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fairyyarchive · 8 months

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Hey homegirl can u write ab fwb zoro and the reader wants to take a nap w him (preferably when he’s shirtless)… it doesnt even have to be straight smut i wanna feel the TENSIONNNN

ok first of all. absolutely omg. fwb w zoro is one of my fav things and I just love seeing him get a lil nervous around you because it's so cute <3 this ended up being a lot softer than I initially thought, so I hope you enjoy! <3 faye contains: fwb's reader + zoro, nicknames (darlin' from zoro drives me crazyyy ugh), mentions of sex but no explicit smut, cuddling, fluff, naps, shirtless zoro, fwb but they have feelings

sleep in the sun

Sometimes, life at sea could get a little boring. Sure, there were always new obstacles to overcome with the Straw Hats, people to help and fights to win (and one triple-armed swordsman to patch up) almost every day; but the in-betweens left you to entertain yourself. On a ship in the middle of the sea, all you could do to pass the time was reading, pacing the deck, bothering Sanji, or … underneath the aforementioned swordsman.

Look, it’s not that either of you intended for this to happen, but with days at sea and only five other people to talk to and the tightness in your chest when he stood too closely behind you, it seemed almost inevitable that few drinks one night led to a kiss, a soft “C’mere,” muttered as his strong hands pulled you on top of his lap.

Since then, a silent agreement between the two of you kept you returning to each other during sleepless nights and empty afternoons. It wasn’t exactly official, nor was it exactly public, but it was a closeness you both craved – a calm safety you’d never found in your travels alone. Zoro was strong and kind beneath the hardened exterior he’d built to protect himself, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said the sight of him shirtless and sweaty after a fight didn’t do a little something to you.

Today in particular found the two of you bored out of your minds; the others exploring and no doubt causing a ruckus the town at which you were docked. Feeling the effects of last night’s rendezvous and resulting lack of sleep left you and Zoro opting out of the outing, with the ship to yourselves and the warm afternoon sun and misty sea breeze creating the perfect weather to laze about in.

As you wandered up to the deck of the Merry, you smiled softly when you found your green-haired swordsman lounging in a hammock, cotton pants tied low around his waist, and bare chest soaking up the sun’s warmth. His arms were folded behind his head, eyes closed. He looked so peaceful like this, the slight scowl he usually wore melted, taught muscles relaxed. You tried to ignore the tug in your heart when you saw him like this, a fondness that had made its home in your chest sometime lately.

“You asleep?” You approached him quietly, trying your best not to disturb him if he was.

“Nah,” Zoro opened his eyes, turning to face you. A lazy smile reached his lips when he saw you, hair a bit tousled and eyes gleaming in the light. His own heart panged at how beautifully the sun painted you, and he silently thanked the universe for blessing him with your company on the ship.

“Can I … lay with you for a bit?” You bit your lip, suddenly shy. The man had seen you naked several times now, in various positions and much more embarrassing situations. So why did the concept of simply napping in the same hammock, mostly clothed at that, make your heart race?

Zoro cleared his throat, brows raised a little in surprise. Was he blushing too? “Ah - sure, yeah you can. C’mere darlin’,” he extended his arms to wrap them around your waist, allowing for you to climb into the hammock on top of him.

You settled into his embrace, your head resting on his just above his heartbeat and his sun kissed skin warming you. Zoro shifted beneath you, getting comfortable with the added person to the hammock. His arms wrapped firmly around your waist and held you close, as if he thought you may float away from him if he didn’t. You breathed him in, all clean musk and sweat and bright citrus, with a bite of sea air. Warm, comorting, Zoro.

“Mmm. You smell so good,” you sighed against him.

“Yeah?” His chest rose and fell in a soft chuckle, eyes already closed again as you relaxed against him. You nodded, nuzzling further into the crook of his neck and peppering soft kisses on the bare skin of his neck and shoulder. A soft grin broke across his face, the joy in his heart unavoidable with you on him like this.

Your eyes drifted closed as the breeze ruffled your hair, your breathing beginning to slow as your mind drifted off to sleep. Zoro drifted off soon after, his breathing steady and heartbeat calm as he held you tight, a warmth in his heart that he knew always belonged to you.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

let me know how you like this! I'd love to do more fwb with zoro <3 ty for all the love! <3 faye

☆.。. Masterlist

☆.。. Requests open!

#one piece #one piece live action #one piece fluff #roranoa zoro #zoro smut #zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro fluff #one piece x reader

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sequinsmile-x · 8 months

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Hi. I watched bloopers and Thomas Gibsons laugh made me think what would be Ems first reaction when she hears it. Like Hotchs laughing but laughing like thaaaat she’d be sooo in love. Maybe you could write something about it :)

hiiiiii

soo, I have had a couple of asks along these lines and I've been waiting for inspo to strike so I could hopefully do this prompt justice, and last night this came to me!

I really hope you like this <3

-x-

Symphony

Emily reflects on how much she loves Aaron's laugh.

-x-

Warnings: Daddy issues if you squint. So fluffy in parts I recommend you floss afterwards

Words: 4k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

The first time Emily hears Aaron laugh she’s still relatively new to the team.

He doesn’t quite trust her yet and she knows it, but he’s not as standoffish as he once was with her. He’s slightly more relaxed, and she can, if she looks closely enough, see a future where she would feel like a fully-fledged member of the team. She’s still convinced that he’s a complete hardass, unable to see what Haley sees in him, her few interactions with his wife making her question how got together in the first place. Her smile and sense of fun misplaced against what Emily thinks she knows about Aaron.

When she looks back on it, she chastises herself for not looking below the surface. For not looking beyond the facade that was so clearly carefully constructed. Fun and happiness and softness buried beneath a tough exterior, only visible to those who cared to look. A scowl that was painted on over a smile that makes her stomach flutter in ways she chooses to ignore.

It’s a late flight home, an awful case left behind them that had led to days of too much coffee and too little sleep. Despite the exhaustion that lingers in the air around them they are too wired to rest. Derek suggests poker, a pack of cards always in his bag, and they all agree to play. Aaron reminds them they can’t play for money, that the jet is federal property, and she sees an edge to his smile, a hint of the dimple carved into his cheek, that she hadn’t seen before. Spencer suggests they play for snacks as he pulls packets of pretzels out of his bag and they all agree.

She laughs as Derek gets increasingly irritated that he’s losing, his eyebrows furrowing as he loses hand after hand, his competitive side shining through. He growls as he throws down his cards and Spencer pulls the snacks towards him, a smile on his face.

“Are you going to keep losing or shall we just give up?” Spencer asks, and Emily laughs, shaking her head as she settles back into her seat.

“Are you even old enough to gamble?” She asks, chuckling when Spencer glares at her.

“I’m old enough,” he grumbles, “Plus, I grew up in Vegas,” he shrugs as he shuffles the deck, “Most games are just math.”

Derek groans and buries his head in his hands, “How do I always forget you grew up in Vegas and that you have the ability to make anything sound boring?”

Aaron laughs at the pure dejection in Derek’s voice, his head thrown back slightly, and for a moment Emily wonders how often this exact scenario had played out before she joined the team. Then his laughter washes over her, the sound completely different to what she would have expected. It’s light, almost melodic. Goofy in a way that makes her have to suppress a smile, her lips pressing firmly against each other as something deep in her gut flips, warmth spreading through her veins.

“Prentiss?”

She only realises she’s been staring when he says her name, and she clears her throat, shaking her head as if to rid herself of a spell, “Sorry, yes?”

He frowns, his eyebrows pulling together in a familiar way, “Are you ok?”

She nods, flashing him a smile, “Yeah, I’m okay. Just tired I think.”

He looks like he doesn’t believe her for a moment, but he simply nods in response, “It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah,” she says, smiling at him once more before she turns her attention back to the game, “it’s been a long day.”

When she looks back she knows that’s when it started.

___

The first time she makes him laugh like that is after he’s been attacked by Foyet.

She’d made him chuckle before, a sound caught in his chest as she made a wry comment within his earshot, but she’d never made him laugh. It was a rare sound anyway, something that broke free when he couldn’t control his amusement, but even rarer lately. The strain in his eyes, the tension in his jaw, ever present from the moment he’d sent away Haley and Jack. It makes Emily ache, makes her wish she could do anything to give him even a second of relief, a flash of happiness in amongst the despair his life had fallen into.

Ever since she’d found him in the hospital she’d felt a need to protect him, to know where he was at all times. The concern that Foyet would come back and finish the job something that kept her up at night, her eyes fixed on the ceiling in her bedroom as she counted down the minutes until it would be deemed reasonable to check in on him. It was one of the many reasons she’d volunteered to drive him to and from work when he came back, because it meant she could channel all the nervous energy she couldn’t put a name to into something that was useful. A way she could show how him much she cared.

