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emberwood-if · 1 year

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How would the ROs react to mc saying that “they’d wished they’d never met them” (I’ve seen this ask everywhere and the angst is too good)

*rolls up sleeves*

Alex: Alex steps backward as if struck, their usual face of indifference giving way to one you've never seen before: hurt. They inhale deeply, their eyes darting around everywhere but your face. It's almost as if they're trying to escape...or better yet, brace themself for the next moment that feels so vital. So world shattering. Your words hang in the air for a moment before Alex inhales, fixing their face back to that emotionless mask you've come to recognize as their own.

"Wish granted." It feels almost like mockery, the way Alex dutifully curtsies and bows their head to you. Still, you can't help but notice that they don't look you in the eye. Their face crumpling when they turn away fully and breeze out of the room with a speed that leaves you speechless.

K: K swallows hard, their eyes going from your face to your feet like they're soaking you in one last time. "Is that what you want?" they ask, voice hollow with an emotion you can't place. "Is that what you really want?" You open your mouth to speak but clamp it shut a moment later. You have nothing to say. Your mind is the TV static on an unavailable channel. Your blood rushes to your ears like a tidal wave.

K smooths their hands on their pants and nods, frowning. "Okay." They suck in a sharp breath. "Okay." For a moment they look lost, dazed, before nodding. "Okay," they say one last time, much quieter now.

You're left to do nothing but watch K leave.

Dani: Dani's brows furrow. "Me?" A sharpness takes over their town, pitching with a shakiness you've never heard from them. They step forward, coming so close you stumble back out of surprise. "I wish I'd never met you." With every word, their voice gets lower, less confident. You know it's a lie; you can sense it in the way their lower lip shudders, the way they can't even look you in the eye. Or how...resigned they appear, their lips thinning with a somber acceptance that makes you want to grab the words you spoke in the air and take them back. But you can't. What's said is said.

Fight harder, you want to scream, fight like you always do.

Why now? Why does Dani want to be agreeable now, of all times? Now, when you need their fighting spirit the most.

"I guess we're finally on the same page." Dani's voice cracks at the last word, but they keep their chin high, pride hitting the final nail in the coffin.

"I guess we are," you reply, the burning touch of tears stinging your throat.

F: F stares at you for a moment before letting out a small laugh. "Come on, MC. You don't mean that." You rear away when they try to give you a playful nudge, and F's easy smile slowly slides off their face. They clear their throat, straightening. "Don't say that," they say strongly. "Whatever you're feeling...I'll give you space. Just, please, don't say that."

You say nothing, burning holes in the space behind F's shoulder. You always liked F's lack of armor; they never hid how they felt. When they were happy, they were happy. Excited. Amused.

F thought it was a character flaw. You found it endearing. But now, seeing the hurt on their face, you understand what they meant.

You hate how F can't even hide how much those words hurt.

"I'm just..." Their words get caught in their throat. "I'll just leave you alone." With glassy eyes, F turns around slowly, as if to give you ample time to tell them to stop. When you don't, you see their shoulders lift with their inhalation before they speed off, leaving a burst of wind in their wake.

Perry: Perry's eyes widen and his lips part. He runs a hand through his hair, his face going through a million emotions at once. You know him; you know he's trying to decide whether to react as Perry, your {boy} friend or Perry, your mentor.

He looks at you, face stricken with pain. "MC, let's talk about it-"

"I don't want to."

He sucks in a sharp breath. At his side, his fist clenches. "Okay. I..." He blows a breath through rounded cheeks. "I just remembered I have to do something. Um, I'll see you." He doesn't even let you speak before he's teleporting away, leaving you alone.

N: N's brows furrow, and they rub their arm slowly, not meeting your eyes. "Do you mean that?" they ask, their voice soft. Their reaction isn't unexpected; N always has a delicate almost wary way to them.

They shake their head, answering the question for you. "Of course you did. It's not the first time I've heard that."

Something within you churns with heat. "N-"

"I don't regret meeting you." N's voice is firm in its conviction, it's almost surprising. "And I'm sorry."

You say nothing as N manages a small smile before turning away, rushing out the room.

E: E stares at you, narrowing their eyes from their spot against their desk. You don't even know how it ended up like this; in their office, arguing, saying things you're not sure you even meant.

"You should go home," E says firmly, their voice distant. They absently toy with papers on their desk, evidently avoiding your gaze. "It's getting late."

"E-"

"Please," E pleads. For the first time they're vulnerable, you realize. Exposed in a way they've never been before. E isn't the one to show weakness; emotional or otherwise. But now, everything is out in the open: their eyes are dark, their frown pronounced. Their hurt bright under the lights in the office. "Just go." Their voice shakes. "Before you break my heart further."

You sputter, eyes wide as you gaze at them. When E looks at you again, they look exhausted.

"MC, just go." Their throat bobs. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Speechless and not knowing what else to do, you nod. E pushes themself off the desk and leads you to the door, their head down, eyes gazing at their face as they lean against it. They don't even move when you walk by them to exit.

You turn around to say something but E is already closing the door. You're left to watch them close the blinds of their office, successfully shutting you out.

You can feel eyes on you as you do your walk of shame out of the office, leaving behind so many words unsaid.

#ask #anonymous #scenario ask #ROs #emberwood #N's could've been stronger but #N doesn't really talk in the first place during emotional moments #lol #also it could be angstier #but I need to be in a certain mood #ha #I whipped this up pretty quickly but I hope you like it anyway!#queued

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memoriesoftanalorr · 8 days

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Author's note: Wanted to try to write out my W.I.T.C.H. au where's Lilian is Heart of Earth in the comics settings and she's 14 years old.

Lilian was send by Yang Lin to Basiliade. She meet up with Orube and her student Ulima. It was really unusual and wonderful to Lilian there. Young warrior approaching her, she has long indigo hair, her front hair tied in braids and back hair on the loose, in armor and tunic. "Hello, I'm Heart of Earth. And you are?" Lilian was unsure who she's talking to.

"My name is Ulima and this is my mentor Orube." she spoke.

"Welcome to Basiliade." Orube smiled.

"I'm Cornelia's younger sister, I'm bet you're meet up with Guardians of Kandrakar." Lilian replies to her.

"Yes, we used to fight side by side during some missions and we become friends. Come, we need to tell you something." Orube walked towards the temple. Lillian glanced at Ulima.

"Is something terrible happens to this world? I'm not sure I can help you with something."

"I wonder why Kandrakar sends you if you're can't accept the danger of the situation?" Ulima seems to like Lilian but in the same time she thought Lilian wasn't ready for the mission.

"Lilian, Kandrakar sends you because we're need your help and you and Ulima need to learn how to work in the team." Orube started the conversation.

"What we should face together then?" Ulima asked.

"A evil magician and his apprentice. I'm sure you two will be successful during this mission." Orube encourage the girls. "I hope so." Lillian sighed. "Now you need some rest." Orube spoke again. "You should try our food, Heart of Earth." Ulima said to Lillian. "You can call me just Lillian." she laughed. Ulima nodded and then they're walking after Orube.

After they're finished food, Ulima friendly suggested to take a room next to hers. "Thank you. Tell me about yourself please." Lillian asked. "After Ceremony of Great Light, I'm attended Garden of Two Suns and studied ways of the warrior and met Orube. I was get away from my family but I don't feel sad about that because my parents was abusive with me." Ulima said. "Oh, my life is different from yours." Lillian gasped. "And what kind of studying on Earth? I'm read a lot of books and I'm soon will be allowed to the weapon training hall." Ulima spoke. "Sounds cool. I'm reading too. Boys and girls going to school and studying at classes. Kind of boring sometimes." Lillian responses. "It's doesn't sounds boring." Ulima smiled. "Alright, I'm tired now. Let's get a rest." Lillian yawned. "Good night, Lillian." Ulima said. "Good night, Ulima." Lillian smiled and walked inside her room.

To be continued!

#my thoughts #w. i. t. c. h.#w.i.t.c.h.#Lillian Hale #Can't get further #au #w.i.t.c.h comic #w.i.t.c.h. orube

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yamineftis · 1 year

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Tbh so far one of my main gripes with Mandalorian S3, which I do not hate but I'm massively disappointed with, is that it's yet to give me a good reason why Bo Katan should rule a third time aside her being a royal.

Like are they really saying she's the ONLY one who cares about retaking the planet? And that's enough to be the one?.

Like, when she was first reintroduced in the mandalorian as the heiress and then called a princess I thought the series would at least try to challenge this notion through exploring her past mistakes and why she is this way, but nope, you have better seen clone wars and rebels to know she's a well rounded character cuz we ain't explaining shit.

Like when the armorer accepted her in the covert for bathing in the waters and keeping the helmet on?... I just...that's not...how religion works, it's not a series of technicalities, it's about intent and devotion. Look at me in the eye and say that her diving to save Din's ass is the same as that pretty scene of Din reciting the words while baptizing.

Now I always defended the children of the watch and claimed they wouldn't be villains, so I was glad they were accepting of others, but one thing is accepting not everyone thinks like you and another is ignoring your own faith for plot reasons? I absolutely didn't think them not being villains would mean literally 0 conflict nfjajfjs. What happened with the armorer calling Bo a cautionary tale? What happened to "they strayed form the way and we lost our world", give us some tension please 😭.

And we couldn't even get to know how Bo felt about it all, she was just doing as told. How does she feel about joining the very people she scoffed at and called zealots? How did she feel to be wrong about them? Oh no wait she has to lead a war party bc foundling is randomly abducted. And this shows how good of a leader she is, ok you should lead Mandalore again bc you saw a dinosaur....what????.

I liked the idea of Din ruling because it'd be interesting to see him struggling to be something more, but I was ready to let that idea go cuz he didn't really want the dark saber. But after how Bo got it through a cop out, I kinda wish it stayed with Din. The sole fact that Bo can't even convince her nite owls to join her without the dark saber is very telling, and is made worse by the fact that we don't even know why they follow that rule so hard and then scoff at Din for being a "zealot".

I'm aware this all might be misleading and someone else might have to step up, but even if that's the case, the reasoning to get to this point has been just so poor and convenient, it breaks my heart because Bo is such a complex and interesting character, but they haven't explored HER at all, her stepping down would have much more impact that way.

All in all, I think the season has good ideas but they didn't make the characters part of them, just puppets moving along :/ and I'm still not convinced Bo should try to rule /again/.

#the mandalorian #bo katan #din djarin #the armorer #im so frustrated with this season lol #and it's not that it isn't going like I thought #its that it stopped being character centered

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amatuslaudanum · 1 year

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Y'know, I've seen some takes about the Kirkwall Guard, and Aveline specifically, that make me want to tear my (non-existent) hair out. So here goes.

Yes, the previous Kirkwall Guard Captain was corrupt. And yes, Aveline replaces him, and not all that much changes in terms of what the Guard is able to do in Kirkwall. Why, you ask? Well...

There's reasons beyond personal greed why a guard captain would choose to accept bribes from criminals. Have you ever truly looked at the guard barracks, like really looked? "Not much room in the barracks, but there's nowhere I'd rather be", is Aveline's glowing recommendation of it. There's the Captain's office, the main room with the roster, a small mess hall, a room with a few bunk beds to rest in between shifts, and another room that I can't quite recall the function of right now.

Considering this, I'd imagine there's... maybe a few dozen guards in total serving the whole city of Kirkwall. In contrast, the criminal underbelly has multiple groups with dozens of members each, some with mages, others with assassins and poisons and traps. On the other hand, what does the guard have? A bunch of people in probably not very good armor, wielding not very good weapons, and most likely not having much ability for combat, either.

Aveline is an exception. She is a PC in the small pond of NPCs that makes up the Kirkwall Guard, and she knows it. She's absolutely willing to put herself in danger and accompany Hawke on missions to help protect the city. But she can't in good conscience send a dozen people to their certain deaths - because that's definitely what would happen if she sent a group of guards to deal with, for example, the various groups of criminals operating after dark in the city. Imagine trying to play a d&d campaign, but all the players have to use the basic Guard NPC statblock, and they're up against bandits, bandit captains, assassins, mages... You can imagine how that goes.

So no, I don't think Aveline is just as corrupt as the Captain before her. And in fact, I don't even blame the previous Captain for taking bribes - there really wasn't much else he could do, and hey, maybe if he'd cared more about his people, he could've used that bribe money to get them some better gear, and then maybe they could've had a chance against some of the criminal groups?

