#And being stared at by thousands of eyes is horrific

[kel-lance]

Team Bonding: JJK students x reader x sukuna Part 3

- TW: Dead dove dont read (DDDR) Minors do not interact (MDNI): SA, Physical Assault, DubCon, NonCon, Mindbreak, Public Humiliation, Multiple manipulation, RWORD, PTSD, a lot more.

- Premise: Characters are (18+) (Reader is 21) Jujutsu College au where things are the same but they found yuuji/He ate the finger at 18/+ the start of college.

- Yuuji “came back” after two months of “being dead” and you’re in charge of the training for today for the kyoto sister event.

- Sukuna switches with yuuji in this and chaos ensues :/

After was the worst fucking thing in the world. As much as you wished you could have blacked out the reality of it, or at least the hour after but you were wide awake, laying there. Yuuji was the one knocked out, Sukuna had switched back to gave you some time to clean yourself up. (Slapping you awake, reminding you to stay awake bc of your head injuries.)

His deal was that Yuuji doesn’t find out, that whenever he came around, they would show him your homework, and if he wasn’t satisfied with it he would show them what he wanted to see. After what they witnessed, they really couldn’t let that happen again, bc they knew it would be worse if he were to touch you rather than them. 

Whenever he did want to get a rise out of you, he’d start eyeing Maki and Nobara, where you roar back to life and have more fight in you. You knew first hand how awful he was, you weren’t going to let him hurt more people. 

Yuuji, if he ever finds out, would probably off himself, and we know it’s not his fault so we can’t let that happen either. “You won’t know when I’ll be back, so do your best.” He was fucking sick.

Everyone decided to stay with you, in trios. At night you were with the girls as that didn’t raise suspicion from the RT’s. Sometimes though, the other pairs would volunteer and watch you in your room while you slept during the day, if you ever needed it.

Nobara helps you more often, and tries to help you ground yourself by holding your hand. Her thing now was to lightly apply pressure to the joints of your hands to ground you, until you leaned into her for a hug or pulled away, signaling what was going on in your head.

Maki would always keep a look out. “That was fucking horrific to watch.” She could remember how the Zenin clan were so gross with trying to sell her and her sister off. The older men would look but they didn’t want responsibility for them, let alone chance that they couldn’t chance their own being born without cursed energy. It was more of an insult to be presented Maki, as Mai does have some. 

Her own personal feelings weren’t really what was fueling it, the threat of and forced witnessing of mistreatment without being able to do anything… She’ll play his game but never let him touch you again. After speaking with Nobara, you asked to smoke to knock yourself out. 

Medicine is the best rn, your body’s healed, but your mental, it was sure something you couldn’t heal. It was a lot in the moment and you’d just want to revert back to your old ways of coping and you knew they’d understand, but they wouldn’t let you.

So just a hit or two, as much as you could hold in, until your lungs burned, that it spread up to your throat and seared your nostrils. It was a really dry cough, and you were a mess, your eyes tearing and spit was caught in your sleeve, and you tried to wipe your running nose too. These hits were the ones where you didn’t look, somehow that helped you take in more air. Maybe it was better concentration, in this case you just wanted to be unconscious. 

After they put the piece away, and asked if you wanted help in the bath. You could feel the tension as your confident, abrasive and loud self was unblinking, staring out to nothing. You had just gotten back to your rooms as Gojo came back a little bit too late, where he found you were sitting with a thousand yard stare. 

The others were so quiet, and Yuuji knocked out on the floor, he could only come to the conclusion, “Did I miss out on a really crazy fight or something?” No one responded. “Wow,” He places a hand behind his head, looking at the dim crowd. “Okay… Well, class is dismissed for today. Can someone help me bring Yuuji to Shoko? Megumi? Thanks.”

Megumi broke out of his shell shock and looked down at his friend. That look told Gojo something, but the Honored One wasn’t interested in his students’ relationships (when they’re all seemingly fresh into the drama). He’ll wait or bug it out of his somewhat son. Megs got Yuuji on his back, acting like his friend was more hurt than let on. You knew Megs was in a tough spot, and he was acting his BEST, in front of Gojo no less. He couldn’t lie unless it was jokingly, and even that was rare.  

________________________________________________________

Maki helps you stand in the shower, she’s in her underwear to help you make it more comfortable. She knew to keep testing out the water before realizing you were getting lost in your dizzy spur as Nobara comes in with her phone. 

“Nobara.” Your friend held you up and pulls you into her. “What are you doing?”

“It sounds heartless,” She started. “But I thought if we took pictures now, it’d give (y/n) more time away from Sukuna.” Maki’s hold on you loosened a bit, going back to grab at the loofa and pumping body soap onto it. Nobara continued. “I was going over our options and honestly, who knows what he’ll do next. I don’t even-“

Maki sighs loudly, asking her to stop talking. There was a pause, letting Maki think further into this. “It’s up to (y/n).” 

“It’s really not.” You thought. This whole situation wouldn’t be happening if you could even let it. “Nothing after this is going to be mine. Everything was given away in front of everyone, your entire being bare, your most vulnerable just out in daylight. You couldn’t even be glad it was just in front of your friends, what if strangers saw, or your professors, and what if they couldn’t help you too?

Maki held you and had you lean your weight on her. Nobara grit her teeth, she wanted to ask you what you wanted but obviously this was the best solution. It wasn’t to save herself, it wasn’t to save just you either. Everyone’s lives were at risk because of this horny demon.

But really, blackmail? That’s what it’s come to. That’s really the only thing that could get your people to turn on you. You thought they knew you better, that you’d rather choose to die than let the humiliation continue. Maybe it was because you missed your chance to voice your opinion, of your own body, of the situation you staggered in not so long ago.  

The shock though, the over exertion of using your reversed curse technique really was a challenge, You usually hold off the healing until after, showing off once again. The pain would make you feel alive, and let them know they were landing their punches and hits. You eye at the shower handle, to make the water temperature hotter. 

Burning, you wanted to feel clean. You wanted to have your skin melt off like a layer of wax. The places on the outside where he’s touched, honestly chop them off. You would rather have a meat cleaver cut them clean off than have any more blood pulsate under your violated skin. And the pit in your stomach, it wasn’t even a pit anymore you were sick, he left sick in you and it was spreading. Your head hurt, your vulva and the actual cylinder that makes up your core, you wanted to cut it out, or shove a hot metal rod inside to cauterize the wound, or to clean the area with fire.

Or maybe even you’d eat the rod, have it melt through your neck as you have a few seconds of searing bliss. But instead you’ll have to be okay with the hot water of the shower. Nobara notices your eyes and tells Maki that you’re cold, and to get started so they could help you to bed faster. 

The water that hit your chest was at a steady pressure, the temp rising an your skin started to blotch and turn pinker. Your body was tingling and the hot water was almost getting you to feel your body again. it was almost comforting but it just wasn’t engulfing you like you needed. You needed a feeling to wash this all away. And sure the weed was helping but at the same time, it was still so soon. 

“(Y/n), I’m going to start now okay?” Maki said behind you. Her left arm was keeping you up and letting you lean onto her leg, her right hand is on your right side, making its way down your waist and she lightly places her hand on your butt. You don’t really mind this, until her fingers came close to your entrance. Your legs lightly moved closing together. “Hey,” You look up at Nobara, who was recording. “Please (y/n), let us help you.” 

You lower your gaze, looking away defeated, you slightly open your knees, letting Maki in but not wanting to. Her finger made itself known around your core, before she tapped you twice to let you know that she was going in. Her finger plunged into you slowly, just in and out. Your body shook with the sudden movement. “Sorry.” You both say. 

She digs in deep again but keeps her finger in, it was really weird honestly. This was your friend? And your other was also “helping”? But they seem so disgusted. You didn’t like this. You wanted them to praise you, you wanted them to think you were awesome and the best and super cool. Why was this so awful? Why was this so awkward and cruel? 

They switch, Nobara is taking her fingers out of you and you can feel it come out, while maki takes her now wet clothes off and positions the camera to help clean up your face. Nobara’s holding you up in the shower, digging her fingers as deeply as she could, but as gently too to not hurt you, or make you more uncomfortable than you already are. Maki comes back in, placing her hands on your hips, moving your wet hair from the nape of your neck. 

They know you don’t like small talk, and they had nothing to say. There was nothing to joke about, nothing to bring up or gossip about, no silly joke or new grand idea to tackle in the future. For once you all were stunned into the present, facing something that they can’t control the progress of. Nobara lifts her head up to look at you; If you did look back at her, then there was something worth saving, something she knew would still be a part of you is just waiting there, for this to all go away, and she was right. If you hadn’t looked, you were worse than dead’ according to your old beliefs. 

Nobara finishes feeling around inside, cleaning out her friend’s cum from your hole. The hot water was enough to wash most of it away, the slimy feeling was just something you almost couldn’t bring yourself to just scoop out.  Maki’s lightly circling the loofa around your back, avoiding the bruised spots until she can help it. Her touch was so nice you thought, but this was getting too much for you. 

She had her fingers spreading you open while the bubbles from your shoulders come down and create a soapy sight. 

The shorter girls eyes looked at you with despair, her older classman who would do anything by themselves is needing two of their closest friends to wash them after an assault. She thought she would see one of y’all die before a man could lay their hands on either of you. She pulls her hand away, wiping the slime onto her leg to get washed off. She just wanted to get you out of this haze, and didn’t know what else to do but lean forward, and gently start to kiss you.

You don’t know if it was from guilt of not being able to help, and this was her way of healing, maybe she liked you for a while and this is her chance or her feelings are overflowing after seeing such an event, but either way, Nobara Kugisaki, your underclassman of a year was semi naked and wet, kissing you in the shower. 

Maki on the other hand, was trying to keep you both up. She noticed Nobara trying to soothe you since they had to invade your space, and she let her hand go back down. Using two fingers to search for any remains of Yuuji/Sukuna in you, she wipes away the last bits she found and let it run. She was about to stop when Nobara’s hand shot out and grabbed Maki. Her eyes told her to go back to what she was doing before, saying how you were gasping while kissing Nobi. 

She wants you to actually feel good, and have your last orgasm be less traumatic, so they were gong to help you with that before bed. They weren’t going to let your rapist be the last person to touch you, much less be the last person you think about. They’re here for you, and they were going to help you cum.

Maki’s long fingers graced the line on your back before tracing the sides of your hips. Your lips were still locked with Nobara’s your hands finding energy enough to cup at her face gingerly. You could feel her silently speaking to Maki and you didn’t care what was going on now. The weed was hitting, the steam from the shower was creating an even dizzier environment and your anxieties were washed away with the cum that stained you. 

Her steady pumping brought a blush to your face, not that your body was already red from the scorching hot water. You were honestly glad women were helping you as it would probably end u into a second panic if you were to have “woken up” in a scene like this. Her fingers were more than enough, and having to kiss your mutual friend altogether, semi to fully naked, all cramped up in this shower stall? The realization had you cum around maki’s fingers and groaning into Nobara’s mouth, they had to hold you up as your orgasm knocked out your knees from under you.

Maki wiggles her fingers, pressing on your sweet spot, drawing your orgasm to a crescendo as she soothes you by kissing the back of your neck. Nobi’s lightly kissing at your chest and collarbone, keeping u balanced and letting you ride out the feeling as long as they could keep it. As you shook in their arms, you panted out as the feeling started to fade, now being able to stand on your own. It’s been a few hours since you’ve found your head again, and it pained you to see your girls were crying. 

You con’t know if it was the whole time, but their eyes were red and pleading for your forgiveness. “I’m sorry.” They sob. “I’m so sorry.” 

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x you #x reader #dark jjk #tw #tw dark content #taaotjjk #taaottw #tw dark content jjk #maki zenin x reader #maki zenin #nobara kugisaki #jjk nobara #jujutsu kaisen nobara #nobamaki #jjk maki #maki x reader #maki x you #maki x nobara #nobara x reader #nobara x you #nobara x maki

[abyssalpriest]

#I have. A shit tonne to say on this song. About how it was one of the last songs in one of my ex's meditation playlists #And generally I get a little freaked out when I hear songs like that that he listened to but like... This one for some reason means so much #to me. It reminds me of sitting there - he'd lie in my body perfectly still not moving at all for like an hour - in the freezing cold room #bc we'd never use the heater and the window would be open 24/7 and the stars were just above our head #and I'm like............. This is........................ #This song is...... That recollection shouldn't be so comforting because in any other situation and in any other context those nights #and my ex forcing me to lie still to Try And Astral Project while he would be stopping me #And being stared at by thousands of eyes is horrific #But this song conjures something and means something and #IDK what the full reason is but this feels like connecting to Leviathan in those years. To get to the point. #I'm still not conscious of what he was talking about and I guess that's natural bc I wasn't conscious of it then but I know #what energy he's talking about like. I may not have known he as a Being was there but I remember it and it's this #Despair // #Energy #ramblings // #This feels like him back then. I feel like.... Some fucking part of me saw him there and some fucking part of me knew.... I guess that's #literally true but... Its so.... Blurry. #Actually no I think these are weird fucking astral memories bc I shouldn't have snapshots of Seeing him like what's in my head #blurry cryptid looking ass. Affectionately. Fuck. No that adds up because I already knew these years were me waking up more #and more in the fucking astral jfvzhshsjs holy shit no hold on wtf #What it feels like and looks like would align EXACTLY with brief barely conscious waking up out of my body and seeing him #and then passing out again - just heard him say I've come a long way I'LL TAKE THAT AS A YES #Fucking hell. Yeah it feels exactly how the astral feels goddamn. Just. Hi now I know who you are. Mr Hat Man #Leviathan // #Music #Spotify

[yanderefarm]

Can we please have more of yandere housewife the first one was so good 😭💜

yandere housewife part 2

cw; horror, possessive, creepy wife, cheating (implied from last time) a/n; haha sorry if u expected something cute or really sexy this is a direct follow up from the last one. maybe it'll get spicy again ;)

everyday seems to stretch, it feels like every movement takes a year. how did it become like this? how did you end up in this situation? everyday you sleep in his bed. you bathe in his shower. you eat at his table.

everyday you face the blood red eyes of that killer. the one you helped in disposing of a body, the one you slept with, the one you prompted to leave his husband. you stare at him as you eat food. you stare at him as he washes your back. you stare at him while you sleep.

its been a week of living like a corpse. a week of shambling from location to location with the ever adoring man right behind you. you never noticed before how muscular he was and now it felt like it was all you could see. sometimes you would see him in the kitchen cutting up food for you and you would run to the bathroom to empty your stomach. the horrific sight you saw that night seemed burned into your eyes and was willing to remind you at a moments notice.

but he didn't change. that sweet man you came to love was still pampering you. he let you lay in bed all day, cooked you dinner, helped you shower, washed your clothes. he took care of you. somehow it was even scarier that nothing changed. but still sometimes you could feel yourself fall into his sweet trap. you would lay your head in his lap and his fingers would run through your hair until every worry faded away. until it returned and you went back to being the living dead.

and then one night he asked. "why don't you ever touch me anymore?"

you looked at him sitting across the table from you and for the first time all night your eyes actually focused on him. he looked hurt. you looked at him and then down at your food, your mouth falling open with a thousand words left unspoken.

"why did you do it?" you finally managed to say.

"I thought you liked my chicken parm?"

"I-- I do."

"thats why i made it. because you like it."

despite being a nothing conversation it seemed to spark something in you. you looked at him again.

"would you cook me anything? even if you hated it?"

"of course i would."

"what if you were allergic?"

"I would eat it if you asked."

"what if I wanted to eat people?"

he paused and his head tilted, his lovely hair falling over his shoulder. "do you want to?"

you reached for your glass of water and took a drink, your heart was pounding in your chest. it seemed like you let that question hang in the air too long because he was once again speaking as he poked at his own food with a fork.

"so why don't you?"

"ah-? sorry?"

"why don't you touch me anymore?"

you took another drink, you felt like you had walked in the desert for 40 years.

"i'm not feeling well."

"do you not like me anymore?"

"i didn't say that. really, i don't feel well-"

"you sound like my ex-husband."

#top male reader #dom male reader #male reader #sub yandere #yandere ideas #yandere x male reader #yandere housewife #yandere oc

[reinerispretty]

your friend's boyfriend's best friend

(a reiner braun x reader modern au)

i've had this on ao3 for a bit but i wanted to make things more easily accessible for people on here! so first chapters of my fics will be posted to this account and if you'd like to continue reading, the link to the full fic on ao3 will be available at the bottom :)

SUMMARY:

Fresh out of a long-term relationship, you now need a place to live. Enter Reiner Braun, the timid, busy, and devastatingly attractive best friend of your friend's boyfriend. He's got a room to spare and doesn't mind cats, so you leap at the offer. Still healing and figuring yourself out, you're absolutely, positively, one-thousand percent certain nothing will happen between the two of you.

It all starts with you breaking up with Jean.

Well, ask any of your friends and they’ll say it was mutual, because that’s what you tell them. And maybe that’s what Jean thinks, too, and that’s fine for him and his healing process, but that isn’t the case. You were the one that broached the topic, that realized spending life with him was less like living with your soulmate and more like having a roommate (that you frequently had sex with). There never seemed to be anything to talk about anymore, and the two of you used to talk about everything . You both became complacent. 

Plus, you aren’t an idiot. You know that love changes overtime, that things don’t always have to be as exciting as they used to be. That’s why you spent a few months putting a lot of thought into it, just to make sure. What you found was that the two of you weren’t quite looking at each other like you used to. That you weren’t excited to come home and tell him about your day, but rather indifferent. That you didn’t wake up in the middle of the night, look over, and think about how much you loved him.

So you broke up with Jean. And truthfully, it went easier than you expected. Once you voiced your concerns, he’d realized he’d been feeling similarly. Which sort of made you sad, but you digress.

(There’s also the matter of him almost definitely being in love with your best friend. But that’s a topic to be broached at a later date.)

So Jean sends out emails to get your name taken off the lease and you’re frantically texting everyone you know, asking if they have a couch you can crash on (and a garage to put everything in). He’s offered to let you stay, because he’s kind and would never put you (or your cat Toast) out on the street, but you’d rather die than do that. It would only make things weirder. After all, you’re adamant to maintain a friendship with him. He was your friend before you started dating, and a rather good one at that, so you’ll do anything you can to keep your breakup resentment-free. And crashing at your ex’s place when you aren’t having crazy toxic make-up sex is incredibly embarrassing. To you, at least. 

Eren lets you crash at his and Armin’s place for a few nights, but their pull-out couch isn’t a permanent solution. Out of the roughly fifty-million texts you send, only one person responds saying they know of someone who’s renting a room. You don’t think Annie Leonhart has ever been considered an angel, but she’s your angel for telling you about her boyfriend’s best friend who is looking for a roommate. 

You meet up for coffee to talk about it. Your freshman year of college the two of you had been placed together randomly, and you’d gotten along well enough that neither of you felt the need to room with anyone else. She’s clean, quiet, and horrifically honest, so if she doesn’t think this place is the right fit for you, she’ll let you know. 

“I think you’ll get along,” She says as she sips her matcha. You stare at her with wide eyes. You didn’t actually expect those words to come out of her mouth. Annie’s standards are as high as a skyscraper. “Reiner’s low maintenance.” 

“You make him sound like a pet,” You say, and Annie hums, pinching off a piece of your blueberry muffin.

“Not unlike it. He sticks to a very strict routine. Eats all three meals at the same time every day. I’m sure if you left out a treat or toy for him every once in a while, he’d appreciate it.” 

You roll your eyes, tapping your fingers against your coffee cup. “How long has Bert known him?” 

Bertholdt is Annie’s boyfriend. He’s the tallest person you’ve ever seen. Upon meeting him, you’d told her to “climb him like a tree.” She’d listened.

You like Bertholdt for her. He makes her soft, in a good way. He looks at her like the stars are in her eyes. 

“Since we were kids.” 

“Do you know him?” 

“Barely.” 

“What’s he like?” 

“He’s nice. Little bit of a meathead sometimes. He goes to the gym a lot but he isn’t that annoying about it.” 

You smile at what Annie deems appropriate to note. “So he isn’t a creep?” 

She glares at you, but it’s friendly. You’d know, you’ve been on the receiving end of her not-so-friendly glares plenty of times. “I wouldn’t let you stay with a creep.” She takes another piece of your blueberry muffin as penance. “He used to live with Marcel, but then Marcel fucked off to go study plants in Australia, so his younger brother moved in to help Reiner with the rent.” Annie sighs. “Everyone knew that wouldn’t last long.” 

“Why?” 

“Porco and Reiner have never gotten along. I don’t know why they thought it was a good idea to live together.” You’re trying to keep up with all the names. You and Annie come from separate hometowns, not to mention she’s an inherently private person, so the only people you really know from her life are her dad and Bertholdt. “This is all to say that Reiner needs someone else to help cover the rent.” 

You sip your coffee, bracing yourself to ask the question that’s been on your mind ever since you found out about this Reiner Braun . “Is he up for living with a girl?”

Annie raises a lazy eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t he be?” 

“Well, I don’t know. Some people get weird about it. Like, they think it’s gonna stop them from hooking up with people or something.” The last thing you want is some crazy person banging down your door.

“I’ve already told him a little about you. He’s fine with it.” 

It feels like a thousand pounds have been lifted off your chest. Smiling brightly, you say, “Alright, deal!” 

Moving in with Reiner doesn’t go how moving in is supposed to go. You don’t visit the property first and make sure it’s all up to snuff before signing the lease. You haven’t even met Reiner to see if he’s a good match as a roommate. The most you’ve spoken to him are a few texts from when Annie gave you his number to discuss move-in related things. He’s a very straightforward texter, ending his sentences in periods that make you think he’s mad at you. 

“So you don’t even know who this guy is?” Eren asks as his fingers drum against the steering wheel to the beat of the song playing through the speakers. Although he’d snatched up the aux, he’d played one of your playlists, something with a lot of emo throwbacks. (He’s always playing your music because he’s too lazy to go hunting for songs of his own.) When you’d requested help moving out, he’d leapt at the offer and volunteered his brother’s truck so you wouldn’t have to rent one. Eren’s been a great friend to you during the breakup, but you think it’s largely because of how much he despises Jean. You think they would be great friends if Eren wasn’t such an asshole most of the time. 

“Never met him,” You confirm. “But he’s friends with Annie and Bertholdt, so I’m not worried. Plus I stalked him on the internet to make sure he wasn’t a psycho.” 

“What if he is a psycho and is just really good at hiding it?” 

“Hmm,” You pretend to consider. “I guess I’ll just die.” The look Eren gives you is full of annoyance. You know he’s worried about you. He’s so protective over all his friends. “Would it make you feel better if you met him? He won’t be there but he said he’d be back sometime this evening.”

“Will you buy dinner?” 

“If you’re asking me to thank you for your services in food rather than actual money, then yes.” 

Eren thinks for a moment as he pulls down the street– your new street. “Yeah, I’ll stay. Make sure his gym bag isn’t full of chopped up body parts.” And you roll your eyes.

Your GPS alerts your arrival as Eren slows to a stop in front of the house. It’s a split level with pale blue siding and grey shutters. It sticks out like a sore thumb among the mini-mansions in the neighborhood.

Eren backs into the driveway to make it easier to unload everything. As he unties the bungee cords that keep all of your things contained, you head to the planter where Reiner said he’d leave the spare key. Your key, now. You find it just barely covered by dirt and unlock the door to your new home.

