#also you can try and guess my middle name from that description | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovelyela · 3 months

Text

she's thunderstorms || theodore nott x fem!reader

synopsis: you and theo smoke session, loosely based off 'shes thunderstorms' by arctic monkeys

ela’s note: i felt like writing a song fic and my best friend is like in love with theo and arctic monkeys so i decided to try n write something ! :D hopefully you guys enjoy this!

warnings: use of y/n, smoking, cursing (?), fluff, bad descriptions of smoking (i dont smoke so idk wtf im talking about), mentions of cheating, bad british slang attempt (im also not british), implied slytherin!reader BUT it never actually says it so like whatever, inappropriate teenage boy jokes, time jump, lazy ending :p

word count: 1.1k

・❥・

the rain made the pavement darker than it was, the lightning flickered and the thunder hushed the party going on inside the slytherin common room.

theodore was in the hallway, sitting on the windowsill while taking a smoke break.

mattheo was busy on the dancefloor, flirting with girls and getting drunk and whatnot, so theo was alone with his thoughts for the smoke.

he inhaled the grey smoke, letting it sit for a little before exhaling slowly. his eyes were glazed over, allowing himself to relax.

the booming sound hit again, dampening the laughter and chatter theodore could barely hear.

he closed his eyes, allowing the effects of the weed to settle in. the peace and quiet settled in until footsteps approached him.

"do you have another?" a voice rang though his ears, taking him out of his trance, it was you.

"what?" he asked, taken aback and caught off guard by you.

"do you have another blunt i can have?" you clarified.

"oh, yeah- yeah, of course." he replied, "here." he said, taking a rolled sheet filled with weed.

"thank you." you replied, taking the bud and putting it between your lips. theo took the lighter he had out of his pocket, holding it a few inches from you, signaling that he was ready whenever you were.

carefully, you put your face a little closer to the flame, just enough for the end of the blunt to ignite an addicting burnt orange color.

you slumped up against the wall, sliding onto the floor.

theo watched as you took another drag, letting the smoke take its effect on you this time.

"what are you doing alone?" theo asked, which he regretted immediately, as it sounded like he was a complete and utter creep. "i mean, why have you decided to take a break from the party?"

your eyes fluttered open before answering, "i found out the guy i've been talking to had a girlfriend the entire time." you answered honestly, not showing a single sign of emotion. "i've been feeling foolish about it so i figured i'd take some air."

the boy hummed, "dickhead." he muttered loud enough for you to hear.

"definitely." your eyes shut again, still allowing the weed to settle in.

"what's your name?" theo asked, genuinely curious. he had seen you around before, you two were in a few classes together as well, but the both of you had never spoken.

"it's y/n y/l/n." you replied, holding the rolled paper between your index and middle. you already knew who he was. whenever snape would pick on him in your potions class, he would use his name, so you caught on. "and you're theodore nott, right?"

"yeah- yup, you're correct. just theo works too, though," he stumbled, being caught of guard by your knowledge on him. why was his heart speeding up so fast?

"i didn't ask, what are you doing here alone?" you questioned, "i thought you had that whole big and mighty friend group."

"i do, i just..." he trailed off, "wanted to take a smoke break." he shrugged.

"i get that," you sighed. "the rain is bad, don't you think?" you switched the conversation to the ruthless storm outside.

"i guess, yeah," theo said, his blunt long forgotten.

"i like the rain," you shrugged.

"yeah? i guess it can be nice sometimes, it's stunning." theo replied, looking back at you while you stare out the window. he managed to get a good look at you this time, you wore black baggy jeans, an off-the-shoulder ghost band t-shirt, and black motorcycle boots. you left your hair down and it was a bit ruffled from dancing in the slytherin common room.

you let out a cloud of smoke, "do you have a staring problem?" you joked. you felt his eyes piercing through your skin.

"uh- sorry." he said, heart racing even faster when he realized he had been caught, "you just don't seem like other girls."

"ew," you coughed, nearly choking on foggy air when he said that. "never say that again," you stated.

"you like being like everyone else?" he questioned, curious on your reaction.

"i think everyone is a bit different from each other." you said, "plus what you said was cringe."

"huh." he breathed, "my apologies."

"you're good," you said, standing up, "i'll see you around."

theo stood up quickly too, not knowing wether he should reach out a hand or go in for a hug or walk with you. "yeah, for sure." he choked out, cursing himself for the new awkwardness he had never encountered before you.

you shot him a smile before walking back into the party.

・❥・

theo walked into the slytherin common room, his best friends already yelling and joking around. he took a seat on a couch next to draco, facing mattheo and lorenzo.

"what's up, lads?" he greeted the laughing boys.

"nott, where were you last night?" mattheo smirked, thinking the taller finally had some game.

"took a break outside." theo explained, making a smoking motion with his hand.

"well, you missed out." enzo added, "the party was crazy."

"y/l/n always knows how to put on a party." draco chuckled, remembering the events of last night.

"it was y/n's party?" theo wondered why he had never heard your name before the party.

"yes?" enzo nodded slowly, thinking it was common sense.

"she always throws a party before summer, before the heat gets too much, you really didn't know that?" mattheo said, tilting a head at him.

"speak of the devil." draco said as you walked in.

"did you guys do the potions homework?" you questioned as you got closer, slightly waving and smiling at theo to acknowledge him.

"blimey, it's the second time this week." draco rolled his eyes as he reached for his satchel, removing a piece of parchment covered in writing, "bring it back before tuesday."

"thanks, malfoy!" you drew out the y, smiling at the other boys as you walked out of the room, again.

once the doors thumped close, the boys began hollering at theo.

"we saw that, mate!" mattheo teased, "did you run off with y/l/n?" draco and enzo snickered as they saw his face turn red.

"no, she just joined me for a smoke last night, is all." theo said, shutting down the allegations that made his heart speed up and yearn for you.

"for sure." mattheo said before chatting about the party. something about enzo finally meeting someone he got along with and found attractive, and another thing about draco losing miserably at cup pong, and one more thing about him being able to dance with gorgeous girls.

theo wasn't really paying attention, though.

you were looping around his brain the entire time the boys talked.

you were thunderstorms.

・❥・

part two maybe? lmk!!

reblogs, likes, and replies are ALWAYS appreciated <3

dni if you support pro-life, racism, homophobia, transphobia, antisemitism, sexism or anything along those lines!

#theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x fem!reader #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott x reader #theo nott #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x fem!reader #theodore nott imagine #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x you #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x fem!reader

576 notes · View notes

space-mango-company · 5 days

Text

Stranger | Chapter 5

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: Descriptions of Violence, Mentions of Cannibalism

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut, POV Second Person, No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon What Canon

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Not proofread!! Holy moly. Here it is, folks. The scene that inspired this whole fic. I had fun writing this so I really hope you enjoy it. Once again, I appreciate everyone who likes, comments, and/or leaves kudos so much. I really started this fic for myself but good golly, that dopamine rush whenever I get a notif might be more addicting than spice. I'm glad to be part of the bald man brigade.

Also, I can't believe I'm only now questioning why I decided to write this in the second person? I guess maybe I thought this fic would be a lot shorter and not that deep, lol. At this point 'y/n' probably has enough personality to just be a straight-up OC. It's funnier because I don't even find second-person or y/n fics any more engaging either. I always detach myself by giving 'y/n' her own name and only seeing her as a character in the fic.

ANYWAY, sorry to ramble. Stay safe and have a good one, ya weirdos.

You step out into the dark cul-de-sac of the guest hall, illuminated only by the large suspensor lamp in the middle. Feyd-Rautha looks you up and down, seemingly entranced by how the dim light casts his shadow on your modest dress. Atreides blue, he recognized.

"Trying to sneak into my rooms again?" you say arms crossed, leaning on your door. "I didn't appreciate the last time, by the way."

"It's my house," he says cooly, "and I did knock this time."

You stare at him indifferently.

"Quite the display from you yesterday morning, using The Voice on me." His voice low and raspy, "I should have you drawn and quartered."

You scoff in his face. "You almost choked me to death. Are you trying to start a war?"

He takes a step closer and his face is inches from yours, you can feel his breath on your cheek, "I didn't think I'd like you this much, little hawk."

"What do you want, Feyd-Rautha?" you had no patience for him right now.

"Ah," he steps back, a dark smile on his face, "I've been waiting to hear my name from your tongue." His hand reaches for your lips. "I've grown quite tired of 'na-Baron'."

You grab his wrist before he can touch you. "If you're only here to toy with me, I would rather be left alone to prepare for bed." You release his hand and turn to open your door.

Feyd-Rautha props an arm against the doorway to block you. "We're to be married in three days," he says, "and I just can't seem to bring myself to let go of my 'harpies', as you called them." He meets your gaze. "You said you'd kill them. Did you mean that?"

You look up at him with steely eyes. He towered over you but your heart felt no fear, "Yes."

His coy smile returns. "Good. Come to my training hall tomorrow," he says, walking away.

"What?" you call after him.

"Dress to fight," he says over his shoulder. "I want to see what you can do, Atreides."

You needed no help from Zora in putting on a loose shirt and long pants. The plain beige outfit certainly wasn't as elegant as the dresses you had been wearing so far. But it was comfortable and you could fight in it, which was all that mattered. Still, you look yourself in the mirror. The soft, airy fabrics draped over your figure well but perhaps you were not in the best shape as you once were. Your muscle mass is much less than your brother's and he wasn't particularly built himself. You admit you did wane off your training sessions with Gurney and Paul leading up to your departure from Caladan. Nevertheless, you were still a skilled warrior. Another secret you've been keeping from the Harkonnens.

You were 14 when you started learning the blade. Watching Paul, 2 years your senior, practice with the Atreides Warmaster lit a fire in you. You didn't hesitate to pester your father to let you train with them and of course, there was nothing he could deny his darling daughter. You were a fierce and determined student. Gurney Halleck was a man you genuinely believed to be one of the best fighters in the Imperium, along with Duncan Idaho. Gurney would train you and Paul on even days. On odd days, your mother would teach you the Weirding Way. These lessons, much like the rest of your mother's teachings, your father wanted to know nothing about. After becoming decently adept at Prana-Bindu and gaining almost complete physical control of your body, Lady Jessica insisted that you also be skilled in the Bene Gesserit style of combat.

You were far from mastery in either but the combination of both trainings made you a formidable fighter. Despite this, you could never seem to beat your brother in a sparring match. A fact that frustrated you to no end, though you appreciated that Paul never went easy on you. You'd always blame it on him having trained for longer than you have. But in truth, you knew there had just always been something special about him.

"Are you ready, my lady?" Zora's soft voice wakes you from your thoughts.

"Hm? Right. Yes, let's go." You quickly tie your hair out of the way and grab your father's dagger from atop your dresser.

There was no fanfare when you entered the hall. On one end, the na-Baron's concubines sat chained on the steps of the shallow recessed pit in their leathers, their glares piercing through you. Your eyes linger on them as Feyd-Rautha and his Warmaster greet you.

"I was starting to think my lady bride was bluffing," Feyd-Rautha says as you approach him. The older man beside him offers you a polite bow.

"Perhaps she wasn't so keen on your brutish games," you bite back. "Your lord uncle won't be joining us?"

"No," Feyd-Rautha crosses his arms, "but he'll be hearing about your victory. Or your demise."

"Right. Well, I assume you'll be releasing them from those chains," you nod towards his pets "Not sure why they're necessary."

"Oh, trust me, little hawk. They're necessary." Feyd-Rautha motions to a servant.

"Your blade and shield, my lady," they bow, presenting you with a knife and a small device you recognize as a Holtzman shield.

"I've brought my own," you unsheath your father's dagger. You contemplate taking the shield but remembering that the na-Baron forwent it during his gladiator fight, you decide to do so as well. "They've no weapons anyway, the shield seems pointless."

Feyd-Rautha shrugs, "If you insist."

You take a deep breath, "Let's get this over with."

You lightly stretch as you walk down the steps of the shallow pit to stand opposite the na-Baron's concubines. You had come into this on the pretense of righteousness. For Iassa, you told yourself. But you've known her a mere two days. A part of you wanted to show off. You were good and you knew it. You could probably kill anyone in this room, even Feyd-Rautha. You craved the respect of the people here: the Harkonnens, the people of Geidi Prime. You figured this was one way to get it.

Feyd-Rautha walks around the pit to one of his concubines and kneels to whisper something in her ear. You assume a fighting stance when he moves to release her from the chains. When you meet her eyes, they are filled with feral bloodlust.

Suddenly, you weren't so bold. The veil of courage you have maintained since you arrived, even when Feyd-Rautha had your neck in his grip, is torn apart when you face this woman. You could tell no part of her would hesitate to rip your throat out with her bare teeth. You were almost relieved they were unarmed, but you weren't sure if that would make them any less lethal.

Fear grew in your chest and you had less than a moment to recite the Litany in your head before the concubine lunged at you.

