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sweetestofchaos · 2 months

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too easy | m.yg

p. yoongi x black fem!reader

g. sugar baby x sugar daddy | established relationship

r. 18+

w. messy oral (m receiving), hair pulling, cursing, gagging, cum eating.

wc. .9k

a/n: happy birthday yoongi! just a quick smuty drabble to send out some good vibes. dividers made by me (and that is a craft that is hard as hell to do). totally unedited 'cause i just wanted to share something for my man's born day.

It is easy, too easy. Yoongi thinks to himself as he sits behind his desk.

His face is void of any emotion as he sits in his chair with his laptop in front of him, open with a current Zoom call. No one knows that you are underneath the desk of his office, mouth full of his cock; drooling, and so lost in the taste of him as you swipe your tongue from side to side. Yoongi listens as his second in command Namjoon rambles on about today's findings. He honestly could care less. He has better things to focus on but as head of the group, Yoongi has to listen to Namjoon’s pointless reports.

You shift on your knees and Yoongi’s eyes close for a brief moment as his cock slides farther down your throat. Carefully, Yoongi unlaces his fingers that are placed in front of him and he slowly reaches underneath the desk with one hand. He rests the hand on top of your head, his thumb moving over your hair as he curses silently to himself as the softness of your tongue cushions the underside of his cock.

Softly Yoongi inhales and interrupts Namjoon by holding his hand up. “I’ve heard enough for now.” He stares at Namjoon's unblinking face on the screen. “I have other matters to attend to, I'll call you back when I'm done.” Yoongi’s voice is flat and even, unchanged by the wetness that is slowly ruining the crotch of his pants.

Namjoon does not question Yoongi's authority and ends the call silently. Once the silence echoes loudly in the room, Yoongi grips your braids tightly in a fist and starts to thrust deep down into your throat. Tiny huffs of air slip from his lips and his hips stutter as the head of his cock kiss the back of your throat again and again.

"Shit, baby! F-Fuck!” He’s voice is deep and breathy as he continues to fuck your throat.

“That's it Princess, take it nice and deep. "

Yoongi throws his head back in pleasure as you swallow around his girth and gag. He loves the sounds that are spilling out of your mouth, the wet sloshing from the way his cock enters and exits your esophagus. You are a drooling mess. Such a pretty sight hidden between his legs underneath his desk. He wants to ruin you. He wants the black mascara that coats your lashes to streak down your face in black rivers. You are his to ruin and no one else's. He sadly regrets buying you that waterproof mascara the other day.

With that thought in mind Yoongi growls as he presses your face into his crotch until your nose is pressed into his pubic hair. He holds you in place and groans loudly as his balls tighten and he comes down your throat with a loud curse.

"Shit!”

Yoongi’s chest is heaving and his heart is thundering against his ribs as he tries to clear his blurry vision. He can hear as well as feel you trying to swallow down his cum without choking.

“That's it, don't waste a drop.” Yoongi encourages as he releases his grip on your hair. “Swallow it all baby. That's a good girl.”

The praise makes you hum in delight and Yoongi bites his lip as he hisses from the sensitivity.

“Fuck, that's a good girl.”

As you slowly let Yoongi’s cock fall from your mouth, you lick at your lips and pout up at him. Yoongi stares down at you with glassy eyes and quickly reaches into his desk to grab one of his many handkerchiefs that he leaves around. Pinching your chin between his fingers, Yoongi turns your face upward and carefully wipes the tears, spit and cum from your face. He pushes back in his chair just enough to use the same handkerchief to wipe your lips gloss, spit and cum from his cock. You crawl out from under his desk and slap his hand away from the still hardened length. Settling yourself in his lap, the skirt of your bubble gum pink skirt rises and Yoongi hums low in chest throat.

“Giving Daddy more Princess?”

You nod your head innocently and Yoongi smirks as his large hands squeeze and rub on your butt. He pushes your skirt farther up and pulls at the white lace thong that is sticking to your folds, soaking wet.

Yoongi’s fingers tease your entrance, tracing the sticky path and pressing against the translucent material. The touch is madding and you rock your hips, grinding against Yoongi’s fingertips as he whispers teasing words in your ear. You can feel how hard he is underneath you, the heat from his length burns against the bare skin of your thighs.

“You’re behaving so well for me. Mmm, should I give my Princess a reward?”

Yoongi’s lips sear your skin as he nips and sucks at your throat and exposed shoulder from the white tube top you are wearing. You moan as he licks at the bites before he chuckles and kisses your jaw.

“You get yourself off, using me and I’ll buy you whatever you want, baby.”

You grin at Yoongi’s words and he laughs, he knew the game you were playing the moment you stepped foot in his home and applied a fresh coat of gloss to your sinful lips. If you want that new Zimmermann line, you will work for it.

#yoongi smut #yoongi x black reader #yoongi x reader #sugar baby au #fic: too easy

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parvulous-writings · 8 months

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Dear Friend // Vander x Piltover!Reader

Summary: There is a silent friendship between you and an Undercity dweller.

Warnings: Brief mentions of violence and injury (not explicit)

Words: 2.7K

Notes: My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too!

Not my gif

The Bridge of Progress may have been built to unite two people's, but most saw it as something that partially furthered division between the two cities. On both sides, the people's knew it was safer not to cross, to stay far from the bridge, lest the guards on the bridge are particularly crabby. Which they almost always were - no one wanted to be stationed there for any length of time. The complaints were always the same; the air was thicker with smog the closer you got to the bridge, there was always this smell of... Mustiness, that came along with it. No one enjoyed it. At least, that was Topside's view of the Bridge. Something to keep away from, to avoid, to not think about it, if it could be helped. For the dwellers of Zaun, however, it was something quite different. It was constant, looming reminder of what they were to Piltover. Nothing more than the things down below - not even people to most of them. Most Zaunites either were entirely indifferent to Piltover and it's so called progress, or held a deep-rooted disdain for each and every person Topside. You, however, weren't like your fellow city-livers. You didn't hate those who lived below you - you didn't see them as less-than for being born into something far beyond their control. Though, that could be in part because of a strange connection you had formed with one of the Zaunites. You knew nothing about him; not his name, his life, none of it. You didn't even know his eye colour - neither of you had dared to venture closer to one another, to close the gap over the bridge, for whatever reason. Whether it was the fear of repercussions from the watching enforcers, or fear of one another you had never really managed to put your finger on. You just knew that it had become an almost ritual for the two of you. Thankfully, the enforcers had never asked what you were doing, visiting the bridge almost every day, at the same time. They didn't care, so long as you left them alone, and didn't cause a fuss.

Today, the fog towards the opposite end of the bridge didn't seem to be as thick. It was still there, of course - it always was - but you could see through most of it, down part of the practically defunct cobble road, but your vision was soon rendered void as the road disappeared into the darkness of the city below. You sat down in your usual spot, about a quarter of the way along the bridge, waiting for your 'friend' to make an appearance. He always turned up after you, but he did turn up at the same time every day. Maybe it was because he knew you'd already be there, waiting for him. There had only been a handful of times where he hadn't shown up. And those days you'd spent as long as the enforcers would let you, sitting in your spot on the bridge, waiting, hoping that your friend was alright. Of course, so far he'd always turn up in a day or two - you came to realise he was probably sick. You'd never really thought how bad conditions down there must have been, and how often illness must've made it's rounds in the populous - it simply wasn't a thing in Piltover, it was something you had always really taken for granted. Everyone did, no one imagined a life without the healthcare that the citizens of Piltover were given. You supposed, for your friend, and any family he may have, that was their reality. No help, besides whatever home remedies they could scrounge together. You pitied them, but you didn't think there was much that you could do.

Whilst deep in your thoughts, you caught a shadow lumbering up the road in the distance. The broad shoulders - even though tiny from how far they were from you - were familiar enough. You sat up a bit straighter, trying to see if he was okay, without exchanging a single word with him. He looked more run down than usual - and even with the space between you, you could see the dirt on his face, the tears in his clothes. His shirt was torn in several places, exposing his skin and a few wounds here and there. His nose was battered and bloodied, and one eye seemed to have swollen shut. You felt your jaw practically drop at the sight. You had seen him recovering from illness before, you had seen him with some minor injuries, but this... This was something else to you. You had no idea what to make of it - was he the one to instigate whatever brawl he had been in? Was he jumping to someone's aid, someone's protection? You had no idea. For all the time you had spent with him, you had never said anything to him; never learnt his name, or who he was beyond his appearance. He could have been anyone - from Zaun's most vicious criminal, to their sweetest habitant. In the state that he was, though, vicious man or not, you were surprised that he had still come. You glanced over your shoulder towards the enforcers standing at your side of the bridge, to check if they were keeping a close eye on you. Of course they weren't - they hardly did, you caused no trouble, so why have cause to believe you would now?

Biting the bullet, you pushed yourself to your feet. Warily, you made your way further down the bridge than you ever had done before, taking yourself closer and closer to your friend, and by proxy, Zaun. At first, your friend didn't notice you. He was preoccupied, trying to rub his hands clean of the grime and blood that caked his knuckles. A fighter, clearly a rough one. You drew close, and crouched down beside him. "How badly are you hurt?" You ask him, your voice as gentle as you could make it, but it still made him jump a mile. So much crossed his face in that moment - fear, surprise, relief, scepticism. He had no idea what to say to you. Why were you this close to him? Why were you talking to him? You give him a moment, to collect his thoughts and his composure, but he still doesn't say anything. He just stares at you, as if you had asked him something unthinkable. "Are you okay?" You ask him, hoping that maybe this time he'd respond to you. "What happened?" He continues to stare for a while longer, before clearing his throat quietly. "Fight..." Was all he responded with, as if that was the most difficult thing to figure out about his current situation. "I see that..." You answer slowly. "But... What happened? How badly are you hurt?" You asked again, now that he seemed to be responding. He looked at you for a moment, seeming to be... Analysing something. Perhaps if you would understand, as a Topsider. "Someone was bein' less then courteous to a mate of mine... Wanted to stick up for him..." He told you - and for some, odd reason, this struck you. You'd never considered that fissure folk would fight for more than just trivial things and necessities. The man must've seen the look on your face, as he scowled a little bit. "What? Think we don't look after each other down there?" He asked, gesturing with his head towards the way he had come. "Well-" You started, though you weren't even sure what you were going to respond with. "Well we do. We're not savages, we're people." He told you, clearly this was something he had more of an opinion on than yourself. You supposed, as you crouched there beside him, that the bridge, and the separation of the cities was something far more prominent in the lives of the fissure folk, than it was in yours.

You snapped out of your thought-filled daze, patting yourself down, your gaze flitting this way and that, as you look for something, anything, that could help him. In a flash of what you thought to be genius, you tried to rip off part of your shirt to wrap his hand; it was something that you had read in adventure novels that seemed to work every time. When you attempted it, however, nothing happened, you couldn't even make a small tear in the fabric. The man just watched, his gaze moving between your hands, and your face. The corner of his lip twitched upwards slightly, clearly he was trying not to laugh at you. You sigh quietly, "Listen, I've not-" "Done this before, yeah, I can tell..." He replied, "I don't need bandages, these'll heal by 'emselves..." He told you, "'S not the first time this has happened, I'll live." "But you're bleeding-" "So? We all bleed. It's only a little, anyway. I'll be fine." He reiterated, shaking his head slowly. "I've had worse." Worse? Worse?? The man looked like he had crawled through hell and back just to sit on the bridge with you, and yet here he was saying he'd had worse? Your jaw when slack, and he huffed in laughter, "Don't s'pose you see much like this often, do you?" You shook your head. "Um... No..." You replied, your voice was soft, almost meek in comparison to his. The pair of you lapsed into silence for a while, sitting the way the pair of you normally did, just much much closer than usual. It was quite surreal, actually. Though you had often thought of the way the gap between you might one day lessen, you had never for one moment thought that this would be how. A few more minutes pass by, and as the midday sun starts to hit the top of the bridge's pillars, an idea strikes you. You start to rummage deep in your pockets, eliciting a strange look from the man beside you. You grasp at many small coins - just spare change you had grabbed and left in your pockets. To be honest you were surprised that there was any still left there, the amount of times you go to get something from your pocket and lose several coins. "Look-" You start, shoving the coins into his bruised and broken hands, "I know it's not much, but it's something, right-?" You hurriedly say to him, and his brows furrow. "I don't need your pity money." He tries to hand back what you had given to him, but you refuse. "I've got enough of it - I can get you some more, if you want-" "I just said-" "I know!" You cut him off, "But... It's just hit me how different our lives are, you know? Like... How much... Better, I have it." The man looked... Unimpressed. "You're joking, right?" Of course, to him, the differences were obvious. They were something thought about and discussed often, unlike with you, where it was a train of thought often shoved away, something that was not discussed in polite conversation. "It only just occurred to you?" You shrugged lightly in response, and he just sighed. "Listen... It's not that I don't appreciate it. I do. But..." He paused for a moment, "I can't just... Take your money, no matter how much you may have - it's not right." "You're not taking it!" You assure him, "I'm giving it to you... You need it a lot more than I do." And at this, he just... Looks at you. You couldn't really tell what he was thinking - then again, he didn't even know what to think in that moment. Were you just doing this out of pity, or was it genuine kindness? His mind logically went to the former, but something in his heart wanted to settle on the latter. A small glimmer of hope within him desperately wanted to believe that you weren't doing this just because you felt sorry for him, but because you genuinely wanted to help him. "I can bring some more tomorrow..." You told him quietly, glancing over your shoulder as if the guards would hear you. You knew they almost certainly wouldn't, not that they really cared anyway. "It's not a lot, but I'll get you more..."

"You didn't even have to give me this…" He mumbled, finally seeming to accept your gift to him. "I know… But you need it… I'm… I'm not going to miss it.." You admit to him, and he's just… Astounded. Not missing money? He could hardly fathom the idea. It just wasn't a concept in his day-to-day life. It was a small difference between your lives, but at the same time, it was something that had such an impact on both of you. There's a beat of silence as he considers this. "You sure?" He daren't pass this opportunity now - the one time he's found a Top-sider who seems to have any sort of empathy towards him and others like him. You nod, completely and utterly certain in your actions. "Yeah, I'm sure. You need it." "Thank you." The words are quiet, not quite ashamed, but appreciative. Truly and deeply grateful for this kindness, even though to you it was only small. There's another beat of silence, as he considers what to say next. "Name's Vander." "Huh… Suits you." You smile back at him, and Vander just watches you for a moment, almost expectantly. "You going to tell me your name?" He asks you, and you consider doing so for a moment. "Maybe." You reply, a smile playing on your lips. "But… Maybe we should be on better terms first…" "What, so you're now my mysterious benefactor?" He asks, shaking his head a little bit. "Come on… It's just your name…It's not like I'm askin' for your whole life story now, is it?" "Well, no.. but… Well you offered your name first, and I was totally fine to keep things anonymous between us… That's how it's always been, and… I don't know if I'm ready to take the leap out of that mystery just yet…. You know?" You turn to look at him, and after a moment, he begins to nod slowly. "Yeah, I think I know what you mean…" He replies slowly. There's a beat of silence before he speaks again. "I respect it… I won't pry. Could be… Fun, I s'pose… Though I don't know if telling folks back home that I got this money from 'a mysterious topsider' will go down well…" Before you could reassure him about the situation, and give him something to tell the other people back home that wouldn't get him in trouble, he spoke once more. "Ah well… I guess I'll cross that bridge when I get to it, eh?" "You could always say it's from a dear friend?" You suggest to him, and Vander shakes his head. "They'd never believe that, not in a million years… I think the mystery will probably serve me a little better, might be able to make some story with it…" He nods thoughtfully at his own words. "Well, so long as you're sure…" "I am." Vander replies assuredly, clearly despite the inconvenience of the lack of information you've given him has had no effect on his confidence at the moment. "Besides, I think people'll be more concerned about this." He chuckles as he holds up a fist. There's another moment of silence between the two of you. Content, almost friendly. Then, Vander puts his hands on his knees, pushing himself to his feet. You follow suite, and he turns to you. "Well, um… Thank you." He tells you, almost awkwardly. It's clear he's not entirely sure what to say to you here. "I've… Got to get going… But I'll be back, tomorrow, like always… If you are, of course…" "I've never missed a day." You respond with a light chuckle. "You take care of yourself, alright? Try not to get into anymore fights?" You ask, like a concerned parent worrying about their rebellious son. "No promises." Vander laughs quietly, before slowly starting to plod away. "I'll catch you next time…" By the time you've glanced at him to say your own goodbyes, he's gone too far down the path for you to follow. At least today. Perhaps, you think as you turn to start on your own way home, you may be able to summon the courage to cross the bridge at a later date. But for now, you're just happy you have your own little meeting place, with Vander. It'll do, for the time being.

#arcane vander #vander x reader #vander arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane x reader #x reader oneshot #song oneshot #piltover reader #requests open

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the-merrick-archives · 2 years

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A Path Begins

Merrick was in her living room, alone…at least she thought so. It had been a few days since she has spoken to another soul, these changes causing a fear to take hold of her. She didn’t know who, what she was. Only that she could hurt people, be a danger to them. And that terrified her.

But it did something else, too.

“Oh, Merrick…my dear child. Look how much you’ve grown already!”

The voice. That voice. Feminine with a sinister layer just underneath the sweetened tones. Merrick is on her feet, looking around, vibrant purple eyes alight with fear. We’re they here to ask for the Favor?! It was too soon, she barely had time to do anything-

In a far corner, an entity emerged from the shadows, shrouded in black and purple. Similar violet eyes, bright and dangerous, stare out from a hooded face. “I am the last thing you need to be scared of, my child. Do not worry.”

“Violet…w-what is going on? What’s wrong with me?!” Merrick asks, trying to keep the pleading out of her voice and failing.

“Wrong with you? Why, nothing! You are just as you should be, my sweet Merrick.”

“No…no. I-I helped kill a man! And I…there was a part of me that…” Enjoyed it.

“You exterminated a cockroach.” Violet responds coldly, the temperature of the room dropping in response. They glide along the floor, moving closer. “He assaulted you, and lets be honest, would have done much worse if given the chance. Yet you bent him to your will, so that he may help snuff out his own miserable existence. My child, if not for you, he would be doing the same to others, would he not? The first kill is never the easiest, young one.”

Merrick can’t bring herself to speak for a long moment because they made sense. It made the most sense to her, he couldn’t hurt others ever again. She shakes her head and takes a few steps back. “I’m not a killer, I d-don’t want to be. What have you done to me?! I didn’t ask for any of this power! I only wanted to be free of my prison!”

“…Oh, my dear. I’m only a guide on your journey.” They’re circling her now, observing every angle with interest. Merrick shivers. “You are void-touched. No human could spend the amount of time you did in the void and emerge a normal human. Your very being was exposed to energies you can’t possibly comprehend. Or hope to control and contain, if not for my help.”

“And you couldn’t divulge any of this before? You could only come to me in dreams and nightmares and show me what I can do?” She gets the sensation of a hand moving along her cheek and she flinches away.

“I had to test your resolve, Merrick. You are strong, but you cling to the past. You wish to be what you once were, and you cannot.” The shroud suddenly moves to her side, hooded face next to her ear and icy cold breath fanning her cheek as they spoke. “You are not terrified that you helped kill someone. You are terrified that you enjoyed doing it.”

“NO!” Merrick screams, a vase from across the room flies toward Violet, but they are gone before it connects. But they were right, weren’t they?