It’s always strange walking into someone’s home and finding out what it smells like. Reiner’s house doesn’t smell bad, just different from what you’re used to. It smells older, and like that one cinnamon apple Walmart candle boys always buy to cover any unappealing scents.

You give everything a once-over as you try to locate your room. You think it could use a dusting, but otherwise it looks relatively clean. By your standards, anyway. 

Your room is in the upstairs half of the house, to the right and down the hall. There’s a bathroom on your way, as well as a few other doors you’ll have to explore later. You push open your bedroom door and are relieved to find it’s spacious and in good shape. Reiner had sent you a few pictures of the place, but he hadn’t taken the right angles and you were too nervous to ask for them. 

Running back outside, you start helping Eren carry your things in. You start with the big stuff, like your desk and bookshelf. It’s awkward, maneuvering those things up the steps, but the two of you make it work.

Your cat, Toast, meows unhappily from inside his carrier as you move smaller boxes into your room. You don’t want to risk him running through the door as you unload your things, so he must remain contained for the time being. As you set down a box of your books, you give him a scratch between his ears through the carrier bars. “Just a little longer!” You promise.

By the time you’re done, the sun hangs low in the sky, and you still don’t have a bed. Eren leaves to pick up your bedframe and mattress from Ikea so you can get Toast’s things set up. You want to keep him in your room, just while he adjusts to a new home. He’ll be sad when he figures out Jean isn’t here, and you’d rather he not tear up the furniture of the nice man who lets the two of you stay here. 

You set up his litterbox, his water fountain and food dishes, and his cat trees in your room. Once that’s all done, you undo his carrier lock and let him roam free. Toast bumps into your hand immediately before carefully exploring every inch of your new room. 

You’re grateful Reiner’s been so accommodating, but you wonder if part of him feels like he has to be because you’re his best friend’s girlfriend’s friend. When you texted him asking whether or not it was alright to have Toast, he’d said, “ That’s fine. ” You don’t think that sounds like someone who’s thrilled to have animals in their home. 

The screen door slams shut and you assume it’s Eren. Hopping to your feet, you carefully slide out of your room and shut Toast in. You call out as you walk down the hall, “I was thinking of pizza for tonight, but I know you said you wanted to try that new Thai place–” You round the corner and find who you can only assume is Reiner coming up the stairs.

He’s tall, much taller than you or Eren, and for some reason you hadn’t anticipated that from the grainy picture of him Annie sent. You suppose you should’ve known, considering Bertholdt had been standing at his side, and he was still a few inches taller than Reiner. He’s also, unfortunately, much more attractive than you’d been expecting. (The picture was taken at a wedding reception, so both Bertholdt and Reiner were incredibly sweaty looking.) 

Annie’s gym bro assessment of him had been accurate. He’s broad and obviously muscular, if the way his button-up grips his biceps is any indication. He’s blond, with light eyes, and some stubble along his jawline. Reiner is handsome .

(Later, you’d hiss at Annie from the privacy of your bedroom, “You didn’t tell me he was hot!” )

Your face burns as you realize a lot of seconds have passed and you’ve just been standing there, silently ogling him. “Oh! Hi! I’m (Y/N).” You extend your hand and he drops his laptop bag at the top of the steps to shake it. 

“Nice to finally meet you in person. I’m Reiner.” 

Meeting new people is awkward enough without the added stress of them being nice to look at. You clear your throat. “Sorry, I thought you were my friend. He ran out to pick up my bed frame for me and I promised him I’d order us dinner.” 

“I’ve tried that new Thai place,” Reiner says. “It’s good.” 

You nod again. What are you, a bobblehead? “I’ll let him know it has at least one solid review. Would you, um, would you want me to order you anything? As a thank you for letting me stay here?” 

Reiner smiles. “No, it’s alright. I’m actually gonna head to the gym in a bit. Thanks, though.” 

You stop yourself from nodding again. Right, strict routine. “Okay, well, once I’m more settled in, I’ll definitely be baking you something to let you know how much I appreciate it.” 

“You really don’t have to. I mean, you’re helping me out, too.” You wave a hand. 

“Barely.” He’s saved you from the embarrassment of crashing with your ex for god knows long until you find a place of your own. Or worse, moving back in with your mother. You think you might owe him for the rest of your life.

The truck rumbles into the driveway and you’ve never been more grateful for Eren’s timing, because it’s either you keep standing here nodding like an idiot or retreat to your room. “That’s him!” You say, and Reiner moves out of your way so you can get down the stairs. 

“They brought out the wrong order like three fucking times,” Eren grumbles as he hops out of the truck. “I had to physically write your name down for them to find you.” 

You smile at him and say in a sing-song voice, “Thanks, Eren!” 

“Whatever,” Your friend says. “Let’s get this over with. I’m starving.” 

“Reiner said that new Thai place you’ve been wanting to try is good,” You tell him as he undoes the truck bed door. Eren’s eyebrows raise.” 

“He’s here?” You nod. 

“Got back a few minutes ago. I was so embarrassed, I thought it was you coming in. I offered to buy him dinner too, but he’s heading to the gym.” 

Eren clicks his tongue. “You’ve gotta stop offering handouts.” 

“You’re so dramatic. Buying food isn’t going to make me go bankrupt.” 

“You guys need any help?” Reiner’s voice is right behind you. You yelp, hand flying to your chest as your heart pounds against it. Eren snickers as your face heats up.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Eren says, just as you’re winding up to tell him it isn’t necessary. “This one has noodles for arms.” 

“I do not , you just walk too fast!” Huffing, you turn to Reiner. “This is Eren. Eren, this is Reiner.” 

“Nice to meet you.” Reiner moves around the truck to help him pull out the boxes that hold your bed frame pieces and mattress. 

“You really don’t have to,” You say. “I don’t want to keep you from your plans.” Eren gives you a look that says, Let the big strong man do the work for you, idiot. 

Reiner shrugs. “It won’t take long,” He assures. 

“Why don’t you go inside and get Toast out of the way so we can bring this in?” Eren suggests. You narrow your eyes at him, feeling as though you’re being dismissed. 

“I can’t decide if this is anti-feminist or very feminist. But fine. Don’t break my shit, Jaeger.” 

You prop the door open and scoop Toast into your arms to keep him from tripping the guys. You try to keep yourself busy so you don’t look completely useless (and so you don’t stare at the way Reiner’s arms move when he brings in your bed frame and mattress. Instead you choose to find setting up your internet to be the most interesting thing in the world.)

“Thanks so much, Reiner,” You tell him as he leaves your room. He gives you a smile over his shoulder. 

“Not a problem. Make yourself at home.” With that, he leaves the house entirely, and you shut your door so you can set Toast down. When you turn, you find Eren glaring at you.

“What, I don’t get any thanks?” He asks, wiping sweat from his forehead.

The two of you decide to take a break to order food from the Thai restaurant. Once it’s delivered, you’re hesitant to sit down at the kitchen table and eat. Eren, however, is not as he yanks a chair back and tears into the take-out bag.

“It’s your house too,” He reminds you. Carefully, you sit. 

“I know, I just don’t know if he has any rules or specific ways he wants things done.” 

Eren looks at you like you’re stupid. “Rules about eating at a table?” 

“I know I’m being ridiculous,” You mumble. “But I just want to be as little of a nuisance as possible.” 

“Did Jean make you feel like that?” You’re surprised he asks this. He’s been very good about not not bringing up Jean all day, but you suppose he just wants to make sure your ex never made you feel less-than. You don’t doubt that if he had any actual reason, Eren wouldn’t think twice about beating the actual fuck out of Jean. 

“No, not at all,” And that’s the truth. “Living with Jean was easy. I just know it’s not always going to be like that with other people.” 

Eren grunts as he starts digging into his food. “If I had a room to spare, you know you’d be living with me right now.” 

You smile at him. “I know. Thanks.” 

Your day with Eren is far from over, because once you’re both done eating and you’ve rested for a proper amount of time, he helps you build your bed. You’d insisted you could do it on your own and he hadn’t believed you, which you’re grateful for, because the wooden pieces are excruciatingly heavy. The entire process puts a strain on your friendship. You even have to Facetime Armin to settle an argument about measurements, but by the end of it you’re both laughing as you try your best to get the fitted sheet on your mattress. 

Eren takes you back to Jean’s, where you’d left your car that morning. You start to feel oddly emotional. You aren’t sure if it’s because you’re leaving for good, or if it’s because you’re gearing up for the first night by yourself in a long time. 

“Call me if you need anything,” He tells you as he walks to your car door. 

“Yes, Mom,” You press the unlock button, but before you can get in Eren gives you one of his rare hugs. 

You’ve known him since you were itty-bitty, having first met when the two of you were in diapers at some Mommy and Me class. Your mothers became fast friends, which meant that as toddlers and kids, you were always together. You don’t think there’s a single childhood photo of yours that doesn’t have Eren somewhere in it. 

But then his mom died, and your parents divorced, and instead of working through all of that together, you grew apart. You were a reminder of every moment you’d shared with his mother, and thus you magnified her absence. And you shut down, because your father moved out and your mother started her long trail of shitty boyfriends and the one person you wanted to comfort you was dead. You don’t think there’s a word for acquaintances that know each other like the back of their palm, but all throughout high school the two of you passed in the hallways as if you didn’t have a decade of history. 

Fate decided it had enough of this at the start of your freshman year of college when it placed you in a room right across from Eren’s. You both felt like you were little fish in big ponds, and although your friendship started again for the sake of convenience, you stayed friends because you cared about each other. 

You hug him back and try hard not to cry. 

Reiner’s still out when you get home, so you turn on music and finish unpacking your necessities. There are still a lot of things you need to buy for yourself. You hadn’t realized how much of the furniture was Jean’s. You’re using stacked shoe boxes as a nightstand. 

The one thing you’re happy about in all of this is that for the first time in your life, you have your own bathroom. You clean it because it makes you feel better if you’ve wiped things down yourself, and then fill it with your toiletries. Once you’re done, you take a well-deserved shower and wash the sweat from your hair and body.

Drying off, you wrap a towel around yourself and head back to your room. You’re surprised to find Reiner in the hall as well, hanging his jacket in the coat closet. The two of you both stare at each other, wide-eyed and keenly aware that you’re a single piece of fabric away from being naked . Face hot, you turn on your heel and walk quickly into your bedroom. 

You’ll have to buy a robe.

liked the first chapter? keep reading here!

#writing #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun #aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan x reader #eren jaeger #jean kirstein

[kendsleyauthor]

I really like your new ocs- 5 for Godlike?

RELUCTANT GIANT

Godlike Universe (Brielle, Cameron, Nikolas)

~1200 words

G/t dialogue prompt list

Thank you for the prompt!! This is a continuation of DEITY OF IDIOTS 🍂

Brielle struggles to calm down a newly-giant Cameron. Their predicament escalates when Nikolas crosses their path.

@marydublinauthor 🌸

Brielle tried to give Cameron some grace and not compare his handling skills to those of Nikolas. After all, Nikolas had hundreds—if not thousands—of years to be accustomed to his towering height. Cameron had less than ten minutes of experience being a giant, and the fact that he hadn’t dropped her was success enough.

How can this not be a dream? she wondered.

Whenever she peeked up, she fully expected to find that she was actually in Nikolas’ hands, and that she had dozed off on his palm with Cameron by her side. But alas, it was Cameron’s face that hung overhead each time she looked. Not that she particularly minded the view.

“Are you in pain at all?” she asked, noticing that the pinch in his brow hadn’t eased. “From the transformation?”

“Not at all.” And she believed him. The anxiety of the situation was more than enough to keep a frown in place.

“I’m sure it’ll be alright,” she said, though her own thudding heart hadn’t relaxed. 

“What if this is permanent? What’ll I do, Bri? I don’t…”

His steps in the direction of the Autumn Manor slowed to a stop, which was a relief seeing as his hurried pace made her stomach churn. He lifted her a bit higher, his impossibly large gaze rife with worry. His rapid pulse pounded against her legs, and she wanted nothing more than to draw him close and comfort him.

There was no time to coax him into bringing her closer.

Nikolas’ stunned voice came somewhere from behind them. “Who—”

Cameron turned abruptly to the side, making Brielle squeal in terror as she was tossed onto her side in his palm, half-falling. As she kicked her legs to heave herself back to safety, Nikolas’ eyes landed on her—presumably not getting a good look at Cameron, given his reaction. She spotted the precise moment that a fire entered Nikolas’ gaze.

“Bri!” Nikolas lunged toward them with horrific speed, and the world became dark and cramped before Brielle could see him close the distance.

A pained cry flew past her lips as the confines of Cameron’s grasp tightened—any further, and he would surely break something. Raised voices rumbled outside of her prison, but she couldn’t focus on the words as she struggled to move, struggled to breathe. She could so much as open her mouth or thrash a single limb to get Cameron’s attention.

Nikolas’ voice became clearer. “—hurting her!”

Relief flooded through her when Cameron’s fingers sprang open. She gasped for breath in his palm. The light seemed harsh compared to the darkness of his hands, but as her vision adjusted, she was greeted by two massive faces staring down at her in alarm. Camer looked beside himself.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he breathed. “I-I was startled, and I was trying to…” He lifted her higher, staring hard in search of injury. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not hurt,” she assured, though she doubted her breathless voice was convincing. She suspected she’d awaken with soreness tomorrow morning, but she certainly wasn’t going to inform him of that. She frowned at Nikolas, smoothing her skirt. “Well, it’s enlightening to see that your penchant for slightly overreacting hasn’t abandoned us.”

Nikolas looked thoroughly offended. “You were in distress in the hands of a person I had never seen before. I reacted appropriately, thank you very much.” His eyes slid up from her to regard Cameron, a little smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. “You ate the fruit. Are mortals ever not predictable.”

Cameron’s fingers twitched closer to Brielle in frustration. “You knew there were such things out there? And you didn’t think to warn us—”

“Cam!” Brielle pushed at his index fingertip. “You’re shaking again.”

Remorse swiftly replaced Cameron’s annoyance. “I’m sorry. I’ll try—”

“Here, I’ll take her.” Nikolas raised a hand and offered it beside Cameron’s.

She worried for a second that Cameron might flinch at the approach or try to hide her again, but clearly he was willing to say goodbye to the stress of holding her life in his hands. Nonetheless, the conflict on his face was plain to see—her knight, handing her off willingly. Her heart melted slightly at the realization of how much he had come to trust Nikolas, exasperated with him as he was at the moment.

Carefully, Brielle moved from one palm to the other. The difference was immediate—the steadiness, the surety. She tried not to make her relief too obvious, lest Cameron see it. Falling to a seat, she willed her heart to stop fluttering as she looked up between the two giant men. 

“The fruit?” she prompted.

“Ah, yes. You see, I didn’t think there were any more left in the forest. They take hundreds of years to grow, and I stopped cultivating them long ago. The fruit is produced from plant life that has absorbed my blood.”

Cameron pulled a face, as though this information added a new flavor to the fruit he’d readily eaten. “How delightful,” he deadpanned.

“I try not to bleed in the forest these days,” Nikolas said with a shrug. “But for the fruit to exist now, it must have occurred centuries ago.”

“And you say you used to cultivate them,” Brielle asked. “Whyever would you do that?”

“A different era,” he said with a dismissive wave of his free hand. “Mortals who gained favor with my siblings or myself would occasionally be gifted such a fruit. We eventually agreed it was far more trouble than it was worth.”

Brielle’s blood ran cold with the thought of what a person would want with the gift of being deity-sized. At least Cameron was a reluctant giant rather than an arrogant or vengeful one—even if he did decide that snatching her up was the wisest course of action upon waking up at this size.

“So, it must be temporary,” Cameron said a little desperately. “A temporary gift?”

“Of course.” Nikolas seemed to latch to Cameron’s tone, stepping closer with intrigue. Brielle found herself having to crane her neck more to keep either of them in view. Nikolas brushed a curious hand against Cameron’s cheek. “By morning, you’ll be back to your adorably petite self.”

Though he scowled, he didn’t push away Nikolas’ touch. “You realize I am taller than you?” They already knew that from all the time Nikolas spent at human height, but Brielle was certain they could all agree that this situation was… different.

Nikolas’ fingers trailed lower to take Cameron’s chin and turn his face this way and that at his leisure. “You can pout all you want,” Nikolas said, his voice dropping lower. “Deep down, part of you must be enjoying this.” With that, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Cameron’s lips, holding Brielle in perfect view.

The tension in Cameron’s face eased immediately as he kissed Nikolas back. Brielle found her perch wobbling dangerously as Cameron leaned in with more fervor. She clutched Nikolas’ thumb, but didn’t speak a word of protest.

When they stopped and pulled away, faces still a breath from each other, Brielle let out a pent-up shudder of a breath. Both giants turned to her—Nikolas enthralled and Cameron flushing. She stared, slack-jawed and almost lightheaded with giddiness. “Might you do that again?” she all but whispered.

#gt #g/t #gt writing #g/t writing #gt community #g/t community #my writing #size difference #giant tiny #giant #tiny #gt fandom #g/t fandom #oc: brielle #oc: cameron #oc: nikolas #gt story #g/t story #godlike universe #godlike universe story

[quack-quack-snacks]

All In - Chapter 2: The Beach

| Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 |

The All In Masterlist

My Alice In Borderland Masterlist

My Navigation and Masterlist

My Chishiya Shuntaro Masterlist

Warnings: Non-important character deaths, descriptions of blood and gore, Niragi being a perv but a consensual and non-boundary crosser perv, let me know if there are any more. Word Count: 7,175

“All in.”

His grin grew to the point you thought his face would split in half. He started giggling, obviously crazed by the trauma of this world.

Or maybe he was crazy before it.

“ALL PLAYERS PARTICIPATING IN THIS ROUND HAVE GONE ALL IN.

IN THE CASE OF THIS HAPPENING, THERE WILL BE A BONUS FOR THE WINNER.”

Now this piqued your interest. 

“THE WINNER WILL BE GIVEN A BONUS OF $500 FOR THEIR BRAVERY.”

There were shouts of protest from each of the players.

“That’s not fair!”

“What the fuck?”

You drowned them all out, noticing that once again, Chishiya Shuntaro did not join them in their complaints. Instead, he was staring at you with a blank look, one you couldn’t quite decipher. It almost felt like he was… analyzing you.

“ALL HANDS WILL BE REVEALED NOW.”

The sight of his hand made a small giggle slip through your lips. The giggle slowly grew louder and louder until you were laughing loudly. Fujita stayed still as he ran his eyes over each of your hands, trying to figure out how he could’ve possibly lost. 

He’d gotten dealt the Two of Diamonds and the Two of Clubs. 

The hand in the center was the Ten of Diamonds, the Two of Spades, the King of Diamonds, the Jack of Diamonds, and the Two of Hearts.

He’d gotten a Four Of A Kind.

It was unfortunate for him that you just got something better. 

“The Queen of Diamonds and the Ace of Diamonds?” You heard Chishiya let out a low whistle. “That’s a Royal Flush.”

“No!” Fujita screamed, slamming his fists down onto the table in a fit of rage. He quickly reached down into his pocket, grabbed something, and pulled it out. Your eyes widened in surprise when you realized it was a gun. “If I’m going down, then you’re coming with me!” He screamed at you, placing his finger on the trigger. 

A shot.

A laser.

The sound of a head thumping onto the table, deceased. 

You laughed. 

“Well fuck!” You said quietly, laughing breathlessly at the rush of adrenaline that shot through you. You hardly flinched at him pulling the trigger but it was a shock nonetheless. 

“ATTEMPTING TO KILL YOUR OPPONENTS BEFORE THE END OF THE GAME WILL RESULT IN A GAME OVER.

A PLAYER HAS REACHED BANKRUPTCY. IT IS NOW GAME OVER FOR THEM.”

You all watched as the corpse of Hirose Fujita’s chest started to cave in on itself underneath the pressure of the metal pole surrounding him, his ribs breaking and sticking out through his skin while blood splattered across the tablet in front of him. 

The sight caused a panic.

Many screamed. One person stayed still in their seat, hyperventilating and silent tears falling down their cheeks. Two started having panic attacks, trying their hardest to escape the bonds of the chair but to no avail. 

The girl to your left turned to the side of her chair, throwing up at the purely atrocious scene. 

You winced in disgust at the sight of his perishment, but other than the scrunch of your nose, you didn’t show any other sign of being disturbed. Your stomach had grown strong over the weeks you’d spent in the borderland. It was a necessary adaptation you needed to make if you wanted to survive and get through all the horrific sights you’d seen. Looking to the side at the back of your chair, you eyed the hole in the material. The shot had somehow - with some crazy, mysterious luck granted to you by the goddess of luck herself, Tyche - only barely missed anywhere vital.

The voice went on to announce that you’d won and scored the bonus $500 along with the $430 that was in the pot. 

Your balance was now over a thousand. 

As the voice continued on speaking, introducing the 6th round and who was going first, you brought a hand up to your left cheek. When you brought it away, there was thick red blood coating your fingertips and falling down your face from the bullet. You didn’t worry too much. If it was anything too serious, you would have been bleeding a whole lot more, that’s for sure. You decided you would just wait until the end of the game to try and do anything to solve it, occasionally rubbing the blood away with the sleeve of your jacket, not wanting the dress you were wearing to be ruined just yet. You failed to see how Chishiya’s eyes narrowed in on the wound. 

The next round passed. You’d folded after the first person placed their bet, your cards not being too great.

It totally wasn’t also because the person who placed the bet was the eye-catching man named Chishiya.

That would be crazy. 

Unsurprisingly, he won the round. One player, Akagi Tennen, started crying, his balance dropping down to $30 as Chishiya came out victorious with his balance rising to over $200. 

Round after round, the players died off until there were only four left. 

Sada Yuka. 

Oishi Kaori.

Chishiya Shuntaro.

And you. 

Your score had gone down to $860 while Chishiya’s had raised to $830. 

Each girl was shaking in their seat. The metal bar was compressed tightly around them, enough so that it obviously was uncomfortable and maybe slightly painful, but not as painful as it would be when they lost the remaining $5 in their balances. 

Your heart hurt in your chest as you watched them reach for each other’s hands desperately. Yuka tried to be strong in front of her friend but it was obvious she was having a hard time as tears gathered along her waterline. Kaori’s tears streamed down her cheeks like waterfalls, unable to control her sobs. 

It painfully reminded you of the friendship you had with your best friend, especially when the two of you were children.

It was the first day of first grade, and you were nervously shuffling on your feet while standing in front of the school entrance. Your mother stood next to you, but the knowledge that she would leave when you entered the building had your five-year-old stomach turning. 

She kneeled down beside you so she was at your level before caressing your hair lovingly. “Are you ready, sweetie?” She asked you. You gripped the straps of your backpack nervously before hesitantly nodding. She softly smiled before bringing you into a much-needed hug. It wasn’t surprising that she could tell you were only saying that for her sake; you weren’t the best at hiding your feelings just yet. “I’m so proud of you. You’re going to do amazing, I just know it. I’ll pick you up as soon as school ends, okay?”

“Okay, mama,” you agreed and she let you go, giving you a light nudge toward the door. 

Ten minutes later, you were sitting in the second row of your class. The teacher stood in front of a whiteboard, wearing an ankle-length skirt made of different colored patches. On top, she wore a simple black turtleneck with some silver jewelry. 