Blaming the state Kirkwall is in on Aveline's leadership of the guard is like blaming... Well, I'm bad at metaphors or analogies, but what I want to say is it doesn't make sense. The guards simply do not have the capacity to deal with the big threats in Kirkwall. That's what mercenaries are for, that's literally why they exist in the world. If guards could take care of everything, then why would anyone even hire mercenaries for protection, or for dealing with dangerous monsters or other threats to their wellbeing?

Anyway tl;dr Aveline and the Kirkwall Guard is not to blame for the criminals basically running Kirkwall. If you want to blame anyone, blame the city leadership which doesn't even try to get the Guard in better shape, and rarely if ever hires outside help.

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #da2 #aveline vallen #this has been your friendly neighborhood essay about dragon age 2 in the year of our maker 2022 #because apparently I can't just let things go when they're about my special interest

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gglitchshit · 7 months

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OC questions: 2, 10, 11, 22, 24, 39 👀💖

OC Questions: Accepting! Once again. Very slow.

Thank youuuu mwah mwah. <33333

2.) Do you have a personal favourite among your OCs?

Whoever I'm currently working on but also Lucien. But also whoever I'm working on which can change daily. :')

But Lucien is definitely the only OC of mine I'm looking to get multiple physical merch of so. That says something. He means the world to me.❤️

10.) Introduce an OC with a complicated design?

Any of my GW2 characters LMAO. THOSE ARMORS! 😩 Hmm, but also maybe Dawn? I'm not good at designing clothes but she wears gothic lolita fashion and that's....yeah that can be quite complicated to draw properly.

11.) Is there any OC of yours you could describe as a “sunshine”?

Riónnah, she literally only wants to help other people and the world.❤️ Surprising from me, I know, I know. (Thank you GW2 for finally making me create good guys dfgfddf)

22.) Is there any OC of yours people tend to mischaracterize? If yes, how?

Hhhh tbh I don't want to dunk on people. If anyone mischaracterizes any of my OCs, the reason is me and it's my fault's only. Like for example Lucien's early representation by me wasn't the best lol. I remember memeing him into uwu nya but even back then he was already a heinous criminal DJKFHDJK.

24.) If you could meet one OC of yours, who would it be and why?

REIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII I'VE BEEN wanting this ever since I made her lol. Greatest dream/fantasy of all time etc etc. We would Kiss and get Married. Cringefail I know. Ok bye.

39.) Introduce any character you want

This is the part of this ask which halted my progress for so long so I think I'm just going to ignore this, sorry. 😭I really don't know who to introduce, as everyone has been already introduced in one way or another and I just. Can't choose one (1) character to shine the spotlight on. :(

#asks #my ocs #<3333333 kissing youkissing you etc

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votestaynight · 1 year

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15th day "Utopia" (scene 4)

How should I spend the remaining hours? I thought about it, but this is where I ended up.

"This place does not change. I like the quiet of the living room, but this place suits me better."

"Yeah. You like to sit Japanese-style even though you're a knight, and the shinai looked pretty good on you as well. It might have been fun having a match with armors on."

"Armor? You should have said so. I could have worn my armor, and you could have put pads on. …We really should have done that. If you had mentioned it earlier, I could have fought you more seriously."

"Uh…" Saber is so cute even when she's annoyed. She's cute, but her words are pretty scary.

"Are you serious about being serious? I wouldn't be able to get up for a week if we did that."

"No, that is not true. You underestimate yourself. You have really improved these past few days. It might even be possible for you to take a match from me." "Really?"

Even if that's flattery, I'm really happy. I really respect Saber when it comes to swords. Being able to beat her even once is like being accepted by her.

"For real…? So, I could even win a match against you if chance favored me…?" "Yes. You have vastly improved. You can be proud of that, and I am really happy about it as well."

"―――――" Saber replies with a full smile. …That expression makes my determination vanish. After this. We won't be able to come back. If we can just run away instead of going into an unwinnable battle――

"Shirou? Why have you stopped? …Does your wound hurt? If that is the case, please rest in your room and――" "――No, I'm fine now. Nothing hurts anymore."

――I cut off all hesitations. I can't run away, and I really don't want our final time together to be like this.

"Hey Saber. Since we're here, do you want to spar lightly? Not a match, but more like playing around." I hide my emotions and bluff as much as I can.

"All right. Then I shall fight you using my style. You can fight me in your style as well."

She must have understood my intentions as she gladly accepts my idea. …Yes. It's more like us to be fighting than talking.

For a short while, we forget about everything and feel each other's shinai.

――The moon is distant. The clouds have cleared and the darkness has a dim blue glow. Daybreak is close. The long night is about to end.

――This is the final moment. Going through the night, Saber and I have reached our final destination.

"――Shirou, this is…" Saber sounds tense. I feel the same way. As I nod, I can feel sweat dripping down my neck.

…The mountain feels like one big living thing. The wind coming down from the mountain gate is warm, and the shaking trees seem like breathing lungs. Chills and pressure assail me every time I take a step. No――the air really is thick and wet.

"…Mana is dense here. This is just like ten years ago. I expect…" …The summoning of the Holy Grail has begun or it's already over. Either way, that must mean that Lancer has fallen to Gilgamesh.

"――I'm going to make sure, Saber. After we reach the top, all that's left is to fight. You take care of Gilgamesh, so I'll take care of his Master――Kotomine. We won't assist each other. …We just have to beat one of our opponents."

"Yes. I will concentrate on my own fight this time. And Kotomine is an enemy you must defeat." "…Yeah. Leave him to me. You too Saber. Don't let that guy beat you."

"…Yes. I will swear on my pride that he will not defeat me. Not as a Servant, but as a heroic spirit, I cannot allow him to beat me."

Saber says so strongly without hesitation or distress. So there's nothing more to say. We will go to battle and determine the winner as the last remaining Masters. ――Even if in the process… If one of us dies, the other need only defeat their enemy.

Even if I die, if Saber beats Gilgamesh, Kotomine won't be able to obtain the Holy Grail. At the same time, even if Saber dies――if I defeat Kotomine, Gilgamesh won't be able to stay in this world. …So there's no need to help each other. Our battles have already gone their separate ways.

Red light fills the mountaintop. The blowing wind is getting stronger and it seems the source of it is that light――coming from the back of the grounds. The red phosphorescence scatters on the wind, and the grounds is too bright for nighttime.

Stagnant air filled with the presence of death. ―――――This is… Like the fire back then.

"―――――" But it isn't like that. Within all this red light, something is about to emerge.

…From the back of the building. A black darkness oozing in the bright red. If this clearing is like a clear lake, that mud is like an oil spill.

"――You are finally here. I have been waiting for you, Saber." He is there, within all the rich colors. Ignoring the blood red and the death-stained black. The Servant clad in gold is waiting for us――no, for Saber in the middle of this place.

"And the time is about right. The Holy Grail has finally moved into action and the void has just opened. This curse is the contents of the Holy Grail, the Third Element which keeps us Servants in this world. ――This is what you splashed me with ten years ago."

Gilgamesh is only looking at Saber. It goes the same for Saber. She takes a step forward and points her sword at the knight in front of her.

"――That is good spirit. That strong spirit, even though you know you cannot defeat me. It is indeed suitable to end this party, but――"

"I do not want any intrusions. You lowlife, disappear right now if you want to see Kotomine. He is waiting for you at the altar."

"――!" Kotomine is waiting.

…I glance at Saber. She nods while looking at Gilgamesh. Her figure tells me… That she is wishing me her best.

――I turn around. The one I need to face isn't here. Behind me. As I run, I hear the battle start.

At the back of the building. Behind the main temple is a large lake. Untouched by humans, the lake is holy as if a dragon king lives in it. The clear blue water is pure and the lake isn't even murky.

But that's all in the past. The lake now has none of these characteristics. The red light is in front of my eyes. And the sea of black tar. ――And――

The "void" created in the air and the girl presented as a sacrifice.

"――Koto… mine…!" My calm mind instantly goes over the limit. I stop and glare at my enemy.

"Welcome, Emiya Shirou. The last surviving Master." He smiles sarcastically and opens his arms to welcome me. …This is the site of our battle. This is the altar of the summoning in this Holy Grail War.

"――Let Ilya down. I'll beat you up after that." I glare at Kotomine. …There's about ten meters between us. The fight will begin if I move another step. …Once the fight starts, I'll have to run straight at him and stab him in the chest. But before that, I have to do something about Ilya――

"Hey. Didn't you hear me? I told you to let Ilya down. What's so fun about torturing a kid?"

"I understand your feelings, but I cannot do that. The Holy Grail has appeared, but the void is yet unstable. My wish will not come true unless she bears this until she dies." Until she dies――then Ilya is still alive…!

"…I see. If you have no intention of letting her down, I'll just have to use force. I'll stop your wish――that black mud, right now."

"…Oh. So this must appear to be my wish to you. ――As expected from the son of Kiritsugu. I did not expect two generations to make the same mistake." "Wh――at?"

"There is no reason to explain things to someone who does not understand the Holy Grail. You may fulfill your role as the last Master with that misunderstanding." "――!"

I jump. There's about ten meters between us. Keeping that distance, I jump sideways. "―――――" This is the result of my instincts of not wanting to die… …Surpassing my desire to kill him.

"――!" I roll sideways onto the ground. I stop instantly and look up.

"That's――!" I look at the place I was running over. A sound of burning. The burning sound is coming from the black mud, stretching out from the lake. …It's like a black carpet. The mud slashed like a whip, attacking me as I went after Kotomine, and left a mark on the ground.

"I forgot to tell you, but you are already within my range. And to add, this thing is sensitive to living beings. ――I do not mind you moving, but you will die if you move carelessly."

"――!" I jump to avoid the black mud mercilessly attacking me. Screw moving carelessly. He's ready to kill me…!

"Damn――you fake priest…!" I stand up, still keeping watch over the lake. …The distance to Kotomine hasn't changed. That means this ten meters is as near as he wants me to get. …But that tentacle of mud stretches without limit. It will come after me if he wants it to, and I'm sure there are more than one――

"Oh, so you are ready to fight. That pleases me. I could not kill you if you were to run away, but there will be no problem if you attack me. I serve God, so I cannot kill someone who is pleading for their life."

…The tentacle whips out. The quivering mud coming from the lake is like a black snake.

"―――――" …I bite my lip. This is the worst situation as I thought. The number of snakes continues to increase without end. I don't know how long I can survive, let alone how I can get close to him――

"It is only natural for you to be unable to win. There is a large difference in the years we have lived. It is a difference you cannot overcome unless you have something major."

The priest raises his hands. He glares at the heavens as if he is conducting an orchestra.

"――Put your life on the line. You might be able to reach me if you do so―――!"

He releases the black snakes.

"Guh――!" I kick away the mucus around my ankle. My clothes are burnt away and my skin is exposed.

"――Guh, uh――!" I jump back from the striking tentacle. I can't feel my right ankle and I can't even tell if it's there, but I jump into the open field in front of me.

"Ha――Haa, ha, ah――!" I check my body as I roll. Ankle. All right, it's still there. I just can't feel it. If it's there, I should be able to run.

"Ah――haa, haa, ah――!" I jump in a different direction again to avoid the striking mud. I hear a splashing sound right next to me. The smell of the ground burning forces my dizzy head awake and――

"――!!!!!!" Fire runs up my back. "Ha, guh, guh――!" I shake it off and jump to an empty space. That must have been the end of this attack. The black mud that was surrounding me has disappeared from view for now――

"Ha――aa…Ah." …I bite my lip. I ran so much, but in the end… I'm pushed back to here again.

"Ha―――― haa, haa, ha――" I breathe hard and look at him so as not to lose in spirit. …Kotomine has not moved at all. He has just watched me run around.

"Haa… haa, haa, haa, haa――" …No matter how hard I breathe, my heart won't calm down. It's saying it's at its limits and it needs rest. It's about to go out on its own if I don't let it rest.

"Kuh――ha, haa, ha, ah――" I can't do anything. I can't get near Kotomine nor get through that black mud. …I'm not going to hold back on using the 'projection' magic.

If I can't move forward, I can reproduce Saber's sword again. It'll surely be able to slice through that black mud and I can go straight for Kotomine.