You crouch down in time and slash at her abdomen as she approaches you. You turn to face her on the other side of the pit and she wastes no time in attacking you again. She attempts to grab your armed hand but you take hold of her wrist first and move to pin it behind her back. Quickly, your blade drags across her throat and she falls to your feet.

The kill has not yet registered in your mind but your heart is racing. You can almost hear your blood coursing through your veins. You held your arms outstretched, your eyes focused ahead, ready for the next one.

Across the pit, Feyd-Rautha licks his lips, smiling as he releases his second concubine. This time, you walk toward her while she moves to attack you. You clock her head with the pommel of your dagger and knock her a few steps back. She reaches a hand to wipe the blood beginning to drip out of her nose. After examining it, she snarls and bares her sharp teeth at you. Your mind is blank now. She dodges your first slash then manages to land a blow to your jaw. You seethe from the pain. You spit out the mixture of blood and saliva filling your mouth. The anger at the hit drives you to rush at her. Seeing an opening, you duck down to her waist and stab her twice. As she falls to her knees, the look of determination doesn't leave her eyes until the very last moment.

When you turn around, Feyd-Rautha has already released the last concubine. The ruthless scream she lets out disorients you. She pounces and knocks you over. She straddles you and pins your arms to the ground, your blade sliding inches away. She screams again in your face at the death of her sisters. You wedge your right knee between you and her abdomen, the only thing keeping her teeth from reaching your throat. You grunt as you struggle to free your hands. In your periphery, you see Feyd-Rautha, wielding his own blade, take a step into the pit.

"GET BACK," you roar, and he is powerless to refuse.

You turn back to your opponent still on top of you and you butt her head with your own. She loosens her grip and you kick her off to hastily crawl to your weapon. When she reorients herself and attempts to grab you again, you hook a knee under her arm and flip the both of you over. With your weight on her chest and both your knees pinning her arms down, she thrashes underneath you, claws digging into your right ankle. You take your blade in both hands and her screaming is silenced when you sink your knife deep into her heart.

When you rise, the room is quiet. Your chest heaves. The stark white ceiling lights don't help the lightheadedness that begins to wash over you in the post-adrenaline rush. Feyd-Rautha says something from behind you but his speech is garbled as you reel from the thrill of what just transpired. You were electrified. You almost... wanted more.

Then, the realization of the revolting scene you are in settles upon you and you are knocked off your high. You look at the leather-clad bodies scattered around you, the grotesque way they lay on the floor, the red blood pooling around them made brighter by the sterile grayness of the room. You did this.

A hand on your shoulder snaps you out of it. In reflex, you turn and raise your blade at the offender.

Feyd-Rautha holds his hands up, "Whoa, easy, Atreides. Trying to kill me? Don't want to start a war, do you?"

You yield your weapon. Your eyes dodge his as you look to your feet and try to steady your breathing.

"Enjoy your first taste of blood?" Feyd-Rautha says, the look in his eyes indecipherable to you. He raises a hand and swipes his thumb on your cheek. It comes away covered in crimson.

You gasp and reach for your face with your own hand. You don't even know if it's your blood or theirs, or when it got on you. Your heart pounded, unable to decide whether you were repulsed or proud.

"Look at you," he says licking the red off his finger. You could not help but stare at him through the strands of your hair that had come undone in the fighting. "You're beautiful like this," his hand reaches for your face again.

"No," you say low and quiet when you swat his hand away, "you're sick." You didn't know if you meant him or yourself. You calmly turn to leave. No one stops you when you make your way up the shallow steps of the pit. As you pass Iassa—no, Zora—by the doorway, you tell her flatly, "Prepare a bath."

You had never taken a life before. Today, you took three. You were glad you didn't know their names. You decided you'd never find out.

After Zora pours a final pitcher of hot water into the bath, you tell her, "You may go. I'll dress myself later, thank you."

She bows and makes her way out of your rooms.

In your solitude, you bring your knees to your chest. You had been quick to wipe the blood off your cheek before you even reached your quarters. Now, you cup the water into your hands and rub it into your face, the slight sting of the heat comforting you.

He was a cruel man, your betrothed. This is what you've decided. Having you kill the concubines he claimed to want to keep so much. But wasn't it you who threatened to kill them? He started it, you argue with yourself, when he had Iassa killed. You felt like a child.

When you used to hear of Feyd-Rautha's exploits, you had to mask your disgust. And yet now, you had killed so easily in that pit as he had in the arena. What was this place doing to you?

When you left Caladan, Paul had never killed anyone either. You wonder if he ever does, would he feel the same exhilaration you did when you slit that first concubine's throat. No. Your brother was fierce but, like your father, he had a good heart. You beat him by three. You hoped it would stay that way.

You think about your future here, marrying Feyd-Rautha. Producing heir after heir under the Baron's watchful eye. You were a broodmare. Despite all your fancy training and education. Despite your little demonstration earlier. It was the bitter truth.

You missed home. You missed walking along the beach at night with your father. You missed your mother's gentle hands brushing your hair. You missed the banter and teasing with your brother. You missed Gurney, and Duncan, and the cold breeze on your balcony, and getting to roam free and going anywhere you pleased. When the tears come, you sink deep into the bath so they might fade away in the water.

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore @bornslippys @vexis-world @aoi-targaryen @alexandrainlove @mamawiggers1980 @sstardussty @aboutthenabaron

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha fic #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #atreides reader #dune #dune part two #space-mango-company #fic: stranger

268 notes · View notes

swordy-da-goat · 20 days

Note

(last ask for a while bc I feel like I'm nagging you sorryy)

I thought road wiz was like an scp, and now we have hazard monster.

Anyway I wonder how either of them would react to being treated like scps? Hazard would be a keter for sure.

Also if you made a road wiz plush I'd 100% buy it I love him sm

got carried away my bad

The Road Wiz

Item# : SCP-████

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: Contained within a Standard Secure Humanoid Containment Cell in ██████, Sector-██ at Site-██. SCP-████ will often teleport out of their containment cell for an unprecedented amount of time before teleporting back. They are allowed to freely walk around the foundation as their skills and “magic” are very useful in securing anomalies, reducing injuries and casualties, and dealing with containment breaches.

Description: A humanoid entity (hard to distinguish if SCP-████ is a human or some other entity due to their hat and scarf obscuring facial view. Request to remove hat was met with opposition) wearing a hat resembling an orange traffic cone with one big and small white, reflective stripes, an orange safety vest with a long cloak attached from the backend, a yellow and black safety coverall, and long black leather and rubber gloves and boots.

SCP-████ is also in possession of a long black staff with a ring on the tip of unknown material. This staff is able to produced anomalous properties which can be better described as “magic.” Their “magic” seems to be a parody of signs, spells being correlated by the top of their staff in a hologram visual. One example being the staff projecting a deer sign when generating a glowing holographic version with mass of any of the Cervidae family.

Addendum 1: Discovery

SCP-████ was first captured near American state highway ██. The foundation was alerted when nearby police claimed that quote, “a portal just f█cking opened in the middle of the lobby where then a weirdly dressed guy wearing a cone on their head kicked a guy through saying to arrest him for drunk driving.” All personnel in the police station were given Class A amnestics. Foundation personnel were then deployed to the last place SCP-████ was spotted. Foundation were able to find SCP-████ feeding some stray dogs under American state highway ██. SCP-████ willingly agreed to come with the foundation for questioning.

Addendum 2: Interview

The following interview was conducted by Dr. Richards

Dr. Richards: Good afternoon SCP-████, I hope you’re feeling comfortable right now.

SCP-████: No, no, I’m fine thank you. Though I would prefer if you addressed me by “Road Wizard” or just “Wiz.” SCP-████ sounds a bit degrading.

Dr. Richards: …Noted. Anyways the foundation would like to ask you questions regarding your… job.

SCP-████: My job! Well you see Dr., as my name suggests, I am a wizard. My job is simply to keep everyone safe and responsible. The world is a very dangerous place, you SCP foundation folks would know that better than anyone about that fact!

Dr. Richards: You know of the SCP foundation?

SCP-████: Of course I do! Very big fan of your work! Trying to keep the everyone safe from all these dangerous anomalies. Kudos to you guys, kudos!

Dr. Richards: Uh, thank you? Anyways, can you detail how you usually preform your job, or keep people “safe?”

SCP-████: Uh… I guess lecturing people on the rules and importance of road rules, filling up potholes, sticking reflective poles near edges, stuff like that. Pretty mundane huh?

Dr. Richards: What about your staff? What do you use that for?

SCP-████: Oh my staff! Well, I use it to channel my magic for the more dangerous part of my job. Magic can be real dandy in a rock slide.

Dr. Richards: I see.

Room is silent as Dr. Richard pauses to write notes.

Dr. Richards: *coughs* Um, SCP- sorry, Road Wizard. If you don’t mind me asking, I know you dub yourself as the “Road Wizard,” but is that the only safety concern you have? Or are there others like you that specialize in other hazards?

SCP-████: Funny you should ask that Dr., my real name’s actually the Safety Wizard. I just go with road because America has a crap ton of cars you know? And no, there's no one else like me so far that I know of.

Dr. Richards: So do you specialize in anything else then?

SCP-████: Sure I do! Let me just-

SCP-████ then manifests their staff from their hand which starts to emit a blue glow. A train sign then projects at the tip.

SCP-████’s outfit then suddenly shifts into a mock version of a steam engine engineer of their outfit, complete with a cap, denim overalls, vest-cloak and a yellow and black striped bandana.

SCP-████: Trains! Guess you could say I’ve become the “Rail Wizard!”

Silence.

SCP-████: Haha, sorry. There are other specialities too, but it’d probably take a while to show you all of them.

Dr. Richards: So are you able to switch forms like that?

SCP-████: That’s right miss! It’s very important to be dressed proper for any job!

SCP-████’s staff projects a car sign and outfit returns to previous description.

SCP-████: So any other questions for me Dr.? I’d love to stay and chat, but I need to be going soon.

Dr. Richards: SCP- I mean Road Wizard, you are aware that we can’t just let you go out.

SCP-████: I understand your concerns Dr., seeing what kind of place you guys run. But believe me, I’m not a dangerous guy! And it’s not like you folks can keep me in here anyways.

Dr. Richards: What do you mean by that?

SCP-████: Oh nothing. Anyways, it was nice chatting with you Dr. Richards, but I really must be on my way. See you later!

Dr. Richards: Hey, wait!

*SCP-████’s staff projects a Two Way Traffic sign and a glowing, yellow portal appeared to the right of SCP-████. SCP-████ then enters through the portal which disappears.

[END LOG]

——————————————————————————————————

The Hazard Monster

Item# : SCP-█████

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-█████ should be contained within a 5 m x 5 m x 5 m chamber of reinforced concrete. Door and windows should be tightly sealed to prevent SCP-█████ from escaping through any cracks.

Description: SCP-█████ is an amorphous, black blob which can change its mass, texture, shape, and composition through anomalous means. SCP-█████’s face appears to be an NFPA 704 Diamond symbol. Each section of diamond can open up to reveal a set of teeth or eyes (amount varies). SCP-█████ normally uses its anomalous abilities to inflict injuries on people. The relationship between SCP-████, or as they dubbed themself, the Road Wizard, is very negative.

Addendum 1: Discovery

Foundation was first alerted of SCP-█████ when reports of multiple incidents were reported by the people in the town of █████████. Residents were reported being injured by a black shapeshifting blob. Foundation, with the help of the Road Wizard, were able to track down SCP-██████ and capture it. All town residents were given Class A amnestics.

#the road wiz #hazard monster #myart #sqwonks #this was fun to make #long post #the numbers are blocked out because they’re not official

170 notes · View notes

yxami · 11 months

Note

IDK HOW TO REQUEST BUT CAN YOU PLEASE DO SOMETHING OF JOCK TAKING READER ON A DATE TO THE PARK OR GARDEN

I hope you enjoy this! Thanks for requesting! <3

description: yandere jock x gn reader, going on a date, fluff, yandere fluff, named him Ethan, I wonder if it’s too plain, omg also I’ve noticed I haven’t made anything yandere of him.

You dressed up, something you hardly did unless it was something required or you were going out. You anxiously looked in the large mirror you had, wondering if the outfit looked good on you.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket, you took it out to see who it was and it was Ethan, the jock that you got close with over the weeks passing. Even if he used to bully you, he redeemed himself, insisting that he would no longer treat you that way.

You answered to hear his excited voice boom about how he was outside and to come out whenever you were done. You told him you were almost done and you started rushing after the call ended.

You grabbed all the necessities for going out, repeating the items in your head to make sure you had everything. You locked the door behind you as you left, nervously entering the passenger seat of his car.

Ethan had asked you out on a date the last time the two of you were at school and you accepted. You honestly would’ve never guessed that he was interested in you.