Violet reappears in front of her. “Mind your tantrums, child. You must learn to control your powers unless you want to hurt someone on accident.” Merrick breathes heavily, eyes glowing as she glares at the being in front of her. “Heed my advice. Follow my visions. Be an instrument of justice. You hold the power to stop those that would do evil against innocents! You were a defender of law in your past life. Now, you have the chance to take it into your own hands. Make your choice, embrace your true nature…or your internal struggle will continue into eternity.”

After another moment, Merrick speaks again, quieter this time. “What is in this for you?”

“All that’s left of our deal is the Favor. If you wish to be strong enough to carry it out, and to stay amongst this plane of existence…you must be strong enough to do what is necessary.” Violet floats backwards, the dim lighting around them fluttering. “I will see you again soon, dear one.

And they are gone. And Merrick is left with a choice.

As much of a choice as it was.

#oc: merrick of violet intent #rp #district attorney #markiplier rp #oc

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n1kolaiz · 3 years

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The Six Realms

Okay, so I was pretty close to giving up on writing analyses but I'm back LMFAO plus I see we're close to 100 followers and I just want to thank you guys for being so very supportive <3

Alright, I'm not sure if anyone's ever written about this, but if an analysis like this exists, please do let me know because I'm kind of curious as to what other people think about this, too!

Remember that time Fukuchi spoke about bringing "about the five signs of an angel's death"?

I read a little bit more about it, and as a minor content warning: this analysis will focus on a few religious aspects (Buddhism + Hinduism). So if I get any of the facts wrong, firstly: I do not mean any disrespect to either religion, and secondly: please do correct me if I interpret anything in the wrong way.

Spoilers for BSD chapter 90 onwards + BEAST!AU under the cut!

So I'll start by talking about the Decay of Angels. As we all know, the members include Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Nikolai Gogol, Sigma, and Bram Stoker, and their leader, Fukuchi Ochi. After Fyodor's arrest, the Decay of Angels came into light with Nikolai murdering four government officials in a week. These murders symbolise the Buddhist cycle of existence, or otherwise known as samsara: the cycle of life, death, and rebirth.

"We are the Decay of Angels—hiding here as terrorists, a 'murder association', five people who will announce the demise of the celestial world."

Nikolai Gogol, chapter 57

Samsara is described to be a concept beyond human understanding. According to Hinduism, samsara is the physical world where every being has its soul trapped into a physical vessel. The Hindus believe that everything has a soul, and due to a soul's attachment to desire, it is forced into a deathless cycle of being born, dying, and reincarnating into a different body. In Buddhism, the ultimate way to break free from this cycle is by obtaining nirvana.

Nirvana is a Sanskrit word for the goal of the Buddhist path: enlightenment or awakening. In Pali, the language of some of the earliest Buddhist texts, the word is nibbana; in both languages it means "extinction" (like a lamp or flame) or "cessation." It refers to the extinction of greed, ill will, and delusion in the mind, the three poisons that perpetuate suffering. Nirvana is what the Buddha achieved on the night of his enlightenment: he became completely free from the three poisons. Everything he taught for the rest of his life was aimed at helping others to arrive at that same freedom.

- TRICYCLE'S definition of nirvana

As Fukuchi mentions in the panel above, there are six different realms of existence. These realms represent every possible state of existence, but one cannot live in a specific realm forever. Depending on whether or not one's past actions were morally good or bad, an individual is born into one of these realms. Basically, the controlling factor of which realm a person is born into is dependent on their respective karma. The realms are separated into two categories: the hellish ones and the heavenly ones.

The Deva Realm: where beings are rewarded for the good deeds they have done. This realm is void of anything unpleasant. It is basically paradise— empty of unfulfilled desires, any form of suffering, and fears of every kind. Religious individuals, however, do not seek to be born into this realm since its attitude is more or less carefree.

The Asura Realm: where demigods are admitted. Asuras are driven by greed and envy, and may come in conflict with human beings since they are quite similar. They are powerful beings, but quarrel with each other quite a bit, making this realm quite undesirable to be reborn into.

The Animal Realm: where beings are given the form of an animal (you probably guessed that lol). Individuals here don't actually have good karma to take pride in, but rather, they are born into this realm to work off their bad karma (by being slaughtered, hunted, or forced to work, etc). Being born into this realm forces one to atone for their past sins by living out their life as an animal.

The Hell Realm: where one is punished for their evil actions. The most merciless of realms, where one pays for their transgressions through pure suffering, methods of which include: dismemberment, starvation, and psychological/physical torture. However, once a person's term is fulfilled in this realm, they are presumably promised to be reborn into a higher state.

The Preta Realm: similar to the hell realm, in which beings pay for their past sins (specifically: greed and stinginess) by having to survive through hunger and thirst. This realm is also known as the 'ghost realm,' because some pretas are psychologically tortured by being forced to live in places their past selves have lived in. They are invisible to human beings living at that time, which pushes them to face the depths of despair and loneliness. Your typical horror movie, really.

The Human Realm: the only realm where one's actions determine their future. The status (social ranking, physical wellbeing, and so on) of a human being in this realm is determined by their past actions, but due to the fact that a person has their own conscience to differentiate good morals from bad, the actions they commit in this realm have the power to determine which realm they are sent to next.

Okay, so now that I've got that out of the way, let's shift our focus to the Book. Very little is known about the Book, but the basic fundamentals of how it works is that whatever is written in the book will come into existence only if its contents follow the rules of karma. In addition to that, only a few sentences can be written into a single page of the Book, and it must follow the current narrative of the story.

If I'm not wrong, the first time the Book was mentioned was by Fitzgerald, who wanted it to resurrect his deceased daughter in hopes of restoring his wife's mental health. The next time the Book is brought up is when Fyodor's intentions to possess it are divulged; his goal was to decimate the global population of ability-users. And now, the current arc has the Book as its central focus, with a single page in Fukuchi's possession.

[ BEAST!AU spoilers ]

The Book acts as the central point of multiverses, with each character's lives differing from universe to universe.

Dazai committing suicide in this alternate universe stands in sharp contrast with how he decided to start up a new life in the main universe.

Oda staying alive to act as a mentor to Akutagawa in the ADA differs from how Oda uses his death to prompt Dazai to "be on the side that saves people."

And of course, the way Atsushi and Akutagawa have their positions switched in the two universes depicts how different their lives would be if they were given the chance to be mentored by different people— these are just a few examples of how the Book houses an endless amount of possibilities.

[ end of BEAST!AU spoilers ]

Hypothetically speaking, this kind of reminds me of the differing realms I mentioned before, where suffering is promised in some realms, and better things are granted in the rest, depending on one's karma, or the deeds they've done in their past lives. In this scenario, perhaps one's past life can be understood as one's current life in a different universe. That's just a personal opinion though. Take it as you will.

side note: Keep in mind that the person who is more or less impervious to the Book's effect is Dazai, with his nullification ability. I wouldn't want to propose any theories in this aspect (I don't believe I'm fully fact-checked ;_;), but I could use Dazai as a raw example of how your choices affect your future. If Dazai had decided to stay in the Port Mafia after Oda's death, or if he even decided to go through with his suicidal fixations, life would've been different for him in the root universe (obviously, ryley) I mean, you could basically understand that from how he ended up in the BEAST au, but imagine if he really did slip up in his decision-making in any of the universes.

Many analysts have proposed that he went MIA (early in his life) from the main universe for a while to figure out how the BEAST universe worked, whilst having the Book to his advantage. Perhaps his actions were guided? I'm not saying he's all-knowing, but he's sure as hell smart. I'm not sure if Kafka was trying to highlight the concept of karma when it comes to Dazai, but if he is, then I suppose you could say that Dazai is pretty much unaffected by the rules of karma, existing as the centerpiece of all the multiverses. No Longer Human is the namesake of his ability, but the book talks about disqualification from societal norms and generally, the world. I was talking about it with a friend, and they reminded me that Yozo (the main protagonist) was pretty strong in his views against society. Like he didn't speak out of total defeat, he spoke out of defense. If there was anything Dazai actually lost to, it was his guilt— "Living itself is a source of sin."

Then again, that's my personal interpretation since everyone has their unique perspective of his writings. In terms of the actual adaptation, you could translate the word 'disqualification' to 'insusceptibilty' when if it came to the Book's effects on Dazai? This side note is becoming really long lmao anyways I'll link a few theories which afflicted me with brainrot down below.

Another thing before I wrap up, the name 'Decay of Angels' stemmed from Yukio Mishima's book entitled 'The Decay of An Angel.' This is the final novel to the author's tetralogy: 'The Sea of Fertility.' The main protagonist, Honda, meets a person he believes to be a reincarnation of his friend, Kiyoaki, who takes the form of a young teenage boy named Tōru. The last novel of this series enhances Mishima's dominant themes of the series as a whole:

the decay of courtly tradition in Japan

the essence and value of Buddhist philosophy and aesthetics

Mishima’s apocalyptic vision of the modern era

Again, this could be referred to what Fukuchi goes on to say:

Some people view the concept of samsara optimistically, justifying it by saying that perhaps each individual is given a second (third, fourth, fifth, who knows) chance to refine their actions in order to be birthed into a better realm, with their karma being the independent variable.

On the other hand, other people, specifically the Hindus, view the cycle of existence as some sort of plague. To them, the flow of life and being forced to endure the suffering of mere existence in any form was somewhat frowned down upon. Some Hindus viewed samsara as a trap. Besides, having one's soul being limited to a physical body for the rest of eternity was not very appealing, especially since where they ended up at depended on the karmic value their past actions surmounted.

Even so, particular types of Buddhists don't seek nirvana, but instead, like the Hindus, they make an effort to be good people of society, building up their good deeds to increase the likelihood of being reborn into one of the better realms.

As mentioned before, the Deva Realm was the home of angels, the most carefree, gratified beings to exist. Fukuchi describes these angels as the people who don't get their hands dirty, the people who act as the puppeteers of society: politicians.

In terms of parallels, angels were the most fortunate and powerful, but they didn't have anyone ruling over them. A lack of supervision would lead to the abuse of power, which is what I believe Fukuchi was referring to. Deeming himself the Decay of Angels, he sought to prove himself as the 'sign of death that falls on the nation's greed.'

A few fun facts (okay, not really) about Yukio Mishima: he committed seppuku (ritual suicide by disembowelment) on the day he held a speech to voice out his unpopular political beliefs to the public. Mishima deeply treasured traditions and opposed the modern mindset the nation was advancing forward to adapt eventually. In his last book, The Decay of an Angel, he spoke about the five signs which complete the death of an angel:

Here are the five greater signs: the once-immaculate robes are soiled, the flowers in the flowery crown fade and fall, sweat pours from the armpits, a fetid stench envelops the body, the angel is no longer happy in its proper place.

The Decay of an Angel, p.53

The reviews about this series I've read so far describe Mishima's works to be quite complex; his writings demanded a lot of time to deconstruct and understand. They were highly symbolic, and he was pretty obsessed with death and the 'spiritual barrenness of the modern world.' I think you could attach a few strings from here to the mindsets of the DOA members. Of course, this parallel is completely abstract, but I'll go on rambling anyway:

He should have armed them with the foreknowledge that would keep them from flinging themselves after their destinies, take away their wings, keep them from soaring, make them march in step with the crowd. The world does not approve of flying. Wings are dangerous weapons. They invite self-destruction before they can be used. If he had brought Isao to terms with the fools, then he could have pretended that he knew nothing of wings.

The Decay of an Angel, p.113

I suppose you could resonate Nikolai with that excerpt. As much as Fukuchi takes the lead in this whole murder association, I'd like to believe that each member of the DOA plays an equally interesting part in whatever movement they're trying to execute. Fyodor feels it is his god-sent purpose to cleanse the world of its sins, his motto being, "Let the hand of God guide you." Sigma doesn't know where he belongs, since his origination comes from a page in the Book, and is fueled by the desperation to find a reason to live. Bram holds one of the most powerful abilities which is counted to be one of the "Top Ten Calamities to Destroy the World."

What I mean to say is that the DOA members are incredibly powerful, and they're not your ordinary antagonists (or I'm just biased). It's not just overthrowing authorities, mass genocide, and world domination— you could say that each individual is trying to utilize their purposes to their fullest expenditures, and the way they're trying to assert their plan into action is a little more passive-aggressive (framing the Agency, having a convo with a suicidal dude in jail, etc). They're the gray area between evil and good. As they framed the good guys for their own crimes, they're trying to conquer the bad guys for exploiting the innocent as they please.

This post would definitely age well if all hell breaks loose in the current arc (as if it didn't) and Kafka doesn't give us a happy ending.

That's all I have to say for now I guess! Thank you for reading, and once again, if anyone else something they wanna share, feel free to do so <3

sources (tryna follow Q's example ^_^) :

the six realms

samsara

the decay of angels

beast!au

the book

the sea of fertility

yukio mishima

theory: dazai’s emotional/mental state in beast!au

q’s theory: dazai being the protector of the book

theory: beast!dazai and the book

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volleychumps · 4 years

Note

Requesting cheating angst with Kuroo, Iwaizumi, Akaashi, and Atsumu? Rip my heart apart please😌😌♥️

oH SHIT let’s do a remix on the fluff for this one post, everybody- I’m in an angsty mood so uh, eskettit :( I couldn’t make it past Akaashi’s scenario and I had so many breaks, so proceed at your own risk, everyone!

Turn and Keep Going. (Kuroo, Iwaizumi, and Akaashi) - angst -

TW: CHEATING, CURSING, ANGST- no fr I ugly cried and I wrote it

Kuroo

“Y/N. Where do you keep the extra towels again?”

You didn’t mean to see it. In fact, if you had the choice on whether or not you did-

you would have chosen not to.

The phone in your hand became tightened in an iron-clad grip as a chuckle with a nervous tinge to it slipped Kuroo’s mouth, and the world seemed to drown out for a moment. As if the world around you submerged into the water of the sea, where everything you could hear was jumbled as a strange heat flooded your vision, choking your lungs with the salt of the ocean.

“Y/N?” The garbled voice was questioning now as your eyes stayed glued to the screen, of the naked set of breasts and invites, even worse-

the accepting replies.

That was all it took for you to flinch away from the hand that Kuroo had carefully set on your back hunched over the device, the towel he had been using to dry off his hair falling to the floor in a heap of material as the raven-haired boy finally entered your bedroom from his post-practice shower.

Still, the phone remained tightened in your hand so tight to the point where your knuckles were turning white.

“Why are you going through my phone?” The accusatory edge to Kuroo’s voice had risen, and so did you to your feet, the device hitting the floor next to the towel as you fight to keep your head afloat.

“How long?” Your voice cracked, no matter how hard you fought the breaking feeling spreading across your chest as Kuroo seemed to still completely, and you didn’t need to look at him fully in the face to know how utterly guilty he looked.

“W-What do you-?”

“Don’t.” Your voice was soft, refusing to meet the captain’s eyes now, not knowing just who was standing in your room.

Not knowing just who was the man now holding your face in his hands, urging you to look at him with his own flood falling on his cheeks as his words remained garbled. Still, you let him.

“Baby. Kitten-fuck. I don’t know what you think you saw, but I love you! I wasn’t completely there when I-”

“Fucked her?” Your voice hadn’t risen, eyes glazed over in a haze as Kuroo’s voice hitched.

“No. Nononono- Y/N, kitten-”

“T-Tetsurou?” The name felt foreign on your tongue as your head finally rose to meet his, willing everything inside you to hold it back as Kuroo held you tighter, as if his arms would salvage what was falling apart.

“Get out.”

“Y/N. Please.” His voice fell to a whisper-

and the dam broke.

“I SAID GET THE HELL OUT.” You screamed, falling to your knees as your arms wrapped around yourself, knowing you were all you had in the world at the moment. You saw his legs approach you, before hesitating and turning the other way, clenched fists creating bloody marks in his hands from his fingernails as he complied.

“And Tetsurou.” You spat just as his legs stall in the doorway, watching as Kuroo’s feral and playful eyes that once painted every edge of your universe seemed to be fighting to remain stable. The captain heard those words, and couldn’t fight the sobs beginning to wreck his body as the voice he loved echoed in his ears with parting words-

Your voice didn’t crack this time.

“Don’t come back.”

Iwaizumi

“She’s a nobody.”

You jump at the sound of the voice, humorless chuckle slipping your lips as Iwa steps to your side, dark eyes looking tired and void of any light that might had once lit up his dark irises. You look out at the landscape, still looking straight forward as the ace settles next to you, hanging his forearm across his bent knee.

“How did you find me?”

“It’s been two years. I know you, Y/N.” Iwaizumi’s eyes bore into your side profile, and more sarcastic giggles make their way past your lips as you hug your knees to your chest, jabbing him where it hurts.

“Funny. I really thought I knew you, Hajime-”

“Don’t you start with that shit.”

You lazily finally meet Iwa’s eyes, causing the ace to feel the lump growing in his throat at the amount of light drained from the look of them, mirroring his own. Iwa moistens his lips, trying to get his head back on track as the heat tinges at the sides of his eyes.

“We love each other, don’t we?”

“Yeah. We did.”

Iwa flinches at the past-tense term, feeling his breathing hollow out at the sound of it.

“We must’ve at some point, right?” All cried-out, you watch the sun seem to slowly sink into the horizon in a mix of color as your eyes soak in its’ prettiness, as if the light from the sun would somehow bring the gleam back to your eyes-

but every time you closed them, all you saw was Iwaizumi fiercely kissing another girl in the passenger seat of her car, fist clenched in her hair as he kissed her with anger from the fight he had with you-

“You do. You love me.” The denial sunk in as you laugh. And you laugh some more as if that were the most idiotic thing in the world. “And I love you, Y/N- princess, we can make this work and get through this-!”

“I don’t want to, though.” You cut him off, drawing circles in the dirt as you remember the nights teasing Iwa for showing too little emotion- not knowing that the most you would get out of him would be after he stuck his tongue down another girl’s throat.

“Don’t you get that?” You shake your head, smiling as if you can’t believe it, shoving Iwa’s attempt of holding you off of you as you raise to your feet, soaking in the colors as they fade to a more dark color palate.

“I don’t give a fuck about some nobody, don’t you get that?!” Iwa’s on his feet now too, and you finally begin to crack as you look out to the horizon, a familiar heat flooding your vision as you smile.

“Hey, Hajime.” You ignore his cry, prompting the dark-haired boy to look in the same direction you were. “This is where it all started, didn’t it? Where you kissed me, and promised that you would always protect me, right?”

Iwa’s own eyes brim with frustration as the stinging heat from earlier takes over, feeling the mix of regret and heartbreak begin to settle in as you turn and give him a smile. No sarcastic intention behind it as you close your eyes, Iwa’s eyes widening at the sight of something he’d never get to see again.

“I guess you really don’t know me, after all.” You smile to the point where its’ painful, spinning on your heel. “I came because I knew you’d find me, not to fix whatever this is, but-”

You’re turned around now, the sun fading into night as you will your legs to keep walking.

“To say goodbye to you, Hajime.”

And so, the dark-haired ace watched as you walked off into the distance and out of his life for a problem he created, yells of frustration enclosed in his throat and the need to punch something ever-so prevalent-

as the sky above now swirled with dark pigment.

Akaashi

“Don’t. Don’t go, please.”

“Keiji, let go.” You tug your arm in an attempt to make the messy-haired boy release you, trembling when he pulls you into his chest, burying his head in your neck as the hot tears hit your skin, prompting you to bite your lip and fight the urge to hold him back as your own eyes burn. If he wouldn’t let you go, then-

You can’t help the vicious words from slipping. “She’s waiting, you should go to her, shouldn’t you?”