“What is the point of this?” JJ complains, pushing pasta dough back and forth on Dave’s countertop, “I can just buy pasta.”

“No friends of mine are going to get away with not being able to make their own pasta,” Dave says, raising his eyebrows when Emily rolls her eyes, her pasta dough abandoned on the counter, her focus split between her glass of wine and Aaron who was standing next to her, an amused smile skirting across his face. “You given up there Bella?”

“Yes,” she says, taking a sip of her wine as she looks at him, “I’ll make sure I think of you the next time I snap spaghetti noodles to fit them in the pot.”

Her smile widens when Penelope and Derek chuckle, and Dave sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leans on the counter.

“È come se fossi circondato da idioti,” he grumbles, grabbing his glass of scotch, and Emily hides her smirk behind her glass.

“It’s like you forgot you’re not the only one fluent in Italian. And that the word for idiot is idiota, even Derek could translate that one.”

“Hey,” Derek exclaims, cutting off Dave’s reply as he looks up from his pasta dough, his eyebrows furrowed together.

Any response she has lined up for Derek is lost, forgotten as Aaron laughs, loud and bold and beautiful, and it makes her heart skip a beat. He shakes his head as he kneads his pasta, “She’s got you there Dave.”

Dave rolls his eyes, but Emily sees the spark in them, the way he briefly looks at her, his smile giving away that he was pleased his friend was happy for a moment, even if it was fleeting. Dave waves his hand at them all and leaves the room, heading for the wine cellar.

“We need more wine to get through this,” he complains as he walks away, “I’m not cooking anything else for you Emily so if you don’t make your pasta you’re going hungry.”

She scoffs and shakes her head at him before she looks back at Aaron, her teeth sinking into her lower lip when she sees he’s still smiling, his laughter still lingering in the air around them. She looks at her abandoned pasta dough and she sighs.

“Emily?”

She turns to look at Aaron, smiling when their eyes meet, her stomach swooping as she tries not to get lost in them, “Yes, Aaron?”

He’d asked her to start calling him Aaron when they weren’t working, a show of friendship after she’d taken him to and from work for weeks. The shared commute slowly turning from sad, sorrow-filled silence to passionate debates about what music they should play, his smile present but shaky when she made fun of his love of The Beatles.

“You can share my pasta if you want,” he says, his voice low so only she can hear him, the others distracted by Penelope and Derek getting flour in each other’s hair, “I made extra just in case you gave up.”

She’d never be able to explain why, but that’s what clicks everything into place for her. Pieces falling into place as she realises she was in love with him, that his offer of sharing his food, his admittance that he’d made more than he needed with her in mind, made her realise what had been in front of her for weeks, months if she was honest.

She was in love with him, and she was sure he felt the same way, but she couldn’t do anything about it.

Now wasn’t the time, she knew that. He was just about hanging on. All of his focus on getting Jack back, on making sure he caught Foyet so his son and Haley could come back from wherever they were. It wasn’t the time, but she could be his friend.

She smiles and nods, clearing her throat to push the love back down it, letting it burn her on its way back down.

“I’d love that.”

___

The first time he laughs at her is a couple of weeks into their relationship.

He’d become her best friend and confidant since she’d returned from Paris. His awareness of her survival, of what it had taken from her, one of the many things that had bonded them together. Over time she realised she spent more of her spare time with him than she didn’t, evenings and weekends spent with him and his son, the taste of a family they gave her slowly becoming her new normal, a vague promise of what she could have when she found solid ground again.

She’d felt them circling more than friendship for weeks before they took the final step. Longing glances lingering a little longer, both of them so in love with each other they didn’t know what to do with themselves. It all came to a head when a cop asked her out and she turned him down, not even thinking about it as she denied his request to go for dinner. Emily hadn’t thought anything of it until Aaron had shown up on her doorstep that night, his hair a mess from where he’d run his fingers through it, a tell that he was nervous.

When he asked her why she’d turned the cop down, her only answer had been to close the gap between them and kiss him, her hands on his cheeks, thumbs pressing into the dimples she’d thought about every day in Paris. When she broke the kiss, pulling back for air, he smiled at her, his hands tangling in her hair as he pulls her back in for more.

She yawns as she walks into her kitchen, the material of his shirt, the one she’d picked up from her bedroom floor, skimming the top of her thighs as she stretches. She checks the time on her watch and sees it’s 2 a.m., groaning as her stomach rumbles again. They’d gone for dinner, Aaron’s gaze locked on her as she purposely ordered in French because she knows it riles him up, and then came back to hers, barely through the door before they were all over each other. She vaguely makes a mental note to make sure her underwear is actually inside her apartment and not in the hallway outside, and makes her way to the pantry to make a snack.

He’d made her buy food, his arms wrapped around from behind in the aisles of the grocery store, encouraging her to actually have more than random condiments and take-out menus in her kitchen. She settles on making toast, pulling the bread out and slipping two slices into the toaster. She leans against the counter and yawns, stretching again and smiling at the pleasant soreness settling into her muscles. She knows she’ll find bruises on her skin in the morning, a temporary tattoo of his love, his desperation for her, alongside ones that were already fading.

It was everything she’d always imagined it to be and more, his attention to detail, his concentration, clearly not something he only had at work. It felt like a lifetime ago that she’d ever questioned what Haley had seen in him, and she guesses it might as well have been.

Emily wasn’t the same woman she used to be. Her grave may have been empty, but part of her had died. Rotten and decaying away as every day passed in Paris, her old life in tatters around her. She used to think that would be the thing that would drive her away from here, from the family she’d found. That her need to try and be who they wanted her to be, a square peg in a round hole, would make the place she’d once called home unliveable.

Then Aaron happened. His understanding and kindness the bedrock she started to rebuild her life on. He had no expectations of her beyond telling him the truth. No desperate need to make her be who she used to be, because he knew that wasn’t possible.

He wasn’t the same person he used to be either.

She thinks it’s why it works, why she can already see them going the distance. They understand each other on a level no one else could.

She’s snapped out of her thoughts by the smoke alarm, and she jumps, cursing under her breath as she sees smoke rising out of the toaster.

“Fuck.”

She releases the toast from the toaster, wincing when she lifts up the smoking slices, dropping them onto the counter when they burn her fingers. She grabs a dishtowel and waves it under the smoke detector, growling in frustration when the noise continues.

“Em, is everything okay?”

She looks up just as the alarm stops to see Aaron running into the room, his hair askew and pulling his boxers up, walking over to her when he’s got them on.

“Yeah,” she grumbles, throwing the dishtowel down and looking forlornly at her burnt toast, “I was hungry.”

He looks back and forth between her, the burnt toast, and the still open loaf of bread on the counter, and he smiles, a clear attempt to smother it failing as he looks back at her.

“You almost set your kitchen on fire making toast?” He asks incredulously, raising his eyebrow, and she answers with nothing more than crossing her arms over her chest and looking down at the ground. His response to laugh at her, a full-bellied thing that has her looking up at him as he closes the gap between them, any irritation at him fading away at the familiar sound she loves. He wraps his arms around her, his hands on her lower back.

“It’s your fault,” she complains, wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers trailing through the short hair at the base of his head, “I was distracted thinking about you.”

He smiles and leans down to kiss her, his lips gentle against hers at first before he deepens the kiss, his hands shifting from her lower back to grab her ass. He grasps at her thighs, hauling her up onto the counter, tasting her surprised squeal as he places her down.

“In that case,” he says, kissing her again, “I should make you something to eat,” he says, kissing her cheek, then her jawline, “Maybe something better than toast,” he pulls back to look at her, “Pancakes?”

Emily bites her lower lip as she smiles at him, pulling him closer by hooking her leg around his back, “I’d like that,” she says, stamping a kiss against his lips, sighing as she loses herself in the feeling, “Or…we could have pancakes after.”

He smiles, his hand sneaking under the shirt she was wearing, his skin scorching against hers, his lips against her neck, “After sounds perfect.”

They never do get around to making pancakes.

___

When she finds out he hates his laugh, she feels like she needs to defend him - even though it’s from himself.

She’s sitting on their couch waiting for Aaron to put Jack to bed, and she is watching a video on her phone. It’s from a recent event at Jack’s school, a parent race where the kids picked one of their parents to join them in the three-legged race.

Jack had chosen her.

It was something that still took her by surprise sometimes, the thought that she was someone's parent. That she could love someone as much as she loved Jack, and it took her aback that Jack felt the same way. That she’d stepped into that role in his life and he’d not only accepted it, but encouraged it. Seeking her out when he needed comfort, always looking for her when they were all in a room.

As soon as Jack had asked her to join in on the race with him she’d looked at Aaron, desperate to make sure he was okay with it, and all he’d done was smile.

It was only afterwards, celebrating their victory, that she realised Aaron had filmed the race on his phone. She smiles as she watches it, her and Jack moving in tandem with their legs tied together, looks of concentration on their faces, the soundtrack to the event Aaron’s delighted laughter from behind the camera.