"Hm? Is that all? Tell me if you have given up." The instant he speaks…[r] "Haa――ah, ha――!?" Lots of mud comes splashing toward me, telling me I cannot let myself stop.

"Kuh――!" I raise myself and barely dodge the mud. …The mud itself isn't too bad. It's slow compared to Saber's shinai, and it only comes where it's aimed, so it's easy to dodge.

But that's only true when there's only one of them. I can't deal with tens of mud attacks, the ones that come from behind me the instant I dodge them. As a result, I can only move around. Even then, mud covers me bit by bit.

"Guh, damn――!" There's no time to rest. I can't reproduce a sword like this. "Projection" magic tracing a weapon from the beginning requires at least one minute of concentration. If I show such an opening, I'll be melted down to my bones.

"Haa――ha, ha, ha, ah――!" The parts of my body covered with mud have lost sensation. The only good thing is that I don't feel any pain, but I won't know if I'm dead or not when that mud covers my whole body. I'm finished when that happens, and most of all――I'll have melted away by then.

"Haa――ha, ha, ha, ah――!" For now, all I can do is run. If there's any chance of getting near him, it'll be when I do something about this mud―― "Ow――damn, oh――!?"

"―――――!" I-I can't believe it…! Who on earth would trip at a time like this!?

"―――――" Kotomine looks down at me like trash. He points his finger at me, and many snakes show their veins.

"…!" I get up. I try to get up, but fall again. "――Eh?"

I fall. I fall. The snakes are coming.

But I still fall. Why? Why? Why? Black mud comes for my neck. Why? Oh, I see why. My right ankle is unbelievably black――

"――Ah." Black mud rains down. It spills onto my body like a rainstorm, melts it, and drowns my despair――

TIGER DOJO

Taiga: Not having a weapon when it's needed. This is the place to help such people, the Tiger Dojo. Well. It is the prevailing view that the outcome of battle is decided before it even starts. What does it mean, student!?

Ilya: Um, I guess you shouldn't start a fight until you have a weapon or a plan?

Taiga: Yes! The enemy is the unfair Servant that prepared the strongest force with his money. So you should at least prepare one weapon that lets you turn things around.

Ilya: Then Taiga, are you saying you should restart from the night before the fight and prepare a new weapon? What can you do in such a short time?

Taiga: You can do this! Saber-chan originally had three Noble Phantasms. You should be able to do something if you prepare the last one.

Ilya: I see. You just have to give it back to her, right?

Taiga: Yup. Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's. It's something too valuable to lose, but you have to give back what you found.

Ilya: Oh, you said something good, by your standards. I guess you're a school teacher even if you're a bad one at that.

Taiga: Ahahahaha! Praise me, praise me!

Ilya: Yeah, yeah. Then while Taiga is in a good mood, we will make a major announcement. This corner has continued modestly as a side to the main story, but this is the final episode! We will use a different outlook and start "Tiger Dojo Part II: Taiga One Hundred Million Yen Debt"!! We're going to move the setting to my castle and update our standing pics, music, and even hardware! Production budgets will double and it will be so rich that you won't even think this is a bonus corner!

Taiga: Gahahaha, so many wonderful things! I don't quite understand, but is it like getting a totally new graphic designer!?

Ilya: That's right, master! We will be freed from this rough art! Osu!

Taiga: Marvelous! In that case, let us get away from this dojo right away! Listen, everyone. The key to the second route is on the third day! Once you see an ending, there should be a choice that wasn't there before on the third night. Then hit, hit, hit! Use whatever you can including your Command Spell to stop the raging lion!

Ilya: That's right. Then everyone, I'll be waiting for you in the renewed Tiger Dojo!

ARIA CORNER

Well folks, you managed to get the last Dead End on this route! Well done, everybody. Worth noting that Taiga's advice about starting the second route has technically been rendered false by our format - the choice to get on route two was there, since I oh-so-generously kept all the choices open. Anyways, have fun with the next couple scenes, all 13 of you!

#votestaynight #fate #fate stay/night #fate route #DEAD END

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that-angry-noldo · 2 years

Text

We've Chosen Ourselves

[Finrod and Amarie after Finrod's reembodiement in Valinor.]

The hardest thing one needed to adapt to in Valinor was ethernal, surreal peace.

There was no threat.

No threat, Finrod reminded himself as the bird he didn't notice flapped its wings and took off for the sky. No threat. No enemy. No need to run, to make sure everybody's safe, to accept refugees and put on enchanted armor.

It was making him sick, and Finrod wished - in a twisted, desperate way - he stayed dead.

Valinor didn't need him.

It didn't need his knowledge or wisdom or memories. It didn't need his help. It didn't...

It continued spinning even though the world around it was burning to ashes. It didn't care.

And Finrod wanted to scream and to cry and to rip it apart, to show them blood, and flames, and death; but he only gritted his teeth and pursed his lips.

Valinor wasn't Beleriand.

There was no Enemy.

There was no threat, he reminded himself, hearing Amarie's footsteps, crunching leaves and startled birds announcing her presence.

He tried not to look at her, not to look at her golden braid and calm blue eyes and gentle hands; he could not look at her. Not without being reminded of how far he'd fallen. How his hands were elbows deep in blood, his skin was reminiscent of smokes and how his own hair was cut short - how every time looking in mirror he saw not himself, but wolves and bats and chains and fires.

"Why did you came?" he breathed, and he didn't care that his words sound harsh and bitter.

Maybe, if he tries, he can push her away just enough for her to see what... creature she cares for.

Amarie didn't stop. She went behing him, settling the basket with food on the outdoor table.

"I came to visit," she finally shrugged, looking straight at him. "Someone has to make sure you don't starve yourself to second death."

"I am perfectly capable of looking after myself, thank you very much," he grunted and rested his cheen on his knees, tracing the forest with indifferent eyes.

"You haven't moved since yesterday, Finde."

That's true, Finrod admitted, even though Amarie's voice was far too soft for his likening. He settled on silence, hoping it's enough to keep her away. She just sighed.

Sometimes, Finrod wonders why was he so reluctant to let her near. Sometimes, he remembers all to well the days they spent together, the jokes they shared, the way he held her hand. Sometimes, all he knows is cold face of her brother, sharply informing that she won't be joining him.

Maybe it's for better, Finrod thought. Maybe it's good she didn't have to experience the cold of Helcaraxe and the heat of Bragollach.

"... you weren't listening, were you."

Sorry, the old Finrod wants to say. I didn't mean to. Go again?

The current Finrod can't bring himself to care.

Still, he tilted his head a bit, just enough for Amarie to sigh and drop the subject.

"Whatever. You can see what I brought later."

It's probably the usual, Finrod thought, and guilt tangled in his stomach. She always put berries in for him; berries which she picked herself and which Finrod didn't dare to touch.

"You- you really don't have to do it," he blurted. "It's- not worth it. Not worth the trouble."

"Getting you food isn't trouble."

"Not- not the food. The berries."

The berries, she frowned. Then, she sighed. Again.

It's funny. He could probably make a game out of it. How many times can he make Amarie sigh during a conversation? Gods, she was probably tired.

"You loved them, when we were younger."

"Ah," he frowned, trying to remember. "I- I guess I still do."

"Then I don't see a problem."

"It's- unnecessary."

Amarie sighed again. It wasn't a tired sigh, it was an "Eru give me strenght or I'm punching the idiot in the face" sigh.

"Findarato Ingoldo," her voice was - finally - cold. "You better think ten times before speaking or I swear to God."

"Don't swear. Nothing good comes from swearing."

"I absolutely hate you, Finde. Actually, I despise you."

And oh, it was supposed to be a joke, but her tone held another layer - a layer Amarie herself didn't want to recognize. Sorrow. Hurt.

Resignation.

"I'm sorry," Finrod whispered.

Amarie inhaled, clerly wanting to protest, but then pursed her lips.

"Me too."

She sat next to Finrod, and for a moment it was only him, her and autumn forest. For a moment, he could pretend they were far away, far ago, and they joked and held hands and her eyes were the most beautiful things he could imagine.

But pretending wasn't going to lead him anywhere. And so he was back in the present, and the wind was cold and his chest ached with phantom pain where the werewolf's claws left their marks.

"I'm sorry," he repeated quietly. "I'm not the Finrod I was anymore."

"And I stopped being the Amarie you knew long ago," she shrugged. "And your father isn't the same Arafinwe he was before the Darkening. We all changed."

And somehow, it made it worse, and he didn't know why. Maybe because in Beleriand he convinced himself that those who stayed in Aman chose better fate. Fate without pain and fear. He convinced himself that Amarie still laughed and Father was still smiling broadly, holding Mother close.

"Change," he choked. "In Beleriand - the first thing you get used to is how fast it all changes. How it takes less time for leaves to go yellow. How the clouds seem to always hurry. How..." - how fast the faces of the most loved ones fade and how they hold your hand on their deathbed, their hair gray and their eyes weary - "How stability is but an illusion," - how little it takes to set the world aflame. "I... I guess I didn't think about change here."

"Noone did," she said, and her eyes are looking past the trees, past the skies, peeking in the time that was but a memory. "We didn't need to."

"I'm sorry," he repeated stubbornly.

"For what?"

For clinging to you, he thought. For remembering you in dreams. For looking Artanis in the eyes and feeling that cursed longing, the one I should've abandoned all those years ago.

For dooming you and me.

But he just inhaled and said, "I missed you."

Amarie went still. Her lips were pused in the tin line. Finrod was sure he didn't look better himself.

"I-"

She stopped, inhaled, closed her eyes.

"I. I missed you too. I missed you so goddamn much," she finaly hissed, trying to hold back tears. "Knowing that- you won't come back. And I stayed behind."

"You- you didn't."

"I did."

"I left you."

"... you did," she whispered and turned away. "I stayed behing and you left without me. It would be natural if we just forgot about eachother, wouldn't it? It would hurt, of course, but we've chosen our fates. But I-"

"-couldn't," Finrod whispered instead of her.

"... couldn't."

"Do you think we can now?"

Amarie laughed, but it was hurt and tired.

"We're both broken," she choked. "We both were clay pots, but now we're nothing but scattered shards."

Finrod turned to her, meeting her eyes.

She was crying. He felt tears streaming down his face.

"Do you think we're beyond repairing?"

She shook her head, and it almost made her cry more.

"Then we'll pick up the shards and try to glue them together," he said.

And it will be hard, and there will be times when they would sit like that again, wondering if they're really beyond repair; but then he will hold his hand out, and she will take it,

and the sun will set off for it's journey once again, just barely touching them with its rays.

#lads i feel like this is the longest fic i posted on this hell of a site #silmarillion #tolkien #finrod #finrod felagund #findarato ingoldo artafinde finrod felagund #amarie #finrod×amarie #lay of leithian #Valinor #they are ✨communicating✨#no beta i die like i've met turin turambar #like. I love their relationship so much #also it's like 3am. There's probably ton of typos and english isn't my first language. You've been warned

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lucky-clover-gazette · 2 years

Text

we interrupt this meal prep for interdimensional shenanigans

i can't even say this one is prompt-based, because the original prompt was like, "shadow and vio eat food!" which isn't WRONG, but i'm 99.9999% sure this fic was not the desired outcome.

we interrupt this meal prep for interdimensional shenanigans

(2559 words, general audiences, crackfic/shitpost/whatever, implied shadow x vio)

Link scrutinizes everything—every memory, every regret, every challenge laid before him by the goddess Hylia herself. He has journals full of notes and recollections, quests he has no reason to accept other than a genuine desire to connect with the world around him. He’s endlessly curious. He leaves no stone unturned.

Until tonight, that is… because Link has just reached his fucking limit.

read the full thing on ao3 or under the cut:

It’s nearly dusk when Link arrives at Riverside Stable.

He’s spent a long, grueling day fighting Guardians on Hyrule Field, hoping to net as many Giant Ancient Cores as possible before the next Blood Moon. If his mental math is correct, tonight Calamity Ganon will yet again revive every single monster on the map, undoing all the hard work he’s done to rid Hyrule of evil. That, Link can accept—just as well as he can accept anything that’s happened to the world in the past century, anyway—but the heightened nighttime spawn rate of those cursed Stal enemies is simply intolerable.