She turned around, writing her name on the board. You couldn’t read it, not really having learned to read yet, and you were thankful when she repeated the name she wrote. 

“Hi everyone!” She started in a cheery tone and a big smile. Her ginger-dyed hair with brown roots just barely visible as they grew out framed her face gorgeously and you couldn’t help but marvel at her beauty. “Welcome to your first day in my class and congratulations on being in first grade! I will be your teacher for the rest of the year. My name is Ms. Hirayama,” she told you before cupping her hand around her mouth like she was telling you a secret. “But you all can just call me Rin!” She winked. “Today, we will be learning the alphabet. Does anyone know the first letter?”

A few hands rose but you lost focus when you saw the boy sitting next to you. He was sitting with a notebook in front of him, not focusing on the lesson as he drew a stick figure picture of three people and a dog in front of a wonky, crooked house. You watched him for a while longer before suddenly, your teacher stopped talking. 

“Kids, would you mind paying attention and saving your drawing for when we have a break?” She asked kindly, looking between the boy next to you and yourself. You both nodded, the boy putting his pencil down and nodding as well. She smiled and returned to reading through the alphabet. 

You turned and leaned over your desk so you were closer to the boy. “I like your drawing,” you whispered. He blushed in embarrassment at you seeing it but smiled nonetheless. 

“Thank you.”

You introduced yourself, sticking a hand out for him to shake. He grabbed it, his grip hesitant and soft. 

“I’m Aoki Dai. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too!”

“Kids!” The teacher raised her voice a little bit to get your attention. The both of you snapped back to be sitting up ultra-straight in your chairs and apologized simultaneously.

“Sorry.”

You and Aoki had become attached at the hip since that moment, only ever apart when you went home or were at a club of some sort that the other wasn’t involved in. Years later, when the both of you were in your second year of high school, you continued with those clubs. Aoki was in the school’s soccer club, doing well in team-based sports, while you enjoyed the chess club. You thrived on working alone. While you didn’t mind working with someone, you did your best when you worked alone. 

It was after school on a Tuesday and you walked toward the big oak tree in the front of the school where Aoki and you agreed to meet up every day after school before you’d walk home together. 

You were surprised to find your best friend with tears streaming down his cheeks, one of which was bruised black and blue. It was obvious the tears weren’t caused by the pain, however. 

Your gaze hardened and his eyes found yours. Just as his mouth opened to speak, presumably to say he was fine or some bullshit like that, you spoke first. “Who was it?”

“It’s fin-”

“Who. The hell. Was it?” You repeated, interrupting him with your harsh gaze and demanding words. 

He looked down in shame. “Ito Reina.”

That bitch. You knew exactly who he was talking about. She was on the soccer team with him and you would see her at every practice you sat in on or game you attended. You never liked her or her overly arrogant attitude just because she was the oldest on the team. She was a junior which she thought made her superior to everyone else. 

Your fists clenched before the sound of a familiar, infuriating laugh sounded from the entrance of the school. 

Aoki’s eyes widened as he saw the determination set in on your face, reaching out to stop you. “No, don’t-!”

It was too late. You’d already thrown your backpack down and started storming over to where Ito was walking with two of her, also arrogant and rude, friends. 

Her eyes fell on you when you got within a few yards of her and she rolled them. “Oh great. What do you wa-?”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence before your fist made contact with the side of her face. The girls beside her gasped loudly as she fell backward and onto the ground. You didn’t stop, jumping onto her and throwing a few more good hits in. When her friends tried to step in to help her, you elbowed one of them in the ribs and the other in the nose, leaving both of them crying in pain on the floor. After the fourth hit you gave her, you were satisfied with the bloody nose and bruising cheek she sported. 

You stood up, clenching and unclenching your fist to stop the stinging as the skin had split along your knuckles during your thrown punches. “So, here’s how this is going to go,” you started, crouching down in front of her and poking her throbbing cheek. “You’re going to apologize to my friend, Aoki, here, and then you’re going to leave him alone for the rest of your life. If I hear you’ve done anything like this again, I won’t stop at four,” you threatened calmly. She nodded fearfully, scared of the blank look in your eyes and on your face. After a few moments of her silence, you glared. “Well? I’m still waiting on that apology.”

She seemed to remember and frantically scrambled to her knees, kneeling in front of you and Aoki who stood a few feet behind you. 

“I’m sorry, Aoki Dai. I will never bother you again.”

You let out a satisfied hum before reaching to condescendingly pat the top of her head. “Good girl. Now get out of here before I change my mind about stopping at four hits.”

She clambered to stand, her two friends following closely behind her as they ran away from the two of you. 

When you turned around to face Aoki, he was staring at you with an amazed look and your backpack lightly clutched in his hands. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he breathed out, looking down at his feet in shame at the situation. He let out a gasp when he felt your arms wrap around his shoulders. 

“Yes, I did. You’re my best friend, Aoki. I’ll always be here to protect you,” you promised him.

And it was a promise you kept, protecting him for years and years from anything that threatened to hurt the boy you loved like a brother until you were ripped out of your life and ended up not seeing him for months. 

“ROUND TWENTY WILL BEGIN NOW.” 

The remaining money in the two girls’ balance was immediately used as their antis into the round. No matter what, one of them, if not both, was going to die this round. 

Taking a deep breath to control your emotions, you turned to face them, and their attention moved to you. Both eyes were fearful. Sad.

It broke your heart.

You gave them a forlorn smile. “It’s been an honor to play with the two of you. May the three of us be friends in the next life.”

Your words were enough to push Yuka over the edge as she started sobbing. 

“PLAYER SADA, YUKA, CHOOSE TO RAISE, CALL, OR FOLD.”

She had to swallow down her sobs long enough to speak before answering. “Call.”

Her voice was raw with pain, cracking at the end and she hung her head low. Her hand still desperately reaching for Kaori’s trying to comfort each other as they were sure they wouldn’t live through the game. 

The announcer went through each person’s turn. 

Nobody chose to raise the bet. 

It continued until all five cards were facing up in the center of the table. You sighed at the hand you were dealt. 

In the center of the table, the faceup cards were as such:

King of Clubs. Three of Hearts. Eight of Spades. Jack of Clubs. Eight of Diamonds.

You were dealt an Ace of Spades and an Eight of Hearts. 

Three of a kind.

“Fuck,” you whispered under your breath. 

“ALL HANDS WILL BE REVEALED NOW.”

Just as you suspected. You’d won.

Yuka’s hand was nothing. Two of Clubs and Four of Hearts. 

Kaori’s was a two-pair. Three of Diamonds and King of Clubs. 

Finally, Chishiya had a single pair. Seven of Diamonds and Seven of Spades. 

Winning wasn’t always fun.

“TWO PLAYERS HAVE REACHED BANKRUPTCY. IT IS NOW GAME OVER FOR THEM.”

You looked away, closing your eyes and trying to ignore the sobs. They screamed for a second as the metal bar closed in on them until everything went silent. You let out a little sigh, thankful their deaths were at least quick and hopefully not very painful. A small ding brought your attention to the phone you were given. 

“ONLY TWO PLAYERS REMAIN.

GAME CLEARED. CONGRATULATIONS.”

“Yay,” you said dryly. The metal poles surrounding you and Chishiya retracted, allowing the two of you to step out of your chairs and leave. 

Chishiya walked over to the body of his deceased companion. “Not so strong now,” he mocked the previous words the man told him earlier. Leaning down, he searched his pockets for the keys of the car they used to arrive at the game, finding them in the breast pocket of his blood-stained leather jacket. He tossed the keys into the air before catching them again with a smug but small smirk on his face. Just as he was about to speak, he turned to look at you and his words caught in his throat. You were pushing the chairs of the two girls together, panting at the exertion because of the heavyweight. It was when the two chairs were side by side, their armrests touching, that you stopped. You had a small, sad, smile on your face as you gently grabbed their hands, resting them on top of each other. 

“What’s that for?” Chishiya inquired. 

Without looking at him, you responded. “The last thing they wanted was to comfort each other. I thought they deserved to hold hands at the very least.”

Chishiya almost scoffed at the sudden personality switch from how you acted during the majority of the game versus now, not to mention how kind the switch was. How could you be so kind and considerate in the midst of a world like this one? In a world so selfish and uncaring about the lives of anyone or anything? It just didn’t make sense.

It intrigued him. 

Using your hands to close their wide, scared eyes and taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to look away from the girls and bring your thoughts away from the loneliness you felt with the lack of your best friend. Facing the boy in the white hoodie to see him already looking at you, you smoothed down your dress. “What?”

He stared at you for a few moments. The eye contact was intense as he studied you and you tilted your head in confusion at his silence. After a beat, he finally spoke. “Come with me.”

The confusion visibly grew on your face as you scrunched your eyebrows together. “What do you mean? Where?”

“The Beach,” he said simply before turning around and heading for the exit. 

“What? You’re going to the beach? Why?” You asked, reluctantly following behind him and watching as he grabbed the Six of Hearts card off the table on the way out. “We’re in the middle of Tokyo, there’s no beaches for miles.”

“Not the beach, Beach,” he clarified, and although it rang a bell in your mind, it still didn’t clear up your confusion.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” you told him and he rolled his eyes.

“It would if you were smarter,” he insulted and you slapped the back of his head instinctively - it was what you often did to Aoki when he would make a stupid comment. He stopped walking, turning to look at you, his eyebrows raised and his eyes set in a surprised yet slightly annoyed glare. You said nothing to explain your action, only crossing your arms over your chest and tilting your head with a cheeky smile. He sighed, turning back around and continuing his walk forward. “You’ll see when we get there.”

You just grinned to yourself as you skipped behind him. After a minute, an old, bright red Mustang appeared in your sights. It was parked poorly along the street in an area where it would most definitely be ticketed in the original Tokyo. It was beautiful and in very good condition. It was clear whoever the owner was - who you got the feel was not the bleach-blonde-haired boy leading you to the car - loved and cherished this car, keeping it as pristine as possible. “Why do you think I’ll trust you enough to get into a car with you?” You quizzed as the two of you got closer to the car with each step. 

“If you’re smart, you’ll know you shouldn’t,” he told you without missing a beat or faltering in his movements. You scoffed. 

“What’s with you and thinking I’m not smart?”

“Well, you haven’t done anything to prove otherwise,” he reasoned. 

‘Funny. It’s not like you’ve done anything to prove you’re trustworthy either,’ you thought. 

Once you reached the car, he stopped on the passenger’s side of the car - a fact that confused you considering he was the one who had the keys and you expected him to be the driver. It surprised you even more when he opened the door and held it open for you, leaning on it and gesturing for you to go in. 

You schooled your expression back into a teasing smirk. “Ooh. A gentleman and an asshole. You’re just my type,” you joked before your face dropped to a more serious one. “I still don’t trust you won’t kill me the moment I get in.”

“Would you feel better if I pinky promised?” He asked sarcastically, his voice remaining in the same monotonous tone he’d used the whole night. 

“It would, actually,” you told him, feigning being serious as you got into the car. “I guess I don’t have much to live for anyways,” you confessed. 

‘I’ve been sleeping on a couch in a clothing store for the past week anyway. If this ‘Beach’ place is a base of some sort then maybe I’ll finally have a more comfortable spot to rest,’ you thought to yourself.

Chishiya closed the door behind you, making sure you were fully in and your dress wouldn’t get caught before he did, then walked around to settle into the driver’s seat. 

When he turned the car on, the sound of an old song from the 60’s immediately started softly playing through the speakers. 

“How do you have music? I’ve not been able to make anything work since I arrived here,” you questioned, looking at him curiously. 

“Devices that have integrated circuits don’t work, though I don’t expect you to know what that is,” he insulted again, arrogantly. You just stayed quiet with a roll of your eyes as he continued. He pointed a finger at the cassette player that was a part of the car. “This car’s from the 1960s and has a cassette player; so if you have a cassette you can play music.”

‘The owner must have never used the car. It’s in almost perfect condition,’ you thought. 

The drive over was relatively quiet, the music not playing too loudly and neither of you speaking. You decided to hold off on any questions you had about this so-called ‘Beach’ for when you got there. You really weren’t in the mood to hear his condescending tone when you didn’t know the answer to something and he had to smugly explain it to you.

To be honest, though, you didn’t expect him to answer even if you did ask him.

When you arrived at Beach, you realized it was a modern hotel that had the word ‘Beach’ spray painted over the original sign called ‘Seaside Paradise | Tokyo.’ Once Chishiya parked, you got out of the car and followed him into the building. You could hear the distant sound of loud party music, but you ignored it in favor of watching Chishiya as he walked. Each stride was filled with such confidence and nonchalantness that it was hard to not find him intriguing. 

He led you further into the building until you reached an area protected by two strong-looking men who leaned against the walls. Although they looked like bodyguards, the sight of them clad in palm-tree-designed swimming trunks kind of lessened their intimidation. They looked alarmed at the two of your sudden appearances but one look at Chishiya was enough for them to relax again and allow him through.

You were not so lucky. One of the men roughly grabbed your shoulder when you tried to follow after him and pulled you back. 

“If you don’t take your hands off me within the next few seconds, you won’t be able to use them for the rest of your life,” you warned him but his grip just tightened around you as he attempted to drag you back. Within a second, you had his arm locked behind him and his chest pressed against the wall he was leaning against not even a minute prior. 

“She’s with me. She’s a newcomer,” Chishiya explained as the guard you had pressed against the wall groaned in pain. He stopped the other guard from intervening, not even turning around or slowing his steps like he expected them to stop you. The guard you had pressed against the wall stopped struggling and you slowly let him go. Giving the two men a charming smile, you followed the boy around the corner, nearly running into his back when he stopped abruptly. Examining the room, you noticed the dim lighting and the two leather couches facing each other. On one of those couches supported a familiar man with chin-length brown hair. He wore a thin bathrobe with a black backing and some patterns along the fabric. Underneath the bathrobe, you could see he was shirtless with only a pair of orange swimming trunks around his hips. He was sat with two girls who seemed to be in their mid-twenties on either side of him. One wore a black bathing suit with white polka dots decorating it while the other wore a hot pink bikini with ruffles. 

And the man currently had his tongue shoved down one of their throats. 

Chishiya cleared his throat to capture the attention of the man and after a few more seconds of making out with the girl, he pulled away. Leaning back against the seat, he manspread his legs as each girl cuddled up his side. 

“Ah! Chishiya, my boy! What brings you here?” The man expressed. 

He held up the Six of Hearts card in between two fingers before holding it out for the man to take. “I’ve also brought someone,” Chishiya explained, moving out of the way so you were more exposed to the man’s view. 

When his gaze fell on you, you saw the way his breath stalled in his lungs. It was similar to your reaction when first saw him only a few moments ago. 

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you! Your uncle’s talked a lot about you.”

“Well, that’s never a good sign.”

“Would you guys turn that shitty song off? You know I hate it.”

“Oh come on uncle! Stop your whining and come dance with us! ‘Hey, I just met you! And this is crazy!’”

“‘But here’s my number! So call me maybe!’”

“What made you want to open up a hat shop, Uncle Tak?”

“It was kind of a surprise decision. Some unfortunate events happened and I needed a job to keep me afloat for a while. It ended up sticking.”

“I think it’s cool. You’re like the mad hatter from Alice in Wonderland, minus the ‘mad’ part.”

“Maybe we should keep it as me being the hatter, that hat doesn’t fit you at all.”

Takeru swallowed subtly before turning back to Chishiya who eyed the two of you intensely. 

“I see,” he mused, his voice underlying with a certain tenseness, putting the card in the breast pocket of his robe. “I assume she is joining The Beach then, am I right?” Chishiya nodded, confirming his assumptions before walking over and leaning down to whisper something inaudible to you into his ear. The man looked at him with an impressed and moderately surprised look. Turning back to you, he grinned somewhat hesitantly. “Well then, have a seat,” he gestured to the couch in front of him and you snuck a glance at Chishiya before obliging and sitting down. “Everyone out. I’d like a moment alone with the newcomer,” Takeru commanded and everyone in the room stood up to leave, Chishiya being the last one. The two of you locked eyes as he walked past the couch and to the exit behind you. The look in his gaze was analytical, most likely of your poorly disguised relationship with his leader. 

You and Takeru stayed quiet as you waited for everyone to leave the room and for the door to close behind them. The moment the latch of the door sounded, he was out of his seat and rushing toward you. You stood up just in time for him to pull you into his comforting embrace. You felt unshed tears burning your eyes but held them back with a shaky breath, gripping onto him tighter. 

“I’m not happy you’re in this hellhole, but I’m glad you’re at least here,” he told you once the two of you pulled away. He sat next to you on the couch, pouring both of you a glass of bourbon and leaning back in the seat. 

“When did this whole thing start?” You asked him, gesturing to the room and hotel around you. 

“A few weeks after Aguni and I first arrived here. We set it up to give people hope of a better life while here.”

You paused mid-sip, turning to him with a hopeful yet fearful gleam in your eyes. “Mori's here?” You weren't sure if you were hoping you misheard him or praying you heard him right. 

He nodded, smiling at the nickname you gave your uncle, and you let out a shaky breath. “We arrived in this world together. Both of us were really worried when you were late to show up that day. It didn’t help that the apocalypse happened and you still weren’t there.”

“My alarm didn’t go off,” you weakly defended yourself and he gave you a small smile. 

“Well, besides that, Welcome to The Beach. It’s procedure for me to tell all newcomers the rules, so I’m just going to get that over with,” he told you and you nodded. “Rule number 1: You must always wear a swimsuit when you’re on the hotel grounds. It prevents anyone without permission from hiding weapons, specifically firearms,” he started and you nodded, marginally reluctantly but willing to get past the idea of constantly wearing a swimsuit if it meant a stable, consistent place to live. Bonus points if that place to live was with one of your uncles. Besides, you were positive you could come up with a creative way to make yourself more comfortable with the constant lack of clothing - something like a coverup would probably suffice. “Rule number 2: All cards belong to the Beach. As I’m sure you’ve noticed,” he continued and pat the pocket where the card Chishiya gave him was. 

“Okay, but why?” You questioned. 

He chuckled. “Well, that is a story for another day. Perhaps tomorrow I will call for you and explain more about that.”

“Sure, that sounds alright to me,” you approved before asking, “So, what’s the third rule?” 

He took another sip of his bourbon before replying. “Rule number three: Death to all traitors.”

Your eyes widened, taken aback by the morbidity of his statement.

“Wait- really?” You asked, and he nodded, his face devoid of any particular emotion. “Well shit, there goes my plans of burning the place down,” you joked sarcastically and he cracked a smile at your behavior. It was clear he missed your mannerisms just as much as you missed his. 

“It’s a good thing this world hasn’t taken your humor, I hoped it wouldn’t get gloomy. Also, I’m glad you took that rule well. The last recruit took the news rather… aggressively.”

You didn’t really want to know what that meant. 

“Well, I’ll let you get settled in. I’ll have someone show you to your room and we can reconvene tomorrow. Tonight, you can go to the bathing suit room so you can choose one or two there. We definitely don’t have any shortages of them. Then, tomorrow in the afternoon, I will have someone come for you and I'll introduce you to the executives,” he planned. You stood up and nodded, giving him a hug and walking toward the door with him. Just before you could open the door, he stopped you with a serious look. “Oh, and… don’t tell anyone your relations with Aguni and me,” he whispered. You nodded in understanding and he smiled at you. He swung the door open and then gave a quick order to one of the guards, directing him to take you to your room. You shot a final wave at him before walking away. 

You stood in front of the mirror, evaluating one of the swimsuits you chose around a half hour ago. It was a green bikini and you were just checking to see how it fit before deciding to wear it for the day. Doing a little twirl, you checked how it looked from the back before deciding it was a good choice. Slipping on the sandals you chose along with the variety of swimsuits, you exited the room now appointed as yours, and started heading for the stairs so you could join the party. It wasn’t too late according to the clock hanging in your room so you decided exploring the place you would be staying for the next… however long, wouldn’t hurt. Stopping by the bar, you ordered a simple drink, one that wouldn’t be too much like a shot, but enough for you to maybe get buzzed. You tried to ignore the many eyes of the people by the poolside watching you as you walked over and claimed an empty seat. 

You weren’t alone for long as a dreadlocked girl in a blue bikini walked up and plopped herself onto the same seat as you, your knees skimming briefly before she moved hers away. 

“You’re the newbie, yeah?” She questioned and you wondered how she got the information there was a newcomer so fast. 

“Yeah, I arrived like 30 minutes ago,” you validated. 

“I know. I saw you walk in with Chishiya and head to Hatter. I hear you’re a wiz in Hearts games. That true?” She asked. 

‘Hatter? Huh, so he really took my comment to heart,’ you thought to yourself before answering the girl’s question aloud. “I mean, I guess so. I’ve survived all the Heart games that I’ve done so far so I think I’m decent at them.”

She gasped and her eyes widened. “The fuck do you mean all the Heart games you’ve done? How many is that?”

You smiled sheepishly. “Well I’ve done 8 games in total, and 5 of those were Hearts games.”

She gaped at you before forcing her mouth to close and letting out a sound of disbelief. “Shit, I can’t decide if you’re the luckiest or unluckiest person to exist.”

“I’ll help. I’m very unlucky,” you joked mildly and she laughed. Holding out your hand, you introduced yourself to her with a smile that she genuinely returned. 

“I’m Kuina. I’m sure we’ll be great friends.”

“I hope so,” you agreed. You got to talking about anything and everything that came up until the topic landed back on your experience with games.

“So eight games in total, huh?” She asked. 

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“When did you first arrive here?”

You sighed. “I’ve been here for about two and a half weeks. I spent the last week sleeping in a Plato’s Closet.”

She nodded in acknowledgment. “So you’ve done five Hearts games, right? What are the other three games you’ve done?”

“Yeah. Five,” you confirmed solemnly. “My first and second games were both Diamonds. Those, I was able to get past reasonably quickly but neither was a very high difficulty level anyway. The next three games were Heart games, the hardest of those was the Eight of Hearts that I did. Zero stars. Would not buy again,” you joked but she just looked worried. “Then the next one was a Spades game which wasn’t too bad. We had to scale the walls of a room while they were closing in on us. The rest were all Hearts. No Clubs though. I’ve heard those are about teamwork but-”

“But they’re also the easiest to get through,” you heard a voice interrupt from behind you.

“Chishiya!” Kuina exclaimed with a small smile. Turning around, you watched him as he casually strolled up with his hands in his pockets and sat down on the seat across from yours, facing the two of you. 

“Kuina,” he acknowledged back with a slight nod before his eyes found yours. 

“Hiya, blondie. You planning on abandoning me with another strange man?” You jested and you swore you saw his lips twitch in a smile. It was gone before you could be sure, though. 

“Wait, what?” Kuina asked, glancing between you and Chishiya who held an intense staring contest. 

“Hatter,” Chishiya answered for you and you saw Kuina nod out of the corner of your eye. 

“Oh, that makes sense,” she understood. Chishiya’s eyes flickered away from yours to glance at Kuina and you inwardly cheered at him looking away first. It was childish, but you couldn’t help leaning back smugly as you also turned to look at Kuina. “Strange man?” She laughed and you joined in. 

“Well, I wouldn’t consider a drunk man in swim trunks making out with a girl as another sat on his other side ‘normal’,” you scoffed playfully, remembering what he was doing when you first walked into the room and nudging your shoulder against hers. 