She hears Aaron groan from behind her and she pauses the video, turning to look at him, totally unaware when he’d made it downstairs from putting Jack to bed. She smiles as he rounds the couch to join her, his arm automatically wrapping around her shoulders as she leans into his side.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, not missing how he grimaces when he sees what she’s watching, “I love that video.”

“I do too,” he says, kissing her temple, “I just wish the only thing you could hear wasn’t my goofy laugh.”

Her smile fades as she hears the derisive tone of his voice, how he scowls slightly, and she locks her phone before putting it down, turning all of her attention to him.

“Why?” She asks curiously, linking their fingers together, smiling at the sight of her engagement ring on her finger, still blown away by it all these weeks later.

He shrugs, “I hate my laugh,” he says, “It’s awful.”

Her eyes go wide and she pulls back, putting some space between them so she can look at him properly, “What? Why?”

He sighs and she knows once he would have shrugged it off, he would have said it was nothing, but they were well past that. Honesty one of the cornerstones of their life together, the thing that everything rested on. He smiles tightly at her and shakes his head.

“My dad he…” he trails off and clears his throat, and not for the first time she finds herself wishing she could bring a man she’d never met back to life just so she could kill him herself, “He always said it was stupid. That no one would ever take me seriously,” he shakes his head, “I don’t know…I guess I’ve always just thought it was goofy.”

She waits for a moment, carefully choosing her words before she sneaks even closer, all but in his lap as she places her hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look at her, her smile soft.

“Honey, it is kind of goofy,” she says, holding his head in place when he tries to look down, “But that’s why I love it.”

Aaron’s eyebrows knit together, “Really?”

“Really,” she confirms, smiling at him, “It was the first thing about you that I fell in love with,” she says, her smile turning into a smirk, “Well, after your rugged good looks of course,” she feels joy stir in her chest when he smiles at her, unable to fight it anymore, I actually remember the time I heard you laugh for the first time.”

“You do?”

She nods, humming as she settles in closer, her head on his shoulder, tilted up so she can look at him, and one of his hands sandwiched in between both of hers.

“It was on the jet, we were on the way back from an awful case and we were playing poker for snacks,” she smiles as she thinks about it, “Spencer was winning and Derek-”

“Derek got competitive and annoyed he was losing,” Aaron finishes for her, tucking some hair behind her ear with his free hand, “He made a comment about forgetting Reid is from Vegas.”

“You remember?” She asks, and he nods, turning to kiss her forehead.

“I remember. It…” he trails off, his cheeks turning slightly pink as if he was embarrassed by something.

“What?” She asks, looking at him curiously, smiling softly when he stays quiet, “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

He sighs and nods, “It was the first time I really thought about how beautiful you are,” he admits, clearing his throat, “I felt awful because I was still married to Haley, but you were smiling at something and…you just looked beautiful.”

She wonders how he makes her fall in love with him more every day, how he finds new ways to draw her further in, and she fights a smile, her cheeks aching with it when she fails.

“I love you,” she says, knowing it doesn’t even begin to explain how she feels about him.

“I love you too,” he replies before he leans in to kiss her, “so much.”

They lose themselves in each other, both of them wondering how they got so lucky.

___

Their son laughs just like Aaron, the three-year-old a carbon copy of his father through and through, often making her wonder how she’d managed to give birth to her husband’s clone.

She remembers the first time Elliot laughed, how it had blown her away, fixing months of sleepless nights and sore breasts and tears in one moment. He was four months old at the time, the sound indistinguishable from any other baby laughing as Aaron sneezed, the sound apparently amusing to the tiny baby, but it didn’t stop it from being the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard. Driving her to tears that she’d been susceptible to ever since he was born, Elliot joining his father and older brother on the list of people who could break down all of her defences.

His laugh changes as he grows, turning into something new as his personality continues to emerge, and it’s a sound she tries to draw out of him at any opportunity. A level of innocence she knows she’d kill to protect

The first time he laughs like Aaron is just a normal Tuesday, another day in the ordinary life she never thought she’d have. The life she loved beyond words. They were in the living room after dinner, Jack sitting on the floor with his younger brother, playing with him, and Emily and Aaron on the couch, snuggled together as they shared a glass of wine and watched their sons.

She’s smiling at something her husband has said when she hears it, a smaller, higher version of Aaron’s laugh coming from their 3-year-old. She looks over and spots Jack tickling his brother, drawing the sound from Elliot. She looks back at Aaron and she knows he’s made the connection too, his eyes fixed on their little boys, love shining in his eyes, ready to spill out onto his cheeks. She places her hand on his thigh and squeezes, smiling when their eyes meet.

“I’ve always told you he’s a mini version of you, and now he even laughs like you,” she says quietly, her smile widening when he places his hand over hers, linking their fingers together.

“Yeah,” he replies, sounding breathless, emotions she can see written all over his face clogging his lungs, “He does.”

She knows that for the first time, he hears the same beauty in his laugh that she always has.

-x-

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bokunosoul · 9 months

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Hiiii ur head canons are literally so good could u make an actual story for the undertaker one from ur “Black Butler men as cliché love tropes pt. 2” post?? It’s too good😏

Once upon a Victorian love story

AN : Oh god this request was like 2 years ago, im so sorry i had a writers block and an unmotivated self ): So i hope this long one shot will be acceptable.

Warnings : This was before undertaker becomes a funeral director, typo errors, reader is sent bac kin the 1800s, angst, past lovers au, abuse, messed up shit in the era, death, im using "adrian crevan" as undertaker's name for this au but it's not official yet (only a theory)

I was sitting the the bus for what seems like eternity now. It was the day of the most awaited college fieldtrip for your history major, everyone is exempted in the finals. Except you need to join this trip and write a thousand words essay to pass.

“Hey y/n!” i turn my head to my friend Samantha who is my seatmate for this trip. "Just in time!" she was panting heavily and i sighed. She was always like this, a last minute go'er kinda girl.

A minute later the professor started doing a roll call for each students---everyone was present. After that the bus started hitting the road, i turn to the bus window and just grabbed my airpods on and listened to some music to pass time whilst watching the view.

Two hours later, we arrived at the outskirts of London. The road was getting narrow and narrow as it reaches the misty forest. Crows flock and squawked around the huge gate of the museum which gave off an mysterious aura at the place. Intriguing.

The huge rusty gate opens automatically and your classmates started filming the place as the bus enters the museum. It has amazing landscape and a castle-like exterior that was well maintained. It was amazing on how it was preserved for 150+ years.

"Ah, Mr. Brown! welcome! welcome!" an elderly man wearing a butler's outfit greets our professor. They seemed to be well acquainted with each other as they hugged each other.

Samantha drags me away in front of the students gathering which a tour guide was calling the attention of all the students. "Welcome to the Phantomhive museum students of the University of England! I am Oliver Smith your official tour guide for this trip." he says and continues making a speech on how about this museum is actually a manor back in the victorian era, where a earl used to live in.

The tour guide leads the steps to the museum and the huge oak doors were already opened, inside it was a floor filled with black and white marbled floor, Greek columns, ceiling decked with lighted chandeliers that made you look in awe, paintings hanged up on the wall on top of the dark oak grand staircase.

You followed the guide upstairs again, which led to a dimly lit hallway which the only light source is the windows. I took out my camera and took photos of several victorian artifacts to document and write about.

After that, the tour guide let us roam around the manor but gave off an warning on prohibited activities such as trespassing the locked rooms, touching the objects and a bunch of other stuff. I walked away and looked around which i ended up suddenly seperated from my friend.

Being bored, you decided to just wander around the museum. You suddenly felt a familiar presence, you stopped and look directly at the gigantic painting encased in gold on top of a fire place. There was a man whom dressed in black holding a scythe of death with a peculiar look of smile on his face and a woman on his side who seems to be in a casket laying beautiful in white.

You found yourself looking the the masterpiece intensely "She is beautiful as always even in her last breath." i turn to look at beside me, it was a man with ominous black hair, maybe a bit older than you and was wearing a butler outfit radiating an peculiar aura. Maybe he's another tour guide? i said to myself

I just stood there frozen feeling a wav of familiarity and longing whilst looking at the painting "Adrian Crevan, he used to be the lord Phantomhive's informant. Well, we prefer calling him 'Undertaker' because that was he's known for. Handling corpses and being a funeral director." the man chuckled, and he turns to look at you and smile.

I just stood there frozen, my mind started go hazy and a sharp pain came crashing in your head and unknown memories started coming back from the past.

It all turned black. That's what i remembered.

