#word bubbles are deceptively hard | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wildechildwrites · 3 months

Text

Attitude Adjustment

Simon "Ghost" Riley/Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Light angst, violence

No use of Y/N

Summary: Ghost beats the shit out of you no I will not elaborate

A:N: Ghost's hands are rated E for everyone

AO3 Link: Attitude Adjustment

You're sitting in furious silence during the mission debrief, Gaz and Soap shooting you sympathetic glances that you pointedly ignore, Price's anger filling the room like natural gas, smothering you. Ghost leans against a wall, shadowed and silent.

Price finally dismisses everyone else with a bark, and you’re left alone with your fuming captain and his silent lieutenant, haunting your peripheral.

“You ignored a direct order.” Price’s voice is gruff, leaving no room for argument. You know you should apologize, but you can’t stomach it. Not when you saved his goddamn life.

“You think I was just going to let them kill you?” You ask, indignant. Price glares at you.

“I think, corporal, that you ignored a direct order from your commanding officer.” Price’s tone is sharp and dismissive.

"You put yourself and the rest of your team in danger. You could've been killed. You almost were."

“But sir–” You object, still trying to justify yourself. If he would just listen– Price shoots up from his desk, stabbing a finger towards the door.

“Don't fucking argue with me," He growls, chest heaving. "Get out."

You stand, stunned, feeling your traitorous tear ducts begin to sting. Ghost has offered nothing, and you catch his cold gaze before spinning around and storming out, slamming the door behind you.

You knew you were out of line, had vaulted out of order the moment you ignored Price, the moment you ignored every instinct the military had beaten into you, but it wasn't fair. He would’ve pulled the same stupid bullshit if the situation was reversed. You scrub angrily at your eyes, potent rage bubbling in your chest. He was singling you out on purpose, angry at you for something he would’ve excused had it been anyone else. You turn a corner, stomping down the hallway.

Soap is lingering near your room, acting far too interested in the leaky ceiling tiles. He spins around to face you when he hears your footsteps, opening his mouth to say something, but you cut him off before he can speak.

"Just don’t Johnny.” You snarl, aiming for a biting tone. It comes out as a plea, and the Scotsman gives you a pitying look that just stokes the rage curling in your chest. He steps in front of you, trying to slow your momentum, and you purposefully slam your shoulder into him, ignoring him as he calls after you.

You make a beeline for the gym, heading for a punching bag. Your fingers are numb, and you can’t stop shaking, so you throw yourself at the bag, hurling punch after punch.

“Price ripped into you good.” Ghost calls out from behind you. You jump, throwing him a sour look over your shoulder in response. You hadn’t heard him come in, unsure of how long he’s been standing there.

“You ripped into him right back.” He observes. His gaze is cold, prickling along your spine. You bite your tongue, landing a hard kick on the bag.

“Heard you also barked at Johnny.” He adds, as if an afterthought, his tone deceptively casual. You know then that you’re in real trouble. You’d been a bitch to Mactavish, and now Ghost was here to defend his honor. You roll your eyes, giving yourself that small amount of defiance before turning to face him.

He’s wrapping his hands, standing on the sparring mat closest to you. He cocks his head, eyes flat and expressionless, but the challenge is clear. You're angry enough to take the bait, abandoning your punching bag.

Ghost wordlessly gets into a fighting stance. You mirror him, waiting for the lecture, and the first blow almost knocks you on your ass.

You’ve sparred with Ghost before, but you don't think he's ever hit you that hard. It's staggering, and you double over slightly. Simon doesn’t give you a second to recuperate, throwing another punch. You barely dodge it, sliding under his arm, aiming for his ribs. You’re sloppy, and he blocks you, adding a shove to throw you off balance. It’s a dirty move, one that pisses you off even more, and you’re back on the defensive, protecting yourself as Simon throws another punch, harder than the first. You block it with more success, then move closer, aiming low. He blocks you again.

You’re panting, already exhausted from the mission, heat in your cheeks, anger building. Ghost has the advantage, twice your size and fucking mean, and you’re just trying to defend yourself. That’s all you’ve been doing all fucking day, defending yourself from your own goddamn team.

You kick him hard in the stomach. Ghost seems unaffected, those cold eyes unreadable. You throw another punch, putting all your weight into it, and he grabs your arm, using your momentum against you, flipping you over his shoulder. You slam onto your back on the mat.

“What the fuck Si-” you snap, and he kicks you in the ribs. You scramble backwards, trying to regain your footing as he advances on you.

“Price is too relieved that you’re still alive to give you a proper punishment for insubordination.” He says. "I have no such scruples."

Ghost’s blank expression doesn’t change, not even when he slams his boot into your shoulder, sending you tumbling onto your back again. You glare up at him, your chest heaving.

“Fuck you.” You spit.

“You need to remember who your superiors are,” Ghost continues evenly, ignoring you.

You go to stand, and he knocks you over once again. You practically snarl at him, shooting out and grabbing his leg. Using his body weight against him, you bring him crashing down onto the floor next to you, then slam your knee into his stomach, knocking the air out of him. Your victory is cut short when Ghost grabs you and flips the two of you over, pinning you to the floor with his body weight.

“You scared all of us,” he says. His eyes are still flat and cold. “Pull something like that again, I’ll pop your shoulder out of socket.”

You grapple against him, cursing, but he just tightens his grip, pinning your arms. It hurts, your shoulders and ribs screaming, the air being crushed out of your lungs by the weight of the giant man on top of you, but you keep fighting him.

“Get off,” you rasp. Ghost leans down, his face inches from yours.

“Are you done being a brat?” He asks lowly. You manage to twist one of your hands enough to dig your fingernails into his stomach. In response, Ghost grabs your wrist, pulling your arm behind you with enough force to wrench your shoulder. You’re completely immobilized.

It’s all too much. The exhaustion and pain, the anxiety of the mission, the humiliation of being reprimanded, the indignant rage that’s been bubbling inside of you. Everything comes crashing down, tears you’ve been fighting all day suddenly pouring out. You let out an involuntary sob, and Simon lets up, just enough to allow you to breathe, keeping you pinned beneath him as your tears build up steam.

“There’s our girl,” he says, his gravelly voice uncharacteristically soft, almost frayed. It only makes you cry harder, keening wails muffled by the large man on top of you.You're confused at the sudden switch, overwhelmed and disoriented. He rubs comforting circles into your wrist, and you’re falling apart, coming unspooled.

You sob until you run out of tears, your cries trailing off into sniffling, and only then does Ghost let you up. The anxiety and anger is gone, leaving tender exhaustion, the soreness from the fight a tangible sensation, grounding you.

“I think a hot shower is in order, corporal” Ghost says gently, helping you to your feet. You’re wobbly, trailing after him on unsteady legs as he leads you to the locker room.

He leaves you to it, disappearing back into the gym, and you strip, letting the warm water wash off the rest of the day, standing under the stream until your eyes are drooping.

To your surprise, Ghost is waiting for you when you get out, eyes closed, head resting against the wall. He looks tired, his dark circles a bruised shade of purple, showing through the half smeared off black paint. He opens his eyes, expression unreadable, and you sit down next to him.

“Apologize to Soap, will ya? He’s gutted. Sensitive, that one,” Ghost grumbles, rolling his eyes, but there’s real warmth behind the gruff, dismissive tone of voice. “And the next time you want a lashing, come straight to me instead of stomping about.”

Heat rises unexpectedly to your face, and you open your mouth to protest.

Simon holds up a finger, silencing you before you can say anything.

“Don’t fight me on it, we both know that’s what you needed. Price would've gladly taken you over his knee, but I figured you’d bite our heads clean off at the suggestion."

Your brain short circuits, your mouth opening and closing wordlessly as you stare at Ghost. He holds your gaze unflinchingly.

“I should, um,” you stutter, stumbling to your feet, “I should go find Soap.”

You practically run to the doors, and you swear as you step into the hallway you hear quiet laughter, echoing behind you.

#if I say this is a vent fic are yall gonna be weird #looney tunes pt 3 coming soon promise #ghost #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 #reader insert #ghost/reader #simon riley x reader

359 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

Hi love, can you write a james x reader fic where james is having a bad day or smtg and went to the shower and reader follows him afterwards knowing that he needed the comfort. Just two person showering together, intimate, innocent and fluff.

Thanks for requesting!

cw: non-sexual nudity

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 659 words

Steam rushes to warm you as you pull the curtain aside, stepping into the tub behind your boyfriend.

“Babe?” he turns around, suds already in his hair and creeping down his neck to his shoulders. He always uses too much shampoo; if it weren’t the least expensive thing in your shower, you’d give him a harder time for it. “You shouldn’t get your hair wet, you just washed it yesterday.”

“I don’t care,” you say, though you do a bit. Just not nearly as much as you care about him. You wrap your arms around his slippery shoulders, giving him the hug he’d rushed on his way in the door. James is good at comforting people. He’s had plenty of practice at it over his life, but not much practice being comforted. He doesn’t know how to ask for help when he’s upset. You suspect he secretly thinks that support is something he’s predestined to give but not receive.

His hands settle on the small of your back automatically and he places his chin atop your head. “It wasn’t that bad.”

You hum. “It was enough to make you sad.” Water runs in rivulets from his head to yours and drips off your chin. “That’s not nothing.”

James doesn’t reply, but you can feel his ribs expand and contract in a big breath. The dull ache that had begun forming in your chest when he’d walked the door throbs in protest.

“Want me to wash your hair?” you ask him.

There’s a brief pause, and then you can hear the barest hint of a smile in his voice. “You gonna need me to sit down for that?”

You shy. “You don’t have to—”

“No.” He backs up, squeezing your upper arms fondly. “That sounds nice, sweetheart, thank you.” He moves just out of the spray and folds his legs under him, a surety about his movements—even on the slippery bottom of the tub—that you envy.

“Don’t thank me yet,” you tease. “Let me know if I catch a tangle or anything, okay?”

“Mhm.” He closes his eyes as you tunnel your fingers into his hair, one big hand reaching back to the closest thing he can reach—your foot. If he weren’t having a hard day, you’d have to shriek and shake him off, but for now you try to take it as the affectionate gesture he intends.

You start at the nape of his neck, fanning out your fingers and pressing the tips gently into his scalp. James’ hair is deceptively soft, not fluffy but velvety, each strand thick and smooth under your touch. He’s had it cut recently, so even weighted down with the water and shampoo, it curls just above his ears. You scratch your nails lightly over his scalp, and James sighs, leaning into your touch.

“Really giving me the princess treatment, huh?”

“You’d make a great princess,” you say, bending over him to press a light kiss between his brows.

His eyes open, water clumping his lashes, and he smiles at you. That ache in your chest retreats slightly, warmth filling in the gaps. “M’not complaining.”

You return his smile, though perhaps yours is a bit smaller. “Want to talk about it?” you ask lightly, your shampoo-slick hands migrating south to massage his neck and shoulders.

James groans, rolling his big shoulders and closing his eyes again. “Not really. This is so much better.”

You grin even though he can’t see, working your thumbs into the twin muscles on either side of his neck. Bubbles spread across his tawny skin and run down his back in clusters, disappearing down the drain. “Okay,” you promise him. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I put some of the good hot chocolate to simmer on the stove just in case.”

