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kurtie4life96 · 2 years

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14 and 17 on your smut list with steve harrington please? if youre taking requests? maybe a girl was flirting with him (not reciprocated ofc) and reader is heated?? love u!

Of course baby, I love you too!!

Heated ♡ S.H. x Fem Reader

Summary: Reader is pissed when she sees Steve "flirting" with another girl at one of his house parties. How will he handle it?

CW: MDNI 18+, smut, dom!Steve, sub!reader, mad!reader, jealousy, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected rough sex

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The scent of cigarette smoke, weed and spilled beer flooded your nostrils, only adding to the disgust you already felt.

You crossed your arms and laid back in one of the chairs beside the pool, watching party goers laughing loudly, stumbling in and out of the back door, couples fighting and making out in the shadows.

Yes, another one of Harrington's infamous house parties. Normally you would find yourself drinking, goofing off with friends, and having the time of your life. But not this time. This time, was different.

You looked over to your right to find a drunken man, passed out in the deck chair behind you, and scoffed.

Glancing from across the other side of the pool, you saw Steve and Nancy having a conversation. Must have been a good one, considering how much he was making her laugh, her shoving his shoulder playfully, nearly spilling her drink in the process.

You couldn't help but feel enraged watching the two of them together, rolling your eyes in annoyance. Sure, they had been broken up for a long time now, just friends. And sure, you and Steve weren't exactly in an established relationship, but the two of you had been hanging out a lot recently, the two of you flirting, going for ice cream, having long phone conversations, seemingly having the same feelings for each other.

Or so you thought.

You thought for sure that Steve would kiss you, ask you out on a proper date, ask you to be his girlfriend, any time, any day now. Maybe you had misinterpreted the situation.

So you couldn't help but to stare at them, shifting in your seat uncomfortably, absolutely writhing with jealousy, with anger. How could he let Nancy just flirt with him like that, right in front of you, knowing that you'd been crushing hard on him?

As you continued to glare at the two of them, Steve suddenly caught your gaze, his smile quickly fading from his face, a concerned look replacing it.

You quickly looked away from him, pretending to just be dazing off, hoping he didn't catch you staring at him, but as you glanced back, he was still looking at you.

You groaned in anger, turning to the side and standing up, fists balled up as you stomped away through the drunken crowd in long strides, a furious expression on your face.

You walked into the house, absolutely fuming as you headed towards the front door to leave.

"Hey," A familiar voice grabbed your arm, stopping you, "where are you going?"

You whipped around to see Steve, a confused look on his face. He had seen you storm away and chased after you.

"I'm leaving." You announced, pulling your arm back from him.

"Hold on," he stopped you from turning around again, "why are you leaving?"

"Just tired. Bored. This party sucks ass." You shrugged your shoulders sarcastically, unknowingly glaring right through him.

"You know," Steve chuckled, "you're really bad at hiding your facial expressions. Can you tell me what's actually wrong?"

You sighed, exasperated, and looked around the room, making sure no one was within earshot, then leaned back into the front door, crossing your arms and staring at the ground.

"I don't know, Steve, I guess I thought we were a thing, but apparently that's not the case."

He looked at you, perplexed, and motioned at the back door.

"Why, because of Nancy?"

You shrugged your shoulders again, raising your eyebrows at him and looked away.

"Me and Nancy, we're just friends-"

Steve's explanation was interrupted by a belligerent man, accidentally bumping into him, mumbling a 'sorry' before walking away.

He sighed, running his hands through his hair, then took you by your hand.

"Come on, let's go talk upstairs, okay?"

You rolled your eyes, and hesitantly accepted his offer, following his lead as you walked up the stairs.

Steve led you into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him and locking it as you stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed again.

"Listen," he turned around, stepping towards you, "me and Nancy- that was so long ago, we're just friends!"

You stayed silent, a fixed look of hostility on your face.

He took another step towards you, grabbing your arms and sliding his hands down to hold yours.

"I do have feelings for you, I really do. You drive me crazy," he laughed, "you weren't wrong about anything. I feel like I made it pretty clear that I only want you."

"Yeah, well you put on a great fucking show telling me otherwise, Harrington." You snapped, your blood beginning to boil.

Steve went quiet, breathing as he gazed at you, his eyebrows screwed together.

He leaned forward, his face only inches from yours, his eyes burning into yours as thoughts ran through his head.

And then he smirked.

The motherfucker smirked.

He quickly grabbed your shoulders harshly, slamming you into the wall behind you, making you yelp. The sound was quickly drowned out as he crashed his lips onto yours eagerly, his lips searing in passion.

You hummed into his mouth, surprised at how the action made your skin burn with pleasure, feeling almost animalistic. He smiled against your lips.

"Is this what you need," he asked in a husky voice between hard kisses, "you need me to show you how badly I want you?"

Steve grabbed your wrists with one hand, holding them tightly above you as he gripped your jaw with the other, licking into your mouth, pulling you in for a deeper embrace, only breaking the kisses to take sharp breaths.

He sucked on your bottom lip, bringing it into his mouth and letting it go with a loud pop, but not before biting down onto it, tugging it with his teeth, then kissing it again with a satisfied groan.

"Steve," you moaned softly, feeling an ache between your thighs, still under his tight restraint.

He smiled wickedly, beginning his descent down your neck, "Is this what you need? You need me to show everyone who you belong to?"

You sighed in agreement as he pushed a leg between yours, biting and licking down your neck. He let go of your arms and grabbed the hem of your shirt, pulling it off of you and then taking his own off in a frenzy.

He unclasped your bra and yanked it off, kissing and sucking his way from your neck to your chest harshly, moaning against your skin as you raked your fingers through his soft hair, tugging it as you whined helplessly under his touch.

Steve pulled his face back, admiring his work, smirking slightly as he stared at the scattered bruises across your neck and chest.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark, pupils blown, a sinful look on his face, his lips parted, panting lightly.

"You're so fucking hot when you're mad." He confessed, gazing at you through half lidded eyes.

You whined again, staring at him pleadingly, your nerves on fire as you rubbed your neglected thighs together for some kind of friction.

He smiled at you, kneeled, then began unbuttoning your jeans, pulling the zipper down teasingly slow, you quivering as he slipped his fingers underneath your jeans and panties, sliding them off swiftly, tossing them to the side.

"I was right," he breathlessly chucked, "I knew you would have such a pretty pussy."

Steve reached his hand out to touch your heat, but you crossed your legs together nervously, almost feeling embarassment from how unnecessarily jealous you were previously, mixed with the overwhelming feeling of the prettiest boy you'd ever seen, kneeling before you, just for you.

"Baby," he cooed, "do you want me to touch you?"

You were silent, but nodded eagerly.

"Don't be shy, uncross your legs then."

You did as you were told, making Steve groan, making him whisper your name like a prayer.

He looked up to you again, a sinful look in his eyes, as he stroked his fingers lazily against your folds, his breathing shaky as he reveled in how wet you were, muttering expletives, and slid a finger inside your soaked hole easily.

You gasped at the action, throwing your head back and grabbing his hair desperately, a silent way of saying, more, please, more.

He smiled at your reaction and slid in a second finger, fucking his fingers in and out of you at a perfect, but yet achingly slow pace, massaging them rhythmically inside of you, before curling his fingers.

"Fuck, Steve, oh my god," you cursed, arching into his hand, tugging at his hair harder, making him hiss.

Steve hiked your leg up over his shoulder, pulling it to the side to give him more access, and licked his tongue lazily over your clit, still pumping his fingers in and out of you, hitting your G spot in a way that made you feel intoxicated.

You were a mess of moans and pants, his tongue gliding across your clit long and languid. It felt like velvet, silk, satin on your soaked heat as you grinded into his mouth.

Steve took your bud into his mouth, now sucking on it hungrily, as he quickened the pace of his fingers, moaning against you, making your hips twitch, fire beginning to burn in your abdomen.

"Steve, fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna cum-"

He quickly removed his fingers and mouth from you, making you gasp and whine in frustration at the loss.

"Not yet." He rasped, a dark look in his eyes.

He stood up, unbuttoning his pants at a rapid pace, then taking his hard length into his hand, grabbing the back of your thigh and lifting your leg up.

Your eyes widened as he pushed all the way into you with one quick thrust all at once. You both moaned loudly in unison, your gummy walls clamping down on him instantly.

Steve pulled out and thrusted into you, one, two, three times more, before grasping the back of your other thigh, lifting both your legs up, pushing you against the wall as he thrusted into you sharply, setting a brutal, unrelenting pace.

You closed your eyes, hands over your face, feeling his thick cock inside every inch of you, in complete euphoria as he continued to pound into you, over and over again, against the spot you so desperately needed.

"Don't hide your pretty face," he groaned, his hair a mess, his mouth slightly agape, his lips still wet from your slick, "look at me when I fuck you."

You opened your eyes, complying with his demand as you looked into his.

"Good girl."

You wrapped your arms around Steve's shoulders, smashing your mouth against his, your kisses messy and deep, teeth and tongues clashing, breaking them to take sharp breaths in between.

You bit back a loud moan, gazing into his hooded eyes as you felt your stomach tighten, your abdomen on fire again as he continued to fuck into you harshly.

Steve noticed, giving you a slight smirk.

"You gonna cum?" He panted, "Don't be so quiet, let everyone know who you belong to."

"Oh god, I-"

The coil in your stomach burst, waves of pleasure washing over you as you cried out his name loudly, your walls clenching on his hard length tightly.

Steve groaned, following closely behind you, and moaned your name and a series of expletives, his orgasm hitting its peak, emptying himself inside of you with one last powerful thrust, his hips stuttering.

You kissed each other passionately towards the end of his high, then slumped into him, your head resting on his shoulder as he continued to hold you up with his strong arms.

He panted, turning his head to kiss you all over your face for what seemed to be a hundred times, Steve nuzzling into the crook of your neck, and he lightly chuckled, whispering into your ear,

"You're mine."

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wishluc · 1 year

Text

✧ CW: yandere character, stalking

You'd never have guessed that General Mahamatra Cyno was such an avid fan of Genius Invokation TCG.

It came as a huge shock when you, waiting for an opponent to duel with, heard the all-too-familiar voice addressing you.

"May I join you for a game?"

That day, Puspa Café was bustling with patrons, as per usual. Still, you had managed to find yourself a seat on a secluded table by the corner, where you could comfortably wait for someone to join you. Despite being somewhat new to the game, you had quickly grown to love Genius Invokation TCG, and were now a regular customer here.

You watch, with wide eyes, as Cyno stands by your table with an expectant look. Immediately shaken out of your trance, you nod and, with bated breath, stare at him again as he takes a seat across you.

"Excuse me," Cyno says, before surveying your cards, picking up one to look at the back. It doesn't seem to bother him that you've not given him a single response yet.

"General M—"

"Cyno the Adventurer," he smoothly interjects, closely inspecting your card back, "I hope that you won't let my position waver your interest in my duel, but if it helps, you can just think of me as someone else. So while I'm here, please refer to me as such. You had this commissioned in Liyue, yes?"

"Yes..." you're not sure how he knew, but maybe Cyno was familiar with the artist's works, "But, adventurer...?"

He nods, "and you are...a poet traveling to find inspiration."

"A poet," you echo weakly, confusion heavy in your voice, "yes..."

"Before we begin, I'd like to give you some tips. You'd be better off using an artifact card than this weapon card. Also, the synergy between these cards won't be as good as these, and..."

Was this just a characteristic of a professional player? You're not sure how he managed to identify your go-to cards and analyze your usual strategy so quickly, but it didn't appear too strange that someone like Cyno was so quick to identify the flaws in your gameplay.

The duel itself was undeniably exciting. Cyno had cards you hadn't seen yet, cards, he told you, that were exclusive to Mondstadt. Even his card back was done by a famous illustrator based in Mondstadt. You were almost envious of his cards. However, when Cyno unsurprisingly won, he only frowned. Your mind raced for explanations. Was he disappointed in your play? Did he think you were holding back in fear of upsetting him? It would be awful if he had a bad impression of you just from a card game, and though he didn't strike you as someone to hold such views, you couldn't help but be cautious.

"Another game?"

After a considerable amount of time had passed, and three more games had ended with varying results, Cyno was finally ready to retire.

He clears his throat, "next week," he declares, "I'll be here again. Will you be available for another game?"

You mentally ran through your schedule. Next week...you didn't have anything planned as of yet. Regardless, how were you going to turn down a personal invitation from the General Mahamatra himself?

"No," you tell him, "then, I'll see you...?"

Cyno hums, looking deep in thought.

"Next week, I'll be the ex-leader of an Eremite camp. A fugitive seeking to reform his old ways. And you can be..." he trails off, instead giving you a gentle command, "surprise me."

You don't know what to think of him, really. He was a lot more eccentric than you had heard, but for the most part, he was...harmless. Ultimately, like the other players in the café, Cyno was just here to have fun. While you mull over the possibilities on your way home, you fail to realize a card from your deck had gone missing. It was one of the weapon cards that Cyno himself had advised you against using, and at the time, you hadn't noticed anything, so overwhelmed as you were by his presence, but he had pocketed it for himself. It would soon find itself a new home inside Cyno's own case, not that you would ever know.

It was only a small token taken to commemorate your first official meeting. Next time, Cyno was hoping to get his hands on a much better prize.

all works © wishluc. do not copy, steal or repost my works on other platforms. (including translations)

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oxygenbefore1775 · 10 months

Text

am i wrong giving my all making you stay tonight

➥zeke x fem!reader

➥tags: canonverse, the year is 850 just before zeke is deployed to paradis

➥cw: major mentions of hatred towards eldians, star-crossed lovers and forbidden relationship trope, zeke is a narcissist and a dick here, the reader is also not that nice tbh, twisted marriage proposal and all that comes with it, zeke has some morbid fascination with his death, derogatory treatment from zeke (it's hella toxic); nsfw! (mdni) but it's at the very end so don't hesitate to scroll all the way down if you wanna skip all the explanation to them fucking, rough fucking, man handling, prone bone, kinda dacryphillia, talking during sex, one instance of hair tuggung

➥wc: 8.4k — no beta we die like my sleep schedule while writing this

➥summary: the night zeke tells you about his upcoming mission on paradis doesn't go without its consequences.

➥a/n: so i have this huge-ass zeke fic that i'm writing in my mother-tongue and because i'm sooo original w my content on tumblr rn i'm just gonna translate some parts of it here with some alterations - prepare for some incoherent shit, i warned you, that's like the most delulu zeke i have ever written

He is not to be trusted.

There's a deceit lacing his each word.

Cold and cunning, he was nonetheless charming. You would be lying if you denied the scorching languor that the ice of his blue eyes kindled in you.

Fleeting sentiments filled your mind in his presence, renderring you deaf and numb to your own thoughts. Not to mention his words, their poison failing to fill your absent body as you often lost the thread of the conversation. A lopsided grin curled his lips whenever you found yourself confused and unable to answer his simplest of questions, yet again, your thoughts a molten and twisted mass. You knew no end to his teasing for your frivoulness that he elicited from you with naught but a look.

Who were you, compared to the War Chief Yeager? Neither wits nor status was on your side to rebuke his taunts. Courage was failing you, fleeing at the mere sight of the red gracing his left arm. Retaliatory jabs never landed, the harsh words melted at the tip of your tongue before ever reaching him. How he reveled in seeing you like this, feeble and helpless. Just some stupid Eldian girl, that's what you were in his eyes. Unfit to be by his side.