Somewhere in the 1800s. --------

"Lady y/n, it's time." my maid Laura says behind me. I sighed and turned around to see her holding a whale bone corset. I raised my arms and let her put on the garment which makes

It was my mother's funeral and i have no energy on whatsoever to dress up and even think right. You did not even need this corset anymore because you don't have the appetite to eat. After finishing on putting on the mourning dress and veil i went outside where my carriage was already waiting, with my father inside it.

He was stern looking as always, but behind that façade of his you knew that he was ecstatic. Afterall he lost all the dignity after taking your mother's last name which made him feel emasculated which resulted to him---having affairs, abusive and absent.

My mother was a weak woman, i must admit. She was bound to die before reaching the age of 40 due to her having pneumonia. Despite this, even when she was sick, she was the one guiding you throughout my childhood. When her body can't take it anymore i was getting guidance from my aunt who is my governess.

At just 37 years old before my 18th birthday, yesterday, she passed away peacefully at night. Right here you could not even cry and remain emotionless, all this was not easily to process in just one day. You were in denial.

I just stood there watching my father shed crocodile tears at his speech on how my mother was a loving wife to him and a bunch of other nonsense that happened to them that did not even happened.

Everyone else was crying pathetically. She was born to die, why would anyone be this surprised? An hour later after the mass, your mother's coffin was brought to the cemetery to lay rest beside her late parents grave.

You just watch it get dumped in with the soil and the mourners throwing a white rose as it gets buried. I walked off as i threw the flower on it. My body felt heavy as i feel my tears started swelling in my eyes and i took off running to hide in the cemetery's nearby garden.

I started hysterically crying eventually falling down on my knees whilst clutching a portrait of my late mother. You could only thank the rain and thunder for now as no one can hear your wailing.

"My, my why is a lady doing here crying alone?" a voice mixed with teasing says. I turn around to see a man with long ash hair wearing a long black suit with glasses.

I sniffled and just wailed again and again until no tears started to come out of my eyes and i just sat on the ground numb from all of the pain while the man just stared at you blankly.

You started getting pissed off as he stares at you "What is your problem, why are you staring!?" i growled at him, he laughs and mumbles an explanation that you could not understand and i stood up and stormed away.

He grabs your hand and gives you something out of his pocket which seemed like a chain. I turn to him and opened my palms. My eyes widened at the sight "T-this!...."

"Your mother asked me to give this to you as a keepsake." the man says, his face stoic. Meanwhile i looked at the locket with my late mother's hair on it emotionally and smiled. Your father did not allow you to keep a memory of your mother, hence burning down all of the photographs, paintings, letters and clothes---every memory of your mother's existence.

The man started walking away "S-sir! wait!" i stopped him. He stops and turn around "W-what's your name?" i asked him stuttering. The man smiled "Adrian Crevan, the grim reaper." he says nonchalantly in a silly way that made you chuckle.

"Thank you, Mr. Adrian the grim reaper...?" i jokingly said while wiping my tears and bow at him in respect. He nods before walking away. You secretly hoped that you see each other again.

Two months later you started healing from the passing of your mother and going out more to balls that your invited too.

I stepped out of the carriage and twinkled at the sight of the beautiful mansion in front of me which belonged to the Duke who is part of the royal family. I stood in line of the guests infront of the door who are waiting for their names to be announced.

"Lady y/n of house l/n!" i thanked the man and stepped forward inside the hall wearing my lavish green silk ballgown and curtsied. Every woman stared me with envy, meanwhile men stared at me with lustful eyes.

This was normal since i was not betrothed to anyone at the moment and married men are taking advances with me to take me as their bride or mistress.

I greeted them respectfully but declined them, it was tiring. Honestly.

I found myself surrounded by women flaunting their riches at me. I wish I'd be deaf right now, it's annoying. You slipped away from them and took an glass of champagne from the table and walked towards the empty halls of the mansion just admiring the moonlight outside of the window. I flinched when i suddenly heard an loud thud near the empty grand staircase in the 2nd floor.

I walked towards where i heard the noise. You held your breath as you saw a young woman's body down the stairs, her head has pool of blood forming, and eyes in shock. I held my mouth as i saw the scene. I could not even move, i was frozen from my spot.

A man then appeared from the scene all dressed in black suit, long ash grey hair and glasses holding a scythe. I recognize that man! he was that peculiar guy from your mother's funeral that gave the locket!

He glanced at you but doesn't seem to care and just slashed the dead woman's body. I closed my eyes firmly at the sight. I took a bit of a peek, but instead of seeing a more bloody scenes it was different.

It was like a cinematic record, but not a movie---but someone's memories in their point of view. It continued on forever and ever until it reaches the end of the tape which has the word 'END' on it.

The reaper looks at you curiously "Why aren't you running away my lady?" he asks and folds the cinematic record neatly and put it into his pocket.

I was left speechless, am i going crazy?

"W-what just happened?" I gulped and he rests his scythe on his shoulders "I just reap people souls my lady, im what you called---death." he stated and grabs your waist swiftly and once you opened your eyes you were floating in the sky gracefully.

"Oh god! this is unsafe!" i screeched and held on to him tight not looking down on the ground since you're afraid of heights. A few moments in floating in the air you both landed on the ground.

He chuckled "Humans like you are really interesting, it's been a while Lady y/n~" he commented and kissed my hands, which made me blush. The man smiles at you and you two sat in an empty bench.

"w-WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!" i asked, still in shock and shook the man, he started laughing "You just saw me doing my 'job' and flew!" h e replied.

I hold my head to process on what just happened, maybe i'm just too drunk? I asked him all of my questions on who, what, where, when and why---all of the possible questions. Well that lead to you to getting more interested in each other that birthed to friendship of a human and grim reaper.

Then a relationship a few months later.

You and Adrian are both happy with each other. Every after he finished his job you two would secretly meet up. He would tease you all the time and brought you on top of the big ben at London on a full moon to have a date. The man was also a clingy person who likes to see humorous stuff all the time. Even if he's not a normal person that doesn't stop you both, but this is the day you will finally introduce him formally to your father.

He was ecstatic and positive as you two both enter your manor to greet your father the Lord of house l/n.

"Father, meet my significant other Adrian."

Your father looked at him sternly and was silent, he just sat there and eat his roasted duck.

"F-father did you not he----." he threw the cutlery directly at adrian's face, making him bleed. The grim reaper did not flinched, not feeling any pain as the knife gashed his face leaving a slash "W-What have you've done!" i screamed as i took out my handkerchief and held it on his bleeding face.

"Did i not tell you to not go whoring off with lowly men like your slutty mother! YOU ARE A SHAME TO THE HOUSE OF L/N!" my father raises his voice making you flinch and your eyes swell up with tears.

"Y/n, i'm okay." the man stood up and frowns unamused "I can' t believe a man like you became my future wife's father." he says disappointed and held you close as his face was still bleeding.

"Future wife? are you joking!? Y/n you will get married to Lord Wallace in 5 months! are you crazy!?" father yells "I DO NOT WANT TO MARRY SOMEONE I DONT KNOW AND LOVE FATHER!" i retaliated and walked towards him sobbing.

Adrian stares at you in shock and pulled you away from your father who is forcing you to go inside your room.

"A-adrian...i don't want to marry someone else..." i sobbed in his arms and he clenched his jaw hugging you tightly. It was painful. I don't want this to end.

The last thing you knew was you two hugging on what seems like an eternity, you two both crying. He let's go of your hand and tried to chase after him but failed as your servants stop you chasing after your love.

He just walked away just like that. He just walked away on our relationship. He promised that he will come back after me. Determined. One week. Two weeks. Three weeks. Four weeks. turned into a month. Then five.

I found myself wearing my wedding gown holding a bouquet of white roses whilst emotionlessly walking down the aisle.

He promised that he will love me. He promised that he will marry me when the time comes. He promised that we will run away together. He promised...

It was painful kissing another man. Just get through it, and i imagined that my love was the one i was marrying. But it was harder than i thought. Disgusting. It was disgusting on how this man look at you like a doll full of lust.

'Ten years have passed. I still haven't gotten over my greatest love. I sometimes wonder on what if he came back to me. I'm turning 29 now, i have 2 boys now and a little girl whom i gave birth to just two months ago. Well, life was not easy, my husband was a good for nothing like my father who is a scandalous and greedy man who brought multiple women in our home. I still have hope that we will meet each other again.'

I closed my diary and hid it on my drawer. I hear my daughter, Adie crying in her crib. I quickly took her out from the crib and carried her to stop her from crying.

"Shhh, don't cry.." i kissed her rosy cheeks and laid her to the crib again admiring my precious child.

I sighed and went to get dressed to go to another soiree that my husband was at to accompany him "Lady y/n, your carriage is ready." the maid said behind the door. I grabbed my mink coat and went to the carriage.

It seems that it was raining heavily outside. I hope it's just rain.

"Mama where are you going?" your eldest son Andrew asks "Could we go with you mama?" Allan chimes in, my second eldest. I kissed their cheeks "I will go accompany your father at the soiree, my darlings. Children are not allowed."