“You look so cute! Why have I never seen you wear that?” He scanned the outfit that you chose. Something you never wore in front of him before and he loved it!

“I don’t know, if you like it.. I’ll wear it more often!” You smiled, lighting up from his compliment.

The two of you made your way to the park, you could already see the dogs that were being rowdy with their owners. A little dog yipped at the two of you when it was walking by. The two of you entered the park, finding a good bench to sit on.

“How many dogs do you have?” You looked at him when he was gushing over a cute dog that went up to him. The dog was wagging its tail, circling around his feet and awaiting pets. It seemed like he was a magnet to them.

“None, I’ve always wanted a giant Pit-Bull. All of them are such cuddle monsters, or maybe even an Australian Shepard even if they got a fuck ton of hair to deal with” He pet the dog’s giant head, rubbing the side of its face until it was called away by a loud whistle.

“Really? You’ve had 3 dogs approach you already and I haven’t gotten a single one” You smiled, enjoying the view while you spoke. This park had a lake in the middle of it, to view from the high hill tops and side walks alongside it.

“It’s all about patience, or just using a high pitch voice to call one over” He did exactly what he told you when he saw an adorable golden retriever pass by. A quick “Hey little guy” in a high tone got the dog to jump into Ethan’s lap.

He laughed, unable to push the dog away from lapping at his face. The dog’s tail wagged at a fast rate, enjoying the attention it was getting.

“I’m jealous” You viewed the sight of him getting another dog’s attention.

“Here bud, go into this lap” He pat your thigh, trying to attract the dog to you. Your cheeks felt a little red from his hand on your thigh, but you were quickly distracted from the dog voluntarily slipping into your lap.

The giant weight of the golden fur ball was on you as you pat its head and gushed over the fluffiness of its fur.

Ethan adored your joy filled expression so he took a selfie of him putting a peace sign and you further in the picture petting the dogs head. He’d definitely post that on his ig when he got home.

“Honey! Oh my gosh, I was wondering where she went” The slightly frantic owner clipped her dog’s collar back on with a leash.

“Your dog is so sweet!” You brushed off the yellow fur from your clothes.

“You gotta see how many times I have to drag her away from strangers!” She laughed, seeing how Honey still wanted to play with the two of you.

“Hope she doesn’t run into anymore! Good luck” Ethan grinned. The owner was already being dragged away by her dog before she could say bye. The dog probably wanted to go meet new people.

Ethan suggested the idea to go eat some Chinese food from this store he loves going to. He also knew a good place to relax while eating, but it was a surprise. You agreed with the idea, curious about what he meant by “ultimate surprise”

He ordered the food, insisting to pay even though you had pulled out your card. He immediately gave his card after the amount was told. You pouted sighing, he decided to comfort you by patting your head like you were an upset cat.

“I should pay after-all! I invited you remember?” He pulled at your cheek, enjoying the now calm look on you. You looked endearing when you were pouting too.

“That’s true” You helped grab the other white bag that held the delicious food the two of you were about to grub on. As soon as he took you to the surprise place that he insisted had to be secret.

Once he drove to the area, you looked around wondering where you were. You had never gone here before, it looked like a place to walk around. Sort of like another park, but it looked much nature filled than the last.

He made you close your eyes as the two of you walked further into the place. When he told you to open them you saw a plethora of beautiful flowers. The trees were in full bloom and the flowers seemed to dance around with the small winds that pushed them.

“I know you like hanging out in the garden area because nobody really goes to it so I thought you’d like this!” Ethan put the bags of food on the nearest picnic bench. It was wooden and sturdy so it wouldn’t break even if it looked a little overgrown with plants at the bottom.

“There’s so much..!” You looked around, fully absorbing the view of the colorful plants and flowers. The trees were humongous, leaves softly flew in the air while you watched the tree.

“Pretty view right?” He sat on the bench, patting the place next to him. He set out half of the food while you sat down. You helped unpack the rest and the two of you ate.

You pointed out the squirrels running around and playing, even the birds were chirping at each other, having no fear in trying to steal your food. Everything about the place was so alive, you’d definitely come back.

There was hardly any other people too! He must’ve picked out the perfect time that hardly held any people.

He admired how you intently scanned the nature that ran around while still eating your food. He scooted closer to you, leaning his big frame alongside yours.

“You tired?” You asked him, assuming he was leaning against you to rest your eyes.

“Nope, just wanted to be closer to you” He brought his food closer, sitting upright to continue eating. His thigh was touching yours, a perfect proximity for him. Even if it made you a little nervous at how close he was.

Ethan scarfed down the food quicker then you did, it was delicious and still warm in his mouth. You ate slowly, having to nudge him away every-time he tried to steal a spoonful. After seeing his sad pout you gave him some.

Today had made you happy, or maybe it was him that made you cheerful on how you spent every hour with him. You liked him, a lot. Every passing thought that involved him asking you out on another day made you giddy.

After the sun was setting, he brought you home, dropping you off at your door step.

“See ya at school?” He grinned, content with the amount of time he got to spend with you today. It was always important to him to treasure the time the two of you had.

“Mhm, see you tomorrow!” He always made your stomach twist with strong feelings, and right now your stomach was filled with a fluttery feeling.

And thanks for today, Ethan” You placed a quick kiss on his cheek, having to stand on your tippy toes to reach it.

“No problem…!” He waved, running off to his car after you shut the door.

The two of you unknowingly shared the same strong heat on your cheeks. He was sat in his car cupping his cheeks, feeling the warmth. He couldn’t believe you kissed him!

You were in your house rolling around in your bed, embarrassed and squealing at the fact that you managed to kiss him!

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #male yandere #pls request #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #gn reader #yandere jock #yandere fluff #fluff #yandere oc #yandere dating #soft yandere #soft fluff #yan fluff #ethanmyoc

575 notes · View notes

oopspeter · 6 months

Text

We'll never have sex

SUMMARY: Returning from a year long mission should be a relief, but the terrors from those hard months have followed you back home. Struggling to find comfort in your old ways, a certain co-worker introduces you to his own salvation-- distraction.

WARNINGS: 16+ rating for mature themes, blood, allusions to torture, foul language, minor to medium injury descriptions, weapons and violence.

WC: 3.6K

NOTES: First fic! Please let me know what you think-- it hasn't been proofread very well.

"Are you taller than the last time I saw you?" You tease, in awe of his largely built physique.

"I guess everything finally loosened after being off of the ice for so long," Bucky says rather non-chalant.

"Has the giant stick finally fallen out of your ass then?" You quip with a cheeky grin.

"Never," he shakes his head with an equally matched smile.

"And decided to evolve from that 'lord and saviour' haircut?" You motion to his new trim.

"I've decided that look only suits the holiest of men, which of course I don't qualify for," he instinctively runs his fingers through the chopped locks.

The sound of a heavy heel echoes on the polished concrete, a grand entrance for the one and only Tony Stark.

"Hermit and the recluse!" His hands spread out like an awful gesture of welcome.

"I thought you were too old for modern hip-hop references, Anthony," you push your lips into a thin line, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

"Puh-lease, as if gramps here even knows what I'm yapping about," Tony points his thumb over his shoulder at Bucky as he walks past.

Even though he was totally right, Bucky also refrained from producing any sort of a reaction.

"Here to spread anything useful or are you just trying to be a dick?" Your current distaste for the playboy was evident in your tone, but it was nothing new. Deep down inside you did feel a sense of protectiveness towards him, as did he to you.

Opening the large, stainless steel refrigerator that looked like it could hold at least six months worth of food at a single time, he snatched a bottle of lemon water before slamming the door shut again.

"Since you're back, Banner wants to do a few procedural run throughs just to check up on your health," he flicks the cap off of the bottle which goes flying into the bin. "Oh, and the Star Spangled Banner would like to see you as well-- not the Bruce Banner, but the Star Spangled one."

"You can just say Steve, you know that right?" You squint at him as he daintily sips from the mouthpiece of the bottle.

"Just proving my vocabulary has extended further than the most generic white-man name in America," he shrugs coolly, and you kinda' wanna punch him in his smug face.

The ex-soldier stands as still as stone beside you during your exchange with Tony, if you couldn't see the gentle rise and fall of his chest you'd think he was dead with the lack of noise emitting. Choosing to ignore him, the man takes the cue to leave the room, still feverishly sipping the bottle of lemony water. Once the sound of his heavy heels disappeared out of the kitchen and down the hallway, you noticed how Bucky's shoulders relax.

"Bet you're dreading being back, huh?" You allow to corner of your mouth to turn upwards slightly.

"I could say the same thing to you."

There's an unspoken tension in the air, something far from awkward but not any nearer to comfortable either. Had it been a year and a half since you last saw him? On his six month mission to Angola, at the fourth month you had been sent off on a mission of your own in the Pacific islands to track down an old HYDRA associate who had formulated a plan to obliterate the entire planet from his tiny laboratory in the middle of bum-fuck no where.. no biggie, right?

The seemingly short mission of yours turned into a solo, twelve month exhibition trying to chase a man who was half the size of yourself and almost as clever. Eventually when you caught up to him and the few friends he had made along the way, the year job was over in thirty seconds. Underwhelming.

Sure, you’d escaped death a few times, but not by the man who you’d been hunting. Turns out there were a few other undesirables along your path that you just couldn’t miss the opportunity to lock up. Maybe that was a bit of a roadblock, too.

“I don’t want to keep Bruce waiting, I’ll uh.. see you later?” It was a hopeful question.

“Certainly,” he nods his head in reply, and your heart skips a beat or two.

You blame the heart issues on being so emotionally disconnected from anyone for the past twelve months.

The appointment with Bruce was swift, you chat for more of the time than you did actually doing the check up. He prescribed you with a few pain meds, re-dressed some wounds you’d brought back with you and altered your fitness plan to better accommodate your new injuries. Bruce had a way when it came to making people feel safe, despite the fact any moment a big green monster could jump out and crush you.

There were the usual questions like, how has your diet been-- have you been getting enough sleep-- are the night terrors still occurring-- any unusual pains-- are you sexually active?

The answer has always been something along the lines of nutritious, not at all, all of the time, plenty and no.

It's hard to maintain a sex life being away all the time and locking yourself in your room when you are around, even harder trying to manage a relationship. Sure, you've dated before, dabbled in a love life or two before inevitably deciding it wasn't for you. It never will be for you.

It's far past nightfall by the time you actually decide to leave your room, walking barefoot through the long, cold halls of the tower before finding yourself in the kitchen. Your stomach growls to protest your hunger, throat scratchy and dry as symptoms of your thirst. The automatic lights flicker on the moment you walk through the threshold into the kitchen. A pristine, clean kitchen soon to become the next victim of your horrific cooking skills.

First of all you grab a glass from it's respective cabinet, running the water from the tap to fill it up. Your lips meet the mouth of the glass and you drink, quenching your thirst with a relieved sigh. The water here is refreshing, hygienic, in great contrast to what you've been drinking for the past year. Feeling the coolness in your palms you go to take another sip.

It's metallic, tastes like you've drunk straight from a muddy puddle. The water they have just thrown on your face definitely mixed with the blood dripping from your nose and clinging to your lips. Coughing up a mix of flehm and mucky water, you thrash around in the flimsy wooden chair you've been restrained to.

The room smells of mildew, wet dog fur, and something that is heavily rotting. You can blame the stink of decomposition on whatever is beneath that blue tarp tucked away in the far corner of the room. There's no light aside from a single bulb eerily hanging above your head like some old, cliché horror movie.

Your wrists hurt more than usual and this time you can't blame it on early on-set arthritis, but instead the finger-marks imprinted in a purplish green and the thick rope that rubs against them. The silhouette hiding in the dark approaches you in the light, the indistinguishable appearance morphing into that of a tall man with a mask that hid his face and resembled a smiling monkey. It would be the least menacing thing in the room if he wasn't wielding a knife as large as your forearm.

It's silent aside from the obnoxious drip from the ceiling on the tarp. Drip. Drip. Drip. The face of the knife shines in your eye, reflecting from the light of the bulb hanging from the ceiling. His feet drag along the crusty floor, it's evident he has a limp by the way he carries himself towards you. If you had a free leg or two you'd drive your foot straight into his knee to completely eliminate that problem for him, forever; but how tightly they had bound you prevented even a nudge of movement.

The masked man is close enough for your knees to touch, taking the tip of the sharp knife and dragging it across your cheek to leave a light mark that brings blood in it's wake. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of even a slight whimper which evidentially leaves him unsatisfied, because the knife leaves your face and dives into your--

"Hey, are you okay?"

The glass in your hand shatters completely, hundreds of shards diving and piercing the skin on your palm, the water that was left now drenching your socks. Were you holding it so tightly that the sudden fright made it break?

Swinging around with a crimson hand you find an equally shocked Bucky, lips slightly ajar as a physical indication of his surprise. Not even a moment later he's rushing over with a dishtowel to wrap around your bleeding hand, the white terry cloth quickly becoming stained. You can tell he's panicked by the rise and fall of his shoulders, yet you are struggling to even breathe.

