she definitely stood slightly too close and just sort of stared at the whole process, fascinated by watching the ripple of the healing magic play out through the bird and the Weave around it.

"Now, what was it you needed?"

"I need help. Now."

One of Rakha's defining characteristics is starting to be that she simply does not sugar-coat things or try to shy away from facts about herself or the situation. Her policy seems to be - this is the state of things and it's up to you to decide how you want to react to that, and if you make it a problem, that's on you.

In this way, I suppose, she is somewhat like Hector in his compulsive honesty, although for her it is less a moral stance and more of a practical one.

In any event, she is pretty straightforward about the parasite. Nettie says she looks healthy enough, but she shakes her head and answers matter-of-factly: "Everything about me is sick. The dizzy spells, the memory loss, the illithid parasite."

Honestly she's more concerned about the memory loss part, but Nettie (understandably) fixates on the parasite. "A tadpole? A mind flayer tadpole?"

"You know of them? Can you help me?"

Nettie hesitates, and her eyes narrow with a keen expression Rakha can't quite parse. Then she nods. "I... I'll do what I can. Come, follow me. I might be able to help."

-----

She leads Rakha into a hidden back room of the sanctuary, where they find a scattered workshop full of potions and medical accoutrements - and a dead elf lying in his underclothes on a table.

"This one had the same problem as you," Nettie explains. "Attacked us in the woods together with some goblins. Tadpole crawled out of his head soon after."

Rakha squints warily. Is this a subtle threat? "So you killed him and laid him out on the table?" she asks cautiously.

"No," the healer says with a slightly sad smile. "That was Master Halsin."

Halsin. They've heard that name already. Zevlor mentioned him - the druid leader Kagha has stepped in for. The one left behind by the mercenaries.

Nettie fidgets on the table for a moment and comes up with a thin twig a little longer than Rakha's hand, lined with sharp spines. "A pity you got me instead of him," she says quietly. "He understands these things. Studied them. Still... we have options."

Rakha's head swims suddenly as the beast whines... picturing the small woman attempting to drive this stick into Rakha's eye, to pry the tadpole out, and Rakha wresting it from her hands, turning the point and lancing it deep into Nettie's throat--

"What's that plant?" she asks sharply. "Will it help?"

"It might," Nettie says with a slight shrug. "But first thing's first. Tell me about your symptoms. Have you noticed anything strange happening?"

Rakha stares at her. Yes. Everything. She cannot think of a single thing that has happened in her memory that has not been strange. "I can merge my mind with anyone else that's infected," she says, choosing one item out of the tremendous array of options.

"Victims can identify each other?" Nettie says thoughtfully. "Not that the others know they're victims, of course."

This puzzles Rakha for a moment, but then she remembers - the corpse on the road. Edowin. He also had a tadpole in his head. His siblings said they followed something called the Absolute, and they likely weren't the only ones. Others of that faction must also carry the worm - unknowingly, by Nettie's description.

"How'd you pick up the parasite?" the healer presses. "Halsin was desperate to find where all this was happening."

"On a mind flayer ship. I was kidnapped and infected." Well, the kidnapped part is a guess, based on her companions' stories. For all she knows, she lived there. Or was born from that pod fully grown. It would be no less strange than the alternatives.

"A mind flayer ship?" Oddly, this seems to surprise Nettie more than anything else. "But Master Halsin was sure--"

She stops, then squares her shoulders and looks at Rakha steadily. "Look. You've been straight with me, so I'll be straight with you. You're dangerous," she says flatly. "If you transform here, we're all dead."

A pause. "But you seem like a good soul. You deserve a chance to save yourself." She reaches into her pocket, pulls out a squat vial full of green liquid, and extends it in Rakha's direction. "This is a vial of wyvern poison. Swear to me you'll swallow it if you feel any symptoms."

Rakha goes very still.

THREAT, says the beast, uncoiling itself in her skull. KILL. Half of her mind roars with eagerness to take the bottle and shove it into Nettie's eye socket.

The rest of her is stuck on the words good soul. Why would Nettie describe her so? What cause has Rakha given her?

Based on the current conversation, to be a good soul is to answer questions plainly and to swallow poison rather than become a mind flayer. But Rakha doubts that that is all Nettie means.

Perhaps, somehow, she means whatever Wyll meant, when he said she makes her own light. That didn't make any sense either.

She reaches out abruptly, takes the bottle, squeezes it tightly in one fist. "I swear," she mutters hoarsely, her voice tight with the effort of battling the Urge back into submission. The poison will serve some use, whether in her throat or otherwise. But she does not mean to die yet, not if she can help it.

Nettie seems visibly relieved. She speaks a little more about the research she and this Halsin were doing, studying the tadpoles and their hosts, who seem to be centered around a local temple. This is also - likely not coincidentally - where the goblins are headquartered.

And Nettie has an idea.

"I've sent birds to find him," she explains, when Rakha asks if Halsin could still be alive. "But they can't get close without goblins trying to shoot them down. You, though? You're one of them - technically speaking, I mean. They won't kill someone carrying their parasite." Her voice strengthens, warming to this sudden thought. "If you can find Halsin and get him out of there, we can discover what he learned. And perhaps he can save your life. How's that sound?"