And yet, he yearned for it nonetheless. Otherwise there was no other explaination to the slight arrogance bleeding into the way he spoke to you, leaving no other interpretation but that of a hunter taunting a mortally wounded beast. A whim, display of power, oversaturated and evident.

Occasionally he would condescend to your polite and humble requests, presenting them in a way that painted him as virtuous, as if you should be overflowing with gratitude and praises for his mere consideration of your proposals. He, however, never stooped to an open request himself, whether it be willful ignorance or inability to put thoughs into words. In such cases you were left to rely blindly on your own insight, forced to navigate through the murky water of his genuine intentions.

But witnessing this facade of complacency that masked his features most of the time disappear never failed to amuse you. How easily it could be shattered with a simle act — merely increasing the distance between you by a few steps during your routine strolls or better yet vanishing entirely from his line of sight amidst the crowd. That's all it took for the cold arrogance to crumble away and give way to a barely palpable unrest as he sought to bridge the unfavourably long gap that had grown between you unbeknownst to him. Not too close, though, being wary of avoiding the contact between your bodies.

The game he played to you was cruel yet he persisted in subjecting you to it, time after time. The true nature of his motives eluded you. The shadow of pleasure he took in poisoning your thoughts was hard to deny. Until he inhibits you whole, there would be no stopping to the suffocating hold over you. You were keep falling victim of this, though, the torment gnawing at your body and mind.

His unbroken gaze was the image etched in your memory for eternity. As well as the burning need to keep you near, by his side. Like you not staying at his apartment for the night could cost him his sleep. Like not laying his eyes one you could cost him his peace.

He remained oblivious to the fact that you noticed all of this. How could he possibly entertain those suspicions? A stupid Eldian girl would never. And still...

His gait lacked definition for someone who got the military drills beaten into him from the young age. Strange — even the deepest of thoughts usually failed to lure out a reaction from his body. Always static and phlegmatical, now he paced up and down the room, forgetting you were here in this room with him altogether.

With quick glances, you attempted to read his expression whenever he would pass your form curled up on the couch, and all in vain. His features remained an unpenetrable mask robbed of any emotion. Maybe it was the coffee. Shifting your gaze to the table covered with dirty mugs, your assumption had some reasoning behind it but you quickly brushed it off. He'd been like that long before resorting to the caffein.

Hesitation coursed through your every movement as you struggled to come up with a proper reaction. As intriguing as it was to find out what exactly had been plaguing the mind of steadfast War Chief, you couldn't muster up the insolence of striking up a conversation first. Who were you to inquire, anyway.

"One could hear your thoughts from a mile away."

His voice shook the cushioned silence of the room, bearing the same shadow of amusement he usually graced your way, as if the last hours weren't filled with restless pacing. Looking up to meet his gaze, a spark of amusement melted the cold of his eyes. The chance to divert his churning thoughts towards such a trivial remark seemed to bring him a little relief.

He prompted you with a quirk of his brow. "Speak what is it you have on your mind, or else you might burst."

There was that grin again, dark and painting his features in shadows. You shifted on the couch, nails digging into the flesh of your palm. At this point, each word you were going to say hardly veiled any obscurity since he'd already knew the nature of her question. He liked being proven right.

"Nothing really," your voice lacked the lively rebuke that usually sounded in your constant bickering back and forth, his unrest had seemed to rub off onto you as well. "You just seem off."

Your overtly careful choice of words elicited his soft chuckle. For a few moments he looked down on you, pondering just how much of information he should tell you. If he should tell you. After all, it was the knowledge not meant for the likes of you, civilians.

The light-hearted tone of his voice bore a stark contrast to the atmosphere and the words he was saying. "They're sending me to the island." His lips pressed into a thin bloodless line once he fell silent, his unbroken gaze on your face.

A deep line etched between your eyebrows. Still puzzled, you looked up at him searching for some sort of visual purchase.

The island of devils — any warrior would be elated at the prospect of proving their worth to Marley in battling the spawns of Paradis. Yet this sense of pride never captivated Zeke. More than anything, frustration seemed to have bled into his fair features.

Question, perhaps stupid in its naivete, plagued you so you let it leap off of your tongue. "Is this good or bad news?"

"And what do you think?" He retorted, pained playfullness still lingering in his voice. "When you send four Titans to an important mission and this is followed by five years of silence, how good can those news be?"

The air in the room became thick with smoke and smell of tobacco — Zeke must've lit a cigarette without you noticing. Your nose wrinkling, you slid to the other side of the couch where the gray thick cloud couldn't reach you. Uncanny thoughts soon started festering in your mind.

You cringed at your own way of thinking yet you couldn't help but to ask once more. "Are you—" unflattering crack snaked its way into your voice. "Is it going to be for a long time?"

He must've found your seeming worry endearing. His shoulders trembled in a fit of silent laughter, taking amusement in you. Like a pet who suddenly pulled a trick unbefitting of their intelligence. Artificial light cast dark shadows on his face as he neared the kitchen table, taking a sip from one of the half-empty mugs.

"I can only imagine." He stole a gaze at you, eager to capture the row of fleeting emotion painting your features. "Those four must've done a gravely mistake and now fear to face the punishment or died a long time ago. Now they expect me to clean up after them." Benevolent grin tugged at the corners of his lips. "Warrior children, what a joke to Marley's army."

You shunned the way you had received the news. The insolence to fear, to assume the worst when you'd come to imagine him away on his mission was unacceptable of you, stupid Eldian girl. Your mind shouldn't be a harbor for such doubts. Zeke Yeager is a powerful warrior, the strongest in the unit. The red armband akin to the blood he'd spilt as an honorary Marleyan, a testament to hsi long service for the country. The island devils would be a little challenge for someone like him as his strength a prowess doomed him to imminent success. Your eyelashes fluttered as you sought solace in embrace of your arms, hiding your face in between your knees, away from his piercing stare. And yet you had the worries and you let them slowly eat away at you.

A temper tantrum would hardly influence Marley's decision and rid you of your predicament, but it didn't make you backtrack on your blind desire nonetheless. And he'd be thrilled to see your tears, especially if he was the cause of them.

Solitude started to weigh over your head like a dark stormy cloud. To be apart for such a long time rang so foreign to you. Foreign and cruel. Being at Yeager's side bore its benefits which you didn't hesitate to reap and now that the threat of those upsides being ripped away from you hung in the air, you felt... annoyed. You smiled to yourself at the fact that you'd finally been able to pin down your emotion. Annoyed sounded about right. And nothing else.

Noticing your downcast look, he decided to seal off your state with another barbed remark. "Spare Liberio your distraught sentiments. You weren't supposed to know about this in the first place. And I'd like to keep it that way in the eyes of the other people."

The ice in his gaze was persistent as he locked eyes with you. Not persistent enough to prevent the lopsided grin from twisting your lips.

In a fit of distorted glee, you inquired, your voice barely above whisper, "Why did you tell me about this then?" The words dripped with a mix of curiosity and spite, as if you had unraveled a hidden agenda beneath his carefully constructed facade. Your eyes bore into his, searching for a glimpse of vulnerability or truth amidst the web of deceit that surrounded him.

He was never easy to nail down so you didn't believe your luck when you caught a glimpse of emotion, as weak and light as the candle's flame, flicker in his eyes. And you didn't care for the nature of it — be it the amazement at the precision of your question or the anger with your insolence — it pleased you as long as it wasn't the usual cold spite. You found comfort in the knowledge that he, just like you, may be subservient to something other than his logic. That you're not the only one affected by the news of departure. The satisfaction was short-lived though as his features quickly acquired the same expression as before, a blank canvas you couldn't read.

The nicotine must've cleared his senses seeing as he scoffed at you in a condescending rebuke. "So that you won't make any fuss once you find the house empty." His hand reached to rest under your chin but you didn't accept the gesture, turning your head the other way. Stubborn behavior befitting the image of a stupid Eldian girl he painted you as in his mind. "It's still very much a secret mission so only limited number of people are allowed to know."

His touch rejected, he returned to the table, from which he continued keeping his unwavering gaze on you.

Did his remark suggest that his family was included in this selected group? Meaning, he went out of his way just to tell you? And for what? For you not to worry? Watching him form the corner of your eye, you couldn't help but to adore the stark discrepancy between his words and actions.

"I'll consider this your act of courtesy towards me." You shot back meekly, the tone of your voice suddenly growing more humble. At least you would have the satisfaction of having last word even if it meant resorting to your obsequious self.

Now, after a cigarette or two, he appeared utterly unfazed as if he weren't gambling with his own life by venturing onto the island of devils. When it came to his life, he never seemed to hold it at great value. You were the one to do it in his stead.

Curiosity took the better of you as you turned your head to face him, a hint of concern seeping through your facade. "How dangerous will it be? If the other Warriors had been on the island for five years, then those devils must be strong enough to pose a threat." You couldn't help but shudder at the thought of the mission potentially stretching beyond five years for Zeke. As capable and talented as he was, five years to his life were something that he just didn't have.

Zeke leaned back in his chair, the lazy twirling of smoke rising up out of his cigarette in contrast to the sharpness of the sneer that quickly appeared in the depths of his eyes. "For someone so uninvolved in the military campagns of Marley you seem to have too many questions about this mission. What's with the constant inquiries?" His words dripping with misleading benevolence.

His question momentarily silenced the room, knocking the air out of your lungs. Perhaps you indeed asked too many questions for someone of your station, someone who's supposed to be in a strictly comradely relationship with Zeke. You felt the tension growing more palpable the longer you kept him waiting. The glint in his eyes spoke volumes, a mix of amusement and knowing, hinting at the fact that he'd already got himself a satisfactory answer to his own inquiry. Part of you sensed that he'd guessed it right.

Nonetheless, you rushed to state the opposite in a futile attempt to undermine his own conclusion. "I think it's only logical of any Eldian to take interest in this mission." You pursed your lips before speaking again, feeling how artificial your words sounded leaping off your tongue. "The fate of the whole world depends on its outcome, does it not?"

At this point you'd grown too weary of him, his presence already intoxicating as it is. Why'd he brought you into his house? Just to tell you about his leave, take joy in seeing you shedding a shred of worry towards him but to mock you later for expressing those? Your drilled, bordering on automatic, response didn't win any favour with him yet managed to amuse him to some extent, evident in the way a mischevious grin split his face as he stood up from his chair.

His steps rang louder and louder with him approaching the couch you were sitting on. You let out a relieved sigh, cradling the hope that he'll finally grant you with leave, having had his share of playing games with you.

His eyes told otherwise. "No." He simply shook his head, denying you the last opportunity to leave his house. "I'll argue that there's more to it."

With that, his voice took on more sweetness that he usually allowed himself whilst talking to you which surprised you. At this point of your conversation he'd usually stoop down to tasteful taunts, a stark contrast to the moderation he was currently excercising, making your mind teem with thoughts.

"All the correspondence is forbidden for the Marleyan warriors whilst on the mission. Were you aware of that?" Still lacking a full comprehension of his motives, you nodded your head, your eyes big and doe-like. Nonetheless, he accepted your curt response, elusive benevolence seeping through his features. "Not if it's meant for the close family members, though. Also honorary Marleyans, like me. On that front Marley had been exceptionally allowing."

Again with the obscureness, as if expressing his thoughts in straight sentences would rob him of his last breath. Still, you continued to look at him, your eyes fixated on the enigma that was the fleeting chain of emotions lacing his features. The tips of your ears burning, the supressed frustration at having to sit here and listen to him welled up inside you. His monologue had just took off yet he was already dousing you with mental excercises you were unwilling to solve at this late hour.

Feather-light touch grazed against your temple, his fingers tucking an unruly strand behind your ear, bringing you back to the sound of his musings. "Wouldn't you be worried not knowing about my whereabouts on the Paradis?"

You rushed to deny his groundless assumptions but you found your lips too heavy to utter a word. Thus, he continued, a sliver of benevolent amusement in his tone. "Who knows, perhaps I would be captured or even killed and you would have no idea of my fate?"

The words sounded strange coming from him. He never paid any mind to the morbid consequences that may happen to him whilst on a mission and now that he was shedding light to it in front of you, it filled you with more confusion.

Still, you leaned in closer, intrigued by this newly discovered oddity of his, wanting to her what else he had to say.

"Aren't you?" He called out to you yet there wasn't a hint of condescention to his voice. As if he genuinely took interest in your answer, waiting for you to respond.

And you did answer, with a shallow "yes" whispered in the room. Usually you refrained from such vulnerability as this was often followed with barbed taunts, punishing you for the display of affection to someone as unfeasible as him. But this time, he seemed to had welcomed it.

The spark in his eyes was warm, an exception of his facade you rarely got to see. "Well, I just might help you to get rid of your worries. Would you like that?" You let him touch under your chin, lifting your gaze to see his.

In that moment, the fog of confusion clouding your mind began to lift, revealing glimpses of his true nature. Your eyes widened in surprise as you finally captured what was lurking behind the blue irises. He captured your gaze, too, as well as the sudden recognition, hence the smile, soft and warm, melting the curve of his lips as he opened his mouth to speak. You didn't have to listen to him to know what he was about to say yet it didn't substract from the surrealism of the situation.

"Be my wife."

Out of all the blows, this was by far the most cruel and perverted. The idea seemed too far-fetched, too out of reach for it to have any meaning behind it. You had grown accustomed to his teasing, his banter and the way he seemed to enjoy keeping you on your toes. Can this be another one of his games? Another way to rattle your composure?

Your gaze quickly turned skeptical. You couldn't risk remaining vulnerable in his presence and at this moment. You kept waiting for the mask of pretense to slide right off his face, for him to announce that he had indeed tried to trick you. Yet it stayed all the same, as if the expression was genuine, eyes brimming with inviting warmth like before. Still, doubt lingered within you.

Why should this day be a precedence? An upcoming operation on Paradis couldn't possibly cause this shift inside him. He'd been on other missions before and never before had his unwavering level-headedness left him.

He is not to be trusted. The words that were still echoing in your head are not to be trusted. The mantra sealing your lips, you tried to ward off the terrible temptation to give into what he was saying. He wouldn't hesitate to drag you through the mud if he finds out that you'd fallen prey to his words.

"You can't mean that." It was your final verdict. If he wasn't the one to aknowledge it then you had to be.

The smile on his lips gave way to a lopsided grin, as if your response didn't come as surprise to him. So it had been a game after all, you mused as you allowed yourself a mental praise for your own foresight.

"But I can." The rebuke remaining soft, he kept looking at you, waiting for your eyes to meet again.

It was of no use to you, though. All that you would see in the icy pools would be either that inviting warmth again or a blind wall. And neither of those would cast any light on what had been truly driving his actions all along.

The air felt silent and still. This — all of this — wasn't happenning to you. No night being spent at his house, no awkward pause between you two, no twisted words of proposal. It was all too much for the likes of you, common Eldian girl.

Regardless of your thoughts, he rushed to crush them, bringing you to the undeniable and inevitable reality.

He called out to you again, "So what?" the grin that seemed to appear on his features so often suddenly faded. "Will you be my wife?" You could only chuckle at his courtesy to having finally asked you, instead of bluntly stating his wishes.

With that, he sanked down on the sofa cushions, sitting next to her. The knowledge of his taunts, sometimes ruthless in their nature, implored you to momentarily refrain from answering his question and allowing him to continue, instead. The sincerity had no place in the words he was directing towards you. His statements were not to be held at face value, you had to remind yourself.