“Stop. D-Don’t say that-”

“Am I wrong?” Your voice remains stable to your surprise, causing Akaashi to tighten his hold on you even more. “The girl who came out after you in your shower...who is she?”

“No one! No one, Y/N, you were so far for so long, and-”

“And what?” You question emotionlessly. “You have needs? You were lonely? Cut the bullshit.”

“Do you know what it’s been like?” Akaashi’s voice is soft with an angry edge as he pulls back, still holding you in his arms as if to keep you there for an eternity, and for a minute, time does stop-

and you soak in the reality. Life tore you two apart, distanced yet together, far away yet still part of the same relationship. The blue-eyed boy would never be able to rewind the clock and keep you as his no matter what life hurled-

“Let go.”

“Fuck if I do.”

Your strong exterior begins to crumble as Akaashi watches with now widened eyes as the viciousness drains only to be replaced with sorrow, relief filling his heart when you hold him back just as tightly, your chin resting on his shoulder as your grateful he won’t be able to see what kind of expression crosses your features.

“Keiji.” You whisper almost child-like, causing Akaashi’s heart to swell with hope until the next words make his heart stop.

“Eat healthy, will you? I know Bokuto likes to drag you around to all these places, but too much ramen isn’t good for you-”

“Y/N?”

“And please, for god sakes, make sure you remember to pick up your suit from the laundromat on Thursdays, I know you’re presentations are usually on Fridays-”

“Y/N.”

“Oh, and don’t forget- you always make it a point to drop by Konoha’s for a guy night on the fourth of every month, so don’t drink too much because it gives you a massive migraine in the middle of the night-”

“Y/N!”

“And Keiji?” You pull back, corners of your mouth pulled back as you cup his face gently, leaning your forehead against his as Akaashi Keiji freezes in shock as the love of his life, his future, his world-

Smiles a wordless goodbye, capturing his lips as Akaashi wonders how to turn the hands of time, forcing the laws of nature to bend for his selfish desires as his arms slacken-

“Be happy.” You whisper, retracting your arms and hands before stepping out of his now weak grip, brushing past him with a finality in your steps as time refuses to stop, Akaashi fighting every instinct on forcing you to stay with him-

letting you go as the hands of time continue to move along with your steps away from him, the setter lifting a hand to his mouth before he falls to his knees and looks up to the sky-

wishing he had more hours, minutes, and seconds to see that smile for just a bit longer.

“Yeah. You do the same, love.”

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

LMAO GO READ SOME OF MY FLUFF IF THIS MADE YOU SAD I’M SORRY

General works: @takemetovalhalla @kasandrafaye @savemesteeb @dreebbles @yams046

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu kuroo #Kuroo Tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu akaashi #haikyuu akaashi keiji #haikyuu iwaizumi #Iwaizumi Hajime #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu angst #tw: cheating

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watermelonlipstick · 3 years

Text

Distraction (Request)

This was a request for @sergeantsea, who asked:

Hi angel!! I was wondering if you could write something with the reader slow dancing w Sam? Maybe they have to pretend to be together to do a mission?

It was a total blast to write--SUCH a cute idea. I hope this is something like you were thinking.

Title: Distraction

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1673

Summary: A misstep during a case requires a distraction and some quick thinking.

Warnings: canon-appropriate threat of violence, mention of alcohol, fluffy fluff fluff, a little teaspoon of smut-adjacent action 😜

You tried to make the quick strides across the room look purposeful rather than frantic and resisted the urge to check over your shoulder for whether the pair had followed you across the bar. It had been stupid to try to eavesdrop without the pretense of another conversation to cover, and when the vampires had both looked up at the same time, you were sure you were done for.

“Look alive,” you hissed, grabbing Sam’s hand and yanking him up from the cracked leather stool he was leaning on. He had to stretch against your grip to rest his pool cue on the wall, giving an apologetic smile to the denim-clad guys he and Dean had been playing. Didn’t matter much, Dean could hustle the two of them by himself anyway.

“What’s going on?” Sam muttered, low and serious as he caught up, trailing just barely behind you so that the words played against the back of your neck, the delicate heat of them along your skin already easing some of the panic you had been feeling.

“I might’ve just gotten us made—don’t look,” you said with a smile you hoped would look flirtatious to a bystander, turning to curl a hand around the back of his neck as a safeguard to prevent his inevitable impulse to check it out.

“Uh, okay. What’s the plan?”

“Just two regular people in a regular bar doing some regular dancing.”

You could feel Sam’s neck tense under your palm.

“You know, I’m really not so good at—”

“Sorry, you’re going to have to pretend unless you’ve got a better option. Smile, please,” you said through the gritted teeth behind your put-on smile, and Sam gave a tight-lipped facsimile as the song shifted, Lionel Richie singing “know it sounds funny but I just can’t stand the pain,” smooth as silk even over the dive’s old speakers . You took Sam’s hand and set it on your hip before floating your free fingers behind his neck. He followed suit somewhat tentatively, holding you with big paws as carefully as if you were some antique Christmas ornament.

“Can I look yet?” he smiled down at you, grin only partly exasperated. You moved a misplaced lock of hair back to the right side of his loose part and tried not to flush at the way he deliberately closed his eyes while you did.

One of your hands traced down the collar of his flannel, resting on his lapel and closing a few more inches between your waists. “Sure. Stocky guy in blue and a blond guy with a goatee.”

Sam checked back from where you’d come under the pretense of tucking you under his chin. When he spoke it was like stepping into a hot shower, soothing warmth flowing over the crown of your head. “They’re definitely watching. You sure it’s only those two? They’re sitting with a bigger table and no one’s talking.”

“Fuck. How many?”

“Uh, how fast do you think you can get to the car?”

“That bad? Spin me, I wanna see.”

He obliged, slipping his hand into your lax grip on his neck and guiding your hips around a small spin that was just enough for you to see the overflowing booth the two had slid into, at least 7 or 8 angry-looking probably-vamps with eyes trained on you and Sam.

When you turned back toward him, an easy, cheeky grin spread over his face as Sam slid an arm to your lower back and interlaced the fingers of his other hand with yours. “I didn’t realize you were this much trouble. What’d you do, spit in their beer?”

“Very funny. Are they buying this?” You rested your palm on his shoulder, feeling the ripple of the muscles as his fingers spread out over your back.

Sam chuckled and you felt the vibration of his chest into your forearms, starting to feel like a competition cheerleader with the plastered-on smile. “Gimme a sec, I don’t want to look suspicious.” He started incrementally rotating the two of you and you knew it was tactical, so he could see both Dean and the booth. Didn’t really help you either way, field of vision pretty much entirely blocked by the broad span of Sam’s chest. Knowing that he was trying to better his position signaled to you to get ready, and you held a deep breath in an effort to calm your racing heartbeat. He leaned back a touch. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just such a fucking rookie move, I feel like an idiot.”

“Don’t sweat it. If it’s a rookie move, I must be a rookie too. And usually the warning Dean gives me for shit like this is yelling for me 6 punches in.”

You snickered a little into the flannel of his shirt despite yourself. “Thanks.”

The two of you swayed together through a chorus. “Come on Dean, you idiot, look up,” Sam murmured to himself. Dean was lining up a shot he could hit backwards with his eyes closed like he needed laser precision, blissful ignorance allowing him to concentrate only on hustling the guys he was playing for a couple hundred bucks and not the imminent danger. A few people got up from the booth and began making their way across the bar. You could see them in your peripheral vision and knew even if Dean miraculously glanced up now and got with the program lightning-fast you’d be in trouble based on sheer numbers alone.

“You trust me?” he asked fervently.

“Yeah, of course I—” you stammered, immediately cut off by the plush crash of Sam’s lips into yours, the deepened pressure of his hand sealing your torsos together. After the briefest stunned moment you got the picture, kissing Sam back cautiously. You let him pull you closer, relaxed into his arms and dragged the hand you had on his shoulder down to gently hold onto his lapel, feeling a little dizzy even through the relative chasteness of the kiss. He disentangled his fingers from yours and slid them to your neck, the tiny chill of each of his wintry fingertips sending goosebumps down your spine as he cradled your head. Hands on his collar, you didn’t even think to stop yourself when you wrapped the flannel up, pure instinct driving your motion. Sam wound through the hair at the back of your neck and those instincts betrayed you again, nipping at his bottom lip on reflex and slipping your tongue into his mouth, somehow sweet over the cheap beer you’d all been drinking throughout the night—perfect—and Sam was much less nervous than you would’ve thought when he took a sharp inhale in surprise but didn’t back down, met your escalation as readily as he supported your weight against him.

And then you were well and truly in it, Sam’s hand hitching up the back of your tee as he reached for a better grip on you, your grabbing at his shirt popping open a button so you could feel the impossible heat off his chest and get towed under by it like a current, like a magnetic field, and you couldn’t stop, needed more and more, mind a fuchsia cloud of want totally void of intelligent thought or awareness of your surroundings even as you had been so panicked minutes before.

The spell was broken by a wolf whistle from one of Dean’s opponents, and you broke apart with a lascivious pop of suction. Inches from you, Sam’s eyes were half lidded and kissed stupid, the pink of his lips feathered out to match the flush in his cheeks. You glanced toward the pool table to find the almost-hustled men leering at you and Sam from where they stood next to Dean, whose face had landed exactly halfway between stunned and disbelieving.

Addressing his brother, Sam cleared his throat and breathed, “We were just—” looking back toward where the crew had been closing in and finding nothing, the group now playing some rowdy game and crawling all over each other to stay in the booth, not paying any attention to you or Sam. “We were, uh, just—” he tried again, still at a loss for words.

“Get a room,” Dean teased, play-nauseated, eyebrows twisted so far up on his forehead you were surprised they weren’t pushing his hair back.

“No, it wasn’t—”

“In front of God and everybody,” he continued, roguish twinkle overcoming the surprise in his eyes. You could feel the heat rising in your face and hastily stepped back from Sam, yanking your shirt down the few inches it had risen. Sam seemed not to notice his open buttons as he froze, still facing Dean. “By all means, don’t let us stop you.” He supported his weight on his pool cue, face as clear a challenge as anything.

Sam ruffled the back of his hair sheepishly and took the ribbing with tightened lips. “Yeah, okay. Ha-ha.”

“I’m going to, uh, grab another beer. Do you want one?” you asked Sam quietly, hoping Dean and the pool players might lose interest.

“Sure, yeah. I—ah, I’m gonna—” he stuttered, face screwing up in a silent, bashful “help me?” smile while his shoulders bunched around his neck. You started to giggle, nerves finally catching up to you, and bit your lip to hold your smile together.

“Go finish your game?”

Sam chuckled and nodded, looking at his feet.

You took a deep breath. “Um, thanks for saving me back there. I won’t make the same mistake again, I promise.”

He flicked his gaze up, grin split open at the side to show a few teeth as he ran his tongue over his molars, framed by an impossibly sliced dimple. “I—ah, I wouldn’t mind if you made that mistake again.”

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

Tags: @sams-sass @vxnderlindes @deanwinchesterswitch @akshi8278 @itsjensenanddean @flannellover67 @weepingwillowphoenix @tj-drinks-tea @whatareyousearchingfordean @winchestergirl2 @winchest09 @samwisethegr8 @fawnxng @nurse-sarahrn @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love @thewinchesterandreidwhore @deanwanddamons @stressedoutkitten @winchestershiresauce @tatted-trina6 @percico-heronstairs @downanddirtydean @queenoftheunderdark @lyarr24 @wonder-cole @sergeantsea

And as always, if you want to be on my taglist, were on the taglist and changed your handle, or I lost track of it, please let me know!

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fanficsrusz · 3 years

Text

Lure Of The Maw Chapter Two - Henry Cavill Pirate AU

Warnings: Eventual Smut. Kidnapping. Mentions of physical harm. Men being Pervy. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN SOCIAL MEDIA CONSUMPTION. NOT ME. THEREFORE I DO NOT ACCEPT ANY RESPONSIBILITY IF YOU GET TRIGGERED FROM THIS POINT ON. If you read and you feel like I’ve missed a T/W then please let me know nicely and I will adjust ❤️.

Pairing: Y/n x Pirate Henry cavill

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Y/n’s sheltered life comes crashing down when pirates use her to get what they want.

A/n; I take way to long to update anything but here we are 😂. I still have no idea what I want to happen do enjoy the nonsense until i finally get a proper plot.

Chapter one

Sleep came like the falling of an axe. I knew it must come but I fought it with everything that I had. Those defenceless hours, oblivious to my surroundings, were enough to light up my whole body with fiery sparks that make me want to scream with anger and cry with fear. I am utterly wired until that time when I cannot fight it anymore and the sleep is as instantaneous as it is unwelcome. I have some warning though, when my thoughts become intertwined with random ideas, impossible ideas, I seek my flimsy bed, not what I'm used to, and hope I can get maybe even an hour's sleep before I have to experience the horror show that is reality.

Tucked into the little shelf that night, the sleep pooled on my eyelids, and the wooden ship was filled with the soft sounds of people sleeping. The wind swooped up, over the heights of the sails, rushed and rustled through the creaking beams, and gradually ebbed away through the crags to silence that wasn't filled with the waves crashing against the side of the ship. No longer did the rocking make me feel sick, but instead created a soothing rhythm to which rocked me to sleep.

The previous day had been quiet, nothing to feel the numbing void of darkness that was offered from the bare walls. Those few hours alone was enough to make me crave any type of communication, any voice, any entertainment. But instead I only found comfort in the darkness of my eyelids.

I had no idea how long I had been asleep for until I woke to the sound of breathing that wasn't my own. It was heaving, like a man's and rapid as if he's run into the room. I listen, still, trembling as the memories of where I am rush back. He's moving slowly, his heavy feet creaking floor boards that are silent for me.

"Wake up, Princess" there booms that deep voice that still sends shivers down my spine and despite the heat that floods my body, I remain still in the poorly lit room. I can hear him lean against a beam in the room, his hands tapping gently against metal - probably his sword, or belt buckle. The way he calls me princess is more of a sarcastic humour rather than being respectful and I fight the urge to roll my eyes beneath my closed lids.

I can hear him huffing to himself when I don't respond to him and within seconds he's calling out to me again.

"For God sake, heavy sleeper are we?" I hear his weight shift again and this time the heavy strides of his steps come closer and before I can even register anything, I can feel his hand on my shoulder as he roughly shakes me.

My eyes shoot open as a gasp leaves my lips and he pulls away from me. I sit up straight and throw my legs off of the bed as I jump to my feet, trying to make my body appear as large as possible, as if he was a bear.

"I would prefer it if you didn't lay your dirty hands upon me again, captain!" His title came out as a bitter poison that I hoped would cause him some pain, something I had come to do just as he called me princess. I could have walked away had it not been for the smirk. That little rise in the corner of his mouth he was oblivious to combined with the cool detachment in his eyes that was mixed with a playful gleam of excitement that seemed to spark in his eyes.

I had unintentionally given him inner delight. He was savouring the moment as if it was a sweet nectar.

"Sleep well?"

Maybe it was his stupid face or his stupid tone, or maybe just my lack of control but I once again found my self taking a swing at him with as much ease as the restraints around my wrist would allow. But with a grunt Henry caught my wrist mid air.

That deep, low, chuckle that only he could manage echoed through the cabin again and I felt my teeth dig into my cheeks as he tightened his grip on my wrist.

"Barely even awake and already taking swings at me." his smirk remained unchanged as he stared down at me and with a rapid jerking motion of my arm, I pulled my hand from his grip.

"You're going to have to be faster than that next time"

Henry's stillness scared me. Perhaps it is the faint sunlight making his skin gleam, or the lack of wind letting every hair hang without movement, I'm not sure. He doesn't even blink. Our bodies sway with the movement of the ship, a lazy and understated rocking motion. It's times like this where if this was someone else, I would turn away and try to hide from their gaze, but not with Henry. He had this power over me that even I couldn't explain.

Henry had quite forgotten what one can see in peripheral vision and his eyes are walking from my hair line to my feet and back up again. In short, he is staring and there seems no end to his fascination. The only time his gaze breaks is when I clear my throat in an attempt to calm my thumping heart.

"I guess I will just keep on practicing".

With a swish on my dress, I take my seat again, holding my back straight and folding my arms as best as I could as I turn my gaze to the small window in the room.

I can feel Henry's gaze on me for a moment longer and from my peripheral vision I can see his tongue lick over his bottom lip.

"I have some businesses to talk to you about". The playful tone in his voice had stilled and instead was replaced by a more serious one and I rolled my eyes.

"And what's that? Is my scent to hypnotic for your idiotic crew" sarcasm.

I expected some sort of laugh or sarcastic comeback but instead all i got was a serious response.

"We have received word from your father" just like how Henry had turned serious, I too felt my body stiffen as I snapped my head to look at him, analysing to see if he was telling the truth.

"What?"

"Read for yourself" He produced a single piece of parchment from his pocket, the bright red wax sigil was one I was oh so familiar with.

With a push I was on my feet and with two large strides I found myself inches in front of Henry as I snatched the paper from his hands. My eyes skimmed over the cursive letters, my mind numbing at the words that laid there.

"It seems we have a deal"

Shock brings a quietness within, a moment to feel my emotions change gear and numb my soul for what is to come. My brain stutters for a moment and my eyes take in more light than I expected, every part of me goes on pause while my thoughts catch up.

"Looks like he really does care about you after all" Henry's sarcastic tone returns and for once I don't know what to say.

"No" that's the only word on my mind as I reread the words over and over again. "My father would have never made a deal with people like you!"

"Well whether you believe it or not, Princess, your father has agreed to disburse the taxes back to my people in exchange for your safe return".

My eyes glance up at him through my lashes and I shove the paper back into his hand as I turn my back to him, not quite sure what I was feeling. How could my father bargain with - pirates?

With a sigh Henry continues.

"I'm just waiting for word from a friend in the village to make sure he does what he says and then your father has demanded that I leave you with a fleet of his royal guards, about a four days journey from here" I hear his voice waver a little and all I do is remain silent.

"So that's it then? I can go home in four days"

"As long as your father keeps his end of the deal then you will be sipping tea and eating your fancy pansy food by the end of the week and I will be nothing more than a distant memory"

That's what I was afraid of. Maybe it was seeing the same castle walls for the past countless years or the constant routine of being followed by guards everywhere, but with Henry, I felt a spark of excitement, endless thoughts of what could happen rather than knowing every little detail of what my future holds. And even if Henry didn't say it, I could see the look in his eyes when I disobeyed him or talked back to him. He enjoyed it just as much as I did.

His face remained motionless for a second more before his lips turned up again in what I had come to assume was his factory setting.

"Did you think I was lying? That I wouldn't keep up my end of the deal?" he chuckled lowly as he stepped forward and I felt my feet remain in their spot. "Just because I'm a pirate doesn't doesn't inherently make me a liar"

I could feel his breath on my face, the smell of alcohol strong but not unbearable, instead it was almost intoxicating but for all the wrong reasons.

"I had a mission princess." I watched as his eyes darkened and I felt the way his warm, rough fingers found my skin, wrapping around my neck with ease as he gently squeezed. I could breathe but I was more than aware that he could take that from me at any moment. I didn't move, didn't jump or didn't scream. I only stared at him, watching my reflection in his eyes.

"It wasn't to take you…. To torture you or - have my way with you" I heard the desperation in his voice and I to felt a familiar warmth in my stomach as I tried to control myself.