“Neither would I,” she agreed. 

You turned your head when Chishiya called your name, locking your eyes on him again. You were never one to shy away from eye contact so why start now. 

It didn’t matter that he was as attractive as he was.

“How did it go?” He asked you monotonously, referring to the talk with Hatter. 

“All things considered, I guess it went pretty well. He said he was going to call for me tomorrow and ‘introduce me to the executives,’ whoever they are,” you shrugged, taking a sip of your drink. The two shared a look, one you couldn’t decipher. You looked back and forth between them. “What?” 

Kuina snapped her eyes back to you, smiling brightly. A little too brightly. “Nothin-”

“You’ll find out tomorrow,” Chishiya interrupted her and she rolled her eyes before shooting him a light-hearted glare. 

“You shouldn’t interrupt people, by the way. It’s considered rude. Or maybe that’s not a custom on whatever planet you came from,” you deadpanned before casually taking another sip of your drink. Kuina let out a loud bark of a laugh before slapping her hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking from trying to hold back her laughs. You tried to suppress the grin that threatened to overtake your face but it proved futile. Instead, you hid it behind the rim of your cup. 

That is, until, fingers wrapped around your hand as it still held the cup and brought it above your head. Turning around in confusion, your eyes landed on the culprit. He was tall, 5’10” - 5’11” if not already 6’. The black giraffe print long-sleeve button-up shirt he wore was unbuttoned, revealing the black tank top he wore underneath. He had a piercing through his left eyebrow and over his shoulder was an assault rifle which he held proudly. It was strange, he looked oddly familiar. 

He’s kind of cute.

He used the hand holding your drink, as well as your own hand, to bring it to his lips and down the rest before shooting you a smirk.

Nevermind. 

Loosening your grip on the cup, it fell through your fingers and hit the ground, shattering across the concrete. Slapping his hand away from your own, you stood up and turned to face him. 

“Can I help you?” You asked and crossed your arms over your chest, ignoring the worried looks Kuina was giving you. 

He smirked. “Well, if you’re offering.”

His eyes roamed down to your breasts with no shame and stayed there until you reached out to slap his chin to force his head up. “I’m not,” you mocked his tone and told him condescendingly. 

He let out an amused huff, sticking his tongue out to lick his lips and you noticed another piercing down the middle of it. 

“You a newbie?” He asked.

“What would you do if I was?”

“Well, I’d offer to show you around the hotel. I’m sure you’d have a very nice time.”

“Now who’s offering?” You sneered at him with a tilt of your head. 

“Get lost, Niragi,” Chishiya calmly told the intruder as he stood behind you. 

“Yes, Niragi. Please do get lost,” you reiterated his words with a little shooing motion of your hand.

“Yes, ma’am,” he complied, walking backward as he spoke before slowly turning around and strolling away. It was then you noticed the eyes that had been locked onto your interaction for the past minute or two. Some seemed impressed while others seemed fearful. You ignored all of them in favor of sitting back down next to your new friend and the man sitting across from you. The silent atmosphere soon faded and the loud conversations of the party continued. 

“You really should stay away from him. His group is… well, they’re not to be trifled with,” Kuina warned.

“Who is he?” You asked her, looking behind you at the empty space where Niragi just inhabited. 

“Someone you shouldn’t mess with,” she restated seriously, slightly irking you with how vague she was being.

“He’s part of a group called the Militants. You’ll learn more about them tomorrow, too,” Chishiya once again explained where Kuina was being vague about. Although Kuina was more sociable, his bluntness was the one thing you truly appreciated about Chishiya. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “What exactly is happening tomorrow?”

He gave you a smug smirk. “I guess you’ll just have to wait until tomorrow and find out then, Amor.”

“God, you’re such a little shit-wait… ‘Amor’?”

He didn’t say anything else, just keeping the same smug smile on his face as he stood and walked away. You ignored the heat rising to your cheeks and just thanked the fact that he walked away so you wouldn’t have to deal with him while you were so flustered. “Ignore him,” Kuina rolled her eyes from beside you. “He’s probably calling you that because of your experience with Heart games. Amor is also Eros, or Cupid, in Greek mythology. Chishiya’s a sucker for that shit.”

“Oh. Okay,” you replied, feeling annoyed at yourself for the small amount of disappointment that settled in at her words.