On nights like this, Link always tries his best to find shelter, or at least a campfire to help him pass the time. The upside of a stable or town is that Link can cook during the Blood Moon, which he’s discovered can sometimes give his meals random status buffs. He treasures the opportunity to learn how freshly foraged ingredients interact, resulting in unique dishes and the occasional dubious food. Cooking is one of the first things Link re-learned to do after his restorative slumber, and still remains his very favorite.

Earlier on in his travels, it would have been difficult for Link to tell each of Hyrule’s stables apart. From a distance they all look the same, offering identical services and ready-to-use cooking pots, never too far from a shrine for fast-traveling convenience. At this point, however, Link has taken detailed physical and mental notes on each location. It’s impossible not to get to know these places when you’re scouring the map for 900 Korok seeds and random townspeople with names using the suffix “-son.”

Riverside Stable is one of the least distinguishable of the bunch, located by Hylia River between Hyrule Field and West Necluda. Link’s first encounter with the place was during his search for Hestu, who was en route at the time to his home in the Korok forest. Beside the stable is the Wahgo Katta Shrine, obviously already completed, and a docked raft just asking to be used.

As the sun sets over the river, Link takes a picture of two ducks with his Sheikah Slate. He’s not sure why he does this—his Compendium is complete—but these days he’s just trying to let himself exist, however he pleases.

There are only a few more things he needs to do before he can return to Hyrule Castle and destroy Calamity Ganon for good. His current objective is to acquire the complete Ancient Armor set from Cherry at the Akkala Tech Lab, hence the Guardian farming. In retrospect, he really wishes he hadn’t wasted his stockpile of ancient screws and gears trying to enhance his seafood paella.

“Link! Hey!”

Beedle waves at the approaching hero from the front of the stable, sitting criss-cross on the ground with his merchant’s table unfolded. For some reason, this strange man always seems to be exactly where he’s needed.

“Wow!” Beedle exclaims as Link stands at attention, hands on his hips. “We meet again! It seems that sharing space is our destiny.”

Link nods, because that’s really the only way he can imagine responding to the statement.

“What are you looking for? Or are you selling?”

Link looks up at the sky and then down at the stable, bathed in the warm orange color of the setting sun. He could always just call it a night now, but it doesn’t look like there will be rain, and he’s been holding onto some hearty durians from his recent travels to Faron…

Link buys three tireless frogs and Beedle’s meager stock of arrows, and then sells him a few opals to make up for rupees spent. He does this—like most things—without a word, pointing to his desired purchases on the sheet Beetle provides.

“Thank you very much! Hope to see you again soon!”

He probably will, and they both know this.

Link walks past Ember in the stable window to the small outdoor area Riverside has to offer. Nothing special here—a pre-lit cooking pot, wooden benches, supply crates and a spare pot lid. Three horses enjoy their hay in the outdoor stables and Link tries not to think about the last time and place he saw his own. They’re not dead, he promises, but just… maybe on a cliff, somewhere. He’ll find them. It’s fine.

It’s turning dark now, and Link gets the easiest recipes out of the way first. Five hearty durians, five hearty durians, five hearty durians. Boring but extremely effective. Sneaky fried wild greens for his next trip to the Yiga hideout, stamina elixir with the frogs purchased from Beedle. Spicy peppers, the scent so strong that Link’s sinuses sting. He considers cooking a few raw whole birds, but then remembers to hold onto them for the strange wolf who occasionally accompanies him on his travels. Monster cake, just for fun, purple fumes rising from the pot as it sets.

He’ll probably end up preparing more than a dozen dishes tonight. Maybe it’s not the case for an average Hylian, but for Link, meal prep is essential. He realized pretty early on in his adventures that he could keep his meals fresh by programming the Sheikah Slate to automatically Stasis them until needed. That probably wasn’t Zelda or the Sheikah’s intention with the rune, but it has kept him alive in more lynel fights than he can count.

He’d love more stamina-boosting dishes but is low on the necessary supplies. But there, in the river, a few staminoka bass catch his eye. He draws his bow, shock-arrows the water, and watches his quarry rise to the surface. He then uses Magnesis on the Master Sword to spear the fish like a kebab and slide them into the pot, listening to their satisfying sizzle against the cast iron surface.

Link can see the Blood Moon rising in the sky, as well as the purple-red particles of malice rising from the ground. Yet again he’s reminded of how deeply Calamity Ganon has marred this world—and how, despite this, the world persists.

He’s heard of many unexplained things happening during the Blood Moon, far beyond the regeneration of monsters and forageable materials. A woman in Hateno told him she once saw herself, with red eyes that pierced through the darkness, watching her from the field outside her home. Riju said that her bedroom mirror sometimes acts strangely during the Blood Moon, her reflection lost to a pitch-black void. Even Link himself has witnessed strange disappearances and reappearances, entire monsters and buildings fading in and out of existence, especially when he’s windbombing in a rush to find shelter.

“Hey, you!” Link turns his head to face Gotter, a stablehand he’s helped at least once, probably, with something or other. “You’re the guy who got me the recipes from Hyrule Castle! And you drew me a map! Are you cooking now?”

Link looks from Gotter, to the lit cooking pot full of simmering seafood, and back to Gotter.

“Neat,” Gotter says, taking a deep whiff. “You know, it’s funny…”

He rambles on as Link considers his next ingredients. He has a lot of Goron spice at the moment, that might work. On the other hand, he’s pretty sure there’s someone near Rito Village who’s waiting on a delivery of the stuff. He’d have to consult his notes to be sure.

“I said, it’s funny,” Gotter clears his throat and Link shrugs in apology. “I thought I just saw you, over by the water, but it looks like you’ve been cooking here for quite a while.”

This intrigues Link. Gotter looks him up and down, which isn’t an irregular occurrence with Hyrule’s denizens but makes him uncomfortable all the same.

“Did you change your clothes?” Gotter asks, eyebrows knitted. “I could have sworn you were wearing purple.”

Link steps away from the cooking pot and juts his chin towards the water behind the stables. Gotter nods. “Yeah, over there. By the dock.”

Link scarfs down his recently-prepared stealthy greens and leaves the rest of the night’s meals and ingredients by the fire, shushing Gotter as he sneaks towards the horse stables. From his kneeling position, he can indeed see the form of a Hylian seated on the dock, about his height and build. The shape of the stranger’s hair is similar to Link’s, as well, long and choppy and flowing in the breeze. Link watches as the stranger ties up his hair and opens a book, jotting something down as he watches the river rush by. The blood moon is certainly bright enough to illuminate the pages.

Slowly as he can, Link crouch-hops behind the stable. He presses himself up against the canvas tent as he tries to get a better look, hiding behind a wooden mop taller than he is standing.

“—can’t believe the ritual worked, especially given what that mirror has been already through—”

The man speaks, quietly but discernibly, despite his lack of company. This is the greatest surprise yet; not only does this ‘Link’ speak at all, but his voice is also unfamiliar. Link knows what his voice sounds like, even if he doesn’t often use it. He still says “hyah” probably at least thirty times a day.

This person speaks in full sentences, his voice more controlled than Link’s own. He has this academic affect, reminding Link of Zelda when she gushes about her scientific fascinations.

“—don’t see why we can’t pet the dogs—”

Link’s expression sours. A… second voice? A second person? His eyes strain to see in the dark, and sure enough, there is another person seated on the dock. His form is less distinguishable, but the impression of his mangled-looking hat is lined with red moonlight. Glancing downwards, he can now also see that the two people are holding hands.

Link can’t even remember the last time he was touched, outside of battle and armor upgrades.

“How long do we have?” the shadowy figure asks the young man with the book.

“I think until morning. When the moon goes, so do we.”

“No one’s going to believe that we did this. I can’t believe we did this. Look at this world, Vio, it’s insane!”

Vio, Link thinks with relief. See? Completely different person.

“I’m curious about Calamity Ganon,” the man named Vio says. Link’s blood goes cold. “Is he the same as ours?”

“Not our problem. You hungry? I’m super hungry.”

“Actually, yes. The book did mention the ritual having that effect.”

Link brings his hand to his head, which immediately proves to be a mistake. The mop clatters loudly onto the ground and draws the attention of both young men. While one appears to have a normal face, the other’s features are eclipsed by piercing red eyes.

“So that’s why we were sent here,” says the cursed creature, elbowing the man beside him. With the moonlight on their faces, they admittedly both bear some resemblance to Hylia’s chosen champion. “I thought he’d just look like Green, but he’s got a whole turquoise thing going on with the tunic.”

Link’s mouth hangs open. He makes some kind of ugly “guh” sound and jumps to his feet, holding the mop in an offensive position. After a second’s consideration he swaps it out for the Master Sword, which still vaguely smells of fish.

“Hey, calm down,” Vio says, raising both his hands. “You… you’re probably tired, aren’t you? Long day?”

Link is still as a statue and just as silent.

“You’re imagining this,” Vio continues, locking eyes with the shadow and turning back to Link. “That’s… that’s what happens during the Blood Moon, right? And—hey!—something smells good, you’ve been cooking!”

“Seriously, that does smell good,” the shadow mutters, more to Vio than to Link.

“I wonder if you’ve used any questionable ingredients, lately? Like monster extract? I’ve read that the cooking fumes from that stuff can cause some intense hallucinations.”

“I’ve, uh, read that too.”

Link looks from one person to another, still deeply uncomfortable with the entire situation.

“Go get some rest,” says Vio with a smile. “I’m sure you’ll have a clearer head in the morning. Cool sword, by the way.”

Link holds it tight to his chest and the shadow bursts out laughing. Vio elbows him and he stops at once.

Maybe they’re right about the monster extract, Link tries to convince himself. Who knows where Kilton got it?

He’s been through a lot since awakening in the Shrine of Resurrection. He’s seen ghosts of kings, monsters rising from the dead, giant divine beasts and flying elemental dragons. He’s done tactical drag and liked it. He’s become a homeowner. He’s built a town from the ground up.

Until tonight, that is… because Link has just reached his fucking limit.

He turns on his heel and retreats inside the stable, praying to the Champions, Zelda, and Hylia herself for sanity when he wakes.

━━

The sun has risen and the imposters are gone.

Link stretches his arms above his head and waves to Beetle as he exits the tent. Before he can depart from the stable entirely, however, he’s intercepted by a familiar face.

“Hey,” Gotter says, wringing his hands. “I just want to apologize for anything I might have told you last night. I was… well, I had found some barrels in the Hyrule Castle cellars last week, using that map you gave me. Brought ‘em back here, decided to give it a shot to celebrate the Blood Moon. It tasted kind of like root beer, but I don’t think it was just root beer, if you know what I mean. Do you know what I mean?”

Link gestures a tentative so-so. Gotter rubs the back of his neck.

“But, uh, point is, I don’t think I was in my right mind last night. So sorry, if I said anything weird.”

Link is beyond relieved as he nods his understanding. Last night was fine. He arrived at the stable, did some cooking, and then went to sleep.

His inventory is light, though, for the day after meal prep. Oh, right—he left his food by the cooking pot when he got distracted by the… whatever it was. Link could get distracted by a mushroom, or a cricket, or a stick, so it wasn’t too hard to believe.

But he should definitely collect his food before heading back to Hyrule Field. He’s pretty good at shield-parrying lasers, but there’s always that one time in a dozen where he fumbles the timing.

Outside Riverside Stable, the fire is still lit. The horses still eat hay, the ducks still swim, the pot lid still rests against a storage crate. The river still runs in the correct direction and the sun still shines in the sky.

But Link’s food—meals, ingredients, all of it—is completely gone.

The only thing left is a handwritten note, secured beneath an impromptu paperweight on one of the wooden stools. Link snatches the note and narrows his eyes, trying to interpret the overly elaborate cursive script:

Thanks for breakfast! Good luck with Ganon!

- V&S

#tagging this is going to be a mess #my writing #fs #four swords #four swords manga #vio link #shadow link #vidow #vio x shadow #botw #breath of the wild

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tsuki-sennin · 1 year

Text

The biggest boy of all Jamato! Vs! The two big boy Riders!

...I uh... can't really come up with an intro today, I'm a little preoccupied.

Spoilers, I guess...

-The lying-ass sparrow! He's gone!

-Punkjack! I missed you!

-"Eh, well... your grandpa helped pay for all this, sooooo... we might not kill you."

-Did he miss Ace? :3

-Hot damn, Duncan's got strength.