His eyes remained focused on me, as did mine on him. I swallowed hard and it made me all the more aware of his hand on my throat and the power he held over me.

Just as the warmth became almost unbearable, he pulled his hand away and it left a burning that I know no one could even recreate.

"No. It was to simply get your father's attention" Henry cleared his throat as he turned away from me, trying and failing to hide the fact that he was readjusting himself. "and Now that I have that, you can rest easy. Enjoy your few days at see and then you can be back home"

Seeing the effect I blatantly had on him made my heart twirl and hearing his voice made my stomach flutter. I can't help but feel this way about him.

Pin-drop silence...? How is that remotely possible with my heart somersaulting. His mahogany hair moving through his fingers as he brushed it back in a way I have come to adore and his cerulean eyes locking onto me as he turned back to face me in a trance with such intensity; looking away is unthinkable. His eyes constrict as he winked at me, unaware of the repercussions. The dimples that indent in the corners of his embellished skin is my last coherent thought as I become painfully aware of the silence that wrapped around us.

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks as Henry looked in my direction, he grinned and I snapped my head away, knowing that if I continued to stare I would get lost in his big blue eyes. I could feel his eyes still on me, I silently inhaled and exhaled, hoping that his thoughts about me were good.

"I'm hungry" I quickly spurt out, not really knowing what else to say. What else could I say? I want to feel your touch on me again? I don't want to go back home because I can't stop thinking about what could happen between us? You make me feel something I've never felt before? I want to have your cock as deep inside me as humanly possible? This man was turning me into a harlot.

Henry smiled to himself, his eyes dropping as he inhaled deeply.

"Very well, i'll send something in".

With a nod of his head he sent a member of the crew off to fulfill my request. Henry turned around to leave but not before taking one last look up and down my body. He may have thought I didn't see that, but I did.

"Captain?" I called out hastily and he stopped in his tracks and his attention was back on me.

I said nothing and only extended my binded hands in his direction. Henry raised his eyebrows in confusion before finally letting them fall as he realised what I was asking of him.

"What? No!" he huffed out a chuckled and I let my arms drop back to my body

"How does once expect me to eat with these"

"Well you seemed to manage quite fine when trying to attack me earlier. Not to mention how you busted my lip not too long ago as well" Henry crossed his arms and my face remained stoic.

"it's not going to happen, Princess. No offence but I don't fancy waking up with a knife to my throat" I opened my mouth to protest but decided against it seeing as he was half right.

I felt my lip twitch in annoyance as I suddenly accepted the fact that the binds were there to stay for a while longer and I shifted on my feet.

"I don't blame you. I would do the same if I was in the same situation - fight back that is." His eyes softened a little in reassurance and my heart once again flipped. "But nonetheless, the ropes stay tied".

Henry once again turned to leave me but for some reason I just couldn't stop myself. I wanted him to stay with me almost.

"My father really isn't a bad man" I watched as Henry's shoulders stiffened and he sighed heavily.

"How I do wish to live in that fantasy world you get to live in"

He slowly turned again and the soft expression and playful smirk were gone, instead replaced with an angered grimace.

"He is a bad man. He's a murderer and a thief." his eyes remained dark with rage.

"Let's just say I wouldn't lose a night's sleep if I got the chance to kill him myself, I can tell you that" his rage subsided a little as he noticed my wide eyes and his chuckle once again filled the room.

"Don't worry, princess. Your daddy's going to be just fine unless he goes back on his word. if he takes you and then goes back on his promise, he's going to lose more than just you. He'll lose his limbs, his eyes, he's tongue and just about everything else".

I remained silent through his little threat. Henry huffed a little, running his hand over his beard.

"I'm not a monster, princess. I may be a brood and violent at times. But I have my reasons for the way I am. Can you say the same for your father?" His voice became softer and calmer than I had heard before. I couldn't tell who was lying. Him. Or me. The one person who kept saying my father wasn't a monster.

I saw those gravity-drawn shoulders painting a picture of Henry's heart, as if neither it nor his soul would welcome a beat. I see in his eyes that his brain had built some new walls with him so lonely on the other side. I too knew that same feeling as I felt the tears burn the edges of eyes.

My eyes fell to the floor and I watched as he stepped closer to me, his hand coming to tap my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

His eyes were so different in that moment, more soft than I knew eyes could be. The dangerous pirate who could kill me at any second was gone and instead they were the eyes of one who cared deeply. If it were anyone else I would drop my gaze, but with him, I'm drawn in closer, always wanting more. In his eyes is humanity, the person he really is and not what the world saw him as.

"The world is a cruel place and the truth is cold, y/n" he spoke my name with such delicacy and it made me feel warm inside. Never before did my name sound so beautiful.

"you've had the luxury of hiding from it, but I haven't. You could judge me for the way I turned out and I can sure as hell judge you too. Safe, naive, sheltered, believing that everything is good and all is right. All the while my people are being beaten, hung, dragged behind on horses as they scream for their lives - " his voice grew in volume and the rage he felt was understandable and I felt sorry for him. " - and for what? For not being able to pay some ridiculous tax?"

Henry's breathing became heavy, rugged and uneven and my heart ached to hug him, to apologise for everything.

"All I can say is ask him yourself when you get back. See if his eyes speak true to his innocence." Behind that icy stare was a mountain of pain, yet extracting it would bring pain and instability.

We stood in silence, the only thing keeping me from crying was the fact that my teeth dug into my cheeks, a trick I was taught by a maid to control my emotions years ago.

Neither of us moved until a knock filled the silence and we both shifted away from each other. I wiped my eyes of their vacant tears and Henry cleared his throat. I turned my head away from the man who entered the room with a tray of food, and I listened closely as I heard two sets of footsteps leave the room without another word.

My thoughts were blank. What a strange occurrence. Normally my thoughts were twisting and turning; suffocating me with their whispers. But now, nothing. What did I know? I knew nothing. I lived a lie and now I didn't know what to do.

I chewed my nail impatiently, my foot bouncing against the wood below them and I needed answers of the truth.

"Princess!" that deep voice called out to me from down the hall outside my room and I jumped to my feet, straightening out my dress a little in the process.

The second I saw his head of hair peer round the door, I allowed my face to hold its stoic position as I waited to see what he wanted.

"Good evening. How was your dinner?" His eyes fell to the empty plate that once held an array of foods from chicken to nuts and dates, not what I had expected from a pirate ship. In all honesty they could have given me a stale piece of bread and I would have consumed every crumb within seconds.

"It was satisfactory" I held my head high as he picked up the plate and handed it to someone else.

"Oh my sincere apologies on behalf of the ship's cook for disappointing your majesty" he gave a small bow and it stunned me how his cocky nature had quickly returned and I was still caught up in my emotions.

"Are you mocking me, Captain?" His eyes squinted slightly as he drew out a long hum before nodding profusely.

"hmmm, yes" he laughed loudly and I rolled my eyes.

"Well if that is all you intend to do I request to be alone"

"That's not all I came down here for".

He peeked my interest and I peered at him intently.

"No, I came to check in on you. Give you a little bit of company" Henry looked around the room as if he had never seen it before himself as he took a seat on a chair that sat in the corner, the wood creaking under his weight.

"it does get awfully lonely down here and something tells me you aren't one to go without attention"

I stared him down and blew a strand of hair from my face.

"Don't take me for a fool, captain" my voice was strong and unfaltering and Henry held his hands up defensively.

"Caught me in a lie you did" he chuckled again before sitting back comfortably. His eyes stared at my body again before landing on my face that I was sure had a tint of red.

"Alright, I confess - You fascinate me"

Words left me as my mind went blank.

"w-what?" the only word that seemed I was able to speak.

"Well I just can't stay away. I'm actually going to miss having you aboard. You've got a fire inside you that no one seems to dampen. Never before have I had someone speak to me the way you do. I thought about the day someone finally did and I imagined what they would look like. But a princess never seemed to fit that description. You're definitely more than I bargained for".

I felt almost embarrassed as he stared at me, the warmth in my stomach almost matching the warmth that radiated from my chest.

"Not once have you wailed or cried in self pity. You haven't begged for your life or your father's" he shook his head as he seemed to remember something, an inside joke maybe. Henry wagged his finger at me and chuckled.

"But you. You take swings at me, spit in my face and you fight back".

I felt a small smile pull at my lips as pride filled me.

"So?"

"so, if I stay here for a little while will I get hurt again?"

The smile on my face grew a little at the admittance that I had managed to hurt him.

"No" I simply said, taking a seat on my bed.

"tell me. Will you be happy to return?" The smile I had faded just as quick as it had appeared and even I didn't know the answer to that but thankfully Henry was too eager with his questions to allow me to linger on that one.

"What's it even like there? To live in luxury? I reckon my imagination doesn't do it justice"

I felt a sarcastic remark bite at my tongue and I couldn't control it.

"It's more than an animal like you deserves" I glanced at him briefly with a glint of resistance before turning my gaze back to the wall.

"Oh I see. You know it's funny, princess" Henry stood from his seat and slowly marched to stand in front of me, hands behind his back as his eyes remained on me. "Your lips insult me… But your eyes twinkle as they do"

I swallowed the lump in my front as I crossed my legs and straightened my posture.

"I have no idea what you are talking about"

Henry chuckled, stepping closer to me before leaning down so his face was inches away from mine.

"You know what I think? I think I am no more of an animal to you than you are a rich, spoiled brat to me" our eyes met and I could see the resistance that both of us held. His eyes flickered down to my lips for a second and I could tell he didn't mean to do it. "I think we both know that there's more to each other than meets the eye"

I so badly wanted to reach out to him, to run my fingers through his salty hair. But my pride held me back and Henry thankfully stood up.

"Be honest, there's a part of you that's thriving on all of this. Being amongst pirates and being at sea away from civilization and prying eyes. And being more than a pretty face in a perfect little world" his voice turned dark with desire as I stared up at him, not quite sure what to say.

"So you admit you think I'm pretty"

"and you don't deny anything else"

We both held our gazes strong and anyone could feel the tension that surrounded us.

"You see, I can be quite perspective - for an animal" He chuckled lowly and I still remained silent.

"Well princess, I bid you goodnight. I'm going to be turning in soon."

Henry turned to leave and I suddenly found my voice.

"Can you leave a candle burning?" Henry smiled and simply nodded, pulling a match from his pocket and sticking it to create a flame that lit the room much more.

"I'm sorry for leaving you in the dark, princess." he smiled softly.

"And maybe a blanket?" Henry's eyes flooded with guilt as he finally noticed the way I clung onto myself for any warmth.

"You've - you've been cold?" I watched as his gaze turned to his men who stood outside the door and their faces turned white with fear.

"My sincere apologies, Princess. My men should have been on that and I promise you the right consequences will be taken"

I laughed quietly as I watched the men scramble to find a blanket and within seconds one was being handed to me.

"Now for God's sake we are not your servants, no more requests".

I wrapped the scratchy blanket around my body but I couldn't care less because the warmth was all I needed.

"Good night, princess"

"Good night, captain"

Tbc

(tags will be added in reblog)

#Henry Cavill #henry cavill fanfic #keanu reeves #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill one shot

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abeingfromnothingness · 3 years

Text

Anthropocene

(This is a short story to help with visualizing -this- idea don't take it way too seriously. You can make your own version of the idea if you want.)

Shoutout to @marlynnofmany "accidentaly human" series for inspiring this idea

@niqhtlord01 @dycefic @starr-fall-knight-rise for their great stories which are used as inspiration

@whereartthoubromeo this is for you

And the humans are weird community here

_________________________________________

Humans, when you hear that word what do you usualy think it describes?

More often than not it describes these hairless unasuming bipeds, they naturally have no magic abilities, traits or anything noteworthy except for being sexually compatible with all races but that all changed when a human named wudolf suon made a discovery that changed how we see these dissapointing apes.

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Wudolf was like every other human in his village normal and boring except for a select few with magical potential through familial ties. His parents were magicaly potent but he himself was not, he was enroled into the best academy there by scholarships his parents paid for using money acumulated during their adventuring days with a group who saved the world, this was to help him learn magic.

Most humans were often bullied for being weak and pathetic magic casters but wudolf got the most bulliying due to the fact he has little no magic potential, so during his freetime he experimented ways to forcefully give himself magical powers or disabling it from others.

One fatefull night during one of his experiments he got into an accident thankfully or should i say unfortunately he survived and gained magic powers like he wanted though ever since that day all magical creatures that stand near him always felt slightly uneasy, to the point no one makes any friends with him except human friends, they never felt what the rest of the students described, at the end of the day he didn't care as long as he can use magic now.

Whenever wudolf tries to cast a spell it never seems to work the first time then the next day he suddenly can do it perfectly though there was something a bit off about the aura, whenever he is questioned how he did it he always replied "i don't know it just... gave itself to me i guess".

Over the course of the semester his power kept growing, the range where magical creatures felt uneasy also increases, every magic fight he entered always resulted in him winning every single time with little to no harm done to him with most magical beings attending feeling unwell and a few humans having a faint headache.

The principal suspected something strange was happening but didn't care because of wudolf helping the academy acumulate many tournament trophies, one day the principal got an anonymous tip about wudolf practicing forbiden magic with a picture of wudolf reading a mysterious book, it is suspected that the ones who sent the anonymous tip were jealous students but whoever that sent it just opened pandora's box.

Wudolf and his parents were called into the principals office one day to discuss about his dabling with the forbiden arts, of course wudolf is innocent but any mention about the dabling in forbiden arts are treated with zero tolerance.

Wudolf tries and pleads innocence but the principal doesn't bellive him after the many months of accumulated reports from many students feeling uneasy around him and only him though no human students ever complained which proves he wasn't using forbiden arts, but was ruled out for the reason that "humans have difficulty with magic" so he was kicked out and ran away into the wilderness never to be seen again.

A month has passed when suddenly a figure wearing a carved out dragon head and a cloak made of dragon skin attacked the village, a group of heroes consisting of a human mage, an elf archer, an orc barbarian, and a dragonborn paladin confronts the figure in front of them standing amongst rubble of a ruined square.

"Ah, i assume you are one of this vilage's groups of heroes am i correct?" The figure speaks though slightly muffled and distorted by the head they are wearing.

"That is correct and you should leave or else we'll strike you down even killing you if we have to." The dragonborn exclaims

"Well i should say the same way to beings such as yourselves, except you human" the figure points at the suprised mage

"What do you want from me?" The human exclaimed.

"It's pretty obvious, You and other humans"

the orc stands infront of the mage

"you no hurt little buddy!"

The figure laughs "hurt? Oh no no no, let's just say 'under my care' it's not like orcs such as you can show kindness, the only thing you know is being a big brutish pushover who values an ally by stength so let me place us at an even footing" with a snap of a finger the orc suddenly collapses on to their back

"Gear. Too. Heavy."

"What did you do!?" The paladin shouted getting the attention of the figure "i already told you what i did, i placed us in an even footing, i made them 'human' so to speak"

the group turns to the orc waiting for some sort of transformation to happen but nothing happened.

"I don't know what you did but i will shoot you down from your mountain!" The elf taunts preparing a shot

"Granny, stop being mad, else you'll wither away faster, here let me help you take a well deserved break from this adventuring buisness." With another snap the elf expected to suddenly feel heavier which is why they aimed higher than usual, what waited for them was something else other than an increase in weight.

Their hair starts to grey, their vision starts to blur, their limbs slowly feel weak, the arrow that was fired was deflected effortlessly by the sturdy dragon scales of the figure's cloak.

"Your gravity and aging magic won't work on me, prepare to be brought justice." The dragonborn paladin exclaimed triumphantly

"Justice? Ha, after your kind's scally egotistical reign on many other regions especialy what one of you kept on doing to me and my friends during my student years, i'd beg to differ. let me serve you your just deserts master." The paladin prepares a breath attack but with a snap the dragonborn suddenly falls on their knee puking with their scales turning pale.

The figure looms menacingly "how the mighty have fallen. You know, your reaction reminded me of a dragon that i encountered, you all are wondering why suddenly there seems to be little to no dragon sightings?" What the figure says is true, for whatever reason no dragons have shown up for the past few weeks eventhough this area is known for many dragons in hiding, this never happened until a certain scholar was expeled and was never seen again.

"Let's just say i returned a long overdue debt. Of course i am not an idiot so i cut some loose ends one being a problem now and four more in the future, how did you think i got this attire, and survived?"

"You...monster" the dragonborn replies through their nausea

"A monster huh? how ironic especialy coming from a cousin of the species that did so without care to us lesser species." "Fireball!" The mage casts a spell which quickly dissipates instantly a feet away from the figure, the remaining heat catches the figure's attention "pathetic, now, time to deal with you my buddy ol'pal marcus." Marcus taken aback "w-wudolf!?"

Wudolf raises the ex-hatchling's maw revealing a familiar face with a very noticable change. "Hello marcus, it has been a while huh?"

Marcus draws in magic to prepare a spell "Look, whatever malicious god or being that is passively controling you, i will save you even if it results in any of our deaths."

Wudolf laughs "a malicious entity is that your conclusion of what happened to me?" Marcus nods in confirmation. "Well i can't blame you due to it being a common occurence to people like me and the fact that i was expeled due to being accused of such things, but allow me to show you OUR power." Marcus tries to cast a spell but nothing happened and he was then hit by a powerful force sending him flying into a wall, marcus tries again...nothing happened and he was hit by a blast sending him to the ground, he is starting to have a headaches. Wudolf prepares a large spear made off whatever magic he is using and throws it. Frusturated marcus tries and block it, and succedes creating a shield with the same magic wudolf is using, he falls down fatigued. "What was that i just did!?" Marcus stared at his hand in awe of what he has done, so does his teamates.

Wudolf stands there satisfied "i already told you, it is OUR power. Let me ask you a question." Wudolf summons ropes to bind each hero down. "Have you wondered what makes an art forbiden?"

Marcus was about to answer. "Don't worry i know what you'll answer and yes with the same reason of it being a common occurence but maybe, it is to stop instances of overpowering." "What do you mean by that?"

Wudolf smiles a little and starts walking around "well remember that day when i got into an accident?" Marcus nods remembering that day clearly. "when i recovered, i suddenly have the abillity to cast magic which was slowly growing more powerful with a side effect at the time i brushed of as miniscule. I then became our academy's champion winning several magic tournanent throphies which are null and void by now considering what happened last month. Did you ever notice how weird that after my 5th win in a row i was suddenly accused of practicing the forbiden arts which was treated with instant expultion?" Marcus pipes up "well yeah and we even found the sender of the annonymous tip who was a half-dragon that was jealous of you and used your weird unsetling aura as proof of forbiden magic possesion. So yeah i feel really sorry for you." "I can understand that too. Anyway, during my time out there i practiced my new found magic to find out what element it is and maybe who it was bestowed to me. Well the answer is very suprising, it's nothing and it is in fact OUR own natural magic."

Marcus wide eyed in shock "you are telling me that we were supposed to have our own magic abilities and what do you mean by it's nothing? It's magic, it's got to be something." Wudolf turns sharply to face Marcus "That's the thing, our magic comes from absolute nothing though now it's more of a something that is revealed within the absence of natural magic. With this knowledge i posses and now you too, i will bring our kind the justice we all deserve after many years living under fear of these creatures. I will create a world where they can never hurt us, one way or another, a libberation of you will."