Nevertheless, you succumbed to the temptation that had been gnawing at you for a long time as you let your head fall onto his shoulder, the precise movement leaving no room for interpretation of your intentionall gesture. He would be hardly angry with you for such a display of weakness. Quite on the contrary, as your begrudgent vulnerability flattered him immensly.

The weight of the gone day suddenly crushed over you in waves, robbing you of any strength. "A lovely young captain's wife." The saccharine in his tone started to taste bitter. "Mrs. Yeager who would wait for her husband to return from military operations, her body and and soul devoted to him only. Who would meet me with joy and every evening after a working day take off my boots for me."

Wrinkling your nose, you otherwise didn't let your momentary disgust become apparent to him via your posture.

Alerted by your silence, he turned his head in your direction. His breath, hot and tart with tobacco, seared your face. "What do you say?"

Wife. The time had long come for you to forget this word. At this moment and in your position, it was an unthinkable thing for you. Who were you in comparison to the prized asset that Zeke was to the country? He was also no exception, even if the red armband signified otherwise. Bound by his service to Marley, he would never be allowed to dedicate even a sliver of his attention to something not pertaining to his warrior duty.

But on rare occasions you granted yourself the indulgence but also the freedom to your own dreams and you intended to do it today as well. Even if it was the first time for you to voice your hidden desires to someone else, let alone someone who figured in your dreams so often.

The warmth slid along her thigh where he ran his palm across your skin in a thoughtless caress, his touch radiating with heat. Just as thoughtlessly, you caught his movement, taking two of his fingers into your palm.

Being an Eldian in an internment zone, your fate had been sealed long ago yet you found comfort in the knowledge. With your future set in stone, you had all the freedom to fantasize about your chimerical impossible life.

Soon enough you started speaking, your words bearing the same bliss that his were. "Then your huge bath would be all mine and I would bathe in it every day. Definitely with bubbles. And you wouldn't be able to tell me anything against it."

Your ears caught a faint chuckle escaping his lips, accompanied by a subtle exhale.

The prospect of sharing a life with the captain held an irresistible allure. Despite all the taunts lacing his words, a grain of truth resonated within them. This was perhaps the best outcome an Eldian from the internment zone such as yourself could ever hope for. A sharp-tongued and occasionally unbearable husband aside, the advantages of such a union far outweighed the disadvatages. As the capitan of the warrior unit, his duties would often take him outside of Liberio, leaving you to revel in the opulence of your home for many days and even weeks to come.

Contrary to his words though, you would hardly harbour any sentiments over him not being by your side as he had teasingly described to you. Your heart would be unlikely to languish in lamenting the frequent separation, seeing as the luxury of your home would occupy your whole mind, sparing not a single thought for your warrior husband. Even in your sweetest dreams the love that typically exists between the spouses was conspicuously absent in your marriage. Such an emotion was barred for the two of you, as you remained essentially strangers to one another.

Your eyes dropped to the entanglement of your fingers from which he was in no hurry to free himself.

You started to forget yourself, as the most sincere of words weighed heavy on the tip of your tongue. "But also the coffee that you would brew every morning. I really like it."

His lips momentarily twitched, as if your timid praide had either amused or touched him.

A casual impudence found its way into his retort. "Oh no. After I get married I won't go into the kitchen at all so it will all be the responsibility of Mrs. Yeager." He dragged out the last words a little. "I don't want a wife who can't even make me coffee."

The warmth of his body enveloping you, you pulled your knees to your chest and settled into the comfort of your position. Usually, neither of you was insolent enough to seek proximity in each other's presence in this way. Besides sex, your bodies rarely touched, but at this moment it was all too tempting to mind your self-restraint. And yet, your move didn't provoke irritation in him. Instead, it seemed to have awakened a temporary surge of affection within him. He even opened his arms wider, as if embracing you more deeply. However, you couldn't ignore the subtle stiffness in his gestures, a reminder of the hopeless underlying truth about your relationship. You two were far from being a married couple and the likelihood of you ever becoming spouses seemed increasingly remote.

Possible or not, the illusion was sweet enough to numb the cynicism of your predicament.

Yet another breath of his scorched the shell of your ear. "But will you teach me? How to make coffee?" Your inquiry laced with naive politeness, you smiled as you felt his chest, a barely audible hum rumbling the air. "Will my husband have any other expectations of his poor tireless wife?"

In a feigned attempt to challenge him, your palm closed around his fingers even tighter, as if she wanted to attract even more of his attention to her.

This ploy of yours appeared to be succesfull, seeing as his hold of you grew closer. "Your husband would like you to spoil him with your cooking every day." He said with a soft chuckle. "Not that I have tried your food but that is all trivial. My regeneration can withstand the effects of any poison so your cooking would hardly deal any damage to me, no matter how disgusting it may be."

You fell silent at the lack of a proper rebuke, letting yourself get lost in this moment that you doubted you would see again any time soon.

And you were proven right. Just as you began to embrace the newfound comfort of your position, your hopes to have this moment last a bit longer were swiftly shattered. The warmth in his voice dissipated, replaced by a chilling tone as he leaned in to whisper into your ear. "Why deceive yourself?" His words dripped with cold determination. "I know all too well why someone like you would like to meddle with someone like me."

With no further explanation, he presented you with his armband, bright red fabric carelessly thrown onto your hand. The shift in his disposition was so sudden that you took a second to even register the feel of rough cloth against the skin of your palm. Disturbed by the intrusive nature of his inquiry, you tried to pry yourself away from him yet he didn't let you, his fingers finding their place under your chin to turn your face to him. The pools of his blue eyes were colder than ever, studying your expression, not losing sight of each fleeting emotion painting your features, as if the silent observation would provide him with more answers instead of just asking you directly.

Yet you didn't feel fear. In all the time that you had known each other, he never gave you the reason to be afraid around him. This surely had to be attributed to his charms since his each action, no matter how twisted or condescending, held a certain allure over you. Even now as you were pinned down in your place and forced to continuosly look back at him, all you could feel was frustration welling up inside you.

Your exasparetion started to overflow, evident in the way your brows knitted together. "You're hurting my neck," you voiced your discontent in a soft manner, only to be met with his unamuzed gaze.

He only got closer to you, your bodies pressing up against each other, his lips so near to yours that your mouth began to water at the bitter taste of tobacco dancing on your tongue.

Your protests were heeded, and he released his hold on your chin, seemingly satisfied with gazing at you. Another whisper, hot and sibilant, flowed into your ear. "It was hard not to notice, you stared at it too often." Instinctively, your hand tightened its grip on the red fabric, drawing it closer to your chest. "But I can understand your fascination with that thing. What is it that you want exactly?"

Considering all his past actions, his question sounded almost too caring, too soft and too thoughtful for someone like him. Were you a bit more perceptive in that moment, perhaps you would have been touched by his genuine interest but instead you couldn't help but to feel exposed. Maybe you did stare at it too much, as hardly a conversation with him went by without your excessive attention being drawn to some piece of fabric instead of the person it belonged to. You hoped that he hadn't been awake during the nights when you dared to harbor enough insolence to take the armband from his nightstand and pose with it in front of the mirror, the reflections of you with a red ring circling your left arm looking so dreamy and beautiful.

Hardly any Eldian in the internment zone didn't want to be an honorary Marleyan, and you were no exception. In fact, you were the most trivial showcase of this bold desire. It can give you a better life and safety and freedom, most of all. Freedom to go beyond the stone walls of the internment zone, even if for just a while.

In all your life you never came to think that the armband could be attained through the means Zeke had proposed to you not so long ago.

You were thankful to him for still keeping his composure. At least one of you had to. "So what is it? Everything, I assume?" You felt his breath hitch as soon as you answered with a curt nod. "Then everything it is. And I will give it to you."

The right words were coming hard to you yet you couldn't wait any longer to voice them. Pulling away, you finally put some distance between you two, finally free from his suffocating warmth. "Are you hearing yourself right now?"

Your attempts to reason with him were quickly put to rest with a single gaze he graced your way. The intensity in his eyes made your words falter on your lips, as a knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Right now, each of my word has weight so listen to me while I'm still talking."

Surprisingly, it worked. But it wasn't for his concise argument but rather the oddly familiar expression in the depths of his eyes. As you gazed deeper into those pools of blue, you saw a reflection of your own yearnings, a crack in his flawless facade. A pained smile bent your lips as you reveled in the realization that Zeke had given way to the same sentiments as you. And you thought once that he was insusceptible to this. A dark chuckle escaping your lips, the gravity of your predicament started to set in. Fools, both of you.

In a haste you took off his glasses before kissing him. You didn't want the metal frame to poke you in the eye again should the angle be not right.

His lips felt dry against yours, the tart taste of tobacco doing little to prevent you from sliding your tongue into his mouth. He smiled into the kiss as he felt you settling back into his embrace, the cushions collapsing under the collective weight of your bodies.

Your aggressive initiative was a welcome dynamic, with you quickly straddling his lap as he was left to take in the feel of your body. The coil in your stomach began to wind up with each painstakingly slow movement of your hips. The sloppy sounds of kissing rang loud in the room, interrupted only with your breathy whimpers whenever you grazed your sweet spot.

It took him all his strength to pull away, fake and long-soiled paragon of self-restraint lacing his tone when he spoke to you. "The couch would be too narrow for this." The voice barely above whisper.

With that, he grabbed you under your knees, drawing your legs closer to his body for a better purchase. Instinctively, you wrapped your hands around his neck and leaned into his chest so you wouldn't fall when he picked you up. His fingers sank into the pillowy flesh of your thighs as he carried you into the bedroom, your body barely a burden for him. A curt laughter rose from your chest and got lost in the tussels of his fair hair. You hadn't thought him to be so strong outside of his Titan form.

The springs of the mattress wailed as he let go of you, initiating your short fall. He looked down on you, his movements suddenly lacking resolve but his eyes still transfixed on your form. Reluctant to give any more thought to the ponderings teeming his mind, you didn't intend on waiting idly for him to join you. In the growing heat of the room your clothes became a nuisance, just another one of the barriers standing between you two.

Your fingers untypically spry for the state that you were in, you reached for the rows of buttons on your clothes, unburdening yourself layer by layer all the while watching him watch you.

Evidently, the sight of your naked form helped him come to his senses quickly as he stepped closer to the edge of the bed. In a bout of anticipation coursing through your veins you extended your arms towards him in an alluring invitation, starving to taste the tobacco on your tongue again.

All the same dark grin of his told otherwise. Instead of granting you the satisfaction of having his mouth on yours, he grabbed the hold of your hips to flip you over, tight grip sure to leave marks on the skin in the morning to come.

His weight came crushing over you, knocking the air out of your lungs and pinning you in place. Although he was using both of his hands to support his body, with each at the either side of you, it brought you little relief.

"Like I was saying," his lips pressed against the shell of your ear, you felt as if the reverberations of his voice reached your brain. "Marley allowing me to marry is more real than you think. Don't think they would refuse their most valuable asset in such a trivial matter. Maybe I'll even start winning more wars for them."

Your mind refused to give any more attention to his words, demanding a tangible satisfaction instead. You tried to arch your back in hopes that the sudden contact of your pelvises would make him forget his musings, forcing him to stoop down to the same level that you found yourself on, but it was all futile. Under the immense pressure your lower torso was rendered immobile, as if fused with the plush mass of the mattress.

The skin on your shoulder tingled with faint prickles where he rested his chin. "The armband, as significant as it may seem, is not the solution to each of your problem in the internment zone. A glorified scrap of fabric signifying that you're just a bit less miserable than all the others, that's what it is, really." he spoke, his voice tainted with sullen knowledge.

You absolutely hated how he remained so stationary while in arguably the most compromised position and how you lacked the power to change it. "Then why are you willing to go through the trouble of giving me one?" You hissed into the cradle of your palms, tone brimming with impotent dissatisfaction.

The next moment you felt him grabbing a fistful of your hair, with a violent tug forcing your head to turn to the side, your neck almost snapping from the sheer power of the motion. You were met with his gaze, angry yet at the same time seemingly insulted by your insolence to question his motives again. You responded in kind, your eyes watching his lips in anticipation of yet another one of his countless self-serving musings to be voiced. But you didn't hear any. He let go of your hair just as suddenly, nudging you to face away from him.

Sitting up straight, his body weight shifted towards your thighs as he was straddling them. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed his shirt falling to the ground. The sound of the belt buckle coming unfastened was the next thing you heard, the soft clang of the metal clasp filling you with thrill.

His hand snaked its way to your abdomen, pressing against the small of the belly to make you raise your hips and you felt happy to oblige, displaying yourself nicely to him. His touch lingered on you for quite some time after that as both of his hands traveled to the back your thighs, absentmindedly caressing the supple flesh in lazy broad strokes. A surge of goosebumps cascaded across your body, each wave driven not only by his scorching touch but also by a sudden flash of realization.

He must have noticed how shamelessly wet you were. The positioning of your hips left barely any room for his imagination and presented him with the delectable view of your slit, slick covered and pulsing with heat. Exasperated, you bit down on your lower lip to supress a desperate moan all the while he took his sweet fucking time to revel in the way your cunt flutterd around nothing begging to be filled. As much as you wanted to feel him inside you, you kept your pleas to yourself, left solely at the mercy of his self-restraint which you hoped had started to diminish already. You'd rather die than make your weakness for him known again, as if your body wasn't enough of an indicator already.

Eternity might have passed but he eventually moved, shifting some of his weight back onto his arms as he mounted you.

You couldn't help but gasp at the way your walls enveloped him, struggling to take his girth at first. A drawn-out raspy fuck emitted from his chest once he entered you, his motion slow yet persistent as he slid his cock deeper inside you. Careful not to harm you, he halted whenever your breaths became too shallow and frantic from the stinging of the stretch, not moving any further without your leave.

Minutes later you felt him reach the deepest part of your cunt, the immense pressure from his continuous thrust built at the bottom of your stomach, so unbearable that it rendered all the other sensations non-existent. There was no way he couldn't feel your body tensing up below him. Nonetheless, he kept on pushing, as if trying to break you. Even as you tried to get away from the uncomfortable feeling, he stopped you, putting his palms over yours as another way to pin you down. The weight of the pressure bore down on you relentlessly, within mere seconds, tears began to bead on your lashline, threatening to cascase down your cheeks and fall onto the sheets.

The skin of your nape grew hot where he doused it in kisses. Twisted sense of comfort welled up inside of you in hopes that his caresses, so out-of-place yet so warranted, would at the very least provide some relief to you. It seemed that he would persist until you fully succumb to him. A whispered praise poured into your ear once all the struggle left your body and your flesh became pliable to him.

Only then did he back down. Letting you catch your breath as one of his hands traced its way to your face, brushing a strand aside to get a better look of your eyes glistening with tears.

Little did you know that it would be the final act of gentleness he bestowed upon you for a long time, leaving you yearning for more. You didn't even had the time to savour it as he set a new unforgiving pace.

Beyond the tingling sensation of his cock dragging against your walls in a brutalizing manner, sharp hissing grazed your ear. "Why in hell would I go through the trouble of giving you one," he tantalised, each of his thrusts only adding to the mockery. "So you won't forget that you're mine while I'm be away".

"Mine and safe," he murmured then, confident that you won't hear him.

It wasn't his voice. It sounded so unlike him in this moment, frail and vulnerable, but you were the only people in the room so it must've been him.

A jolt of pleasure railed through your body with the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot over and over again, driving you wild. Your pleasure became apparent to him as well, his motions gaining more precision to increase the blissful sensation for you.