They groaned and whined at your reply. You bid them goodbye and entered the carriage. Your husband was already inside and has his eyes glued onto the window, this was normal and doesn't even surprise you anymore.

The rain was getting heavier and heavier as minutes have passed. The carriage has entered the steep road on the way to enter the Druitt estate where the soiree will be held. It suddenly came into a halt when you the carriage stopped and the coachmen screamed in horror. I stared at the window and it was a group of masked bandits.

Wallace, my husband opens the window "Oi! why the fuck did you stop were going to be late!" he scolded the coachmen. Bang! Bang! the bandits shot the coachmen and footman. I held my breath and ducked my head, scared. I look over to Wallace and he was in fear.

The leader of the group comes over at my side "Lord Wallace eh? your wife is a beautiful woman!" he pulled your chin to your chin. I looked over at the man, disgusted while crying.

"H-how dare you kill Mr. Clark and jameson!" i raised my voice looking over at the bloody corpses of our two servants. "TAKE HER! SPARE ME SIR!" my eyes widened as my husband pushes me over at the bandit and took off with one of the carriage horses. I stared at the man in horror "Your husband really is a coward you know?" he chuckled and drags you outside of the carriage in the pouring rain.

BANG! The leader shot your husband through the head with his pistol. His body dropped dead on the mud and the horse he was riding gallops away into the forest.

"W-why? why are you doing this--" you felt a sharp pain in your chest as the man looks at you smirking and twisting the dagger in you. All you can see is blood soaked in your pink dress, the bandit snatches your jewelry in your body as you stared at him emotionless. He took out the dagger out of your chest and pushes you off the wet ground.

This is how will i die huh? What about my children.....my ambitions....my Adrian....i want to see him one last time..

"Y-y/n..." a familiar voice says. My eyes widened at the sight, i struggled to speak up words, i wish i could tell him how much i have missed him dearly, how i long for him.

He still looked the same as ever. Handsome, even with the scar your father left him in your face. I weakly flashed a smile at him as he hold me close in his embrace, sobbing.

"I....i-i....love..you..so...much..."

She speaks up holding his face, i leaned to him close and our lips met. For one last time on what seems like an eternity that you wished that could continue forever. The woman closes her eyes smiling peacefully as the cinematic record started playing.

He hugs her close sobbing under the rain angrily. He hates this. You and him were lovers, you were both forbidden to each other. If only he was a human.

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

I opened my eyes slowly "W-what happened?" i asked and turn to my friend, Samantha. She looks concerned at you "Y/n you collapsed at the 2nd floor, Mr. Brown found you and took you to the museum's clinic." Samantha sobbed and held your hand.

"I think im okay now, i want to go rest in the bus." i said and stood up from the bed, your friend nods and guides you to go back to your bus seat outside.

As you were going down the stairs Mr. Brown approaches you "Ah, Miss Y/N are you doing fine now?" he asks, i nodded and thanked him profusely for his help. He smiles devilishly and grabs something out of his pocket and gave it to you.

I looked at my hand. It was a locket, with a picture of you beloved and me.

"Memento mori, remember you must die."

A/N : I might revise this if i had the time, this was so rushed since i was so excited in posting these.

#black butler x reader #black butler #black butler scenario #kuroshitsuji x you #kuroshitsuji x reader #kuroshitsuji #black butler headcanons #undertaker #yana toboso #undertaker x reader #kuroshitsuji x yn

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imaginethat0327 · 7 months

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Sitting on the floor of the beach cabin, Tango began his admin magic routine.

First, he placed himself in his Decked Out 2 storage room. Deep breaths and a concentrated effort were needed for the walls and ceiling to begin to form, then the myriad of chests. He could still hear and feel everything, but instead of darkness he could clearly see the storage room before him.

Grinning, Tango glanced down at his metaphysical hands. They were bare of gloves in this world, since fire could never harm anything inside his own head. Stretching his arms out, he spun in a circle to make sure everything was properly in place, then moved on to the next step.

He imagined that his body was a redstone machine, almost like a droid or a robot. It materialized in front of him as a diagram of circuitry. Glowing red light bulbs indicated where sensations were coming from. Carefully reaching out, Tango located the first glowing dot on top of the diagram’s head. His fingers touched the red light bulb, gently unscrewing it. The minute the light went out, he could feel the heat from his hair disappearing, the sensation vanishing. Satisfied, Tango reached for the next lightbulb, which was located by his face.

It took a few minutes of unscrewing light bulbs, but Tango could feel himself starting to drift. With each carefully removed lightbulb his body became more detached from sensation. Temperature, sound, taste, the feeling of his heartbeat, all of it was unscrewed and carefully placed in his “inventory.” Then, once the diagram was dim and devoid of lightbulbs, Tango folded it up and carried it to his storage system. The diagram and all the lightbulbs were carefully stored away.

Properly detached from his body, now, Tango could start to feel the chaotic weight of code pressing in on him. His head began to ache. Tense, Tango walked away from the walls of chests and towards the open, cave-like portion of his storage room. In the real room, this cave opening would lead to the interior of Decked Out, stairs leading into the absolutely beautiful system that was his carefully color-coded redstone lives and painstakingly crafted tunnels. Here, in his own mind, the cave opening led to the rest of the world.

As per usual, the first glimpse at the world code was agonizing to look at. Xisuma had described for him one time how he saw code: to the voidkind, he’d said it was like shifting, moving nebulas; beautiful and colorful. Every player saw code differently as it needed to be interpreted by their individual minds. Tango, for this reason, didn’t see nebulas. Instead, millions of scarlet zeroes and ones stared back at him, each strand of code displayed as a string of glittering red binary. Each string laid flat against a surface found in the real world. If Tango looked hard enough he could see how they laid against the flat plane of the floor, or curved around soft bed mattresses and even made up the exterior of his friends.

Grimacing at the confusing sight, Tango began to walk forward. He envisioned a bridge stretching out in front of him, a solid and easily visible pathway for him to walk on, and so it was. The pathway stretched across the coding of the beachhouse and out through the wall, out across the sand. He winced at the sight of the ocean; shifting, chaotically swirling numbers that sent stabs of pain through his eyes. Steeling himself, he imagined his bridge stretching over the waves and kept his eyes firmly fixed forward.

There had to be something beyond the ocean. Even if it was just another few islands, perhaps they would be safer than the one they were currently on. Doing his best to suppress the pain in his temples, Tango stepped out over the water and began his journey.

Y'all, let me tell you, if I ever draw a "1" or a "0" again... it will be too soon XD that binary was BRUTAL. However, I think the effect came out quite nice!! And I've never drawn a bridge like that before so that was quite time consuming but also quite fun :D -Imagine

#hermitcraft fanart #mcyt fanart #tango tek fanart #tango tek #hermitcraft #tango #hermitcraft fanfic #Rescue Fire #my artwork #Admin magic #Tango's got funky admin skills in this fic #although he can't use them without becoming quite ill #so thats not great #this also harkens back to him having a mind palace as mentioned in a previous post!#my posts #rescue fire #rescue fire au

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niqhtlord01 · 1 year

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Humans are weird: Soldier without a war. Part 2

The dark corridors of the derelict ship were like the maws of some great beast set to swallow the enterprising pair of scavies. Neither of them moved as the drone stepped aside and motioned them forward.

Galem still held the plasma cutter in his hands, ready to activate it again in a moment’s notice while Melp eyed the airlock back to their ship. Each were unsure on if they should accept the drone’s invitation or simply get back in their salvage ship and break off from the human ship. Melp knew which one Galem would want since his first and only thoughts revolved around money and profit. Melp on the other was a bit more careful and wanted to be alive to spend his profits. While the pair thought in silence the drone decided to make the choice for them.

Without warning the airlock back to their ship began closing. Both scavies turned in their bulky spacesuits to the airlock. With their magnetic feet the pair were anything but fast and the airlock sealed shut before either made more than three steps.

“Open that door!” Galem shouted as he turned back to the drone; the plasma cutter activating, casting a wash of pale blue light into the darkened corridor. The drone with the cracked visor remained motionless as it continued to watch the pair.

“Apologies, but you will need the captain’s authorization to leave the vessel.”

The drone’s voice was steady despite the somewhat broken appearance it held. This was not the response Galem wanted and he revved the plasma cutter to full speed. “Then I’ll cut my way through!”

He turned back to the airlock and was about to begin slicing up the door when the drone forestalled him.

“If you attempt to breach the airlock you will be treated as hostile,” the drone announced as the pixelated face on the visor changed to a bright red “X”, “and will be dealt with as such.”

“GALEM, STOP!”

Melp’s shout stopped his partner just in time as he was mere inches from the airlock with the plasma cutter; the metal already starting to heat red from the close contact. He looked at Melp confused but Melp was already turning back to the drone.