This time his smile comes like a slow sunrise, spreading across his face golden and beautiful. “Angel, you’ve read my mind.”

858 notes · View notes

coffeebeanwriting · 1 year

Text

Some Quick Dialogue Tips

1) Reveal character through dialogue. When a character is speaking, it can reveal a lot about them as a person. Is their word choice careful and kind, or do they speak unfiltered and sarcastically? Are they withholding information willingly? Do they have mannerisms when speaking? The way a character talks and how they say the words can reveal how they’re feeling.

2) Balance dialogue with action and narration. Your scenes should contain a mixture of dialogue, action, narration, etc. If you have long conversations of dialogue, make sure to add in some actions, descriptions, and inner thoughts... too much constant dialogue with nothing else in between can mess with the pacing of your story.

3) Assign a voice to each character. Everyone in your daily life has a different way of speaking. The timid people, the bubbly people, the confident people, the deceptive people. Don’t go overboard with it, but giving your characters a distinctive way of talking will make the conversation feel more real.

4) Keep it natural. When conversing, people don’t typically use intricate vocabulary (unless that’s part of your character’s personality) nor do they speak non-stop for five minutes. When people are mad, they can be very short with one another-- or rant and rave beyond control. Humans pause when thinking, can forget their line of thought, and even stagger over their words. When in doubt, just think about how you and your friends/family talk to one another.

5) Read it out loud. If you have a hard time speaking a line of dialogue, chances are it might be too wordy or complicated. If it doesn’t sound organic when you speak it, it won’t sound natural on the page.

6) Use dialogue to push the plot forward. You’ll hear it time and time again-- everything in your story should progress the plot. Dialogue is a wonderful place to do that. Your characters can find out information/secrets that are vital to the plot through conversation. Character development can also happen when your protagonist opens up or vents.

7) Your characters don’t always have to tell the truth. In real life, we don’t mean everything we say (whether this is deliberate or not). When a coworker asks you how you are, you probably default to “I’m fine” even if you’re not. Through action tags and narrative, you can create an organic conversation by having your character not always say the exact truth (but their actions say otherwise).

Ben and Cassie ducked their heads as bullets ripped through the air around them. A huge blast knocked them to the ground. “Shit! There’s is gunfire everywhere, you good Cassie?” “I’m good! The blast missed me.” Cassie held her side tightly and grimaced at her fellow medic. When he turned away, she tripped her way towards the wounded children who needed her help, each step causing blood to soak her hand.

By not saying the exact truth here, we learn through her actions that Cassie is caring and selfless.

Instagram: coffeebeanwriting

1K notes · View notes

wanderersbell · 2 years

Text

in the safety of your arms, he can exist.

wanderer x reader

summary: when the past comes to haunt him in his sleep and he wakes up in a panic, there's an unspoken agreement that you leave him be and never speak of it moving forward. however, he can only pretend for so long.

genre: angst/comfort, fluff warnings: descriptive nightmare word count: 1,347

a/n: i'm back with more fluff ╰ (´꒳`) ╯ this one's kinda dark, not sure if nightmares should be a warning but figured i'd add it just in case. enjoy!

every now and then when he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep, it feels like he’s there again. surrounded by raging flames in the middle of a small burning house with danger closing in and despair bubbling under his skin, forced to face a reality he never wanted to be a part of.

those words that had once given him another sliver of hope,

“but what if… hearts can be born from ashes?”

faded away in a storm of ash and soot, fueled by the bitter flames of deception.

why him?

what did he do to deserve this?

why won’t anyone just stay with him?

he drops to his knees with a wretched sob, vision swimming with tears that fall from his eyes with practiced ease. in the distance the sounds of familiar voices grow louder as they approach, cackling and chanting while the puppet digs his nails into the ground.

he can pick out every individual voice, can practically see their faces as they antagonize him from every direction. the one who abandoned him, the one who feared him, the one who lied to him, the one who tricked him. they all smile and laugh as their detached heads dance around him in a maddening show of victory, as if they’re celebrating the way he curls up and frantically covers his ears.

let me out.

they inch closer, he can feel their breath against his skin every time they open their mouths.

let me out let me out let me out.

the one who tricked him suddenly grows a twisted, clawed arm that starts reaching towards him, hand outstretched aiming right for his chest.

LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUT-

he jolts awake and lurches forward with a gasp, arms immediately wrapping around himself as he quivers in fear and waits for the hand to grab him.

one.

two.

three seconds pass before he realizes the voices are gone, the roaring sound of flames replaced by a dead silent room accompanied only by the sound of soft breathing somewhere next to him.

he slowly lifts his head to peer over his shoulder and ends up meeting your eyes from where you were sat scribbling away into a journal before he suddenly sat up. you acknowledge each other, and there’s poorly hidden concern all over your face, but no words are spoken and you shortly go back to what you were doing before, the way he demanded you to the first time this happened. it was just a senseless nightmare, he doesn’t want nor need your worry or pity.

he tries focusing his attention on objects around the room, willing his limbs to stop shaking so hard he can barely keep a grip on himself, but that feeling won’t go away. he can still feel multiple pairs of eyes staring through him, hear whispers of their elated mockery in the air. but no matter how hard he tries, minutes pass by and a lump starts forming in his throat with each ticking second.

he can tell you’ve noticed this when he hears the sound of your quill against the paper slow to a stop, knows you’re looking in his direction, but he keeps his head tucked down into his knees and bites his tongue against the way he’s about to fall apart at the seams.

“hey,” you call out softly. the sound of your voice rings clearly in the silence and tears immediately start gathering in his eyes at your gentle tone.

on the other side of the room, you’re fidgeting with the pen in your hand and trying to carefully select your next choice of words as to not worsen the situation. he looks so lonely, so afraid all curled in on himself while using every last bit of his willpower to keep it together, and you are so, so tired of seeing him suffer.

“are you…okay?”

three words, and the dam breaks. when he slowly lifts his head to face you there are tears streaming freely down his cheeks in fat droplets and a remorseful look on his face. not towards you, but towards his own weakness and the way he failed to keep it under control over nothing more than a measly nightmare.

your eyes soften immediately at the sight and you’re up from your seat in an instant, silently crossing the room while the wanderer glares at you through his blurry vision. he tenses up as you hesitantly sit next to him with your hands clutched tightly together in your lap, wanting so badly to help but not wanting to cross a boundary while he’s in such a vulnerable state.

you both stare at each other silently for a few seconds before you finally speak up, voice coming out as an unsure whisper. “do you wanna talk about it?”

he bites his lip and shakes his head, a movement so slight you only managed to catch it because of the moonlight peeking in through the window behind him, and nod your head wordlessly in response. he’s still shaking, you can feel it under the shabby mattress you’ve been calling a bed, and your hands start reaching towards him before you can even register the decision to do so.

you only managed to lift them a few inches before there’s a sharp intake of breath and he curls in on himself impossibly tighter, seeing a flash of the jagged hand that had been reaching out to grab him before he had woken up. you freeze and quickly bring them back to your lap as guilt rushes through you. “sorry! i’m sorry, i-“

you cut off your apology when he says something, so quiet and muffled that you can’t catch a single bit of it.

“what?” you whisper softly, meeting his eyes again as he slightly unfurls from himself.

“please,” he repeats himself louder this time. there’s a heart wrenchingly desperate sort of look in his gaze has you instantly forgetting all of your previous awkwardness as you lift your hands again and hook them around his body to pull him into your embrace. he looks furious, uncomfortable, and anxious all at once, but in the end the grief he’s remembering so vividly overpowers everything else and he lets you tuck his head into your neck with a defeated sob.

his arms finally unwrap themselves from around his knees and he immediately clutches onto your shirt for dear life as you hold him. he really is trembling like a leaf, body so tightly wound that he feels almost entirely solid against you. on instinct you start absentmindedly running a hand through his hair in a comforting manner as his tears dampen your shirt, yet he makes not a single sound as he cries silently in your arms.

“shhhh,” you whisper gently, tightening your hold on him a fraction as the situation starts to catch up with you and you feel tears start to prick your own eyes. “you’re okay, it’s okay. everything is fine.”

with the rhythmic feeling of your fingers against his scalp and your steady heartbeat to fill the silence of his racing mind, his shaking eventually slows to a stop and his tears finally run dry as you continue to hold him and coo soft reassurances every now and then until your eyes are starting to slip closed with fatigue.

he knows he should be embarrassed, ashamed, angry, and so many other things, but in the safety of your arms he can’t bring himself to fight the lull of your steady presence, so instead he mutters a weak and exhausted, “don’t leave me.” into your shirt. he didn’t intend for you to hear but, of course, you did, and like it’s the most obvious and casual thing ever respond with an equally as quiet, “okay.”

this time, when his eyes slip shut and he falls into unconsciousness again, the past leaves him alone. in the safety of your arms, nothing tries to haunt him. nothing holds him back.

in the safety of your arms, he can exist.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #my writing

2K notes · View notes

ornii · 1 year

Note

If it's not too much to ask... How about a Wednesday x Male!Reader where they cuddle for the first time??

Bonus points if Wednesday takes on a more dominant role in their cuddle session dhdjshdjd

I Like That Idea, and since people also want more of a Venom X Wednesday, i decided to eat two bodies with one venom.

Living with this, other half was a bothersome sort. A symbiotic virus consuming all who cross Venom. What made it hard was telling Enid, well you hadn’t planned on doing that it sort of just, happened. But you had to tell Wednesday, she’s your best friend! Well you consider her your best friend. She most likely views you as a nuisance. But you had to tell her. Nearing the end of your Mythology class, you made an effort to find Wednesday and tell her the harrowing truth.

It wasn’t particularly hard to find her, lingering in the shadows of her bedroom. You knocked gently at the door and awaited a response.

“I can detect a faint heartbeat! Death lingers in the room!” Venom spoke into your mind.

“Oh, well Wednesday is definitely inside then…” you said, faintly you can hear the words “enter.” Coming from beyond the door, you take a deep breath and grip the knob and enter. Stepping into the girls dormitory was obviously a tense situation, not wanting to seem off at some creep but this was extreme circumstances. Your eyes traced along the room, first to Enids side, which was bright and bubbly as you could be, flashes of Pink, Stuffed animals, Boy Bands, your typical modern gal stuff, but hints of steak lingers in your nose, definitely the werewolf part. Your eyes head right to the dark and dreary side that is Wednesday, the lack of color, the almost sapping aura, it screamed into the voice, “take me sweet death.” You catch the desk in your vision and see the raven haired demon typing at her desk.

What Wednesday lacked, an emotions, moral alignment, sometimes a pulse, was her cold and callous genius. She had a natural beauty that requires no Make up, no flashy clothes, just pure genetic beauty, and as dreadful as she can be at her emotions she was absolutely captivating. You thought she was captivating, breathtaking, beautiful… you never knew how Wednesday felt about you, she always kept a reserved stance on her emotions and displays of affection and intimacy. While you didn’t particularly mind, it was hard to tell if she was angry or just dead on the inside sometimes.

“Wednesday.” You begin, not really sure how to begin this.