It sounds disheartening, in truth. Lae'zel has had a plan from the beginning - the creche, and yet matters have conspired to slow them in that goal repeatedly.

On the other hand... this temple is nearer at hand. Halsin might have useful answers, if he is not dead, and Rakha craves answers even more than the beast craves blood - which it will also get, if they come near goblins again. And should Halsin live, it will trouble the plans of Kagha, which... her companions would find satisfying. (And so would she, honestly.)

"All right. I'll find Halsin," she agrees.

Nettie's expression brightens. "Thank you. It would mean everything to the grove. To me."

Rakha decides not to tell her that none of that figured into her planning at all.

#bjk plays bg3 durge #rakha the dark urge #grove stuff is slow :P #lots of plot setup and no chances for rakha to do crazy durge stuff #i need to stop writing every single scene or we'll never get out of here #but also poking around in rakha's head is fun XD

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kookieswan · 2 years

Text

Red Light - Snake Eyes

Nightmare!Hoseok x Psychologist!Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Genre: Horror AU, Monster AU, Psychological horror, Angsty this time for sure.

Warnings: Heavy use of profanity, talk of killing for fun. It should be noted that this story will contain themes of horror/psychological horror and also explore obsessive behaviors and codependency. Many characters are morally gray. Please be warned!

Summary: Riding the elevator down to hell so early in the morning, you didn’t expect to be bombarded with questionable news at the gates.

Notes: MC is finally back! I hope you all find this chapter enthralling lol. This takes place nearly a week after ‘The Happiest of Trails’! It will also have a part.2!

This is the 17th part of the Red Light series. Find the Masterlist here ♥️

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“Good morning. We have a new Nightmare for you to meet and look after. Exciting, yes?” Pulling your coffee away form your lips, you stare through the now open elevator with what probably looks like a glare. Williams and Andrews stand in the other side, prim and proper with their lab coats and greasy smiles. It disgusts you. Hoseok had said to avoid them, and you’ve tried, but they just keep showing up like parasites.

Every time you left your office it’s like either Williams or his cronies had to be there too. In the break room, by the bathroom when you walked out, by the elevator when you used it. It didn’t matter, they were there. You haven’t seen Hoseok for days now, and for some reason, you’re nervous about what he’ll speak of at your next appointment. And then it fully registers.

“Excuse me?” A new Nightmare… Now five instead of four, and another patient to worry about. You don’t mind, not really, but it’s being sprung on you without any notice first thing in the morning. You’re starting to see a pattern with your annoyance. Williams gestures for you to step out of the elevator, and so you do so cautiously.

“We got a new Nightmare in last night. He’s… Well, he’s rather mad about being captured. We want you to talk to him.” Rather mad…? Of course he’s mad; you don’t know exactly what they do to capture the Nightmares, but you can’t imagine it’s pleasant. However, it doesn’t sound like the situation will be pleasant for you either.

“You want me to talk to the new Nightmare you just captured who is likely still very unruly and will probably want to kill me.” Not a question, a statement, because you know he does. Williams nods his head as Andrews continues to stare from behind him, not even blinking. You’re starting to wonder if they’re actually human themselves with how odd they are.

“Yes, well, they all likely want to kill you so that sounds about right. It is your job after all.” Something throbs behind your eyes, the thought of slapping the man over the head with your notebook sounding more than pleasing. He takes every chance he can to be a misogynistic pig after all. Pinching your nose, you try very hard not to sound peeved.

“Yes, my job after I’ve prepped accordingly. After if studied the Nightmare and read his files. My guess is that he doesn’t even have a file yet.” You studied all of the other Nightmares files down to the bone, even Seokjin’s, just to make sure you didn’t have a misstep. This new Nightmare is going to be a wildcard and you don’t like that. Not a single bit. Williams just shrugs and turns away, Andrews walking in front of him.

“You’re guess would be correct, we do have a small amount of notes though. Now, come with me. Since the other Nightmares on this floor already share rooms, our newest is in a room by himself. Probably a good thing, considering how agitated he seems to be.” You follow the men as they speed down the hallways and drone on, and it’s relatively obvious to figure out where the newest addition on this floor resides. The outside is more guarded than usual, at least eight men compared to the usual two. Fantastic. Williams shoves some of his papers into your hands rudely, still babbling on like an idiot.

“Here we are! You’ll have card access for this room from now on, and like usual, the guards will be stationed outside. Try not to worry, he’s chained up quite well to prevent shifting further and shouldn’t be able to leave his cell. All we want from you for the time being is to calm him down, I’m sure you can at least do that.” You’ve never craved you the comfort of your office quite as much as you do right now. All you can do is stand quietly as the guards unlock the door.

It opens slowly, just like the others, but you take the opportunity to peer inside right away. The nightmare sits in the middle of his cell, chained down to the floor in a number of different devices. From what you note right off the bat, he has an unnatural hair color and eyes are a little off, eyes that are wide and glaring right at you. Also, his lower body doesn’t contain legs, no… Just a tail that looks shockingly similar to a snake.