You scoffed in annoyance as you remembered the shattered cup on the floor, glinting and sparkling in the moonlight as it sat like tiny crystals on the concrete. “That bitch stole my drink…”

~~~

Taglist!

None yet but let me know if you want to be added!

#alice in borderland #aib #chishiya shuntaro #alice in borderland kuina #alice in borderland chishiya #alice in borderland chishiya shuntaro #shuntaro chishiya #chishiya x reader #shuntaro chishiya x reader #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro x reader #kuina #kuina hikari

[leftingbadly]

Chapter 1: The Will of the World

Diana Quinn was an English professor back on her dying earth before she became the English teacher to a native people called Na'vi on the moon Pandora. After a shockingly horrific incident that caused the school to shut down, a newbie marine by the name of Jake Sully presents her another opportunity to reconnect with The People.

Pairing: Tsu'tey x OFC

Rating: PG13

Themes: Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers

Other Tags: Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Betrayal, Revenge

-;

Diana considered herself a patient person. In fact, if Dr Grace Augustine was the one to write the book on the Pandoran botany she discovered, Diana Quinn was going to claim she wrote the book on patience. 

At least- that’s what she tried to convince herself at six in the morning when a new recruit for the avatar programme was causing a ruckus throughout the sector and knocking over things left and right. She tried to control her rapidly rising anger as she attempted to withhold herself from screaming at the newbie for knocking over her linguistics books and almost making her spill her coffee on them.

“Hey Dick-For-Brains!” She could not, however, control her anger, “Watch where you swing that tiny blue ass of yours!”  The former university English professor had become quite adapt at adopting a marine’s mouth. Being stationed on a moon years away from your own dying planet on a solar system that was not even your own would do that to a woman. 

A prime example of bad habits adopted in the Alpha Centauri System bristled passed her in a flurry of red waves; the one and only Dr Grace Augustine. The bad habit in question was nestled between her two fingers as she took one last drag of her cigarette before hopping into her pod to link with her avatar, no doubt to chase after the newbie causing havoc outside. 

It had been nearly five years since Diana had joined the RDA at the request of Grace and there was not a moment where something went smoothly in those (give or take) one-thousand-eight-hundred-and-twenty-five days. 

The woman rolled her eyes as she stared at the panicking scientists at the sudden exposure to the air outside and watched from behind a glass pane as they quickly attempted to close the breach in the unit. She was shocked to hear of Tom’s sudden death earlier in the month, and even more shocked to learn not weeks later that they were going to be replacing Tom’s scientific mind with a marine’s one in the form of his twin brother. 

She remembers snorting rather loudly in Grace’s face when she was informed of the switch. 

“You’ve got to be joking,” Diana laughed loudly in Grace’s face, but quickly sobered up at the look of dismay on the red headed woman’s face, “You’re serious.” 

“As a heart attack. These airheads are giving me another gun when what I need is people actually capable of using what’s in their heads! It’s like they’re pissing on this whole entire operation after creating the damn fire to begin with!” 

“Okay, Grace, again with the analogies- you are going to have to speak slower for the rest of us to catch up.” Diana laughed as she raised her hands in the air, submitting to the scornful gaze the Dr sent her way. 

“Be honest with me Diana,” Grace took a stressed drag from the cigarette between her fingers, “Do you think we’re just wasting our time here? I mean honestly I feel like there’s nothing we could ever do to make up for what happened at the school-“

Diana cut the woman off before she could continue speaking, “What happened at the school was a horrific thing, Grace. But you can’t keep blaming yourself for it. You helped as many kids as you could, alright?” She stared and waited at the woman until she gave a nod in understanding, “You did everything you could.”

“I just wish I could have done more.”

Diana’s brows furrowed as the memory was pushed to the forefront of her mind. Cold, smoke infused fingers pressed against her forehead to release the tension was what brought her back to the present. 

“We’re going out to run some errands; I’m taking Norm and the newbie with me, you up to stretch your legs?” Grace was unlinked from her avatar and drinking coffee again while simultaneously smoking another cigarette. 

“You’re going to give yourself a problem with that,” Diana said as she eyed the cigarette ruefully.

“Yeah well, better the devil you know. Speaking of which…” Diana followed Grace’s line of sight until she reached the towering figure of Colonel Quaritch, or in Diana’s terms; the ugliest piece of man you would ever lay your eyes upon. 

Colonel Miles Quaritch was one of the RDA Security Operations commanders and served as the chief of security on Pandora, he had arrived on Pandora in the early 2150s and had been in a pain in Grace’s backside ever since, and Diana a while after that. 

“They do say if you speak the devil’s name, you can summon him.” Diana whispered to Grace as he walked by her station. 

“Do you think he wakes up extra early to style his hair and pray to Satan or do you suppose it comes naturally to him?” Grace questioned as they both continued to stair obviously. 

“No on the hair thing- because what hair? As for the Satan prayers… those are definitely ingrained in his DNA, no effort needed- whoops!” The two of them quickly turned around and pretended to busy themselves with the various papers and books that lay strewn across the table as he turned around to face them. 

They snickered quietly to themselves as they kept their eyes down and backs turned to the Colonel. 

“But seriously, we’re going out to gather some things, you in? I could really use some help with the newbie.” 

Diana snorted at the obvious plead for help, but shook her head in disagreement, “No, you don’t need me there. Besides, my expertise remains in the teaching of the English language- not with machineguns and helicopters.” 

“Oh, bullshit,” Grace groaned as she pulled on her friend’s arm, “Come on you’re the best pa’li rider this side of the linking.”

“Yes and you and I both know very well we haven’t even seen so much as one pa’li since-“ 

“Yeah, yeah,” Grace waved her off as she rolled her eyes and relented, “Just so you know, if anything happens out here it’s on you.” The red headed woman taunted as she turned her back on Diana’s rolling eyes. 

After Grace left her alone with her papers and books once again to try and analyse more of Na’vi linguistics, another recruit came up to her and directed her to the armour bay- Colonel Quaritch’s orders.

Diana groaned aloud as she made her way down to the metal hell.

“I want you to gain their trust,” Diana heard Colonel Quaritch’s voice above the loud machine murmurs as she approached them; “I need to know how to force their cooperation or hammer them hard if they won’t.”  

“Am I still with Augustine?” She heard Jake, the newbie, question. 

“On paper.” Came Quaritch’s reply, “Yeah, you walk like one of her science pukes,” Diana flinched at the lack of decorum with his word usage, and rolled her eyes as she figured he probably didn’t even catch his mistake, “-you quack like one, but you report to me. Can you do that for me son?”

Diana narrowed her eyes at Jake’s smirking face, his head bent low as he tried not to smile at what Quaritch said, and responded with an enthusiastic, “Hell yeah, sir.”

“Well alright then,” Quaritch smiled as he looked down at Jake, as though he were looking down at a younger version of himself, then moved to punch the air with the connected arms of the meta-machine, “Son, I take care of my own. You get me what I need, I’ll see to it you get your legs back when you rotate home. Your real legs.”

“That sounds real good, sir.” Jake nodded to the high standing machine that held Quaritch in and Diana jumped from behind one of the other still standing ones as she made her presence known to the Colonel. 

“Someone said you wanted to see me, Colonel Quaritch?” Diana heard herself yell at the older man in an attempt to make her voice heard over the loud whirring of machines and rustling of heavy artillery. 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Diana gritted her teeth together at the name, “Some of my men were attacked at the base near Highcrags.”

“And that’s my problem because?” Diana folded her arms together, not liking where the conversation was heading, knowing exactly who and what was situated closest to the mining dump at Highcrags.

“Well as you know the operations at the Floating Cave aren’t exactly being fully accepted by some of your little smurf friends-“

“Considering you used explosives to clear the entire place to rubble and ruin I wouldn’t exactly expect a gift basket, Colonel.”

Jake snorted from behind Quaritch at Diana’s statement, but tried to cover it up as a cough when the older man’s gaze turned to him.

“Look, I don’t particularly care what you or your savage sweethearts seem to think you have control over,” And he adjusted a large mechanical firearm in the hands of his AMP suit, “Look over the pictures, translate what it is your precious Tawkami clan is trying to tell us and then report back to me; because I have a message of my own.”

“And if I don’t?” Diana retorted to the retreating back of the AMP suit.

Quaritch turned his back to face her again as he yelled out, “Then seeing as though your plans for cooperation with the other clan of savaged blue lizards failed- I fail to see your use here anymore, Professor.” He sneered her title like an insult as he smirked and turned away. 

“You two sure do seem to get on well,” From beside her Jake snorted his amusement, but Diana paid him no mind as she rolled her eyes and began briskly walking away from him.

His face fell at her cold behaviour and called after her, “Hey,” But she ignored him, “Hey!” He pushed the wheels of his wheelchair faster and turned to position him in front of her, blocking her from going further, “Have we met before?”

She did nothing but stared down at him, and then turned away as he raised his eyebrows expectantly. 

“Did I do something to upset you or…?” He pushed, and she let out a frustrated groan.

“You know you aren’t the only one who lost something in that war.” She told him hotly.

“What are you talking about?” Jake stuttered at her statement.

She rolled her eyes at the marine again, “Earth’s intercontinental conflict in the twenty-second century? It kind of created a global energy crisis and left the earth in the great demand for natural resources? Ring any bells, marine?”

This time it was Jake who rolled his eyes at her sarcasm, “I know what you’re talking about, what has that got anything to do with-“

“You lost your legs in the war serving your country, others lost their lives,” That shut him up quickly, “And those who had to live with that loss, don’t you think they’d do everything they could to bring them back?” Her face fell for a brief moment, and Jake saw it- as well as the hard fury that came after, “Everything that is, except genocide.” And she pushed passed him.

This time Jake didn’t go after, but only yelled at her, “So it’s my fault for wanting to get my legs back? I’m the selfish one?” She turned around sharply at the accusation. 

“You’re trading your legs for the extinction of an entire people for some rocks and dirt!” She argued back, but lowered her voice and walked closer to him when she noticed the attention of onlookers. 

“I’m not killing anyone,” Jake seethed, quickly becoming irritated at the accusations she was throwing at him.

“No, you aren’t. But I suppose supplying Quaritch with information about the Omaticaya and the ways best to hammer them down is all in innocent fun?” This time it was her seething to him, “What exactly do you think he meant by that? Look around you Jake,” Diana waved her hands around them, to the vast amount of AMP suits, guns and artillery as well as helicarriers filled with bombs, “The entire avatar program is a sham, and everything Grace and I are trying to do means nothing to them.”

“Then why do it?” Jake challenged, “If it’s so pointless, why try to communicate with the indigenous at all?”

Diana sighed as she ran her hand down her face, “Because not trying makes me just as bad as Quaritch, and it makes me just as bad as you.” 

“You did what?” Diana shrieked in horror many hours later once Grace and Norm had returned with Trudy, their pilot- without the newbie. Of course, while the body of Jake Sully was alive and well resting in his linking pod, the tall three metre long, blue avatar body however was left to the wilds of Pandora, alone and defenceless with no real training or preparation of what the moon held. 

“We lost the kid.” Grace said as she stared off into the distance, as though she herself were coming to terms with what they did as she was explaining the experience to Diana. 

“We were just inspecting some samples when all of a sudden we hear Jake standing off with this huge hammerhead titanothere! And then all of a sudden this huge thanator shows up and scares the hammerheads away! And then all-“

“Okay, okay Norm I get it, slow down,” Diana laughed as the tall man tried to catch his breath, “So you lost Tom’s avatar. Great.” Diana mumbled a series of incoherent profanities as she sighed heavily. Diana gathered her hair in a bundle at the back of her head and attempted to tie it with the small hair tie resting on her wrist, but once she tried to make the second hoop around the elastic snapped and broke. 

She groaned in frustration, letting her hair fall back to its original position. Not only was she frustrated about the entire avatar loss situation, but the air inside the containers they had built Hell’s Gate around was humid and still.

“Maybe it’s a good thing,” Diana offered, trying to find the silver lining in the loss of an avatar body, “The last thing you need out there is another trigger happy marine anyway, never mind a three metre tall one.”

“We just keep taking blow after blow, don’t we?” Grace’s question was rhetorical as they all stood around Jake’s linking pod, waiting for him to wake up as the hours passed by. And when he finally did, he told them something none of them would have expected. 

They were all in Hell’s Kitchen when Grace recounted the story again, “The last thing we see is this Marine’s ass disappearing into the bush with this angry thanator coming after him!” She turned her hand upside down and made grabbing motions into the air, as if mimicking the thanator’s fangs and Diana found herself laughing loudly along with the rest of the group.

“Well, it’s not something you can teach.” Jake boasted smugly around a mouth full of food.

“You know, for reasons I cannot fathom, the Omaticaya have chosen you. God help us all.”

Jake found Diana hours later in the linking room where her small office was set up. She was situated, as she normally was, on top of a large desk with various papers and books about her, each of them held written pieces of a language he was unfamiliar with.

“What are these?” He asked as he approached her on his wheelchair, taking a book from beside her as he inspected one of the books with what seemed to be words and vocabulary. 

When she didn’t respond to him, he only continued to pester her, “How do you even read these?” He tilted his head from side to side, and she rolled her eyes as she grabbed the book from his hand and flipped it upside down before handing it back to him.

“Oh, right, right… it makes so much more sense to me now.” He joked, and she shook her head at his foolishness. “What does this one mean?”

She looked at the word he pointed to and laughed, “Skxawng, it means dumbass.” She raised her brow at him, “Fitting that that’s the one you’d be drawn to.”

“Sk’awn,” Jake tried.

“Skxawng,” Diana corrected him, but shook her head when he repeated it wrong again, “Sk-xaw-ng.” She said it slowly a third time and nodded her head once he finally caught on. 

“I think one of the Na’vi called me this last night,” Jake wondered aloud which caused Diana to laugh softly, “Real nasty looking bastard.” 

She nodded her head as he described the Na’vi, “Wooden neck protector? A braid dangling in front of his face that he thinks makes him look cool?”

Jake gasped as he clicked his fingers in front of Diana’s face and pointed, “Exactly! God what an asshole.”

“Tsu’tey,” Diana supplied, “He was one of the students at the school too, albeit very reluctant to join at first, loves his analogies in Na’vi but could never get passed the longer sounding words in English.”

Jake snorted at the new information about the warrior who seemed so frightening on top of his direhorse with his bow and arrow. 

“Wait, you were at the school too?” Diana raised her eyebrows at the sudden question and Jake clarified for her, “We went there today on the recon mission for Grace’s samples… were you there when…?” Jake couldn’t ask the question, but his mind flashed with the memory of the bullet holes through the wooden panelling of the small house.

When Diana said nothing, Jake continued, “That’s why you were so up my ass a day ago.” He realised.

She shook her head as she responded in a whisper, making eye contact with his eyes, “I can’t betray them again Jake.” And it was a rare moment of vulnerability he hadn’t seen otherwise in the weeks he had known her.

Diana watched tightly as Grace walked into the room and began to prepare Jake for another day in the Omaticaya village, going through the list of known Na’vi and their respective roles in the clan. 

“T’su’tey.” Jake stated as he lifted himself up into the pod.

“Tsu’tey,” Grace corrected, “He’ll be the next clan leader.”

Diana smiled fondly at the name, and sniffled her nose before she added on, “He’s not going to be fond of you,” She nodded her head to the picture of Tsu’tey on the screen.

“He’s their best warrior,” Norm added on, “So expect some passive-aggressive tendencies from him.”

Diana shrugged, “-or aggressive-aggressive.” She offered, and he nodded his head in mock thanks. 

Diana’s attention reverted back to her notes, looking at the writing from the images Quaritch had forwarded her and the limited amount of translations she had left from the Omaticaya clan after the purge of the school. She couldn’t make sense of some of the characters labelled there, but being the only clan with any form of writing system she was at a loss for what the words meant or where she could find a translation.

Her ears perked up when Grace mentioned Sylwanin.

“I got a date with Sylwanin too,” She stared hard at Jake as he winked at Norm, bragging about something he didn’t know anything about.

“She’s dead.” Grace told him, and the room enveloped in a tense air. Grace and Diana shared a long, sorrowful look before she pushed Jake into the pod and started linking him up back to his avatar at the Omaticaya Hometree. 

Diana shook her head at the now linked up male before turning her attention back to her notes at hand, “Grace,” She called over the scientist, “Do any of these letters look familiar to you?” 

Grace came over and inspected the papers in the younger Professor’s hands, “No, not really. Are these the markings from the Tawkami attack?” Diana nodded her head as she held her hair back from her face with one hand, eyes drooping slowly as she attempted to focus her eyesight. 

“Have you slept at all since Quaritch gave you these?” Diana shook her head to Grace’s question.

“He’s so hell-bent on reclaiming the Highcrags and the damn mining site near the Floating Caves he won’t just take no for an answer, and if I don’t come up with an answer he likes who knows what he’ll do to that poor clan.” She groaned in frustration. 

“Look, I know how important this is to you but tiring yourself out and passing out from exhaustion isn’t going to help anyone, you need to sleep.”

Diana only grumbled but made no move to go towards the sleeping bunks.

Grace sighed and pulled up a chair, “I don’t know what the runes say, but look at this; they drew something near the end of the first sentence.”

“What is that?” Diana heard herself ask in a low mumble, “A flower?”

“Pseudocenia Rosea, also known as the chalice plant.” Grace told Diana as she identified one of the many floras that decorated the ecosystem of Pandora.

“Why would the Tawkami draw something like this for the RDA to see?” Diana asked Grace as she looked from the screen showcasing the image to her partner. 

“Maybe it wasn’t meant for the RDA,” Grace offered as she handed the tablet back to Diana whose mind only filled with more questions than clarity. 

Chapter 2: Reconnection with Ommaticaya

#avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar fan fiction #James Cameron #movie #avatar 2 #writing #fanfiction #tsutey #neytiri #Jake sulley #tsutey x ofc #tsutey fanfiction #tsutey imagine #tsutey x reader #authors #fluff #angst #betrayal #tsutey angst #tsu'tey #james cameron avatar #tsu'tey avatar #avatar angst

[bootleg-parable]

Factor of Feeling ; A Parable Progression

Shiloh was generous enough to grant themself this moment of silence. Although it was just another out of what felt like thousands, this moment was different. They slipped their cap from their head and tried slicking the messy frays of their hair back into place. The gel was dry again.

It was always so quiet when they returned to the house. Moving between here and the busy environment of the station was enough of a contrast to put a man into shock. Shiloh was no exception. Even Archie had stopped rushing forth to greet the officer in their arrival. There was nothing that was worth anything anymore.

Not since Donatello’s disappearance.

Shiloh could marvel endlessly at the bizarre and undivulged way of his vanishing-act, but no answers came from the stream of questions they might have asked. This was a mysterious case, and one that bugged Officer Pamello to the ends of the Earth. Nobody held enough of a grudge against Donnie to flat out kill him, and if any quarrell of the sort existed, Shiloh hasn’t come across a single thread of evidence yet. As far as they knew, their best friend had simply slipped off the face of the Earth and left no traces to track back to an answer that could have offered solace.

It absolutely broke Shiloh.

They had enough energy to hang their hat by the door and make their way to the living room, where they sat themself for what would probably be the rest of the night. They’d tried day in and day out to stop the grief from getting to their head, so that they might better focus on their job, but this calibre of pain rivalled that of duller extremities, and became too hard to fight. But why? Shiloh did this kind of work for a living. They have seen things that eyes should never fall upon. They have dealt with horrific cases that humankind should never be crazy enough to commit. Why is it that, out of their entire line of work, this was the hardest case to break, but the quickest to break them? It all felt impossible to understand. Donatello could still be out there. He could be hurt. He could have been abducted. Shiloh couldn't do anything about it. They felt so...helpless.

Every possible scenario in Shiloh’s head made their eyes sting until they could hold the dam no longer. They fell in on themselves, slouching over on the couch with their face cupped in their hands. Every tear was absorbed into their gloves. Every sob was muffled in the fabric. In any normal situation, they would have been disgusted; touching their face with these filthy accessories. But right now, nothing mattered. Sorrow was so much stronger than they were. It only took a healthy 5 minutes of ugly sobbing for Donatello’s collie to come creeping out of the shadows, staring upward at Shiloh with round, worried eyes. Shiloh flinched and sat up at the rough-furred figure that moved into their vision, but they were smart enough to recognize Archie with ease.

“Oh– Archie, I’m so sorry,” They apologised, and they scooted over when the hound hopped onto the couch beside them. “I’m probably stressing you the fuck out.”

Archie lowered her head onto Shiloh’s lap, resting her paws out in front of her. She understood better than any other human-being just how hard this loss was to get around. Donatello was her owner. Shiloh knew that they were rather close.

They ran a hand along her back and used the sleeve of their opposite arm to wipe their face. “I promise we’ll find him, okay?” They took off their gloves to cradle Archie’s face properly in their hands.

She licked Shiloh’s nose. They smiled. A little.

“I promise.”

Teller found such joy in looking through all of the different hardcovers along the bookshelf. Each one felt like a different memory to him, and while some might have been more sombre than others, every recollection got a small grin out of him. He set certain books aside on the desk at the end of the shelves so he could sort, clean, and file one section at a time. He wasn’t usually granted many visits to the in-office library in between work hours. Coming back to it was nice and all, but it was filthy. There probably wasn’t an inch of the room that wasn’t coated in an asthma-inducing layer of dust. Teller glanced down at the tail of his coat. Just as he suspected, the very end of it went from a deep brown to an ash-grey. He scowled.

“Well, that’s just dandy.”

He’d definitely need to wash it when this was all over with. A lint roller would have done fine, but Teller would’ve felt dirty without giving it a proper cleaning. User called him “nit-picky” once. He was starting to see it now.

He lifted a book from the shelf and blew on the surface of its cover, revealing brilliant shades of red and gold beneath the horrendous layering of grime. He regretted his previous choice in an instant, because that exact grime flew into the air around him, and he inhaled just about half of it.

“Oh b– ack!– bugger.” He wafted the debris from his face and stepped back, using the cuff of his sleeve to clean his glasses. “You’d think this place was abandoned.”

He opened the book and flipped through the pages, trying to remember what this scripture was about. He could tell a lot of the books by heart, but there were a few of the bunch that needed a look-through to jog his memory. In his scanning over the text, someone’s finger moved tauntingly up the back of his neck, and at first it had startled him, and he yelped before clapping an embarrassed hand over his mouth.

Teller shook his head and laughed in spite of himself. There was no coworker of his that would’ve done that. It made the identity of his visitor so obvious. “Hah hah. You’re very funny, User.” He fixed his glasses back into their correct placement. “You can’t scare me. But I applaud your valiant attempt.”

The suspect behind him leaned over and took a breath before speaking, and with the sound of their movement alone, the elder man could tell that this person was taller than him. His eyebrows knitted together. Strange. User wasn’t taller than him, that was for damn sure. Who on Earth? The voice that came from behind him was low and close, hovered just over his shoulder. Teller shuddered at it.

“Are you scared now?”

There was also no coworker of his that sounded like that. He turned his head quickly, and he froze up in the shadow of something nonhuman with a figure that blended perfectly into the darkness, except for its brighter, yellow details that were enhanced by the lights. It didn’t have any arms. . .or legs. Or a face, for that matter. Teller mouthed the words “what the hell”, but he couldn’t find his voice to say them aloud. That’s when whatever hand that’d grazed him earlier struck him, and the whole of his sight went to nothing but flashes of black and white. He hit the bookshelf behind him and fell to the ground with a flickering and torturous pain that was making quick and easy work of his head. The pounding of his own heart filled his ears alongside a nightmarish ringing. He tried to scream- to call for any kind of help- but the initial shock of seeing that thing completely stripped that ability away from him.

He wondered if User would break his silence to scream if the other really had to.

For now the elder man could only writhe on the ground in one of the most extreme feats of anguish he’d ever experienced. Every conception in his head fell to pieces. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t even move on his own will. Through the blood in his sparkly vision, he could see that mammoth of a monster coming toward him. He couldn’t ask himself how it managed to walk without any legs while still being in contact with the ground. One of its hands extended toward him, and Teller felt himself get dragged- none too gently, mind you- across the floor. That gnawing ache in his head was starting to drive him to numbness. Fear was no longer worth his perception. That scream that he tried to belt earlier escaped him as a meek groan; the first sound that he’s been able to make since this started.

The earth-shaking thud of the bookshelf collapsing from his impact fell on deaf ears as he slipped into a very comfortable blackness.

User’s panic was loud and alive when he ran into that library. Finding Teller in some sort of trouble was a given- even if it was something stupid- but User had prayed that it wouldn’t actually be anything serious.

Seeing his friend in a puddle of blood beside a fallen bookshelf could certainly be labelled as “serious”. The red smear across the tile told User that Teller must have dragged himself away in time before the bookshelf landed on him. It was lucky that only the end of his coat suffered the gravity of the fall. User worked the other out of the trench for now- he could come back and get it when the time was better suited- and hauled him to the room that they were in before. He should have gone looking for help, but if nobody showed up after the walls shook from the shelf, then what was the point? That’d be a waste of time, and time was always of the essence.

The ground will have to do, User thought to himself while he tried putting Teller back down, gently, but with haste.

He knew Teller would despise him for it, but he removed the jacket loaned to him on his arrival and used it in place of a towel to stifle the bleeding. The jacket belonged to Teller, after all, and he knew that blood was a tough stain to scrub out, especially on white fabric. This jacket was probably going in the trash, after this.

Hopefully he won’t mind.

…

Hopefully he lives. 

User patted the unbruised side of Teller’s face for any sliver of a reaction. What even happened? What the hell kind of organising was Teller doing for this to be the outcome? User didn’t see a ladder…did he? Maybe Teller fell off of it. But that didn’t explain the shelf coming down with him. The elder man was a mystery that carried more mysteries with him, and all of them were endless.

Please wake up.

This couldn’t be it. It was too soon. It was too sudden.

Tears were burning in his eyes. Crying felt like absolute battery acid. User always hated it. He hated how it felt. He hated how it looked and how it sounded. And all of the reasons that a person might start crying.

He hated it.

But he couldn’t even choke it down. His heart was bigger than his body. He wasn’t as tough as Teller was. Not a single version of Teller ever cried in front of User, not even as they were dying. How did he do it? How was he so effortlessly…himself? User could rack his mind for answers for every eternity that he was stuck in, but he’d probably never find a good one.

What would the next Teller be like if this one died? User didn’t want to lose him so early on. But the jacket was already soaked, and Teller was paler than he was when User found him.

This wasn't working.

…Please wake up.

#the stanley parable #tspud #narratorverse #bootleguser #tsp stanley #tsp narrator #bootlegstoryteller #bootlegentity(: #bootlegentity #bootlegshiloh #writing #writer

[sparklyaxolotlstudent]

I reincarnated into the villainess of Miraculous Ladybug!

Part 3

Yeah, after ten thousand years, a new chapter! I really couldn't work with Horrificator, so I ultimately decided to skip it and go directly for Princess Fragrance to get Chloe to Master Fu, and next will be Volpina. Hopefully not after other 10 thousand years

Chloe couldn’t believe her eyes.

She already knew this moment was going to happen sooner or later when she learned that Prince Ali was going to visit the sick kids of Paris, and for some reason she had to accompany him, instead of her dad, or a diplomat.

She still had to hide her glee from Sabrina. She had Tikki in her own hands!

She wished she could tell her everything she knew, and how much she admired what she and Marinette were doing.

“Did I hear you say Prince Ali?” Rose approached them timidly, after Chloe’s limo had arrived and Sabrina opened her door.

“Not that I want to, but yeah” She said quickly, hiding Tikki in her purse, muttering a “Sorry”, which Tikki for a moment thought was meant for her, but dismissed the notion. This was Chloe after all.

“Oh please, could you give him a special letter from me?”

“Sure, no problem”

“That is so amazingly sweet of you to do this for me!” 

“But just so we are in the same page, I can’t guarantee he will be able to read it, his assistant might confiscate it or something”

Rose deflated a bit with those words.

“But I will do my best so he can get it”

“I understand. Thank you, Chloe!” Rose smiled and went away, happy as ever. Chloe was happy that at least she was able to prevent her akumatization. She then was able to hear Marinette whisper yelling for Tikki.

On the one hand, she could continue with the script and keep Tikki for a couple of hours… but since she prevented “Princess Fragrance” being created, it could be difficult to return Tikki later. She sighed, and then took Tikki out of her purse.

“Hey, Marinette!”

The other girl turned around; worry written all over her face. Her face changed when she saw Tikki in Chloe’s hand, from worry to happiness, to a sudden realization to worry again.

“Is this uh… toy?... yours?” said Chloe not very convincing. Marinette nodded cautiously, ready to plunge if Chloe tried anything funny. To her surprise, Chloe carefully put Tikki in her hands. “You should be more careful, it looks delicate. I don’t know what it is, but it feels a bit hot, maybe you should take it to the doctor hehe” Chloe tried to joke, giving a hint to Marinette to bring Tikki to Master Fu, which Marinette found odd.

“Thanks… I… uh… I will?”

Chloe smiled and finally went inside the limo, not before noticing that Marinette seemed to be “talking” discreetly with Tikki, and suddenly ran to the opposite direction Chloe was going, which also was opposite Marinette’s home.

Then she realized, that she was going to Master Fu right now.

Without hesitation, she ordered her chauffer to return home and give the letter to her dad to give to Prince Ali. She left the limo and went after Marinette, not noticing Rose was staring at her.

-

Chloe followed Marinette, noticing how every now and then she kept opening her purse and whispering to it, no doubt asking for directions. They eventually reached a non-descript house.

Chloe decided to wait out until Marinette was done to enter and confirm if it was indeed Master Fu house, as she couldn’t be sure until she saw him herself. Idly, she reached for her phone to call her dad… and then she noticed she had a Akuma Alert message.

She didn’t even know there was a Akuma Alert App.

Opening the app, she read through it and her eyes went wide. It was Rose, or rather, Princess Fragrance. “OH, COME ON!”

She couldn’t believe it. Even if she tried to be nice, the universe conspired to create the akumas anyway… She sighed, and was about to go home to try to talk to Rose, or at least help Chat Noir until Tikki got healed, but then she heard the door of the house opening, Marinette getting out quickly, and then going into an alley. She then saw Ladybug emerge and go in direction to the hotel.

She looked at her options… even if she went to the hotel, she probably would only get in Ladybug’s way… or end up smelling like fish. Push comes to shove, she would go if Ladybug and Chat Noir couldn’t defeat her, but now… she wanted to talk to Master Fu.

-

She knocked on the door, and waited, eventually, Master Fu answered, and looked at her with a confused look on his face. It was obvious he knew who she was, and the normal Chloe Bourgeois would never be on a place like this. At least not voluntarily.

“Hello, my name is Chloe Bourgeois”

“Welcome to my humble establishment young lady. What can I help you with? A massage for your father, perhaps?”

“No, thank you. I…”

In that moment, Chloe realized that, for all the time she had spent trying to locate Master Fu, she had never planned on what to say. Master Fu looked at her even more confused, and a little concerned.

“Are you lost? I can call a taxi to take you to your home”

“No, I’m exactly where I wanted… Ah, screw it.” Chloe pushed past Master Fu, who was still confused, and now a little annoyed at her rude behavior. She planted herself in the middle of the room, staring at the gramophone that she knew was where Wayzz and the Miraculous were hidden” Without looking back at Master Fu, she took a deep breath and just started to talk.

“I know the girl that just left is Ladybug, and I also know who is Chat Noir, and that you chose them to fight against Hawk Moth. I also know you’re wearing the turtle Miraculous, and you have more Miraculous on that gramophone” she said in a single breath, pointing at the gramophone. “Wayzz is probably hiding in there too” she added.

Master Fu was wide eyed, he was obviously not expecting that, specially not from Chloe Bourgeois, who even he knew was the spoiled rotten daughter of the mayor. He just stared at the girl, unsure on how to react. “Who… what? No, young lady, you’re wrong haha” he tried to laugh. Chloe’s face was serious.

“I know is hard to believe that someone like myself would have such information”

Chloe took another deep breath, this time turning around and facing him. She was not sure how Master Fu would react to her story, but, well, if there was a girl running around in magical ladybug pajamas, it would be hard to not believe her.

“It’s hard to explain… I’m not the Chloe Bourgeois that was before… Or maybe I am… it’s confusing, to say the least…”

She proceeded to say what had happened to her, how “Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir” was a show she used to watch on her previous life, and how everything seemed to match her memories, and how she now had two sets of memories. Master Fu listened to her, his confusion fading and more of an understanding reaching him.

“It’s hard to believe… but not impossible. Even if you had learned of their identities in some other way, I made sure to not connect myself to them. Wayzz, you can come out.”

The Little turtle kwami came out of the gramophone, and flied around Chloe, as if studying her.

“I knew there was something about you. I think she’s the anomaly I told you about Master”

“Anomaly?” asked Chloe a bit offended.

“I can tell…” Said Wayzz, still floating around Chloe. Chloe gulped nervously.

“What… I’m not human or something?”

“Uh?” Wayzz realized he was staring and blushed a bit. He shook his head. “No, sorry. It’s… hard to explain. You’re human, and you have only one soul, but it’s like… hmm”

Wayzz looked around, and noticed a notepad.

“It’s like this” he went and grabbed the notepad and a couple of pens. He wrote “human” in one page. “Master Fu and everyone else are like this… and you… are like this” he grabbed the other pen, and wrote human too. The first pen was black, the second was blue.

“I don’t get it”

“The word is the same. Same meaning, same work, the same person wrote it. And yet, one is black, and one is blue. Other than that, they’re the same”

“That is both extremely vague and also very helpful”

“If I’m correct, you’re still the Chloe Bourgeois we know, but somehow the memories of that other life were awakened. You’re you.”

“Do you know who Hawk Moth is?” asked Master Fu, finally able to process what Chloe had told him.

Chloe shook her head. “No. The season ended without revealing it. Oh! The last episode was about a new transfer student, and a book about previous Miraculous Holders.”

“The grimoire? Where it is?”

“Gabriel Agreste has it. Adrien will randomly notice that his dad has a safe behind the portrait of his mother, Plagg will open it and notice the book, and they take it. The new student stole the book, but Marinette and Tikki retrieve it, the last scene was Tikki bringing Marinette here to introduce you”

Wayzz and Master Fu looked at each other, concerned.

“If Gabriel Agreste has the Grimoire, there’s a big chance he also has the Miraculous I lost… Was anything else in that safe?”

“A picture of Adrien’s mom, I think a ticket… and…” Chloe’s eyes went wide. She took the notepad from Wayzz and drew something on it, and showed it to Master Fu. “This.”

Master Fu looked at the drawing and then at Chloe again. “The Peacock Miraculous…” Chloe nodded.