“What do you mean by “Dealt with as such”?” Melp asked the drone. The security drone turned to Melp and the visor displayed a pixelated face again.

“Gun batteries three, seventeen, and twenty one are trained on your vessel.” As if to reinforce the point the drone held out their right hand and a holographic image projected from its palm. Melp gasped in horror as he saw that the drone was not lying. The image displayed was from an exterior camera feed attached to one of the weapon ports, showing several large and deadly looking cannons slowly emerging from the ship and pointing at their tiny vessel.

Melp looked at Galem to see that he was observing the hologram as well. Melp motioned him to put the cutter down and Galem began powering it down.

“We would be delighted to join the captain.” Melp said to the drone. He glared at Galem and he followed with “Oh yes, yes; we would be honored to.”

The drone observed the pair before closing their hand, thus deactivating the hologram. “Excellent.” The drone rattled on as it motioned down the corridor once more. “Your presence on the bridge will require you to relinquish your weapons.”

Galem looked like he was to say something along the lines of “FRAK THAT!”, but one look from Melp reminded him that currently there a couple weapon batteries pointed at their only means of escape. Begrudgingly, Galem relented and set down the plasma cutter and the pair of scavies followed their robot host to meet this mysterious captain. --------------------------------

As the trio made their way through the darkened corridors Melp’s sense of dread only grew.

They were led down a series of corridors in differing states of disrepair. Wall sections would be missing showing exposed wiring and pipes, the decking would have holes so deep you could see the floor beneath, and every so often they would come across a functional light only for it to flicker rapidly as if warning them away.

“And I thought it looked rough from the outside” Galem whispered as they were led around yet another corner. Melp nodded in agreement but said nothing. He was too busy eyeing several drones in the new corridor hard at work making repairs. As Melp walked by he peered over to see that even though they appeared to be making repairs, nothing was actually getting fixed. None of their tools appeared to have any power in them, yet the drones went through the motions as if the tools were functional.

Everywhere they looked the drones continued their meaningless tasks. It was as if they were running on the last instructions they had ever received and were trapped in an endless loop of repetition.

The trip to the bridge took longer than either of the scavies thought, but with the power out to the lifts they were forced to take the interior stairs. By the end of it Melp and Galem were gasping for air; air that was long overdue for filtration as it burned their lungs.

The security drone motioned to an impressive set of doors inlaid with darkened metal depicting some great battle of humanity. As they approached the doors slowly parted open to let them in. They had parted just wide enough for a person to squeeze through when the right door suddenly stopped and a shower of sparks shot out. The door jerked violently and then finally stopped followed shortly after by the remaining door.

Galem and Melp looked at each other then back at the drone. When it said nothing but continued to motion towards the bridge the pair sighed and tried to fit through the gap. It took another five minutes of awkward pulling, shoving, and shifting before the pair made it inside. Much to their irritation the drone easily turned to the side and casually shuffled into the room before the bridge doors closed shut again.

Unlike the rest of the ship the bridge was relatively intact. The lights were all functioning, the floor was intact and free from holes, the reinforced transit glass was still intact giving them a stunning view of the ship graveyard outside, and there was certainly far less dangerously hanging exposed cabling. Melp took in the bridge and saw that the only noticeable damage was to several monitors. Data feeds still scrolled across them but with their cracked screens it was jumbled beyond recognition.

“Greetings, I welcome you aboard the Eternal Wind.”

A new figure slowly emerged from behind the rows of terminals. They were human, but looked hardly older than what the humans considered to be a teenager. They wore a captain’s uniform, but it looked like it was easily two sizes bigger much. What was even stranger was that behind this human teenager were two security drones carrying plasma rifles.

“You, are the captain?” Galem asked. He looked around as if he was expecting the real captain to come out and surprise them.

“I am Captain Benjamin Morn,” the teenager replied, “and I will not tolerate disrespect on my ship.”

“We meant no offense Captain.” Melp interjected to defuse the situation. “We are just surprised to see someone of your….age, having achieved such a prestigious posting.”

Seeing his pride stoked the captain nodded smugly and approached the scavies. “It is indeed impressive,” Captain Morn gloated, “I was the only ranking officer to survive the battle so it was natural for the crew to reward me with the captain’s chair.”

“You were here when the battle was fought?” Melp did the math in his head quietly. “That would have made you-“

“Eight years old.” Captain Morn finished for him. “I was serving as an Ordinary Seaman at the time while my father, Captain Nathaniel Morn, was commanding the ship.”

“The crew named you captain?” Galem asked. Neither he nor Melp had seen another living soul since they boarded the ship, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t somewhere else in the vessel. Captain Morn nodded again as he stopped just in front of the two.

“Of course, there are none better than the crew aboard this ship and I am humbled that they chose me to lead them.”

“Where are they?” Melp asked. “We haven’t seen any since we joined you.”

The human captain looked confused at Melp’s question. “What do you mean you haven’t seen them? You were escorted here by my second in command Johnson were you not?”

Galem and Melp both turned to see the security drone who had escorted them waiting patiently. It had said nothing since they had arrived on the bridge. The captain then waved to the two armed drones to either side of him.

“These here are master-at-arms Denise and Flint.” He pointed to the various other drones manning their stations on the bridge and sounded them off one by one. “Over there is Sensor Operator Morris, Helmsman Benedict, Gunnery Officer Pendleton, and their various aides and subordinates.”

The drones gave no acknowledgement as they were called out. Galem and Melp continued eyeing each other as the captain sounded out names as it dawned on them that this human “captain” was clearly space crazy.

“You said you were the only officer to survive the last battle?”

The captain nodded at Melp’s question. “How exactly did you survive?”

At first Captain Morn said nothing. He turned and paced over to the transit glass and watched the wrecks float by.

“We were on a secret mission and had just exited a transit jump.” The captain began. “Somehow our enemy knew where we’d be and were waiting for us.”

“Before any of us could act we were in the midst of a fierce battle. We expected no quarter and gave none in return, but we were outnumbered and out gunned on all sides.”

The captain turned around and held a small medal pinned to his chest. It was a golden star with the head of a bird of some kind in the center.

“This ship was experimental and they tried to board it and take it from us, so my father activated the primary weapon and it wiped everyone out; friend and foe alike.”

“But how did you-“ Melp began to ask but was cut off by the Captain.

“I WAS GETTING TO IT!” he shouted. The two armed drones hefted their rifles and trained it on the pair of scavies. Both Galem and Melp said nothing as the sound of the hearts beating ever faster drowned out the world around them.

After a few moments the captain collected himself once more and waved the drones to lower their rifles. “My father had given me his personal shielding amplifier and ordered me into the captain’s escape pod. He ordered me in there and like any good sailor I followed my captain’s orders.”

“Hours passed by, then an entire day, and no one came to get me or contact me with an all clear. So finally I left the pod to find that the experimental weapon had worked a little too well and destroyed all organic life within the surrounding area of space.”

“It was only thanks to the personal shielding device I wore that the energies did not wipe me out as well. The rest of the crew soon found me and since I was the only surviving officer they promoted me to the rank of captain.”

Melp listened carefully to the story. The kid had watched everyone he knew die around him in the blink of an eye and become stranded on a broken ship. No wonder he had went insane since then.

“Captain,” Melp began cautiously, “may I ask why you invited us to the bridge?”

“Shouldn’t that be obvious?” Captain Morn replied cheerfully. “I wished to meet our latest prisoners of war.”

“Prisoners or war?” Galem and Melp were confounded by this announcement. “Captain Morn, our peoples are no longer at war.”

“The fighting ended almost a year ago.” Galem supported. “We have existed in peace since the Dawn Accords were signed.” Captain Morn laughed at them.

“Do you think me such a fool?” He walked back to his previous position by the armed security drones. “You boarded my ship and murdered one of my crew without hesitation.”

“That was all a misunderstanding.” Galem responded quickly. “If we can return to our ship we can show you the data logs showcasing the end of the war.”

“I think you will find returning to your ship a rather useless notion.” The captain remarked coldly. “While you were being escorted here I ordered my crew to board your vessel and begin dismantling it for parts.”

“You what!?” Galem stepped forward in anger but the guards once more brought their rifles to bear.

“After the last engagement my ship was damaged beyond our current means to repair. We had power, but barely enough to support life systems leaving much of the repair work unfinished.” Captain Morn glared devilishly at the scavies as he continued. “But now with the materials you have provided us, your power core in particular, we can finish repairs and finally complete our mission.”

He motioned the guards and the scavies were quickly locked in irons before they even knew what was happening. “It is a shame you will not be able to see its completion from your new room in the detention level.”

The drone that has escorted them, Johnson if Melp remembered, grabbed Galem and Melp and began dragging them off the bridge.

“You are making a mistake!” Melp shouted. “We are not at war anymore! We’re at peace! WE’RE AT PEACE!!!”