You step in quietly, aware that no one else follows you into the room as the door clangs shut. Like usual, there’s a chair and table sitting for you in the middle of the room, close to his cell, for you to sit down in. You do so, the Nightmares eyes never leaving you, twitching with every move you make. It’s undergoing to say the least, but not a terrible start to things.

“Hello, I’m doc-“ You don’t even get to settle down in the chair fully before there’s a hiss, and then the Nightmares voice rumbles through the room. It’s full of venom, he’s clearly less than happy to be here by his tone. You don’t blame him, but still, the aggression isn’t where you wanted things to go.

“Go fuck yourself bitch.” Honestly, you can’t decide if you’re insulted or if you want to laugh. The situation itself is so unbelievable and unprofessional, you’re not even sure what to feel about it. So, you continue to smile and get on with it, hiding your laughter effectively. Maybe taking it in stride will calm him slightly.

“Lovely to meet you too. Now-“ Cut off again, the Nightmare spits at you. It lands against the clear wall sweltering you, slowly steaming as if it’s burning the material. Perhaps he’s venomous…? It doesn’t look like it’s burning through the wall though.

“Was that supposed to scare me? You can’t get through the cell wall, I’m sorry.” He blinks at you, twisted smile curling up on his face as his teeth make an appearance. Most look sharper than usual, his canines a concerning length. Still, you keep a blank face and cross your legs together with a hum.

“I could fucking eat you alive in seconds, tear you limb from limb. Nothing would make me more happy than to massacre every person in this shit heap.” So his temperament is somewhat similar to Yoongi’s, that much is clear. Yoongi has a buffer with Jungkook though, but this one… You’re not quite sure what to do with him yet, you’re not even sure where to start.

“I’m sure you could. But, since you’re all chained up and locked behind that door, you can’t. Now, would you like to tell me your name?” He snarls, pulling against his chains, eyes still wild as he whips his head around. Even if he were to get loose, he wouldn’t be able to get through the cell. You almost feel bad for the man. Almost.

“It’s none of your fucking business you prissy little bitch.” He’s trying to get you riled up with personal attacks… interesting. The Nightmare settles back down, huffing and twitching every so often, but no longer writhing in the chains. Glancing down at the few papers Williams did give you, you decided to just stay as professional as possible today.

“Alright, I’ll just refer to you as your assigned number for now. Does that bother you at all?” It’s about all he has in his notes. That, and the fact that he’s quite unruly and dangerous. They haven’t classified him in the star scale yet but something tells you he won’t score low.

“Do whatever you want, I don’t fucking care.” At least he didn’t call you a bitch this time. Progress perhaps? That, or he’s just tired himself out. Nodding along with another pleasant smile, you sit a little straighter and address him again, confident that you’ll get somewhere with him. It’s your job after all.

“Okay… So, is there anything you’d like to tell me about yourself 061313?”

#red light ♥️#hoseok x y/n #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok angst #hoseok fluff #bts x you #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts angst #bts fluff #bts horror au #bts monster au

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zooophagous · 1 year

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Today's entry of Wayward Souls deals with the aftermath of Mr. Strauss' big night on the town and is an aside exploring the point of view of a side character.

I went back and forth over when the best time was to share this. It's sort of been bothering me ever since it happened, and my therapist told me it's healthy to share and write it down. For a couple of reasons, I hesitated. First, because it sounds stupid. At best, people would think I was exaggerating for attention. Second, because some really sketchy people really, really didn't want me to say anything.

Well, sue me.

For the purposes of our story, you can call me "Tina." Fake name, just in case someone figures out I blabbed, but it's not like they'll have a hard time figuring it out from the details anyway.

I used to work at a pet store as a sales associate. I say 'used to' because after what I saw, I'm not going back in there. I didn't even go back to get my last check. I made them mail it. This wasn't a nice pet store, it was a chain store. A Pets-R-Inn in a shitty strip mall. The sort of pet store that sells puppies and always sort of smells like shit.

You know the type. Yeah, I know it's bad. I knew it was bad while I worked there. I figured maybe I could work part time with animals and elevate the care a little bit, you know? I can't make a store stop selling puppies but I can make sure the puppies are clean. I can scoop a dead fish out of a tank. I can quarantine a sick rat before it infects the others. Maybe trying to make a difference in a place like that was my first mistake.

I've seen so much shit and vomit and pee and parasites it would make your head spin. I'm not saying this to bring down the 'good name' of the chain pet store that sells sickly puppy mill dogs for three grand a piece and pays just above the federal minimum wage in the year of our Lord 2023 however. No, that's a rant for another time.

I'm telling you this so you understand that I have a strong stomach. You HAVE to have a strong stomach when you work with animals. Any time you work with living things, inevitably you're going to work with dying things. Especially when most of the animals you work with are rodents with a natural lifespan not even a tenth of your own, who all live in close quarters and share their food and water and diseases alike.

I'm not being dramatic. I'm not getting worked up over nothing and I am NOT making this up. I was a good worker and I was good at my job. I didn't let one weird guy ruin it for me. It was ruined for me by a monster. And now I'm terrified I'm being followed by the FBI or the CIA or some government something. I don't know who they are. I don't care anymore. If I go missing maybe whoever reading this can figure out who to blame.