Struggling to form words you nonetheless tried to, your lips and tongue heavy. "So this is what comes with being your wife?" You couldn't believe the tenderness lacing your tone at this moment. The sentiments were a cruel thing, not something you were supposed to have towards him, nor he towards you.

His reply was overtly eager, as he leaned closer to you, your bodies pressing together almost seamlessly. "Pretty much," his voice rang in your ear. "You must admit that you're very fortunate."

You craned your neck to face him, curiosity sparkling in your eyes. Taking in your alluring look, he couldn't resist the glowing skin of your shoulders, so transfixed on tasting the salt of your sweat on his lips that he ground to a halt inside you.

All you could do was rile him up even further, a chuckle escaping your lips. "Oh yes, the prospect of having you cater to my every whim sounds like a remarkably enticing endeavor on my side."

As your words hung in the air, a mischievous glint danced in your eyes, reveling in the effect they had on him. The corners of his mouth curled into a sly grin, mirroring your own playful demeanor and growing heavy with somber tone. With that, his hold on you became tighter, his hand groping at the fat of your thighs.

His hips snapped against yours with such a force that you nearly mewled, feeling the reverberations of his thrust echoing throughout your body. "Enjoying it while you can." His voice dropped to a low, husky timbre, tinged with a hint of challenge and sneer. "You've got only five years left for that."

This level-headed bordering on indifferent demeanor in a blind disregard of his own words struck a nerve with you. You gulped some air, desperate to conceal the outburst within you.

You wished he hadn't remind you of the imminent futility of your secret musings. You wished he would just carry on with pounding into your leaking heat with no thought to it. As he moved inside you, sinking his cock inch by delicious inch, the pleasure of it faded even if your own body continued having visceral reaction to the process, your gummy fluttering around his girth. Now, only lament had residence in your mind. If it wasn't for your unfortunate fate of having been born as Eldians, perhaps you could have a chance at a normal life. Without the constant thoughts of him slipping away.

His resolve undying, he pressed your body deeper into the mattress, the pressure of his hands driving the air out of your lungs all the while his cock kept winding the coil in the pit of your stomach.

"Widowhood would suit you so good."

His voice remained just as mocking as before, as if the life that was put on the clock wasn't his. You, on the other hand, were precisely the one not entertaining such remarks. "Tell me." You could barely make out the words amongst the squelching sounds. "Tell me, will you mourn me? Funeral would be hard to organize, admittedly, with no body left for you to bury, but-"

You rushed to hide your face in the sheets. You heard enough. You didn't want to hear anymore of his taunts.

The words still reached your ear. "Will you cry for me like a good wife should for her husband?" He came to a halt deep inside you yet again, ready to break you should you not answer. "I've never seen those eyes cry before. So will you or will you not?"

The satisfaction wouldn't come so easily to him as you remained motionless under him. Only your shoulders quivered with subtle tremors, betraying the hidden distress that stirred within you. As simple thing such as breathing brought you a lot of struggle so you could only hope that your poise would last through all of this.

"It's not like I've taken your tongue away," he mocked.

A gesture of feigned compassion, you felt his fingers card through your hair, lulling you into false sense of security in hopes of luring out a desired reaction out of you. The sweet tone of his voice came off as cruel and mocking as he coaxed you for an answer, his fingers toying with your clit only adding to the torture.

Sick twisted pleasure, that's what he was getting from all of this. Your answer to his inquiries evident to him, he nonetheless wanted to hear it falling from your lips, dry and bitten at.

Yet, when he spoke again, his voice shed all its malice, barren as it trembled slightly. "At least remember me after I'm gone, would you do that for me?" He called out your name and it sounded vulnerable coming from him, his tone etching deep within your memory.

With a lump forming in your throat, you struggled to find your voice as well as enough air to form a response. There was no purchase for your mind as a scorching wave of orgasm coursed through your body, your face contourting in pleasure and your cunt squeezing in around him. With that, the last bit of poise left you and you broke down completely.

"Yes!" you pushed past your lips, hot tears streaming down your cheeks and your shoulders shaking with each sob.

In this moment you suddenly grew unaware of your surroundings, deaf to his whispers pouring into the ear and numb to the tingling stretch of your core as he was chasing his own high.

The skin of your inner thighs soiled with his seed, you would normally rush to the bathroom to wash away the stench of sex but this time you thought against it, curling up on the bed instead once he rolled off of you. Only now you began to feel the weight of your confession. Why did it have to be you alone to crack under the surge of sentiments that held immense power over you?

He decided to stay in bed as well, watching you struggle to come to terms with what you had just said, complacent grin plastered across his face. Evidently, you made him very happy this night.

"When are you leaving?" you asked in a raspy voice, watching him as he watched you in the enveloping darkness.

His fingers reached for a stray strand, sliding it behind your ear. His tone was thick with mindless glee. "In a couple of weeks, plenty of time for me to convince Marley to green light the marriage." The kiss he left on your lips acquired a bitter taste with time. "What will you say?" At the lack of suitable words, you just nodded dumbly.

He is not to be trusted.

There's a deceit lacing his each word.

But as you gazed deeper into his eyes, glinting in the dark shroud of the night, you let him deceive you yet again.

(phew)

#zeke x reader #zeke yeager x reader #zeke x you #zeke yeager x you #zeke smut #zeke yeager smut #aot smut

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waterfrontcomplex · 4 months

Text

CYCRANE KILLER - A YANQING SERIAL KILLER AU

TW/CW FOR MURDER, VIOLENCE, DISMEMBERMENT, GENERAL MENTAL INSTABILITY, MENTIONS OF ABUSE

AU INFO ↓

after the disastrous battle at dragonprayer terrace, yanqing is left disheartened, confused, and alone. he was just defeated by 2 criminals, and the one person he trusted with his whole being left him there with no explanation.

he gets healed at the alchemy commission, and returns home. jing yuan eventually recovers, and... everything returns to some sense of normalcy. no 'i'm sorry', no 'are you okay?', no nothing. he receives assignments as usual, and goes through with them with ease.

during an assignment in cloudford, he encounters a man who was on the run and had a warrant out for his arrest for domestic abuse. yanqing pursued the man until he accidentally cornered him with some particularly violent mara-struck, and was killed before he could stop them.

that night, he couldn't stop thinking about the man. he had let a civilian die. but... that man was a terrible person. he had a family that loved him, and he hurt them in return. yanqing felt an unexplainable burst of 'satisfaction' or even 'happiness'. that man would never hurt anybody again.

a terrible idea appeared in his head. what if he purposely killed people like those?

it's extremely illegal and goes against his duty as a cloud knight, but they would deserve it and he's just so, so frustrated. so, he looks into a couple cases and finds one he takes interest in. if he wants to go through with this, he can't use yanzhuo or his ice swords; it would make his identity too obvious. he grabs a blade he's been itching to test out, dons a cloak and leaves during the night.

the break-in and murder is easy enough. most people on the luofu stand no chance against him. adrenaline is rushing through his veins, and now there's a body on the floor and his dagger is covered in blood.

the cleanup is simple; he has the knowledge and resources available to make it look as if his target had just vanished during the night. he dismembers and disposes of the body and returns home. he had just killed another civilian... but they were a terrible person— no, they're not even a person. they're just vermin, unworthy of the title of 'human' and waiting to be eliminated. he feels static in his head.

in the following weeks, he does his best to avoid searching up information about his target. yanqing listens in to gossip instead, and gathers that they had been reported missing but no traces were found. he had gotten away with murder.

and he was going to do it again.

the next few nights, he claims more lives; lives of those unworthy of them. after the murders, the static in his head clears, but comes back later. they disappear during the night without a trace.

while disposing of a body, yanqing encounters a partially broken down cycrane with sentience, like his swords. he fixes it up, and it says it doesn't want to 'return to a mundane life of endless deliveries', so he takes it home and hides it. after a bit of searching, he gives it a name: rosebane.

the cases are starting to catch the attention of the higher-ups. the public now knows about the 'mysterious disappearances', and rumors start spreading like wildfire. some claim it's a monster, other say it's a stalker, and some are claiming that it's a whole group of people. nobody suspects him a bit. tensions are high.

yanqing doesn't want the public to worry too much. rumors of a monster could put the cloud knights on high alert. if he let any witnesses see him, they would know it was a human. and if he brings rosebane, they would know it's the same person, and not a group of people. rosebane wouldn't reveal anything about his real identity, and would be particularly useful for tracking down targets. a monster would be extremely concerning, but a person would be... hopefully less concerning. and with a cycrane, it would lead the investigators away from him.

during his next murder, he chooses a time where there would be a witness, and commits the crime, leaving the body. word gets out, and news of the 'cycrane killer' is everywhere. yanqing masks his nervousness as worry for jing yuan, but he doesn't fully buy it.

he's not crazy, he's not insane at all. he doesn't kill for the adrenaline rush, or to clear the static in his head, or for whatever other reason.

he's just... doing the luofu a favor.

☆⋆⋅───────

RELATIONSHIPS

YANQING -> ROSEBANE

friendly. they are extremely close, but can't talk much since yanqing shouldn't bring them out during the day. they're partners in crime, bound to their secret. he finds their sentience interesting.

YANQING -> JING YUAN

tense. yanqing partly blames jing yuan for his... new hobby. he still cares and would never hurt him on purpose, but he's extremely frustrated and confused. he mainly wants an explanation but feels as if he has no right to ask for one. yanqing also has to tread lightly around jing yuan to avoid him figuring out about his murders.

YANQING -> FU XUAN

cautious. if fu xuan suspects him of anything, she could easily rat him out with the matrix of prescience. he's been keeping his distance.

JING YUAN -> YANQING

worry. jing yuan knows yanqing's upset and has been acting strangely ever since he recovered. he also knows that his retainer is hiding something, but doesn't know what.

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angst-king · 5 months

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Beware of Mr. Midoriya

(pro hero Deku + child gender neutral child reader. CW mention of abuse, bullying, & description of bodily harm) In both his pro-hero life and regular life, Izuku is always presented as a sweet and caring man. He always made sure to never make those around him uncomfortable or feel nervous in any way. He was compassionate and sweet and so warm-hearted, many told the public that ‘besides when he’s fighting, pro hero Deku’s practically harmless, he’s just a big sweetheart!’ Even to his child he was great about staying calm in stressful situations and seemed to not have a mean bone in his body.

There was a side to him to that he always shoved down and only his colleagues knew about it. More like layers, there were 3 layers to him and they all had a different name. His old classmates were the ones to name them actually!

There was Deku, the sweet almost puppy dog-like man who’d do anything to see those around him smile. Deku would put his life on the line, he’d put aside his own needs before others in an almost people-pleasing manner. This was the side that knew how to make just about anyone laugh, the side that would hoist little kids into the air and catch them as they fell into fits of giggles.

Then there was Izuku, Izuku was a little more serious. This was the side of him that knew how to get people’s attention. The side that handled more serious villains and confrontation. Izuku could easily switch to Deku at the snap of his fingers. Izuku made plans, handled arguments, and domestic cases, and held most of the tame emotions.

Then….there was Midoriya….or well for some Mr Midoriya. Midoriya was a darker layer, a colder layer. Much like the midnight zone of the ocean, barely any light reached this layer. This was the side that held unchecked anger, trauma, and pain. Midoriya could go from quiet to almost roaring in an instant. Midoriya was hardly ever let out as Deku was pretty good at remaining dominant. He was good about not letting Midoriya out…Midoriya was a last resort. Midoriya handled instinctual reactions, the amount of profanity and cruelness could( and has) made villains cry.

There were very few times Midoriya had ever come out fully. Most times situations were de-escalated just quick enough for him to back down and relax. The first time it happened was on Katsuki actually. This was before Izuku had truly accepted Katsuki’s apology on the battlefield. Katsuki still had tendencies that he would fall back on, and Deku tried to reason with himself that ‘Kaachan was still working on himself, it takes time to be better’.

But with a headache and still running on low amounts of sleep, Deku and Izuku couldn’t keep Midoriya back. And when Midoriya comes out, the class learns that he was a beast!

Ever since that day, Deku did his best to keep Midoriya calm and to not let it happen again as…well he’s pretty sure he retraumatized the class.

Then he got a phone call while at work.

He was filling out paperwork in his office when his phone rang. Seeing that it was from the school he quickly answered.

“Hello” “Hi is this Mr Midoriya” “Yes, this is him, speaking.” “Good, are you available to come down here, we need to have a little chat with you about your child (y/n).” This confused Deku, why would that be? The school’s never called before.

“Um sure, may I ask what for?” “Well, your child has gotten themselves into quite the trouble and is refusing to accept accountability and is likely facing suspension.” Suspension! Okay, that was serious. Izuku quickly rose from his desk and tried to slip on a hoodie over his hero costume. Just like that Izuku was out, and now wondering what his child possibly could have done to deserve suspension! (Y/n) never got into much trouble unless it was something small, and it usually only required an explanation or stern talking to! Due to this, it didn’t sit right in his stomach that his kid would be punished so harshly.

Hurrying down the stairs he quickly tells the others who are in the common room of the facility that he is heading out. Seeing his urgency Katsuki got up.

“The hell are you going?” “To (Y/N)’s school, the school called saying they may be facing suspension.” Even Katsuki had to pause for a moment, he babysat the child pretty frequently, and that little one was an angel!

“Well, call us and tell us what’s up will ya!” “Yup, I will!” Speeding out the door, Deku made it to his car and almost sped down the road with thoughts running through his mind.

When he arrived he did his best to calm himself as he walked inside. Going into the front office the woman at the desk wasn’t too surprised to see him though she seemed a little worried. He saw that concerned glint on her face as he signed in.

“Where is my child-” “Ah Mr Deku there you are!” The principal greeted him, and Izuku turned to her and bowed respectfully.

“Come on back, we need to have a talk,” She said, Izuku nodded but once again asked where his child was and if he could see them.

“You’ll see them soon, once they compose themselves, now come on.” She insisted, Izuku couldn’t shake that sinking feeling but went along with it. Walking into her office, he took a seat in front of her desk and asked what happened.

“Well, I definitely expected better from the number 1 pro hero's child. I truly did, but what they did was despicable.” “What happened?” “Your child beat up another child on the playground during recess earlier, all over some notebook.” Izuku’s face turned serious, his child started a fight? He himself couldn’t fathom it and over a notebook? Izuku asked for more detail on the matter and what the principal said made him question things.

“Yes a notebook, according to the other child, all they did was want to see what they were doing and. (Y/n) snapped, pushed them off of one of the play structures rather harshly, and shoved them to the ground.” That didn’t sound like his precious angel at all! Sure he’d taught them what to do if anyone ever put their hands on them but, even during those lessons the child always seemed to be afraid to hurt anyone. The child was just as harmless as Deku!

‘Something doesn’t feel right about this….this is rather vague. I want to see (Y/n)’

Izuku grew frustrated racking his brain as to why this would even happen.

“Mr Deku, I’m sure you can see why i think suspension, may be best here.” He twisted his thumbs around as he argued with his own thoughts.

‘We need to see (y/n) something is very wrong about this. You know they aren’t like that!’ ‘Maybe if we tell her that, then the punishment will be lessened?’ ‘Are you fucking kidding! Why should our child be punished at all!? We haven’t even spoken to them yet, i want to know if they’re alright!'

Midoriya wasn’t happy, he never liked authority figures, and he couldn’t stand them.