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01 #deviantart dreamup #ai generated art

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voids-colourful-creations · 1 year

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Through Thunder and Lightning - A Liko Fic

[Read on Ao3!]

Rated: G Pokémon Horizons Liko & Rising Volteccers (Platonic) Content Warnings: Descriptions of panic and sensory overload. Words: 3.4k

Summary: Liko watches Nyahoja become nothing more than a small speck in the distance as Amethio flies away with it. Left sitting there in the rain, she takes the first steps to getting it back… in the morning. First, she needs to rest. (A scene insert between episode 2 and 3)

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The raindrops still clung to Liko’s clothes, her skin, her hair. It was cold, tiny stings that dotted across her body.

She wasn’t used to this kind of feeling, this aching gap in her chest. She hated it.

The sight of Nyahoja’s paws scratching at the ground as it slipped over the edge of the deck was burned into her mind, lingering like a ghost wherever she looked.

“Come on. We can’t just sit out here.” The voice came from above her; still unfamiliar to Liko even though it wasn't the first time she’d heard Friede speak.

Liko stood, Friede’s arm still around her. Rather, he pulled her upwards, standing up with a light tug at her arm.

He hovered over her as he led her back towards the tower she’d been hiding in. Smoke from the move that Amethio’s Soublades had used still unfurled, even as the rain continued to beat down. Friede directed her to yet another door, tucked into the central column of the ship, this time around the side from where she’d been hiding. A back up entry point, presumably the one that Liko had watched Molly retreat to only moments ago.

They stepped in and out of the rain, and Liko ducked out of Friede’s arm. He didn’t seem to mind.

Thunder cracked in perfect timing with lightning outside, and Liko tried to not flinch. It didn’t work all too well, but by this point there wasn't much face she had left to save.

A staircase loomed in front of Liko, plunging down dark into inky depths she couldn't see the bottom of.

“I’ll go first,” Friede said as he walked forward. “It looks kinda creepy when the powers out like this, but it’s not scary at all in the light.”

His voice faded slightly as Liko watched him retreat deeper into the dark. She followed, steps still shaky. The only thing scarier than walking into the dark creepy staircase on the strange floating ship, following the man who swept her away from her school without explaining a word, was being alone.

It was loud around her.

The rain continued to pelt the ship from all sides, it was a cacophony only blurred by the ship's metal exterior. Every drop banged against the ship, and every sound collected together into a tangled web of noise Liko felt like she was drowning in.

It was a blurry almost-pain.

She stared downwards at her feet as she walked down the stairs. A soft red glow poured out from the stairs. Emergency lightning.

Tinted crimson, Liko focused on her own feet as they stepped further and further into the inky unknown.

Each time she took another step down, she could feel the squish of impact, her sopping wet sock in an equally wet shoe. She was probably just stepping through her own personal puddles at this point. Despite the noise from outside, the squishing sound was still stuck in her ears every time she took a step.

She had to keep her steps careful, the bottom of her soles were slick, and her limbs still felt shaky. It wouldn’t be hard to slip down here, tumble downwards and downwards where Liko couldn’t even see.

If she hadn't slipped, maybe she would’ve been able to catch Nyahoja before it fell. If she’d been more careful about where she was standing, maybe she would’ve prevented Nyahoja from slipping in the first place. If she’d been more careful when commanding Nyahoja, if she hadn’t of gotten involved, if she’d never tried to run and given over the pendant in the first place-

Her thoughts were running headlong into each other again, and all Liko could think was that if she had just been better , things wouldn’t be the way they are.

Her head hurt.

She couldn’t tell if it was from the noise or the rain or the altitude, but it pressed in on her, a grip from all sides that closed in on her thoughts. Maybe the cause was all three.

It was a static sort of noise, fuzzy and uncomfortable. Friede was whispering something into his phone that only mixed with the ocean of loud that Liko’s surrounded in.

Or maybe he wasn’t whispering. Every sound seemed blurry, it was all blending together. So Liko couldn’t exactly tell.

It didn’t matter, really.

Liko only noticed they'd made it to the bottom of the staircase when she went to step down and was met with flat floor. The door in front of her was pushed open, and Friede held it for her as she stepped through.

There was hardwood beneath her. That was pretty much the only thing she could notice. With her senses muted and her emotions feeling like they were washed out.

She couldn’t stand this, the way the air she tries to breathe in feels like it was slipping away from her. It was a scary, shaky, feeling. Liko bit her tongue and tried to focus on breathing, on not crying all too much.

“Here ya go.”

The jagged and rough thoughts that scraped against Liko’s mind were met with something softer.

A towel, actually; it was white and fluffy, and it has been tossed right onto Liko’s head.

“Ah-“ Liko opened her mouth to reply, but the usual polite thank you she has prepared on her tongue doesn’t fall out like it’s meant to. Words caught in a web again, she can’t make herself speak how she’s supposed to.

“Dry yourself off, alright? We don’t want you catching cold.”

The voice (somewhat monotone, but not all that deep. That woman from earlier, then. Molly, she’d said.) didn’t seem particularly upset or angry. If anything, her tone was gentler, careful with Liko.

Liko reached up towards the towel, rubbing it against her hair and face to try and soak up the rain water.

Once she’d deemed herself sufficiently dry, she pulled the towel downwards, messing up her hair in the process. Stray hairs flew out in every direction, static electricity making them hover outwards from her face.

Liko wrapped the towel around her shoulders, pulling it inwards in front of her like a blanket. Still damp, and not all too warm, but the light weight felt comforting around her.

Molly stood in front of her, crouching slightly to be closer to Liko’s eye level.

Usually, when adults did that, she felt some sort of condescension. Being looked down upon in a way that made her feel uneasy in her skin.

It didn’t feel like that right now.

“Bit better, yeah?”

Liko nodded, words still failing her for the time being.

“We should get you out of those wet clothes though….” Molly mused, “Soon, if not now.”

Liko shook her head, which Molly took to mean as “Later, then.”

Liko had already exhausted herself as it was, she wasn’t sure she even had the energy for something so simple at the moment.

She trembled still, only slightly. Tremors that she tried to conceal by pulling the towel around her closer, not that it did much to help. She took a quick look across the room. Friede had disappeared before she’d even noticed.

“That can’t be all too warm.” Another voice interjected, much more vibrant than Molly’s. Liko turned her head, a woman with golden hair that faded to orange beside her.

“Here, trade me!” She said, holding out a blanket.

It was a bit faded, a quilt of some kind judging by the stitching. The fabric was a beige sort of colour, the fabric worn down into something soft to the touch.

Slowly, Liko pulled the towel off her shoulders, holding it out to the woman as she took the quilt from her.

It was very soft, and she wrapped it around herself just as easily.

She was still damp, her uniform was soaked through, but the blanket helped.

She wanted to say thank you , and also where are we going and I need to go find Nyahoja now so please let me off and I’m sorry even though she couldn’t place what she’d be apologizing to them for.

She didn’t say anything.

The women exchanged a glance with each other, nodding wordlessly.

They were judging her, by one merit or another, Liko realized. Oddly, a fear of not measuring up to expectations flared in the back of her mind. Of course, by now she’d likely failed any tests anyone here had been trying to set for her, formally or otherwise.

Her heart rate picked up a bit when the weight of everything settled on her shoulders again.

She did not know these people. She did not know where she was. The only things she knew were that Nyahoja was gone and it’s her fault, and that some other people she did not know are after her and her pendant.

Everywhere she looked, there was someone to be afraid of. Everything in her was screaming that she should run , but there was nowhere to run to, and her legs were shaking too hard to go anywhere at all. She wasn’t even sure she could take one step as she was now.

All of her was shaking.

“Hey, kiddo. Deep breath, yeah? You want some tea?”

Molly’s voice again, her hand reaching out in Liko’s direction. It hovered over her, not quite touching.

Liko’s voice remained absent, but she ducks her head down and nods. It’s polite to accept, so she’s been taught.

“Alright, I’ll start the kettle then.”

A small bzzt! Sounded out as Molly’s phone zipped out of her pocket, hovering in the air for a moment. Molly reached forward just as the phone suddenly plummeted in midair, falling directly into her awaiting hand.

Vibrant against the darkness of the room, Liko caught the silhouette of a Rotom darting to her left before it disappeared, and the electric kettle clicked itself on.

“Nice one.” Molly said with hushed breath, praising her Pokemon.

Molly continued to busy herself with the tea prep, and Liko tried to look around the area a bit just to get a better sense of her surroundings.

There was a table. Chairs. Vase of flowers on the table?

She was looking at everything the same way she always is, her eyes functioning just as normal, but she can’t quite seem to get the details to stick in her mind. It’s all just. Dulled at the edges.

A gentle chuckle came from behind Liko’s head.

“You’re still dripping a bit onto the floor.”

The other woman said.