“(Y/n), You know how I feel about my writing time.. and hour—“

“Without interruption, I know.. but this is, well I need to tell you something.” You barely utter, “it’s… urgent.” She stops typing hearing this, and turns to face you. Her Crepuscular beauty always took your breath away. You take a deep breath and try to explain.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to show you, to tell you, I just never really knew how to…” you say, the slowly intrigue of Wednesday began to show and she began to buckle under her own dreary curiosity.

“Speak then.” She replies, and you take a seat and sit on the edge of her bed. Her eyes were so, intimidating, sometimes it was hard to even get a glimpse of her.

“I never told you why I was in Nevermore, or what I’m considered different enough to go.. it’s because I… I’m a host for my Symbiotic.” You say, Wednesdays eyes kept on your face, as if she’s scanning for any lies or forms of deception.

“You see annoyingly normal for my standard.” She says, “What is this “Symbiotic?” She asks, you slowly rose up and closed your eyes, Wednesday watches as suddenly your body began to ooze a deep black, sludge like liquid from parts of his body, slowly encapsulating his entire body, Wednesdays face went from unamused to pleasantly stunned. What stood before her now was a hulking mass of darkness, some dreary parasite. The head of the monster opens up, revealing Your veiny, corroded face.

“Is this too much?” You ask, Wednesday didn’t know what to say for a moment.

“What, what are you? Are you even human?” She asks, you slowly transform back.

“Obviously, I just have this, thing.”

“I am not a thing!”

“Who unfortunately has a mind of its own.” You say.

“… who else knows about this?” She asks you, and you awkwardly fiddle around.

“Principal Weems… and. Enid.” You say, which makes Wednesday scowl.

“You told Enid before me?” She says accusingly.

“No! He told her before I could.” You say, suddenly your hand darkens, lifts itself up, as it transforms into the face of Venom.

“I wanted to eat her! I had no intention to revel ourselves!” He yells, Wednesday looks at the hand, a mix of disgust and, amusement.

“So you were not lying, it is alive.”

“Yes I am pretty one! I bet your liver tastes exquisite!”

“Ignore that comment, he says that to everyone.” You shake your hand, letting him lose control and going back to normal. You sigh and clasp your hands together sadly.

“I.. I apologize for not telling you…” you say, “there’s no easy way to ease a woman into telling them that I have a cannibalistic parasite living inside me.” You explain.

“Do not fret, I expected to say you listed to country music, that would have been a real horror.”

“.. have I ever told you how amazing you are.” You say trying not to laugh at that, Wednesday calmly, and somewhat reluctantly sat next to you. Being a bit stuff, she was never this close to another person let alone a man not related to her.

“I have no right to judge what information you disclose… but I do appreciate you telling me. Now if I have a body to dispose of, I’ll know who to bring it to.” She said.

“I like her!” Venom yells.

“Me too..” you say under your breath, Wednesday took the leap, doing something so, daring. You felt a cold clasp on the top of your hand, Wednesday placed her hand on top of yours. You didn’t know what to say, you looked at Wednesday who kept looking forward, you could make out just the slightest hint of red under her cheeks. You didn’t hesitate, letting the symbiote slowly take over her hand, this actually brought Wednesday comfort, the cold slimy feeling of death on her cold unfeeling hand. A perfect combination, she decided to take one last risk, gently placing her head on your shoulder, it was again stiff and cold. A symbiotic arm crept around her body into a soft hug. It was a perfect serene moment, a parasitic, symbiotic, love.

“… I still despise the fact you told Enid first.”

“I doubt she would have said anything…”

“… still.”

#netflix #wednesday #male reader #wednesday addams x male reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #reader insert #wedensday x you

275 notes · View notes

nexysworld · 1 year

Text

Distractions of the Mind

Read on AO3 🖤 Requests are Open 🖤Fic/Request Master List Summary: @daddykomeada suggested doing a Heimdall version of my Leon fic where the reader gets caught having wet dreams, and I thought that is a great idea! Pairing: Heimdall x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, Smut, Oral Fem Receiving, Heimdall is Heimdall, slightly dubcon, sexsomnia, not proof read. Word Count: 1.8k

You’d hoped the God of Foresight hadn’t caught on to your behavior. I mean, he shouldn't, right? A lot of people avoid Heimdall, it’s not like he was known for being fun to be around. But you did tend to the animals, especially Gulltoppr, being one of the only people the animal seemed to approve of besides Heimdall himself. That fact meant you spent more time with Heimdall than anyone else of your station. But still, you were nothing but a servant to Asgard, surely he wouldn’t really notice or care, right? It wasn’t anything Heimdall had done that caused you to flee. Strangely Heimdall and you seemed to get along, if you could call it that, during your brief interactions. No it was your own imagination wreaking havoc on you that made you avoid him like the plague. For nearly two weeks straight every time you closed your eyes all you saw was him. It started with innocent things like small talk, brief touches, soft kisses. Things that were easy to not think about in the daylight hours. But then your unconscious mind would take things up a notch. Soon you were picturing what he’d look like under all those layers of metal and cloth; strong, lean muscles, a trail of dusty blonde hair ghosting from his belly button down towards – stop. As your dreams got worse, every morning you’d wake with your hand stuffed into your slick-wet and sticky undergarments, with feelings of shame.

That was the exact reason you couldn’t be anywhere near him. The second you even heard his name those feelings would bubble up inside you and instantly your mind would drift back to those very inappropriate dreams. You weren’t sure how far his Foresight or mind reading extended, but you weren’t planning on finding out, not being able to bear the thought of him seeing himself in your mind like that. What would you even say to him? What could you even say? Surely you weren’t the first person to ever think of bedding a God, but c’mon it was Heimdall.

So that left you where you were now. Switching jobs with another servant, ducking out of buildings, avoiding any place Heimdall even might inhabit for any amount of time. Your hope was that distance would make the dreams stop and eventually you could go back to handling animals like you loved.

Unfortunately for you Heimdall had noticed, but probably not for the reason you would think.

Heimdall could almost admit to himself that maybe he liked the interactions he had with you. Maybe. You were witty, kept up with his tongue, but knew better to not push enough to offend. More importantly he never felt any deception in you. There weren’t many people like that, not that he’d ever say those compliments out loud. Despite those things, what had actually gotten him to notice your absence was that Gulltoppr missed you. The beast was not playing nice with any of the other servants. He couldn’t keep track of the number of nervous people who’d requested his assistance to calm the beast back down. He was sick of having his own work interrupted when there was no good reason for it.

He immediately demanded that you return to the stables, but Sif had denied him. Apparently you were too busy doing anything but tending to the animals. That’s when he decided he didn’t care. If you couldn’t assist during the work day, then consider your free time as belonging to him now. Heimdall’s back up plan had not been going well with you becoming obnoxiously hard to find. It was like you were a ghost – he would have to extend his powers to see glimpses of you in others’ minds just to try and locate you. He was not happy about that in the slightest, consider yourself now officially on his bad side – and one thing no one ever wanted was to be on Heimdall’s bad side. Not that he had a good one.

Too stubborn to give up on his quest and itching to take out his frustrations on you, he decided to switch up tactics. He waited until the moon was high enough that he was sure everyone in the female servant’s quarters was asleep before making his way inside. His plan was to drag you outside for a good verbal lashing before sending you to the stables.

He remained quiet, not wanting to wake anyone else. While he didn’t care much what people thought of him, he didn’t feel like being bogged down with constant thoughts and rumors of himself being a pervert, sneaking into the female's room in the middle of the night. Continuing to make his way by each bed, he could tell who was who by their thoughts, what they were dreaming about. Next. Not you. Still not you. Next. Oh.

Heimdall stopped in his tracks, finding you by the back corner of the room, separated off from most of the others. There you were, hand in your underwear, soft whimpers escaping your lips. He focused his eyes on you, letting himself slip into your head to see. Heimdall didn’t consider himself a prude by any means but – “Oh you naughty, naughty girl.” He whispered to himself. He could venture to guess why you’d made yourself scarce now. He exited your mind so he could better focus on your physical form, the moonlight shining in through the window illuminating your face. He wasn’t typically one for these late night dalliances, but if fixing this little problem would lead to you getting back to where he needed you to be, then so be it. Heimdall reached down, shaking you gently by the shoulder. The second your eyes were opened his hand was clamped over your mouth. “Shush, unless you want to wake the whole room.” The shock of the situation had been so great you had to wait for your brain to fully catch up to what was happening. As soon as it did, you were mortified when you realized not only was your hand still stuffed into your panties but Heimdall most definitely had seen what was on your mind. “Do not.” He said, giving you a warning as he removed his hand from your mouth. “Stay quiet. Not a word.” You weren’t fully sure what he was talking about until he’d walked to the end of the bed, yanking you to the end by your ankles, before hiking your dress up and pulling your underwear down. You barely had the time to process what he’d done until the cold air made contact with your slick and needy cunt. The feeling caused you to let out a small gasp, which earned you a warning look. You couldn’t see his face too well in the shallow light, but you could definitely see the glowing bifrost orbs staring back at you. The situation had thrown you for a loop but now you were awake enough to feel the full embarrassment of what was going on. Wait he’s not going to– “Don’t get too far ahead of yourself. You’re not getting that lucky this evening.” He responded to your internal dialogue with an annoyed whisper. It was obvious you were confused considering he was just standing there while you were laid out on your back, legs open, exposed, nothing happening. You could see him roll his eyes before he knelt down between your legs, hooking each one over his shoulder.

Oh.Now you understand. Heimdall started by teasing the inside of your thighs with small kisses and flicks of his tongue. Each small touch sent little shocks of tingling pleasure straight to your core, adding to the slick that was already pooling onto your sheets.

As he worked his mouth higher, he’d begin to nip and suck bruises into your skin before soothing them by circling his tongue over the purpled flesh. You wanted to make noise so badly, it was taking everything inside you to keep quiet and he hadn’t even begun to attack the throbbing ache of your clit.

Despite his own words telling you to shush, Heimdall couldn’t keep his own mouth shut, though he’d speak in low whispers. “Look at how excited you are and I haven’t even touched you there. Are you sure you’re a servant of Asgard and not just a common whore?” His words sent another jolt of heat between your legs. You wanted to argue, say something back, but your brain wasn’t functioning well enough for that. Finally he darted his tongue out licking lazily up and down your weeping slit. Each time the tip of his tongue came in contact with your sensitive clit you’d involuntarily try to buck into him for more friction, his arms keeping you trapped in place like a vice. It felt so good. Shocks of pleasure radiating from your core down to your toes. Your ability to keep yourself quiet had dissipated leaving you no choice but to clamp your hands over your mouth to keep it in, but not before a small whimper escaped. “I bet you’d love to get caught right now, wouldn’t you. Have all the servants watch with envy while your slick dribbles down my chin? Want them to think you’re so special for bringing the untouchable God to his knees?” You were about to tell him he was wrong but that thought stopped dead in its tracks when his tongue was shoved into your hole, nose now prodding at your clit giving tingling jolts while he worked himself in and out. The sensation had your eyes rolling back, still trying fruitlessly to move under his grip. You wanted so badly to reach down and grab fistfulls of those neatly braided locks. “Don’t even try it.” He threatened before diving back down to continue. You were so very close, the heat in your stomach twisting so tight it was about to snap - Heimdall didn’t need his foresight to see that given your reactions thus far. He switched up movements and alternated between sucking on your clit before lapping at it with the flat of his tongue. Only a few seconds later and you arched your back with a choked sob into your hands, the heat in your core unraveling and spreading throughout your body into a toe-curling orgasm. Heimdall gave a few more small licks to your overstimulated clit, amused by the reaction he received before standing up and dropping your legs down. He used the sleeve of his tunic to wipe your juices off of his face. “Tomorrow evening, stables.” Was all he stated before turning heel and walking out of the room. You were left with whiplash not quite believing that had actually just happened. Surely this was just another dream and not wanting to argue with your own sleepy mind, you decided to lay back and close your eyes. But as evidenced by the giant wet spot on the bed, clearly visible in the morning sunlight when you awoke, it was certainly not a dream.