“I-I’m sure (Y/n) wouldn’t do such a thing, really! I can’t imagine them doing something like that!” Deku tried to protest meekly, Midoriya was getting annoyed with his conscious. He hated overthinking and trying to seem sweet like this. Though maybe he should let Deku or Izuku handle this, maybe this was all a misunderstanding

“I-if you’d like I can talk to them, I’m sure they’re very sorry!” “From what I gathered that child has no remorse for what they’ve done and think crying about it will gain them some sort of sympathy. Giving them attention will only enable such behaviors.”

‘(Y/n)’s crying?’ ‘fuck it! I’m handling this myself, I’m not having a repeat of our past happen to them!’

The look on the pro hero’s face darkened, and with a sigh and a small glare he spoke up.

“Where is my child?” “Mr Deku you will see them once we’re done-” “No. You are going to tell me where my child is, now.” He demanded, the principal rolled her eyes and told him that (Y/n) was in the nurse's office. Getting out of his seat as soon as the information was given, he left the office and looked around for the infirmary. Knocking on the door before entering he hears a soft “come in” and almost freezes in his tracks at what he sees.

There his child was, sitting on the floor in the corner of the room. Tears ran down their face, and their school uniform was covered in dirt and blood. There was more blood some dripping from their mouth, nose, and head. Hands clutching their hair tightly in a panicked state as they were hyperventilating and the color in their face drained pale/ashened. He’d never seen their child beat up before but it brought up so many memories. Midoriya called out for their child who looked up like a deer in headlights and tried to scoot further into the corner…

‘Th-they’re afraid of me….’ That broke something him in, the feeling was almost indescribable. To see that his own child feared him and he hadn’t even done anything….they must think that he is mad at them…

Midoriya got down on his knees in front of the child and spoke as calmly as he could.

“(Y/n) I’m not angry at you, just please come here.” He opened his arms, an invite into a gentle embrace he so desperately wanted to keep them in. The child still shakily refused and cried out weakly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna hurt them!” Midoriya knew that his child wouldn’t come to him. So he crawled over to them and pulled them into his chest. Arms wrapped around their smaller body lightly caressing their head and back supporting them. Shushing them and encouraging them out of their panic.

“Shhhh shhhh, Daddy’s not angry with you little hero, I promise. Daddy just wants to help you, I’m right here. No one will hurt you.” He could feel their hands shift to grab onto the plush material of his jumper. Midoriya began to rock his body in a soft back-and-forth manner to try and soothe them, this always worked after nightmares.

“I’m not mad at you, I just want to help you, little hero.” After another minute of deep breaths and gentle rocking, the child seemed to calm down quite a bit. Midoriya grabbed the first aid kit he always had in his utility belt and got to work.

“I’m gonna fix you up, I want you to tell me what happened, okay?” “Y-yes sir” With that deal made Izuku slowly began to patch them up as they explained.

“I-I tried to h-handle it like you and Uncle Kaachan told me. Don’t st-start f-fights but always f-finish them. And th-that kid hasn’t left me alone for a wh-while. He’s always grabbing my notebook and scribbling in them, or hiding it from me. I tr-tried telling a teacher about it…” “And what did the teacher do?” “She said ‘You’re a big kid, handle it yourself’…” That made Midoriya’s blood boil! What the hell was the child supposed to do?! They were handling it by telling the adults!

“So what happened today?” “I-I was on the jungle gym drawing and writing and he came up and grabbed my notebook. I tried to get it back but he shoved me into the big toy so I got back up-like Uncle Kaachan taught me- and i kept trying. He started ripping out pages and when I tried again he grabbed me by the hair and slammed my face in something…it really hurt. He didn’t stop.”

Taking in everything Y/n had told him Midoriya felt like he was gonna explode! His rage with this situation was overwhelming, he could hardly keep himself from going off in front of his child. He didn’t want to, he never wanted them to see him like this but. He couldn’t help it. He would not allow his child to be punished like he was! Oh no!

A low growl rumbled in his chest as he thought of what he was going to do.

“D-daddy” He snapped out of his thoughts and it almost seemed like Deku was in control again. He could still hear the fear in his child’s quivering voice. He smiled widely and answered.

“Yes lil hero?” “a-am i in tr-trouble?” “No my sweet little angel of course not. I’m going to…have a chat with your principal again and afterwards, we’ll go out to your favorite ramen shop. How does that sound?” Their eyes lit up at the mention of going out to the ramen shop! Nodding with glee, Midoriya giggles a little boops them on the nose, and scoops them up into his arms once again this time standing up.

“Now all I want for you to do is remember. Daddy is not mad at you, he is mad at the people who hurt you. So if i seem angry or get really really loud, it's not because of you.” His voice was almost sickeningly sweet and he promised to handle the situation. The child nods and leans into their chest as he makes his way out of the office. He walked back into the principal’s office with a newfound motivation and rage burning in his eyes.

“Sorry for the wait principal.” “It's quite alright Mr. Deku, oh I see you brought them in” “Yes, I did” “Good, so are you ready to apologiz-” “Let me stop you right there, if you think my child is going to be apologizing to anyone here you are very mistaken.” Oh and why is that?” Midoriya shifted his weight onto one hip as he held the child. The pitch in his voice dropped to a deep dark menacing tone.

“Because being a victim of not only peer-on-peer abuse but a teacher allowing this thing to happen after my child brought it to her attention numerous times is inexcusable and disgusting of you to demand!” “Abuse? What abuse? What happened was not abuse” “Abuse is treating (a person or an animal) with cruelty or violence, especially regularly or repeatedly. Do not fucking argue with me what abuse means, believe me, I know it all too damn well. And if you think that for one fucking second I will allow my child to be subjected to it or to be victim blamed. You are just as much of a villain as those i handle on the streets. I’m simply enraged that you think it is appropriate to not only allow a staff member- a teacher no less!- to let this go unchecked but to isolate my child, who i found bleeding and shaking on the floor! I. will. Not fucking allow it!” Midoriya’s voice roared, the hold on his child was tight, not enough to hurt. Not only that but one for all began to flash and the room began to dim only thing illuminating his face was energy from his quirk.

Snarling, and glaring down daggers at the woman who was now shifting nervously in her chair. He made sure that he was close enough to make it seem as if he was towering over her even from the other side of the desk. He wanted her to feel just as scared as his child had felt. He wanted her to feel trapped! This was Midoriya!

“You either fix your fucking policy or I handle you and your school in court!” He growled banging his fist on the desk.

He gave her only a second before heading towards the door, though as he grabbed the nob he turned around.

“I better get an email by the end of the day stating 1: My child will not be punished for this 2: what punishment the bully will be receiving as well as that teacher and 3 an apology for this stupid fucking so-called-meeting you brought me into. My child will also be receiving an apology from you, the teacher, and the bully. Do I make myself clear, principal?” The principal curtly nodded as they now were backed into their own corner. Midoriya smirked and finished off with.

“And it Mr. Midoriya to you”

Leaving the office he heads out to the car carrying the small child in his arms. Driving off the lot he asked.

“How are you doing little hero?” He looked at them through his rearview mirror and sighed.

“M’okay now” “Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel the fact he’d gotten to angry in front of them still ate at him. He hated to be like that in front of children, especially his own. This time it was Midoriya who apologized.

“Hey, little hero….I’m sorry you had to see all of that. You know Daddy doesn’t like you seeing me like this.” “i-its okay Daddy. We all get mad sometimes” Consoled the child, who gave their own little smile.

“Plus you were really cool back there!” “you think so?” “yeah!” “Well, I’m glad you think I’m cool, kiddo” That was a relief!

“Now let's go to the ramen shop!” “yeah!”

Oh that phone call with Kaachan was going to be interesting, to say the least!

#mha parent scenarios #izuku x reader #izuku x child reacer #bad ass deku

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triple-a-aro · 5 months

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[TL;DR bullet point list at the end of this post if you don't feel like reading all this lmao. CW for discussions of transphobia towards transfems and transmascs, various forms of assault, and media transphobia]

So making this blog was a spur of the moment decision from clicking onto a blog that seemed very nuanced in the topics that I like reading about and then immediately turned out to have some very vitriolic opinions about butches, transmasculine people, and trans men (All accompanied by a wonderful side of tbros and transandrophobia truthers dni)

So I wanted to talk about that, I guess! The particularly egregious claim that I saw was that trans men/mascs do not experience assault rates anywhere near the levels of trans women/fems people.

I have seen similar claims here and there and seen, in turn, people who point out some possible flaws with it be dogpiled for dismissing trans women/fem's struggles so, instead of taking away from a post centered on trans women/fems, I want to make my own post on the rates of assault on trans men/mascs.

With that out of the way, I'd like to talk about some of the reasons that the rates of assault on trans men/mascs seem lower than trans women/fems (While not discounting their experiences)

When talking to my friends about these rates, I often hear the phrase "I just don't hear about it as often". My initial assumption was that that means that trans men must simply have lower rates, but in that case was I unlucky? My friends? Many, many trans men/mascs I know have, unfortunately, experienced assault in a way that (admittedly anecdotally) did not fit the trend in common reporting.

I came up with three different explanations that probably all contribute in one way or another, and are as follows:

Trans women/fems are more likely to be reported as, well, trans than trans men/mascs

Emasculation of assault survivors

Trans men/mascs being held to gendered expectations.

To elaborate: 1. Trans women/fems are more likely to be reported as, well, trans than trans men/mascs

While trans men/mascs are definitely included in the general transphobic attitudes, it is almost never as men. Trans men/mascs are almost always "confused, indoctrinated girls" who are "mutilating and damaging their bodies with hormones and surgeries". Whenever talked about, I always see trans men/mascs never referred to as men but as hopeless women.

Trans women/fems, on the other hand, are almost always referred to as trans women (or other, far more derogatory terms, but they almost always indicate transness). Unfortunately, trans women/fems are the main punching bag of transphobia right now, and but the attention on them almost always centers around them being, well, trans.

Therefore when reporting on assault, the media will find it far more sensationalist to report trans women/fems as trans for selling points and clicks rather than as just women. Trans men/mascs, though, I find are far more likely to just be referred to as women, even by progressive areas because it fits the "women experience more assault" statistics. (Not to say that's untrue. But we can prove that without fudging the numbers guys c'mon)

2. Emasculation of assault survivors

Regardless of agab, male assault survivors are less likely to speak up about it due to the surrounding culture and general cultivated toxic masculinity in today's culture. Trans men/mascs are not immune to toxic masculinity. I myself am unlearning some very unhealthy attitudes and behaviours that I learned while coming into my identity as a man.

That included stopping burying my own history of having been assaulted beforehand; At the peak of my indoctrination into desperately trying to prove that I was "manly" enough to be considered a man, I was actively trying to act like it never happened.

While again anecdotal, you do not have to search far for similar stories, especially in cisgender men who have survived assault (be it sexual or not)

3. Trans men/mascs being held to gendered expectations

Both tying into point 2 and general transphobia against trans men/mascs, gendered expectations from both men and women often end up applying to trans men/mascs. Many of the double gender standards apply to trans people of any agab or gender, but I think this affects trans men/mascs in a particularly harrowing way.

For example: A trans man has been assaulted. He wants to talk about it, but is currently finding himself belittled by other men if he does. He goes to a queer space to speak up about it and is given support - But it's support aimed at feminine people, because the "afab experience" is supposedly so similar.

To conclude, I don't think this should have to be a debate. It isa good thing to acknowledge that trans people are often assaulted. But I don't think we should play oppression olympics 2, this time the trauma edition! Do not dismiss trans men/masc's struggles because "trans women have it worse". Thanks for reading.

Alright the TL;DR I promised, because I'm NOT a concise person lmfao

Trans men/mascs are reported as having lower assault rates than trans women/fems, but I do not think this reflect reality for 3 reasons.

Trans women/fems are more likely to be reported as, well, trans than trans men/mascs because of the transphobic vitriol against trans women (and it is therefore sensationalist to highlight the transness of trans women)

Many male assault survivors are HIGHLY emasculated, which could be off-putting for trans men/mascs to report any assault

Trans men/mascs being held to gendered expectations of both women and men, which is again off-putting to report assault.

This shouldn't need to be a debate of "who has it worse". What matters is that we are all united under a common transphobia, and we should not dismiss each other because "this group has it worse".

Trans men and mascs go give some love to your fellow trans people! Trans women and fems go give some love to your fellow trans people! The rest of the trans community go give some love to your fellow trans people! Let's spread some positivity, okay? Go take a drink of water and a nice break, if you can

#transgender #transmasculine #transandrophobia #discourse

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sour-heart-treats · 2 months

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[Almnesia Was His Name Pt. 5 - CW: Implied Child Neglect, Memory Loss - Previous]

The scent of afternoon coffee wafted through the air as Almond poured himself a cup. The quiet sound of the kid who insisted on being his playing with what was apparently her teddy bear kept the house from being too quiet. Mug in hand, Almond wandered into the living room and watched the kiddo enjoy herself alone. Why was she here, again? Someone as young as her should be in school right now, or at least, on the bus. With a sip of his coffee, he'd take a glance at his calendar. Boldface Xs lined the top of the month, with more wobbly Xs towards the bottom. Seems like the kid has been the one marking the days off recently. Makes sense, it was hard to tell what day it was. And today was... Saturday. "That checks out." Almond would mumble to himself, carrying himself out to the living room and setting his coffee on a nearby table to kneel down next to the one that he still didn't know the name of.

"Hey tot, do you want something to eat?" The little one looked up at him, seeming almost surprised that she was being acknowledged. She'd take a second to process the question, looking down at her plush and looking... guilty? Saddened? Why? "I'm... not hungry..." The child quietly replied. Almond's heart felt heavy. "You sure? I could whip you up some, I dunno..." Oh, he actually didn't know. What was in the fridge at this point? "I can see what we have." "I'm... I'm good, really, mom." The title was familiar, but it still didn't feel right being called that. Alm barely knew this kid. The detective sighed, knowing full well that the kid was lying but deciding not to press further. The sound of crying children rang way too familiar in his ears. Something something, it's happened a lot recently, something something, it hurts his head.

As the investigator picked himself up and returned his coffee to his hands, there was a knock at the front door. Almond watched the small one perk up and practically start making a dash for the door. "Kid-!" Almond would cautiously raise his voice, "Let me answer it. I don't want something to happen to you." Especially considering how this very likely wasn't even his own child... the real parents would be pissed to find out something happened to her. Though hesitant, Walnut would quietly groan in annoyance and let her caretaker take the reigns. She pressed her stuffed animal close to her chest as she watched Almond check the door's peephole and become confused. Another person he forgot about, maybe. It wouldn't be the first person this week... Heck, she lost count of how many of her mom's coworkers and friends he'd dropped contact on.

Alm would gently motion for Walnut to get out of the way, and she'd do so, though of course tried to get as good of a look as she could. And with a second coffee scent with a hint of smoke being brought into the house along with the sight of brown and white hair, she knew exactly who it was. "Cappu!!" Walnut would chirp happily, waving despite the door not even being the whole way open. The reaction nearly startled Almond. "You know this one, kid?" The detective would ask, before sighing and shaking his head. "Good afternoon, who are you and what are you doing here?" As much as Almond wanted to sound polite, he didn't care that much to be. The person at the door furrowed his brow, but didn't seem all too bothered externally. "Cappuccino. You may not know me, but we're coworkers. Kind of." A rough explanation would be enough, right? "I'm the prosecutor that most of your cases' evidence gets sent to. I know you probably don't remember that, but it's whatever." Cappuccino would reach into his black overcoat, pulling out a few containers of what appeared to be leftovers. Looks like some takeout from the local noodle restaurant. "I brought over some food for you and Walnut. I figured we could chat, have a coffee or two, and y'know... figure some things out?"