I'm getting off track here. So, this one day, I'm working the shop by myself. It was sort of a cold rainy day, real grey and dark. My stupid shit head manager Derek takes off for a "meeting" that was a 2 hour lunch he didn't clock out for, and left me to run the shop alone.

Not a huge deal, when I'm alone I can slack off and do whatever, and the major chores for the day were done because it was dead slow so I was just at the counter on my phone. As I'm standing there the door jingles open and this guy walks in.

I look up a little and say hi. I'm not really paying as much attention to him as I should, because he sort of looks like he knows what he wants already and heads right in. He looked sort of bedraggled, scruffy, but a lot of our customers are "animal people" who have dirty stuff to do so I don't think much of it. It was half storming outside anyway.

He goes back to where we keep the feeder mice. Now, I'm sure you're probably aware that snakes eat whole prey. Well, we try really hard to get our customers to switch to frozen whole prey instead of live because live isn't as humane, and being the kindly little Snow White I am, I start preparing my spiel.

I see he's already trying to open the cages. That's no good. Liability. God forbid someone get bit by a rat or drop the whole fucking fish tank full of them and sue us. Or worse, some bleeding heart trying to "save" them again by stealing them or turning them loose.

So I'm helpful and I go back with my keys and I say to him "Hey, I need to be the one to open that for you." Now I actually do get a look at the guy. He's muddy. Like covered in mud. Soaked. He looks homeless and he might be having an episode of some sort and Derek is still gone. Great.

By this time he's got the cage open. Which, by the way, is locked. He broke the lock. The padlock. With his hands. His hands that are now rooting around in a tank full of white mice. I don't really want to stop him. I don't think I CAN stop him. He turns around and he looks at me.

He's got a little pink tail coming out of his mouth. He has a mouse in his fucking mouth. He ate a fucking mouse.

My chest gets tight and I don't really know if I should scream or if that will make it worse but I'm screaming anyway and he spits the mouse out and shoves another one into his mouth and I hear it CRUNCH and he stares me dead in the eyes while he does it.

Speaking of eyes, his were glowing. The way a cats eyes sort of shine in different colors. He's taking a step towards me and I see he's got more mice in his hand and he has claws on his hand instead of nails.

This is when I started yelling. Not screaming, really, more of a holler. An angry yell. A garbled sort of half terror and half "what the fuck do you think you're doing" that came out in a single loud note that cut my throat raw as I let it out.

I hear the door jingle again. I'm hoping it's Derek. No, just more customers, or so I thought. They're yelling at him. He backs off, he's like... hiding from them? I think for a moment I'm saved, that maybe this is just some sort of patient that wandered away from his handlers or something. But then more people pile in.

And now one of them has a gun.

Somehow or other it has now managed to ESCALATE. This guy fucking panics, throws down a whole shelf of cages and they all shatter. There are mice EVERYWHERE. They don't just scatter though, they're running together in a swarm towards the lady with a gun. Did I mention it was a lady? I thought it was weird it was a lady. Usually ladies don't shoot up stores.

But anyway these mice are running to her and running up her legs and she's screaming and while she's freaking out the guy rushes them and knocks everyone over and he's just out of there like a bat out of Hell. The crowd runs off with him, and suddenly I'm alone again.

Just surrounded by broken glass, loose mice, and no explanation at all of what the fuck just happened. It was about this time Derek FINALLY decided to grace me with his presence and yell at me for all the shit that went wrong. As if I could have stopped it.

And of course he didn't believe me until AFTER he saw the security footage. I mean granted I sounded like a mess but what the Hell kind of lie would it be that a crazy person came in and started eating mice?

The aftermath was Hell. I had to stay late that night catching mice and cleaning up broken glass and spilled bedding. He broke the door too on his way out, which Derek had to leave yet again to go get a chain and padlock to keep it shut while I stayed behind and had another panic attack.

While I was cleaning up I found a couple of dead ones. Mice, I mean. They're not built to be thrown around like that. One I found though was very interesting. It was dead, yes, but it looked like it had been dead a while.

It was hard to the touch, and brittle. Mummified like a cat in the wall of an old building. I thought maybe it had escaped a long time ago and the activity only just now knocked the carcass loose from wherever it was stuck. But its fur was damp, and it had a large, suspiciously tooth shaped gash in its abdomen.

It was the mouse that guy ate. Except he didn't eat it. He just... sucked every drop of fluid out of it and spit it back out. Then he went back for more. He wasn't eating them, just... juicing them.

After finding that I finally gave up and called it quits. I didn't have it in me to keep cleaning and I wasn't sure I could come back to the store either, so despite Derek's vociferous petulant protests I went home.

Aside from suddenly being jobless, life was quiet and normal after that. I avoided the store but I'm told the creepy guy never came back. I thought maybe that lady actually shot him, not sure if it would really make me feel bad or not.

But the story doesn't just end there. Oh no! I should be so lucky! No, seeing someone having an episode or a meth bender or what have you is definitely distressing, but it doesn't really typically tip the scales from a moment of terror and confusion to a chronic anxiety that you're being followed and watched.