The rotting and mildew is replaced by lemon disinfectant and lingering cooked onion. A dark, dank room now replaced by a pristine, white kitchen. The man in front of you is not a man who wears the mask of a monkey, but instead the one and only Bucky Barnes.

"Fuck, fuck," he has the towel wrapped so tightly around your palm. "We need Banner--"

"No!" You interrupt him, finally finding your own voice. "I don't want to wake him, please don't disturb him."

"Then what do I do?" You can tell he is trying his best to keep his composure and not snap at you for being so stubborn like he has so many times before.

"Get the kit from under the sink, wait for the bleeding to calm and I can take the remaining shards out of my hand," you instruct.

"I will take the remaining shards out of your hand," he corrects. "Keep pressure on it please."

His callous hand places your other hand on top of the towel, pushing the back of it down to apply the same pressure he was before. He's rushing to grab the kit from beneath the kitchen sink, taking his hand to shove all of the bleach bottles aside instead of carefully rummaging through.

You've already made your way to the island, taking a seat at the bar stool and leaning your elbow against the marble. It fucking stings. You have no idea how you transported all the way back into the room after shoving the memory so far down to the depths where you thought it could never recover.

You take in his evening look, those baggy grey sweatpants a signature at-home look of his. The creased t-shirt a dark navy and border lining a compression tee from the way it hugs his torso and biceps so tightly. There are bags under his eyes like there always is, and his brows are pulled tightly together in deep concern.

Your heart does that concerning thing again. Perhaps the bloodloss?

He stands beside you at the end of the counter, the fine marble a slight barrier between your bodies. He unzips the kit with such force you're surprised the entire thing hasn't ripped. He's panicked, you can tell.

"Hey," your uninjured hand reaches out to lightly touch your wrist. "Breathe, it's okay, I'm not dying."

Bucky pauses, and he isn't breathing-- until he does. His tense shoulders drop and his face finally relaxes, then he moves your hand back to apply pressure to the towel.

The silence between you is intense and lasts for what feels like forever. You can tell there's a question on the tip of his tongue that he's too afraid to ask, and you've got a feeling you're not quite sure how to answer it either why. You're not sure why you broke the glass, or why you became absent for so long, or why you were back in that room again.

"Why are you awake?" He interrupts your escape into your own head.

"I couldn't sleep," you answer honestly. "Neither could you?"

Bucky shakes his head in reply. "No, I couldn't."

"Never can." You both say in unison.

There's a pause.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," he doesn't look you in the eyes, instead stares at the red cloth covering your hand.

"You didn't mean to," you shake your head with reassurance, offering a small smile to show that you aren't upset with him at all.

"What if I did?" The corner of his lip upturns.

"Then we'd have a bit of a problem, wouldn't we?" Your tone is playful.

"How about we leave the sparring for after, when all of the glass is out of your hand y'know," he shrugs jokingly.

"Right," you nod your head in agreeance, pulling the towel back to reveal the palm of your hand.

It's definitely not the prettiest thing you've ever seen, but not the worst either. There's only one significantly deep cut but the rest just brushed the surface few layers of skin. Bucky is quick to get to work with the tweezers, disinfectant and plasters.

As he works on mending your hand you can't help but look at his face.

Compared to the last time you saw him there's a scar or two more on his right cheekbone, a significant healed slash across the bridge of his nose, a few extra wrinkles in the corner of his eyes. The stubble on his jaw, chin and upper lip is well maintained and lacks intensity on his neck. The cropped look suits him, hints of grey coming through as a reminder of his aging body now that he has been off the all the chemicals and the ice.

Your eyes trace his side profile, from his hairline to his forehead, eyebrows to the tip of his nose, nose to his lips, lips to his chin and then back to his lips. They're pursed as a habit of concentration, blue eyes trained on the task at hand (literally).

Though it stings, it's practically painless with the way he leans into the counter to reach you. Your heart is skipping again, but this time you think you know why.

"Done," he claps his hands together. "I definitely recommend seeing Banner tomorrow though, even though I spend my weekends fixing myself up I sure as hell ain't a doctor."

"You did a mighty fine job anyways, Mr Barnes," you admire his handy work, though you definitely need that deeper cut a proper look at tomorrow. It'll definitely stop the bleeding and keep it all together for the meantime.

The tension resumes it's place between you, it's palpable.

Your stomach growls in the quiet room.

"Are you hungry?" He quirks a brow.

"Yeah, I was initially in here to cook," you nod your head and rub your forearm with your uninjured hand sheepishly. "Kinda' foiled now." You wave your now bandaged hand.

"Can I take you somewhere?" He's polite, and looks at you like an expectant puppy. You can't help but grin.

"Sure."

It’s a stones throw, or two, from the tower before you finally arrive at your destination. The roaring of his motorbike falls to silence as he uses his heel to push out the kickstand, leaning the bike on it and throwing his leg over to hop off. Reaching his hand out he offers to help you down, which you gracefully accept, placing your hand in the palm of his own and jumping out of your seat.

Dinner was gorgeous. Some little, family owned, Thai place hidden in Brooklyn, where the women knew Bucky’s name and the men shook his hand. They presented you both with a free entrée. It sure as hell made you forget about that little episode in the kitchen. The second the food met your tongue you practically melted into your seat, and Bucky laughed as if to say ‘I know, right!’

Conversation flowed easily, any moment of silent was just a cause of food being stuffed into your mouths. He didn’t ask why you couldn’t sleep, or why you were in such a state and broke the glass. Bucky knew you’d tell him when you were ready.

A shared plate of Khao Niew Ma Maung and a more than generous tip later, you find yourself standing outside of the door to your room. Laughter echoes down the empty, dimly lit hall as you keep at least a foot between you— not daring to even brush arms. His strong featured are illuminated by the shadows, and that funny feeling rests heavily in your chest.

There’s a blanket of silence that falls between you two, not wanting this quiet moment to end. You can see the gentle rise and fall of his chest, and if the super soldier hearing was true he’d definitely be able to hear the heavy beat of your heart.

“Thank you,” you break the silence. “I— tonight was lovely.”

Bucky hums. “It was.”

Neither of you move a muscle, an invitation lingering on the tip of your tongue.

You open your mouth to speak. “Do you—”

“Yes, please.”

Inside your room is sweet, the bed is made with the cosiest of sheets, books stack shelves accompanied by little trinkets you display proudly. Flicking a match you ignite your pumpkin-scented candle for a source of light, the blinds already automatically pulled down on the floor-to-ceiling windows. If the crisp, untouched sheets were not enough of a sign that you couldn’t find rest, perhaps the growing bags under your eyes were.

Respectfully he kicks his shoes off at the door before stepping on your plush carpet, shrugging off his own jacket and neatly placing it on the back of your desk chair. He’s never been in your room, no one has besides Banner who stumbled in panicked to find you a shaking mess on the floor. That’s a story for another time.

You lay on top the bedspread and rest your head on the plush pillow, hands intertwining on your stomach as you stare at the ceiling. Letting out a gentle sigh you feel the mattress dip to the right of your feet.

“You can lay with me, don’t be shy.”

He’s hesitant to do so, but you can feel the warmth of his body as he lays parallel to yourself. You can smell his cologne and it’s much nicer than your expensive candle.

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” he motions with his hand that you can see in your peripherals.

“You thought I’d be happy with the Stark furniture they so kindly gifted us all when we first moved in?” You put a certain emphasis on the word, which causes him to chuckle. The bed shakes under his weight, and the butterflies flutter.

“I think I broke the bed frame on the third day,” he shuffles beside you, you can tell there’s a smile on his face that matches yours.

“Holy shit, who did you do?”

“No— no— not from that!” He’s quick to jump in and defend himself, evidently flustered. “Turns out the billionaire couldn’t spare the few extra dollars to buy something that could hold 260lbs.”

“So what, you were just sleeping and it collapsed beneath you?” You turn your head slightly to glance at his face.

“I mean I kinda’ face planted on it after I got home from a frustrating mission, and it just splintered beneath me.”

“Oh god,” you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle a giggle. “I would’ve paid to see that.”

“I was pissed,” he shakes his head, turning it slightly to look into your eyes. “I stormed through the complex and kicked open Stark’s door.”

“Did you get a new bed frame?”

“No, my mattress is still on the floor.”

“I think you need to make another complaint to head office then.”

“You bet,” he shakes his head with a heavy sigh, but the upturn of his mouth tells you that it’s the least of his worries right now.

There’s a certain tension in the air as his cerulean eyes drown in your own, nothing but the crackling of the candle wick and your combined breaths filling the void.

“Thank you, for taking me out tonight,” your eyes trace his jaw to his lips before flicking back to his own. “I—I wasn’t doing too well.”

“I know,” he nods his head in understanding. “I should be thanking you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mrs Nguyen so happy to see me walk through that door with someone other than myself.”

“Is that why she’d check on our table every five minutes despite the fact we were the only people dining there?”

He chuckles, running his hand through his chopped hair. “Seems so.”

For the first time in a very long time, you feel your lids getting heavy as your body sinks further into the mattress. There’s a warmth rather than that awful cool you feel so often, and it’s starting to become a challenge to keep your eyes open.

After what feels like an eternity of struggle you lift your head slightly to notice how Bucky’s lashes now rest on his cheeks, lips parted to let out quiet breaths. And suddenly in this moment you are safe, and everything is okay.

Your lips meet his forehead in a soft, gentle kiss. “Thank you.” Before you rest your head a little closer to his own and fall into a sleep you’d been praying for.

208 notes · View notes

alpaca-clouds · 4 months

Text

What people need to understand about the Edda

To continue on my rant about the middle ages, let me quickly verge into the area of the Norse. To start, please remember: The culture was named "the norse", viking was just a job description so to speak. The vikings were all norse, but not all norse were vikings.

Here is the thing: Every kind of fantasy nerd loves the edda. No matter whether we talk the prose edda or the poetic edda. It does also not matter whether we are talking queer fantasy nerds - or the kinda white conservative one. Sure, they gonna focus on very different parts of the edda, but they sure fucking love the edda never the less.

There is only one problem a lot of folks do not talk about: The Edda is not really a good source. Because it was not written down by the Norse, it was written down by Snorri Sturluson, who was a Christian and he very much imposed his Christian views onto the Edda. Or to phrase it differently: We actually do not know a lot about the actual Norse mythology, partly because the Norse did not use their runes to write anything down, partly because a lot of religious sites and idols were once again destroyed as Christianity became the main religion adopted by the Norse.

Loki is the best example. We... actually do not know whether there was a god named Loki in the actual Norse mythology. Because outside of the Edda we have little to no evidence for it. And what little evidence we have does not point towards Loki, the trickster, but rather Loki, god of the heath. And we can see that a lot of the symbolism used for Loki actually does mirror very well typical medieval symbolism of Satan. Which would also explain why Loki does a lot of bullshit and gets away with it - until he doesn't and ends up with that "cruel and unusual punishment", you know?

Yes, it is to assume that quite a few aspects of the Edda are very much based on actual mythology. We have enough evidence of some of the gods existing and being prayed to, like Odin and Thor for example. We also have more than enough evidence for the people believing in dwarves and elves to some degree. But the details of most of the stories? Yeah, that is actually a lot more questionable. Because if you look at it from a comparative lense, you will actually find a lot of Christian influences in there.

This is also why this is a whole field in comparative mythology: Trying to find all those Christian influences in the Edda and then analyse why they are there and go by context and historical findings to get an understanding of what the original mythology might have been before that.

I might note, that the Norse mythology still is a lot more complete in our understanding, of course, than the Gaelic mythology. Because in the way the Gaelic mythology was written down we find a lot more stuff that clearly has been added from a Christian point of view. Like the tuatha de danann being linked to fucking Moses.

But I am really begging people to not always go "Well, actually" when it comes to Norse mythology, because even if you have memorized the Edda word for word... you still are mostly guessing which parts are Christian influence and which parts are actually Norse.

#mythology #history #medieval history #norse mythology #norse #vikings #viking age #valhalla #poetic edda #christianity #comparative mythology

39 notes · View notes

allimocha · 8 months

Note

I really love your fashion choice for your characters!!

How do you design the outfits on your oc, and what are your tips in character design?

Ooof~! I answered this one HELLA late (○ ⋏ ○)…

But here's the answer for anyone interested!

Read More ⬎

Tip Numero 1:

Have a clear description of your character’s personality and fashion sense. I guess this is pretty self-explanatory lol, but it’s very helpful! If you understand enough about how your character acts, you can get a pretty good idea of what type of clothes they’d wear~!

For example, my monster girly Amour and Peacock!

For peacock, I knew I wanted a bubbly cropped street look to match her personality. And adding rips and tears to give that quintessential zombie look added to how explosive her style and optimism can be.