#Heimdall #God of War Heimdall #gow Heimdall #Heimdall x Reader #Heimdall x You #Heimdall x Y/N #God of War #God of War Ragnarok #God of War Fanfiction #Fanfiction #Reader Insert #Fem!Reader #Female Reader #Requests #Requests are open

134 notes · View notes

izzabeean · 1 year

Text

Chapter 17: Late Night

pairing : fushiguro toji x fem!reader

warnings/tags : 18+, alternate universe - office, eventual romance, explicit language, depressive thoughts.

genre : angst + fluff + smut

word count : 2,071

18+ minors dni!!!

masterlist | << prev | ch. 17 | next >>

He exhales a long breath, an attempt to compose his racing thoughts.

This kind of feeling never really sticks with Toji, he always finds a way to ignore and push it down. But the thinking will not stop, instead, an endless stir of disappointment and distress burns at the forefront of his brain. It’s not because he pitties himself or believes he doesn't deserve this agony, he knows he's never deserved any happiness. It’s because he once again has lost to someone. Though this time is worse because he's lost to someone vile.

How could a man like Gojo attract someone like you? He thought you were smarter than that, but he recalls having the exact same conversation with himself when he found out about your fling with Kaito. Your judgment of men needs some work. Frankly, Toji’s assumption of you always seems to fall short of reality.

You’re not who he thought you are and that’s his punishment.

He’s always held you up to this fantasy because he thought you were different. You challenged him, always had something to say, and most definitely played hard to get. But with those characteristics come consequences which Toji has now paid for. An obsession with you and trying to get to know you slipped so perfectly into his daily routine only making it more bitter. The old life he once knew and grew accustomed to now seems so bleak and foreign.

Money… From a stable income to minimum wage that barely gets him by.

Drinking… He can rely on whiskey, but it’s so much less stimulating than it used to be.

Fucking… There’s no fucking because he can’t even look a woman in the eye without thinking about you .

Sleeping… And he can completely forget about that since he spends most of the night tossing and turning resulting in staying up until his body shuts down.

He absently fiddles with the keys in his pants pocket, trying to point his attention to something other than the discomfort from his thoughts. It’s his fifth night in a row working the midnight shift at the shop and it’s funny how he thought these shifts might help distract him. Very quickly he realized nothing could stop him from thinking about you.

He can’t get your face out of his mind from that night. It replays over and over again, haunting every waking moment. Your admission. Your aggression. Your loss for words. He caught you in your deepest darkest secret and yet he feels this guilt. What is this uncertainty bubbling in his chest? What is this emptiness he’s drowning in?

“I can’t give you everything.”

Toji remembers the other evening in the shop. Your voice was so incredibly bitter. The catalyst to your actions seems so much deadlier than he ever anticipated. The way your eyes locked on anything else other than him. The way you bit your lip as if to stop yourself from saying anything more. The way you cross your arms against your chest as if to shut out the emotions ill-disguised in your stance.

“Not just yet.”

What does that even mean beyond the tangible truth?

Inhaling deeply, he recognizes your deception, shifting his gaze to the clock at the front of the shop. Only an hour left until his shift ends. There’s a slight tinge of hope you will walk through the door, though Toji believes he won’t ever see you again.

As Toji lunges through the doors, he makes haste while his body temperature instantly drops from the crisp air. With a shiver he hoists the bags into the bin, wiping his hands on his uniform after disposing them. He’s barely been outside for a minute, but the cold starts to nip at his exposed skin. The sensation washes over him, grounding himself in the moment as it wicks away any body heat.

Looking up at the dark sky, his breath puffs and rises into the night. It’s been a long evening and tomorrow will undoubtedly be another long day, yet, there’s this feeling of peace looking up there. The shining crescent moon beams above with a trickle of scarcely visible stars from the glow of the city lights. The darkness feels infinite, stretching across the city in a cloak of shadows where the light doesn’t touch. Where a lot of people may find fear, Toji finds comfort for he has a lot in common with the night: an all encompassing darkness, a hindrance to physical sensations, the farewell of safety and the essence of danger.

He stares up at the sky wishing to fade into it.

He resists the urge to fall fast into rage and confusion, hoping the numbing of winter weather will do the trick because it’s the only thing keeping him from sinking back into the person he is destined to be.

A failure.

“Finally a job that suits,” A familiar voice calls out. Toji looks behind him to see Gojo standing in the shadows sneering, giving a snicker suspiciously light.

“You stalking me?” Toji snorts an irritated breath out of his nose.

“Funny you’d think I have time for that,” Gojo replies.

Gojo’s voice heats a rage in Toji. There’s something so frustrating about loosing to a guy like Gojo, though it’s plain to him at the moment there was never really any competition – Gojo had won from the start. Someone so smug and so full of himself, it absolutely disgusted Toji.

“The fuck you want? Toji's irritation doesn't hide in his words.

“Who says I want anything?” Gojo shrugs, dismissive. “Just out for a stroll.”

Strange to think Gojo would wander to this part of the city, especially since his only reason to be in the area would be because of you. And it almost as if Gojo is looking for you, wondering if you’re with Toji. It crosses Toji’s mind that you maybe ran away, or most likely off fucking some other guy… Most likely ran back to Kaito or something along those lines. Still, it’s very peculiar that you’d disappear all of a sudden from Gojo when in fact all Toji has noted from your interactions is the exact opposite as how you’ve been with him. You’re always shutting down or running off without any explanation. Just when he thinks you’ve moved forward with him, it’s always back to the beginning once again.

“Are you going to fucking make me repeat myself?”

“Hm?” Gojo responds, matter-of-factly.

Toji narrows his eyes.

“You’re no fun.” There's a sour tinge that colors Gojo’s tone. He draws out a long sigh. “You've seen Y/N?”

The sound of your name is jarring, leaving Toji stunned. “She’s not here.”

Gojo eyes Toji curiously. “You know, lying doesn’t really get you anywhere.”

“I’m not lying.” Toji glances towards the sky, hoping he can just be absorbed by the darkness. He takes a steadying breath, his first instinct is to snap back, he knows Gojo will not believe anything he says. But, Toji can't bring himself to, not tonight. “We don’t see each other anymore.”

When Toji looks back at Gojo, he’s immediately met with Gojo’s gaze filled with fury.

“Are you sure?” Gojo confirms, but to Toji, it only sounds like Gojo doesn’t know what else to say.

“Yes.” Toji’s voice sounds flat.

The silence pulls at each man while Toji watches the muscle in Gojo’s jaw clench. Gojo takes a step, backing away from Toji.

“If you’re hiding her…” Gojo trails off as he takes another step, letting Toji’s imagination fill in the gaps of the rest of the sentence.

Toji gives Gojo a dirty look before he turns his back heading off into the night. Toji watches until Gojo is out of sight.

Fuck – it’s bothering him. He wonders where you could be, wonders if you’re even thinking about the last interaction. Of course, Toji is getting ahead of himself. It’s not like you’d care, you never have, you were always just pretending. It’s not quite thrilling anymore, knowing that you’re married to that guy – someone worse than Kaito and Toji never thought that could be possible.

As Toji heads back inside to change out of his uniform into his normal clothes, he feels more awake and alarmed than he thought he could ever be. His usual plan to go home after his shift seemed to be even more unappealing than usual, so he decides to take a long walk instead of returning to an empty apartment.

It’s 3AM, after a 10 hour shift, he finds the energy in him to drag his feet down the street without a destination in mind. He’s careful in his strides noticing the city seems quieter than usual. It’s as if the entire world is asleep and he’s afraid any noise he makes will wake everyone.

In the near distance, the sound of a car engine fills the void as if to remind him he isn’t alone. Though in the dead of night, he only feels more numb to the sensations of reality. Nothing has ever really gone his way, but why does this feel like the end? Why does the universe seem to have the patience for everyone else but himself? What did he do to deserve this life?

He feels himself start to spiral. It’s different this time. An aching fills his chest, as if something is screaming at him to be one with the night. The constant pain and pressure to live kills him every day just a little bit more. Especially when what was once his light turned into darkness that overshadows every moment. He was only fueled with nightmares that numbed him with every new shock. Had he reached his limit?

The car's revving grows louder, nearing towards Toji. His mind goes blank while his heart starts to race trying to make sense of his existence. No one would care and no one would miss him.

He starts towards the edge of the sidewalk looking down at the street. He clenches his fists so tightly his knuckles turn white, sending chills of dread down his spine. All he had to do was step out and all this pain will be over. He hesitates, looking up to see how much time he has left.

But his thoughts are cut when he notices the headlights from the car illuminate the silhouette of a woman in the middle of the street. Without much thought, Toji rushes onto the street – something about this moment overtakes him. The car lights get brighter, blurring his vision as he takes ahold of the woman's wrist, yanking her with all his strength to the side of the road. Her body falls into his frame bringing him off balance from the surprise and they fall to the ground. His body hits the icy concrete bracing her fall.

“The fuck are you doing?” Toji yells over the car's horn which seems to echo in the silence. When she looks up immediately he recognizes your teary-eyed face. Toji freezes unable to utter another word. He barely recognized you and didn't even think he'd be saving your life.

The shock has got to you as your stare at him with quivering lips. There is something cold and lost in your eyes as Toji gazes into them. It's somewhere no true warmth and empathy can reach. A sob rises in your throat before you cry in exasperation as if your soul was bleeding an ocean through your eyes. Your face is clouded with a mixture of disapproval and disappointment as Toji wraps his arms around you. In that moment you surrender your body that’s shaking with grief.

As he lays on the street looking up at the night sky, he notices the a light flurries start to fall. The air stung his cheeks as he looked around and notices snow beginning to cover the sidewalk. Toji doesn’t know what to say as he listens to you weep. It crosses his mind that he needs to get you up and into a warmer place, but he finds his body unusually still not wanting to move.

“Sorry.” Your voice cracks.

Toji doesn’t say anything holding you in tighter. He can’t process the events, even as you both lie on the sidewalk. He’s never thought you would ever get to that point in your life, especially when you have everything you could ever want.