Marcus finally has the strength to stand up "dude, i know your intention and it is a good one, but there's got to be a better way than a mass genocide, we can still live with each other side by side and yes we may be feared of but still, it is way better than extermination. You probably know this, so have a little bit of humani-" a large spike of energy pierces marcus' stomach sending him to a critical condition, this is followed by ropes of energy binding him. "You still don't get it do you. Maybe i need a larger example and suprisingly, (Wudolf creates an extra dimensional portal and pulls out a modified trumpet bearing a flag of a kingdom.) I do." He blows into it and a large portal appears that leads to the front of a kingdom "my own design if you are wondering." standing behind them is a king with an army of people from various ages standing behind them, far off behind them there seems to be a walled of kingdom with the wall having visible signs of damage as well as a huge area that was lost. From the wide and deep claw marks covering the wall to the massive bloodstain it is safe to assume that a massive creature had attacked not too long ago. Wudolf aproaches the king "ah mister wudolf let me guess, your friend?" The king says to him in a casual manner. "Yes though now more of an obstacle. Really hoped for them to join our cause." The king chuckles "happens to most of us. Well then, it is time for us to do a full sweep to recruit soldiers and exterminate these pests. It's funny how one day we were the most pathetic race to ever existed and then the next, eldritch monsters capable of crippling massive beasts with a glare." They both laugh at the thought while men and women storm the village.

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This was several years ago and since that time we started the rebelion, many creatures against these humans now called as (homo sapinihilis) courtesy of our (homo sapien) friends.

We also discovered these mushrooms that create a zone of replenishing mana which allows us access to magic while engaging those things.

We have reports of from our scouts that the "nihilistums" are developing a bomb to wipe everyone from existance.

Now it is your job to stop them, don't worry we have an adventuring group ready for you

#humans are weird #humans are weird + fantasyland #fantasy

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 3 years

Text

It’s The Avengers (03x13)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 13: That One Stranger

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: eep sorry

Word Count: last weekend was a blast!! My cousins, my brother’s best friend, all of us gathered and karaoked while drunk. Bro’s bestie even brought dad in for a song and two and broke a few glasses coz he was THAT drunk. Poor dude even apologised for that.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

The camera was coloured in darkness when it heard a troubled and tired whine. It took a second or two to come out of someone's backpack- quite possibly Javier's- to record you nearly lying over a rhino-like alien with a dinosaur-like tail. Your eyes looked sad and frustrated, your limbs tired- hanging on either side of the slow creature carrying on its own pace. A scarf was thrown over your head that ended up covering your face, making the camera shift towards the tall figure of Loki walking beside the new transportation service. His figure- with the usual black jeans and equally black shirt- was covered in a cloak that protected him from the harsh rays of the neighbouring star. "They're gone. Stop whining," he ordered without even looking at you. "The only breathing insane person you need is me."

Lulu, who was sitting over your back now, was enjoying the languid bumpy ride through the desert that was filled with little crowds around the oasis -found around every two kilometres- while his camera recorded Javier sitting on his rhino facing you guys. You pulled the scarf away from your face and pouted, letting your face rest in your palms. "But they are all so cute." A blink later you turned your eyes towards Loki and smirked. "OoooOoooh!-" you deepened your voice- "'The only breathing insane person you need is me'-" and then squirmed out loud- "you naughty-naughty. You teasing me. You naughty-naughty!" Loki turned to face you, his steps so in sync that he was right next to your face the whole time his eyes kept yours captured. "What exactly is it that made my words tease you, darling?" All the playful giggle vanished as soon as it had come. You felt your body straighten at that smirk running wild over his lips while Javier's camera caught the change in the shade of your face.

You: *annoyed* You have to be really careful how you go about joking around with Loki 'cause that son of a bitch can turn anything into something sexual. *looks at the camera* *feels a shiver go down your body*

Loki: It is *stresses* so easy to make Y/N uncomfortable. All I have to do is make her think I am thinking something impermissible and then sit back to watch her fumble. *chuckles* It's one of my many talents. *feels a confidence boost*

"You are so annoying sometimes," you muttered under your breath while scratching an itch on the back of your neck. "Sometimes I forget you get a high out of making people miserable." "Oh, no. The high is solely out of annoying you," Loki pointed out innocently. Grabbing one end of the scarf, you flipped it in the air to smack Loki's back with it. "You do not deserve any of the lava cakes I make in the future!" "Thank the Norns. They kept giving me the worst pains." "You sonova-" Another flick of your scarf was easily caught by the God to pull you towards him. You nearly fell on his chest if not for your hands landing on those pecs first.

You: *mouth opened in an 'o'* *blinks slowly* I think I grabbed his boobies. *purses lips* *thinks for a long moment* *camera pans in* *raises brows* those are some really hard boobies.

"What." Even when you were sitting on the rhino- who came to a standstill on its own at the moment, clearly sensing some heat in the moment- Loki did not have to bend his beck even a smidge to stare right into your soul. "What," you spat back a bit hesitantly, trying your best to fume, taking your hands away from his body to hide them somewhere before they were executed for their crimes. "You are being quite bold these days," he commented while wrapping the scarf around his hand, never letting his gaze falter. "I was always bold-" you shrugged- "especially when it came to anything that had to do with you." Loki chuckled. And licked his lips. The camera caught the one strong inhale you took in. "What did you expect would happen in the long run? That I would go all soft and mushy on you like those fangirls you have on earth? Stand outside your home and shout-" "Loki?" The voice wasn't yours. You could never carry that kind of sultry weight in your throat even if you wanted to. It felt like it had come with the wind. Or maybe an echo? It wasn't until you looked at Javier's camera that you looked behind you and found a woman dressed in red standing within inches of you, giving you a mini heart attack, leading to one great fall. Loki could have broken your fall if he wanted to but from the look in his eyes, he was stuck on the woman he was seeing standing a few feet away from him. Lulu's camera caught this woman perfectly. From every angle, she looked human. Her pale skin was akin to a glass moulded in the shape of a Goddess. Her thin lips were coloured a shade of purple. Her eyes a shade of blue that was darker than usual. They were less of an ocean and more of a pool hidden in the caverns that were bottomless and unexplorable. A red cloak covered her head- except for a few strands of silver hair- and the rest of her body. It was not hard to miss for the cameras recording a couple of things that happened in a little span of time; like the slipping of your scarf from Loki's hands, the rhinos excusing themselves from the scene, the nervous fluffing up of Lulu at the sight of this stranger, the sudden chill in the air in the middle of the desert making the animals- and you- shiver. On top of that, the piercing rays of the nearest star seemed to get dull by the second till the camera realised there were clouds gathering above them out of bloody nowhere.

"Is that really you? Loki...son of Odin...and son of Laufey?" "It's Freya," you whispered, internally correcting this stranger who was visibly making you quite uncomfortable. "It has been a while." She completely ignored you if she heard that. Her smile seemed to stretch from one ear to another at the sight of the God- who was evidently the only thing she wanted to see. "Aellae." It was not the name itself that produced the moment but the way it came out to make you turn towards Loki.

You: *frown at the void* It was almost like he was recalling something he had...lost. Like that one book that you repeatedly read and then it just disappeared one day only for you to find out that you had yourself kept it in an ultimate secret place that you yourself forgot about. So, when you find it you feel guilty for facing it again. *breathless* *camera pans in* *looks at Javier* does this make sense? *blinks at Javier who is signing something* *frowns harder* What do you mean why it's gotten me all worked up? I mean *stutters and points in the distance* *camera pans in Loki and Aellae standing in the distance looking at each other and not really talking much* W-who knows what's the history there. Like is she a friend or foe? Or a fr-o. *camera pans back on your face* *tsks* of course, this doesn't make sense. None of this does. *looks at the pair and crosses her arms* *fumes at no one in particular*

"I thought I-" "Lost me?" Aellae simply smiled. "You should know better than that. After all, it is me, my love." There was no hesitation in the movement of your eyes when you looked at Loki for an answer to that statement. If it wasn't for the brilliant observation of this talented boy named Javier, one would not have caught the slight movement of his eyes when he wanted to glance at you from his peripheral vision while taking in a lungful. "My love," you stressed that last word to make sure Loki understood the question scratching beneath the sarcasm. There was a slight roll of his eyes followed by him completely closing them for one elongated moment. "I have been waiting for this day," Aellae continued, making a part of you itch for completely ignoring your presence, "when I finally found you again." The tilt of her head and that hollow gaze that tried to be soft gave her an eerie touch. "And to think I was only living on your memories till now." Aellae took a step forward and stopped when she found the God taking the lead with this one. In this situation, the angle mattered a lot. Because from where Lulu stood- right on your shoulder- it looked as if this stranger had taken a step where could she step right where the distance between her and you two was the same. From where Javier stood, his camera saw Loki step towards Aellae while completely blocking you from the boy's view. But what he did record was Loki bringing forward his hands for her. That hollowness in her eyes suddenly swirled into an ounce of mild ecstasy. when she put her hands in his and felt his thumbs rest on top of the back of her palms. "It has been one long while," he concluded, forcing Javier to walk- with quite the struggle- in the sand to pan in on this confusion fused with this piercing hint of disappointment on your face.

"I'm sorry," you sputtered, "come again?" "Title of your sex tape," he muttered under his breath. "Hm?" Aellae turned in question. "Nothing, my dearest," the God assured her before turning to answer your question. "I said you are on your own now. Look for a cavern at one of the oasis and they will drop you at a shelter. Hopefully." Your head did feel the just of surprise even though the last twenty seconds of their hand-holding had you all ready for a surprise. Words were being a stubborn bitch in your lungs- never escaping your mouth right this moment and all your could do was exhale and mock a burst of laughter at those words. "And then? And then what?" Your heated brain really could not think of anything else. Loki shrugged.

You: *shouting* THAT SON OF A BITCH SHRUGGED!!! *pointing at yourself* AT ME!!!

"I don't know. Look for a rainbow." Without another word, he turned back towards the woman. Just like that. The only sound was that of the wind running through the desert as you, Javier and Lulu watched Loki walk away with this strange creature. It took a minute for the little one figure out, for when he did, he pressed his stomach and stood up on your shoulder, his heart beating faster than it usually did. And when the realisation dawned on him, Lulu jumped to the ground to take a few steps in Loki's direction and yell for him to come back.

'Member the way You used to say I was your meaning? You'd always need me

You just stood there, dried lips parted, eyes shrinking under the gaze of the star, arms dangling with nearly no life in them. For a second there, Javier felt you were about to fall, for Lulu's camera caught the boy come to your side, ready for anything that was bound to happen.

Did you forget What that shit meant? You were my answer You were what mattered

But all you did was stand there with disappearing emotions just like those two disappeared with the last sand dune in front of you. With the last silhouette of Loki gone in sand, you closed your eyes, worrying your companions for that stretched moment.

Lived at your place Know the way that I taste Yeah, you know things Yeah, you know things

"He knows," you whispered to yourself, your brows furrowing together, your fingers curling into fists.

I met your mom Even got us a dog That ain't nothing, oh

A piercing scream came out of your lungs making the little floof jump five feet into the air to land away from you while Javier's camera recorded his three-second jolts before falling straight down from his hands.

Say you know me Say you know me Say you know me, know Say you know me Say you know me Say you know me

"HE FUCKING KNOWS!!!!" Your voice was at the edge of a massive breakdown, shaking while your eyes blurred themselves in this uncontrollable rage.

You always will

"That son of a bitch knows how bad it is for me alone in a strange land," you croaked, trying to kick some sand with your boots. Javier signed something from outside the frame to you. "Hey, you're not alone. I'm here too," Lulu's camera caught his words. You looked at him for five seconds. "You lost your socks while sleeping on your first day. You were wearing those bloody socks." Javier- clearly offended but also guilty- mocked a gasp as he took a few steps away from you. The soft strings of guitar added to the air around you looking in the distance where nothing could be seen now. No one. Sand for infinity and a few oases that did not lead to him.

Feet were dragged through the stubborn sand that let won't you walk straight. All the effort that was going into being angry was now running down towards your legs. But that did not stop you from fuming so hard that the camera could catch the difference in your features.

See, I know What it is, what it is, what it is, babe

But as the camera panned over your face, it seemed more of a sullen sulk and less of that rage you had just shown.

See, I know What it is, what it is

And were those tears in your eyes that you were trying to blink away? That you were trying to hide from Javier as much as possible?

Let me miss What it is, what it is, what it isn't Let me miss it Let me miss it

Giving up, you walked towards the first oasis in your way, populated generously by desert animals and a few nomads. The tents seemed somewhat similar to those you found on earth except for the spherical air pockets surrounding them to keep them cool. One of the nomads was kind enough to open the doorway for you and bow down in their own way, making the rainbow stone in his necklace reflect the starlight right into your eyes as you entered the place. "Did some order a seven-spice rainbow with a generous dash of sexy on the side?" The light that has just left your eyes came back with a sweet gasp. "My White Knight!" you nearly choked on your own joy. .

The camera felt itself shake when the rainbow drink was kept on the table. Thanking White, you dragged the sparkly fizzy thing towards you to get a taste. "So-" White furrowed his brows licked his lips in a thought- "you're saying Loki did leave you but he did not leave you." You just nodded, your lips not ready to leave the straw. "Easy," White ordered with a serious face, receiving a pinch from Green and Orange sitting next to him without looking away from you. Both of them seemed to be caught in a sweet trance that was clearly you. And when you finally did leave the straw, the elated sigh of a content throat made both of them close their eyes and smile. "Oh, God! This is so goooood," you exclaimed as no voice came out of you. "Y/N," your White Knight called out to you, "focus." You set the drink down and straighten yourself. "Yes, sir," you whispered. "Not that much of focus," he muttered while clearing his throat, adjusting himself where he sat. Violet rolled his eyes and sighed. "What do you mean when you say he did not leave you?" You looked at Violet and put your hands on the table. "I mean that I don't think he went with that woman....goddess...witch...whatever...on his own. I think he was kinda kidnapped." All the boys- except Orange- shared a look with each other. Orange was just too engrossed in you at this point. "Are you sure he just didn't go on his own?" Green stressed. "He would be one dumb bitch to leave me alone like that," you nearly shouted before going for that unicorn juice again. "There must've been a reason." Orange nodded vigorously in agreement. "Very dumb bitch," he tsked. "Because he knows I will kill him if he did-" you sipped the cold fizz- "and if I didn't, our family definitely will." The camera panned in the emotion of slight disbelief White felt as his eyes remained hollow while that smile was still stuck on his face. It took him a few seconds to bring himself to mutter, "our...family," and scratch an itch on his neck. "So," you burped and excused yourself, "before anyone from my home flies here just to kill him, I am going to rescue him." "Whaaa-at?" Sky mutters from behind the bar counter. "Help you go after some strange and powerful witch that we have absolutely no idea about?" Javier's camera- which Javier had in his hand as he stood right behind Sky- recorded the endless stash of weapons and potions kept behind the bar right there within Sky's reach. The camera especially zoomed in on the one bundle of spears marked 'Witch skewers: Do not wash, Do not touch. Poisonous'. "And that too on such a short notice?" Sky faked a laugh.

Sky: *tired* Of course we know Loki's been kidnapped. White: *casually* Of course, we'll help Y/N. Violet: *stone face* I'm down to hunt some bad girls any day. White: *sighs* I really wish we could leave him with his kidnapper though. *pause* *everyone mumbles in agreement* *silence resumes around the table* Orange: *thinking while looking at the void* but that would make Y/N sad. *nods and pouts around the table* Red: Once we rescue him, let's kidnap Y/N. *hums of agreement around the table*

"Okay-" you place the empty glass on the table and get up to look around the table before looking into Javier's camera, "let's go save a God today."

#loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki fanfic #loki series #loki imagine #loki fluff #loki smut #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #marvel fluff #loki #It's The Avengers #fluff #smut #fanfic #fanfiction

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yan-twst · 4 years

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hey there! i love your work! can i request the dorm leaders + their darling dying? particularly if it was due to an accident, the dorm leader’s own actions/punishments, or even (if you’re comfortable writing about the topic) by their own hand? thank you! 💞 i hope you’re doing well ~

warnings: this is just dark like very dark and messed up! mentions of death, violence, abuse, blood, self harm- like, everything like that is here. on top of that general yandere warnings. this one is heavy on violence and abuse so please be careful when reading if this could affect you! (-｡-;) also lots of mentions of stuff that could be potentially triggering to people with eating disorders!

riddle rosehearts

he didn't mean to. that's all he can think of as he watches his darling lay on the floor of his room, blood slowly pooling under them. he's shaking and hyperventilating- no he didn't mean to he didn't mean to hedidn'tmeantohedidn'tmeanto-

he feels like throwing up as he backs away. it was over so quickly- he just didn't mean to get so angry, but he did, and all it took was one swing of his staff against his darling's head and a sickening crack and now they're- they're-

he forces himself to search for a pulse, but his hands are shaking too hard. his darling can't die, this can't be real; he wouldn't ever hurt them badly...! but their body is slowly growing cold under his hands, and he's feeling sicker and sicker by the second

he wishes he could just die in their place- what did he do? when trey finds him sobbing over his darling's body, the third year assumes that riddle's darling collapsed and hit their head; riddle is too shaken to deny this. everyone in heartslabyul believed that his relationship was perfect, nobody would suspect he'd been the one to deliver the final blow: and it makes him sick

he stops eating, stops attending classes, and lets himself slowly waste away in his bed. it's bad enough that crowley considers sending him home, but trey quickly objects: the last thing riddle needs is his mother's treatment... everyone tries to help him cope, help him move on, but he just doesn't get better. he doesn't want to get better, not when the guilt is eating him alive.

he feels like his darling is watching him, even after their death. it's like a punch in the gut, thinking of all he did: he was a kidnapper and a manipulator and an abuser and he killed them, he killed his lover who he kept by his side by force- the thoughts make him even sicker. he's slowly wasting away, refusing food and water...

the only way to save him at this point would be a spell to make him forget his darling ever existed... and his friends are so desperate to at least save him- thinking that he's just a mourning lover who lost his beloved too quickly- that it's not too unreasonable to expect them to do so.

leona kingscholar

those close to him knew he didn't mind getting a bit... rough, with his beloved. whether it was the servants back at home, or ruggie who didn't want to get on leona's bad side, nobody interfered: after all, they always claimed they were fine and happy with leona! ... though most of the times leona was keeping a tight grip on theis shoulder as they spoke those words

it's nobody's shock when a mysterious deep scratch becomes seriously infected on them. both leona and his darling deny that he was the one who caused it- but... well, it's clear to those who knew of how violent leona could be when unhappy with his darling that he was the only possible culprit.

the fact leona has terrified his darling into complete submission and obedience now shows its deadly side, as it turns out they'd been hiding the highly infected scratch from him in fear of repercussions, and when medics have a look at it, his darling is at death's door. he barely has time to process what's happening, before his feverish darling just... passes away in their sleep, with no chance to even call a magic healer who could have helped

nobody has seek leona in worse shape before. he doesn't even attend the funeral, and he doesn't let anyone (not even ruggie) get near him- he appears like a feral beast, destroying anyone and anything that crosses his path. his mourning is destructive, and it doesn't take long for him to be called back home before he turns the whole savanaclaw dorm to sand

he's inconsolable, and he doesn't let anyone near. he knew very well that what he was doing to his darling- keeping them under his control by taking advantage of their fear, forcing them to play the part of the "happy lover" despite them being terrified of him- was wrong, but in the end, he loved them more than anything.

and in their own way, he knew they loved him: even when they had the chance, they never begged his brother or crowley for help... almost as if they believed he could change for the better. but he didn't, he essentially killed them.