-"Blardy blardy blar... Hahahahhaa... Nobody's smart but me~!" type energy.

-If you get that reference, I give you a kiss (platonically).

-"Archimedel~! Sweetie~! How are you today~?"

-Caught you at a bad time?

-Kamen Rider Goots.

-"Backstabbed again, little lady?"

-Fucker deserved it.

-Ohhhhhh right, Sara doesn't know.

-"So like... are you gonna kill me too?"

-Guess Boss Man Suel has a jorb for you.

-Grand End!

-Where we're all gonna fucking die.

-"So like, you wanna deal with Beroba for me? I have lunch with Samas at 2 PM."

-Oh thanks, Buffa.

-PUNKJACK JUMPSCARE

-He's helping us? :3

-I can get behind this team-up more.

-Oh, thanks Niram.

-I suppose we're piling up all the big final all-or-nothing gambits.

-Hey, the world's ending, I say why not?

-Neon... :(

-"The world doesn't need to worry about Kurama Neon."

-"I do!"

-Can't believe

-Hello, Keiwa. I sure Ponkicchi doesn't exist for too long.

-Yes! Friend~!

-And here comes Kousei!

-Bro shut the fuck up, you don't get to be mad about this.

-You enabled it. You profited off it.

-The simple things in life~!

-True happiness was very easy.

-Oh I see Buffa drew 'em all.

-Well he doesn't seem a very artsy type, but I am impressed with his detailing.

-They kinda remind me of Tbh jhlkhg

-Especially Keiwa and Neon.

-"You're missing someone :3"

-Oh okay, sure

-Show off!

-My new headcanon is that Ace struggles to draw bears so he just made Punkjack's helmet from memory.

-I don't really think of Buffa as an anti-hero at this point.

-With how aggressive, unsympathetic, cruel, and downright savage he is as of now, he's ironically far closer to a classical Greco-Roman hero.

-Idk Ace, I think perhaps you're being a little generous here. It's pretty damn cruel to rip someone's dream away, even if it meant saving them.

-You're a sweet gal, Sara-neesan.

-She stands.

-"We are going to win this."

-...wait a minute, I just thought of something.

-If Sara knows how to use the Spider Phone, then surely she must've popped open the score screen at some point.

-...Keiwa, you should've been found out the MOMENT she got the phone.

-Takahashi, what the fuck???

-"Hold it."

-Duncan Jumpscare.

-"There's Big Sister..."

-Will one of you guys fucking jump in?

-Finally, you go Keiwa!

-I'd better be seeing cute sibling teamups soon, Takahashi.

-:)

-"Whatever, this is our problem now."

-The Na-Go Nation accepts Hakubi as one of our leaders.

-Alrighty then Ace, show us what you got.

-Well then, Buffa. Show us what you're made of.

-Let's goooooo!

-This is fascinating camera work.

-Jetlagged Fox.

-Oh, he

-He swims.

-Yeah this is pretty sick

-Shoot him harder, Buffa.

-Oh

-There goes his armor.

-Oh! Okay, that was cool.

-You're a bastard Buffa, but I can't deny your sense of style.

-...Monster looks pretty silly on you though.

-"I'm dying... I'm cold... but my boys will grow big..."

-This hurts.

-The Jyamato are just another of the Admins' many victims. Born and bred to fight and die for their entertainment.

-Good night, Archimedel. Gardener.

-"This sucks."

-Oh dammit, that's Nadgey's Core.

-"What do you want now?"

-"DGP is cancelled."

-Ovetime~!

-OH????

-THAT'S NEW

-What that????

-The buckle's orange... Boost MarkIII?

-...he looks so naked like that, what the heck?

#the world's next round: trick shot of desire for the grand victory #geats #kr geats #geats spoilers #kamen rider geats #kamen rider

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russiandoll-from-brooklyn · 3 years

Text

Just Once - Part 2

Title: Just Once - Part 2

Some of y'all were asking for Part 2 of Just Once so here ya go! This picks up right after the first story.

Pairing: Tony Stark x fem!reader

Summary: Grief and loneliness got the best of you last night. Your friendship with Tony was too precious to risk, and now all you want to do is move on. But what happens when the other party doesn't want to forget?

Warnings: smut, language, (technically) cheating, friends to lovers, mentions of past canon trauma, oral (f receiving), protected sex

Word Count: 5.1k

[Starts out sweet and all about tony x reader friendship, then turns into steamy Tony smut. Table sex, included. 😳]

---

Thump, thump, thump.

Your feet hit the pavement rhythmically as you jog your normal morning route. It’s a misty Seattle morning, and the world is still quiet. The sun is rising sleepily, beginning to bathe the world in gold. All is well.

Except. It isn’t.

You turn the block corner, and your apartment comes into sight. You take a glance down at your watch.

42 minutes.

That’s how long ago you had quietly slipped out of your apartment for your morning run. That’s how long it had been since your eyes shot open and you remembered the events of last night, rushing into your mind, all at once like a tsunami. You had turned your head to find Tony still asleep beside you in the bed. One leg sticking out of the messy sheets and his face buried in the pillow. Your pillow.

You had stared at him in disbelief, half-expecting him to disintegrate into a fleeting figment of your imagination. You had rubbed your eyes, trying to clear the haze.

Nope. Still there.

You silently curse yourself and your stupidity (see: weakness in the face of sexual temptation) for the 50th time this morning as you approach the brick building. Perhaps, when you reenter your apartment, Tony will be gone, and this will all have just been a bad trip — or something of the like.

Before you even open the door, the smell of frying bacon reaches your nose. You step inside and are greeted by a peculiar sight.

Tony Stark, clad in nothing but a pair of dark jeans, is buzzing about your small kitchenette. Simultaneously, there are eggs being flipped over-easy on the stovetop, orange juice being procured from the open fridge, bacon sizzling happily in a pan, and toast being buttered. You stand in amazement for a few seconds, processing the scene before you. The wonderful aroma of the all-American breakfast makes you mouth water.

“Y/N! Hey!” Tony exclaims when he sees you.

You slide onto a stool at the bar top, overlooking the controlled chaos unfolding in the kitchen area. Tony truly has remarkable skill when it comes to multitasking. You guess, all that time in the suit, operating about twenty computing systems at once, was good practice.

“Wow. Breakfast?” you remark, raising an eyebrow. “Since when do you cook?”

He scoffs, shooting you a brief smile before turning away to rapidly crack some black pepper onto the eggs.

“Cooking is easy. People think it’s a skill, but really it’s just planning, timing it out. It’s like assembling anything else. You just do the parts in order, trying not to break any yolks.”

You roll your eyes sarcastically at the classic “Tony” response.

Suddenly, all the components come crashing together, and Tony is setting down two perfectly assembled breakfast plates on the bar top — complete with a glass of orange juice for each of you. It looks delicious; it’s been way too long since you had a proper breakfast. Meaning, a breakfast that wasn’t cereal, a protein bar, or a bowl of sad, pale, scrambled eggs. You thank Tony as he pulls up the other stool to sit across from you.

“Dig in,” he says cheerfully, raising his fork. “Good run this morning?”

You nod, taking a big gulp of orange juice.

“Yeah, I heard you leaving,” Tony continues mindlessly. “Kind of weird waking up to an empty bed after a night like that. I finally know what it feels like to be on the other side, I guess.”

You nearly spit out your bite of toast. And just like that, reality comes crashing back down to earth. For a brief moment, it had felt like things could possibly come out normal on the other side. You and Tony could go back to being perfectly normal best friends.

How ignorant.

“What?” you remark incredulously.

You’re on the verge of laughter, partially out of amusement but mostly out of bewildered embarrassment.

Tony gives you his award-winning “I’m innocent!” raised-eyebrow expression. You suddenly become acutely aware of the situation. Tony Stark is sitting in your kitchen, shirtless, serving you breakfast. After you spent a far-from-platonic night rolling around your sheets together. You want to slap yourself.

“I’m talking about the incredible sex we had last night. And then, you leaving me alone before sunrise,” Tony explains casually, pushing your buttons further. “That's usually my play.”

He looks up at you, expecting a playful quip in return. Instead, you just slowly set down the fork you had been gripping.

“Tony,” you begin, seriously and calmly. “Let’s not talk about it. It was one night, and it won’t happen again. It was just once. We gave into the moment, but we shouldn’t-“

“The moment?” Tony suddenly blurts out, interrupting you. You purse your lips, surprised by the new and unexpected edge of anger in his voice. “God. Y/N. The moment, huh? You’re really just going to shrink it down to that. Just a moment.”

You stare at him, confused. Tony’s big brown eyes hold yours with an intensity. It's amazing how fast his sarcastic, playful tone can morph into ferocity. You want to look away, break his gaze, but you can’t. This whole thing was a mistake.

“It was fun,” you finally say. “But it was just a fuck. We were lonely.”

“You know, Y/N. You’re so damn smart,” Tony replies, leaning back a bit in his seat. “So, why do you always try and kid yourself? It bothers me. I know -- that you know -- that this wasn’t just a fuck.”

Your mind races through a million different responses.

Then, what was it?

What do you mean?

Why are you acting like this?

I'm not kidding myself.

But something tells you, deep down, that there's nothing you can say that won't lead to something you don't want to hear.

So, instead, you angrily snatch up your glass of orange juice, rising from your seat at the bar. You grit your teeth at Tony one more time before turning your back and striding toward to your study. You feel your cheeks burning hot.

The study is a second living room-sized space where you keep all your projects. Early sunlight is now streaming in through the large windows, falsely giving the impression of a peaceful Saturday morning. The large wooden table tops are littered with wires, microchips, and other electronic parts. When you first met the Avengers year ago, you and Tony butted heads over your shared expertise in technology and robotics. After much bickering and trying to outdo each other, you eventually accepted one another's intelligence and bonded over your shared field.

You look to the floor of your large study to see the air mattress you had set up there prior to Tony's arrival yesterday, obviously still pristine. You squeeze your eyes shut. Your apartment is absolutely dripping with reminders of last night's events. The empty whiskey glasses, still sitting on the side table in the living room. The couch pillows crumpled from the weight of your bodies, hungrily crashing together above them. You don't even want to think about your bedroom, where you're sure Tony's missing shirt is strewn on the ground.

You push the thoughts out of your your mind, pulling up a seat at your work table. You start to fiddle with a new lightweight shoulder pauldron you're currently designing. You can feel yourself going into 'shut-out' mode, trying your hardest to focus all your attention on the metal in your hands. This was all too much. This was all wrong.

When you hear footsteps behind you, entering the study, you ignore it. Tony quietly traverses the floor, coming to pull up a chair on the other side of the work table. He silently watches you working the wires into place. You don't look up. You don't have to see his expression to know the contemplative expression undoubtably painted on his face. You also don't have to look at him to know he's pondering more than just your work.

"You know, aluminum-titantium alloy won't hold up after a few heavy hits," Tony comments, nodding to the armor piece.

"I'm gonna chromatize it," you reply dryly, not looking up from your hands.

"I wouldn't bother. You can't just give everything a shiny coat to hold it together. If the problem is underneath, that is."

Fuck Tony and his fucking metaphors.

You growl angrily, throwing the pauldron down in frustration. You sit back in your seat and cross your arms, finally meeting your friend's eyes.

"Ok, fine," you say matter-of-factly. "Let's talk about it. It was good. It was really fucking good. And we both needed it. But that's it. I'm willing to leave it at that and forget about it if you are."

Tony rubs his beard in his palm, seemingly mulling over your words. His brown eyes don't leave yours. The warm sunlight coming in through the window behind him paints yellow patches on his bare shoulders, bathing him in gold. You take a mental picture of him, sitting there in his thoughts. A brief, intrusive thought passes through your mind, threatening that this could be the last time you see him. You immediately banish the notion. This friendship means too much to you. Not even a fuck-up as big as this one could make you want to toss it away. You hope Tony agrees.

"Help me understand where your head's at, Y/N," Tony finally replies. "What is your biggest concern right now? Wait, listen, I know there's a lot of reasons why last night was bad. But I want to know what you're thinking."

You sigh, uncrossing your arms. As much as Tony's 'list-and-analyze' reaction to crisis could be annoying, in some ways, it comforted you. Tony is impulsive, yes, but those who know him best also know his calculative nature: the mental risk assessments, the contingency plans labelled through Z. Always searching for the route that will hurt everyone the least. Always.