However, once again he’s completely misjudged you.

masterlist | << prev | ch. 17 | next >>

tags: @brumous11 @cosmotoic @slurptheskinoffshiggysfatdick @gojosoath @miraes-world @almondespresso @kekwmdkem @misslili265 @m00dycr4nkybitc @t4naiis

104 notes · View notes

spacedykez · 2 years

Text

phantoms are ghost stories, tales told by villagers to their children. if you don't sleep, the phantoms will get you! they're spooky tales around a campfire, a group of friends laughing and taunting each other: ooh, you're going to be eaten by the big bad phantom! they are mischief, random items suddenly "floating" when really, it's just your local phantom having a touch of fun.

elytrians are legends. it's hard to believe the bright-eyed, feather-winged creatures who roam sun-kissed forests and blooming meadows and soar carefree through azure skies are the same creatures who came from the cold, dark End. but the end is vast and open, with lots of space to fly, so really it makes sense.

avians are the young, energetic children of the Elytrians. they are the tallest mountains and the widest meadows, the spaces closest to the sky. they are the bright-eyed and the carefree, those who run with the wind at their heels, ready to one day master it so that they may truly Fly. they are young and they are hope.

merlings are the beautiful, peaceful people who live just under the surface, scales shimmering in bright aqua water. they are gently-waving kelp fronds and bright rays of light filtering down through the waves. but they are also dangerous and cruel, their siren-songs luring you to a watery grave and leaving your final words to be lost as nothing but bubbles while their laughs ring impossibly in your ears.

blazebornes are fiery spirits, impulsive and stubborn. they are creatures of fire and they are the Nether's beloved creations. their abilities make for quite the show, but that's not all they're good for. they are quick to attack. they are always moving, like the flames from which they were born.

arachnids are masters of the night, the dark, the things that Crawl and Skitter in the deepest caves. they are mystery and shadow. they are the inevitable dark that comes with Light. they are the masters of agility. they are talent and they are deception and they are death.

felines are friends of the villagers. they are flowerfields and daylight and the Overworld and naive joy. they are lazing in the sunshine and leaping through the trees whose leaves are still but for a slight breeze. they are Joy personified. and they are loved.

endarians are the Ones who Embraced the Void. the Void called and they welcomed it into their hearts, letting it change them, warp them, make them what they are now. they are changed, but they are happy. the cold and the dark are Home to them now, and their Hearts are round orbs, pumping dark ender-purple blood through their veins. a touch of the void always lingers around them in the form of particles.

starbornes are the Sky, and the Stars, and they are the Night, but unlike the phantoms they are not playful death. they are longing, and they are loving. they came from the stars and to the stars they long to return. stars are lonely things, and so too are the starbornes.

#sun-kissed. i love that word.#origins smp #origins #minecraft origins #the otter splashes #yk what fuck it #the otter scribbles #...so we're all thinkin the same thing right. blazebornes are adhd-#yeah no i have this thing its called I Am A Blazeborne #also bees are like felines but flying and inchlings are just Bug. like all of these are cool and whatever and inchling is just. Yeah. Bug.#anyways. i fucking love origins

132 notes · View notes

sparrowhero · 2 years

Text

You are more than friends, not quite lovers– something indefinable in simple words. Hawks x Reader

Confidante Ch. 1

It’s always a little chilly in Hawks’ apartment. Maybe it was the several tall windows that surrounded the penthouse from all sides, or the fact that Hawks himself was just used to the brisk temperatures high above the clouds, but it was always hard to get up out from under one of his large, red wings and comfortable duvet in the morning. Today was no different– his wings were longer than he was tall when they were spread out, and one of the only ways he can sleep well is with his wings spread out and laying on his stomach. Like it or not, that meant you would be toasty right underneath, his arm (sometimes a leg too), slung over you like your own personal heating pad. You try to wiggle out from under him as gently as possible, but trying to do anything without him noticing is an exercise in futility. His wings twitch the moment you move, and the next second, his voice is almost directly in your ear.

“Mmm, hey. Mornin’.” He yawns, chin resting on your shoulder. His voice in the morning is deceptively low and scratchy from sleep, but you’re certain that he’s more awake than you are right now. “What’s the rush? Sun’s barely even up.” He tightens his arm around you childishly to keep you from leaving.

“We should at least pull back the curtains and let in some of that natural light you’re so proud of.” You reply back, pushing his face back playfully. He allows it, though he groans in a faux complaint that’s muffled by his face falling flat on the pillow once you properly sit up. You press the button on the remote control for the curtains, allowing them to slowly let the light flood into the space.

You had to hand it to him: the view was worth it. All of the city beneath you as well as the bright, vast blue of the sky above. Even though the morning light was blinding, once you blinked away most of the blurriness in your eyes, it was calming. It also helped that the large windows were tinted on the outside so no one could “accidentally” see you relaxing in bed with the number three hero in Japan.

Not that you were sleeping with him– well, not in that way, at least– but nobody would believe you

if they saw you nestled in bed with him the way you were before. The coffee maker bubbling away in the background, the sound of Hawks’ rhythmic breathing, and view of the city below make for a rare, peaceful morning.

You can feel his eyes on you, and soon enough, a fierce feather tickles your cheek as he reaches out his wing beckoningly.

“Come back to bed, I’m gettin’ lonely over here.”

You swat playfully at his wing, but he’s relentless. Next thing you know, he’s draped himself over your shoulders, wings and all. His bare chest presses against you, and you can feel the fluttering of his heart against your back. Even his heartbeat is fast, the steady rhythm is more familiar to you than your own at this point.

“You big baby.” You accuse, though you reach back behind you to stroke his messy hair.

“Yeah, maybe I am.” A low, rumbling laugh in your ear. “You know me: when I want something, I can’t help but reach out and get it.” His hands squeeze around your midsection just a little tighter, and he kisses you right on the junction of the shoulder and your neck. In response, you turn your head and press a kiss onto his cheek that slowly moves towards his lips.

To anyone looking in, they’d be convinced you were lovers. You two did love each other in your own ways, but you were not in love with each other. A relationship where you fulfilled each others’ need for trust, intimacy, and affection.

Plenty of people would kill to be in your place, but you’re not sure if they would be able to handle it if they weren’t the same kind of people that you and Hawks were.

It’s probably why you’re able to coexist like this. There’s no way he can hurt you, because you’re in love with somebody else. Maybe that’s why he acts so selfishly around you– he knows you’re only ever going to give what you want, and you don’t expect anything special from him. Even if all of this stopped tomorrow, nothing would change between the two of you. He would still be your good buddy Hawks, and vice versa.

The media would have a field day with that. He has to be ‘everyone’s Hawks.’ You remember him complaining about the head of the HPSC scolding him for getting too friendly with some up and coming celebrity a few months ago. They’d only just been seen exiting a restaurant together coincidentally (whether that was true or not, you honestly didn’t care), but he was put on probation and had to do extra work to keep his image up.

You wonder, idly, how much volunteer work he’d have to do if people found out about your arrangement. For starters, you’re not a big name hero in the slightest. Your friendship happened by chance– a work venture, then a couple of drinks, a few late-night talks, slowly progressing over the last year into whatever ‘this’ was now. Thinking back, while your meeting was a trick of fate, everything afterwards was probably of your own similarities. Sometimes people were drawn to their opposites, what they lacked, and avoided those who mirrored what they had. You just melted into each other in such a way that the boundaries between you slowly disappeared.

It’s why kissing him doesn’t make your heart race. Sure, it feels nice (Keigo is a good kisser, gentle and considerate) but it’s more like being wrapped in a blanket: something comfortable and safe. You’ve never felt the kind of hunger to kiss him the way you feel for…You still don’t want to think about that person right now.

He’s got that early morning fuzz that brushes your cheeks while he sighs against your lips, matching with the little beard that grows in patches on his chin. He sleeps bare chested, so the direct warmth from him siphons directly onto you. He shifts around on the bed so he can kiss you properly, only loosening his arms around you enough to allow you both to face each other on the bed. Once he has full access to you, he wraps himself around you once again, his wings extending outward as if to keep the light of the outside world away.

Hawks presses affectionate kisses onto your cheeks, gentle pecks like butterfly wings scattered about your face. He seems to enjoy the ticklish feeling they give you, refusing to let you wiggle out as he continues them down your neck and eventually blowing a raspberry on the junction between your head and shoulders. You can’t help but laugh, falling backwards on your back while Hawks takes advantage and hovers over you. He spends a moment to smile down at you with all of the fondness in the world before he kisses you like he means it. His tongue flicks teasingly against your lips, and his hands have somehow found themselves interlaced with yours against the bed. He’s all you can see right now, all you can feel. Part of you wishes he’d let go of your hands so you can hold him, but he’s clearly having too much fun to let that happen. You’d consider yourself lucky if he doesn’t go straight into tickling you for real this time.

“Better than getting up, yeah?” He asks, eyes crinkling into a smile. The hands that hold yours are incredibly gentle, caressing your skin. His hands are hard and callused, but god if they aren’t always so warm.

“It’s alright.” You tease, and he puts on an expression of mock hurt and surprise.

“I’ve been hunted, shot at, and bit by some of the baddest villains around, but they’ve got nothing on that mouth of yours.” He dramatically turns his head away for a moment, as if you had truly wounded him, before devilishly returning his gaze to you. “Guess I’ve gotta take care of it–”

His phone ringing stops that in its tracks, leaving you both to listen to the default tone and its accompanying vibrations on the side table. Hawks’ entire body stiffens, and as it goes through the second ring cycle, he knows he’s not going to be able to get out of not answering. He sighs and reluctantly reaches over you to go and pick up his phone.

“Hawks here…Yeah, sorry about that, I was just asleep.” He winks over at you, a silent apology as he gets off of the bed and walks towards the kitchen to continue his conversation. It had to have been something important.

“--No, no, I definitely wasn’t avoiding your call. Hawks’ honor.”

It’s incredibly hard to muffle the laugh that threatens to escape, but you succeed valiantly. Since he was probably going to hit the shower, you could get ready at a leisurely pace. You brushed your teeth and washed up while Hawks was in the shower that you still barely know how to use (Why are there so many nozzles? So many options? There was even a touch screen for music), and had a bowl of cereal waiting for him when he walked out in nearly full gear. Hawks has a nice kitchen for a guy who never steps foot in it outside of cooking instant ramen, but at least he keeps some staples stocked. It’s no full course meal, but at least he’ll have a bite before he flies off.

“You’re a lifesaver.” He praises as he slides into the seat across from you. Judging by the way he’s holding his mug, he’s already downed his first cup of the day. Hawks eats so quickly, you wonder if he can taste the food. It’s equal parts fascinating and kind of disgusting; you wonder if his fans would still be as crazy for him if they knew the kinds of food habits he has when no one is watching. Probably, if experience is any indication. “Thanks for the food! Don’t worry about the bed or dishes, leave whenever you want.” He reaches over and ruffles your hair before he leaves– literally jumping out one of his large windows. Another convenience offered to one of the most successful heroes in the business, you assume. You’re about to focus on your own meal when the sound of knocking on the windows alerts you. He’s still lingering, flapping his large, red wings outside. He makes the ‘phone’ hand gesture, and you grab your cell to call him.

“See you tonight?” His voice sounds scratchy and far away over the receiver, even though he's right there.

You wonder why he doesn’t just open the window again, but who could really tell just what goes on in that sandy blonde head of his.

“Not tonight, I’ve got work.” You answer in between bites of cereal. He frowns at you like a sad puppy from the tinted windows outside since he knows you can see him. “Hey, it may not be as illustrious as yours, but I have a hero career too.”

“Alright. I’ll call you later, see you when I see you?”

“See you when I see you. Now get going before you get yelled at.” Even though he couldn’t see you, you still made a shooing motion with your hand for him to fly off. The phone clicked off, and he was soon a bright red dot in the distance.