A few days after that little incident, I get a knock at my door. I open it, and I find an official looking little envelope. Maybe it's a subpoena to be a witness to the crime or whatever. I open it up.

No, it's a letter. Addressed to me, personally. "Dear Redacted, my name is Ursula Harker, I am writing on behalf of the Van Helsing Institute relating to a recent incident at 'Pets R Inn' retail store, in which you were the victim of an assault and may be entitled to financial compensation. Please contact me at your earliest convenience. This is an attempt to settle the matter out of court without the input of the police. By accepting our cash offer you are relinquishing your right to file civilly against the Institute, and agreeing to a non-disclosure cause. The Institute can be reached at..."

You get the idea. So I call this woman, Miss Ursula Harker. Even her name sounds creepy. She picks up, I tell her who I am. She immediately starts apologizing to me, promising to pay for any store damages or medical bills and then some. Asking to buy my silence. So I tell her I've only got one question for her.

She says go ahead.

I ask her "What was that guy?"

She starts telling me that his name is Luther and he's a patient at such and such and I cut her off and I say again No.

What was that guy?

She's quiet for a bit and she asks what I mean. Now, I'm not a doctor. But I know a decent amount about animals. And I know this. People don't have eyes that glow in the dark. People also can't desiccate a mouse by sucking it dry in five seconds flat. She hesitates but then starts making excuses about HIPAA laws and how she can't discuss their patients and she asks me how much it would take for me to stay quiet.

I hang up on her.

Maybe that was really stupid. Could have got some cash out of the deal. The store got a new door and a nice fat payday they spent on a facelift for the place, and it only cost them their security footage.

More than that, it was really stupid because they kept calling me. She left me at least three messages before giving up. I was afraid to leave my apartment. They already knew my name and obviously knew where I lived. And they were protecting that guy... that THING somehow. Maybe they were the ones who made him? Like he was an experiment that got out and they were doing damage control?

I did a little asking around about "The Van Helsing Institute" and all I could find was that it's a private Catholic hospital. A "research hospital," whatever the fuck research that entails, I don't want to know about it.

The craziest shit though, is that this has apparently happened before. While I was digging around I found the contact info for a guy called "John." He's apparently an ex employee and now very outspoken critic of that hospital, trying to gather as much dirt on them as he can. I gave him my story, and all the descriptions I could. Basically if I see anything even remotely weird I report to him now.

It feels good, I guess, not being alone. I don't know that he could actually protect me if they got mad and came after me but I like that someone is watching them. Someone is keeping score. Mostly it feels good to know that I actually saw what I saw. It was a monster, I'm not crazy, and I think I did the right thing not selling my silence even though the lack of a paycheck hurts.

I keep getting more and more paranoid though. I've been seeing this weird woman follow me around town. Not the gun one- a different one this time. She's got sort of a medium tan skin tone, she's very petit, and she has this incredibly long dark hair and dark eyes. It makes her stand out in a crowd. I see her more and more whenever I'm out and I don't know if she's with John or with... the other guys.

I don't go out much after dark any more. I don't know how much this involves me now but I'm trying to move back in with my mom in Wisconsin. If I make it, you won't hear from me again. If I don't, just keep an eye on the obituaries. If I die, let it be known I don't want any part of my body used for research. It should be burned.

#wayward souls #writing

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heavensbeehall · 23 days

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"The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes," Chapter 5

Part I: The Mentor

Chapter 5: Coryo is upset about the demerit, but gets better when people give him attention. Okay, fine. I relate to that. He goes back to the zoo. Sejanus is there trying to get the tributes to eat sandwiches. Lucy Gray and most of the tributes take one. Marcus won't. Lucy Gray is skeptical of Coriolanus. Lucy Gray sings the Valley Song. Sejanus reveals that Marcus was his classmate in District 2. He offers to trade tributes with Coriolanus, who declines.

A self-important little girl marched up beside them and pointed to a sign on the pillar at the edge of the enclosure. “It says, ‘Please don’t feed the animals.’” “They’re not animals, though,” said Sejanus. “They’re kids, like you and me.” “They’re not like me!” the little girl protested. “They’re district. That’s why they belong in a cage!”

I hate this child. Can we sacrifice her instead of Prim or Rue?

His stomach growled at the smell of the sandwich. A thick slice of meat loaf on white bread.

Do people really put meatloaf on bread? This is shocking information. I just googled it and found recipes. What a waste of perfectly good bread (I don't like meatloaf).

Lucy Gray watched the standoff with interest. “What’s going on there?” “What do you mean?” Coriolanus asked. “I don’t know exactly,” she said. “But it feels personal.”

Coryo, like Katniss, isn't great at interpersonal dynamics, is he?

Her usual playful tone shifted to a sober one. “So, as my mentor, what do you get out of this? You’re at school, right? So you get what? A better grade the more I shine?”

[insert insightful comment about Lucy Gray having a performance voice and a regular one. Comapre to Finnick.]

Sejanus looked down at the empty backpack by his feet. “Ever since the reaping, I keep imagining I’m one of them.” Coriolanus almost laughed before he realized Sejanus was serious. “That seems like an odd pastime.”