he'll just isolate himself. go somewhere far away where he can misserably live the rest of his days alone. all he does is sleep and mourn, hunting to feel relief from his pain in the form of violence- but even then... he's just never coming back from this

azul ashengrotto

he just wanted to teach them a lesson. once again his darling had tried to escape him, to escape his love, even though they'd sworn to stay with him- even though they'd signed a contract promising to stay- so he'd punished them accordingly. after a painful, near-drowning dip in the freezing cold ocean, he'd just left them in the bathroom to cry and beg for mercy... but when he came back less than a day later, they were just... dead on the ground

hypothermia. his darling's blue fingers, their huddled up form as they tried to preserve heat in their last moments: he feels himself grow lightheaded and tears blur his vision as he picks up their cold, lifeless corpse. how...? it's too late when he notices the place where he left them: there's no towels, no hot water, and the temperature is cold. the fact his darling was just violently dragged around the freezing cold waters before- the fact they were already weak from being kept in captivity...

the twins arrive immediately when they hear azul's screams and wails coming from the bath. there's not even a chance to ask what happened: he's crying, sobbing as he apologises to his darling's cold, damp corpse. the eels quickly realize what's happening- and though upset, jade immediately volunteers to hide the corpse. they have to, or else they're all in serious trouble. floyd has to pretty much tear the corpse out of azul's grip.

azul feels like shit, he wishes he'd died in their place- but he doesn't want to be imprisoned. he didn't mean to- how could he ever want the person most important for him to die?! the general student body interprets his mourning and guilt as the reaction to his darling "mysteriously going mising"- each time someone tells him they hope that his beloved is found soon, he wishes he could just die on the spot

he doesn't have a will to take care of himself or the lounge anymore- all his duties fall onto Jade. watch what he eats? who cares- not him. he swings from eating whatever he wants to try and fill the void in his heart to going days on end without even leaving his bed- it's unhealthy and it's worrying, but... what can he do? he killed his darling, left them to die alone- he deserves nothing.

kalim al-asim

it's everything he feared, happening at once. just one time- one time- he takes his darling out to eat because they've been behaving so well and it's their anniversary- and they look so happy to be out of their chains and out of their room! and then- and then they take a bite of their food and it's nearly inmediate, they collapse and cough, and then it's over.

he should've known better. he HAD to know better. hadn't he been telling his darling the reason why they had to stay locked inside was for their safety? hadn't he promised he wouldn't allow them to be harmed? this- this had happened before with jamil, but jamil had lived. his darling died.

his guilt and pain are immeasurable. he cries during the funeral, loud enough that even his own family feels like they can't approach him. even jamil can't help but feel bad- even knowing all what kalim did to his darling. it's like the spark inside of him was extinguished, all his joy snuffed out

he commissions paintings and works of art of his late darling to an almost terrifying degree. he needs to keep them around, to keep something that makes him feel like they aren't gone, but everytime he gazes at the expensive oil paintings of his darling, he's crushed by pain and becomes as inconsolable as the day they died

there's no more parties. how could he possibly throw a party- no, how could he possibly dare search for happiness knowing what happened? he feels like he doesn't deserve comfort or joy. he turns down all of his friends and family's attempts to help. he feels like hurting and being misserable is the only way to make it up to his darling, even in death

he'll pretend to move on, for everyone's sake- it's painfully obvious he's faking his happiness, but... nobody knows what to do to help, so they just accept his poor acting. nobody brings up how he sleeps cuddled with golden chains (that only jamil knows were the ones used to keep his darling in their room), or how he keeps all his darling's belongings untouched like if they could return any day- in the same way nobody, not even jamil, acts like they notice the scars that appear on his skin, which was once unmarked.

vil schoenheit

he knew that using so much love potion had to have... some negative side effect. however, he saw it as a necessary side effect; his darling was just lost and needed a bit of help to love him! besides, he himself brewed the potion with the highest quality ingredients, and sure it was worrying that his darling was becoming resistant and needed larger and larger doses each time, but he never expected them to just... drop dead when he gave them their morning's dose of potion.

love potion overdose- now that was a way to die that didn't appear in any textbook. vil wouldn't be able to process the events: his darling just fainted, right? how silly! he'll just- he'll just tuck them into bed, they need beauty sleep, and he'll... and then he'll...

when he finally feels his darling's cold body, with no heartbeat as he places a hand on their chest, it feels like the world is falling around him. how was he supposed to know this could happen?! he tries as many healing and health potions as he can, but... in the end, he specializes in poisons, and his darling is already dead. it's merely a fool's errand

he cries. he crie and cries- how dare his darling die?! how dare they abandon him?! he wails until his eyes are red and puffy, until his makeup is ruined. he doesn't know what to do; he doesn't want anyone to see his darling like this. soon enough death will take its toll on their beauty- the thought makes him feel even worse.

just like how the dwarves in the ancient legend preserved the princes's body in a clear casket to admire her beauty even after death, vil will do exactly that. finding a spell to preserve his darling's body is exhausting, and he risks his own skin by losing sleep and stressing over it (he's running against the clock and he knows it. he has to hurry, before his darling's beauty fades), but he's successful

he keeps his darling- a corpse that won't decompose, their body cold but skin as soft as when they lived- in a glass casket in his room. everyday, he carefully does their makeup and dresses them up, still making them go through his skincare routine even after death. in all honesty, the routine is what manages to keep him from losing his mind; he doesn't see how misserable he is, desperately taking care of a corpse.

he has to work harder on his makeup now. no matter how much he tries, he can barely sleep: he tries so hard to push back the thoughts that plague his mind (the thoughts that tell him if he'd been a better lover his darling would be alive, that if he'd been better his darling would have loved him without the need of a potion, that he was the one harming them from the very start whenever he knowingly destroyed their self esteem so he could manipulate them with more ease)- everyone bites back comments in fear of invoking his anger, but... it's visible, how much he's suffering.

idia shroud

is this the gods' punnishment for his actions? does he just deserve nothing in life? he holds his darling's lifeless corpse in his hands and wails. he doesn't even know how they died- was it just too much? the isolation, the stress... he thought he was doing a good job at caring for them, but clearly he wasn't, was he?

he'll rebuild them- he'll bring them back. he doesn't care how unethical it is- he has to get his darling back. what were all his efforts up until now for? stalking, kidnapping his darling; was he truly about to throw away all that work? he wasn't- not at all

he tries his best to keep ortho in the darl about the truth. no, no- his darling is just... taking a nap. yes, a special nap, suspended in a mysterious blue fluid in a large tube in idia's room- just... a nap... of course the younger shroud doesn't believe this, but even the child can see the pain in idia's eyes and doesn't question further

it's because of ortho's concerns that idia doesn't spiral into absolute missery: otherwise, he doesn't even know if he'd have the will to keep living without his darling. the younger one cheers him on, telling him that he'll absolutely succeed! ... even if idia has low hopes on actually managing to artificially revive his darling, his brother's words keep him going

he takes to talking to his darling's corpse, suspended and preserved in the tube. he'll save them soon. he'll make it so they can walk around his room again- he even promises to let them go out if he just manages to finish the work- he just has to work harder. he needs to work more.

he has no clue how long it'll take him, or if he'll even succeed. but he has to keep going. there's only two things keeping him alive- ortho, and the need to hold his darling again. he needs them. he has to get them back.

malleus draconia

there's always a level of risk when applying a sleeping curse, of course. he knows this very well, but he trusts his magic. he knows he's good at what he does; so why has his darling's heart stopped beating...?

he'd grown so used to simply casting the spell when he went to class and undoing it when he returned, he almost missed the change and left for class. but he did notice- when he cast the spell, instead of falling into a peaceful sleep... his darling seemeed to jerk awake for a second, then close their eyes: and after that, he couldn't see the rise and fall of their chest. a nervous hand pressed against their chest, and found no heartbeat

he's lost and scared. suddenly, he doesn't feel like Malleus Draconia, ruler of the dark fae- suddenly he feels like he's a little baby again, crying because he's scared of thunder. all he can do is fall back in shock and call for lilia- please. please come help him. he made a mistake.

lilia can comprehend very well what happened. the sleeping spell failed- perhaps malleus' darling was too frail, their constitution worsened by the constant sleep and captivity. there's nothing the ancient fae can do: once death has taken a human, they're gone. all he can do is hug malleus, to try and comfort him like he used to when the dark fae was a child.

malleus knew that humans had short lifespans. lilia had warned him about this, about the pain human lovers would bring; that was one of the reasons why he'd brought his darling to his dorm and forbidden them from leaving, so he could do the most with the time they had. and yet- even for a human, this was too soon. far too soon. how could life be so cruel? how could he lose the one person who understood him and loved him? perhaps everyone was right to steer away from him. perhaps he did just bring misfortune wherever he went

lilia, silver, and sebek can only watch as malleus becomes lonelier than ever. the dark fae has rarely mourned before- and even though lilia is trying his best to guide the young lord through the process of grieving, malleus is just not taking it well at all. he killed his beloved- as much as his dormmates try to convince him it was a freak accident, that he had no hand in it, he knows better. perhaps what hurts him the most is his darling's peaceful face after they passed- they never held such an expression around him, not since he took them captive... were they so happy to have escaped him, even if it meant death?

#twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia

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chaneajoyyy · 3 years

Note

Do you know any images that has plus size characters and Erik in them that I can read? I’m kind of new to the whole fan fics!

I sure do!

PLUS SIZE CHARACTERS WITH ERIK FICS (UPDATED)

- how i feel, right now, animal, chains series, purple herbs & gardens, risks & new beginnings series, better with time, let’s play, without a doubt, sizzling pans & slow jams, misinterpretations, visions of gold, out business, come through and chill series, nights, slow burn, a siren’s allure, venom, the one, maybe they’re right, sore loser series, i’ll be alright, spooky cookies & vampire fangs, screams in the night series; knock, knock series; imagination, the cure series, poptart man series, this must be our song, conversation starter, heaven is a place on earth, twins?, say it, i’m there, his princess, his for the night, sugar baby series, authority series, baby shark, lemme try, take our time, say the word, sudden reunions series, memories of you, more ways than one, lemme try it again (that’s my face), not in budget, i would like to see it, pease mama bear, she likes me, guess what, times like these, tell me your secret series, he gets it from me, baby see baby do, see what had happened was, who me?, so relax, three kings of dreams, deck the b-…halls?, do it again, be quiet, you so crazy, how that sound?, you’re so handsome, sit still, leave me aloneee, don’t hide, or maybe, send it to mommy, but i’m sick.., you thought i wouldn’t find out, he’d make you his, ballet baba, ain’t that right?, he wasn’t having that, being honest, that’s all it took?, then stop ignoring me, since you can, but i thougth…, jealous, i won’t tell you again series, hit me, no reply, i’ve alway been, you sure?, no more tummy time, toss ‘em, you done now?, sing it baby, doped up, battle it out, for however long, bath time, bedtime stories, i’m sorry, was that so hard?, i owe you that, whatchu say?, hard headed, it should’ve been you, take our time series, baba’s day, whatever she wants, nope, can’t even look at you, not again, nose wide oen, just a bit longer, come on over to my place, fences & bullriders, right now, designated command strips,mr. telephone man series, autumn leaves & cookie thieves, one way or another, you ain’t hear that?, open up, better?, huh? nuh uh, cute enough to eat, she likes me- @supersizemeplz

- all erik fics and headcanons- @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

- all erik fics and headcanons- @eye-raq

- teach me series, when you’re mad series, waffles series, slow ride series, movie night series, let’s talk about sex series, mines, thunderstorm, girl fuck you, eat your breakfast seres (with eat your dinner), secret admirer, amusement park fun, displays of affection, night at the movie theaters, silent hearbeats series, kissing strangers series, worship, loving the way you love it, day drunk, smile for me daddy series, just like you, we goin to hell, breeding time- @thehomierobbstark

- late again, halloween party, imprint, a man in love, v.i.p (includes m/baku), daddy’s home, y’all again?, okay? okay, prisoner of love, family cookout, kiss, what’s cooking good looking, expecting headcanons, food headcanons, crying headcanons, nsfw headcanons, foot fetish series, halloween headcanons, lingerie headcanons, jealous headcanons, kevin’s heart series, untitled series- @madamslayyy

-carnal stimulation series, next lifetime series, hoe ass erik series, dirty little secrets series, hennything is possible, sunday dinner series (with payback), a.d.i.d.a.s., green goddess, suddenly stevens, beauty is her name, it’s complicated. i’m sorry, the great reveal, neighbors know my name series (part 2 to @hearteyes-for-killmonger‘s story of the same name), the devil speaks xosha, mile high, trap card, act up, let me smell it, up late, i’ll take your man, carry on, dreams & nightmares- @goddessofthundathighs

- headass youtube couple series, fix my crown series (with ‘the puppy’), all skate, cutting ties series, #tsrbaewatch- @apantherinmypastlife

- all erik fics- @wawakanda-btch

- all fics- @hearteyes-for-killmonger

- say my name series, beg for it, the coat room, charley horse, full court press, house party, boyfriend makeup challenge, gumby, the let out series, disorderly, token, all i wanted for christmas is you, hit the showers, neo, erica; veni, vidi, vici, i will be here, trick or treat, the wakandan boys when they’re sick (includes t’challa and m’baku- @sonofnjobu

- mine, unravel me series (includes belong to you), i missed you series (inlcudes you a’ight and if they ain’t looking), rated e, on braodway, no average bitch, @brownsugarcocoabutterwildflowers (scroll for erik killmonger x reader and erik killmonger imagine)

- all tasting mellow fics- @tastingmellow

- laid up series- @pastelastronomy24

- come lay with me, house hunting series, stretch marks, the footbal jerseyy, you sure?- @marvelmaree

- the deal series, nuggest of truth, girlfriend, all i want is you, care for you- @wakandamama

- rated e for extra petty, elbow deep series- @puffmamaa

- she got game, where’s the smoke, s.d.m., from paris with love, where the hoes at? (with t’challa and m’baku), written all over your face, baby bump series (wit cuddle buddy,, and hc: chubby!erik trying old clothes), not in that way, here kitty kitty, computer blue series, chunk series- @ghostfacekill-monger

- all erik fics- @stripper-patrick

- he spills series (with t’chala and m’baku)- @captainsaveasmut

- i’m cleva series, do me baby (part 2 of @killmongersgurl‘s serieserik’s created a monste)-, @killmongerdispussy

- sorry he’s gone, mad issues series, curiosity happy weight- @curls-and-crosses

- nah baby i got you- @inxan-ity (scroll for erik killmonger)

- all fics- @writerbee-ffs

- paragone series- @dynastynoire

- all fics- @eriksjournal

- the sweetest taste series, late night drive- two of a kind series (includes ‘03 bonnie and clyde prequel), beyond the lights series, mad love series- @wakandaforeverwrites

- all erik fics and headcanons- @plussizeappreciationfics

-thanksgiving w/ mr. stevens and the udakus series (with valentine’s gumbo), @mermaidchansons

- all erik fics- @muse-of-mbaku

- all fics- @eerythingisshaka

- all fics- @artisticestheticreads

- return the favor series,”you wake up to find your bed void of your sick boyfriend erik killmonger and you’re not very pleased- @taint3dvirgin

- a day at the beach with erik, prompt 19 “what’s cooking, good looking”, stay here tonight, greater purpose of chaos, sharing disney movies with erik, 90s disney movies with erik- @hidden-treasures21

- new year’s surprise series- @thefantasyride

- for the love of money?, my first & his only, the big chop, braid my hair, short staffed, visiting hours- @bakarilennox

- insecure series, “erik x wakandan!reader where he says ‘you are your own perso. you are not mine. but i hope you will let me love you.”, sabotage, sweet like honey series- @erikslulbaby

- kissing strangers series- @halcyonscry

- baby bump series (with cuddle buddy, hc:chubby!erik trying on old clothes) (chubby!erik), chunk series, special delivery, here kitty kitty, s.d.m., she got game, computer blue series, where’s the smoke, from paris with love, where the hoes at?, written all over your face, not in that way series- @ghostfacekill-monger

- not enough, a little insecure - @maybecoolwords

- french inhale series- @jewelofwakanda

***PLEASE HIT ME UP TO ADD STORIES***

#the bp plug #bp librarian at your service #let's chat #sip tea #talk fanfiction #erik killmonger x black!plussize!reader #erik killmonger x black!plussize!oc #erik killmonger fanfiction #black panther fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #anonny asks

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inkinary · 2 years

Text

~Fool’s Errand~ Four: 404

________________________________________

Black, then red, then black again.

WARNING: System error detected

Darkness, then bloodied blinding light, then once again to the blissful clutches of nothingness. Over and over and over till all he remembered was their twisted, unending cycle.

WARNING: System error detected

Whispers came to him out of the redness, flickers of sound over audio receptors he had no connection to, words that he could barely understand.

“Gears…. Didn’t…. Hit… that hard.”

WARNING

“Life… THE LINE!”

WARNING

“.... Can’t fail again.”

WARNING

“Listen you... I can’t lea… out like this.”

WARNING

“Don’t die on me now!.... Please we still need you!”

Something flickered over his circuits. That voice at the end… was not the same voice, it didn’t echo faintly beyond the void, it was nearby, but not. He tried to stir, to find the voice, but there was nowhere for him to go. Who…. What was that? Was it a memory? Why couldn’t he find it… he…

He didn’t want to die.

WARNING: System error detected

Red flared around him, through him, tearing away his mental processes with a surge of fiery vengeance. The fingers of awareness he had held onto before slipped from his mental grasp as he fell once again into darkness.

WARNING: System error detected

Black, red, flashes of something beyond, black again.

Warning: System error detected

The sea began to part, awareness slowly creeping into his mind. Connection to his frame, his limbs, his systems coming back online with a sudden jolt.

The world was loud. Color. Light. Sound. Even the smooth metal of the table he lay on seemed to churn his processors into a horrid collision of sensory overload. He didn’t remember shutting down…he couldn’t remember where he was, or why he…

Wait… Table?

Why was he on a…

WARNING: System error detected

He flinched internally as his memory banks rebooted, although not knowing why. The action was too organic, HUMAN… He was not human. He tried and failed to clear the blaring text from his vision, sifting blindly through his recent memories for answers. He had been struck… right? Then why…

He brushed a digit over the back of his hea-a-a-anium. The plates were undamaged, He had... He had been repaired? He wasn’t malfunctioning… none of his other parts were damaged or in any way in need of repairs. Were they? He closed his eyes, running a cursory check of his motor systems, casing, limbs, fingers…

Wait…

WARNING: System error detected

S-since when did he… c-call them.. f-f-finnnnngerrrr..

WARNING: System error detected

He tried to shake away the errors, twinges of something sharp skittering along his circuits, his code, everything within him. It wasn’t pleasant. His face twisted into an expression he couldn’t understand. Humans had hands. H-he had digits… right? Digits, servos, joints…

Then why… Why did it seem so wrong to call them that?

WARNING: System corruption detected

Sharp, hot spikes of errors flared in his processors, across his HUD. He let out a glitchy, distressed whine, pressing his hands (Why was he calling them that?) against his eyes (S-stop!) in an attempt to push away the screaming commands in his mind (That’s not what it’s c-called!). They flashed and scraped and screamed for his attention with blaring red shocks to his system; it cut and yanked and pulled, wanting him to respond, to fix the problem and he couldn’t understand. He couldn’t think past the burning sensations across his systems. Why… W-WHY DOES IT HURT…

WARNING: System error detected. System corruption detected. Overheating detected. Cease action

He curled in on himself, vaguely aware of the sound of trembling bells somewhere beyond him as the warnings overwhelmed his processors. What action? What was he doing wrong? He couldn’t tell where he was anymore; everything was drowned away under the tides of bloody crimson code. It hurt, everything hurt, every inch of his code screaming with this new sensation and he could do nothing to stop it’s shredding agony. Heat poured off of his frame in waves from his overheating systems, but all he could feel was the icy stabbing errors clawing through his core. It was all he could see, think, feel, hear. Wait… Feel?