Walnut, Walnut... Oh, that's the little one's name? Seems to fit her very well. Though this Cappuccino guy wasn't someone that Almond remembered, among many others, since Walnut looked so happy to see him... So long as he kept a watchful eye, things would be fine. "Don't cause any trouble." He'd mumble, opening the door wider and sidestepping to let Cappuccino inside. On the way in, the prosecutor gave Walnut a smile, which got some of the weakest sparkling eyes he's ever seen in response. Ha... has this kid really been without anything more than cereal and sandwiches for this long? That... hurts. Guess that's what happens when a mother keeps forgetting that kid's food is being made part way through and lets it spoil or burn...

Whilst the food for the three of them was taken by Almond to prepare, Cappuccino would watch over him to make sure that he wouldn't forget what he was doing. Though it was a little irritating on the detective's end to be corrected multiple times whilst the food was being made- he swears he didn't forget most of the things that he was being reminded of, though he truly did misremember- that wasn't the main thing that Cappu was concerned about. With Walnut standing by his side, he'd set a gentle hand on her helmet and sigh. "I hope it hasn't been too rough on you, kid. Uh... how's school?" Walnut would keep the smile she'd had since Cappuccino entered the house, though there was some uncertainty behind it once questioned. "Um... It's been... okay! I think! The other kids at school make fun of me and my mom sometimes... But I make sure they know not to mess with us!!" Cap chuckled, giving a brief side-eye to Almond before responding. "Not causing any fights, are you?" There was further laughter from the prosecutor as Walnut would beat on his leg and exclaim how she'd NEVER do such a thing. "Right, right. Well, if those bullies ever try doing anything to hurt you, get your mom's phone and call me, got it? I'll sue them into the ground." It's the least he could do. Even if his job had him wrapped up in sleepless nights, there was nothing that would stop him from keeping this kid from having it anywhere near as bad as he had it.

Seeing the young one hug his leg brought a fondness to Cappu's heart. It took all of his energy in that moment not to just scoop Walnut up and hold her like she was his own kid. He'd never be a good parent, but knowing what Almond was like at this point... it was a consideration, but... "Alright you two, the food's up." Almond's voice broke the coffee-named fellow out of his thoughts. "Get to the table, I'll get plating." And, wordlessly, he'd lead a very excited Walnut to the living room to sit around the table. The kitchen was too small to eat in, after all. There'd be small 'thank you's shared as Almond would come out with two plates in hand, handing them over before heading back into the kitchen to get his own food... though it was taking longer than anticipated. The little talk that Cappu was having with Walnut about the teddy bear that she eagerly showed would come to a concerned silence as he'd wind up staring towards the kitchen. "Does he normally take this long?" He'd ask, getting a shake of the head. Walnut would furrow her brow, tilting her head. "Maybe he forgot where he was? ...again?" Cap would mumble a 'maybe', only to get startled by the sound of an agonized scream from where Almond had gone.

It was a sudden sound, one that spurred Cappuccino into action so fast that he wound up hitting his knee on the bottom of the table as he got up. "Shit-" He'd growl to himself, darting to the kitchen. "Almond! Almond are you-...?" And yet there the detective was, a softly glowing hand over his nose with a discarded bandage on the countertop next to a half-complete plate of food. That thing usually never came off, and... not to mention that glow. Healing magic? "Since when did you...?" The stare the attorney got was that of confusion and mild annoyance from the investigator. Alm would stand himself properly, giving a heavy breath. "Look, I don't know either. At least my nose doesn't feel like it's on the verge of crushing itself." Ah, his voice was so much... clearer without that bandage on. Almond would stare towards Cap, "I don't where the magic came from, don't ask me. Look let's just," There was a small grunt from the gumshoe as he properly disposed of the bandage in a nearby trash can and took to finishing his plate, though not without a pause before picking it up as if he was pondering why the plate was there in the first place. "Let's just get back to having lunch. Or dinner. Whichever one this is."

Alm would walk right past Cappuccino, who only blinked at the very faint scent of vanilla. The small voice of Walnut gave the prosecutor a small start. Ah, she followed him and he didn't even see it, huh. "Mom doesn't like using that... But he doesn't remember that, does he?" Well, that's news to him. Never had he heard about Almond being able to use any kind of magic- let alone something so helpful. As much as he'd want to ask about it, considering the look of worry that Walnut had, maybe... maybe it was best to leave that alone. For now. As much as it would nag Cappuccino for not knowing...

The attorney gave Walnut a light pat on the back, trying to ignore the pain in his knee as that started to finally catch up to him. "C'mon, Wal. You're still hungry, right?" The heaviness in Cap's chest didn't lighten one bit at the weak nod the kiddo gave. "Right. Then let's get back to that. Then you can tell me more about-" Cappu vaguely motioned to the plush that the child hadn't let go of through the entire time he'd been here. "That's their name- Ted? Yea, them." And though the thought of her mother becoming less and less like herself would weigh on Walnut's mind, she'd nod and mutter just above a whisper. "...yeah, okay."

#almond cookie #walnut cookie #cappuccino cookie #angst drabbles #self indulgent writings #ask to tag #cookie run #crob #crk #cookie run ovenbreak #cookie run kingdom #implied child neglect warning #memory loss warning

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sugarcloudsky · 9 months

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How would truffle cookie, almond, black Barry and yam react to catching reader who is part huntsman spider ripping apart cookie the third's evil dad?

decided to answer this as small blurbs instead of a full fic, hope thats okay!

no cws, i didn’t go into detail with the gore!

———

truffle cookie would be surprised at first. although not long after, she would become very excited, which startled you just a bit. then again, truffle was a very odd and eccentric cookie, who already has many pet spiders roaming about her haunted mansion. perhaps you could become friends with her little spiders as well!

almond cookie would immediately stand back, preparing for the worst in case you try to attack him. i think what happens next entirely depends on how you react: if you stand down and clearly show you don’t want to hurt him, he will approach you more gently and question you. if you become aggressive at the sight of him, he’ll hesitantly use his handcuffs on you and use as much force as he needs.

blackberry cookie would stare with an unreadable expression. it feels odd, but you’ve known blackberry to be very expressionless, even in the most dire of situations, like now, that is. she calmly walks over to you despite the obvious danger, and pulls you away into the dark mansion once more, leaving the mess behind. she’ll have to clean later, she supposes.

purple yam cookie would immediately try to pick a fight with you, not recognizing who you are at first. until he finally does, he stumbles backwards in shock, taking a moment to process what he had just seen. he’s very confused, but also very unfazed by the mess seen in front of him. instead, he just casually demands an explanation. maybe in the future he’ll try to fight you.

i hope i got characterization right lol

#sugarcloud thoughts #sugarcloud answers #cookie run x reader #almond cookie x reader #purple yam x reader #blackberry cookie x reader #truffle cookie x reader

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spencermyangel · 2 years

Note

part two plz of the abusive team one, like of the teams reaction or treatment

CW - Bullying, abuse references

Part 1

“I hope you all remember Dr. Reid,” Hotch stood next to Spencer in the conference room as the team watched on with confused expressions.

Morgan gave Spencer a one over before his eyes flashed back to Hotch, “is he consulting on a case with us?”

Hotch shook his head and looked at Spencer with a soft smile, “Spencer will be joining our team.”

They all stared at Spencer, shock and confusion on their faces. They weren’t aware Hotch was looking into getting a new member, their team had always felt complete.

“Why don’t you take a seat next to Morgan?” Hotch broke the silence. Spencer lifted his head to look at Hotch as he nodded, quickly making his way to the chair beside Morgan. Spencer shifted uncomfortably as the team stared at him, Morgan and Garcia, in particular studying him carefully. They were always cautious when a new member joined their family.

“Sorry I’m late,” Rossi said as he entered, “couldn’t find my watch,” he offered as an explanation. Rossi then caught sight of Spencer and shot him a smile, “Hi, Spencer. Are you joining our team today?” Rossi had been made aware in advance by Hotch of his plan to invite Spencer onto the team.

Spencer nervously nodded, his eyes darting around, and hands fidgeting.

“Well, don’t worry. They’ll make you feel welcome,” Rossi told him, nodding towards the other team members. Spencer nervously glanced at the team and nodded.

Spencer sat on the jet, studying his knees as he listened to JJ and Emily laugh together. Were they laughing at him? His mind was filled with the times his old team would gossip and laugh at him, making fun of him and his appearance. Spencer self-consciously curled in on himself and kept his head down.

“Hey, Reid, what do you think?” Morgan approached, suddenly placing his hand on his shoulder. Spencer, already on edge, felt as though Morgan’s touch burned him and he flinched away with a whine.

Spencer’s eyes then widened in realization at what he had done, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he frantically apologized, not able to stop himself from repeating the words.

Morgan furrowed his brow, “hey, are you okay?” he asked, moving to get a better look at Spencer. But all Spencer saw was Morgan’s hand moving closer to him, he quickly shielded himself and braced for the impact.

“Spencer?” Rossi’s voice snapped him out of his fear. He slowly lowered his arms and ashamed, turned his head away.

The team watched him with worried eyes, until Morgan cleared his throat. “What’s happening?”

Rossi carefully studied Spencer, “Spencer is it okay if we tell the team?”

Spencer hesitated, but nodded. He wanted his new team to understand.

“Spencer joined our team because his old team treated him badly,” Hotch began, “They would make fun of him, and often be physically abusive to him.”

Spencer kept his head down, trying to hold back tears as Hotch spoke. He felt someone sit beside him and snuck a glance at who it was. Morgan, the member of the team who intimidated him the most, his large muscles scaring him. Morgan could easily hurt him badly.

“Reid?” Morgan waited for Spencer to look up at him before speaking, “I promise that I and the rest of the team will never ever hurt you.”

Spencer looked up, seeing the rest of the team nodding in agreement. He then studied Morgan’s face, seeing the warmth and kindness in his eyes. Looking into Morgan’s kind eyes calmed him, “okay,” he whispered.

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#criminal minds #spencer reid #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #david rossi #spencer reid fanfiction #bau team #criminal minds fanfiction #emily prentiss #autistic spencer reid #hurt spencer reid #hurt/comfort #spencer reid angst #spencer reid whump #penelope garcia #jennifer jareau

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totaleclipse573 · 2 months

Note

Okay but so can you make (or link me to) a post going over your OCs cause i am in constant confusion whenever i see them 😭

Well, if you want more info on the more lore-heavy oc's (Terios and Doleon) to get somewhat of an idea, they each have tags! They're :

#terios lore

#doleon lore? (with the question mark lmao)

Has a bunch of stuff there on them. I'd link you to the Terios lore post from some time ago but some of the stuff on there is really incomplete/some parts are inaccurate due to that now. I'd be happy to tell you about my silly little oc's though! (And maybe a refresher in case anyone needs it)

I'm warning you. This WILL be long 😅 Mainly because of Terios. It's all part of an alt canon of mine (Oc Universe au) and I have a lot of oc's. GRAB SNACKS.

DOLEON

Starting with him, because he plays a HUGE part in Terios' lore and story

Essentially, he's the Black Doom of this au. (Fun fact : he was created because I had no idea how to draw actual Black Doom, nor had the energy to learn, so I made him a hedgehog/alien thing. Then I got to thinking and now he has his own separate lore jhsdbfbkjdb. It's a bit complicated.)

Centuries ago, he had six other brothers (who also each have their own tag, just their names) https://www.tumblr.com/totaleclipse573/739530015615664128/can-i-dump-some-lore-on-yall-real-quick-actually?source=share

This explains everything pretty well I think. Still check out the tag itself if you'd like more info! (You should probably know for later, this guy right here is the definition of "I ALWAYS COME BACK >:D")

Personality wise, he's very egotistical, has a burning hatred for humans and humanity, and is always seeking power. He tends to see himself as much more intelligent and overall better than others (even though some *cough cough Starline cough* perceive him as dumb due to not knowing much about Earth or how things work on this planet.) While sometimes impulsive, he also really knows how to put up a good battle strategy wise. As of now, he (along with Shadow, Eclipse and Terios,) are the only remaining Black Arms left. (ALSO AS OF NOW : he met Starline, WHO IS TOTALLY ALIVE AFTER ISSUE 50, and they decided to form a partnership for each others own secret benefits, planning to stab one another in the back afterwards. They never do 😭 They're just really gay 😭)

TERIOS

(Cw for child abuse)

2000+ years after the Doleon shards incident, Terios is the accidental twin to Shadow, the initial project being rather mysteriously cloned. The only real explanation found had something to do with energy. This "clone" looked a bit off, with features that pointed to the idea that it seemed to hold more Black Arms DNA (ex. long pointed tail, all sharp teeth, green blooded, clawed fingers.)

But Doleon takes notice to that little mistake in the process. He can use that to his advantage. A pact is rather forcibly made, once the now two projects are finished, Doleon is entitled to one of them to use for his own purposes. He's part of the reason they even exist. He can make things happen if he doesn't get his way. (Geraldoom divorce arc /j)

He takes the black and white-striped one (who doesn't seem to want to be away from its twin it only JUST met, annoyingly.) It seems to be the exact opposite of it's twin, who is loud and confident. It (he can't keep calling this thing an it, for Supreme's sake...his name is Terios now) should be easier for what he has planned.

So while Shadow grew on the ARK, Terios grew on the Black Comet. And uh..............it was rough. He's essentially a victim of child abuse and a hell of a lot of manipulation. Brainwashed for years.

Doleon has Terios for his future plans now, but the downside on his end is that he now actually has to "care" for this small child until he’s old enough to begin his training.

But uh. Well...

Here's something from his lore tag regarding...a certain huge part of his lore

And some art of bitty him

Terios (and Shadow) grew rather quickly (in terms of appearance.) Doleon took that as a sign of "he's old enough" and the brutal and quite frankly traumatizing training began. He would be the BEST, and this was the way to make sure of that. He could never mess up, never make a mistake, he had to be perfect. And he made sure Terios knew that too. Every mistake he made would get him clawed at. The more severe the mistake, more likely the deeper the gash. (Learn how to heal yourself with that energy...or don't, and suffer. Sometimes, if his mistake was so bad, he wouldn't even be allowed to heal with the energy.) It was always on one of his arms or on his face. More often would he get shouted at, grabbed and tossed to the ground like some kind of rag doll. The lesson he eventually had to learn?

Don't ever mess up. On anything. Expect pain and suffering otherwise.

There's also this one other little habit he was eased into...

He doesn't hate his father for these things though. He still cares deeply for him and doesn't ever wish to disappoint him, as he's been doing. Father's doing this for a good reason...! Terios would soon be passed the honor of the power the Shards of Chaos hold, he needed a lot of training and discipline to be able to handle that...!

And that's what he told himself. Every. Time.

This goes on for a few years, and he's gotten much better with his training (he pretty much had to, the injuries weren't healing fast enough.) He rarely speaks unless told to, he's terribly obedient, he's tired, he's hurting, but it doesn't matter. He's what he's supposed to be! He's finally near perfection! (Except for these weird sparks and bursts of shard energy he gets whenever he feels sad...or angry...maybe he could just drown that out?)

Then things get crazy bc Tikal is here now. LET ME EXPLAIN PLEASE-(I first made Terios' story when I was like, ten years old? XD He's a revived oc)

Short summary : In this AU, Tikal is more like a free-ranging spirit. Tikal knew Doleon and his brothers, way back then. She was a ghost and could somehow get through the strange barrier of this little area the brothers were confined to, so they became friends! Tikal, Kieran and Doleon specifically. She wasn't around for when the others were killed, but the last person she saw was Kieran once the barrier was no longer there. That wasn't the only thing that was broken.