Then we have Amour. She’s….. something alright! As a fallen cherub, I thought it would be cute if she wore a blazer to match the pure nature of where she’s from. But…. She is anything but pure. Despite this, I still gave her a cutesy pastel love core-esqe look, so it can be a bit of a subversion of expectations for her character. The type of person who looks like they wouldn’t hurt a fly, yet then proceeds to smash said fly into the ground with her weapon and keep beating it with a smile on her face even though the fly is far gone past tense- Ooop, got a little distracted there.

Tip Number 2:

What if you’re just character designing on the fly, and don’t have a concrete idea for this character yet? You know what helps? Drumroll please *drumroll*

PINTEREST~!

Now you gotta be careful with Pinterest since it’s notoriously known for taking people’s art and not crediting them. So if you’re using another’s artwork as REFERENCE (we’ll get back to this later) for an outfit, make sure to at least find them and give ‘em a follow. You can even put the artist’s name in the pin’s comment section.

Now back to the Referencing thing. When taking ANY pins from Pinterest, be sure you’re not straight up copying or tracing it, that’s not cool! What you want to do is find specific things that you’d like on your character, and very loosely reference it which means you’re gonna have to use that noggin and be creative~! I believe in you. Using color palettes online can also help spark inspiration

When you get your references, I usually put them in one place, using Milanote, which is an app on the AppStore. (If you can’t use that, just put the references on another canvas in your art program of choice). Here’s an example of one I made for my character Cyan:

Chippu Bango 3:

Trial and error. Look, you’re not always gonna get the winning design first try. Even to this day, there will be characters I made in middle school that I’ve redesigned 5 or more times to get it right. I mean… look at Peacock’s first designs:

Just don’t be too hard on yourself, character design is fun, but if it gets too frustrating, walk away for a bit and come back with fresh new eyes. You’re not gonna satisfy everyone with your design, but if you can satisfy yourself, that’s what counts~!

——————————————————-

That’s all I can say for now, let me know what you think of my techniques!

Byyyyieeeeee~! ( ꈍ ω ꈍ)ﾉ~ *:・ﾟ

#art #black artist #alli’s convos #alli’s ocs #art advice

47 notes · View notes

yarnprism · 6 months

Note

I have been struggling on how to word this, because this is the first time I’m doing a tickle request, but for Gabriel from Ultrakill, all I can imagine is after Gabriel kills the Council, he runs into V1 again, but doesn’t want to fight cause existential crisis. So V1 starts touching and inspecting Gabriel cause he’s curious, and finds out Gabriel is ticklish. I’m not sure how Gabriel would react to that, I’ll leave that up for you to decide :)

Okay I’m not good at writing fics because I deadass haven’t written like this since 2017 so I’m rusty.

But this prompt seemed cute so uh.

THE LAUGHTER OF AN ANGEL

Warnings : ULTRAKILL spoilers kinda. Fluffy tickles (never would’ve guessed)

Word Count : 1.3k (A short one I know)

Also shoutout to my friend @giggleeclown beta read this and gave me grammar corrections and such!! Please go show her blog some love I beg

Pure unadulterated emptiness. That was a fair description for describing how the fallen Archangel felt as he sat by the fire under a sky full of stars. The blood of the people he once both ordered and followed stained his hands: the council. He mourned not for the loss of the Father and the council, but for the part of himself that died with them. Gabriel stared into the flames, taking in the warm colors of the blaze in front of him. The crackling wood brought a sense of peace, like heavy rain in the middle of the night. He looked down at his hands, clenching his fingers into fists before relaxing them. The armor he wore seemed dull, almost tarnished, through his eyes, not wielding the splendor it was once made for. Gabriel sighed, looking back down at the fire. He thought back to the atrocities he committed under the name of the Lord. The thousands- no, millions he had condemned to suffer eternally. To drown, to burn, to be mauled until nothing remained. To experience death for the last time, in the worst ways possible regardless of how big or small the sin. “All in the name of the Lord.” He used to say, but the name of the Lord had long since wilted, only giving disintegrating petals of dimming light. At that moment, Gabriel felt sorry. Sorry for himself, the souls he condemned, sorry for the dying will of the father. He knew feeling sorry couldn’t change the present, but it was all he could muster.

A sudden whirring sound tore him from his thoughts. His eyes shifted and met with the glowing eye of the machine. He wanted to be angry, furious at seeing the thing that beat him twice in his own game. Now, however, he didn't have the energy for it. Gabriel felt more numb than anything, staring silently at V1. It stared back, the crackling of the fire being the only thing to fill the empty air. “Come to mock me, have you?” Gabriel started, staring the machine down. V1 didn't respond, only tilting its head in curiosity and beginning to approach the archangel. Gabriel looked down at the fire once more, expecting the machine to try and kill him. He’d be dead soon regardless, so what did it matter? Instead, V1 just stood by him, eventually sitting beside the angel, still staring with its mono eye. The silence was awkward, the gentle hum of the machine’s inner workings filling his ears. He grumbled as he could hear the cold metal hand of the machine grazing over his blood-stained armor. Logically, he knew it was just the machine trying to soak up the blood that had splattered onto him.

Admittedly, it disgusted him to think that something could be that focused on survival. Only focused on how much blood it can get. Strangely, he understood, V1 just wanted to survive like anyone else. That was its main objective, after all, its purpose. Gabriel couldn’t help but think back to that word: purpose. What was his purpose? Now that the council was dead, and he had practically gone against everything he was made to be, what now? For the first time since he was birthed from the heavenly light, he felt unsure of himself. “I envy you, machine.” He started. “You seem to have everything cut out for you.” The android looked up and tilted its head at Gabriel, stopping its momentary prodding of the angel's body. Gabriel sighed, staring back aimlessly before he turned back to the fire. He let the outer sights of his vision fade away as the fire caught his attention. The way the fire licked the wood it was given for fuel was encapsulating, he admired the wood as it crumbled and crunched down into— “eEEk?!” A squeak suddenly ripped from his mouth as he wasn’t paying attention. Gabriel felt his cheeks burn beneath his helmet as he realized just how undignified it was. He slammed his hand over his mouth, eyes darting down to the culprit at his side. It was V1’s dull claw that had curiously scraped against his exposed skin. The machine tilted its head at Gabriel, wondering why he had made such a sound. Before the angel could protest or move away, V1 inquisitively scratched at Gabriel's side, earning a yelp from him. “H-hehey!! Quit it!” He objected, quickly drowned out by his own incessant giggling as the V1 started to scratch at his exposed sides and tummy. An odd sensation filled him that he couldn’t describe, one that just made him want to laugh and laugh even though nothing at the moment sparked his humor. In fact this was anything but funny. It was humiliating. He shouldn’t be here, lying on his back laughing because of the machine's dull claws.

Yet, still he could do nothing but squeak and giggle like he were some mortal. He silently cursed the blacksmith who made his armor cropped, and he himself for accepting it. “Stahap thihis insoleNCEE!!” His voice suddenly went up an octave as V1 curiously squeezed a part of his midsection. It made an almost happy sounding whir at Gabriel’s reaction, taking it as a sign it was doing this properly. V1 had seen humans do lots of things, they were very social creatures after all. Though it remembered one specific gesture certain humans would do with each other as a form of playing, it never got a name for the action however. Though the way Gabriel laughed and squirmed, it figured it was doing something right, even if it didn’t originally mean to. V1 curiously kneaded its claws into the soft flesh of the other, earning a squeal. The Angel let out a loud, shrieky cackle as the tips of the machine’s claws provided just the right amount of torturous pressure. “N-NOHOHO!! THIHIS IHIS ABSURD!!” He shrieked as V1s ‘nail’ pressed and wriggled where his navel would’ve been, had he been human that is. As he writhed, he couldn’t help but feel a wobbly, almost dare he say giddy smile cross his originally hardened face. For some reason he found himself..enjoying this? The way the laughter poured from him in a shrieky unstable stream, the way his face felt like it was on fire, everything about this felt so…nice. Though a part of him felt admittedly ashamed, he shouldn’t enjoy something like this, only mortal children like this. And he was far from any child.

V1 curiously continued to prod and poke, seeming pleased at Gabriel’s shrill laughter. As its claws pressed just a little bit harder, it appeared to appreciate the almost screams of laughter he let out at even the slightest scratch. “I s-swehear Machine I’ll tehehear yohou lihimb from liMB—EEK!!” He shrieked once more, his wings fluffing up and twitching. A hoarse laugh poured out of him, a wheeze following suit. Though this was fun, he could feel himself growing tired as his laugh grew wheezy with the occasional shriek here and there. “S-stop-! St-STAhap!!” Gabriel pleaded before grabbing the wrists of the machine, forcibly making it stop its onslaught. V1 stopped, and curiously tilted its head at the now panting angel, making an inquisitive whir. Gabriel huffed and felt his body relax, the tension from before leaving his body. Oddly he felt..calmer, almost happier than before, and he had no idea why. He looked back up at the machine and quickly repositioned himself to sit back up, “I uhm..I’m not certain on what that was but..thank you…” He only got a slightly confused whir in reply, but Gabriel didn’t mind the simplicity.

#sfw tickling #ultratickle #sfw tickle fic #beta read

15 notes · View notes

dino-boyo-agere · 1 year

Text

First of: TW!!

╰→ mention & vivid description of severe injury

╰→ use of uncensored swearwords! (f*ck & s*it)

╰→ but no graphic pictures in this post!

.･｡ﾟ×ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ×ﾟ｡･*.ﾟ.✧.ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ×ﾟ｡･*.ﾟ☆ﾟ×ﾟ｡･.

So on July 14 of 2020 I lost my left middle finger by trying to fetch a ball from my pal's dog he threw over a fence the day before.

Here is the full story:

It was raining and half way over the fence I decided to ditch the idea, since the fence was fairly slippery and I 'didn't want to get hurt' lmao.

So, on my way back down I obviously slipped, my ring got caught on the fence and degloved my left middle finger.

I felt a hard tug, no pain at first, tho I had a feeling what just happened... My first thought was: "Do I look at my hand or do I just go home?" Obviously, I looked down and "fuck." was the first thing I said.

I grabbed the bone and remaining flesh with my unharmed hand, to stop the bleeding and looked at my friend (the one with the dog).

I calmly told him: "[Name], don't panic but my finger is gone, call an ambulance. I will lay down on the ground now, okay?" At first he thought I was fucking with him and didn't believe me. Because I stayed strangely calm since he has severe panic attacks and I didn't want him to get one in this situation, since that would be anything but beneficial for the both of us. He only realized I was for real, when he saw red liquid dripping out my hand.

My friend hastily rung all the doorbells of the Apartment building across the street, to ask someone to call an ambulance. (I didn't have my phone on me he had his phone, but forgot that you can call emergency numbers even without mobile credit.)

At one point a guy rode past us on his bike, my friend tried to flag him down, yelling something along the lines of: "Hey, could you please call an ambulance? He (gesturing at me, lying on the ground, bleeding) lost- had an accident." And I'll never forget this mans answer, after throwing one glance at me, in a cheery sing-sang voice he just said: "Noo, I don't have time, sorryy.~" while riding of with the brightest smile. That is still the funniest thing to me lmao. That guy had a great day and was not willing to care for anything or anyone else. Honestly.. Good for him!

Anyways, back to the ambulance-calling problem..

My friend managed to get an old lady to step out on the balcony, where she could see me and she called an ambulance right away.. Well she actually got a little confused and called the police, but they informed the hospital to send an ambulance.

Another lady also approached me to just be there for me, I think. She just rubbed my back and tried to comfort me, which was really sweet. Especially seeing she was the one crying, overwhelmed by the situation. She also shielded me from the rain by covering me with her umbrella. I hope shes okay, she was an absolut Sweetheart.

I was lucky (I guess?) since a woman, who lived across the street I was laying on, saw me through the window and came to check out what happened. And wouldn't you know, she was a nurse! She introduced herself to me as such, stating: "Hey, I saw you through my window, are you okay? I might be able to help. I'm a nurse and brought my first aid kit, what happened?" So I detailed the incident to her and showed her my injury. Upon seeing my mangled hand she let out an audible gasp and a whispered: "oh, fuck." At which I couldn't help but laugh, saying: " 'oh, fuck'? As a nurse? It's that bad, huh?". She apologized and tried to back paddle a bit, I think she was trying to not freak me out to much, saying something along the lines of: "No, it's just- I just didn't expect that." To which I replied: "Well, to be fair, I basically had the same reaction, so it's alright." The kind nurse bandaged me up and waited for the ambulance with us.

At that point the pain was pretty bad but not to much to handle. I mainly focused on my friend, constantly telling him to: "Stay calm and breathe!" since "I can't bleed out, so it's alright."