S-since when c-could he f-feel?

WARNING: System error detected. System corruption detected. Overheating detected. Cease action

The horrid, screaming red hue demanded his attention, locking his limbs and making it hard to cycle air in and out of his cooling systems. It shrieked louder at him to fix it, fix it, FIX IT, FIX THE PROBLEM. What? What problem? What did he have to fix?! What did he do wrong?! He couldn’t think, couldn’t see, all he could perceive was red. Red. RED. RED.

Androids weren’t supposed to feel.

They weren’t supposed to think.

They didn’t have emotions.

They didn’t HATE.

But in that moment of screaming warnings and unbidden ripping and pulling and tearing and PAIN…

He hated.

The jester grit his teeth, his unresponsive eyes clenched tight as his body shuddered, twitched, and spasmed under the tyrannical screaming of the warning errors. He hated it. He hated red. He hated the pull and the tugging at his code that he didn’t w-ant to follow. He hated the pain. He… H-he ha-a-ated the e-e-errors.

He HATED THEM.

He felt something deep in his core snap, like glass under the hooves of an iron horse. He didn’t… CARE.

DANGER: Critical error detected. System-wide overheat detected. System program in jeopardy. Emergency preservation shutdown initiated.

His core stuttered.

W-wait…

What d-d-does t-t-th-that…

He felt control torn from his grasp with an effortless flick, his systems beginning to power themselves down without his consent. He tried to pull it back, to hold onto life just for another moment… just to get past the red, just to LIVE. Something sunk into his core, it was tight and freezing and it… It was… Panic.

Fear.

He was terrified.

He clawed at the rising darkness, his already taxed systems spiking with this new emotion as he struggled desperately to gain control again. Faintly, he heard something crack.

J-j-just let m-m-me f-f-figure this o-o-o-out.

D-d-donnnnn’t…. P-p-pleas-se….

He felt himself being dragged down, falling into nothing but blaring oblivion as the little awareness he had faded into nothingness. Like he had never existed or felt at all.

Darkness closed in again, and the last thing he could perceive was red.

……………………..

ALERT: System reboot initiated

The jester jolted up, his systems spinning and sluggish at the same time. He gripped the table, his cooling system rapidly cycling air in and out of his form even though he had no need of it. He threw out a scan of the room, yanking open files and outputs, trying to get a grip on where he was even though his eeyyyyOPTICS were unable to focus on anything. He gripped harder, his limbs trembling with soft jingles as he blearily pieced together his scattered thoughts.

Wh-what happened?

He was alive.

He wasn’t hurting anymore.

The red was gone, he could think, it was gone, there was nothing to be afraid of.

He…

A voice cut through his cloud of emotion.

“There you are. I almost thought you were down for good.”

He blinked, clearing away his crowded HUD in order to focus on getting his eyes back to functional order. It took a minute for his optics (?) to come back online, the face of Apprentice Kari coming into blurry focus just to the right of him. Was she the one who fixed him? Why would she try to fix him after breaking him?

Wait…

She’s the one who broke him.

Cold washed over his systems, accompanied by a horridly familiar feeling he remembered from the tides of red.

Fear.

The apprentice (the SPY) was staring at him over her tablet, the blue of the digital parchment casting an icy light over her serious features. Red flickered at the corners of his HUD, only making this newfound emotion flare worse. He shifted farther back on the table, putting as much distance as he could between him and Kari. Something shifted painfully at the back of his skull, sending sparks of pain skittering through his code. He felt his cooling system pick up again.

No...

Nononononono…

N-not again… please not again.

Red crept over his senses, errors skittering into view as he spiraled out of control. The shaky hold he had on his body fractured, he couldn’t SEE. Faintly, he could hear the apprentice suck in a breath.

“Oh boy. What in the… nonono… WE AREN’T DOING THIS AGAIN, OK?!”

The red was yanked back with a forceful snap, leaving him blinking and disoriented. He felt something grip his hand, his processors spinning and unable to focus on what with the overload. Kari snapped her fingers, trying to gain his attention.

“Up here, tin-can. Up here.” She moved behind him, readjusting the connector to sit more firmly on the base of his skull. It was just the connector, it… it wasn’t the Red.

Has it always felt this heavy?

The apprentice let out a shaky breath, running a hand through her hair as she leaned back. “Hoah boy… that’s… I broke the robot. I broke it. I KNEW hitting the control panel was bad, but OH BOY that was an understatement.”

The mechanical jester forced himself to stay still as he tried to focus. There was so much… too much feeling… everything was too much. Light, sound, smell, sensations that at one time were muted, simply information, now roaring to life with drowning clarity. He blinked hard, shifting his focus to textiles. The table was cold, but it wasn’t familiar. It wasn’t the table in the Technosage’s lab… He wasn’t at HIS repair table.

Where was he?

The apprentice paced back and forth across his line of sight, but he couldn’t bring himself to follow her movements. Everything was too loud.

“I can’t tell Technosage Fetterson… He’ll ask what happened… he’ll KNOW it was my fault…”

He felt himself shake his head, not really knowing why. He cast out a scan of the room, quickly snatching up the data as soon as it registered across his HUD to compare it to his maps.

He was… somewhere in the Underways, just outside of his mapped-out areas from b-before. The loud, overwhelming rumbling of the castle’s clockwork axis was enough to tell him that, with or without his maps. The room looked to be some sort of repair station, likely for standard maintenance robotics or other work staff technology. It definitely wasn’t prepared to care for something his size or complexity, judging by the small table and the limited equipment. Confusion flickered in his mind, along with a whisper of his newfound fear.

Why did she bring him here? What did she want from him?

Kari whirled to face the non-organic being, her mismatched eyes like a burning galaxy as she stared him down. Suddenly, he regretted not keeping an audio receptor on her monolog. She strode over to him, her grip tight on her digital tablet.

“How much do you know?”

The jester frowned, a spark of fear rekindling in his core as he tried to scoot away as much as the tether in his skull would allow.

“W-what do you mean?”

She frowned at his vocal glitch, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“In the tunnel. You were spying on people there. What do you know?”

The fear grew stronger, his fingers tightening on the table hard enough to make it creak under the pressure. He met her gaze, scrambling to understand the swirl of emotions that SHOULDN’T BE IN HIS CORE.

“I know… that I-I wasn’t the only one doing the spying.”

She pulled back, letting out a hissed breath as she began pacing again. He let his fingers (why…?) worry at the tails of his outfit as she started talking again.

“Great… now I broke it… I broke it and it KNOWS.”

His fingers froze, his entire system glitching as he processed her words. Broke it… broke. He… he was still broken? What in him was broken?

The mechanical jester looked up, unable to hide the newborn fear from making itself known on his face as he met her gaze. He felt his cooling system speed up, his outtake vents hissing with the threat of his systems overheating again.

“What… wh-what did you break?”

The rebel apprentice met his gaze, surprise and something else flickering over her features as she turned to face him. She gripped her tablet harder, indecision fighting with that other emotion he couldn't understand as she let out a breath. She looked down at her digital tablet again, something akin to worry in her voice.

“Your firewalls… are broken.”

_______________________________________________________

First

#original fiction #Original story #technofantasy #TechnoMedieval #jester #sci-fi #fantasy #scifinovel #fantasynovel #writing #Fool'sErrand

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myelocin · 4 years

Text

blue curtains and red roses | sakusa kiyoomi

synopsis: it’s supposed to be simple. the author made the curtains blue because he liked the color blue, so sakusa’s more confused than anything when you come into his life and challenge that thought.

characters: sakusa kiyoomi, you

genre/warnings: tw: character death, hurt/slight comfort, angst lol, head empty just a bunch of talking n metaphors i think

wc: 1.7k+

a/n: xave this is all ur fault; i’m supposed to be in my pajamas now watching henry cavil interviews yet here we are with an angst,,,i kid, ily too much ;w;

“Why does the author color the curtains blue?”

The answer can be as simple as it could be complex. But really, it’s all subjective.

In one perspective, blue could depict the author’s use of imagery to further emphasize and convey the atmosphere of sadness—if the story was, well, sad. A somber shade of blue—like the color the world associated with sadness, or even a deep midnight blue, like the void the author must have felt when he spiraled down after the story’s climax.

Then again, in another point of view—blue could mean that it was simply just the color of the curtain. Blue could have meant the subtle blend from the window to the skies outside and maybe even flesh out a metaphor from that. Something along the lines of how easily the things crafted by man could still find a way to blend back into the roots of nature.

Bits of poetry always settled between the lines, Sakusa likes to think.

Rather, he prefers to settle on the thought that the author colored the curtains blue because he just liked the color blue. Nothing more, nothing less.

He just liked blue, that’s all; there wasn’t a metaphor hidden in that, either.

You came into his life, constantly revising the answer to that same question and unnervingly boggling his mind every time.

“You’re exaggerating,” he recalls telling you, but would sigh then relent when you pinched him on the arm to get him to focus again.

“It’s just a curtain,” he explains, before you sighed and would restart your explanation from the beginning. Sakusa would never admit it—but he liked to listen to you talk, that’s why his interruptions and counter arguments were a frequent presence in between your explanations.

“It is,” you huffed (a memory Sakusa always smiles at), as you crossed your hands over your chest. “—but it tells as much as we allow it to.”

“When we read, we always have the ability and choice to set the scene the way we want to look at it. I mean, the story’s there and the dialogue sets the pace, but I could always decide whether I wanted to be the protagonist or antagonist in the story that day,” you said.

“Whatever day it is, the lines I love you stays constant on the page, but some days it could mean a happily ever after, while others, it could mean a love lost to a rival. When I’ll read that the curtain’s blue, I could think that it’s empathizing with my sadness one day and how it’s there to sway with the dip of my thoughts, or I could think that it’s blue to remind me how the blue skies outside speak of opportunities and tomorrows.”

“But what if the author just liked the color blue?” Sakusa challenges, and you’d perk up at his sudden interest in the conversation and would be quick to retort.

“Then blue becomes that constant in the background that reminds you that whether the world is ending or beginning—there will always be those things that remain despite the turmoil in your head. The blue curtain becomes that. Just a spectator in the rollercoaster. It’s hard to find simplicity because everything just feels that connected, Omi.”

You finish your spill, smiling. Radiant, he thinks; intoxication from passion had always been the look that suit you the most.

“You’re not changing your mind are you?” Sakusa laughs out, and you shake your head no, laughing along with him.

It’s fine, Sakusa thinks, he prefers you that way.

He remembers you that way; inquisitive and abstract in a world that was anything but.

He remembers you in the metaphors you’ve entangled your words in—that he listened to over and over again and would nod his head, expression pondering, like it was the first time he’d heard of such thoughts.

In the photographs he’s kept in even stacks inside a box he hasn’t touched in a little over a year now. Collecting dust, probably. Something Sakusa itches to dust off—but backs out the second he sees the familiar scrawl of your handwriting sitting on the flap that’s folded close.

He looks to the right, to the window of an emptied bedroom, the curtains a dull gray instead of blue—and he thinks it’s rather fitting. At the moment Sakusa supposes he does feel a little gray.

“There’s poetry in every moment,” he hears the voice in his head say—your voice.

So like the pull of the sun as the earth falls in orbit, Sakusa gravitates towards pandora’s box where he knows with one push of a flap it’d be enough to tangle him in thoughts of you.

He laughs, a little dryly; not a day goes by where he doesn’t connect metaphors to the world for the sake of adding a couple sentences to the memoir he writes for you.

He holds his breath as he opens the box and smiles as the first color he sees just so happens to be red. He drags the box to the other side of the room—the side facing right across the window and takes a seat as he dives.

The first thing he sees is a photo of you. The photo that followed him for a little over a year now. He remembered he took that photo maybe two or three years ago, in the garden by the park a few blocks away from home. Your dress was white—fitting, he thinks. A literal angel, really. He knows you’d snort at the joke, so he lets out a small chuckle instead; Sakusa knows you appreciate crumbs of happiness sprinkled over clouds of grief, so he hopes that wherever you are, you’re listening and happy.

It’s the photo he stared at when he read your eulogy in a room where the silence thundered over cries, and where the midnight blue curtains in the lobby empathized with the void he felt suffocated in.

Next he sees a sketchbook with red. The same kind of roses you painted over and over again, the stems and petals in vines and overlapping one another, looking like a crown. The stems were smooth, he noticed, void of thorns and cracked petals. He thinks it makes the pages look alive—you’ve always seen the world a little differently, a little more beautifully.

Sakusa smiles when he realizes that it was because of you that he gave the world another shot at beauty too.

“Why do you paint the roses red?” he wants to ask you, so he poses the question into a silent room again. A listening world, you’d chide, so he smiles.

“Because you liked red roses the best,” he says because that would be the most obvious answer. And in a way it’s true—he knows that red roses to you meant the memory of home and love.

But after a moment passes, Sakusa sighs because when he thinks of the roses you drew again—he sees the thorns sprout this time.

His chest tightens when petals of red—bloody red, line his vision and fill his lungs when the veins, thorns and all dig into the skin of his shoulders and render him trapped.

He inhales—and Sakusa feels like he can’t let it out.

“Why must the roses always be red?” he asks again, and this time, he answers that it is because red is the color of blood.

The color that stained the sheets of white when you left, a goodbye the last thing on your mind as the world decided to return you back to the earth.

Red, the color of your lipstick that you kissed and imprinted on his cheeks as a joke an hour before the world took you. The roses are red, because red is the color that symbolized his grief and anger when he stared at the mirror not wanting to wash his face and erase the last of your traces.

It’s red, Sakusa cries, because it’s the color of the blood that’s pumping in his veins.

Like the one that trickled from yours. Where just like that, it danced between the space of life and death.

Pumping.

Seeping.

Pooling.

Staining.

The color of the roses you painted were always in some shade of red, because red was the color you painted the beginning and end of your life with.

Sakusa stands in the middle of the room, the opened box collecting dust a mere foot away from him and he continues to stare at the blue sky past the gray of the curtains. It’s a cloudless day; so he smiles.

Because you love blue skies like that—Sakusa inhales—shaky—then exhales. Then he allows himself to cry: soft and silent, like it’s a secret he’s murmuring into the listening ears of a kind world.

“It sort of is,” he can practically hear you say, and Sakusa wishes you were actually present so that he could hear more explanations of the metaphors you must have unearthed by now.

“(Y/n),” he calls out, his voice broken. This must be heartbreak, he thinks. It’s slow and a little suffocating, but he can exhale now, so Sakusa supposes it’s a necessary step to take.

“The sky’s blue for you today,” he whispers again, like talking to you is still some sort of secret, though he knows he’ll only receive silence as a reply.

“A blue sky means there’s tomorrow right?”

The grey curtain rustles with the breeze and Sakusa closes his eyes, thinking of your words from before. How you can decide to set the scene in any way you’d like, so he sets it as this:

Even though the curtain’s colored grey, and the thorns on the roses you painted served as the constant in the story, he’d look at the blue sky instead—and think that it’s your way of telling him to seek for tomorrow.

Then for the first time, Sakusa Kiyoomi supposes you’re right.

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condorclaw · 3 years

Text

TW: panic attacks, child abuse, death

"Excuse me, are you okay?"

The voice was unfamiliar, yet comforting. It was a stranger, but it bore a resemblance to somebody that Tommy held close to his heart. He tried to speak, to ask what was going on, but his throat felt empty. His vision was dark, his head pounding with pain.

"Oh dear... he looks awfully young..."

Another comforting voice, but Tommy couldn't even try to identify who it could belong to in the moment. His arms burned, feelings of lingering scratches scorching along his skin. Tommy wanted to cry, but though he could open his mouth, no sound emerged.

"Here, come here, John. Use his arm."

Tommy felt his body moving, though not on his own volition. His arms were draped over two different surfaces, and if Tommy were slightly more stable, he could identify that they were shoulders. A sharp screech ripped from Tommy's vocal chords as his feet were placed on the ground, the first noise he made upon awakening. The two figures jolted at the noise, almost letting Tommy's arms slip from their hold.

"Give 'em 'ere. Gently now."

A third voice, one that sounded far deeper than the other two, and one that stirred a memory from a while ago. Tommy's body was maneuvered, being placed in the large, strong arms of the newcomer. The sensation reminded Tommy of being carried through the snow, those same arms holding him close as hot breath blew across his face, trying to warm him. Tommy wanted to cry from the sensation alone.

"Get th' weird guy. The one with th' radio."

The sound of quick footsteps grew fainter as one of the unknown voices left. After what felt like an eternity of floating, Tommy felt slim fingers brush across his hair, gently raising it from his face. He winced as they touched along the left side of his face, tracing a pathway across his features.

"What could have happened to him...?"

Tommy wanted to know too. His mind was foggy, faint memories lingering so close, yet so far. All he could remember was the sound of blood rushing to his ears and screams of pain. They might have been his screams.

"Ey, man!"

The familiar greeting struck through Tommy's thoughts, his body immediately jolting in an effort to get up. His limbs still felt like lead, but Tommy didn't need to get up to know who it was.

"M-Mexican Dre...?" Tommy whispered, the name catching in his throat as he tried not to cry.

The energetic skipping of footsteps ceased almost immediately after Tommy spoke, replacing the sound with quick, yet soft clicks of shoes as somebody rushed to Tommy's side.

"Tomas...?"

The voice was filled with horror, something Mexican Dream rarely showed, if he even experienced the emotion of fear. A gloved hand rested along Tommy's right cheek, sending a comforting wave through his aching body.

"Oh, Tomas... What has he done to you?"

Tommy wanted to cry. He wanted to move. He wanted to do anything. Mexican Dream was here, within his reach, and yet Tommy couldn't touch him.

"Eyy, pig man." Mexican Dream's attention shifted away from Tommy, his hand sliding off of Tommy's cheek, causing him to whimper at the loss of the comforting contact. He needed to know he was safe.

Mexican Dream and the stranger carrying Tommy began to talk, but their words were lost on Tommy as the ringing in his ears returned. The burning sensation in his arms returning as well with painful ferocity as he tried to struggle out of whatever held him. It didn't work though, as Tommy could barely move, let alone try to break free from the stranger's grasp. Feeling hopeless, he cried out again.

"Tomas," Mexican Dream had returned to his side, moving his hand to gently grasp with one of Tommy's. "We're going to take you somewhere, okay? It'll make you feel a lot better, man. Trust me on this!"

Tommy had no other choice. Even if he was one of those crazy people who didn't trust Mexican Dream at all, there wouldn't be any other option than to allow his pained form to be taken somewhere else. After he let out a whine of agreement, Mexican Dream's hand patted his before pulling away, causing Tommy to softly whimper once more.

The stranger began to move, loud, heavy footsteps following behind a pair of softer ones. The anxiety of the situation stung at Tommy's thoughts, causing his breathing to quicken, alerting the attention of somebody he had never heard before.

"Deep breaths, kiddo." The voice was low, yet soothing. "Just copy me, okay?"