Now, time for you to start a truly daunting task. You take a long, lingering look at Hawks’ shower, a mix of emotions on your face.

Maybe today is the day you’ll learn how to work this thing without getting blasted or completely soaking his bathroom floor?

After somehow wrangling your way through Hawks’ overly complicated shower, you step onto the elevator with your overnight bag. One of the benefits of the building was privacy. Since Hawks’ apartment took the entire top floor and he had his own private elevator, it was easy enough to get in and out without looking suspicious. A secret so well-kept that even the doorman for the building didn’t know exactly where you ended up. For all they knew, you were just one of the many tenants in the building. You still waved politely at the doorman, who similarly smiled back, and checked to see if you had any texts on your way to work.

Your hero agency was small, located in the same prefecture as Hawks’. With as busy as he was around the country, there was no way even a guy like him could handle every little thing, so there were a lot of smaller agencies like yours scattered about. ‘Agency’ may have been a strong word since it encompassed you, your sidekick, your social media manager, and a tiny office rented out of a professional building, but it was yours.

“Good morning!” Your sidekick, Galligator, greets you, same as always, as you open the door to your office. Her long snout curls into a smile, scales immaculately shining in the fluorescent lighting.

“Good morning. Any messages?” You ask, dipping behind the screen to change into your hero costume.

“Tatsuki-san says that she may have an offer for a collaborative charity event with another hero here in Kyushu. She’s gonna go meet up with their manager today and hash out the details.” Lily, or as you know her, Galligator, chirps happily. You hired her when she was fresh out of school and boldly asked you to take a chance on her, and since then, she’d been by your side dutifully. As a mutant, she had an alligator quirk– fast in water, strong jaw, and even stronger hands– all beautifully maintained and her claw-like fingernails were always dutifully painted. You think that she could probably make it bigger, better at a larger agency, but she’s incredibly loyal to you.

‘I like the way you work.’ has always been her answer whenever you ask her if she’d like something more, a job reference to some of your more successful peers. “I really believe in us. We can do it!” Her enthusiasm is contagious when yours can tend to run dangerously low, so you couldn’t be thankful enough for her.

Most of the morning is devoted to catching up on any late paperwork or addendums to what’s previously been submitted. For bigger offices, you could leave that to a secretary, but it’s been divided between the two of you. Later on, you have a simple lunch and have a meeting with Tatsuki to discuss how to boost your image, and then the late afternoon and evening is devoted to patrolling the neighborhood and investigating any leads on current cases. According to the information that you and Lily have garnered, there’d been an influx of violent activity in the area around this time of night, so you’d go down there and have yourself a little sting operation.

“Uggghhh, I hate getting my hair wet.” She complained, putting her hair in the wet cap she used when diving. You chuckled at her– she sure was cute since it had a variety of pink stars on the top.

“You’re so brave, thank you for everything.” You praise her even as she huffs, diving underneath the water, now completely hidden by the dark of night. As for you, you hid yourself into the trees surrounding the water. The benefits of both of your quirks is that you were both very adept at camouflage. She absolutely disappeared in the water, and you were able to adopt the characteristics of whatever you were touching and “meld” with it. Right now, you were a tree, but if you really wanted, you could also sink into the loamy surface of the ground, but that was usually a last resort. The adopted physical aspects did help protect you from harm, but you have to be real: who wants to be dirty and stepped on?

Time goes by slowly in this state. You’re used to it; most of your training in school and internship was the grueling process of getting used to being in your melded form for long periods of time with no human contact. You can let your mind drift away to other places, able to be snapped back into the present at a moment’s notice. This late at night, most people around are either homeless and looking for a place to sleep, young couples trying to find a place to neck…and whatever allegedly was going to go down here. One hour passes. Two hours. At the third hour, you think that it may be a bust. Since you knew it was going to be a long night, the both of you had made extra sure to power nap in the afternoon, but it didn’t make the long day any easier. You hate to admit it, but you might have bit off more than you can chew

You’re a half second away from calling it a night when the air changes. Your senses, honed from years of hero work, prickle as you see a single figure walk down and take a seat on one of the rocks near the water. They’re completely covered in dark, nondescript clothing head to toe. They’re not too tall, and their figure is lean, but you can sense danger emanating from them despite their humble appearance.

This person is the one you’re waiting for. Lily attempts to swim closer, but as soon as she does, the figure whips to check the direction of the water. It sends a shiver down your spine. When she’s in the water, Lily is practically impossible to see or hear. One of the only reasons you’re able to pick her out right now is because of the years you’ve spent alongside her.

If their instincts were just that good…

You didn’t want to think about that. Just focus on whatever information you can gather. They moved too fast for you to get a proper look, unfortunately. Cursing the circumstances, you stare and strain your ears as much as possible when their apparent contact finally comes around. The guy who approaches is nothing compared to the first one— you can tell by his submissive body language that the guy sitting down is in charge.

“Haven’t…not yet…still looking.” You can just barely make out some words and phrases. It would help if the figure could turn your way— maybe you’d be able to hear him better. The wind is picking up, so maybe you could disguise your moving along the trees with it? You decide to take the risk, since these two seem a cut above the average criminal in your pay grade.

“Keep up the search.” The cloaked figure’s voice is detached, matching with their body language as they wave their underling away. “I expect results.” Results for what? They exchange something between them, something you recognize. You lean in just a bit more…

One of your leaves crack, and it’s all over. Whether he knows it or not, his bright blue eyes, illuminated by the flame, meet yours. You’re completely surrounded by a beautiful blue that blocks out almost your entire sight, and overwhelming heat. It doesn’t hurt, not yet. You have your outer shell to thank for it but you’d be lying if you didn’t have to rely on every single muscle in your body to keep from screaming as each second you were closer and closer to being burned.

His underling does it for you, jumping backwards and falling on his ass, demanding to know what the hell just happened?!

“I thought I felt someone watching me.” He replies easily. His arms once covered by his sleeve, reveal telltale purple scar tissue lined up against his pale skins. The staples— or maybe just simple piercings— glimmer in the moonlight. It feels like he’s looking directly at you, an unspoken challenge to drop the disguise and attempt to either get the fire out or beg for mercy. The skin on your arms and legs will be burnt and blistering red once you drop your quirk, but it’s better than being completely burnt alive. You can handle it.

You tell yourself that several times, grinding your teeth together to keep from screaming out. You’re strong.

“…guess I was just imagining things.” He shrugs, lightening the flames’ intensity and letting it burn out on its own. Noting his underling still on the ground, he callously nudges the man with his foot for him to get the fuck up already and get back to work. Not wanting to face the same fate you had, he scrambled to his feet and dashes away. The man watches him leave before adopting a leisurely pace the other direction. It feels like forever until he’s out of sight and you can finally drop your quirk.

You release with a loud exhale, throwing off the pieces of bark still alight with the blue flame and Lily cries out your name, leaping out of the water to drag you in and put out whatever was remaining. She plops you back on shore securely once the fire is completely out and she can check on all your wounds. Her eyes are shining with tears as she observes the bright red burns up and down your arms and legs.

“I’m so sorry!” She wails, and you shake your head to comfort her. It was the right call— that man was dangerous, and neither of you had the kind of combat experience to be able to take him in a one on one. You were both alive thanks to her ability to stay calm and rational.

“I— I couldn’t d-do anything!!” She objects as she picks you up and carefully hoists you on her back.

“You saved my life, Galligator.” You reassure her, and then hiss in pain while getting settled. You’d definitely need a trip to the hospital to get your wounds dressed, but something else was bothering you…

That man was definitely Dabi. Even the most ignorant of people these days knew how to recognize him; if the scars weren’t enough, it was those iconic blue flames. He was on a watchlist everywhere in the country, same as the rest of the League. Though as much as it confused you that he was in your area, that wasn’t the main issue.

You recalled the exchanging of hands between him and his underling… That shimmering red you’d recognize anywhere.

Lily’s voice feels far away as she quickly dials the number of the nearby hospital, letting them know of your arrival. Her cool, wet scales feel nice. Only one thought remains as she speeds down with you securely in tow:

Why did Dabi have a fierce feather?

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #confidante #gender neutral reader #have this.

55 notes · View notes

enchanted-lightning-aes · 2 years

Text

Feeble Diversion

A/N: a short that’s slightly based on Leverage bc I’ve been watching it, lmao. just a team member, who’s struggling to be a grifter, lmao, for @flashfictionfridayofficial.

Word Count: 708

TW: None

***

"That's right. . . I stole the art piece!" someone yells, standing behind a podium.

It results in gasps from a crowd at the room as they regard the woman with wide eyes. She stands tall, her chin up, and dabs her eyes with tissue. Someone overfills a glass of wine, letting it spill across a table. A guest drops their plate onto a table, their jaw slacking.

"Is this true?" a guest asks, raising their brows. "What do you. . . what do you mean by that?"

"As in, I'm the person behind the theft of Van Gogh's starry night," Merianne answers with a flourish. "It is I, who's responsible for a heinous crime such as that!"

Never once in her life did she commit a crime. Well, maybe she had stolen a free sample twice that one time. . . Other than that, she's mostly a decent citizen without any record of thievery. She's more of a skilled hitter than a grifter. She can punch someone on the air than lie to them.

"Pfft, you? Steal?" Another guest clicks their tongue, evidently dubious. "Now everyone, please, calm down. I'm sure this woman must have drank a lot of bubbly champagne. Nothing to fear, anyone, there's no thieves in this exhibition. We've got top security that's unbreakable."

Not really, Merianne thinks, keeping her hands behind her back. Her accomplice, Liena, managed to sneak into their storage. She intercepted their systems and deactivated them. However, she's taking a bit too longer than she'd like.

That's the problem with Liena: she couldn't resist an opportunity to work on her skills.

So, she taps into her ear piece to check on her.

"Faster! I don't think I can keep lying for too long," Merianne mutters.

"Just stall a little longer," Liena replies, getting the envelope from a container. "It's not easy breaking into a secured room, ya know?"

"Ugh!" Merianne sighs, sounding like she's probably shaking her head. "You should have signed someone else up for this!"

"Well, it's not as if I had anyone else willing to play the part. Besides. . . they're distracted by your drama, it's what's more important."

"Hey, I don't want to land in prison for a false confession."

"And you won't, don't worry."

With an inward grumble, she turns her ear piece off. Fine, she can probably wait for this to be over. However, Liena should have known better than to assign her as a grifter. She can barely swindle anyone into sharing their financial information with her. She's only good with taking them out. Or hiding the body.

Not with the talking and all those words, and bleh. It's more of a former teammate's thing, who had to take a break for secretive reasons.

Just give her a baseball bat and she'd whack everyone in this room unconscious within ten minutes.

"But I stole it," Merianne insists again.

"Can you please shut up?" another guest asks, glaring at her. "Some of us don't wanna deal with your issues."

"If you stole it, do you have proof you did?"

"Pfft, you're just talking utter non-sense."

"That's the wine talking, probably."

Merianne furrows her brows. Hey, she had to work hard on planning this deception. She's supposed to play a part of a businesswoman then felt she couldn't pull it off. She's only a random guest, who somehow got access to this exhibition.

With pricey paintings and valuable statues galore.