Since she already knew Doleon and what he had done in the past, she knew he had no good intentions. While he was away from Terios, she appeared before the Darkhog, alerting and telling him of what the shards really were, and what they could do to a person. And Terios, of course, started to panic. Was he being corrupted right now? Was he ALREADY corrupted? He needed to escape. But how? There was no escape.

Luckily for Terios, Tikal’s spirit was able to transport him back to where he was created, the ARK (not without Doleon putting up a fight of course.) Unluckily, however, at the time he was transported there, the whole ARK fiasco was going on, and Maria had already sent Shadow down to Earth and stuff. Now there were only G.U.N. soldiers, and they spotted him, calling him “Project Shard," for some reason (He had a separate file. There can't be TWO Project Shadow's) So he tries to run from them, but can’t, and they catch up to him. Soon enough, they lock him up in a facility, putting him into cryostasis.

Skip about...54 (???) years (4 years after SA2) and Terios is about to be released for nothing good. And guess what.

There's a one shot for one of the parts I randomly felt like writing out one day :D

This leads up to months of subtle brainwashing (aGAIN) and being brought back to his old mentalities until Terios just HATES that one hedgehog he's never met (gee doesn't that sound a bit like another irrelevant plotline of mine-) He's fully loyal to the Black Arms and to his kind only! Finding the Shards...for Doleon...that's his destiny. That's why he exists!

And so when they finally arrive to conquer earth (and find the remaining shards,) Terios is sent out to do his job. Except he meets people. Whoops.

The first person he ever met was Rouge, out on the streets of Westopolis. She just kind of...appeared? Upside down? Flying? Apparently, she'd seen him around. The things he could do...and she'd like his assistance in a little something. She was getting in his way, he could NOT be sidetracked by some bat.

He got sidetracked by some bat. The power of Rouge everybody. (But its okay because he didn't realize it. No panic attack here.) He still found one of the Shards afterwards! She led him to it, almost...surely a coincidence. Unless she was looking for them too? For some reason? WHY WAS SHE BEING NICE TO HIM ANYWAY??? WHAT TRICKERY WAS THIS??

...Not bad, though. If his tail would stop MOVING LIKE THAT FOR AT LEAST FIVE SECONDS, THOUGH, IT WOULD BE NICER.

Going back to Doleon with the shard, he should've expected somewhat of a lecture for socializing with allies of the enemy. AND OF COURSE, he got that. He's lucky he came back with the shard...he won't be punished.

After that, Ter, being sent out to the same place as a current horde of Black Arms soldiers, runs into Tails after going astray. Lecture down the drain, somewhat. What’s his name? Why is his tail so long? Can he use it in battle? Does he have any powers? He could ask questions all day if it weren’t for Terios starting to look overwhelmed by them (which gets an apology)

All the sudden, that horde of Black Arms start raiding the area Tails and Terios are in, so Tails, knowing this as current danger, grabs Terios by the hand and tells him he knows a safe, inside place.

A more simplified summary of events that come after all this because this is getting too long already sdbjbjkacvhjj

Terios says he has to go and this happens :

(that last part will become relevant in just a bit....)

More shard hunting

Doleon is harder on Terios now that Shadow is out of the picture. He isn't STUPID, Terios, he KNOWS what you've been doing. You keep derailing. Making mistakes. You know exactly where that leads.

Terios is quite literally beaten some sense into and this is the result :

Terios soon realizes Doleon PROBABLY isn't actually trying to help him at all, and instead joines the heroes in an attempt to stop him. He's with them for a while, starts to get somewhat comfortable around them...enough so that his real self starts showing.

And it confuses most. So you mean to say, this weird looking alien hybrid thing that only first showed himself in an attempt to brutally murder Shadow, had an alliance with Doom and the Black Arms from the start, and showed nothing but pure loyalty to them, even to go so far as to declare his actions in their name for the better? He's actually just this...guy. That was really, really badly manipulated.

Look at the way he came in. Even if he wouldn't specify where all those injuries came from, he was obviously treated like garbage. Just something to be used and then thrown aside. But oddly enough, he felt safe around these people. They were supposed to be the enemy!! Just another lie. He could change!! He could be better. Not the kind of better Doleon expected him to be, the kind of better that really just felt like the right thing now.

But hoooooooooooo when Doleon finds out about this.

Terios goes back into the comet after a while of being gone, its noticeable and he's mentally beating himself up about being so stupid. It's part of the plan, though. He'll go in first, so that the others remain unnoticed. Doleon has known about everything. And, if this kid won't LISTEN, he'll just have to MAKE HIM. His mental barriers were always weak anyway...he was the one to really mold the Darkhog into that for convenience.

Um.................angst...............it naturally follows :

When the others see him walking back out again they're confused. What is he DOING?? This isn't part of what they planned at all!

Until Doleon makes himself known as well and says something like "I only took back what belongs to me! It was rightfully mine from the start..." or some other CLEARLY rage-inducing thing. It gets on Shadow's nerves specifically sooooooooo bad, the way Doleon is speaking of Terios. Doesn't matter what they do, though. Terios won't listen. He won't speak. Everything else is blocked out. He belongs here. It's where he's always belonged. He's safe now. This is all he needs. He's home again.

And if it's what the Master told him, wanted of him, he would do anything to prove his loyalty. Anything.

He's forced to fight them, and they're forced to find some kind of way to snap him out of it before he can hurt anyone. He seems to be specifically going after Shadow for the kill, though.

Once he DOES get snapped out of it, he feels IMMENSE guilt. He can see how he hurt some of them, even if it was only a little. And that hurts him

APPARENTLY DOLEON OVER HERE WAS JUST HAVING SOME FUN, BECAUSE ONLY AFTER THIS DOES HE BRING OUT THE SHARDS AND GAIN A NEW FORM ENTIRELY TO FINALLY ENACT HIS END GOAL. Luckily Shadow has the Chaos Emeralds >:D Terios, though? Still terrified, and even more so now. WHAT IS A SUPER FORM?!?!?! He might need some help...

So they have to defeat Doleon in their super forms but Terios is still very new to the concept of chaos energy and super forms and such (he's far more shard energy than chaos energy,) and there may or may not be a scene somewhat reminiscent of that one SA2 scene in my head except no one dies. HOORAY!

And after all that, Terios can finally learn to be himself with his new allies, which leads to his redemption arc!

This part of his story moreso revolves around Terios learning to break free from what had happened before, and learn to better himself with the help of others. He also needs to learn some decent self care (whether it be simple things like taking better care of his fur, or more complex things like learning to accept help with his current mental state.)

At first, he’s still a bit paranoid about everything that happened. He’s worried Doleon could somehow come back at any moment, that the Black Arms could return along with him, that he would be forcibly dragged back in again, even after his life had only just started getting better (oH the nightmare scenes.) Luckily for him, though, now he has people that can actually help with these fears, and he eventually does feel ready to try and move on. Then he feels comfortable enough to start meeting people, and interacts with more of the cast!

This is also the time where he meets Eclipse and the Dark Arms! Short summary : Terios wants to do a Steven Universe and help Eclipse the way all the others helped him. Terios just kinda randomly stumbled into him while he was out one day and got VERY much lost. Eclipse doesn't like him and his sappy “I can help you bc power of friendship!” attitude at first, but then he's able to sense Terios' connection to the hivemind. It feels a bit different than Shadow. So now he's pretty curious as to why and starts asking Terios questions. Eventually Eclipse kinda grows to like Terios, this hybrid is actually nice to him, for some reason. But then Shadow finds them. You can probably tell where that goes (It’s bad for a long while, but it eventually ends with Shadow, Eclipse and Terios all living together bc they're brothers, it’s my own little canon and I can do as I wish XD)

Some redemption arc stuff I've talked about :

Aaaaand a little something about the way he behaves, even now :

Theres one more relevant story arc for him after this, and thats the "Doom arc" I rarely talk about. So shortened version : Shards of Chaos need a new host, they literally POSSESS Terios to do so (since he already has an established connection to them,) Doleon ends up being revived by the energy anyway, due to corruption, Tikal comes back, Espio becomes a sort of mentor for Terios post-possession so he can learn how to manage his newfound unstableness, aaaaand...yeah XD Like I said, this part is more in my head than written. The possessed form is still able to be accessed, very rarely, since Ter can't control it in the slightest.

And so now he's....the way he is! He is him :D He's shy, lacking in confidence, somewhat naïve due to wanting to see the good in everyone, and rather pacifistic, a surprising trait for that of Black Arms descent. He's very sweet, but can be angered on rare occasions. And when that rare occasion happens : start running.

I also gave him a speech disorder, specifically trauma-induced stuttering. He doesn't like it since it makes him sound nervous all the time, but otherwise, he doesn't mind, barely ever notices anymore. I did a lot of research just to be able to portray it accurately (I hope)

I know this was long, but I really just wanted to be able to explain everything clearly. I have other oc's that are FAR less complex, which is most of the others, so if you want, that'll probably have to be like a part two post 😅 Hope you found my oc rambling at least somewhat interesting! (I also hope it isn't too confusing 😭)

#sonic the hedgehog #sth #sonic fandom #sonic oc #ask box #sonic au #total rambles as usual #I FEEL KINDA BAD FOR HOW LONG THIS IS DSJVHSBKDVS #check some of these tags if you're interested though! ->#terios the darkhog #doleon doom #terios lore #doleon lore?#oc universe au #if you have any other questions feel free to ask!

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rafent · 10 months

Text

◜ ₊ — 𝓡 ˚ ₊ 𝐏𝐀𝐖𝐍

cw; decapitation.

Nil liked the Hooded Man.

His unquestioning adherence to orders so long as there was a battle to be had. His creative and violent solutions that demanded no direction or to be told what to do. His enthusiasm for all those things. For a Corrupted the circumstances of his transformation even differed from most. He had let Nil come to him, not forced, only compelled, and simply accepted the offer laid before him with relish. Never mind that it was no offer at all. That Nil would have killed him regardless.

He was, in any case, his most recent pawn. One that Nil’s hand needed. Someone able to be stretched thin, traveling over the various sectors of the chessboard where the crown royals couldn't be, simultaneously the most invisible and the most visible- which was why he wore the hood. To avoid the bevy of complications at being recognized, to avoid pulling apart a white spider's delicate web, so patiently exacted over years—

And for all that, Nil didn't even remember his name. Only that he’d been a prince once. Only that he was useful. Or perhaps it didn’t matter anymore; the lives that his Corrupted lived, when all of them served their best uses dead.

“You’ve returned with news of success, I hope. I've been waiting a long time for this,” he said softly without turning, knowing there would be nothing to see so much as hear from the obscured, hooded prince. Suspecting it. But the occasion was marked with surprise- instead of a report, a burlap sack dropped wordlessly at his feet without explanation.

Silence. Nil cocked his head, still imbued with an air of innocence, though his confusion was real.

“What's this?”

Wordless, again. It wasn't often that the talkative Corrupted feigned silence, or deigned a lack of response to his master. Some haunting note of importance accompanied this decision. Curiosity compelled the Fell Dragon prince at last to bend down, to untie the cord and peer inside upon a scene of. . .of—

He covered his face with one hand, obscuring an unknown expression. His shoulders trembled, beneath the skinny jut of his collarbone his chest heaved with scarcely contained emotion. Even the weak and spindly body doubled over at the waist in agony. It was almost as if he were crying until—

a giggle.

—no, it was laughter.

“Kaha..”

Unremitting, truly genuine laughter.

“Hahahaha!”

Years—centuries—over a millennia's worth of desire led to the sound. A harsh and gleeful peal; that high-pitched throttle only once exhausted of all fuel faded to a dying note. A driblet of saliva that he wiped away on the backside of his hand.

“. . .Hah.” Light-headed, Nil steadied.

Then he straightened. Like something within him had snapped back into place. Or simply, just, snapped. His kind eyes twisted into fragments of bloodied ice as he reached deep into the sack to surface the singular item that composed its contents- a decapitated head lifted from the depths into the light. Into the range of his hatred, his yearning, and his goal.

“What a sorry fool. Did you think you could run? Did you think I would not find you? Every speck of dirt belonging to this world lies within my web.”

With this final foxhunt, there was no more of them that remained. Brothers and sisters flushed out from the hinterlands of Gradlon by the Emblem bracelets. Worn on the bodies of his Corrupted, a roused-awake Emblem emitted the smell of honey- a 'revived' father's power- attracting the surviving children of Sombron like bees, leading them into ambush and annihilation. And yet—

“You called me a failure and yet look who it is that remains standing!" The mass of flesh was thrown squarely onto the ground, smashed viciously against it beneath the sole of his boot. That sole rubbed and smeared and ground any surface that it could. "None of our brothers and sisters remain. I am Father’s sole heir—me!!”

A smear lead to one stomp, then another. Then another. Another after that.

It was only when there was nothing to recognize- nothing more of a scornful expression and face to remember- that he stopped. Only then was it enough. Panting, he rose to his full height, faced with the smirking lower face of his pawn who even then didn't say a word.

“What. You’re still here?” He gave an ugly scowl, but there was no venom and no distaste in the observation. No; Rafal was in too good of a mood. One chapter closed by Rafal’s machinations, and countless others soon to begin. His tenor dropped to the pit of his chest. Deep and inky and honest.

His hand wiped on the Hooded Man's chest as he moved past.

“Clean this mess up. I have no need for it any longer—but keep close to the vicinity of Lythos Castle. Do not be caught. Should a new Divine One step foot into this world, you will know what to do.”

And he left quickly. It was too long a time to be away from Nel’s side. Sweet Nil would never stray for long from his precious older sister or the protective enclave of the castle. Not even for 'a breath of fresh air'. Rafal made his way back to it from the grassy outskirts, his eyes wavering with anticipation. A ribbon soon to be cut, paving the way to the Divine One’s gift- whether willingness was a factor or not.

All would go according to plan.

Because Rafal’s pawns moved as he willed them to.

#◜ ₊ — 𝓡 ˚ ₊ 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ╱ drabble.#engage spoilers #pre xenologue drabble with a placement close to chapter one #the recently translated nintendo life interview made me really reassess the depth of his war crimes #if we're talking masterminds the off screen rafal/nil is more terrifying than sombron #patiently exacting assassinations from the shadows and raiding kingdoms under the smokescreen of his growing corrupted #did i mention he culled his own siblings off screen #another note: an isolation of the hooded corrupted (fogado) as nil's most uniquely appearing pawn throughout the dlc #fogado's versus dialogue against alear interestingly implies that he's not only one of rafal's most recent corrupted but one who consented #god. rafal (clutches my head)

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mesanthropi · 8 months

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BAD KARMA! drabble: codax and the airheads (and a close call) cws: cursing, (empty) threats of violence

"well, you can't see the director right now, because they're at school."

equinox needed to process that for a moment, codax's words echoing inside his unfortunately empty brain. he'd blink if he could, but lacking eyes and eyelids, he couldn't. and so, his disbelief had to be expressed in a different way; taking ahold of the archivist's shoulders and shaking them back and forth. violently.