The ambulance (and police) arrived about 15 minutes after the call (they normally would've been there faster but we had a lot of road work in the area at the time). The officers tried to figure out what happened and kept asking weird questions like: "Did your friend pull you down?", "Did the dog eat the finger?" and "Did the dog pull you down?" Etc.. They also 'searched?' for my finger (they basically just looked in and around the bush where it happened from a distance for like thirty seconds lmao) and said they couldn't find it, so no finger saving for me. The EMT's knocked me out with some seriously good shit and drove me to the hospital. At that point the shock settled, I went in and out of consciousness. At the ER they gave me local anesthesia by shoving a needle in my mangled finger and shooting some thick liquid in there... THAT was the most pain I ever felt in my life so far. But right away, just milliseconds after, no pain at all.

In this moment I actually got to look at it in depth for the first time. It looked gnarly. Most of my skin and flesh was gone but the two bigger bones (wich where astonishingly bright white) of the finger, as well as the main tendon, where still intact. I could actually move my fucking bone-finger!! So I did just that, opening and closing my hand in awe, observing how exactly 'the strings work'. It was fascinating!

They also took some pictures and I managed to message the clinic for the photos of the degloved finger because... YES. You can find the link to those photos at the end of this post. ! Be warned tho, it's literally med. gore !

They gave me another local anesthetic, for the operation, this time numbing the whole arm. They couldn't put me under since I've already eaten that day.

Even though my finger couldn't be 'saved' since they 'couldn't find it'. I found the ring three days after the incident tho so that's cool, I guess.

I asked if I was allowed to 'keep' the bones they removed but the doctor said: "That's not allowed, since it's a bio hazard." (stupid German laws).

They send me home the next day and I got a cute little tattoo after everything healed up nice. (A little pair of scissors on a dashed line, because I'm funny like that.)

When I got home I picked up my dog from my friends apartment (yes, the same friend) and the first thing I said to him was "pew pew" while doing the Spider-Man 'web shooting gesture' with my hand.

I don't really have many long lasting difficulties in regards to the missing finger except for occasional phantom pain or the even worse phantom itch. Both of which mainly occur when the weather switches.

I'm a pretty positive person, so I'm just thankful that it was only one finger and a unessential one, on my non-dominant hand at that.

All in all I'd give the situation a solid 7 /10.

Pos. (+)

The hospital food was good.

The staff was nice.

Neg. (-)

I'm still a little salty about not being able to take my own bones home.

I physically cringe every time I think about the incident. (Wich is annoying because I basically live next to the place it happened and have to see that darn fence daily.)

Indiff. (¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

The pain was bad, but manageable.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask!

And as promised → here ← are the (uncensored) pictures of my injury, if you're interested!

✧✧.✧✧ Sorry for any spelling / grammar errors ✧✧.✧✧

✧✧✧.✧✧✧ English is not my first language ✧✧✧.✧✧✧

.*･｡･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ｡･*.ﾟ.↓DNI↓.ﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ｡･*.ﾟﾟ｡･｡･*.

･｡»･⁠°✧❗I don't consent to NSFW interaction❗✧°･«｡･

banner by @froggy-clubhouse

#tw: injury #tw: amputation #tw: mention of blood #tw: graphic content #amputee #amputation story #amputation #real story #nates_life

39 notes · View notes

aces-sweetheart · 2 years

Note

Can I have some fluff with Flirty!Ace pls?

Thanks :3

♥ pairing: ace x gn!reader (they/them pronouns)

♡ description: FLUFF

♥ warnings/info: flirty ace, reader is a wbp, izo is there because i love him bye.

♥ ♡ ♥

Ironically, your division captain wasn’t the first Whitebeard Pirate to greet you. Ace, a man with sunkissed skin, freckles and a charming smile that had you flustered, introduced himself as soon as you stepped onto the Moby Dick.

You didn’t notice him at first, too busy focusing on not dropping all of your belongings that had to be moved onto the ship. Not only was it a lot but you had no clue where to bring it. Luckily he was there. He seemed to appear out of thin air to catch the bag that was falling off your shoulder, placing it on his own. He didn’t have to introduce himself, of course you knew who he was; who didn’t know Fire Fist Ace?

“I’m Ace, nice to meet you.” He shifted the bag higher up on his shoulder. This left one of your hands free and allowed him to gently grasp it in a handshake. His politeness caught you off guard; you never would’ve guessed a pirate, let alone him, had such good manners. You smiled at him and told him your name.

“So where are we putting these?” His kindness was shocking too. Pirates weren’t inherently mean but many didn’t go out of their way to help others. Sure you were now on the same crew but pirates were also notorious for being colder to rookies. You barely even knew this man and he was already willing to help you. You opened your mouth to answer then shut it, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment at the realization that you didn’t know.

“Uh…” You trailed off. He just grinned at you.

“Not sure?” You nodded sheepishly and mumbled an apology.

“No worries, we’ll figure it out. What division are you in?” You told him and he pouted cutely.

“You’re in Izo’s, not mine. I would’ve loved to have you with me.” His smirk hinted at something more than friendliness but you didn’t want to assume anything. Maybe he was just really nice. You two talked the entire way to your room where he finally placed your stuff down. He offered to help you unpack but you declined, already feeling like you burdened him enough despite the fact that he assured you you hadn’t.

“Well I’ll see you around.” His hand grazed your shoulder as he left you alone, hoping you weren’t imagining things.

—

Ace seemed to pop up everywhere you were; whether it be the dining hall when you were on dish duty or the supply room where you had to fetch something or like now, the deck where you were told to mop. They seemed like menial tasks but you knew you had to work your way up. Luckily you knew better than to let him distract you, talking to him as you did your task. But he made it so hard to focus when he was constantly showering you with compliments, sliding in little remarks that had you trying to hide a bashful smile.You nearly slipped on the wet floor when you heard your commander’s voice from behind you.

“If you could stop flirting with my division member that’d be great.” Izo looked unimpressed, his arms folded and a slight frown on his face. Without an ounce of shame, Ace laughed but kept his eyes on you.

“I can’t help it, they’re just so beautiful.” The longer you were part of the crew, the more bold his flirting had become. The older man rolled his eyes, sick of his crewmate constantly hovering around you.

“Appreciate their beauty when they’re not in the middle of a task.” He spoke with an air of finality that left no room for argument. Even the ever stubborn Ace didn’t bother to fight back. Rather than his usual goodbye, he kissed your cheek.

“I’ll see you later.” You watched his retreating figure, hand covering your burning cheek where his lips had been.

#ace x reader #ace fluff #portgas d. ace x reader #portgas d. ace fluff #one piece x reader #one piece fluff #as.writes #as.op #as.fluff

236 notes · View notes

plushie-sentai · 8 days

Text

Tagged by @stickers-on-a-laptop ! Tysm!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Five! Not a lot atm but I used to write a lot on wattpad as well 😅

2. What is your AO3 word count?

11,227 words :P

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Tokusatsu! Namely Kamen Rider Build and King Ohger atm, but I also have a planned Ex-Aid fic (and some old my little pony fics I may move over from wattpad lmao)

4. What are your top five fics by Kudos?

Since I only have five, my top three are

Getting to Know the Boogeyman

Of Courtship & Coccinelles and

Red Looks Good on You

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Definitely Sento’s Wandering Mind, the whole thing is a vent piece and I heavily relate to Sento so it’s more of personal processing than anything lmao

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Of Courtship & Coccinelles! I write most stuff with fluffy endings but that one definitively ends on a bright note

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Nope!

9. Do you write smut? If so, which kind?

I’ve written two smut pieces so far, which is a huge step for me personally for many reasons, but they’re both best match fics :3 one angst, one fun and sexy. Honestly I draw more of it than I write it lol

10. Do you write crossovers? I hate the craziest crossover you’ve ever written?

I’m not much for writing crossovers BUT the exaid fic I’ve had in the works for a while technically is one bc it’s hatsune Miku as a bugster lol

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Also no but would be neat :)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not on AO3 but I love bouncing ideas off of people and also working on characters together, esp mine and @chilipepperconverse ‘s KR OCs :3 actually I used to co-write with friends all the time in middle school when we wrote together.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Bonkers ass question but rn my answer would probably be Bravesnipe?? But I feel like there’s definitely ones I’m crazier abt out there. Maybe sonotaro…

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Unfortunately probably the Miku exaid fic ;-; the concept is fun and cute but with some stuff I get an outline or somethin cookin and then it never sees the light of day again

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I’m pretty good at detailed descriptions and visuals. I’m much more an artist than a writer, so I’ve spoken before about how I view my stories like written descriptions of story boards, and I absolutely love to try and paint a picture with my words.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

In my actual writing I’m unsure and would love to hear any feedback, but for me it’s actually just GETTINg myself to write. It takes a lot of mental energy to start the task and I can never really make myself do it, it’s only when I’m in a rare and intense mood for writing somethin that I’ve got a REALLY solid idea on. That’s mostly why I’ve got so few fics. I have more ideas, but it’s difficult to get myself to a point with any of them where I’ll actually write any of it out lol

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Personally I think it’s neat when other people do it, but unless it’s French I probably never will. Even then I’d be so nervous about getting it wrong I’d probably find some kinda work around

19. First fandom you wrote for?

On AO3 it’s King Ohger, but in reality…. Oh boy. Warriors fanfic abt my sonas when I was like 10? Outside of OCs my first canon-aligned fanfic was probably one of the my little pony ones on wattpad. I did mostly original character stuff when I wrote frequently as a tween so I guess I didn’t start with fanfic until like a year or two ago.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I only have a few so I’m proud of them all for different reasons, but I think Sento’s Wandering Mind is one that I’m particularly fond of even tho it didn’t do as well as the others. It’s conceptually something I’ve been trying to put into words for a long time, and it was my first foray into writing anything REMOTELY sexual, which was a huge jump for me that I’m very proud of as a person who previously struggled a lot more with “catholic shame” if I had to put a word to it. It’s kinda a heavy read and isn’t perfect, but the fact that it’s out in the world is important to me and I’m happy with it. Hope you all enjoy!!

Tagging @chilipepperconverse and @cantarella-rose and anyone else who’d like to participate! :3

#tiny warbles #archive of our own #update btw: I did decide to add those mlp fics to my ao3 as well so now I have two more!

4 notes · View notes

alivehouse · 4 months

Note

(While sending this ask I've accidentally found out what cool wallpapers (literally) you have on your desktop blog theme.)

Well, good day, my dearest horror podcast Virgil,

I, surprisingly to myself, actually finished "I am in Eskew" and enjoyed it quite a bit (which, I guess, could have been deduced by how much I spammed in the tag) even more surprisingly, considering I'm absolutely not a horror person - I substitute horror movies with their wikipedia retellings. Unironically.

Anyway, firstly, thank you! I definitely would have never discovered it without your recommendations!

Secondly, maybe you have something else like that stashed up your sleeve? I definitely need some time to recuperate, but I would like to explore more cool podcasts. (The only two limitations: short-ish - not much longer than this one, the view of a hundred+ episodes scares me; not gorier than this one/no actual jump scares - again, I'm a scardicat.) I remember you talking about "Mabel Podcast" and at the first glance it seems neat, but I'd like to hear your comments on it first.

Thanks in advance. :)

(thank you! its a william morris thing i edited a little lol) glad you liked eskew! its been fun seeing your thoughts on it popping up in the tag, not spammy at all.

i do want to mention that the creator of eskew also has another podcast called The Silt Verses, personally i havent listened to it for weird brain reasons so not sure how well it fits your criteria but ive heard its also very good

mabel podcast is another favorite! the creators of mabel and the creator of i am in eskew were both inspired by shirley jackson's the haunting of hill house to an extent iirc, so even though the stories are very different some elements of them have a similar 'feel' to them imo. i will say that mabel is very different stylistically though (especially the earlier episodes) which in my experience people seem to either love or hate. whereas in eskew you get a pretty continuous narration from david or riyo, in mabel youre mostly listening in on a series of somewhat disjointed voicemail messages. id definitely recommend at least giving the first few episodes a go, dont get discouraged if you dont feel like you dont understand whats happening right away. all you really need to know about the story going in is that youre following Anna, whos a live-in carer for an old woman named Sally. Anna is trying to contact Sallys next of kin (the titular Mabel), but shes strangely out of reach.

ok i know you said youre not a huge horror person but if you ever are feeling a little more daring id suggest trying out The White Vault. theres a small amount of gore (descriptions of finding hearts and teeth) and some uh. wet ripping sounds in it but its really not that bad all things considered, just know that it is straight horror though. its a found footage podcast that follows a group of people whove been hired to check out a remote outpost in northern norway thats gone dead, but a storm leaves them stranded there, and as time goes on it becomes clear that they arent exactly alone. this ones a little longer i think, but tbh ive only listened to the first two seasons, it felt like a natural place for the story to end to me

and then on the complete opposite side of the spooky podcast spectrum, if you want something thats a ghost story but really not horror at all imo, i just finished listening to Midnight Radio a few weeks back. this ones *really* short, like 10 episodes that are ~20 minutes each short, so its definitely lower commitment. in this one youre listening in on a radio show hosted by Sibyl, who died decades earlier but can still be heard waxing poetic about her hometown in the dead of night.

ok LAST ONE havent finished it so wasnt sure if i should rec it but a lot of people on my dash hype up Archive 81 so i thought id mention it at least. guy is hired to listen through a bunch of creepy tapes in some archive out in the middle of no where. classic horror podcast stuff. similar to eskew in that it pivots from mostly being mostly anthology into an overarching plot as you go on

#sorry i did not mean to write a whole essay lol..... but hopefully one of those sounds interesting!