She had to fail her part of the heist this badly, huh? Still, her babbling managed to serve as a distraction, so. . . not a total failure, at least.

It doesn't mean that she's not sour about this, though.

Merianne slumps into her seat, fuming.

Once the exhibition's over, the museum curator informs them to go. Merianne clutches on her small wallet, stomping out. She makes it to a parking lot, where she spots a beloved van parked.

When she opens a door, Liena shows up with a case in hand.

Liena snorts. "See? Told you that you can pull this grifting thing off."

Merianne crosses her arms and pouts. "Next time, you try doing this grifting stuff. I'm not gonna do this again."

"Deal," Liena replies, hopping onto a seat. "On your next job, you get to be my getaway driver instead."

***

#writeblr #creative writing #flash fiction friday #fff164 #enchant: original works

19 notes · View notes

luphorics · 10 months

Text

iris rambles dont mind me

(before reading: for context, iris is a radiant whose powers revolve around the creation of bubbles. while harmless on surface level, said bubbles can alter reality of whatever gets encapsulated into it.)

thinking abt Iris's lore makes me so emo as fuck. i can envision her character trailer is so deceptive, she's just going about living her normal life in a city that looks a bit too whimsical to be real. everything looks fine and alright though, because she's happy, the people she (seemingly) knows in her world are happy. she has a routine that... strangely almost never changes too much but that's okay bc--despite also having strange and eerie flashbacks of a lab-controlled life for some reason--everything is fine!

and then some "anomalies" (aka radiant agents from the VP, as they can only safely enter. any other human who enters an illusion this strong likely goes insane) enter her bubble world. she's trying to get rid of them, even more so try to force them into this lie. but as radiants, they're mostly resistant to whatever's happening within. whoever is in that team are trying so hard to make her snap out of it, and probably one of them finally asks her "what's your name?"

and this causes Iris to lose her shit because she finally realizes that she doesn't even have a real name. the people who created her never gave her one, save for the serial number she was assigned. the memories of her childhood and adolescence in the lab flood back too fast, with the only good one being that of her caretaker who affectionately called Iris her "little bubble". ultimately, her entire facade falls apart and she's forced to face reality, and the fact that all the citizens living in her word are just imaginary fragments based on people who died in her presence.

the VP takes her back, hoping to find a way to help her recuperate and recover. i'd imagine she's just a hollow shell of her idealized self as she sits in the interrogation room, refusing to talk for a long time. only with cypher's help do they discover that the young lady before them doesn't even have a genuine identity, and that she was the product of an unsanctioned and immoral effort to clone the earliest radiants. additionally, his expertise allowed him to finally uncover the name of the Jane Doe whom she was cloned from: Yeojin Chae.

Cypher presents the woman's story to the young girl, and despite the tragedy of her ending, it somehow manages to ignite something inside her: the first sparks of determination and hope. knowing the girl had nowhere else to go, she's offered sanctuary with the VP. almost immediately, she asks to join their ranks.

she spends some time improving her condition though, and while she's still plagued by trauma, she figures joining them is the only way she can find worth in herself in a reality that she now has to fight for. before her formal induction, she's given the opportunity to choose her own name-- at least so she could be identified. the girl settles on "Yeojin", the name of the woman she was cloned from.

i can definitely see someone like Astra being her radiant mentor. somewhere along that timeline, Yeojin earns her callsign of "Iris", and ultimately finds a new family--the dying wish of her caretaker--within the VP

#valorant oc #valorantoc #luorambles

2 notes · View notes

cljordan-imperium · 1 year

Text

FIND THE WORD TAG

I was tagged by @aohendo

I'm tagging @autumnalwalker, @dogmomwrites @from-midnight-with-love

Your words are: excuse, tactic, bubble, verticle, ribbon

My words are: spare, safe, soft, sleep, and sift

SPARE

Phaedra looked between them for a moment, she could see that Thinius was agreeing with Dez, so she relaxed. She was glad this had come up now and not later. “Don’t mention this in front of Yael. Gabriel has been brutal with her and she wouldn’t give you a second chance. Once she gets to know you, then she’ll hear you out. You have no idea what she’s been through. I’m a bit more understanding of losing your temper. I was spared his wrath.” Before she’d even finished she could see both men clenching their jaws. By having a better disposition, she had been spared from Gabriel, but she also hadn’t been a virgin when joining the legion, so he hadn’t seen her as a potential mate. He had seen Yael as one, but she had been headstrong and stubborn, something he had completely broken in her.

SAFE

As she got a tour of all of the gardens and the different buildings, sculptures, and landscaping to be found there, Phaedra began to wonder if Yael would like it. Maybe finding peace somewhere in Imperium where she was safe would help in her healing. The gardens were quiet, even when they would be near other people. Voices were kept at a good volume and there didn’t seem to be the screeching she had so often heard on Earth. The fact that there also wouldn’t be phones and cameras everywhere would also be a relief.

SOFT

Another kiss was placed on her forehead then Adriel brought his forehead to hers and there was something in his eyes that made her feel that no matter what fights or disagreements that they had, it would end up okay. “Spending the day together sounds great, but how about we stay down here for a while? At least till we figure each other out a little more?” Anna gave him a small smile which was rewarded with one of his own and a very soft kiss.

SLEEP

“I just meant…” Phaedra couldn’t finish because she was laughing so hard. With the way that all of the men seemed to be protective, she doubted any of the women were going to be alone much, even if it meant that some of the men would be sleeping on the couches that were in the bedrooms. She had no doubt Deacon or Leandre would be for Yael, if not having to move another couch in so they both could.

SIFT (DO NOT HAVE IN ANY WIP)

Some background on Talon

Mother was Clotho. Father is Thinnius, although until a few years prior he believed it to be Abbadon. Before the creation of the world, Clotho became enamored with Abbadon. He was not interested in her, finding her tedious and annoying. Because she was a goddess of fate, she knew that his tapestry became joined to Abriella's eventually. Due to this, she considered the rejection to be based on the coming future. Jealousy spurned her and she set in motion the events that would lead to Abriella's soul being sold to Lucifer and many other events that would cause her suffering for many years. She also lied repeatedly to her twins, Talon and Talia until they believed that they could trust only each other and her. Talia's mind became fractured and jumbled, but Talon saw through some of her deceptions. Because of the mess she had made of many of the lines of fate, The Source ordered her extermination at the hands of Abbadon. This caused Talon and Talia to hate Abbadon and when he joined with Abriella, for them to at first see them as enemies. On the night of the confrontation, Dez (always the mouthy one) revealed the truth in his usual style, stunning them all. It was at that time, Talon began to heal the rift between himself and Abbadon, Thinnius and the Horsemen. Unfortunately the same cannot be said of his sister, which you will find more about later.

#find the word tag #writeblr tag #the imperium chronicles #my writing #my ocs

5 notes · View notes

oc-avalanche · 2 years

Text

Warnings: Violence, Major Character Death, Manipulation, Paarthanaux dies (sorry)

So this started out as me ranting about how Delphine was written and how there could’ve been more potential to her instead of remaining a relatively flat character. Instead of being an angry woman who doesn’t believe that you are dragonborn and seems to always too busy in tone to explain everything, I decided to change that.

Instead the Delphine I tried to imply was very kind and helping towards the dragonborn. Helping them and telling the history of the Blades and how they were there to help the dragonborn. While doing so, she also spread seeds of deception and lies about Paarthanaux so that when the time came, they could ask the dragonborn to kill him so that he could pay for their crimes.

So, as hard as it can be, the goals was to put the readers into the sense that Delphine was the one who was there and be manipulated not only by her words but influenced by the shout of Dragonrend who was supposed to be made with anger and hatred towards dragons, to finally push the Dragonborn over the edge and kill Paarthanaux.

I hope you like it and sorry Dragongrandpa!

A gentle hand woke you to the world, the rough calluses feeling your head. With fluttering eyes, Delphine’s gaze softened, a motherly smile pulling in her lips. “You did it,” there was a pride in her tone, smoothing out your brows from any stray strands. “Now rest, you deserve it.”

All you could do was nod and rest your eyes once more, allowing the darkness to seep in and consume your thoughts. The dreams of Alduin had stopped, his death ceasing the torment he held over you, but another swooped in, his voice once bringing comfort, now it only brought disgust and fear. “Dovahkiin, when you are ready, come to me.”

His gravelly voice made your stomach twist, his eyes seemed darker than the depths of the sea of ghosts. A chill cuts your skin as voices draw you away from Paarthanaux, voices that were hushed.

“They just finished killing Alduin, their body is still recovering, you need to give them time.”

You fight the heavy weight of slumber that threatens to overtake you. Just a little longer, you beg.

“Delphine, you can’t keep hiding this from them.”

Another wave, deep breath. You can almost hear her words.

“They’re alone,” her words seem distant, you’re pretty sure she said something before that but not quite sure. “We can’t have him-“ you can fight no longer as her words are cut short and you fall back into a restless sleep, mind repeating their hushed whispers, gluing them together into an incoherent ball.

When you woke again, the room was empty and your clothes were cleaned and sewn back together and placed nicely on the table near where you slept. You took things slow, slipping on whatever was left of yours and stood up with a small wobble. I have to end this, is all you keep saying to yourself as you gathered your weapons and bags. It’s all you can think about as you begin to walk out that door sparring no words to the patrons of the inn nor towards Delphine and Esbern as they called out for you.

The door of the inn isn’t closed yet before Delphine grabs your arm and you shoot her a look that scares you. Not because you saw her face, but because of the intense rage that bubbled within you. Before she can say a word, you speak. “I am going to do this.” The words are calculated and precise. “There is still a part of Alduin living, we both know that. I need to finish this once and for all.”

You free yourself from her grasp and she doesn’t go after you, nor do you hear her voice. It’s only silence that follows you towards your destination. Just silence, with a hint of bitter resentment.

The walk up to High Hrothgar was a blur to you as you held your weapon in hand. And even when the grey beards tried to talk sense, to stop you, they proved no match for your own voice as it pushed them back and left them unable to defend their precious dragon. Just the thought of him made you bite your lip enough to bleed.

He had lied. Paarthanaux had mentioned that he once followed Alduin, followed and listened to his teachings. But never had he ever gone to the extent of the crimes he committed. The people he had scarred and wounded. The people whose being became full of hate and rage, because of him!

Dragonrend has ripped you from the inside out. With each use, you felt your soul rip apart as the anguish and hatred of the people before race through your body. It was just one or two souls that you felt as you used the shout. It was all the people who suffered at the hands of dragons, every single child who had to grow up without a parent, every single parent who lost their children, every single soul who suffered under the claws of Alduin and his commanders. So consumed it had been you felt the same feeling towards Alduin as you faced him. And even more so as you walked up to the Throat of the World. To face the one who had hurt you for the final time.

Paarthanaux knew what fate was awaiting him as he gazed upon your figure, sword in hand, eyes fierce. “Ah,” he let out a heavy breath, his gaze reserved. “I am to pay for my crimes.” His voice grates your ears. How could he be so damn calm!

“Fight me,” you growled.

There was no response from the dragon, only a simple bow of the head and a sigh.

“Fight me!”

Your screams echoed as you landed the blow to his wing, his roar bellowed the earth. Blood sprayed onto you, teeth gritted and stained. You ripped the blade though his skin and scales, watching as his wing went limp. His body slumped, head still bowed down.