“That’s what the internet thought, but… well, Gabriel Agreste has made jewerly based on the other Miraculous, that new student bought a pendant that was identical to the Fox Miraculous, so it could be a fake, as Plagg also didn’t even noticed it when he saw the book”

“Do you know when this will happen?”

“No, the series was very loose with their continuity, but I already saw all the akumas from the season, the only one that is yet to happen is the new student one, so it could be any time now. “

“… I’m going to trust you” said Master Fu solemnly. “Ever since you came here, have your actions changed how you remember the… uhm… ‘show’?” Master Fu was visibly uncomfortable that their life was just a kid’s cartoon on another universe, but there was nothing he could do about it.

“Well… kind of…”

Chloe explained everything that had happened ever since she became… well, her. How even if she was trying to be nice, she was still provoking the same Akumas to happen. It happened with Max, with Mylene and now with Rose.

“The details might change, but I’m guessing Volpina will still happen no matter what I do”

“We’ll wait. Even if the book doesn’t make its way to me, since we know where it is, we can retrieve it. We could use one of the other Miraculous to infiltrate the manor.”

“I could go and confirm whether what Chloe saw is or not Duusuu’s Miraculous”

“Is too risky. If Gabriel Agreste is Hawk Moth, he could capture you. We’ll only use that as a last resort. Meanwhile, we have to keep our eyes open”

Chloe and Wayzz nodded. She was surprised that Master Fu had trusted her so quickly, but again, with a girl doing super heroics in magical ladybug pajamas, this was probably far from the weirdest thing he had experienced.

“Have you told anyone else about this?”

“No. I know their identities are important, and… well, I don’t think anyone would believe me, especially with my reputation. Heck, if it wasn’t myself, I would be doubting my own sanity. Oh, by the way, is it possible to be akumatized again?”

Master Fu nodded solemnly. “Yes. You could become Antibug again or get a whole new set of powers. And with the information you have… well…. We have to find ways to prevent that”

Chloe nodded, and the rest of the afternoon was spent with Master Fu teaching her techniques that could help calm down, and finding the heroic resolve to not be akumatized again.

When she left the place, Chloe had added Master Fu to her contacts with a turtle icon, and was happy to learn that Ladybug and Chat Noir had dealt with Princess Fragrance without an issue.

#Reincarnated ML AU #ML AU #chloe bourgeois

[tarabyte3]

Title: Wants, Needs, and Clerical Errors

Fandom: Andor

Characters/Pairings: Kino Loy, Kino Loy x F!Reader

Chapters: 1/3 (6.9k words)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

AO3 link | Playlist

Summary: You're only on Narkina 5 due to a mistake on your transfer paperwork and no one in charge seems to care. The work is horrific and being the only woman there is a nightmare, but Kino Loy is... intriguing. (Okay, he's hot. He's very hot.)

Tags: Explicit rating, smut, prison, prison sex, sex, oral sex, fingering, dirty talk, attempted sexual assault, fear of sexual assault, violence, blood, minor character death, fluff, happy ending

A/N: This fic was my first Reader darling. 🥺 It was only supposed to be a one shot, but people enjoyed it and I wanted to keep writing Kino fic so it ended up being 3 chapters instead. When I was finished, I realized that I had wanted/intended to write Dom!Kino, but that never came to fruition. The tone ended up being more romantic and sweet, and it just never happened. Which is how I ended up writing I Want You to Show Me Weak. So you can see the progression from this to Show Me Weak, if you're so inclined.

Chapter 1

Your transfer was a mistake.

Somewhere, some desk jockey—some worthless Imperial lackey—had been filing the paperwork for the transfer you should have been given, and they marked the wrong box.

A simple mistake. Likely one with a fix just as simple. All the guards knew you clearly hadn't arrived at the correct prison. The problem was that none of them cared enough to fix it.

Fixing things made waves, waves got attention, and too much attention was bad. They all feared it. Besides, who would know you were tucked away in the wrong spot? One prisoner amongst thousands. Hundreds of thousands, maybe. Who would care? So none of them said a word as you were led across the waves of Narkina 5 lapping below, through the doors, and into the intake room.

At least most of the guards had the decency to look away as you changed into your new uniform. The only one who didn't laughed as you removed your shirt and said, "At least she looks like she'll keep up." One of the others shushed him, but for the first time it had occurred to you to wonder where you had ended up instead.

Your legs were still jelly from the electric floor demonstration when you emerged onto the walkway of your station. Your new home for the next two years. Your old prison had been dank, dark, and violent. Sometimes the inmates had been just as cruel as the guards were all of the time. So the bright lights and the spotless white interior were almost painful to your ill adjusted eyes.

At the sound of the doors opening and the guards shouting for attention, dozens of heads turned in your direction. There was a heartbeat of shocked silence, like a deep inhale, and then the large room erupted in whispers and murmurs of confusion and disbelief. You expected the guards to scream for quiet and order, but it was a voice from below that yelled out instead.

"Quiet! New man on the floor!" The voices faded almost immediately. "Hold your positions!"

The guard behind you gave you a rough shove forward. "Onto the lift!" Your hands moved instinctively from behind your head to reach out and stop yourself from falling, but you remembered the threats of pain and death. Instead you quickly placed your hands back into position, caught your footing, and walked to the platform. You expected a shock anyway because it was a universal truth that guards reveled in cruelty.

Closer now you could see over the railing and below at all of the bewildered faces that stared up at you from around work stations. They were all worn, but surprisingly scrubbed as clean as the building's interior. Everything there was unnaturally clean. Sterile.

Then you saw a man standing away from the rest, and you realized he must have been the one that yelled. To be honest, you were expecting another guard, but he was a prisoner wearing the same uniform you were. He filled in the clothes much better than you did, though. Especially around the shoulders where the top exposed more of your collarbone than was comfortable. He was older than you—by more than a decade or two, at least—his hair was greying, he had a short salt and pepper beard, and his bright blue eyes stared up at you with an unreadable expression. His posture was rigid, his face stern, and he was, a traitorous voice in your mind supplied, very attractive.

You rode the platform down with as much dignity as you could muster, and you could feel every eye in the room glued to you. But you ignored all of them save one. You stared down at that stoic man until you were finally eye to eye with him, the lift stopping with a light thump of contact. The guard didn't even have to force you off. You were moving the second it stopped, eager to be away from him and the electric prod he carried, and you didn't stop walking until you were standing before this new man, both of you facing each other in identical positions. On program. He was shorter than you expected, and he looked at you passively.

"Name." Is all he said.

"Why am I here?" You asked him. Your voice was not as steady as you had hoped for a first impression. You wanted to appear as unflappable as he did. You were, after all, trapped in a room full of men and a quickly retreating guard. The last thing you wanted to be seen as was vulnerable.

But he didn't answer you. Instead he said, "This is Unit Five-Two-D. Level five, room two, the D is for Day shift. Seven levels of factory, seven rooms per level, seven tables per room, seven men at each table. My name is Kino Loy. I'm the Five-Two-D unit manager. The forty-nine men in this room answer to me. Name."

"I'm not a man." Being there was disorienting, and you hadn't figured out how to navigate your new situation yet. You hoped that at any moment someone would fix the terrible mistake that had been made and take you back up. Then you would be moved to the place you were supposed to be and this would be over. The man before you and that white room, nothing more than a memory. The lift behind you stopped at its destination. It settled with a click of finality, and you knew that wouldn't be the case.

Kino's jaw clenched. "Doesn't matter. You're mine now. Name."

Something fluttered in your chest. A confusing mix of lust and fear. So you blurted out your name without much thought, and a crack appeared in his carefully constructed mask. For a brief moment, you saw confusion, concern, and an echo of your own fear. But then the doors closing above snapped him out of it and he barked, "Off program! Back to work."

Your first few weeks were exhausting. Your muscles ached, your joints creaked, and anything that could feel stiff did—especially your back. Otherwise you had remained safe and whole. For the most part. Certainly, men stared and gaped at you, some more shamelessly than others. Only once had one of them tried to approach you in the dormitory hall, but Kino was there in an instant and the man was shoved into the wall, Kino's forearm to his throat, and told in no uncertain terms, "Leave her alone." His voice was loud enough that it was clear he was speaking to everyone. The others seemed to listen. For the time being.

The men at your station had grumbled when you took your place, which was less than you expected, but they were soon quiet. Not with respect, but satisfaction that you didn't seem to slow them down at least. So maybe your table didn't finish first, but you avoided the bottom few spots and the shock that came with last place.

Average. Unassuming. Overlooked. That was the perfect spot for you to be in to draw as little attention to yourself as possible.

Except that, several times when you had looked around, you caught Kino Loy staring.

The first few times he quickly glanced away and down at his tablet, the shyness contradictory to his stern demeanor, but the more you caught him, the longer his gaze lingered. You stared back until the men at your station shouted at you to hurry up. You scrambled to get a part in place, and when you went to look back at him, he had already returned to pacing around the room like nothing had happened.

Maybe nothing had. Maybe you were reading into things and he was just keeping an eye on you as the newest person on his team. Maybe he just hadn't seen a woman in so long that you were as much a novelty to him as you were to the others. Maybe he was disappointed you had ended up on his floor and his shift. His problem.

Or maybe he felt the same stirring in his gut when he looked at you as you did when you looked at him. Maybe there was something there.

Then the two of you were alone in the cell hallway. Not alone alone because no one was ever truly alone in the hallway, but there was an empty bubble of space around you, one that felt intentional, and that was close enough to the same thing. So you closed the distance between you, and he looked surprised to see you standing there at his side.

"What is it?" His voice was always so gruff that it made you shiver.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself to speak while you had his full attention. "I know my presence here isn't making your life any easier. I'm sorry about that." You leaned forward a little closer to him and lowered your voice so anyone eavesdropping nearby would be unable to hear, "But I never thanked you for the other day. I appreciate feeling as though I can at least exist in here like everyone else."

"Good." His jaw clenched, something he did a lot around you, like he didn't want to be talking to you at all and every response pained him. You suspected he didn't know how to treat you, the outlier, and you desperately wanted that to change. "You are part of this team and should be able to do your job, and you're a distraction. I put a stop to it. We can't afford a distraction."

"No." You glanced down the hall to the nearest man, and then back to him before leaning even closer so your faces were mere inches apart. "I don't want to distract them, though." His nostrils flared slightly, indicating he'd caught the double meaning of your words. He turned to look in the same direction you had, really ensuring no one was paying attention then. "It really isn't on purpose. I swear. I'm just trying to get by. Besides, I'm not even supposed to be here. Obviously."

Something in his face softened to a cautious interest. "No, you aren't."

You smiled up at him from beneath your lashes. The alien, sterile walls were foreign enough that you didn't feel quite like yourself. That made you feel bold and so you pushed. "I'm glad I ended up on your shift, at least."

For the first time, he leaned away from you and that hurt. "You could do with being a little less distracted yourself. Your numbers could be better. Your table fell to fifth place today, and I don't like my shift coming in third."

That hurt made a flush of anger rise from your belly. HE was the one distracting you, after all. "Me?! I do better than half of the men in here!"

His eyes narrowed dangerously and his voice became harsh as his supervisor's mask slid into place. "And yet you could do better. You know it. I know it. Now go to your cell."

You gaped at him in shock for a moment, unsure of what you had done to earn such a harsh dismissal, but then you retreated as he turned his back to you. It felt embarrassingly reminiscent of being sent to your room as a child with no dinner. There were tears of rage and wounded pride in your eyes, and you curled up alone on the hard cot, left to lick your wounds until lights out.

Or maybe it had meant nothing, indeed.

The next day a man died.

He'd been sick for a while, his body slowing down and his face growing pale and gaunt. The rest of his table had scrambled to keep up. They still finished last nearly every day, and the repeated shocks were wearing on them. Then he collapsed and was rushed out of the room by Kino and another man, and he never returned. 

You heard the whispers that he'd suffered a fatal heart attack. Probably from all the shocks. He should have had treatment long before then, but no one got treatment until they couldn't work. You weren't people here, you knew. You were numbers and that was all that mattered to the Empire.

Kino was angry for days afterwards. He shouted and hurled instructions as he walked around the room, and not even a new man on the floor to pick up the slack improved his mood. You watched him carefully, followed him with your eyes as he stalked about. He didn't look back.

Your table came in sixth place. The closest you had gotten to the bottom of the rankings those long months. You felt a little guilty for letting your group down, but you knew you could pick up the pace a little the next day to make it up to them.

But Kino cornered you in the locker room after your shift and shouted at you. The rest of the men scrambled out, desperate to avoid drawing his ire as well. He waited until they were gone and then he leveled you with the full force of his outrage.

"What in the hell are you thinking? I told you to stop being distracted!" His raised voice echoed in the empty space—truly empty this time. No one was watching or listening.

So you let your guard down. "I was worried about you!"

In the blink of an eye, he had you pinned to the wall. It wasn't forceful and his grip on your shoulders wasn't tight enough to be painful, but the sudden connection with the wall rattled you. It was also the first time he had touched you. "Me?! You should be worried about yourself!"

That close you saw his bloodshot eyes, the stress lines on his face, and he looked tired despite the anger. You could truly see the man that was under an extreme amount of pressure behind the manager facade. The man you wanted to comfort, and to see more of because he intrigued you desperately. "I'm fine," you responded, your voice careful and reassuring. "You're the one grieving." Your face softened and you reached a hand up to rest on his arm. It fit neatly in the crook of his elbow. "You really care about everyone here, don't you?"

Whatever reaction you were hoping for wasn't the one you received. That anger bubbled further up to the surface and his voice became harsh and low. "What are you playing at? Hmm? What do you want? Are you trying to flirt with me so I'll protect you? Do you think there's anything I can do for you? Look around you! We're all trapped here, including me!"

"No!" You quickly removed your hand, scared that you had overstepped. "I would never—I pull my weight! I work and I don't complain. My table has never come in last the entire time I've been here. I've never even asked for special treatment despite being a woman stuck here with forty eight men!" You were horrified to realize there were hot tears gathering in your eyes, so you reached a hand up, the same one that had just touched him moments before, and wiped angrily at the moisture. "If that's what I wanted, don't you think I would have flirted harder? Offered myself to you?"

He quickly and unconsciously licked his lips as though the idea were appealing, but said nothing. Your eyes were drawn to the wetness left behind, and knew then you had been right. There was something there. Without much thought, you pressed yourself away from the wall and closer to him. You could feel the heat of him radiating through both of your uniforms, the rage and lust rolling off him in equal waves. You knew he was just as prepared to push you aside as he was to grind his hips against you.

You leaned to whisper into his ear. "That's not what I want from you. The offer is there, however. No strings. Just me."

He surged towards your neck. Not to kiss or lick or bite like your body desperately wanted him to, but to bury his nose behind your ear and inhale your scent. His larger hands moved to grip at your hips, and this time it did hurt, but there was an echoing throb between your legs.

"Kino," you moaned.

The sound of his name broke whatever courage he had worked up, and just as quickly as he had been pressed up against you, he was three feet away from you. His uniform was rumpled and there was loss and agony on his face. "No! We can't. This can never happen." He choked. "I'm sorry." And then he ran for the cell block, leaving you confused and hurt, aroused and panting, and alone.

The next day, in your quiet moping and distraction, you weren't as careful as you should have been. Kino had been avoiding you all day. Had even given your table a wide berth. So when one of your fellow inmates—someone from table two, you thought—had snuck up on you and grabbed your arm, it took you a moment to cry out.

He began dragging you to a cell when your instincts kicked in. You thrashed in his grasp, kicked at his legs, and swung your fists at him. A few solid blows landed on his arm and stomach, but it didn't stop him. Just slowed him down. You screamed for help from one of the several men standing around you, watching.

None of them moved. Some looked on with concern and disgust, some with disinterest, but there were more interested faces than you would have hoped for or expected after how hard you had worked to be included. To feel like a member of the team.

You were shoved into a lower cell, your hope and fight beginning to fade, but you were still waiting for him to get closer. Waiting for him to climb on top of you so you could go for his eyes and throat, when there was the sudden pounding of barefooted steps sprinting down the hall. Hands appeared behind your attacker and then he was being pulled away and tossed to the floor. Kino was there with his back to you, body tense with rage, and standing between you and the rest of them.

"Don't you fucking touch her." He hissed at the man on the ground, and then he pointed a finger around at the bystanders. "Any of you! Or I'll kill you."

You should have been grateful. You were grateful, but you'd had this. You didn't want anyone to think that you couldn't save yourself from pieces of shit like him. There was a detached fury beginning to itch below your skin. You climbed out of the cell, body stiff and trembling, and brushed past Kino. He looked at you with shock and confusion, but he made no move to stop you. You took another two steps to stand over the man that had attacked you, and he looked up at you hesitantly.

And then you began to swing your fists at his prone form, each blow aiming for his face and neck. Desperate to hurt him more than he had hurt you, and after so much labor there was power behind each punch. There was a scream of rage, then, and you realized, distantly, it was coming from you. Just as you realized your fists had begun to hurt and there was blood all over. It was splattered on the floor and wall, on your sleeve, and the front of your uniform. But more importantly, the man below you was covered in it. He cried out—meaningless, whimpered apologies and pleas to stop. Finally there was the hand of another inmate grabbing at you, to stop your attack, but you slapped it away as you finally yielded and stood up.

You looked around at all the gaping faces, your chest heaving with exertion and your expression wild. "If any of you fucking touches me ever again, I'll kill you myself." A few nodded their understanding. Several others had the decency to look ashamed and didn't meet your eyes.

Then you turned to face Kino, shaking your hand against the pain that was finally beginning to register as the adrenaline wore off. "Told you that's not what I wanted."

You knew your hair was a mess, and you were sweaty and red-faced, but the expression he gave you was a mixture of awe and want. Anyone looking, and several of the men were, could see it on his face. "I see that." Then without taking his eyes off of you, he yelled out. "On fucking position! All of you, right now!" And then Kino Loy, the Five-Two-D Unit Manager, took over and moved to bark out orders. "Get to your cells!"

The next day you were moved to the top half of his cell. The number on the panel reflected your sentence when you stepped in and you knew he had gone through official channels for it, though you couldn't imagine how that conversation had gone. To the others it was a statement. A warning that you had his support, even if that meant you would beat them bloody.

To you it was an apology.

During your 12-hour shift, you didn't turn to look for him. You didn't have to. He was constantly in your field of vision. Hovering just where you could sense his presence and feel his gaze on you. Every time your eyes met his, you felt a thrill at the way things had shifted between you.

You worked harder that day than you ever had before, even with a sore hand and scraped knuckles. Several of the other men at your table had to push themselves to match your pace, and you snapped at them for slowing you down. A few tables away, the man that had attacked you worked with one eye black and blue, one eye swollen shut, a split lip, a bruised jaw, and what was very likely a broken nose. A visual reminder that kept the muttering about your speed to a minimum.

Your table came in second place, only a few units behind the lead. Your group was exhausted, but the happiest you'd ever seen them. One of them even patted you on the shoulder with a grin. It felt like respect. Finally. Tomorrow you would be first, you promised yourself.

You took your time in the locker room, though. For the first time, you were not rushing out of fear. Even the open shower stall felt different. More relaxing and soothing than a cold, inhospitable necessity. You would still be locked up in there for many more months of hard labor, but you felt as though you finally had some power and agency over your own being. It was intoxicating.

Almost as intoxicating as wondering where Kino was at that moment, while you stood nude and wet under the spray. You realized you had never seen him change or in anything less than a full work uniform. You didn't think you could miss Kino Loy shirtless or ever get the image out of your mind if you had, but you also kept your head down and hurried in and out as quickly as you could before. Done the bare minimum out of self preservation. You imagined what he would look like under the careful layer of his clothing and if you might get to see for yourself one day.

You glanced around the room. A few men quickly looked away and scrambled out of the showers, pulling a thin prison issued towel with them. They were all terrified at being caught looking now. You couldn't help the tiny smirk on your face. Good. There were only a few stragglers left that were, delightedly, paying you no attention, and even they were finishing up and moving towards the exit to get dressed. But no Kino.

You tried to hide your disappointment by facing the wall and reluctantly turning off the faucet. You hadn't truly been waiting for him anyway, so there was no point in doing so now, you told yourself. Plus, it was getting late. When you started wringing the excess water from your hair, there was a voice from the open doorway.

"You're taking a long time."

You jumped, your heart skipping with panic, and instinctively placed your hands over your nudity. Prison was still dangerous, after all, and maybe you had been too careless. But then you quickly recognized the speaker, and, with a laugh, turned to face Kino. "I thought I earned it." Then you stepped out of the stall into the open shower room.

He fought it for a moment, kept his attention on your face, and you thought that was admirable, like everything else about him. But it was only a moment, and then his eyes were trailing down your body like the trails of water still dripping from you onto the metal paneled floor. His gaze lingered over your breasts, hips, and longer still at the mound between your legs. You knew labor had toned you and accentuated the curve of your waist, none of which was obvious in uniform. A fact for which you had been grateful for before, but you also knew it had hidden your body from him. The one man you had wanted to look.

"Yes you have," he said, distracted, and shifted from the doorway to fully face you—and maybe to block the view from the locker room. His face and neck were flushed and you wondered how far down that blush went.

"Did you still need to shower?" You took another step toward him, the distance between you no more than ten feet now, and he looked up at you confused.

"Shower?"

"Yes. The thing I was just doing, and why I'm standing here wet and out of uniform." He sucked in a shaky breath of air and his hand twitched at his side.

"Oh. I suppose I do." He was a wire pulled taught with nerves and lust, and he seemed ready to snap at any moment. That you could reduce such a strong, sober man to this? A man that intrigued you the first time you laid eyes on him? Nothing, you were convinced, could feel more intoxicating—more powerful —than that.

"Mine's free." You innocently stepped to the side.

"I see that." He ran a slightly trembling hand through his hair, which was left tousled, but didn't move any closer.

It was too much too soon, you realized. He may have accepted that you had no interest in the fact that he was the shift manager, but that didn't mean he was ready to jump straight into, well, you. "Sorry," you hunched your shoulders and scampered over to grab a clean towel. "This was rude of me. I should give you some privacy." You had it unfolded and clutched to you by the time he seemed to snap out of his daze.

"Wait!" He took another step into the room, finally beyond the threshold. "Don't feel rushed because of me. You did earn it, after all."

You smiled fondly at him and wrapped the towel around your chest. It was rough and stiff, and smelled strongly of the same disinfectant that clung to every surface there, but it was clean. And more importantly, it was a barrier between you for the moment. "It's okay. I was finished anyway." You looked down at your bare feet to avoid meeting his gaze, feeling suddenly ridiculous. "I want you to know…you finding me still in here? It wasn't intentional. My lack of modesty when you did, though?" You let out a nervous laugh and smiled up at him. "That was hasty improvisation on my part." You tightened the towel farther around your chest. It barely reached your knees. "I just don't know how to navigate this now without rushing into something, I suppose."

He stared at you. The nerves that had been there on his face and in his posture just a minute before had vanished at the shift in your tone. It had relaxed him, like you hoped. "I suppose I don't either. I suppose I'm afraid."

His admission caught you off guard. "What are you afraid of? That we'll get caught by the guards?"

He shook his head with a self deprecating chuckle and took another step closer. "No, though I suppose I should be. But they don't care what goes on in here as long as the work gets done and we stay compliant."

"What, then? What could you be afraid of?"

"You." He said simply.

"Me?" Your brows furrowed in confusion. "Because of what happened yesterday? Because I didn't mean you! You're allowed—"

"No," he interrupted you and moved forward another step. "Because something could happen to you. Not just as a member of my team. To you." You gave him a soft smile and opened your mouth to say something, but he continued. "Because you might see what's under my uniform and change your mind. I'm older than you and I know I'm not much to look at anymore."

You let out a scoff of disbelief before you could stop it. "Not much…Kino Loy, you are many things, but I never took you for an idiot." You loosened the towel from around your body and tossed it to the floor. It likely landed in a puddle, but you didn't care. Now fully nude again, you walked towards him, slowly, giving him a chance to retreat or tell you to stop if he wanted.

He didn't.

By the time you reached him, he was blushing again and his mouth was parted as he stared at you with hunger. "I want to touch and kiss and lick every inch of what is under that uniform. I don't care if you have a slight belly. I don't care that you're older. I don't care that—" You didn't get to finish your sentence because suddenly his mouth was on yours and the relief made you so lightheaded your knees buckled. Then his hands were grabbing your hips, keeping you steady, holding you there so he could slip his tongue into your eager mouth. You wrapped an arm around his neck and placed your other hand on his jaw so you could feel the stubble under your fingertips. Feel the way his muscles shifted as his lips moved against yours.

He kissed you with as much passion and confidence as he had when he stalked around the work floor. He kissed like a man in charge and a man desperate for freedom. He kissed you like you weren't in the shower room of a prison. And just when you had a moment of clarity to consider that you were standing there with him because of a single clerical error, he moved his hands to your thighs and hoisted you off the ground. You gasped into his mouth from the shock, and he walked you back—with ease, you noted—into your recently used shower stall. Your bare skin met the still wet tile with a soft slap.

Before you could register the cold, he pressed himself against you. The bulge of his arousal was suddenly very obvious as it was pinned against your thigh. You moaned at the sensation, which finally broke the kiss, and tried to grind your hips onto him, desperately seeking any kind of friction. Then he once again buried his face into your neck, but this time he kissed and licked along every bit of damp skin he could reach.

"We don't have time to do everything I want to do to you." His gravelly voice was muffled against your neck. "Probably fifteen minutes now, at most."

You pushed on his shoulder, forcing him to look at you. "Then you'd better finally take your clothes off."

He nodded absent mindedly as he set you down. His hands went to the hem of his shirt and he began to tug it up and over his head. The second there was bare skin, your hands were on him, groping and mapping your way across his body. He wasn't thin and corded with rippling muscles. You hadn't expected or wanted him to be. He had a soft belly, thick chest and arms, and under that was hard muscle from long working hours. He was warm and solid beneath your palms. The hair on his chest was starting to grey, and it led a messy trail down his stomach. You felt a swell of arousal between your legs as you ran your fingers through it, and you groaned loudly in the empty room.

You looked up into his face and opened your mouth to say something. To reassure him, to tell him how sexy he was, that you had never been so turned on. All true things. But the words died in your throat. Instead you slipped a finger into the waistband of his pants and said, "Pants. Now."

You stepped backwards to give him some room as he scrambled to push them down—and also to see what else he uncovered. His legs were just as sturdy as his arms, but you could see the curves of muscle in his thighs and calves. He was strong, and the thought of what he could do to you, only with your consent, made you whimper. His erection was thick—the entire length a flushed, deep red and the head was already leaking with anticipation.

Gazing over his entire body, you noted every inch of it suited him perfectly. Your very first observation of him was correct: He was, indeed, very fucking attractive. But he was shifting self-consciously before you, so you reached out and grasped him with your hand, and gave his length a few long, torturous strokes. Felt him twitch and throb in your grip. You were rewarded with a strangled, "fuck!"

You licked your lips and had to remind yourself that you didn't have time to fall to your knees and take him into your mouth. To feel his fingers tangled in your hair and tugging as you worked the swollen head with your tongue. To taste him and hear him moaning above you. That would, hopefully, come later. Though the thought would also keep you company later that night in your cell. The one directly above his, you remembered. 

"Kino Loy, you are what I want." You leaned close so that your lips were almost touching the shell of his ear. "But right now I need you to fuck me."

With a growl, you were once again lifted off of the floor and along the wall. He only stopped to adjust so your legs were hooked over his arms, giving you both leverage and leaving you spread open for him. You half expected him to fill you in one forceful plunge, but instead he pressed himself against your folds and thrust against you, coating himself in your wetness and giving you that delicious friction you so desperately wanted.

You both watched in awe and disbelief at where you were touching and sliding together, like you couldn't believe you could have this because the world had been cruel up to that point. The slick sound was filthy in the empty room. He shifted the angle, which put more pressure on your bundle of nerves, and you let out a sob of approval.

He kept up the movement until your legs began to tremble uncontrollably as the tension built inside of you. You were on that precipice of delirium, so close to the edge. So when another dribble of precome leaked from the head of his cock and, with his next thrust, was dragged along your slit, your body stiffened—preparing for that free fall into rapture—and then you were gone. Lost in the wake of your orgasm, drowning in the waves that rolled from your belly, down your legs, and to your toes. Your hips bucked against him of their own accord, each rub of your clit sending one more ripple of pleasure through you.

Only when you were begging, saying his name over and over again like a mantra, did he straighten himself with his hand, line up against your entrance, and finally—finally—fill you completely.

If anyone was standing nearby in the hallway, they definitely heard his satisfied groan and your cry of relief. He stayed there for a few seconds to adjust, fully sheathed inside of you, and feeling you pulse aftershocks around him. He placed a few breathless kisses along your cheek and jaw. But then all pretense of gentleness and patience were gone and he began to fuck you so hard, your back slid a few inches along the slippery wall every time his hips met yours.

He growled obscenities into your hair as he continued to thrust into you. Told you how good you felt and how badly he had wanted this, wanted you, for months. That you were his. That every moment he wasn't buried inside of you didn't matter anymore.

He told you that he wanted to fuck you against every surface in that godforsaken place. That the second he laid eyes on you, he should have scooped you up, taken you to the locker room, and buried his face between your legs until you screamed and came on his tongue. He wanted you on your hands and knees and on display in front of him. He wanted you in his lap and riding his cock. He wanted to tie you up until you begged and then make you come so many times that it drove you mad. He wanted you to choke on him as he fucked your throat.

He whispered until your head was full of so many filthy thoughts and images that you were dizzy with them. Other than finally getting out of there, it was the only hope you had for the future. Him. His stern look. His gruff voice. The punishing grip he had on your thigh and the bruise blossoming on your neck. The gaze that found you in a crowded room. The promise of something more than shifts and standing on program. The thought that there may finally be something worth waiting for when you got out.

His breathing began to change, his hips were more sporadic, and you knew he was close. You put your hands on either side of his face and directed him until he was staring into your eyes. Then you poured every ounce of lust, want, and affection you had for him into your gaze. "Look at me, Kino. I want to see your face when you come inside of me. Please."

That was all it took. He was still for a heartbeat before his face scrunched in agony, as though you were ripping his orgasm from him. Then his expression went slack and his eyes fluttered closed with a long moan. He pumped a last unbalanced rhythm inside of you, seeking to bury himself as far into you as he could, like he couldn't get deep enough. Until he finally collapsed against you, satiated and spent.

You kissed his sweaty forehead and his damp hair as he clung to you. "You're so fucking incredible," you whispered into his temple. "And I haven't changed my mind one bit." With a playful slap at his shoulder you added a low, "Idiot."

He looked up at you with a goofy grin, still panting, and sluggishly unhooked your wobbly legs to set your feet down to the floor. You balanced yourself with your hands on his chest, and then leaned into his arm. Once steady, you lightly traced your fingertips over his sternum and thought again about just how fucking hot he was. Even as exhausted as you were, you could spend another hour just touching him.

He opened his mouth to say something in return, when the two minute warning buzzer went off. It was nearly deafening in the small space. You both looked at each other in shock, and then you were a flurry of motion, grabbing for towels and clothing. You scrambled to get dressed knowing you were nearly out of time to line up.

Out in the hallway, your hair was still very damp, his uniform was soaked from the stall floor even though he still hadn't gotten a shower, and his release dribbled down your inner thigh beneath your pants. And no one would look at the two of you. His face was stoic—the shift manager mask firmly in place, despite his tousled hair and almost ridiculous appearance, but you knew you looked smug enough for the both of you.

You didn't really care that the rest of the men knew. In fact, it was probably better that they did so you didn't have to sneak around, which was very difficult in your current environment. You only had to be respectful. You also wanted to prove to them that you could fuck the shift manager and still pull your weight, whether that was putting the numbers up at your table or throwing a punch. Being full of his come didn't change that. You didn't have his protection because you didn't want it.

You only wanted him. No strings.

And if you peeked your head over the edge of the divider in your cell, and he sat below you, and you whispered to each other in your free time. Or if you both stayed late in the showers or snuck off to the maintenance closet, that was your business.

As the line moved, you wondered if it might be appropriate to send an incompetent Imperial paper pusher an anonymous fruit basket on the other side.

Chapter 2 ->

#kino loy #wants needs and clerical errors #kino loy x reader #kino loy x f!reader #andor #andor fanfiction #fanfiction #posting from ao3 #andy serkis

[minty-mumbles]

'Tis a Fearful Thing (Ch. 2)

Summary: The Shrine of Resurrection was built to revive the Hero of Courage, should he ever fall in battle against the Calamity. It existed for thousands of years before it was used for the first time. No one expected to ever see it used again.

Or: Wild makes a ethically questionable decision, and has to deal with the outcome

TW: Descriptions of a dead body

(Read on AO3)