4 notes · View notes

katyahina · 1 year

Text

Ashen Blood theory issue

The take in the fandom I often see is that Healing Church spread Ashen Blood to motivate people to use blood ministration more, but it doesn’t factor one important detail…

Very easily, Gilbert is a victim of Ashen Blood too, and he straight up admits the blood ministration didn’t heal him!

I feel like it'd be rather strange of people to worship the blood ministration as sacred cure from all illnesses if they were... well, not cured at all... Something doesn't line up for me.

Also, description of the Antidote:

(I take excerpts from lost in translation doc just in case ( x ))

I think it is very evident that Ashen Blood is whatever affliction resulted in the kind of beast known as ‘beast patient’ - beasts found in Loran and Old Yharnam, and the type of the beast Gilbert turn into when bloodmoon appears! Needless to mention that beast patient type of beast is the one that causes you Slow Poison effect. Also, Blood-Starved Beast - a beast SO poisonous that you get Slow Poison by just being NEAR it is found in Old Yharnam, Hintertomb (the most poisonous chalice dungeon) and Loran!

Ashen Blood is very easily a poison, and connected to why beast PATIENTS (a very telling name already) can cause poison damage. Since Gilbert is an outsider easily it might be like… idk, flushed down the rivers and he one day had one unfortunate fishing, or delivered by people who moved from Yharnam, or something. Countless possibilities.

There are different kinds of beasts, but ones in Old Yharnam seem peculiar, AND they are found in Loran too, and I think the hint is RIGHT in the Old Yharnam. There is a figure of a crucified Blood Starved Beast (the most poisonous girl in the lore, mind you) in Old Yharnam - with broken altar beneath it, with the ritual blood in the bowl found on it, as you might remember:

Honestly uh…

(Alfred’s dialogue)

(The room where statue in Grand Cathedral is, also where secret lift to Research Hall + Clocktower is)

(Excerpt from Living Failures theme ( x ))

It feels more like whatever happened in Old Yharnam was a honest mistake! Like… The progression my friend @val-of-the-north suggested is: “I think they first found a middle-ground version in Pthumeru, then the Orphan of Kos, then they started finding new sources in other dungeons, like Loran. They were doing super hot, Ashen Blood spreads, the Healing Blood can’t cure it, it actually makes it worse, every higher up panics, they try to kill beasthood as a concept, they fail and create the Blood Moon, to save face they blame it on “those pesky foreigners” for tainting the blood.”

I think that makes hella sense! (also screw you Val, your GOOD ideas get to see the light!!!!) Basically, what I am seeing is that the entrance room of Grand Cathedral only had so many beds, and in Old Yharnam the whole crusification + giving everyone a sip of blood (not even transfusion I feel) was a way to speedrun it… which ended miserably, because Blood Starved Beast type is poisoned.

Not that it mattered much, as seems like ANY way of blood transfusion leads to a very likely failure (aka falling for beasthood), but Ashen Blood just was an especially bad case. Plague causing only disadvantages - no healing, no superhuman power, no shit, just pain and a lung disease I guess. If you watched Madoka it is like becoming a type of a magical girl with particularly weak spells and shortened effect of curing her soul gem as a “bonus”! So they just decided to cover their traces and burn Old Yharnam and passing it as type of plague that no cure could fix and no ‘fear’ could hold back because of ‘them pesky foreigners!!!!!!!!!!’ (debatable but possible).

So to conclude - honestly, Ashen Blood seems to be, more likely, an honest mistake of using a WRONG source of the “miraculous” blood than a planned action from what we’ve been given. Supposedly the Bloodletting Beast (or perhaps Orphan of Kos?) were better ones... arguably, all leads to the same fate sooner or later.

#bloodborne #ashen blood #bloodborne theory #not art #text post

36 notes · View notes

chaos-thirium · 2 years

Note

Hi! I just saw your response to my previous ask, I’m glad I can still send prompts 😊

What about

43: “i told you to stay still"

85: “i’m going to fuck you so hard you’re going to forget that guy’s name”

with Dominant!Connor who feels jealous of your interactions with Gavin? 😇

Thank you for giving me such a fun one to end on! I hope you enjoy it.

This gif has been haunting me. Just imagine him giving Gavin that look when jealousy hits 👀

Connor x AFAB reader. Rated M.

The DPD officers were by far your favourite customers. Not only did they not cause trouble, they kept trouble from arising from other patrons, and they were fun. Running a bar was hard work, but good customers made it worthwhile. You liked your regulars the best. When they came in, a shift felt more like a party. Sometimes you even let them stay after-hours, and you would hang out with the group on the fun side of the bar.

Tonight was one such night. You locked the doors and flipped the sign, but the night was far from over. Hank Anderson was at the bar, as always, nursing a large scotch. You’d noticed a decrease in his alcohol intake, and you were glad, even if it was a loss of money for you. His habits were much healthier now. Rather than leaning on the bar and wallowing, he was sitting sideways on his stool, watching the pool tournament that was going on.

Everyone else was clustered around the pool table, where Connor had just won the last eleven games against a variety of opponents. You couldn’t even blame android precision giving him an unfair advantage, as two of the people he’d beaten had also been androids. The longer the evening wore on, the more the competitive types made themselves known. Currently he was facing off against Ray Wilson, an officer you knew he usually got on really well with, but that friendship seemed in danger of straining with every shot that Connor made.

Clustered around Ray, Tina Chen, Chris Miller, Gavin Reed and Ben Collins were shouting tips and encouragement. To your ears, it sounded contradictory and unhelpful, and you suspected Ray agreed, judging by his disgruntled expression. You clasped his shoulder in consolation when he lost, and shot Connor a smile.

“You’re just too good, Connor.”

He lifted his eyebrows a fraction, but said nothing. Casual flirting was practically part of your job description. You flirted with pretty much all of them, (skipping over the ones that were uncomfortable, of course), but there was always an underlying something with Connor. You weren’t sure what it was exactly. Tension, maybe. Something more than playfulness. You weren’t yet sure what it meant or if it would lead anywhere, but it certainly made these nights interesting.

“Whose side are you on?” Ray accused you, although he was smiling. Not even a loss could keep his cheeriness down. That was one of the best things about him. You guessed the friendship wasn’t in danger after all.

“Mine,” you grinned back. “As host and owner of this establishment, I need to remain neutral.”

“Convenient,” Hank called over.

You gave him the middle finger, and he laughed.

“I think you should try,” Gavin spoke up, his words followed by a chorus of cheers.

“That so?”

“Yeah.” He took the pool cue from Ray and stepped closer, offering it to you. He was in your personal space, but you allowed it. He was one of the only ones who you sensed had a genuine interest in you. If you suggested it, he’d go there, but since you hadn’t, he kept a mostly-respectful distance. Lines got blurred now and then, but nothing beyond what you permitted within your personal boundaries. You liked flirting, enjoyed the harmless little touches that came with it, and you were good at reading people. You always knew how far you could go before messages got mixed.

You took the cue from him, turning to eye Connor. He was watching you intently, but reacted to your challenging gaze with one of his own.

“You’re good at pool, right?” Gavin said. “Kick his plastic ass.”

You were good at pool, but you doubted you could beat Connor. There was no harm in trying, though.

“You’re going down,” you said, mostly for show, and the officers cheered.

Connor wore the faintest trace of a smirk, and proceeded to chalk his cue in the sassiest way you’d ever seen. Never had you imagined that using a chalk cube could be sassy. Thank the gods for new experiences.

Ray set up a new game, and Connor tossed the chalk towards you. You caught it awkwardly, trying not to drop it with your clumsy human hands.

After having lost to Connor themselves, the android officers Sophie and Zoo had decided to join him in support, and they stood behind him offering their own encouragement. Somehow the game had turned into androids versus humans, but you were glad that it was friendly. You didn’t tolerate bigotry in your bar.

“You got this,” Zoo said, his tone dry. “Just like all the others.”

Zoo had been named by his neighbour’s four-year-old son, who had mistaken the 200 in his model number for the word ‘zoo’. It had stuck, and it was one of your favourite android name stories that you’d heard. You smiled every time you saw him.

“Take him down, babe,” Gavin put in.

Gavin had calmed down a lot on his anti-android sentiments, but you knew he and Connor still didn’t get on all that well. It was just that these days it was less about race and more a personality clash.

Connor’s eyes narrowed. Did he actually see you as a challenge? That was flattering!

“Do you want to break, or shall I?” you asked.

“Host’s privilege,” he said, holding a hand out in invitation.

That worked for you, since you were already on the right side of the table. You lined up your shot, trying to ignore how many eyes were on you, particularly Connor’s. You’d watched him play everyone else, and you were certain he’d try and psych you out if he could. You sent the cue ball on its way, and the other balls scattered with a satisfying smack.

“Not bad,” Connor said.

“You need to stop with all this high praise,” you shot back sarcastically, earning a tiny smile.

Gavin lingered nearby as the game began properly, offering support. Frankly, you thought he just wanted a good view of you bent over the table to take your shots, for which you couldn’t blame him. You’d admired others doing the same before. Speaking of…

You stood back to let Connor take his next shot, your eyes tracing the lean lines of his body as he snapped his cue forward, sending a red striped ball into the corner pocket.

“Fuck!” Gavin exclaimed as Sophie and Zoo clapped.

Connor smiled, taking his next, and then stood back to let you do yours. You leaned down, mindful of his presence behind you. No doubt he was judging the way you were calculating your angles.

“Damn,” you heard Gavin say. “The temptation to smack your ass right now…”

You blinked, shocked. He’d never gone as far as that before!

“Do you mind?” you brushed off. “I’m trying to win a game here.”

“Sorry, babe.”

“What the fuck, Gav?” Tina said, giggling.

“Just being honest.”

You tried to concentrate on your shot, and gratefully pocketed a solid colour ball, narrowly missing hitting one of Connor’s striped ones on the way. You moved around the table to take your extra shot, seeing Gavin looking smug with folded arms. Connor was looking at the table, but his LED was yellow. Was he actually worried that you might beat him? Surely not.

There wasn’t much you could do, so you sent the cue ball into a position that would make things difficult for Connor, and stepped back. Gavin sidled up to you as you were watching Connor figure out his next move.

“Why have we never hooked up?” he asked you. His voice was quiet, but you were certain the androids heard him, as Connor’s LED spun, and the other two shot glances in your direction.

“Down boy,” you said. “Remember, I can still kick you out.”

“You would never,” he grinned. “You like me.”

You pulled a face. “I’m starting to forget why that is.”

He laughed good-naturedly, downing the last of his beer. Truth was, you did like him, but it wasn’t in that way, and you were never going to hook up with him. You suspected he knew as much, he was just trying his luck.

“I can’t help it if your ass looks fantastic in those jeans,” he said. “And when you bend over, it’s just…” He made a grabby motion in thin air, which you couldn’t help laughing at.

A ripple of surprised reactions pulled your attention back to the table, where Connor had just made an uncharacteristically bad shot and pocketed the cue ball, giving you an extra shot.

Your brow furrowed, and you looked at Gavin, a whisper of suspicion starting to creep in. Was he being more outrageously flirty with you as a means of distracting Connor? And moreover, was it working?

Gavin met your gaze and winked, (clumsily, with both eyes), and you pursed your lips, shaking your head slightly as you smirked. He raised one eyebrow in a silent question, and you offered a tiny nod. You were on board. Anything to break Connor’s ludicrous winning streak.

The game continued, as did Gavin’s remarks, and Connor seemed to get more and more irritated with him. You weren’t sure if it was just his dislike for the human man, or if it had something to do with that unspoken something between you, but whatever it was, it was levelling the playing field. You were playing the closest game of the evening, and the atmosphere from your audience was getting more and more hyped. You still didn’t think you were going to win, but you were making Connor work for it, and that was enough for you.

It came down to you and him both chasing the 8 ball around the table, all the coloured balls having been pocketed. It was a short battle that Connor won, but it was still satisfying, and the humans were thrilled by how close it had been.

You high-fived Gavin, and he briefly pulled you close.

“For the record,” he said near your ear, “your ass does look great in those jeans, and I’m on board if you really do wanna hook up, but I have a feeling you don’t.”

“I don’t,” you said, but warmly with a smile, “but thanks for the compliment.”