You consider his question carefully. Again, there's a million answers: the risk of ruining your friendship, the potential awkwardness, Pepper -- oh, god, Pepper --, the pain and grief you've both been through in the past few years. You close your eyes and pick one.

"You're one of the only people left that I trust. One of my only friends. Complexity doesn't often end well."

"You're right," Tony admits. "But aren't you the one who asked, 'is it wrong to not want to be alone'?"

You scoff loudly, angered by his using your words against you. However, that bitterness melts away into nothing when you see the heart-wrenching expression on Tony's face. His lips are pursed, and his eyes are searching yours desperately. Tony rarely shows outward weakness, but right now, the man before you isn't Iron Man. The man before you is broken. Someone who has tried everything to hold it -- his sanity, his relationship, his life -- together, to save the people he loves, to be strong. Someone who failed at that. Someone who truly felt alone.

You rest your chin in your palms and sigh, the weight falling over you as well.

Finally, you speak.

"Isn't it awful -- and strange -- how it can feel like a lifetime ago and just yesterday at the exact same time?"

Tony nods sadly at your observation. Of course, you were talking about the snap. About Thanos.

"You're right. About everything," he remarks. "Sometimes, it just gets too much. The...”

Loneliness. You finish his sentence in your head.

“Me too.”

“You should know though,” Tony continues. “I would never stop being your friend. No matter how complex things are. This — what we’ve been through — could never change, Y/N.”

There it is.

Some situations feel like you're running in circles; you're spiraling downwards and everything you say only makes matters worse and worse. It feels like sinking in quicksand with no way out. In every one of those situations, there's a key -- that one sentence, that one idea, that effortlessly clears the fog. This was it. Tony is going to be here, always. Everything is going to be alright.

You straighten up a bit in your seat. You let out a long sigh and give Tony a small smile.

"I know," you assure your friend. "Sometimes I forget everything that's happened. How complicated it's been before. How we made it out."

Tony laughs, and you're relived.

"How could you forget? It's been a wild ride."

The two of you grin at each other. You take a sip of your orange juice, which you had forgotten about and was now lukewarm.

"OK, happy?" you inquire with a playful tone. "Base material fixed. No need for shiny coats of anything. We're solid now."

Tony lets out a hearty chuckle at the stupid analogy. Suddenly, he stands, circling the work table until he's right in front of you. You suck in a breath of oxygen. From your seated position, your head only comes up to his abs. Bare abs, that is. You tilt your face upwards to meet his eyes.

"Y/N," he says gently. “Stand up.”

Confused, you rise to your feet. Before you can open your mouth to say anything else, Tony’s lean and muscular arms are wrapped around you. He pulls you into his chest, embracing you in his warmth. His grip is firm, as if he’s afraid you might run away. You soften into the hug, wrapping your arms around his back. You feel safe.

After a few moments, Tony releases you. However, he doesn’t move away, and the two of you are still nearly chest-to-chest. You peer up at him, and your friend’s warm toffee eyes meet yours.

“Wow, a Tony Stark hug?” you remark sarcastically. “I should play the lotto today.”

Tony chuckles under his breath. Despite your joking, it was true that Tony rarely gives hugs. He just isn’t the touchy-feely type — according to himself. Somehow this gesture, right now, meant everything. A hug was the most intimate thing Tony could have given you. It was a seal, a mark saying ‘I meant every word I just said.’

Tony is still standing directly in front of you, so close there’s only a magazine’s width between you. He’s so near that you can feel the warmth of his steady breathing, and the slight radiating heat from the arc reactor in his chest. Suddenly, you feel that familiar tug in your stomach. A rush of blood downwards...

“Tony-“

“Do you want me?” Tony cuts you off. His voice is low, gentle.

You suck in a breath of air at his words. Despite his directness, there's a detectable edge of nervousness in his tone. You smile internally at knowing you have this effect on Mr. Playboy. The slight uncertainty in Tony's voice also tells you that it's true: this is different. Last night was not just a mindless fuck. This is an understanding, wrapped around a mutual care that runs so deep that it burns.

You don’t even try to convince yourself that you don’t want Tony. Every ounce of your being is screaming to close the gap between you. You can still hear the scientist-logic-brain in you resisting, but your heart feels at ease. You and Tony. A concept that felt like the forbidden fruit itself just ten minutes ago now looked more like an oasis. And oasis that was maybe alright to take a drink from every once in a while.

You snake one hand upward to hold his cheek. Tony pushes gently into your palm.

It's you who leans in first. When your lips collide, it's soft. He presses himself into you, a delicate sigh escaping. You pull back just enough to whisper a breathy "I want you."

And oh, god do you want him.

“Then, have me,” Tony whispers back, gently.

You nearly visibly shiver. Any trace of hesitation is gone from his voice now. His words are demanding, but his tone is more of a plea.

“Do you want to go the bedroom?”

“No,” Tony replies immediately. He’s breathless. “Right here.”

You immediately feel wetness drop into your panties. Tony’s eyes have grow darker, as they bear down at you. The intensity makes your legs feel weak. You need him. He needs you.

In a moment of boldness, you bring your hands down to the hemline of your shirt. You lift the garment up and over your head, placing it on the work table beside you. Tony’s eyes wander to your red sports bra and your now-stiffened nipples showing through the sleek fabric.

In the next breath, Tony is suddenly kissing you again, his lips against yours in a desperate hunger. He brings his large, roughly calloused hands to your waist. He firmly grips your body, making you feel tiny in his hold. You let a small moan escape your lips.

Still holding you in his grasp, Tony starts to walk you backwards until your backside is pressed against the edge of your large work table. Tony’s hips press forward into you, making you gasp with excitement. You fingertips tangle in his hair, just wanting more and more and more...

In an effortless movement, Tony lifts your sports bra over your head. He throws the red fabric to the side, neither of you caring where it lands. Tony breaks away from your lips, starting to kiss down your cheek, jaw, and then finally giving attention to the delicate skin on your neck. Again, he’s careful not to nip or suck too hard to leave marks. The light scratching of his facial hair contrasts with the soft wetness of Tony’s lips, making you throw your head back in pleasure.

He continues to attend to your neck and jaw as one of his jean-clad thighs moves to fall between your legs. You let out a deep groan as Tony begins to rub and and roll his knee forward, stimulating your clothed core. His movements are like a wave, every forward crest bringing you a tiny bit of that friction your body wants so, so much. You’re in awe of the control Tony has over his movements and the effortless pleasure he’s capable of giving. You can’t help but find his experience and expertise sexy.

“Y/N,” Tony breathes against your neck. “Say it again. Please. Say you want me.”

It occurs to you that, aside from last night, Tony hasn’t felt wanted in a long time. Like, truly wanted. A pang of sadness fills your heart.

“Tony. I want you,” you declare, making sure the conviction in your voice shines through. You don’t have to try. You desire him more than anything right now. “I want you. I want this.”

With your words, Tony moans deeply into your jawline and begins to move his leg between yours more vigorously. Your fingertips trace over his bare back muscles. You trail your hands upward, into the nape of his neck, massaging his scalp. Everything about his beautiful form fits perfectly in your hands.

Tony continues moving downwards, soon finding your right nipple in his mouth. You arch your back, letting a loud moan escape your lips. He works your nipple expertly, rolling it and playing at it with his tongue. He alternates to your other nipple, his thumb replacing where his mouth just left. He lightly strokes the hard, spit-slick bud, and the combination of coolness and friction is heaven.

Tony stands back up, and a second later, his hands are at the elastic band of your running shorts. His eyes meet yours for a moment, silently asking for your permission. You nod a bit too eagerly, and Tony cracks a small, teasing smile. You scoff and lightly slap his shoulder, returning the smile.

Tony pulls your shorts down in one swift motion, leaving you in just your underwear. Next thing you know, Tony’s arms are around your waist. You let out a soft, surprised squeal as he lifts you effortlessly to sit on the edge of the work table behind you. Slightly elevated now, you come to about the same height as Tony.

“Hey,” you protest playfully. “Be careful. There’s important stuff here.”

Tony reaches behind you to clear the area, moving your half-finished projects and parts to the side.

“My apologies, Ms. Y/L/N,” he replies with a huge grin. “Got a bit carried away.”

You pull him into another deep kiss. He growls with pleasure when you nip at his bottom lip. Tony is now standing between your knees, his torso pressing gently into your panty-covered pussy. You can feel his erection through his jeans, straining against his clothes. After seeing Tony’s length for the first time last night, the mental image of his cock — just a few millimeters away from your core — is enough to make you drool. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him in harder against you. He moans into your mouth, and you feel the vibrations as your tongues tangle together.

You feel Tony’s body leaning forward, slowly coaxing you to lay down on the table. Now fully on your back, Tony’s above you, taking in the sight of your body.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the most magnificent creature on Earth?”

“No,” you reply with a smirk. “But now, knowing how many other planets are out there in the galaxy, just being Miss Earth doesn’t seem like a huge deal.”

Tony laughs, smiling with his teeth. You find the crinkles that form on the outer corners of his eyes utterly endearing.

“Well, you’re still one out of four-and-three-quarters billion,” he jests back. “Not too shabby. It’s all about the little victories.”

You giggle. The pleasant thought passes through your mind that despite the current situation, everything does feel strangely normal. Tony is still Tony; you’re still you. The banter between you and your friend is still comfortable and easy. Your relationship, although maybe morphing into something more nuanced, remains unmoved.

You’re so caught up in your inner thoughts, that you don’t register Tony kneeling to the ground between your legs. You gasp when you feel his warm mouth over your still-clothed pussy. The combined wetness of his mouth and your core easily soaks through the fabric of your panties, making it cling to your skin. Tony runs his tongue over your folds, through the saturated cloth. You groan with pleasure, the small of your back arching off of the table. You grip Tony’s dark hair, needing something to hold onto.

The sensation of Tony’s lips and tongue through your thin panties is completely unique, and fuck, does it drive you wild.

After a few minutes, Tony’s hands reach up to hook in the waist of your panties. He removes your final garment, leaving you fully bare. His mouth immediately returns to your pussy. His tongue circles your clit, before running downwards through your lips, and then back up again. He alternates this pattern with gentle sucks on your clit.

“Oh, Tony. Shit,” you manage to call out. “That feels so good.”

He hums hungrily into you, pleasuring you to a level that no previous lovers have ever come close to. Tony’s large, rough hands wander upwards. One palm gentle grips your breast, while the other comes under your waist to hold the small of your back.

You raise your head slightly to glance down at Tony. The sight is pornographic. His face is buried in your cunt, head bobbing. The shape of his shoulder muscles, and his strong back. His tan skin, all bathed in golden sunlight.

Pleasuring you. On his knees.

It’s like a painting. Beautiful and erotic.

“Tony. I need you,” you gasp out, suddenly overcome with neediness. “Inside me. Fuck, I want you.”

Those magic words, again. I want you. The effect they have on Tony is instantaneous. Without hesitation, Tony is on his feet. He swiftly unbuttons his jeans and pulls down the zipper. His pants fall down to his ankles where he kicks them off. To your surprise his naked cock springs free. A glistening pearl of precum is formed at the tip.

“Wow, commando, huh?” you tease, gently biting at your bottom lip. “You were so confident you were going to get lucky again today?”

“Of course not. I just like to let it breath sometimes,” Tony remarks. “You wouldn’t get it. It’s a man thing.”

You scoff and roll your eyes sarcastically. Lovable idiot.

“Top drawer?” Tony asks, referring to the location of the condoms.

“On the left.”

Tony hurries out of the room and returns a second later with a condom from your bedroom. Stepping closer between your knees, he gives his cock a few pumps in his fist. You can feel your heart quickening with anticipation. Your pussy is nearly pulsing, needing to be stretched and filled.

Tony rips open the shiny wrapper and rolls the condom down onto his length. You scoot slightly closer to the edge of the table as his hands travel to grip your thighs. You moan deeply as Tony rubs the head of his cock over your slit, spreading your moisture.

“Are you ready?” Tony asks, eyes dark with desire.

“Mmhmm,” you hum. “Make me feel good.”

With that, Tony starts slowly pushing into your dripping pussy. You groan as your walls accommodate to his girth. It’s amazing that you took him just last night, and he’s already capable of stretching you like this again. Tony throws his head back, hissing in pleasure as he bottoms out, his pubic mound flush against yours.