~~~

It was supposed to be an easy fight. 

Perhaps that was why Wind was dead. Even a fight against an enemy far weaker than you could turn deadly if you didn't take it seriously. Even the weakest monster could slam an ax into your undefended back if you weren’t careful. Even the weakest monster could tear your undefended throat out if you were thrown to the ground.

And WiId had been the one who told them all that the fight would be easy.

Wild had seen dead bodies before, not least of which were the rotted corpses of the Champions after he’d banished the malice that had possessed them and turned them into blights. That had been a horrific sight, but Wild had saved the worst of it by not having many memories of when the Champions had been full of life. 

This was different. Wild didn’t remember much about the Champions. All he had of them were a few memories- and in Revali’s case, some of them were bad memories. Wild knew he had loved the other champions, but he didn’t feel any of the emotions attached to that knowledge. All that was left after the Shrine was a distant sort of affection.

But this body was different. 

This was Wind’s body. The body of a child. Wind’s personality was larger than life, so much so it was easy to forget how physically small he was. It took no effort for Wild to prop the sailor up. The back of the blue tunic Wind wore was blue no longer, the entire thing soaked through with scarlet blood. Through a large tear in the fabric, Wild could barely make out a gaping wound, the source of most of the blood. 

‘That’s right,’ Wild thought distantly, ‘the bokoblin had been carrying an ax.’ 

A simple ax. That was all it took to take down the Hero of the Winds. Tears coursed down Wild’s cheeks as he slowly laid the body back down to the ground. 

Wind deserved a better end. He deserved to live until he was old and his bones were creaky. He deserved to die peacefully surrounded by loved ones. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve this lonely, violent death.

Wild picked the body back up, easily cradling it against his chest. The Champion’s eyes were nearly as lifelsss as Wind eyes were as he stared ahead at nothing. 

Wild felt sick. He wished he hadn’t lowered the other heroes’ guards by saying the Plateau was safe. He wished he’d found Wind sooner. Maybe he could have stopped this. 

How long had Wind laid here in agony, waiting to die? Had the sailor called out for Wild? Had he screamed? Had Wild heard the call, but thought it was the death cry of some monster and ignored it?

Wild choked on his tears. 

Oh please, Hylia, not Wind. Not one of his brothers. He would give anything, do anything, face the calamity a hundred times over. Please, goddess, please… 

Wild didn’t know if he was speaking aloud, or if his desperate prayers to the goddess were spoken in his head only. He didn’t know why he was bothering to pray at all. The goddess did not bring people back to life. 

Death was final. There was no escaping once the darkness of death had fallen over your eyes. 

It had never yielded for anyone, except for Wild. 

Wild seized upon the thought.

The Shrine of Resurrection could bring people back from the dead. There were consequences to using it. Memory loss and a hundred years spent in stasis while the world moved on and forgot you. Being put in the Shrine meant that you were born anew. 

It was also Wild’s only hope of ever seeing Wind alive again.

Looking back on it later, Wild wouldn’t remember making the conscious decision to take Wind to the shrine. He only remembers running faster than he had ever run in his life with Wind’s body clutched tightly to his chest. 

He remembers ducking his head and shielding Wind’s body from the vines and branches that tore at them as Wild raced through the Forest of Spirits. 

He remembers scrambling up the slope to the Shrine, past the fire pit under the overhang that used to belong to the old man.

He remembers the sudden coolness that washed over him as he entered the Shrine and the shade the cave provided. 

The impact on his knees as he jumped down from the ledge at the Shrine’s entrance is what finally jolted him out of his daze, the world snapping back to startling clarity. He couldn’t roll to absorb the fall- not with Wind still cradled in his arms- so he stumbled and pushed through it.

And then, in no time at all, Wild was in the main room of the Shrine, a place he hadn’t stepped foot in since he’d left it the first time. 

He pushed away the bad memories that threatened to overwhelm him. He was here for a reason.

Wild hesitated before putting Wind in the shrine. Was he sure he wanted to do this? There would be consequences. There were always consequences to cheating death. (That was if the Shrine would even work on Wind.)

But Wild had to. If there was even a chance that Wind could continue living, then he had to take it.

Wild lowered Wind’s body into the shrine, but hesitated again, for a different reason. Wild had been mostly devoid of clothing when he had woken from the shrine. Would it impede the function of the shrine if WInd had all his clothes on? 

With no time to second guess himself, Wild set about stripping Wind out of his tunic. He would leave the pants on- Wind was only injured on his neck and chest as far as Wild could see.

The cloth stuck to Wind’s skin, and peeling it away left the skin as bloody as the shirt was. It would probably be easier to cut Wind out of the shirt, but he would never forgive Wild if he ruined Wind’s favorite tunic.

Handling a dead body like this was revolting. This used to be a person. This used to be Wind. And now it wasn’t. It was just meat, and Wild was manhandling it.

Then Wild felt bad for thinking like that. It might be a body, but it was still Wind’s body. 

Finally, the tunic was off and discarded on the floor, and Wind was laid down in the Shrine. Wild took an extra second to arrange Wind’s limbs so it looked like he was laying comfortably, and not sprawled haphazardly. 

One more second spared to take in one last sight of Wind’s body, and then Wild placed his hands on the lid of the Shrine, pushing it closed. The lid of the Shrine creaked slightly as he lowered it from the ceiling, but descended easily.

He watched mumbly as Wind’s body disappeared from view, consigned to oblivion. There was a soft hiss as the lid sealed around the basin. Wild waited for a moment, wondering if there would be a sign that the Shrine was working. 

Then- yes, Wild remembered. The slate had been set in the pedestal while he had healed, hadn’t it? Backing up slowly, not turning away from the Shrine, Wild unclipped the slate from his belt and held it out to the pedestal behind him. Familiar clicks told him the pedestal had accepted the slate.

Wild’s hand slipped from the pedestal as the entire Shrine lit up, energy coursing through it as it started the long process of stitching Wind's body back together.

How long would it take, Wild wondered. A hundred years? Less? More? Would he be dead and gone by the time the tomb opened? Would there be anyone there to help Wind take his first stumbling steps? 

How much would the sailor remember? How much would he have changed? Wild knew he himself was a completely different person from the stoic knight he had been before. Would Wind also lose himself?

Wild continued to watch the pulsing light of the Shrine, wondering what fate he had doomed the sailor to. The stumbling entrance of the other heroes wasn’t enough to break him from his daze.

“Wild, what did you do?” The pure fear in Twilight’s voice reflected the horror that was starting to grow in the pit of Wild’s stomach.

The question echoed in his mind. 

What had he done?

#mint's fanfiction #linked universe #lu wild #lu wind #lu wild angst #lu wind angst #lu fanfiction #death tw #dead body tw #blood

[riordanness]

just a man — [e.pevensie x oc vampire!au]

wordcount: 2.6K

warnings: vampires, dark themes

requested: no

a/n: this was literally a school project like three years ago when i was deep in my narnia phase so i turned it into a mortal!edmund x fem!oc in a vampire!au fic to make it more fun to write)

tags: @ornellastreet ,, @honey-ambrosia

The man stands, still as a statue against the wind, which blows against his back. At his front, the cold, darkly coloured beach lies, empty and lifeless. The wind picks up, rustling the man's dark hair, and shifting through his black, tightly-fitting clothes. The man's richly coloured brown eyes gaze over the beach, the quietness and serenity comforting him. This was all he needed. Peace. Quiet. Silence. Just him and himself, alone.

The man, who is known only as ‘Ed P’, takes a deep breath, inhaling the cool, stale air. His stature is tall, broad shouldered. Ed’s stern expression showcases his disposition. The cold, stern, and haughty man was known for being selfish and unkind, sarcastic and hateful towards everyone.

The man turns, and walks briskly along a winding path, through the trees at the edge of the sand, and towards the stone house a few hundred metres away. He lives alone, in a tall, darkly coloured manor. The house is large, empty, lifeless, and silent.

People say he was not always the way he is now. They say he was once a kind man. Things changed when the man’s father was mysteriously murdered. No one can find out the true story behind his death, but ever since, Ed has been cold, drawing into himself.

Only a scarce few know the secret. None will let the words past their lips, the horrifying truth too terrifying to share. The truth, they say, is often better untold.

Nadia stares at her reflection in the small, cracked mirror, her auburn hair fluttering lightly to her waist, bright grey eyes shimmering in the sunlight, which flows in from only one, tiny window. There’s a slight possibility that she could escape through it, but it’s not likely. Whoever has trapped her in here wouldn’t have left such an easy escape. Not that she can escape through it anyway. The window is hundreds of metres from the ground, a deadly fall.

Nadia’s slight form trembles, her torso shaking. The wind surrounding the tower she’s entrapped in begins to howl, the freezing temperature causing goosebumps to raise on her bare arms.

Only a few days ago, her life had been just fine. She lived with her parents, working in the bakery with her family, teaching the younger girls in the village to bake in her free time. Then, in one, sudden moment, her world had shattered into a thousand pieces.

She had been on a walk, through the deepest parts of the woods behind her house. Her dress had been fluttering around her legs, her hair awhirl. Her left foot, she remembered, had accidentally snapped a twig, and with a surprising swish! a large man had jumped out in front of her, a black cloak wrapping around her, and her world faded into pitch darkness.

She’d woken up in here, in a small, circular tower, the only door locked, and the only window far too high up. There wasn’t any way to escape, not that she knew of. She didn’t even know who her captor was. Just some strange . . . humanoid figure.

The grotesque features of the figure in the mirror crease into a horrific smile. A maniacal laugh pours out of it, the sound echoing off the stone walls. The creature’s face is pale, with blood red eyes, flashing with fire and hate.

Clutched in the creature’s hand, a small, black piece of chain. This never left the creature’s grasp, as it controlled it’s life. Once that piece of chain left its body, the creature would collapse, vanishing from the face of the Earth. The chain wraps around the wrist of the creature, tied securely, for fear of being lost.

Lord Hunter, the creature called himself. Barely is he spotted out of his castle. Wearing a dark cloak, wrapped in a black scarf, with a little black top hat, the creature would occasionally slip out into the real world, and blend in with the humans. He would act as a male human, get what supplies he needed, and retreat back to the castle.

Lord Hunter was usually completely alone, except for the few times he had a victim. A woman, girl, or any female human in general. He would take her captive, lock her up for approximately a week, then devour her blood, transforming her into a creature like himself.

Now, Lord Hunter had a newly retrieved victim. A beautiful young woman, with chocolate hair to her waist, perfect features, a flawless complexion, and stunning grey eyes. Nadia, they call her. And soon, she would be gone, like the dozens of beautiful young girls who came before her. Vanished without a trace, impossible for anyone, including the authorities, to find.

Ed trudges along the dirt road, hands shoved deep into his pockets, a long, dark coat covering most of his body. The freezing weather cuts into the exposed skin on his face and neck. Icy cold wind bites into his nose, making him shiver.

Noises surround the silent man, animals scampering, birds singing and chirping, trees rustling in the breeze.

Ed ignores all the sounds, lost in his thoughts, as he always is. Suddenly, pain sears his mind, white flashing before his eyes. His head pounds, the pain so bad it felt as if his brain was splitting into two. The man falls to his knees, holding his aching head between his palms, as if trying to squeeze the pain away.

The world is tilting, white and black flashes alternating in his vision. The world begins to fade, slowly slipping into darkness.

Nadia stares into the horrifying face of the creature before her. Vampire, she thinks. She’s never seen one before, but that word immediately came into her mind when she first spied the grotesquely pale face, blood red eyes, filled with fiery hatred, dark, loose clothing, and a raspy, metallic voice.

“What do you want with me?” She asks, a tremble in her voice, her body shaking with fear. She mustn’t show it, however, mustn’t show how terrified of this creature she truly was. Nadia knows she has to be brave, keep calm. Think of a way to escape.

“I want,” the creature says, it’s voice vaguely masculine, but definitely not human, “you to be my slave.” There’s a little spark in it’s eyes, the fire growing stunningly brighter for a moment.

“Why?” Nadia demands, her fists clenching. She silently thanks her lucky stars for how her voice stays steady, and there’s no trace of a tremble in it.

The vampire’s lips part in a diabolical cackling laugh, which sends shivers down Nadia’s spine. No words are given to her in response, however.

Ed’s dark eyes slowly flutter open. All he sees is the open sky, with trees fringing the edges of his vision. The man tries to stand, his legs shaky, images swimming in and out, dizzying him.

The time of day wasn’t immediately clear to Ed, but after a few seconds, he regains his steadiness, and begins to focus more fully on his surroundings. He’s still in the woods, standing in the middle of the dirt path. Evidently, nothing happened to him after that . . . incident. No lady found him lying there, either. Ed still has no clue what happened before he passed out, except for the blinding agonising pain he had felt. The pain has now vanished, for which Ed is extremely glad.

He begins down the path once more, heading for his stone manor. Once there, however, he decides to continue toward the village. Not totally sure why, he keeps trudging down the road. He isn’t out of food, or any other supplies, so why did he have this sudden feeling to go to the village?

In the village, there’s noise everywhere. Exactly what Ed hates most. Noise, people. The evening market had just begun, so there were more people in the main square than there usually are. Women calling out for him to buy their wares, men shouting over money, children shrieking and running around people’s legs.

Ed squeezes through the crowd, and stops beside a tiny stall, occupied by only one, frail, old woman, who sits at a spinning wheel, busily spinning fleece into wool. He stares at her for a moment, then a strange feeling comes over him.

White flashes before his eyes, and for a moment, he fears that a similar incident that happened earlier was about to occur once again. He’s surprised when that is not what happens. Instead of pain, a tingling sensation flows through his veins, not painful, but almost pleasant. Visions begin to come into focus. He sees the village, the old woman spinning, he himself standing there, watching. Then time speeds up. He sees the old woman’s hands slip, her fingers getting trapped inside the wheel, causing the old woman to fall to the ground. Her head smacks against the hard, stony ground, hitting a big rock, and suddenly, due to her frail state, she cannot survive the hard fall and hit to the head, and is evidently dead.

Ed blinks, the ominous visions vanishing from his mind. The old woman still spins merrily, not even noticing his presence. The man slowly backs away a little, trying to merge back into the bustling crowds. Just before he slips fully into the crowd, he sees one last thing. The woman’s fingers slip, getting trapped into the still spinning wheel, and she falls, hitting her head on the large rock.

An involuntary gasp rises from the man’s throat, coming out strangled and horrified. He turns and rushes away, his thoughts cloudy. He hears shouts of “Look! Help her!” from the crowd, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps running, right up until he reaches the front gate of his manor. He stumbles to a stop, leaning heavily against the low stone wall lining the edge of his front yard.

What had he just witnessed? Ed’s mind was reeling. He’d just . . . seen the death of that old woman before it really occurred. None of this was possible, but the realisation of the truth was smacking him in the face, metaphorically. He’d just . . . predicted death. Somehow, in some impossible way, it was the truth.

Nadia’s hands shake, exhaustion causing her head to spin. Weariness is making her feel extremely dizzy, and she can barely stand. Her body sways as she gazes over the kitchen, dozens of piles of dirty dishes all over the benches, sinks, and chairs. Everything must be spotless by morning, the vampire creature had instructed her earlier. “Or else,” he’d added, his eyes shimmering with pure evil.

Nadia collapses into a small, unstable wooden chair, it’s legs uneven on the hard floor, making it tilt precariously. Her head throbs horribly, and her body is slowly slipping into sleep on its own.

She forces herself to stand, and walk over to the stone bench top, her steps staggered and uneven. She had to get out. She had to escape.

The man’s head spins, reeling from the strangeness of the past few hours. He knows something happened, something that had to do with the blinding pain, which caused him to fall unconscious earlier. He’d somehow managed to see the future, which predicted the death of that old lady.

Ed shakes himself, trying to focus on something other than the vision he’d experienced. He knew it wasn’t good, at least, it wasn’t not bad, but not particularly good, either.

Ed gazes out at the rolling green meadows, which surround his mansion. In the distance, he can see the village, along with the strange, abandoned manor, a few hundred metres away from where he stands, in his living room. It’s tall, darkly coloured stone walls rise high, with hardly a window in sight. Supposedly, the mansion is haunted, or lived in by a terrible creature, whichever you decide to believe in. Ed believed neither story.

A sudden movement catches his eye. A flash of black, passing one of the smallest, tiniest windows in the mansion. It’s only there for an instant, but Ed swears he sees a face. A ghostly, humanoid creature. Then, it vanishes. Ed glances unsurely at the house, then closes the dark curtains, shutting out the sight of the outside world.

The next morning, at about sunrise, Ed was walking down to the beach, like he did every morning. The cool air was sharp and icy, biting at his exposed nose. The dark haired man stares at the water, the softly folding waves crashing gently against the sand. He breathes deeply, the serenity calming his nerves.

He turns, and walks slowly up the small, winding path, trudging along the cobbled stones. On the way, a short man passes him, his head poking out of a long trench coat. Small wisps of greying hair cover his head, and icy blue eyes pierce into Ed’s brown ones.

“Good morning, sir,” the short man says breezily, his voice cool, slow, and quiet. Ed nods in a simple reply. “Good day to you, as well, sir,” he answers.

“It is a good day, is it not?” The man gazes up at the sun, which is just breaking the horizon, a mix of rosy red, gold, and bright pink colours shining over the lightening sky.

“Yes,” Ed says stiffly, trying to avoid talking too much more. Conversation has never been his strong point. He prefers to lead a purely solitary life.

The man nods at him, then, with a flash, and a sharp sound that reminded Ed of thunder, only tripled in volume, and quickened to barely a millisecond, the man vanishes. One moment he was standing there, right in front of Ed, then, the air seemed to ripple around him, moving and bending as if it were curtains, rustling in the soft breeze. The old man was simply gone.

Ed starts, the shock of what just happened causing his heart to race, pumping heavily in his chest. He stumbles backwards, his arms flailing, trying to grasp onto anything, anything at all. Fear grips him like a tight hand, holding onto his heart as if it was it’s lifeline. Shudders run through Ed, as he squeezes his eyes shut tight. He tries to calm down, to slow his breathing, but the task is difficult.

Ed forces his eyes open, staring at the air, the place where the man had been. Had he ever even been there, or was he simply a figment of Ed’s nonexistent imagination? The man was not sure, and wasn’t sure he even wanted to know.

Turning, he begins up the path once more. But, as he walks steadily up the steep slope, the rocks underneath his feet making soft little scattering noises as his shoes brush against them, he notices something strange happening. He does not seem to be getting any closer to his mansion. The familiar track leading to his house appears to be repeating itself, the notable landmarks appearing again and again. The old oak tree, the large rock formation (which reminded Ed of a giant strawberry), and the paddock of grasses, are all repeating, like a weird, twisted sort of pattern.

Ed stops, confused, angry, and tired. He stares at the oak tree, the one which has burn marks all up its trunk, from the bushfires a few years back. He is sure there’s only one of these oak trees on the path from the beach to his manor. Yet, as it seems, it’s appeared on the side of the path he’s walking on three times over, in about ten minutes. That’s not normal, or even possible.

#edmund pevensie #writing #dark writing #fanfiction #school projects #my writing

[pendarling]

Traps

Hunter x Dragon

They'd never dealt with Dragons before, especially beasts of the night being so actively hunted as a sport.

Black-winged monsters like this could sell up to a thousand gold coins and an acre of land. Hunter shook the thought from their head and set down the bowl of stew on the wooden coffee table next to the hybrid being.

"Uh... it's a little hot." Hunter softly spoke. Their eyes gathered the courage to take a better look at the scrapes and cuts lining up along their leather-like wings. They were an enormous pair that took up a lot of space in the living room, but they had to do everything possible to accommodate them.

"Thank you..." They replied after taking the bowl to their hands. Their nails- no- claws were a sharp black colour as well. This person was definitely not like this world at all.

When Hunter had left this morning to check the forest behind their home, they didn't expect to find a rare obsidian dragon caught in their traps. The only reason why they’d spent all week outside was to capture those pesky badgers and foxes that worked against them all month.

But this?

Hunter sat on the chair across from them, "so, how long have you been living there? In the forest, I mean..."

Dark sets of coal eyes coldly glazed over at them. Hunter shivered in their seat and rubbed their palms against their thighs from the sweat.

"I was living for maybe six years." they croaked. God, their voice sounded awful. Hunter wondered what might've happened to it but didn't push the question yet. The dragon hybrid took a sip from the broth, savouring the taste and texture. After an achingly long moment, the dragon put down the bowl, and for a moment, Hunter thought they caught a glimpse of their face. With all that happened, they didn't have the chance to even glance in their direction, "I originally came from the northern territories, but after an ordeal with the humans..." they trailed off and looked down at their scars.

Hunter felt an uncomfortable silence take over the room. Yet, their eyes couldn't peel away from them at all. It was just too surreal to be sitting in the same room with an almost mythical being.

"So, when are you going to kill me?"

Hunter choked on air and stared wide-eyed. "W-what? Kill? I don't—"

"Well, you're a hunter. How are you going to make a living?"

"Okay, but I hunt for animals like deer— I'm not a murderer, and besides…." Hunter stared into their walls, searching for the words, "I already know you. It's just… morally and ethically wrong."

The dragon hummed with amusement and tilted their head in one direction.

Hunter had flinched underneath their gaze but couldn't deny that this wasn't some ordinary beast. This dragon had stunning skin texture that blended their scales so well, starkly contrasting their bright thick wool blankets with a silent glare in their surrounding area. They wondered if all black dragons had that effect or if it was just this one.