Empathy: An Odd Pastime

There was one more consideration. He had something Sejanus Plinth wanted, and wanted badly. Sejanus had already usurped his position, his inheritance, his clothes, his candy, his sandwiches, and the privilege due a Snow. Now he was coming for his apartment, his spot at the University, his very future, and had the gall to be resentful of his good fortune.

Coriolanus sounds like one of those white kids who gets mad at PoC for taking "their spot" at Harvard or whatever. Mediocre parasites.

#tbosas #sejanus plinth #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #thg reread #thg reread tbosas #suzanne collins #lucy gray baird #meatloaf

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miroana · 1 year

Text

My Lightbringer predictions

SPOILER WARNING — many, many spoilers for Dark Age and the rest of the series too, of course. Read forward at your own discretion.

@pierce-brown feel free to let me know if I’m right.

Kalindora (the Love Knight) was poisoned by Atalantia

- I’m completely certain of this. When has Darrow EVER used poison on his blade? To put it simply, he doesn’t need it. Atalantia, on the other hand, wears an actual venomous snake around her neck at all times (and I do mean all). Plus, Darrow’s slingBlade was shattered during Lysander’s little jousting session immediately after Kalindora was allegedly mortally wounded. I don’t see Lysander slowly dying in agony from poisoned metal shards embedded in his arm.

- Atalantia has a lot to gain from Kalindora’s death — namely, Lysander au Lune’s name and allegiance, his renewed vigor for war, and the (frankly, disturbing) relationship she establishes with him. Plus, Kalindora was a competitor in terms of political sway in the society reminant.

Volga narration

- Her journey with the Ascomanni needs to be told by someone. Who better than by her?

- Also, following the… umm… “worthy” scene, we’re short a narrator. Eph watching his own heart be eaten was really dark, Pierce. It only makes sense for Volga to pick up his legacy.

Diomedes au Raa plays a significant role

- Diomedes represents Iron Golds of the Rim and is currently with the Society reminant, but we know he healed and freed Cassius (who appears to be working with the Republic). He walks a stiletto line between allegiances, and after the deaths of Romulus and Seraphina, he’s basically the heir to the Rim.

- He has a very strong brand of honor that fits well with the honor shown by Cassius. Diomedes saved Cassius before and led him back to the Republic, and I doubt their relationship has concluded with that.

- Diomedes is also very aware of how traitorous, and, well, messed up, the Core Golds of the Society are, and we already know that he’s hesitant to ally with them.

The Blues will rally around Darrow

- It was mentioned in Golden Son that there are blue training academies on Phobos, which is a moon of Mars. Darrow needs a fleet, desperately, and we all know he’s a master at shifting the paradigm. Also, the Republic still has Colloway, a hero to the blues, and the ace pilot has not yet performed his pièce de résistance.

- I very much doubt Colloway will survive the next book, unfortunately. I hope I’m wrong.

Pax vs Adrius 2.0

- Forshadowed by the Abomination hoping to have a “passage” by killing Pax. I feel confident, however, that Pax will own Adrius, although not kill him. I mean, half of the kid’s DNA is Reaper’s and half is Mustang’s. Come on now.

- Bonus points if Pax kills Lilath too. please

Lykos is destroyed

- By this point, everyone and their mother knows about Darrow’s big, wonderful, bleeding heart, and Society Golds are great at cutting straight for vital organs. Especially if Mars is the final planet protected by the Republic — I just can’t see Lykos township surviving Lightbringer if multiple armies siege the planet.

Lyria infiltrates the Jackal’s dominions on Luna or Tokyo

- As the new Figment, her abilities and their source are incredibly unclear. I think she would do well in a mission like this, and along the way, maybe she can somehow free Sevro and we can find out what exactly the Parasite is. Hopefully, Victra is part of this too.

Quicksilver’s allegiances have changed

- I don’t trust this man one bit. Why was he so comfortable when Virginia blew off the Silver voting bloc just before the Day of Red Doves? Where did the Rim get those new ships that travel so much faster than those of the Core? Honestly, the trillionaire may be funding the Society too. War profiteering is the name of the game for Quicksilver, and I wouldn’t be surprised if his original backing of the Sons of Ares and the Rising was more of a successful investment than a moral cause.

Virginia and Lysander speak

- Somehow, somewhere.

- Lysander most definitely blames Virginia for the deaths of his grandmother, Octavia, as well as Aja, and this must be addressed. Lysander once trusted her, when he was a child, and understands just how brilliant she is, so hearing her perspective could change everything for him.

- I think Virginia’s influence, combined with the revelation about Kalindora’s death at the hands of Atalantia, will be a step in turning Lysander to the side of the Rising. Lysander is incredibly intelligent and empathetic, so I don’t think he is entirely lost yet, despite his horrifying plunge into space racism and rather unfortunate spearing of Darrow. It will be a slow and perilous change, spread over the next two books, but I believe the last Lune will figure out where the light is eventually.

I look forward to finding out what I got right when Lightbringer drops this July!

Hic sunt leones.

#red rising #dark age #pierce brown #darrow of lykos #darrow au andromedus #virginia au augustus #lysander au lune #sevro au barca #cassius au bellona #diomedes au raa #light bringer #dark age spoilers #lionheart #howlers

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beyondthebackup · 11 months

Note

Alternative's next breath caught in his throat as an unpleasant sensation snaked up his spine like a fever's chill. ❛ you aren't scared of me, are you? ❜

"You aren't scared of me, are you?"