He starts pumping gently. The way Tony’s hips roll forward in fluid motions makes you want to scream with pleasure. His hands are gripping your thighs tightly, fingertips digging into the soft flesh.

Tony’s pace quickens, and soon the room is filled with sounds of wetness, skin slipping on skin, and the moans leaving both your throats. One of Tony’s hands moves to your pussy. His thumb rubs tight circles on your clit making you see stars behind your eyes. The extra stimulation almost immediately starts tightening the orgasmic coil in your stomach. Tony seems to know the exact speed to move his cock and thumb to turn you into a whimpering mess beneath him.

“Oh, more,” you groan, your pleasure growing. “Tony Stark. Yes, oh, please.”

“Come for me, Y/N,” Tony growls almost primally. “Wanna feel you squeezing around my cock.”

Tony’s filthy demands go straight to your pussy. You love the feeling of being under him, sprawled out on the table, completely naked for him to fuck. And the dirty talk is the cherry on top.

The pleasure in your abdomen continues to rise until you’re on the edge of ecstasy. With one last thrust, your orgasm washes over you. You scream Tony’s name into the room, not caring who hears. Pulses of pleasure rip through your entire body, even making your feet tingle. When you come down, the convulsions slowing, your head feels fuzzy and bubbly.

Not even a moment later, you feel Tony lifting your legs higher. Still inside you, he straightens them, bringing your ankles to rest on his shoulders. The new sensation is instantly nirvana. He starts pumping into you, and the head of his cock rubs your G-spot on every thrust. Penetrative sex had never felt this good for you.

“You feel so fucking amazing, Y/N,” Tony manages to says between moans. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

The feeling of your pussy being pounded in this angle has your eyes rolling back into your skull. All your thoughts seem to leave your head. The only thing you can focus on is the immense pleasure. The sound of Tony’s balls slapping against you wetly with every stroke combined with his desperate moans fill your ears.

Tony’s thrusts start to become more jagged, needy. His moans slowly transform more into whimpers as he continues to fuck into you. Suddenly, Tony comes with a series of loud groans, his eyes shut tight. You feel his dick pulsating inside you as he orgasms. He thrusts a few more times, riding out the last waves.

He gently slides out of you, his hands coming down the tabletop next to your waist to steady himself. Both of you are breathing heavily, your bodies radiating with the afterglow of pleasure.

Silently, Tony helps you to stand before sweeping you up easily in his arms. You lean into his chest as he carries you to the bedroom. Tony lays you down carefully on the cool mattress before hurrying to the bathroom. He returns a moment later with a warm washcloth.

After cleaning yourselves up, Tony crawls into the refreshing sheets beside you. He slips one arm under your neck, and you cuddle in closer to his body. The warmth and smoothness of his skin is so, so welcoming. In the strangest way, it feels natural.

“I didn’t think it was possible to top last night,” you finally say, chuckling.

“Me neither,” Tony replies. “I guess we just have good chemistry.”

“Who would’ve thought?” You laugh and drape an arm over his chest. “Hey, question.”

“Ask away.”

“Why did you cook all that stuff earlier? Like the eggs, toast, the whole nine yards. It was sort of...”

“Out of character?” Tony finishes your sentence.

You nod. Tony takes a deep breath, exhaling loudly.

“Honestly, when I woke up, and you were gone, I was freaking out a little bit. I wanted to talk about last night, but you weren’t there, and I just didn’t know what you were thinking. If you were having serious regrets, or if you were angry, or upset with me. Or if you were thinking our whole friendship was burned to the ground.

“I just needed to do something. Anything. Busy my hands, distract my mind. Sorry that I kind of raided your kitchen.”

You turn to peer up at him, letting out a soft laugh. His chocolate eyes meet yours, and you give him a kind smile, endeared by his typical, hyper ramblings.

“I’m sorry I left,” you start. “I was freaking out a little, too. I guess that’s always been a difference between us. I always try to run from the unknown, while you just want to plow straight through it.”

Tony smiles warmly and blinks his gorgeous, thick black eyelashes at you.

“It’s why we make a good pair. Balance. Yin and yang. Ya’ know.”

You both chuckle, content in one another’s arms. You open your mouth to reply, but you’re cut off by a loud growl from your stomach. Tony bursts into laughter.

“Your fault for barely touching breakfast,” Tony remarks playfully. “Which — not to toot my own horn — was quite artfully made.”

“I guess I could settle for a bowl of lowly cereal as punishment,” you reply with mock sadness.

Tony chuckles and shakes his head. He starts to rise from the bed, then offers his hand for you to follow.

“C’mon, I’ll make you some more eggs.”

#tony x reader #tony x fem!reader #avengers imagines #avengers fic #avengers smut #tony stark #smut #tony stark smut #marvel fics #iron man #iron man smut #iron man fic #dom!tony #soft!tony #friends to lovers #tony stark fluff #fanfic

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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

Note

Omg I'm SO sorry!!! I'm the soulmates pain AU anon, I was completely aware you were the one with the milestone!! I saw the post through Molly's rb and I was almost completely sure I had opened your blog to send you the ask but alas, the Tumblr app can never give you any certainties. That long-ass message was completely dedicated to you, I still can't quite grasp how I managed to send it to scribbledghost 🙄🙄🙄 Sorry!!! Congrats again, I love you!!!!

for reference a Din Djarin x reader soulmate request where your soulmate feels your injuries and pain

hello, dear heart!

I wanted to say, before anything else, thank you. I've reread your words multiple times since you sent this, confirming they were to me, and they really mean the world to me. thank you so, so much! anyway, your idea is fantastic, I had a lot of fun with this one! I hope you like seeing what I did with your already wonderful thoughts 💕

ps it's well documented that I'm a big fan of sprawling thoughts, so please never apologize for sharing them!

warnings: mentions canon-typical injuries, a bunch of fluff. at least enough for a couple of throw pillows

soulmate requests / follower celebration

There's a short burn on his forearm when he wakes.

Din stares at it, wondering at the dull ache, trying to place the injury from yesterday's adventure when it hits him. Hot and golden warmth, flooding through his chest, thawing his flesh against the cold filtered air.

It's one of yours.

A burn, on his forearm.

And selfishly, indulgently, he pauses for a moment, mind slipping away from duty and expectations to dwell in the daydream of his soulmate.

First, his mind creates an image of a blurry mandalorian caretaker, gently moving around a kitchen in the covert. You stir a pot, tapping the spoon on the side before setting it down. Hearing distant calls, you turn too quickly and oh - a sliver of burn along your arm.

Din wants to help, wants to pull you away from the domestic .... danger, and he rushes forward. Your helmet turns to him and he almost sees it - before his mind can no longer produce the answers he aches for late at night.

The second image is of you, in armor as gleaming as his own, in a thick, unrecognizable forest. The hairs on his neck are at full attention, already subconsciously wanting to shout - but you don't need his help. You're breathtaking in all versions of his daydream - but watching you fight with practiced ease punches the air from his lungs. For a moment he feels self-conscious of his awkward maneuvers and slapdash fighting but then his mind pulls him back. You're protecting someone, or else you wouldn't have messed up - you never do, injuries from you are too rare - but you shove them behind you, shooting an enemy over your shoulder before your helmet snaps back. There are so many - you're surrounded - and a hot, sharp blaster bolt grazes your forearm before your fury is truly unleashed.

He runs his fingers over the burn, almost giddy at the possibilities.

Mandalorians are few and far between, but he's grateful he has a soulmate, and even more thankful you've kept yourself out of harm's way almost entirely, since you'd been connected.

As he dons his layers, the shine of his armor reflects bruises and scrapes littered across the expanse of his skin. His own, from his journey, and one beautiful little burn from his soulmate.

And then they're covered, and the armor is tied securely in place, and he leaves his daydreams in the room as the ship door slides unceremoniously shut.

You hiss at the burn, clutching your arm.

Great. Just what you needed - another injury to add to your impressive collection.

At least my soulmate gets a gift from me this time. You roll your eyes.

The vendor next to your stall is a sweet lady, already apologizing for her steaming pots and pans and offering you compensation.

The credits would be nice, but you could hardly justify taking anything, especially since it was your soulmate's fault your body was riddled with aches and pains in the first place.

Waving your hand, you accept her counter offer - a bowl of her perfect broth and noodles - before retreating. You sell cloth, from beautiful dyed lengths tucked away to sturdy, unstainable blacks, and it was days like today that you thanked your stars for that choice.

There's a thick pile in the middle that you perch on, sinking into the folds as your body cries at you, and you sigh over your soup in relief. The burden of waking to webbing bruises and sprawling scrapes and the more-than-occasional broken bone is eased by your stall - sitting and haggling until the sun goes down. That is, unless there's drama in the market, as it seems there is today.

In the distance you hear shouts, more than those of vendors selling meat on sticks to passing warriors and merchants - the taunts of drunkards.

Someone is coming, and you almost laugh when you see his form in the distance, because he's trying and failing to be inconspicuous. It's impossible, with his gleaming armor, but still he ducks into shadowy spots, forgetting - or maybe ignoring - their inhabitants.

"A Mandalorian has graced our market," your neighbor remarks dryly. They were respected, but it was well known that chaos followed them. You share a look, both wishing you were wealthy enough to conpletely pack up shop. If anything, a logical person would put away most of the stock and hunker down for a few hours. Weighing the odds was difficult: if you were lucky, the chaos wouldn't bother your business, and shoppers might be drawn out, hoping for entertainment and spending as they waited. If you weren't, a wayward burst of plasma or blaster fire would destroy your whole month's stock.

You looked at him again, the Mandalorian kneeling down the street. His form was... almost handsome, formidable but careful. He was light on his feet, seemingly with gentleness on his mind, and it drew you in like a moth to flame. You decided to stay, and hope for the best, your curiosity pulsing like your bruises.

And you were lucky, that day, because he ducked away not a moment later, taking the exciment with him.

Until, he came back the next day, this time on the prowl, stalking up and down the edge of Dicer's Row, one hand on his blaster and the other atop a bulky, wriggling bag. This time, you ventured to stand, folding and refolding your displays as you watched him through your lashes.

And then he made his move, and you sighed, feigning a yawn to cover your disappointment from your neighbor's knowing smile. She shouldn't be wiggling her eyebrows over the box wall between you - honestly his type were more annoying than anything. A crash from the alley confirmed it: there was no way a guy like that cared about his soulmate. The gentleness from before was surely a trick of the light.

Your whole side lit up with pain, the impact of something hard against your whole side and you groaned, settling into your mound again. Any curiosity or attraction was snuffed under your annoyance and pain, and your mood soured like fruit left unpicked on the tree.

Selfish, you thought, glaring as a chicken ran squawking from the commotion. What a jerk.

The next day, you tried to maintain the sentiment, huffing as he wandered the stalls.

Why does he keep coming back?

You'd have thought his time here was over when he'd dragged that lowlife out of town yesterday. But here he was, buying a crock of soup at the stall next to you, and ignoring her comments about how he couldn't eat it with his helmet on.

She had warmed to him, since he'd put money in her pocket, chattering in a way that kept him stuck for long moments.

It struck you as strange - he almost seemed too awkward to leave, like her returned generosity actually meant something to him. A man like him... surely could've just walked away.

But he stayed for awhile, nodding and looking at the spoons she carved in her free time, and you almost thought he was looking at you, too. Then he ducked his head and planted himself in front of you, and certainly he was.

For all the years you'd spent weaving words to sell your fabrics and goods, you'd never been so speechless. The Mandalorian was large, sharp, shining edges and bulky canvas packs tied to his shoulders - he seemed out of place, filling your whole stall, shuffling as he loomed over you.

He asked for soft brown things - children's clothes.

"Of course, I - I mean, yes, just over here -" you tripped over your words, caught completely off guard by the shape of him, the feel of him just an arms width away, and his request. You stumbled from your seat, nearly toppling in your hurry and his gloved hand wrapped around your arm, catching you.

"You're injured," he stated not really asking. It was... overwhelmingly intimate, him knowing, and acknowledging it, like he cared.

"Yeah, my..." you swallowed, trying not to get lost in the dark glass inches from your face. "My self-centered soulmate keeps getting himself nearly killed."