“You’re a damned coward!”

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you took another swing. It was haphazardly, making contact with the side of his head, cutting at his jaw and teeth. Fight me! The words balled up in your throat as you now held the sword with two hands. You were trembling, hands numb, cheeks red. The cold wind wrapped its tendrils around you as the blood stained snow grew beneath your feet. The blood on your face dripped down your brows and into your eyes, staining the world red in your gaze.

The voice ripped through your stomach, anguish drowning your senses as your shout shackled him down. A power of a thousand tormented souls screamed in your ears as the pain of the past engulfed you. Paarthanaux only groaned, the weight of his punishment making him almost flat to the ground.

His eyes met yours, still resigned and understanding. “Do what you must, dovahkiin.”

As you absorbed his words, your arms moved of their own accord, the sword piercing down into his skull. And as it did, you found yourself thrown back, the power and knowledge of the dragon fierce. You remained laying, tears silently spilling as you felt his soul blanketing you and his final words echoed.

“Be at peace.”

...

The world swirled around you, the present melting away. Days and nights passed, seasons came and went until everything came to a stop. Before you could even take in your surroundings, two dragons fell before you in an intense battle. A grey one was being pinned by a larger black one with red eyes ready to kill.

“TRAITOR!” Alduin’s voice was unmistakable, his tail raised, head rearing back.

And as he did, Paarthanaux snapped his jaw around the black dragon’s neck, teeth baring down, blood seeping from the wounds. Alduin let out a pain stricken roar that shook the ground before you. The grey dragon flipped the other over, gaining his footing, his teeth stained with red.

“I am sorry brother, but I can follow you no more.”

Paarthanaux began to fade before you, the scene dissipating as more time passed and as it did, you felt your heart churning. Your stomach twisted as you saw history playing out before you, scenes you had not been at but were now seeing and feeling as if you had been.

It slowed once more and before you was Paarthanaux standing with his nose towards the sky, eyes closed. Then from behind a voice of a man, his tone teasing. “You won’t find much in this cold bitter air, old master.” A figure passed through you, his back turned. He looked old, but still held his body like a young warrior. His hair was down and pulled back in tiny braids, his armor held an insignia that you didn’t recognize. “Still thinking back on the past?”

“I always think of the past, young Windcaller.” Paarthanaux’s voice was gentle as he slowly brought his head back down to talk to the man before him. “One does not live as old as me and not reflect.” There was a small chuckle in his words that was followed by a heavy sigh. “One day, my thoughts will go to another and I hope that my reflections and knowledge will help them despite all the crimes I have done against mankind.”

The man named Windcaller seemed to shuffle on his feet, his body growing tense. “Master, don’t say that. You turned your back on Alduin and saved humanity from their chains. What else can you give back other than that?”

Paarthanaux’s eyes lingered on him and for a moment you could see that he was not looking at the man before him, but at you.

“It is not for you or me to decide what my fate is. But someone else,” the man moved to say more but the dragon shook his head. “Do not worry, young one. I have lived for a long time and I believe it is good for dragons to enter slumber as your kind do.”

...

Your legs gave out beneath you - you didn’t recall standing up - and as you did another scene began to build itself upon you and you saw yourself, smiling and talking to the grey dragon. The words were distant, but you could see yourself laughing as the dragon spoke to you and you listened to him, eyes twinkling as he spoke.

You vaguely remembered that moment. It had been a particularly hard day and you had gone to him for guidance. This led to you telling him about stories of your past, both good and bad. As well as him telling his own stories, many that made you laugh. At one time you called him father and he said nothing but his eyes seemed to gleam with joy.

Why did you stop?

...

The world became normal and you were alone on the mountain, the skeleton of Paarthanaux before you. Shame began to wash over you as the consequences of your actions came to your realization. You felt his thoughts bubbling within you, his emotions residing with yours as you sat before his bones.

“I was lied to.” The words felt stale on your tongue, a sense of calm trying to wrap itself around you but you were too numb to want to feel it. The truth though, the truth of what had just happened stabbed into you. Along with the fact that not everything you had been told was what it was and now you had killed him, the person who was there for you longer than you had been for yourself.

“She lied to me.”

#skyrim #skyrimse #skyrim se #skyrim stories #skyrim fanfiction #skyrim angst #angst #paarthanaux dies #skyrim paarthanaux #Skyrim dragonborn #skyrim delphine #mai writes #skyrim writing #character death

11 notes · View notes

varjopeura · 1 year

Note

🎯, ❤️, 🥊 for any/all of the blorbos! I'm curious about the lot of 'em. :D

🎯 -What do they do best?

(I'll include a few word introductions of the blorbos here too, gives the answers just a little bit of context)

Todenmukaisuus (or Tomu for short, since her name is so. fucking. long. Fun fact: her name would directly translate to Veracity!) is my current D&D character and main blorbo, a light-hearted tiefling rogue running from her past and trying to make friends with everyone she meets. Tomu would love to claim that she is an excellent liar, swindler and snake oil salesman, very good at persuading people to pay money for things they definitely should not buy - but she isn't half as good a liar as she wants to be. Yes, she's very good at crafting her fake potions and forging papers, but the moment she tries to cook up a good hoax in practice she ends up being way out of her depth. Her actual talents are in the crafting bits. (Like, don't get me wrong, she actually should be very good with the lying too, she definitely has the stats and skills required for it - she just can't for the life of her roll any good when she attempts deception.)

Glimmer, my precious, my favourite, my literal ray of sunshine, is a tiefling cleric of the Dawnfather Pelor, devout in her worship of powers of light and good. Glimmer is a healer in both physical and spiritual sense. She knows how to treat a wound, be it with magic or stitches, and while she's patching you up she's going to do her best to get your mind at ease, too. Whatever worries you, she'll make sure it's not your problem anymore - whatever you've done is more than enough, you are enough, you are loved, she loves you. And whatever it was that worried you, those are now Her worries, her burdens to bear. She's way too good at taking responsibility in things she can't change, and exceptionally good at worrying about stuff.

Lila is a young half-elf with a newly found sorcerous talent and a found family consisting of a major criminal organization. Currently deeply involved in a war between said organization's different factions. Lila has a natural affinity to magic that mainly has to do with death and undeath. She is a trained liar and manipulator, as well as a thief and smuggler. I'd still consider her true talent to be Following Orders. She will do anything and everything her criminal family requires her to do, and no matter how hard the task, she will keep going at it until she finds a way to succeed. Left at her own devices, she will usually either freeze or do something extremely stupid, but when someone else is there planning things and giving orders she really shines at executing the plans.

Aalo is my character in our Vampire: the Masquerade campaign! She's a professional art photographer and hobbyist ghost hunter, and these days also a horrifying undead abomination vampire, plagued by prophetic visions and unpleasant hallucinations. Aalo has spent her entire life studying all things paranormal and occult, and her strongest skillsets lie in using that knowledge to her benefit. She's also useful to have around for some light breaking and entering, but other than that? She is actually kind of useless, I love me a pathetic woman :D

(ohhh this is going to get Long, isn't it?)

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

Todenmukaisuus' favourite memory is actually a fairly recent one! (Mainly because the good memories of her past are now shaded by feelings of heartbreak and betrayal - the wonderful memories of hangout sessions with your best friend aren't as wonderful after you've realized the horrifying amounts of abuse and gaslighting that same friend subjected you to). But even ignoring that, the enchanted bubble bath shared with a whole bunch of new friends would've made the list of Tomu's best memories. Her party had just arrived to a new city, one that she'd wanted to see for ages, and were staying for the night in a Super Cool Wizard Tower with a Super Cool Wizard living in it. Attached to their room was a small bathroom with a bathtub enchanted to always stay warm, with fresh water constantly pouring in in a gentle stream. The walls were covered with shelves filled with dozens of little bottles of perfumes and soaps and bubble solutions, all of them of delightful and exotic smells and colors. After weeks on the road and months running from her past, that kind of luxury in itself was a dream come true! But the most important thing was that there, crammed into a one-person bathtub with two other people, playing with the floating bubbles and laughing and play-fighting, Tomu felt really and truly safe and happy for the first time in gods know how long. At that moment she realized she wasn't traveling with these people because of some duty or debt or even convenience, but because she Actually Liked them. They were Her people, and this was Her city, and everything was going to be okay after all.

One of Glimmer's fondest memories is from a time she was very young, so it's more of a series of brief recollections and feelings than an actual scene. She was maybe six?, seven? at the time, spending her time learning how to read. It was a particularly beautiful day, so her teacher took their lessons to a nearby park, where she could study sitting under a great oak tree. Glimmer remembers the warm sun on her skin, the sounds of birds, the painstaking process of slowly turning the symbols on paper into spoken syllables and words; a deep sigh after a challenging sentence, a laugh, her hand brushing the soft green grass; her fingers finding a four-leaf clover and picking it up; her teacher agreeing to save the lucky clover between the pages of a book; the feeling of having a mutual secret and the spark of friendship forming between the teacher and the student. Glimmer still carries the dried clover with her in her adventures, as a personal treasure from her past.

Oh, Lila gave me the hardest time with this one! She vehemently refuses to pick a single memory among many happy ones - the good times before the Bad Stuff Happening were good, that's the end of it. No need to dwell on memories when there's things to fix in the present.

The absolute highlight of Aalo's life and undeath was her first art gallery exhibit. The rush of seeing her works on someone else's walls, the same works that were so often described as off-putting or unnecessarily macabre, and seeing people actually Looking at them, interested in them. Interested in what she had to say with her art. Appreciating her vision. She never quite figured out the right words to describe her feelings at that time, but nonetheless she's been chasing those same feelings over and over again ever since.

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Todenmukaisuus loves encountering anything New and Interesting and Exciting, be it a new person or item or activity. She loves traveling to places she hasn't yet seen, loves getting swept up into unexpected adventures, and loves spending her money on useless but beautiful gifts for her friends. She absolutely fucking hates touching anything dirty or gross or otherwise icky (unless it's some poisonous substance you can squeeze out of a defeated monster, then it loops right back into the 'interesting new things' category, for some reason).

Glimmer enjoys the simple things in life. Baking fresh bread, sitting down with a cup of tea after a day's hard work, finding some peace and quiet in meditation. And, altough she might not readily admit it, she really loves casting Fireballs. What's not to love in a big fiery boom! She hates spending prolonged times outside of daylight, and talking to pompous people in positions of power.

Lila loves to drink expensive wine in good company (or cheap wine in Really Good company), she loves going out to all the super fancy places and behaving like a real and proper upper class girl would, but more than anything she loves getting into dumb and completely avoidable trouble, going 'yes and' to bad ideas until she's horribly tangled in a very bad scenario, and then desperately wriggling her way out of it. She hates having to make actual Important Decisions without someone telling her what to do.

Aalo's favourite activity in the whole wide world is to uncover secrets, dig up dirt on people, and solve mysteries, especially of the supernatural kind. She also deeply loves photography, including every step of the process from planning elaborate ideas and weird technical tricks to actually developing the film. She hates staying still and spending her nights alone.

#these were fun! thank you for asking :D #oc tag #todenmukaisuus #glimmer of dawnheim #lila #aalo

3 notes · View notes