Liko looked to her feet again, registering the small puddle she’d collected. Her socks were so damp she hadn’t even realized.

“I’m sorry.”

They were the first words she’d been able to choke out, though they were still tangled up in her anxieties. The phrase came out diminished; her voice didn’t sound right.

“Eh, don’t worry. Hardly the worst this old floor has seen! Your clothes must be soaked through though.”

Liko nodded.

“Well, you’ll be able to dry ‘em here, so I suppose it’s nothin to worry about.”

Liko paused at that for a moment, then nodded. Even if she was confused, best to go along with whatever they said.

“Which tea do you want?” Molly’s voice came through again. She walked over to Liko, holding out two bags of tea. Liko couldn’t focus enough to read either label, but she recognized the one cupped in Molly’s right hand. That shade of green, the sort of tea her Grandmother liked.

Thinking about her grandmother only made Liko’s heart squeeze tighter, so silently she pointed out at the green bag.

“Yeah? Thought so. One sec…”

Molly trailed off as she turned back around.

It was odd.

These people couldn’t be trusted, and Liko knew this. Maybe it was just the adrenaline wearing off, but she found herself wanting to sink into this rhythm. It was nice, the gentleness.

“Here you are.”

Molly handed Liko a teacup, paper tag fluttering slightly as Liko accepted it.

Liko cradles the drink in her palms for a moment. The warmth of it seeped into her palms, it was a comforting weight to hold.

“I’ve got some for you too, Orio. And me, too.”

“Aw, you’re the best.”

Liko watched carefully as the other woman, Orio then, accepted the cup and took a drink without hesitation.

Her face screwed up.

“‘-T’s hot!!”

Molly laughed lightly, trying to cover the sound with her fingertips to no avail.

“Again, Orio? You do this every time.”

Orio stuck out her tongue in Molly’s direction. Molly, raising an eyebrow, blew lightly on her tea, then took a sip.

“Mm. That’s nice.” She murmured, looking up and over to Orio, who only glared further.

The tension melted as soon as it formed though, they were only playing at any sort of dispute.

Giving it a light blow of her own, Liko took her own sip of tea.

It was stronger than she was expecting, but she liked it that way. It was nice to have something solid to hold onto, a taste to feel in her mouth that wasn’t her own unspoken words.

For a while, Liko just sat with that. With warm tea, with two strangers, with the blanket around her shoulders soaking up a bit more water from her uniform.

It was funny now, how tired she’d become just by sitting down. Or rather, the exhaustion of everything was really catching up to her now. The adrenaline had held her out for longer than she’d been expecting, but even that had long since settled away by now, leaving Liko weary and on the verge of sleep.

She cradled the teacup in her right hand, reaching up to rub at her eyes with the other, as if she could brush the sleepiness away from herself.

Her grip on the teacup loosened, threatening to slip out of her grasp and tumble onto the floor. Instead, Orio reached forward, taking the cup out of Liko’s hands and gently setting it on the table.

“Whoops, there we are. Bit more steady.”

Part of Liko wanted to protest, but the rest of her was much too tired to do anything much more than blink there and try to fight back against sleep.

Molly glanced over to her phone, then back over to Liko.

“Oh, it’s later than I thought.”

Orio glanced over, eyes widening.

“Oh wow, yeah.” She turned her attention back over to Liko, “You’ve gotta be exhausted.”

Liko just nodded dimly.

“Mm, thought so.”

Orio stood, taking Liko’s teacup as well as her own back over towards the kettle.

“Mol, the extra room, how’s it looking?”

“Bad.” Molly replied bluntly. “It’s a storage closet with an unmade bed in it at the moment. Putting her in your room would be better.”

“Good idea!” Orio replied, placing the cups down. “Liko can take my bed, I’ll share with you.”

Molly grumbled slightly.

“Unless you’re volunteering your room for her?”

Molly shook her head, “No, better your room than mine. But you’re sleeping on the floor this time.”

“Fineeee!” Orio singsonged, walking back over to the table.

“Whadja say, Liko? Seems like a good time to get some rest, yeah?”

“Mm-yea…” Liko mumbled out, her words still blurring together in mind and aloud.

“Gotcha, let’s head on over then.”

Orio placed her hand on Liko’s shoulder, gently guiding her forward. As she exited, she waved back over her shoulder to Molly.

“See ya in a bit!”

Back through the interior of the ship, Orio gently pushed Liko out into a hall and up a staircase, eventually leading them back up to the deck.

The rain still beat down upon the ship, but the ship's layout meant they were protected from getting hit by it. It vaguely reminded Liko of walking out on her porch when it rained, only a lot higher up.

The wooden deck beneath her was still smooth and dry, though a smattering of raindrop sparks bounced towards her feet as it continued to pour. An uneven line was drawn out by the gap, where the rain had soaked everything through and the divide to where it was untouched. Those stray droplets skewed the line, bouncing out of place to encroach further on the “safe zone”.

Liko was broken out of her train of thought when she stumbled backwards, Orio’s arm keeping her in place from walking any further.

“This one here’s my room!” Orio said with pride, stepping forward to bang her fist against a sturdy metal door. “It’s a bit untidy, but it’s clean!”

Liko ducked her head down towards Orio.

“A-ah- th-thank you.”

Orio grinned.

“Don’t mention it! If there’s anything you need, just let me know, yeah?”

Liko nodded.

“Great! Oh, and if you want, leave that soaked uniform out here for me. I’ll get those cleaned and dried up for ya, no worries!”

Liko gripped the strap of her backpack just that bit tighter. Thank goodness she’d grabbed it. The spare set of clothes Ann had urged her to stuff in there in case they’d ever have an impromptu sleepover had felt like a waste at the time, but now she couldn’t be more grateful.

“I will.” She says, bowing her head down again. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it!” Orio chimed, waving her off. “I’ll leave ya to it then, you’re probably tired enough without me blabbing on. Have a good night, Liko.”

And with that, she turned and walked back the way she came, leaving Liko with the door.

With a bit of effort, Liko pushed it open.

The room, as Orio had warned, was rather messy.

Across the stained wooden floors lay maps and tools in all varieties and sizes. The largest map took up nearly a quarter of the floor space, held down by a couple wrenches and a screwdriver. The bed was unmade, but at least it’s got a pillow. Liko shuffled forward, pulling the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders off and onto the bed. There. Much better.

Liko gingerly stepped around the blueprints, placing her backpack down and rummaging through it until she found the smaller bag she’d kept her clothes in.

‘Thank you, Ann.’ Liko thought to herself as pulls the bag out. ‘I’m sorry too, Ann. I’ve just gone and disappeared on you now, haven’t I? When you come back to our dorm it’ll be all messed up… the window will be open… Then again, I don’t think you’d really mind.”

Then again, Liko thought that maybe Ann would be excited by the whole prospect, save for losing Nyahoja. Like it was some kind of adventure. Liko almost wanted to laugh at that. If anyone should be the heroine of some story, it was Ann right? A spirited girl with lots of energy and a friendly attitude. Not Liko.

She wasn’t suited for a role like this! Surely the audience would protest? But maybe it was too late for that.

Liko yawned, trying to cover her mouth with her palm to conceal it even though no one was there.

On autopilot, she’d gotten changed without even thinking about it, and so she folded her worn clothes into a neat pile and left it sitting outside the door.

She wasn’t entirely sure if that Orio woman was really going to take care of it, but it was only a school uniform. She had others if anything happened to that one, and it wasn’t as if they didn’t already know what school she went to.

With all that settled, Liko walked back over to the bed, letting herself collapse down on top of it. She rolled over, pulling the blanket along with her.

This was all so strange. Awful and scary, and yet not entirely bad.

These people, not entirely trustworthy but not entirely evil.

There was a kindness to them, to this ship, that undercut the chill of the rain, of Liko’s fears.

She couldn’t let herself melt into that warmth, their warmth, when she still had to save Nyahoja. Nyahoja would love this ship, Liko was certain.

It was her pokemon. It was her fault. It was her responsibility. And Liko was so prepared to try and right her mistakes alone but…

It was so hard.

“Nevermind that,” she thought to herself, “In the morning, I’ll fix it.”

But even then, her thoughts came blurry and half formed, as she already began to slip into sleep.

Through faded memories of her grandmother, Liko slept curled in on herself as the storm faded out. There, with a drive she hadn’t experienced before, tucked away by a new sort of kindness she had no idea how to accept.

The storm they’d found themselves in would only rage on for so long, the lightning would quit jittering across the sky, the thunder's growl would fade to a gentle murmur.

In the morning, Liko woke up to sunlight shining in on her face.

[End!]

#pokemon #pokeani #pkmn #anipoke #trainer liko #pokemon horizons #pokemon liko #volteccer liko #nyahoja #sprigatito #professor friede #trainer friede #volteccer friede #volteccer molly #volteccer orio

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