Even with your heart thumping in your chest, you couldn't keep the bite from your words, bitterness having collected over years of nursing injuries that were consequences of someone else's actions. He didn't let go of you for a moment, his helmet pulling back and tilting, like he was startled.

Then he was cautious, unbearably so, releasing his grip like a child freeing a captured creature when it was time. The topic was dropped, and he made his purchase quickly, but before he left, he paused. The Mandalorian's gloved hand ghosted over your cheek, slowly moving a hair back into it's place, and if you hadn't known better, it was almost an apology.

And then, thick cape swirling in the dust, tiny clothes in tow, he swept away, leaving you along with your whole body alight with a foreign longing.

Din felt as though he'd been stabbed.

Hot, hot feelings poured through his chest, spreading fast as fire as he desperately tried to sort through them.

You - you were incredible, fragile and bruised, with the most stunning, determined eyes he had ever seen. Not a Mandalorian, and you had a ... a soulmate, a fucker who left your skin littered with marks, burdening you with ...

He felt panicked, shocked, and guilty, just as he had when you'd told him. It had never occred to him that his soulmate might be there... out there, constantly burdened by his recklessness. His body screamed for attention, something he so often ignored, but this time, he was almost deafened by it.

His feet, legs, arms, chest, heart - all of them wanted him to return to you, in your little fabric stall. To... what? Truly, he hadn't the slightest idea, so his mind won out, shaking a little to try to reign in the muscles that he'd taught to obey him.

He couldn't go to you.

But, he couldn't stay away.

He was back in the market, and this time, he wasn't being subtle about staring at you.

Tall and ... slow, he waded through the crowds, making his was towards you like he was following a careful path.

"Can I help you?" You stood, moving almost involuntarily towards him. "Was there something wrong with my -" he was already shaking his head, hands reaching to make you shush.

Waiting, an irrational part of your mind wished he would touch you again, would place his big hands on your skin and sooth the aches that haunted your life. It was unfair, but you didn't stop it, couldn't if you tried.

Carefully, he slid a single finger to your arm, pushing up your sleeve to reveal the little burn you'd gotten.

He was being gentle. It made you want to stomp your feet, jealously welling up in your heart like bile, bitter and hot. How could it be, that someone so powerful had learned so quickly, wanted to, and he wasn't - he wasn't even your -

Then he moved again, pushing up his own sleeve and your thoughts tumbled over each other. It was intimate, even more than before, desperately trusting, as his skin near glowed in the morning light. And there was a burn on his skin, hairs singled like they'd met the edge of a pot of boiling broth.

You wanted to punch him. This man has spent years tossing his body around like he had one one spare, making your own as brittle as bread crust and - you wanted to kiss him. This man had learned after a single day, the impact of his actions, and had been nothing but kind.

The forehead of his helmet pressed into yours, and the two sides of your mind compromised.

Later, words would come - they had to.

But now, your eyes closed, and you sighed. He had the rest of your life to make it up to you - and he would, you were sure.

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#din djarin x reader #soulmate requests #anonymous and elle #elle only posts soulmate rqs at weird hours thats the rule

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adelior · 3 years

Text

Name: Unconditionally

Author: R. Adelio

Genre: Romance, Minecraft, Comedy, Fluff

Main Lead: Technoblade, Dreamwastaken

Female Lead: Reader

Chapter: 1

Special Addition: Tchnomaid

Letters: 10,718

<- ->

"I'm bored" You mumbled into your palm as you kept your gaze on the papers that were set up in front of you. "It's your fault for trespassing their area, [Name]. You should know by now how strict Dream is with the boundaries of the countries." Wilbur interpreted, his brows furrowing by the second. "They could have killed you."

"I'm sorry, I was just curious" Hearing you apologize, he softened up and groaned. Wil patted your shoulder with a somewhat forced smile before leaving the room. "Make sure to finish brewing the potions by the end of the day. For now," He looked back, nodding his head. "I'll see you around, [Name]."

"You too, Wil" Sighing, you turned to look at the blonde-haired boy who stood awkwardly in the corner. "Well uh, that went well at least!" Slamming your first, you startled Tommy as he shrieked. "I got in trouble in YOUR PLACE-"

"Yeahhhh, about that, I'm sorry!" Tommy shook you by the shoulders, a grin spreading across his face. "I'll make it up to you okay? I'll set you up on a date with Wilbur if it makes you feel any better" Your cheeks darkened, giving the kid a pathetic slap as you covered the bottom half of your face.

"It's really nothing like that. I don't.. like him.." The last part of your sentence was muttered, and as usual, the boy who knew of your feelings let out a hollering laugh. "I knew it! Who would have fucking thought that you'd fall for Wil! Out of all people!"

"LOOK-" You turned to face him, your face getting hotter and hotter the more you thought about it. "I have my reasons okay! He's a good guy, and on top of that, he's an amazing friend"

"An amazing friend you say? He's also one hell of a fucking leader that's for sure. But enough about your crush let's go out and play with Tubbo!" Dismissing him with a single wave, you gave your best sympathetic smile. "Sorry Tommy, but I have to finish brewing these potions by the end of the day. I can't afford to be disciplined by Wil again"

"Hm, whatever, fine" The boy shrugged, leaving you alone. "THIS ISN'T THE END WOMAN! You will join me and Tubbo on our conquest sooner or later!" You chuckled, smiling at his childish behavior. "Yeah, yeah, now go on and have fun"

You can hear him shout out loud, laughing as he tackled what you perceive to be Tubbo. "I never wanna leave" The sentence that slipped out of your mouth caught you off guard. Despite being an outsider to their nation, they treated you with respect and saw you as a member of their group.

Sitting back down, you continued to flip through the pages of the book. Studying the recipes and applying the specific ingredients to each bottle. "Oh shit, I ran out of spider eyes" Cursing, you stood up to walk towards the door, looking out into the hallway. "Niki!" You shouted from your office, capturing the woman's attention. "Yes, [Name]?"

"Do you know if we have any spider eyes left in the chest room? Or have we completely run out of it" She pondered for a second, answering once she finished checking her inventory. "I don't think we have any more spider eyes. I'm also not carrying any with me sadly"

"Oh, that's alright. I can just outside and kill some spiders myself" Pushing yourself forward to one of your chests, you opened it and took some resources. A bow, 10 arrows, and full iron armor apart from your golden shoes. "[Name], you don't need to go out and kill some on your own. It's dangerous at night"

"Exactly, which is why I plan to go to the Piglin market to trade some gold for a few stacks of spider eyes" Niki shook her head in denial, refusing to let you pass by. "That's even more dangerous! We're humans, we can't go inside there unless we have the King's permission. And usually, we'd have knightly escorts to go around with us"

"True, but I can slip in and slip out without being noticed" You shrugged on your hood, a robe that covered your full body apart from your face. "I can hide with this, besides if they aren't able to tell that I'm human they'll never be able to report it to the king"

"Al..right.." The short-haired girl had a troubled expression on her face, but nevertheless, let you pass. "Good luck! Please come home safely" You turned to give her a single nod, a reassuring smile that was enough to calm her down. "I promise, so don't worry about me okay?"

And so you left, walking to the basement of your home where the Nether Portal stood tall. You gulped at the mere sight of it, how mysterious yet alluring. The purple particles only making it look majestic. "beautiful.." You muttered as you slowly entered, the change of temperature really hit you hard. It was hot, humid compared to how it felt in the overworld. "Goddamn how do piglins live like this"

"Shocking, right?" A male voice erupted from the silence, causing you to stiffen. "I'm assuming you're not used to traveling to the Nether." You slowly turned around, only to be met with a man with dirty blonde hair. "Pardon?" You tilted your head, staring at his smiling mask. "Nothing, would you like me to escort you and keep you safe?"

"And what makes you think I'd trust a stranger" You questioned, earning a chuckle from the man. "You're not as dumb as you look. But don't worry you're not my type, I won't do anything."

"WH-" His hand went over your mouth in a flash, he moves fast for a person with netherite armor, and on top of that a black robe. "Keep your voice down, first rule when entering the Nether World is to never bring unnecessary attention to yourself."

"Got it" Your voice was muffled from his large hand, he stepped back before leading the way, making sure that you were tailing right behind him. "The second rule, make sure to always be with somebody. Never travel alone or you'll die in an instant without somebody keeping you safe."

"Safe? Is the Nether really dangerous for you to say that?" Observing his reaction, you realized how sharp his jawline was. You can't peak through the mask but his mouth was fully exposed. "Yes, I take it you've never looked into this dimension?"

"Well, to be fair I've only heard of the Nether. This is my first time actually setting foot into the portal" The man's mouth pulled back into a dumbfounded snarl, almost as if he was silently judging you for your actions. "Weird." Was all he said before nudging you forward. "We're here, keep your guard up. What are you here for exactly?"

"I'm here to trade gold for a few stacks of spider eyes" He sighed, pulling your hood closer to your face. "You do realize you could have killed a few spiders in the overworld without having to come here."

"Uh, not really the best in combat you see" You admitted, darting your attention to the passing piglings who stood at least 5 feet taller than the man leading the way. Their species were large and brute compared to humans, they were cool but dangerous to interact with. "What the hell were you thinking when you decided to come here without somebody to guide you."

"I honestly have no clue" You stared at the man with a blank face, earning a disappointed grunt from him. "Well, turn around Princess because we just arrived at the Mob looting store. Stay out here, I'll get the eyes for you."

"Wait a second- I feel bad you're the one who led me here and protected me-" The man that accompanied you patted your head with one of the most genuine smiles you've ever seen. Despite him being awfully mysterious, he has shown nothing but kindness all throughout your journey. "Don't worry about it. Just stay here and don't run off anywhere. It's even more dangerous inside because piglins tend to fight over items."

Fidgeting with your hands, you finally agreed. The blonde took that as an agreement and stepped into the store. You were left to stay outside, leaning against the wall that was nearest to the door. A few seconds passed, and yet you were still outside waiting. You were beginning to think that the man who you walked with abandoned you.

"Ex..c.." A piglin with long pink hair muttered, his hand reaching for you. "Excu.." You stepped aside, worried that the mob was here to harm you. The more you stared at him the more you realized he was one of them, but one that looked more human. "Is there something you need?" You questioned the man, earning a nod. "What is it?"

"Do you.. Do-" Before he was able to finish his sentence, your eyes widened in realization. You swung your right hand to open your inventory, taking out a gold bar to hand over to him. 'I heard piglins liked gold, maybe he'll leave me alone if I gave him one' Was what you thought as you urged the hybrid to take it.

He looked at you back and forth, debating whether or not he should accept it. "Take it, it's alright I have plenty of where that came from" The man in front of you hesitantly took the gold into his hands, his eyes widening when he realized how shiny and well kept the item was.

"You..-"

"Hey." The man who accompanied you shouted once he exited the shop, pulling out his netherite sword. "Back off."

"Hey wait! He didn't do anything wrong, leave him be" You pushed the blonde male back slightly, apologizing to the other person with a forced smile. "Let's just head back before we get caught!" Turning around, you tangled your fingers with his and ran away, waving the piglin goodbye.

"What are you doing." He asked, narrowing his eyes from under the mask. "You said to keep attention away from us so I am-"

"I wasn't even that loud." You turned to glare at him. "It got a lot of people's attention" The man laughed, swooping you into his arms, and began to speed up his pace. "You're a good listener." He complimented, a smile fighting to break through his irritated expression.

It took time for the two of you to finally reach the same Nether portal from before. The blonde slowly lowered you onto your feet, handing the bag of spider eyes into your chest. "Here, it's heavy so make sure to hold it with both hands."

"Thank you.." You muttered, gladly taking the bag with a smile. "Say, um.. I never caught your name?" Before the man was able to walk away, he turned to look at you one last time before telling you his name. "Clay, the name's clay."

"Clay?"

"I'll see you around." With that, he pushed you into the portal. You fell onto your back once you were transported over to the overworld, lying there with staggering breaths. "I never got to tell him my name though" But once you sat up, the Nether Portal's liquid-like wall disappeared. The particles were being sucked into the middle, and the doorway to hell was disappearing.

"What the..-"

"[NAME!]" You hear your name being called out by what sounds to be Wilbur. Turning to look over your shoulder, you see the whole group running towards you with a worrying expression. "You're back!"

<- ->

ec: @quacobs (instagram)

#mcyt x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #technoblade x reader

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