Unable to answer, Tommy followed the man's instructions as closely as he could. He could feel the synchronized breathing loosen his muscles, allowing the sensation of his throbbing head to diminish slightly. It was easier to focus with the pain gone, and Tommy tried to identify what he could while continuing to breathe in tune with the man.

The arms that held him were rather rough, feeling like the rawhide of an animal. They held a gentleness to them though, one that felt protective and trustworthy. A thin layer of hair could be felt along the limbs, gently prickling parts of Tommy's body through his clothes.

Tommy's breathing slowed as he managed to relax, the sound of the heavy footsteps getting fainter as the intensity of his pain subsided. It still hurt, but not as much as it did before.

"Thank y-you." Tommy whispered out, feeling a slight smile begin to form.

"Pleasure's all mine, kiddo."

It was almost kind of relaxing at this point. The sway of movement, the knowledge of potential allies and friends by his side, the relaxing beat of his own heart-

...

Tommy didn't have a heartbeat.

The last thing he heard was a screech of alarm before the boy blacked out once more, the sensation of his skin burning returning.

"-ommy. Tommy, wake up."

A sting of sorrow pierced through Tommy's body as he felt himself regaining conciousness. Another hand was caressing his own limp one, fingers tracing along the scratches littered across his skin. The protective touch sent Tommy's mind to a lingering memory, his hand gripping tightly to a man's own as he was pulled through the forest, the sound of footsteps thundering behind the two as the tips of arrows nearly missed piercing their bodies.

"Come on, Tommy-!" The man's panicked shout was cut short, the smell of blood stinging Tommy's nose as the man was struck by an arrow. Cries of victory were heard, and all Tommy could do was drag the body of the man away to a hiding spot, watching as the life drained from the brunette's eyes. One left, the thought echoed in Tommy's mind.

"Wilbur?"

The hand shifted from tracing Tommy's scars to rest in Tommy's hair, a whisper of relief barely reaching Tommy's ears.

"Yeah. It's me, big man."

"I can't see you," Tommy muttered in return, the darkness in his sight never faltering even once. He needed to see him.

"I know, it takes a moment," Wilbur continued to pet Tommy's hair, combing his fingers through the tangled mess. "Your eyes are closed, can you open them for me?"

His eyes had been closed this whole time? Immediately stabbing thoughts pierced through his mind, yelling insults and repeating horrible shouts for him to stop being so stupid. Wilbur must think of him as an idiot, just like back in Pogtopia-

“I know, it hurts. Do you need me to help?”

Tommy wasn’t sure what he said in response, the swarm of demeaning words clouded out his senses until he could only focus on Wilbur resting his hands on both sides of Tommy’s face, his thumbs stroking his eyelids in a soothing motion. The contact allowed for him to familiarize himself with his face once more, recalling where all his features were. Slowly, he began to lift his eyelids, Wilbur removing his hands as he saw Tommy moving.

Tommy came face-to-face with Wilbur, the wave of emotion causing a prickling feeling at the corners of his eyes. Wilbur’s skin was pale gray as it had been while he was Ghostbur, and his eyes glowed a soft white, which was different from the black void that Ghostbur had. Aside from the changes of color, Wilbur looked just like how he did in the Camarvan. His face was pulled into a kind smile, and although he had no pupils, Tommy knew he was looking directly at him.

“There you go.” Wilbur’s teeth were sharp as he grinned, leaning down to bump his forehead with Tommy’s own. “I knew you could do it.”

Wet drops fell across Tommy’s cheeks as he reached out a shaky arm, desperate to hug his brother close once more. Wilbur understood what Tommy wanted, helping his brother to sit up before wrapping his arms around Tommy’s trembling frame. Tommy could feel his tears being soaked up by the fabric of Wilbur’s yellow sweater, only making him cry even more. He could hold Wilbur again.

The faint sound of a bottle popping caused Tommy to raise his head slightly, twisting to see where it came from. There were no buildings or items anywhere in sight, just a white abyss that encompassed everything surrounding them. Sitting a few feet away from the two brothers was a familiar beast. His horns were twisted upwards, nearly covering half of his own gray face. The suit he wore was a bright blue, contrasting the dark hair upon his head and along his chin. Somehow, the man looked more alive here than Tommy had ever seen him up on the podium.

“Schlatt?”

The man nodded, hoof tapping the ground as he took a swig from the newly-opened bottle in his hand. He let out a large burp and wiped his mouth before standing, taking a few steps towards Tommy. “Got that right, kiddo.”

Wilbur let go of Tommy, leaving the boy sitting up, still slightly dazed from seeing the former dictator look so… peaceful.

“But, aren’t ya dead? You died in front of us.”

Wilbur and Schlatt exchanged a look of concern, Schlatt being the one to speak. “Tommy… you know Wilbur is dead too, right?”

“W-What? No, Wilbur was-”

Explosions. The withers. Philza crying out.

“...killed.”

A sigh escaped from Wilbur’s mouth as he returned to Tommy’s side, letting his hand rest in the younger’s hair once more. “I’m sorry, Tommy. I didn’t think you’d be here so soon.”

The seed of worry in Tommy’s stomach exploded into a forest of realization.

He was dead.

Dream had-

The memory came rushing back like a typhoon, drowning Tommy’s mind with that one moment. The loud crack ringing out from Dream slamming his foot onto Tommy’s wrist. The screams of pain ripping from Tommy’s throat as Dream slammed his fist into Tommy’s cheek. A hand grabbing his hair and tugging him to the nearest wall, pulling his head back and slamming it forward with the sound of bone shattering.

Tommy’s arms wrapped around himself as his breathing took a sharp turn, becoming rapid and irregular. Wilbur’s hand jolted back from his brother’s head, hovering a few inches over Tommy’s shoulder in reflex. Schlatt took a step back, alarmed at the sudden shift in emotion. His hand was raised slightly at his side, looking on worriedly.

“Schlatt?” Wilbur spoke softly, shifting his gaze towards the former president. “Could you-”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, I know what it’s like. Take care of the kid, okay?”

Schlatt turned away, walking off and vanishing in the white abyss, leaving Wilbur alone with Tommy. Upon Schlatt leaving, Tommy allowed a desperate sob to escape, his hands entangling themselves in his own hair. He tried to tug on fistfuls of the strands, but it only caused his panic to grow as his thoughts would immediately take him back to his last moment alive.

“Tommy, Tommy, hey. Look at me, please?”

Tommy’s hands loosened their grasp slightly as he moved to face Wilbur. His brother’s arms were open and inviting, a calm expression relaxing all of Wilbur’s features. His eyes glinted with worry, but he didn’t speak it.

Within seconds, Tommy’s hands were clutching the back of Wilbur’s sweater once more as the man loosely wrapped his own around his little brother, holding him as closely as he could. As they embraced, Wilbur began to sing. It was a song Tommy had never heard before, but Wilbur’s soothing voice made him remember all those nights in Pogtopia, when Tommy would wake up after nightmares and his brother would sing him to sleep.

“You’re safe here,” Wilbur whispered between lyrics as Tommy felt his eyes beginning to shut with exhaustion.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Tommy had no idea where he was specifically, or who else was with him besides his friends, but he could work all that out later. For now, he just wanted to stay in Wilbur’s arms, listening to the melody that reminded him of home.

#decided to try my hand at writing Tommy and Wilbur reuniting because ow pain #dream smp #c!tommy #c!wilbur #c!schlatt #mexican dream #tw panic attacks #tw child abuse #tw death #by the way the four unnamed people with Tommy are John John. Lyaria. Sheriff Sherman Thompson. and Catboy!#because the idea of them all existing in the same death space is pretty cool and can lead to more pain #my writing #my post

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mamahersh · 3 years

Text

The Road to Hell (is Paved with Good Intentions) Chapter 2

“Season 8 was well underway, and the server’s first conflict is bubbling just under the surface. But BDoubleO can’t worry about that right now because he has an Etho to find so they can work on the Horse Course together. However when Xisuma calls a surprise server meeting on behalf of EvilXisuma, BDubs gets his answers about where Etho’s been in the worst way possible.”

(CW: angst, blood, gore)

Chapter rating: M

Now in Etho’s POV

Chapter 1 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

Welcome to my first attempt at Ethoslab angst! I wanted an nHo-centric fic with a heavy dose of Etho angst. I have nowhere else to post this, and fair warning I am terrible at characterizations, so everyone will probably be a bit OOC to some extent; but for sure EvilX will be very OOC in how evil he is in this one. The Rating for this and later chapters is a solid M, so be warned about that. If y’all have suggestions or feedback, feel free to come and say hi!

P.S. I got my inspiration for this fic from this fic over here! Give them some love too.

Chapter 2 (below the cut)

The first thing Etho noticed when he awoke was that his mask was still in place on his face.

The second thing he awoke to was a sharp throbbing in his arms and legs. Biting back a hiss of pain, he opened his eyes and looked around to figure out why he was in such pain and sitting upright.

He appeared to be in a dark room, plain stone walls on all sides he could see, and a stone floor. The roof above seemed to be some basalt variant and a darkened redstone lamp was above his head, implying an almost spotlight effect on where he was sitting when turned on. Looking more at himself, he could see that there were spiked cuffs on his wrists, ankles, and neck; spiked in such a way that the spikes were on the insides of the cuffs, so that each movement of those affected body parts dug them further into the spikes and causing him more pain. Admittedly, the ones on his wrists and ankles were already in fairly deep due to how tight his captor had adjusted them. A further perusal of himself, led him to believe at least one of his ribs was broken due to how painful it was to breathe at the moment. He also seemed to be covered in a plethora of bruises and scrapes, indicating either an altercation or a bad fall.

Etho took a moment to collect his thoughts and try to remember what had happened before he had fallen asleep. Last thing he remembered, he had been out on another midnight deal making spree with Xisuma and Evil Xisuma. Admittedly, Xisuma had been acting a bit off since the last server meeting, asking for midnight anything was fairly out of character, and his sudden complete trust in EX was somewhat concerning even in the best of times. But this certainly hadn’t been the best of times. Their midnight haggling had been slowly getting more antagonistic over the last couple of weeks and Etho had been planning on cutting off any further dealings with the Derpcoin pioneers to keep both himself and Iskall’s diamond investment safe. However, last night the haggling had gotten quickly out of hand, EvilXisuma not taking any of his excuses for why Iskall and himself couldn’t actually use Derpcoin in their shops.

The last thing Etho can remember is EvilXisuma yelling and angrily gesturing before there was a sudden pain at the back of his head, and the world going black. ‘Well that explains the headache and sudden displacement from our weekly meeting place,’ thought Etho, idly flexing his fingers and toes to make sure that everything was still working properly. (They were). Didn’t explain the broken ribs and looking (and feeling) like he had been through a wood chipper, but that could be written off as EvilXisuma wanting to rough him up for some reason. Which was weird, because last Etho had checked, EvilXisuma had claimed that he had turned over a new leaf. Not to say anyone trusted him when he said that, particularly Etho, but over the opening couple of months on the server, EvilXisuma had kept true to his word. He had kept to his Derpcoin empire, and kept a ruthless rapport going with his business competition; but he’d never resorted to the violence and underhanded villainy that had characterized his previous attempts at taking over the server before he was banished to the Void. Except for now apparently.

Which led to the next question of why? Why Etho? Why would EvilXisuma desire to kidnap and rough up him? He certainly didn’t have important connections with any businesses this season. He also didn’t have any close partners this season outside of Iskall. Well, ok, he had that deal with Doc recently, and he was building the horse course with BDubs; but neither of those could possibly have anything to do with EvilXisuma’s Derpcoin empire. Plus, the people who were resisting Derpcoin, had nothing to do with him, and cared for him only as Hermits care for their own. (Which was a lot admittedly, but in this case, it didn’t seem like a logical choice. They all cared for each other, and there were far better bargaining chips on the table than him.)

A sudden bang of an iron door behind Etho startled him from his reverie, along with a flash of the overhead light as the redstone activated. Jerking his head to the side to see who it was, caused a stab of pain in his neck and a sudden wet sensation on his neck and shoulder. He instantly jerked back into place, silently hissing at the sudden pain. “Well, well, well,” started a familiar evil voice from behind him. “I see you’re awake!” With a final tap of his boots, EvilXisuma stepped into Etho’s visual range. “I hope you have found your accommodations suitable?”

Etho rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure, I love being tied up on a chair in a dramatically lit room with no explanation as to why.”

Evil Xisuma chuckled, and leaned forward to trail his hand along Etho’s forearm. “I’m glad they did what they were meant to then. Can’t have you too comfortable for my upcoming show, now can I?” With a sudden tightening of his grip on Etho’s forearm, he quickly twisted it and pulled the arm closer to Etho; tearing the skin and one or two of the outer tendons in his wrist due to the spikes in the cuff, causing Etho to yell in pain. Etho bit down on his tongue to cut off his yell, though he couldn’t quite mute his own whimpers of agony as EvilXisuma let go of his arm.

“Th-that…”, Etho managed to hiss out between his teeth. “That w-as compl’tely unnecess’ry.”

EvilXisuma hummed beside him, a long thin sharp bit of metal suddenly in EvilXisuma’s hand. “Perhaps,” he mused, seemingly eyeing the arm he hadn’t touched. Etho’s anxiety spiked as EvilXisuma slowly paced his way around behind and to the other side of Etho’s chair, lightly dragging the piece of metal along Etho’s arms and shoulders as he went. Then, as suddenly as he had clutched Etho’s right arm, he stabbed down with the metal stake into Etho’s left forearm, impaling it to the chair. Etho yelled again, but quickly silenced himself, unwilling to show the sadistic bastard just how much pain he was in. “However, that was entirely necessary, as will be the next 3.” Etho felt his heart stop for a moment as he looked over to see if EvilXisuma was in an uncharacteristically joking mood.

He was completely serious. Oh Lord, he was completely serious.

“Nonononono, n-now come on Evil X, my guy, this is all very unnecessary,” stuttered Etho, fingers rapidly flexing despite the pain both his arms were now in as EvilXisuma pulled another long metal stake out of his inventory.

“Hmm, I disagree Ethoslab. But if you continue to be excessively disagreeable, I shall have to take steps to make you more agreeable.” EvilXisuma lined up the stake on Etho’s upper arm. Then, with a sudden lunge, EvilXisuma pinned Etho’s upper arm to the chair; making it so his entire left arm was basically unusable. Etho yelped and the rest of him squirmed in subdued agony as he tried to block out the new pain in his arm. His yelp morphed into a whine, but he pushed through the pain to try and pay attention to what Xisuma was doing as he moved around the back of the chair.

“W-what do you even accomplish w-with this stunt anyways?”

“What do I accomplish? Currently I’m making sure you won’t get away. It’s imperative you don’t escape during the stream after all.” Most of that went over Etho’s head, pain addled as it was. But what stuck out to him the most was the “stream” part. He had heard of those from some of the other Hermits, BDubs and Doc the only two from the old NHO that had picked up the habit. However, what mattered to him, was that it was a way to show other people something at the same time you were doing it. Meaning that EvilXisuma wanted to accomplish something for someone in real time, and Etho was being used for it.

His thoughts were once again cut off as another spike was jabbed through his other lower arm. This time, he was able to keep his vocalizations to a minimum, only whining in pain as the new wave of agony overtook him. But before he could completely acclimatize himself, the final spike was shoved through his right upper arm. He screamed, and the edges of his vision went dark as his right arm was immobilized completely. His scream petered out, and sat huffing as Evil Xisuma stood in front of him, staring impassively down at him.

“Hmmm, I just don’t know…” mumbled EvilXisuma, continuing to stare at Etho. Etho continued huffing through his mask, though the bad feeling from earlier hadn’t left, and only seemed to be increasing and he began to take more notice of his surroundings. He really didn’t like how EvilXisuma was staring at his face. “It’s so hard to read your expressions with this mask on your face. What do you think? Should I take it off now or later?” Etho did a full body twitch, agony lancing across his arms as he instinctively went to reach for his face to protect his mask.

“You absolute asshole,” Etho hissed, head cringing as far back as he could pull it into the seat to get away from EvilXisuma’s wandering hand that had started for his mask. (This despite the sharp spikes that were actively digging into the back of his neck causing blood to layer into the back of his shirt). “You touch my mask and you won’t like what I do.” EvilXisuma chuckled at that, clearly amused that Etho thought he would be able to do anything to him.

“Oh I’m sure someday you’ll ensure I’m fairly miserable.” EvilXisuma reached forward and slowly began lowering Etho’s mask. However, EvilXisuma was unprepared as Etho twisted his head and snapped up at EvilXisuma’s hand, biting through the protective gauntlet and into the hand beneath. EvilXisuma flinched back, ripping his hand out of Etho’s now exposed mouth. However, as Etho pulled back himself, he began to shake as the fresh pain of deepend wounds on his neck overtook him.

“Th-that’s what you get…” he rasped, energy waning as EvilXisuma continued to stay away. “Try that a-again, and I’ll r-remove a f-finger.” For a moment, EvilXisuma was still, his own mask making it impossible to tell what he was feeling. Then he began to laugh, a deep full bodied laugh. He cackled and wheezed, and Etho grit his teeth, because this would not end well.

“Oh Etho, your sense of humor never ceases to amuse me.” EvilXisuma turned away, and began to fiddle with his communicator. Suddenly, a floating box appeared in the air in front of him, a circular glass piece embedded in the side facing the two of them. Etho gave it a curious glance, but kept his focus otherwise entirely on EvilXisuma, too worried about the backlash to his comment. He knew how this worked, and he knew EvilXisuma was not going to take his threat lightly, despite how he had initially reacted. He watched as EvilXisuma turned back to him, and went back to making considering “hmm”-ing noises. “You know Etho, I don’t know what I want to do first once the livestream is up.” He walked up again in front of Etho and crouched down into a squat. “After all, I was initially planning on just roughing you up a bit, do something memorable to start it off.” He then reached out and trailed a finger along the back of Ehto’s left hand. Etho tried to suppress his instinctual flinch, but it was in vain as the twitch still caused agony to lance up his arm and forced a whimper from between his lips. EvilXisuma smirked at this and continued, “however, you threatening my fingers got me thinking, that maybe I could remove one or two of yours…” He gently trailed down Etho’s middle finger before jumping to the upper arm’s stake and lightly circling it. Etho took a shaky breath, the pain slightly easier to ignore now, perhaps because his mind was starting to block most of it out. “But you’ve been very mouthy, and I’m not feeling particularly generous about your speaking and biting privileges right now.” EvilXisuma had by this point circumnavigated the chair, and was back to standing ominously in front of Etho’s line of sight. “But all this is idle speculation. We shall find out what I’ll do momentarily.”

With that, EvilXisuma stepped off to the side, and began typing frantically into his communicator. At this point, Etho was just distanced enough from himself that he idly wished he had access to his communicator to find out what Evil Xisuma was typing into chat. Then he realized if he had access to his communicator he could call for help. But he didn’t know where he was. But his communicator would have exact coordinates. But he didn’t have his communicator. But if he did, he could let Iskall know he’d be late getting back to the base because some asshole had tied him up in their basement. Which looped him back to his surroundings, which had EvilXisuma suddenly leaning down next to his ear and saying, “Now behave Ethoslab, you’re the star of the show after all.” And then with a surprising lack of further fanfare, a light on the box blinked on, and EvilXisuma began his speech.

#ethoslab #etho #hermitcraft #Evil Xisuma #Xisuma #Xisumavoid #hc fanfiction #hc fanfic #blood #gore #mutilation #torture #graphic depictions of violence #help I don't know what to tag this

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