Backup whispers, straddling Alternative in his twin bed for the very first time.

A's eyes snap open in an instant, clearly startled no matter how hard he may try to hide it. It's the dead of night, so dark that B is nothing but a shadow, even as he presses his weight down onto A's body.

"I wonder...what were they thinking, putting us in the same bedroom?

Did they intend for us to get along?

If you were in a different room, you could at least lock your door. I'm excellent at lockpicking, but you'd have a potential witness in your roommate.

Here, it's just A and B. Every day and every night...even as we're asked to compete. To destroy one another.

They must've known one of us would be devoured eventually. Like a parasitic twin in the womb. There is not enough room for the both of us.

Do those adults really think it will happen fairly and cleanly? With one of us just accepting defeat? I don't believe that for a second.

This...must be part of the test. Our proximity. If they wanted two geniuses to survive long enough to be of use to them, they would've locked us both in cages and kept us as far away from one another as possible. Otherwise..."

B reveals the scalpel A gave him as a peace offering all that time ago. A cannot see it - he can only feel the chill of metal pressing against the thin skin protecting his jugular vein.

"It's just too easy for me to win. Right now. For all your brilliance, dear A, none of it can protect you from the weakness of your flesh."

Lightly, carefully, almost lovingly, he grazes the sharp tip of the blade down the length of Alternative's neck.

"A moment ago, you were unconscious. You might have never woken up. Even now, you're completely at my mercy. I could do whatever I wanted to you and no one could stop me. That has been true every single night you've slept next to me in this bed. Do you realize that?"

Suddenly, B shoves the scalpel into A's mouth, pushing it against the corner of his lips. He leans forward until their foreheads meet, and A can feel the warmth of his excited breath.

"I think about it all the time."

For a few agonizing moments, they stay just like this. Perfectly still. The silence and the darkness cloaking them in a world where nothing else exists. Frozen in time.

B withdraws the knife in one swift motion, cutting into the corner of A's mouth as a result. It should sting and bleed, but not scar. At least, not permanently. B slips the scalpel back into his pocket and slowly sits back up.

"Goodnight, Alternative."

B crawls from A's bed and back into his own.