Nonetheless, Hunter couldn't be found with one of these in tow. They'd have to hide them.

"And anyway, you shouldn't be here. After I get you all healed up, I'll…" They waved at the door behind them.

"You've set quite a lot of traps in your yard; did you know that?" They readjusted their sitting position on the couch until Hunter could clearly see their foot. It was tied firmly with layers of bandages to keep the blood in. But it was clear that it would need to be changed again soon.

"Does it still hurt?"

"What? Are you worried about me?"

"Of course, I'm worried about you. You're injured!"

The dragon smiled softly at them, and a warm sensation grew in their chest. For the hybrid, it wasn't just how Hunter looked at them concerned, but also how they spoke. The dragon couldn't recall a moment when humans were this friendly before. Many horrific stories were shared in their childhood, so when they had been caught in one of the beartraps scattered on the ground, the dragon was sure they would be killed. Yet, here they were comfortable.

They noticed Hunter shift silently in their position; a large portion of their home was littered with weapons of all kinds, but ironically enough, they felt safest here than alone.

"Obsidean-type dragons heal faster than average, I guess," they shrugged. Hunter licked their lips and nodded carefully, almost fearing they would flinch at their every movement. “My name’s Dragon,” they guessed it was about time their host knew their name.

“Hunter.” They felt relieved when Dragon assured them of their capabilities. Still, they were determined to keep the dragon a secret from the rest of town.

“I can't have you stay here for too long." they stood up, their heavy boots creaking along the wooden boards beneath them, "I'll have you out of here by the end of this week, fair?"

"Of course."

Hunter left back into their room. Dragon lay down against the sheets, their eyes staring distantly at the smouldering flames of the fireplace. It had been a long time since they'd talked about their home, but it was all left in the ruins of the shelled castles and greying fields.

Hunter was new. Something different and bright.

Dragon tucked their head in further to the blankets; it smelt of cinnamon and fresh cloves. They wondered if Hunter was living alone, too, looking for some companionship out here in the dense trees. The subsequent settlement was just down the stream, it seemed so close, but the cabin felt isolated. Maybe just enough to kill them.

Dragon paused to take another look at the bandages on their foot, reminding themselves of Hunter's kindness.

No. They wouldn't do that. If Hunter had really been evil, they would've taken their chances at the forest floors.

The thoughts rummaged in their head as Dragon fell into a dizzying sleep.

Part 2 >

Part 3 >> (End)

~~~

MASTERLIST

#Hunter x dragon #writing prompt #writing #writingblr #fluff prompt #pining prompts #friends to lovers

[inkwell-and-dagger]

HEY!!!

This contains kinda heavy gore, thanatophobia / athazagoraphobia and heavy HEAVY descriptions of a rotting corpse, so please watch out!! also this is NOT CANON to Forsaken Souls so don't worry our boy isn't dead; it's based on a prompt by my lovely mutual, @er0s-1s-whump1ng / @4sh-th3-f4e!! also! Vanté, Vesker and Vayel (V trio real) belong to him as well :3

—> —> —> —> —> —>

Rayan didn't have a clue why everyone was ignoring him.

First it was Vanté, then his kids, then Maddie, and now Vesker and his own son. He'd been wandering mindlessly for hours now, hoping that anybody — he didn't care who at this rate — would notice him, or even look at him. He didn't care how he wanted someone to acknowledge him; he just wanted to soothe that nagging thought tugging in the back of his mind, screaming that something was horribly wrong.

All attempts were, to his dismay, futile.

They were acting like he was dead; which, obviously, was impossible. He was immortal. Immortals can't die. Sure, he's experienced something like what he could assume death was before, but he'd always woken up the next day. Right? So he wasn't dead.

...Right?

"This is ridiculous," Rayan grumbled beneath his breath in an exasperated tone. The trees towering overhead were a maze of brown bark and emerald leaves as he reluctantly trudged to the last place he remembered being in pain at; Madir's little cabin, shrouded in the woods. He recalled that, somehow, Foster had gotten irritated at him and had called Madir to take Rayan and "deal with him", to which Madir enthusiastically agreed. Being sent to Madir's cabin was like a death sentence.

He'd made his escape that night when Madir was asleep, having broken a window in the process; so it was no surprise, in the early dawn, that the man had not woken yet and the broken window served as an entry way for Rayan.

He slipped inside with ease, hastily walking to the attic; he had no intention to be here long. The closer he got upstairs, the more dread settled in the pit of his stomach as he prayed Madir wouldn't wake up at his footsteps and the creaking of the staircase.

Thankfully, though, as always, the ladder leaned onto the wall was stable enough for Rayan to climb up. A blanket of a distinct, unnerving smell lay in the air; an almost metallic smell, alongside rotting meat.

(gore / corpse CW)

Rayan stopped at the last step, face paling as his stomach dropped. He was looking at himself, but... dead. His head lolled to one side, skin turning a slight bruised purple colour; crimson liquid pooling around the stiff, frigid body of Rayan Hyacinth. Gashes across his body, down his skin and soaking his pathetic excuse for a shirt, Rayan figured blood loss had caused this. The inmortal like throwing up at the sight; he'd been dead for a couple hours, it seemed.

Rayan had seen and experienced a lot of horrific things in his days — from walking in on his own partner with a knife hilt-deep in his chest to having his own leg sawed off by Madir — but this? This was unlike anything he'd ever seen. The bruised, battered, and rotting corpse of his own body, while he stood staring at it paces away.

(end of CW)

It all made sense now. He wasn't being ignored. He was dead; which was impossible, given he was immortal. How did it happen? Why did it happen?

Rayan prayed this was just some sick nightmare, as he half fell down the stairs again and stumbled out of the building, eyes — clouded and dull with a thousand and one troubles — transfixed on the ground beneath him.

Was this a situation similar to Vayel's? Was his immortality taken away, like his was? How did it happen? Why did it happen?

Why did it happen to him? What did he do? He was improving. He could improve. He was becoming a better person, slowly but surely. Was this a punishment for his— no, for Cora's actions? Rayan didn't know.

With a low, choked-up sob, he sank down the nearest tree; his leg was trembling too much anyway, and everything seemed heavy and quite frankly he wanted to throw up.

He was dead. Gone. And not even his own husband, or his sister, or his own son knew it yet.

—> —> —> —> —> —>

Forsaken Souls Taglist WOOOOHOOOOO LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!: @kira-the-whump-enthusiast!!!

#this has NOT been proofread 💀‼️ #whump #oc whump #whump oc #whump writing #writing #oc writing #immortal whumpee #tw death #tw gore #tw corpse #captive whumpee #whump community #whump drabble #whumpee #rayan hyacinth #How To Kill An Immortal

[erzsebetrosztoczy]

Hey there :) are you currently accepting writing requests and if you are, can we request any Valhalla character 💙

Hello there! Yes I am open for requests - tho my writing speed won't be super fast in the upcoming two month (in december but mostly in january).

Pairing: Ivarr × f!reader

Words: ~ 1400

Genre: angst, fluff

Wanrings: an itty-bitty tiny smut, mention of violence, angst mostly? Idk what i did here honestly

Summary: You and Ivarr are preparing for an upcoming battle.

Notes: it's a bit short, I only had time to write this between my exams sorry⚰️✌️

Your heart sank deeper, pulling it tighter and tighter with the cold strings of the uncertain future, as the more horrific images floated before your eyes every time you dared to close them.

The camp around you was preparing unusually quietly, nowhere to be found the previous night's amusement, drinking and singing, which made the forest roar with life.

The army of thousands of troops that the Ragnarssons had was preparing for the upcoming battle in deathly silence. Grim men were putting their helmets on, sharpening their blades - sparks flaring up now and then, lighting up their dread faces. Staring in front of themselves - they did their work rotely — that either saved them on the battlefield, or betrayed them, finally being able to rest in the halls of Valhalla at the end of their long journey.

You weren’t much different from the men around you. You had the same flesh, the same warm blood flowed in your veins as your fellow warriors. Your bone breaks the same way and your blood spills when the blade strikes. The light in your eyes can die out just as for the other person beside you.

Maybe this will be the last morning you see. The last breath of fresh air you have taken into your lungs, the last birdsong that has accompanied you in preparation until now.

Placing your sword on your knees, you stopped for a moment to gaze at the silver gleam of iron once more, the runes carved along its sheet.

“Courage. Luck. Protection.” Ivarr’s familiar voice came from behind.Taking a deep breath, you staightened in your seat, looking over your shoulder into his eyes.

His gaze was distant, dark orbs flashing from behind his black face paint. Ivarr was already flaunting his full armor, axes neatly tucked into the belt on his hips.

“Do you really believe your runes will help?” He raised an eyebrow, one hand gesturing to the steel in your lap, holding a clay bowl in his right palm.

You answered with a half smile, turning back in front of you, continuing your work. Without further critical notes Ivarr the Boneless circled you, sitting down into the green before you, firmly grabbing your knee.

“Come closer Little Lamb.” With a sigh he waved to you, like an old man, preparing to recite long sagas to the children by the gentle warmth of the fireplace on a cold winter night.

Gently caressing your thighs, Ivarr withdrew his warm touch too soon only to your knees, tracing small circles into your skin with his thumb over the harsh fabric of your breeches.

Your hand stopped in the monotonous movements, you looked up at him curiously.

Inteas of the usual edge, determination and darkness, Ivarr’s deep brown eyes softly fixated on your form. The corner of his eyes relaxed, a warming tenderness emanating from his gaze as he looked up at you.

It was rare when you got to see Ivarr’s softer side; when he showed you his vulnerable side in public. These looks were meant just for you, only for the two of you — when the whole world ceased to exist, and only he mattered to you, and only you to Ivarr.

The dreaded Ivarr the Boneless, leader of grand armies, the demise of kings, the boldest berzerker who ever lived — yet his touch was tender, his gaze full of devotion. love and care as he embraced you, pulled you into his lap and sought your favors.

Your heart stirred, as you looked down at the man in front of you.

Maybe it will be the last time you can see the love in his eyes, the softness of his face — that he can be just as caring as anyone else contrary to the tales.

Your mouth trembled, lips bent into a sour smile, fearful tears will fall at any moment. With a sniff you leant down to him; Ivarr’s strong scent of iron, furr and smoke hitting your nose.

Not long ago you felt his scent just as strongly- it went into your head as you could taste it on your lips, smoother it into your own skin.

It was a dangerous occupation of yours, berzerkers and Jomsvikings life. Placing your very own soul on an unknown stake, against a foreign opponent, in the unpredictable maelstrom of fates.

You had to live in the present for your future has not yet been set in stone, the weavers of fate have not woven the next part of your song.

“There is no tomorrow. Only today what matters. What you do, what you say, what you think.” Ivarr whispered in your ear last night as he guided you onto his bed, spreading your thighs apart with his knees.

“If we want to enter the Gates of the Forever Halls without regret, we must act upon what our heart dictates.” He murmured sweetly, bowing down; soft lips smoothing over your warm skin, teeth nipping into the flesh.

It was rare when he dared to show such vulnerability to you, acting upon his better self; heart wanting nothing more but gentleness and love. It was rare when Ivarr the Boneless wanted to savor his moments with you rather than devouring you whole like a starved beast - now wanting to memorize every curve, every inch of your body, how it moved beneath him, how it felt against his feverish skin, how it tasted in his mouth.

He wanted his last image to be your moans, whispering his name, your mindless pants; cunt wrapped around his aching cock so perfectly, so deliciously for him, only to him.

“Only today is ipmortant.''You repeated. recalling his words to you with a nod. “Just focus on what’s in front of you.” It sounded like you were bagging, as if you tried to warn him.

Your finger slid up on his neck, grazing over his nervously twitching tendons. Running your fingers over his profile under his chin, palms finally came to rest on his stubbled cheeks, cradling his face.

Eyes darting between his chestnut orbs, the well-known mischief glinting in his ireses; liveliness and clarity reflected back at you.

He smiled slyly, sending you a wink; his own hand grabbing your wrist holding his face.

“I always focus on that.” He replied- tone deep and mysterious as he dropped your hands from his face. “And now you are who’s in front of me.” Ivarr stated, bringing up the bowl into your vision, that he held until now.

A dark juice swirled in the small bowl, gray as mud, but the smell reminded you of strong spices and herbs. Ivarr gestured with his chin for you to lift your face, pulling you closer and pressing his waist between your spreaded knees.

Ivarr pressed his index and middle finger into the paint, and holding up your chin with his thumb he placed his painted, cold fingers under your eyes, slowly drawing them down until your jawline, attentive eyes never leaving your own the whole time. You barely took any breath while he repeated the motion on the other side, then making a half circle on your chin. The tip of his nails pressed gently into your nose as he moved his fingers over your lips, as if to silence you for a moment. He connected the lines with the semicircle, turning his attention to your forehead now, beginning to draw more symbols on you.

Not a single word was spoken between you two; yet thousands of feelings raced through your eyes, as you watched silently Ivarr. You wanted to capture his features in your memory as throughly as it was possible — one last time to etch every single wrinkle, scard, and line that dotted his handsome face.

When he was done, Ivarr wiped the remaining paint onto his breeches, leaning back to you, sneaking his palm over your nape.

For a moment your gaze fluttered;the movements sending a chill down your spine, and at the same time filling you with immense calmness. Ivarr was there, by your side, breathing and fighting until he had breathed the last shed of his soul. And that was all that mattered to you. Knowing that your love will be there, by your side. That you will both be there for each other, doing everything in your power to fight and survive.

“Do not leave me.” You wrapped your fingers around Ivarrs wrist, gently tracing his battle scars as you searched for his gaze.

Love, devotion, longing and the thrill of the battle burned in Ivarr.

“Never, my Little Lamb.” He gave a crooked smile. “Not even the Gods can keep me away from you.” He promised.

#ac valhalla #assassin's creed valhalla #ivarr imagine #ivarr ragnarsson #ivarr #ivarr the boneless #ivarr fanfiction #ivarr x f!reader #ivarr x reader #ac valhalla fanfic #my writing

[g0ttal0ve101]

Facade

Prompt: Detention

Ship: Lukai

Note: BABY TWINKIES!! tw: slight violence.

████████████████████

“Fucking freak.”

Laughter erupted in the cafeteria as the crowd watched a group of girls gathered around a circular table with a singular boy occupying it - Kai Miller. With ebony curls and sharp gold irises framing his round face, he sat in silence as they berated him.

“What? What’s wrong?” The ringleader, Lindsey Hall snorted with a horrific grin, her mindless minions laughing alongside her. “Oooh, he’s staring at me now! I’m really in for it! I’m shivering at the sight of it!” She snickered, grabbing another component of his lunch. His gaze burned holes into her skull. In spite of feeling threatened, she continued to attempt the act of making him feel small. “Are you hungry? Here, let me hel-!”

Before she could dump the bag of chips on his head and humiliate him in front of the whole school, his seat flew back onto the ground and his teeth sunk into her arm in the spur of a moment. Horrified shrieks filled the air as she struggled to get him off, falling backward onto a separate table and spilling ketchup down the front of her designer top. The red tint of the condiment blended perfectly with the blood dripping from her forearm.

And that’s how he ended up in an one hour detention after school every single day for a full week. Typically students got suspended for this sort of behavior but in consideration of Kai’s grades, the teachers figured he would be better off working on missing reading assignments instead. In total, he had about twenty pages; Front and back.

The first two days were complete misery. Kai sat in an isolated room with four other people including a bitchy teacher while scrubbing on a page for an hour, practically feeling the life being sucked out of him. The third day, however, was much different. There was a turn of events that he couldn’t have fathomed would take place in a school like this.

A boy - Not just any boy, a cute boy - sat at the desk next to him. He recognized him from the morning bus as he was always late without fail, hurriedly boarding the vehicle with a thousand thank you’s and a hundred sorry’s. Kai reminisced the day he was forced to share a seat with him after the bus was overcrowded that foggy morning, remembering just how good his cologne smelled. He was practically slapped in the face whenever he caught the familiar scent again.

With white silky hair pulled up in a ponytail and a seemingly flawless facial structure, he sighed heavily and began unpacking his bag to begin his work. Kai couldn’t help but peek over his shoulder to see what it was he was working on. Biology. Gross. No wonder he looked so miserable doing it. Shifting his sly eyes away whenever the boy’s head turned in his direction, he picked the pencil up with wobbly fingers.

Ten minutes pass then twenty, leading up to the point where Ms. Bitch stepped out of the room for a moment. The remaining kids inside the class were silent and continued doing their work, which made Kai less observant to the fact that the teacher was gone. That was until he heard the pen drop.

Under his spiked combat boot laid a pen with pastel colorings, glitter and cute patterns displayed upon the plastic. In other words, the complete opposite from the source stepping on it. Kai reached down to grab the writing utensil with a raised eyebrow only for his scrawny fingers to hit a warm surface. That boy’s hand.

“Sorry!” He sputtered with an embarrassed glint in his eye, scooping his pen up and trying to play it off as cutely as he could - Or maybe he wasn’t trying to be that cute. Maybe he just was. “I’m dumb, haha! Sorry to bother you!”

Kai had never heard him say anything other than an apology. With a sweet voice like that, he could be putting it to much greater use.

Remaining silent as per usual, Kai gifted him with a gentle smile. His hand reached his lips immediately when realizing his fangs could pop out at any given moment, flustered instantly. Apology boy didn’t seem to mind. Rather, he dusted himself off and continued playing it cool by interjecting himself into conversation. Perhaps it was his way of settling into the environment.

“We ride the same bus, right? What’s your name?” He hummed. Kai knew he could be intimidating to most people but that didn’t seem to be the case with apology boy here. It caught Kai off guard more than anything else.

“Kai.” His voice was monotone, scarily flat.

“Kai! Kai is a nice name,” he fidgeted with his sleeve before sitting back at his desk and resuming his workload. That should’ve been the end of the interaction. However, with someone as socially isolated like Kai, he didn’t pick up the hint.

Drilling his gaze into the side of his head, he blinked slowly to gather each detail of his pretty countenance. “You?”

“Huh?”

“What’s your name?”

“Oh! I’m so stupid. It’s Lucian!”

His name matched his face to a T. Kai couldn’t help but scoff a little when pondering how his parents could name him so well. “Lucian is a nice name.” He repeated the same saying as he used beforehand with a cheeky smile. Lucian caught the joke and let out a giggle.

Brief silence presumed as the clocked continually clicked dreadfully slow. Kai couldn’t help but feel inclined to continue the conversation - He just didn’t know how. This was the first time he ever wanted to talk with anyone in this damn place and he was going to blow it. He scowled at the thought. Luckily, Lucian seemed to be acquainted with making small talk.

“I don’t see you here often. What did you do?” Lucian bubbled, twirling his pen in between his fingers.

That was a perfect way of ruining his chances to make a friend. Kai gulped with a brief hesitation before initiating the reason to escape his lips. “…I bit some girl.”

Figuring he would hear radio silence, Kai prepared himself for the worst. However, he was instead met with a burst of laughter. “Lindsey Hall, right? I don’t blame you.”

“How…?” Kai’s voice drifted off as he fell victim to those gorgeously innocent eyes. His heart skip a beat or two as he viciously fought to escape his trance.

“I heard her complaining about it in photography class yesterday and I remember thinking, ‘good on that guy.’ And now I got to meet him, haha!” Lucian gushed with a playful gesture of his hand, nearly dropping the pen again. If anything, Kai learned that he was clumsy. “I bet she was really asking for it, huh?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, thanks for giving the world some justice, dude.”

Somehow this boy was getting cuter and cuter as time progressed. By the time he turned his head away again, Kai couldn’t help but blurt out something else to keep him in a talkative mood. “What about you? Why are you here?”

Lucian’s playful smirk dropped in a second. With a dreaded sigh, he admitted to his wrong-doings. “Tardy to first period. Sleeping in class. Forgetting homework. Hanging out in the library without a pass. Y’know, all the boring stuff.” Changing the subject oddly quick, Lucian pointed at Kai’s worksheet. “Hey, is that English homework from last month?”

Putting it like that shot a bullet through Kai’s chest. With an ashamed nod, he tried his best to cover up what he had written beforehand. Lucian reached over and grabbed his forearm, examining the questions.

“I can do these for you, if you want.” He offered. Kai could’ve sworn he was an angel at that moment. Before he could reply, he swept the worksheets off his desk and traded them for his completed biology homework to hide the fact he was doing all the work for him. In good measures too, as Ms. Bitchy came storming in with a bad attitude.

“Lucian Williams! You should know better than to talk in this detention hall!” She snapped, plopping into her chair two sizes too small for her fat ass. Kai held back a snicker when imagining how much pain she would feel if he placed a tack on the cushion. “Should I give your stepfather a call aga-?”

“N-No!” Lucian blurted with a terrified expression, lowering his head to avoid her stare. “I’m sorry, Ms. Price. It won’t happen again.”

Kai observed his saddened face with a frown. He thought boys usually looked so cute when they were upset, so why did his heart tug when seeing Lucian’s solemn expression?

████████████████████

“How far do you live from here, Kai?” Lucian questioned with his eyes renewed back into brightness. Both boys skipped down the stone staircase and made their way onto the sidewalk, walking shoulder to shoulder. Anyone from the outside could’ve figured they’ve known each other for years.

Adjusting the straps on his ancient book bag, Kai pondered his response for a short while before answering. “Evergreen Street. What about you?” He muttered the last part in fear that Lucian would reply with a location on the North side. North side residents commonly looked down upon the South side as they were seen as poor and/or up to no good - which wasn’t too far off from Kai’s reality. He just wished that Lucian didn’t have to know so soon.

Without skipping a beat, Lucian jumped on the case excitedly. “Wow, only a block down from my house! We should totally hang out sometime!”

Kai’s heart fluttered. It was like a dream come true. “Yeah…! M-Maybe we should exchange numbers…or something…”

With a nervous giggle, Lucian tapped the tip of his converse shoe onto the ground. “I could give you my house number but…”

“But?”

“Nothing!” He chirped, shaking the worry from his mind and swinging the bag off his back to retrieve a pen and paper. Once he managed to sloppily scribble the correct numbers across the lined page, he folded it up into a cute heart shaped origami figure and handed it to him. “Pretty neat, huh?”

Kai would cherish that piece of paper until the day he died. With a chuckle, he nodded.

The conversation from there was a blur. All he could think about was the heart-shaped piece of paper in his hands and Lucian’s sweet voice uttering kind things to him. He hadn’t experienced such bliss in all his life. It was addictive. Just so very addictive. He didn’t want it to come to an end. However, once they arrived at Lucian’s home, he knew it was much too late to prevent the departure.

“I’ll see you on the bus tomorrow, yeah?” Lucian gushed, hopping up his porch steps with a dim smile. Something was off in the way he moved, almost like he didn’t want to be too obnoxious. “Maybe I’ll just sleep in again so I can have detention with you tomorrow too, haha…!”

How wonderful that would be. Kai let out a ring of soft laughter and nodded firmly, gifting him with a friendly wave goodbye. Lucian repeated the gesture as he reached for the door handle.

“Bye…!”

“Bye.”

Watching him enter the house, Kai was a witness to Lucian’s face shifting a split second. One moment he was cheerful and the next…

#oc: lucian williams #friend’s oc: kai miller #101’s wpw #lukai 🖤🤍