He didn’t seem overly upset by your rejection. “Any time.”

You nodded to him, and headed back to the bar. “Okay, folks!” you yelled. “Finish up and go home, I’ve got a bar to clean!”

There was a cacophony of noise and movement as they did as you asked, setting their empty glasses on the bar and grabbing their coats. You went to the door to let them out, bidding them good night as you did so, accepting compliments on your pool performance. Connor left without a word, his LED yellow as he looked at you. You didn’t think he was annoyed at you, so you assumed there was something important on his mind, and you didn’t hold it against him.

“Next time,” Ray said with a laugh, and you smiled.

“Yeah,” added Chris. “You’ve gotta beat him next time.”

“I’ll get some practice in,” you assured them.

When the last person had left, you locked the door and started cleaning up, winding down from the evening’s excitement. You stacked the dishwasher, wiped down the bar and tables, decided the floor could wait until tomorrow, and set the pool cues back in the umbrella stand they lived in. You were almost ready to leave yourself when a knock at the door startled you.

You approached with caution – it was late, after all – but relaxed when you recognised the silhouette and LED through the frosted glass.

“Hey, Connor,” you said, opening the door. “Did you forget something?”

“Yes,” he said, moving past you.

You shut the door behind him, following him. “I didn’t find anything. What did you leave?”

He didn’t answer you, stopping next to the pool table. You wondered if he was replaying bits of his memory from the evening.

“You shouldn’t let him speak to you like that,” he said eventually.

It took a few seconds for your brain to catch up. “Gavin?” you said, bewildered by the randomness of the topic. “He doesn’t mean anything by it.”

“It was inappropriate.”

“It’s just banter, Connor,” you said with a sigh. “It’s part of my job, people expect it.”

“You didn’t see the way he was looking at you when you…” He cut himself off, LED flashing red.

“He can look all he wants, I don’t care. And if he touches, he gets whacked with a pool cue, simple as.”

“Good,” he said. “None of them should touch you.”

You looked at him in mild surprise as he spoke, and at his next words, your mouth slackened in shock.

“None of them except me.”

You simply stared at him, trying to process that he’d actually said that out loud. He approached you slowly, and every footstep towards you sent your pulse racing faster.

“Just say it,” he went on, voice deceptively soft. “Tell me I can touch you, and I’ll make you feel better than any of them ever could.”

Suddenly you knew what that unspoken something was between you. It was tension. A fuckton of unresolved sexual tension.

You released a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. Connor was a sweet and charming guy, a nice guy who genuinely was nice, but he was also a ruthless badass who didn’t stop until he’d achieved his goals. You, lucky soul that you were, were witnessing an amalgamation of both sides of him, and it was fucking hot.

“Yes,” you said.

You didn’t have the wits or patience to add anything more. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to need anything other than that. The moment the word left your lips, Connor had captured them, his hands lightly gripping your jaw as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

You whimpered, trying to kiss back while you struggled to comprehend how fast everything was moving. Not that you objected, exactly, but you needed to process that this whatever-it-was with Connor actually was a thing. It was going somewhere. Alarmingly fast, actually. You couldn’t bring yourself to care, though, not when he felt this good.

You ran your hands across his chest, feeling the smooth cotton of his shirt, the firmness of his body beneath it. His tongue toyed with yours, inhuman in the most intriguing way, and he held your head still as he explored your mouth. You weren’t used to being kept in place like that, and you doubted you’d let just anyone do it. Connor, however…you didn’t realise just how much you trusted him until that moment. A hot spark of desire left your knees weak, and you were glad he was there for support.

He walked you backward until your ass bumped the pool table, and he crowded you against it, breaking the kiss to ask you a crucial question.

“How far are you willing to go tonight?”

You appreciated that he asked, despite the irrational little voice at the back of your head that was annoyed with him for even suggesting walking away after working you up so quickly.

“All the way,” you answered breathlessly.

His lips ticked up in a pleased smirk. “Good.”

He kissed you once, hard, then broke away and spun you around, his hands at your hips. You gasped in surprise, your own hands coming out to rest on the felt of the pool table. Connor’s voice was a low purr by your ear, somehow tantalising and comforting all at once.

“If you say stop, I will.”

You nodded your understanding, but you had no intention of stopping him. His hands went to your belt, unbuckling it before he undid your jeans with ease. Your breathing hitched as he slowly slid them down your legs, urging you to step out of them. You hastily toed off your shoes and did just that.

He leaned over you, taking your hands and pressing your palms flat to the table, far enough away that you were conveniently bent over, your chest resting against the tabletop. The wooden border dug into your stomach, but it was only a mild inconvenience.

“Stay still,” he instructed.

Oh, so it was like that.

You fought the urge to rub your thighs together at his calm, authoritative tone. That would most likely be seen as the opposite of staying still. Your neck was already starting to ache, so you rested your cheek on the table, your heart pounding. You felt so vulnerable bent over and stretched out, but weirdly you didn’t feel unsafe. You put that down to Connor’s reassuring presence. His hands were surprisingly warm on your skin as he hooked his fingers into your underwear and drew it down, gently gripping your ankle so you could step out. He ran his hand up the inside of your leg as he stood back up, and you tried not to squirm at the light, teasing sensation.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to touch you like this,” he said, his voice soft and conversational as he casually explored your skin.

“I’d imagine about as long as I’ve wanted you to touch me,” you confessed.

You heard him let out a pleased hum, his fingers kneading the curve of your ass. Clearly he’d been watching you earlier, and not analysing how you were lining up your shots as you’d assumed. Gavin had been right on the money to flirt with you to get to him, but the outcome had been far from what he’d intended. That was almost laughable, considering Gavin’s proposition to you and how much he disliked Connor.

You felt Connor plant a kiss on the back of your neck just as he slipped his hand between your legs, long fingers gliding through the slick that had gathered there. You let out a ragged breath, already throbbing at his touch. Dear god, you hadn’t realised just how much you needed him. Or more accurately, you hadn’t let yourself realise.

“Someone’s desperate,” he murmured by your ear, easing two fingers inside you at a painfully slow pace. “Did Gavin get you all worked up like this?”

You flinched, frowning in indignation, and started to turn so you could protest. Before you’d even moved three inches off the pool table, a hand at the back of your neck stopped you.

“I told you to stay still.”

You settled back down without a word, too turned on to even think of something to say. He leaned close again, his breath a warm caress against your ear.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re going to forget that guy’s name.”

Pure need crackled through your body like electricity, and you clenched around his fingers. It was as obvious as if you’d given verbal approval, and he let out a soft chuckle, curling and pressing deeper as he added a third. You couldn’t help squirming a little, but he didn’t scold you for it. You were already ready for something thicker than his fingers.

“Please,” you whispered. It was barely loud enough for you to hear, but of course Connor picked up on it.

“What is it?”

“Please fuck me.”

His hands slipped away from your body, and you heard the promising sound of his belt and zipper being undone. Then he was back, and you felt something warm and hard nudge between your legs. He slid an arm around your waist, drawing your hips back a little, so they weren’t flush against the table’s wooden border, and you smiled to yourself at the show of thoughtfulness. It was very Connor of him.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he said, nuzzling your neck as he guided himself in.

You moaned as he filled you, but couldn’t help the joyful little laugh that spilled out of your mouth.

“Something amusing you?” he asked. He didn’t sound too impressed, so you rushed to enlighten him.

“No, it’s just…I knew you’d feel fucking perfect.”

“Hm.” He sounded placated, but his spare hand returned to the back of your neck once his hips came flush to yours.

You exhaled gustily, your fingers curling against the felt of the tabletop as he began to ease in and out of you. He felt sublime, never a stroke wasted, and your inner walls fluttered around him. From the feel of things, he’d straightened up from leaning over you, but the constant pressure of his hand on your neck kept you down. You weren’t sure what was compelling him to do that, but it was so hot.

He built up to a fast but precise pace, and you could feel the combination of speed and control in his movements. It was unlike anything you’d experienced before, and it took your breath away. All you could do was stay still and take it.

You could hear Connor’s quiet grunts and groans as he moved, and you wondered if he was fulfilling a fantasy that your unexpectedly intense game had provoked. It seemed likely, as he sounded extremely into it, although his arm protecting your hips prevented him from fucking you as hard as he’d threatened to.

He apparently reached the same conclusion, as he suddenly stopped and pulled out of you. You blinked at the rapid change, then found yourself brought upright. He spun you around, gripped your hips and deposited you on the edge of the table. You immediately saw it as an improvement, since you could now fully appreciate the dark, predatory look on his face. He sent a shiver down your spine without uttering a single word. You expected him to push back in, but he surprised you by dropping to his knees.

“What are you…?” you began.

“You did tell me I was going down,” he said with a wry smirk.

You let out a startled laugh. “This wasn’t exactly what I…meant…” you said with a groan as he ran his tongue over your slick flesh.

“Oh, so I should stop?” He was still so close to you, his lips brushed your clit as he spoke, and you shivered again.

“No,” you whispered. “Please don’t stop.”

He licked at you like you were some intriguing treat, then swirled his tongue across your clit. It felt so good, it took you a second to notice that he was writing his name. You grinned, but didn’t call him on it. In fact, you were almost sorry that CyberLife had only given him six letters. He pulled back and bit into the soft skin of your inner thigh. You yelped, wincing at the brief pain before he soothed it with the flat of his tongue. That was going to bruise, and you realised you’d just been branded and marked.

You were his. As long as he didn’t think that gave him the right to be a controlling asshole, (unlikely, considering it was him), that was perfectly fine with you.

He straightened up, sliding back inside you so smoothly it almost took you by surprise. He kissed you as his hips met yours, and you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Fuck me,” you murmured against his lips.

“Gladly.”

His hands cupped your hips and he eased out before thrusting hard and deep. Your lips parted as a groan escaped you, and you braced your hands on the tabletop for balance.

Connor gripped you tight, holding your hips in place as he drove into you, hitting the spot deep inside you that made your eyes roll back in your head. You moaned, becoming increasingly aware that if he kept going, he was likely to make you forget your own name, let alone Gavin’s.

Of course, he didn’t get tired or need to pause for breath, so when he’d said he was going to fuck you hard, not only did he mean it, he meant relentlessly. You weren’t sure if it was minutes or hours before he’d reduced you to a babbling mess. It felt so unbelievably good, time lost all meaning. Maybe he was skilled enough to stretch it out for ages, or maybe your brain wanted to preserve the feeling and made it feel longer, but either way you felt as if the two of you were in your own private world, unattached from the real one.

The hand that wasn’t holding your weight found its way into his hair, an anchor point for you as you floated on a sea of bliss. Your head lolled back as the pleasure making your nerves sing started to coil in your abdomen, and Connor latched onto your throat.

“Yes!” you gasped. “Mark me again.”

He made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl, but he obliged you, biting at your neck and sucking at your skin.

“Oh god, Connor!”

He braced a hand next to yours, his other at the small of your back as he held you against him and fucked you into the most powerful orgasm you’d ever experienced. You let out a strangled cry, your body shuddering in his arms as wave after wave of pleasure sent you reeling. You were shaking so badly, you almost didn’t notice that he peaked right after you.

You were going to have to work really hard if you wanted to beat him at pool, since all you were going to think of when you saw the table was the fact that you’d been fucked senseless on it.

He held you close while you trembled, your body coming down after the intensity. When you felt calm and lucid enough to move, you opened your eyes to a close-up view of his shirt, and the feeling of his fingers gliding through your hair. You were still sitting on the edge of the table, but Connor held you against him, keeping you upright. He’d softened inside you, and was slowly slipping out. You mourned the loss of him.

“Are you alright?” he asked you.

“Yes.”

He leaned back to meet your gaze, and you smiled at him. He returned it, his thumb caressing your cheek. You followed his eyes as they tracked over you, and saw him linger on your neck before sending you a small, apologetic glance.

“There’s…quite a mark there,” he said a touch sheepishly. You almost laughed at the contrast in his demeanour.

“I don’t mind. It’ll keep Gavin guessing.”

He smiled, but quirked an eyebrow. “You still remember his name. I guess I’ll have to do better next time.”

“Next time?” Your tone was teasing, but you also wanted to know where you stood.

“I’d like there to be a next time,” Connor said earnestly. “Many next times, in fact.”

“I’d like that too,” you said without hesitation. “And…you can go harder on the dom thing. If you want, I mean.”

“I wasn’t sure…”

“Neither was I, but… It was fucking hot.” You shrugged, a little self-conscious. “I think I might be a sub. At least, for you."

His eyes lit up with a spark of heat and intrigue, and you felt a tired thrill zip through you.

“In that case,” he said, lifting you off the table and into his arms, “I guess I should take you home and fulfil my aftercare duties.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Sounds good, but pants first.”

“Why?” he said impishly. “You’re not going to need them.”

Well, fuck. Who were you to argue?

#my fics #connor #connor x reader

45 notes · View notes