#a-for-alternative #ask #idk which do whatever you like with this #plot #drabble

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quinntamsin · 1 year

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One Piece: Amazon Lily Arc

Kizaru tore through the pirate Captains and their cfews without abandon. SHe watched as the Supernovas did their best to fight the strange giant humans. Light flshed so brightly she had to cover her eyes. A loose growl in her throat as she used her zoan form to leap from her hiding place atop the giant mangrove. Landing on her feet she dodge an oncoming blast of fire as a Marine company sent a volley of bullets her way. Each movement she did required all of her enhanced reflexes, Only when she went sailing over the edge, though, did she truly know fear. --- The Amazon Lily Arc, whoa! WE got this far! Luffy is sent flying after a moment of pure gut- wrenching despair. His body is struck by the power of Kuma's Nikyu Nikyu no Mi and on his way at high speed through the air. After he strikes the ground we find him in the one place perhaps he shouldn't be. Amazon Lily, home to the all-cisfemale (YES I AM INCLUDING OKAMA and NEWKAMA IN THIS ASSESSMENT!) Kuja Tribe. We get to meet Marguerite and her friends as they discover poor Luffy after he stupidly consumes a parasitic mushroom. Bouncing forward and skipping over the anime dick jokes with the Kuja, what is most important here is how Luffy reacts. He wakes up, freaks out and yet as he gets chased he doesn't intentionally try to ruin a bunch of stuff. Instead, he nearly dies and get's saved by Marguerite while her friends, Sweet Pea, and Aphelandra do their best to support her. A few things about the Kuja I like. One yes, some have the pretty curvy designs of the typical One Piece women, but many also have pretty different body types. WE see broad-chested women, short, plump and more. Plus, yes, they all wear bikini's in a pretty blunt manner which is all the better when Luffy ignores everything. I love how Luffy is easily this lovable Ace motherfucker who just wants to make people happy. Now skipping through all the shenanigans Boa Hancock comes in after turning entire Marine Crew to Stone. After Luffy pops into her bath and sees her back she flips out (with good reason). The Snake Princess is shown in parts of this arc as cold and distant. Her looks and her fruit make people love her without any really deeper feeling. They see her as an object, and this makes her painful backstory all the worse. Plus I wanna say that I love her sisters, Sonia is just a fucking darling. And, Marigold is just this awesome fat goddess who can kick serious ass. The scene after they take over Luffy's execution after he defeats their giant panther is, funny and interesting. It sets up the Boa sisters as cold, and brutal. They use their Haki to easily defeat and toy with Luffy. When they move to smash the stone forms of Marguerite, Sweetpea and Aphelandra I was calling for Luffy to destroy them. There is a point to this brutality though, the sisters have been shaped by their society which forbids men, and they were tortured. So just as Luffy first unleashes a mega Conqueror's Haki burst and soundly starts kicking their asses I cheered loudly for him. One Piece is a show I can just watch for Hours and just feel good about. With gusto! I was lost in writing when I saw Sonia knocked toward the sharpened spikes and heard how her mark would be exposed. Seeing Luffy just leap onto Sonia's back even after she eagerly threatened to smash one of her own people was a clincher for why I love him. Wait no, it was him say, yup fuck my freedom, save your people please! Yeah, Luffy has a level of goodness that just makes me feel better. Boa Hancock's Backstory So, I didn't go much into my feelings on the Celestial Dragons, but lets ignore the fact that they are literal caricatures of what rick people really do! SO. All three young girl were captured as cabin girls on their own ship and then branded with the "Dragon's Claw". Let that sink in, these were young teens sold into slavery for some monsters. I swear if these fuckers were wearing crosses and were part of a mega-church or even a republican meeting! Yup, the girls got away after they were experimented on and wow. The amount of trauma they all went through and the fact they can still lead a country is pretty impressive. All of the stories and the coldness they show to their people is kind of explained in their trauma. Honestly, I am so glad they ran with how blunt the story was. Because any other idiot would have turned this into a tragic villain scene. Instead, we got a scene that shows us how a ruler can easily become distant from her own people. If they show weakness they think the people will turn on them. Damn, you think that the kids making a homemade statute would prove the opposite. I think the dissonance I felt as I watch them threaten to smash Marguerite versus revealing their trauma was surreal. It really shows how much emotional distant and masking the three do. All to maintain the false story of the Gorgon Sisters. Preparing For Impel Down After Hancock acquiesce to Luffy's request to save (and yes I realize I'm skipping a plot beat or two) she gets a pretty thorough verbal comment from Granny Nyon. As Luffy prepares to leave Hancock becomes suddenly sick. WE learn that all of Luffy's compassion has given her reason to fall head over heels in love with him. This was a bit of a weird scene, that her cold heart would come to fixate so much she could die outside his presence. The scenes where we see Luffy and her traveling aboard the ship alone was strange. Hancock's lovesickness seems a bit out of left field for me, I would have preferred if it was a little less sudden. Now, know beforehand she had a thing for Luffy. Hell, I even tried to find a few fanfics that played around the relationship. The problem is I couldn't find any really shorter than 50k words that kept my interest. Please don't blame me that I prefer Nami and Luffy. Please note, I headcanon Luffy as a nonbinary ace hero. Overall This setting does a good job of showing more abilities derived from Haki. The idea that up until now we've barely seen it becomes more realistic as it seems it's not a widely practice gift outside of the New World. Sentamarou was a master of Armament Haki and it appears the Kuja use it as well to empower their attacks. This was a decent continual show of what Haki can achieve and it was a nice way to show how Devil Fruits can be defeated by Haki users. If Luffy didn't have his experience in battle he wouldn't have dodged all those Kuja arrows. If he didn't have Second Gear, he wouldn't have defeated Sonia or Marigold without it really. The increased speed was the only way he really got around Sonia's observation Haki and the increased velocity for his strikes assisted him against Marigold. This is a big change from when we first saw a certain annoying Skypeian using "Mantra" (Satori) against Sanji. Or hell, Shank's in episode one from the get-go. Conclusion This Arc focused on Luffy regaining a sense of hope. Watching him break down in Saobody when everyone disappeared was nerve-wracking. As someone who has felt a sense of despair, I will never reach Luffy's level. The poor kid loses his entire found family and finds out his brother is to die not long after. The actual way they emphasized each disappearance by Kuma by a bubble popping was tightened the anxiety I felt as I watched. Switching suddenly to something a bit more filled with hope was a nice change of pace. I say hope because both Hancock and Luffy brought it to each other. Luffy brought about the physical beating of two Celestial Dragons. Plus saving a friend of his from slavery ups the reality of how much Hancock can show some trust. Hancock, on the other hand, and as she treats her people better gives Luffy stability. It also seemed to give him time to remember his crew wasn't dead. They were all just sent flying everywhere. A pause to recover from watching everyone almost die. Hottakes:

That poor giant boar at the beginning, he deserved better.

The entire scene with Luffy being considered a girl was, so weird for me.

Like I was happy that the girls were like "ah yes another woman", but then the mushroom jokes and body washing. eeeww.

Mageurite deserves a bigger part in a side story, watching her help Luffy was interesting.

Sweatpea was a fucking amazing bean.

Aphelandra really shows how people in One Piece can be super tiny or fucking giants, and NOT BE ACTUAL GIANTS.

Momonga, wtf is up with the naming of this world.

The Mero-Mero no Mi is such a weird fruit, it's a fruit that creates a great sense of attraction and can turn people to stone if they have lewd thoughts.

THE FUCK ODA?!

The snake forms on Sonia and Margold into big titty nagas, shows that furries are well loved in ONe Piece.

I like how they are emphasizing this weird sort of fated pairing of Luffy almost in a folkloric way. He and her have Conqueror's Haki which is pretty damn rare.

Hancock needs a good Polyam ship with Vivi and Nami.

Robin would adore Amazon Lily since it appears to have constant sense of archaeological history.

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