"i ought to dye your jacket crimson, you gelid class virus!" the torrid class redhead shrieked with frustration, albeit his confusion. "there ain't nothin' called school! you tossed 'em in a freezer, didn't you? you'll be chatterin' yer teeth once i'm through with you, ya little-" he was interrupted by a yellow hand tapping his shoulder, prompting him to also stop shaking poor codax. "what?"

bebe cleared her throat, before taking her hand back. "i read this in a little book i found in the library, but school is an older term for an LHA! kids hated school during the zero era," she explained. "i think codax said school 'cuz the director's from earth zero!"

the taller male stopped to think about what she'd just told him, jaw slowly unclenching as his hold loosened too. "... wait, but that don't make a lotta sense. if the director's doddlin' in an LHA..." he turned back to the cyan-clad archivist. "how're they a director who's tellin' us to come 'nd go for some planet investigation?"

codax had his fingers rubbing circles into his temples, a bit miffed by this inconvenience. "they wanted to continue normal education, according to ebony and sylvester, but not the kind of 'normal' that we're used to. they specifically requested to follow the schooling and education system of earth zero, but have it adjusted so that it would fit their needs." his explanation was followed by a minute of silence, before a snort broke through it.

"ehehe, those are a lotta million dollar words there, cody!" bebe giggled, hiding behind equinox in case the other would grab at her. the aforementioned torrid class groaned though, unsatisfied. "but that'd mean that they're not at an age to be director! maybe yer lyin' t'me and they're actually isolated in pearl!"

but when equinox heard footsteps after the last word, it was actually the shorter man walking away with a deadpan and hands in his pockets.

"too much social interaction today. bye."

equinox will remember that.

"HEY. YOU FUCKIN' ICE CUBE, THAT MEANS THEY'RE PROBABLY ARE IN PEARL, I'LL KILL YA AND YER JACKET'LL BE MINE-"

BAD KARMA! glossary gelid class : residents colored and sorted into greens, blues, and purples. torrid class : residents colored and sorted into reds, oranges, and yellows. zero era / earth zero : 1 BC - 202X (unknown fourth digit) LHA : Learning Hub (for) All, the earth five equivalent of school. pearl : not to be confused with the valorant map or the gemstone, pearl is a location on earth five which houses the director and their court. like the white house ig, but it… looks more like a house.

#selenicives.chr ✶#moonlit tracts ✶#BAD KARMA! 🌈#not requested #deadstar #<<< because i literally don't know why i wrote this #half-forced myself half-wanted to #equinox #bebe #codax #ocs #oc writing

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esoteric-mantra-stuff · 1 year

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Sisyphus and Tantalus (A sickly Icebound Return)

CW: Brief mentions of parental death and childhood trauma. This is what the story is about. Also Caelid warning if the whole area makes you uncomfy.

Hello everyone. Sorry if it's a bit late, but I wanted to get this chapter done soon. This one came to over 6 pages so it's a bit heftier than the last few. If all goes well there should be about 3 - 4 more chapters of story before we reach the finale.

As with last time, I welcome all music suggestions for this chapter.

Theme for a train in Medía

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

Caelid isn’t the prettiest place in the Lands Between. Perhaps before the shattering war left the land tainted with the Scarlet Rot, it would have been at least on the same level as Limgrave. Now with all the toxic mushrooms sprouting at every corner and the constant threat of death by big-headed crows and dogs, it is impossible to imagine someone living comfortably here. Yet this Gurranq fellow decided to settle somewhere past Dragonbarrow in a place known as the Bestial Sanctum. Could he not have picked somewhere a little… uh, not past the biggest threat to the Lands Between? At least a waygate that could leave you closer to the sanctum would be nice. Of course, you couldn’t even bring your horses through this area without risking them getting sick. No, you would have to walk. Still, you know the rules by heart when traveling through here: No touching any water that looks red, no breathing in the spores of the mushrooms, bring enough Preserving Boluses for twice the number of people in your party, and avoid any wildlife at all costs.

You make lively conversation as you walk through the wasteland. At some point, the topic of transportation comes up. “If only this land wasn’t so dangerous, a railway from here to Limgrave would be perfect.” Lobo says, pointing from here to the barely visible silhouette of Stormveil Castle in the distance. “The round trip would take less than an afternoon, and we could get back home in time for dinner… Er, if we did not have the Sites of Grace, that is.” You frown, not really understanding what he’s saying. What on earth is a railway? Noticing your confusion, your companion furrows his brow, one ear twitching unconsciously. His ears prick up, his eyes open wide, and he lets out a small “Ah!” once he realizes that such things do not exist in the lands between. “My apologies, friend. I didn’t realize you wouldn’t know what that is.” He scratches the back of his head and his ears lower. You laugh. He’s so cute when he’s apologetic. “Don’t worry about me. I take it it’s a thing from the Republic?”

Lobo nods then returns his gaze to the road. ”Indeed. Back home, someone discovered that you can use a sorcerer’s flame as a fuelless energy source by heating up water to make steam. This steam is then used to move a piece known as a piston, turning the high pressure into mechanical force. Are you following?” You nod. In truth, you are a little curious how a bit of water and fire could produce such an effect. You have seen pot lids be lifted by the steam when heating up water, so it would seem likely that a piston would be akin to the pot lid in this case. Lobo excitedly continues his explanation. It would seem that the Quarter-Wolf is a big fan of the technology. “The railway is simply a larger version of that piston set upon rails. The engine has a set of cars attached so cargo or people can ride. Most people I know take the train whenever they travel to the capital nowadays. As I mentioned, it wouldn’t take us longer than an afternoon to reach Dragonbarrow and return.” You try to picture what he’s describing. Noblewomen ride opulent carriages, while peasants like you at most get to ride in a cart filled with hay. Yet in Medía, everyone has access to such a fast method of transport? “To think something like that could be done with something as simple as water vapor. I suppose it makes sense that I wouldn’t know about them. The Lands Between have been this way since… well since I can remember. No one really comes here other than the occasional Tarnished from the Badlands. They’ve probably been this way since the Shattering War.” You say while a strange feeling of wistfulness settles in your chest. You’ve lost track of the days you’ve spent wandering this place, not living, just surviving. You’ve grown so familiar with the bleak landscapes of the Lands Between that it would have never occurred to you that places just beyond the fog could be so wonderful. Perhaps you were once a part of that world, but…

“Hey… Are you okay?” Lobo’s voice startles you as you both stop in the middle of the road. You turn to look at him, and the concern is apparent on his face. Your emotions must have been showing in your expression. You try to brush the feelings off. “I’m alright. Please don’t worry about me.” You say, but Lobo doesn’t let you off the hook that easily. “Well… you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but you’ve been here helping me deal with my problems since we met. I… well, I would like to do the same for you… If you’d let me.”

You stare at him, his brow is furrowed, and his ears are pinned to the back of his head. Despite his hesitation, he doesn’t break the eye contact between you. You bite your lip. Maybe you’ve been using Lobo’s problems to avoid thinking about yours. You’ve only recently started thinking about the past. It’s because of everything that happened with the Princess and Lobo’s father. You’re afraid that perhaps you shouldn’t dig up memories in case they’ve been forgotten for a reason. If there remained anyone out there who cared for you, wouldn’t they have searched for you after you left? You grab Lobo’s hand, and his fur feels soft on your fingers. You take a deep breath.

“Alright… I guess I’ve just been thinking about my past lately… I don’t know anything about myself. I don’t remember life before coming to the Lands Between. I must have come here for the Elden Ring, as all Tarnished do, but what I left behind to pursue it is a mystery. Did I… have a reason to forget?” Your grip on his hand tightens, and you look away, gazing at the crimson skies. “... It’s scary… I’m scared of never knowing, but in some way, I’m also scared to know the truth… Sorry, this must sound like nonsense.”

You flinch as his cold nose touches your head. Silently, you are pulled into his embrace. The cool touch of his armor feels at odds with the tenderness of his fur making contact with your head. The softness of his voice when he speaks. “It’s not nonsense, friend. I understand. While I don’t have the answers you’re looking for, I… Well, I want to help you find them… If you would let me.” You stare into his eyes, the red sky contrasting heavily with the cool blue of his irises. “Just remember that you’ll always have a place to belong… w-with me.” He looks a little flustered. Perhaps he realized the intimacy of your current situation. You don’t mean to do it, but the moment feels right. You mean to thank him for his support or something along those lines. Later you will claim something came over you, and he will laugh at your poor attempts to disguise your brazenness. You reach out and plant a sweet kiss on his muzzle.

As it turns out, kissing a wolf differs significantly from kissing a human. Lobo’s mouth is long, and his lips are not very pronounced. Instead, you feel a slight brush of fang and tongue, which thrills you in a way you don’t feel ready to explore. You should not be forcing your feelings onto him like this. But on the other hand, Lobo isn’t pushing you away; if anything, he’s pulling you towards him. If Lobo is uncomfortable with your advances, then the wagging of his tail is lying. You’re not sure how long the kiss lasts. Standing anywhere in Caelid for too long is asking for trouble. Eventually, you pull away from him, and the air between you feels slightly awkward. “I- um…” You really want to say something, but nothing intelligent seems to come out. Lobo bashfully looks away from you, his left ear twitching (one of his nervous ticks, as you’ve come to learn). “Had I known you felt that way… Perhaps I would have said something sooner.” Your face is burning, so you cover it with your hands. What an embarrassing lack of control! You took the plunge and admitted your feelings for him way too early; now look at the mess you’ve made. Your heart races. Is it because you hope he will accept your feelings or because you fear the incoming rejection?

“Hey…” Lobo pulls your hand away from your face, forcing you to make eye contact. You’re too unfocused and embarrassed to read his expression, but he doesn’t seem upset. “We can… sort this out later… would that be fine with you?” You nod, and he holds your hand tightly. Unfortunately, he’s right; this isn’t the time or place to discuss the nature of your relationship after what you did. The path to the Bestial Sanctum is long, and you’re losing daylight. You’ll have to deal with the mess of your emotions back home.

The two of you walk in silence, now the platonic side of your relationship left somewhere in the red dust of the Caelid wasteland. When the conversation doesn’t pick back up, Lobo chimes in nonchalantly as if you two weren’t sucking faces less than two minutes ago. “I actually had a story I wanted to tell you before we got… uh, sidetracked. Would you like to hear it now?” You nod again, not trusting your voice enough to say anything without sounding pathetic.

Lobo dramatically clears his throat, something you suspect is to help the tension between you dissipate. “Back home, my siblings and I would ride the train from the station in our hometown of Puerto Fernandez. On the way to the capital of Torrebruma, we’d always pool all our money to buy sweets from the trolley lady. Val- I mean, Briar’s favorite was always the candied apples, and Viola loved the marshmallows they sold in a big bag. I always got the honey-flavored sweets, even if they often made fun of me for eating so many.” Lobo laughs, and you can almost relax at the image of three little pups stuffing themselves with candy. “The trip is pretty long, so we would spend the afternoon chatting or playing card games. We didn’t get many chances to wind down at the workhouse; that’s why it was so fun to get an entire afternoon in each other’s company instead of being forced to work all day.“ Lobo continues telling you about all the fond memories of their childhood he has. Like when Briar ate a piece of chocolate on a dare from their sister, he immediately had to run to the bathroom like his tail was on fire, or when Viola and Lobo would sing together until one of the attendants told them to stop being so loud (You’re not surprised. Despite whispering all the time, you know firsthand that Lobo’s voice is thunderous when he speaks up). Your misgivings are forgiven momentarily, and things are back to normal. Of course, you’ll have to deal with this eventually, but no matter your relationship's name or where your quest for the truth will take you, Lobo will not abandon you. Of that, you’re sure.

—--------------------------------------------

Past a great bridge, guarded by a valiant gargoyle and vulgar militia, lies the Bestial Sanctum. Despite their tiny size, the militia puts up quite a fight. Once you’ve killed all of them, the gargoyle is next. All its swooping and the twisting of its twinblades is enough to make you dizzy; however, it falls the same as the rest. Lobo touches the ground before leaping on top of it, severing the gargoyle’s throat with a circular strike before landing on all fours. As its body fades, you both stand in front of the large gates that guard the sanctum.

“So… this is where Ranni wanted us to go, huh? Do you know anything about this… Gurranq, was it?” Lobo frowns, looking up at the massive doors. “It’s Gurranq, not Gurranq; you don’t make the hard r noise.” You correct him. “And, other than the fact that he will reward us if we feed him the root, I don’t know anything.” He frowns, nose twitching as he takes in the scent of the entrance. “It smells… yes, like an animal, but not quite. You don’t think….” He’s on edge, ears forward and tail lashing. You can guess what he’s about to say. “A shadow.” He turns to look at you when the words leave your mouth. You try to remember every piece of information you’ve gathered in this hellhole.

“It’s possible… but I’m unsure who’s shadow. There aren’t that many Empyreans in the Lands Between… Ranni the witch, Malenia, and Miquella the Unnalloyed. There are reasons why it can’t be any of theirs….” He glares at the door as if staring at it hard enough would give him the answers. “This can’t be a coincidence. That witch sent us here with a plan in mind, and I don’t like it one bit. She has everything she needs to get out of here, so why does she need us to feed this Gurranq guy? What good will that do?” While you can’t deny the Princess’ motives were a mystery to you, your conversation at the academy felt genuine, at least. Perhaps it’s just a feeling, but you don’t think that this visit is meant to be malicious. “I don’t know… but I can tell you that Ranni is not as heartless as you think. It’s possible that she simply wishes to see him fed.” Lobo is still skeptical but he looks at you, and a smile forms on his muzzle.

“Right, I guess you have a better eye for people’s feelings than I do… I just- Well, I just wish she’d leave us alone. Even if she regrets what she did to Father, I haven’t forgiven her, and it doesn’t erase all the pain she’s caused. If what you told me is true, then the Shattering and the spread of Those Who Live In Death is also her fault.” The smile vanishes, and he puts both hands on the door. “Just because you’re sorry, it doesn’t make you less guilty.” You hear him mutter, and you’re unsure whether you’re talking about the same person anymore.

—-------------------

“... Death… I smell it… feed it me….” Gurranq says as you approach him. As expected, he is a giant beast covered in cloth. Lobo may be tall for a human, but Gurranq is tall even by Shadow standards. Lobo’s father would have looked downright puny compared to him. Your companion’s fur stands on end, and you both avoid making any sudden movements.

Quickly you fetch the foul-smelling root from your bag and offer it to the clergyman, who desperately eats it from your hand. “Ow!” You yelp as one of his fangs accidentally pricks one of your fingers. Lobo growls at Gurranq, his own fangs bared. “Hey! Control yourself, or you can forget about us helping again!” Although the quarter-wolf posed little threat to him, Gurranq bowed his head in shame. “My apologies… it was not my intent to hurt thee… please, bring more Death… I shall grant thee….” Then, from within his robe, he pulls a small talisman adorned with a claw mark and an inhuman eyeball. “... eye and claw. Feed me… more.” You take the seal and the eye, noticing how you can feel Gurranq’s gaze upon the wound beneath the cloth. Is that sorrow you feel?

There are so many questions you want to ask him, like who his master is? Or why would they be so cruel to leave him here to hunger for Death alone? What is his connection to the Princess? But as he is now, broken and desperate, you doubt he will grant anything coherent. You share a knowing gaze with Lobo, and he reluctantly nods to you. “We will bring you more of this root if we find it.” So you tell him, and he seems relieved even if his hunger is not sated. “I thank thee… please, feed me more… Death….” You’re about to turn to leave, but the booming sound of Lobo’s voice echoes in the room. “Who put you up to this?” The quarter-wolf asks, crossing his arms. It’s strange to hear him talk in his regular voice; its natural volume is why he always whispers, after all. Both you and Gurranq jump a little at the sudden noise. You stare at Lobo as disapprovingly as you can. The clergyman isn’t in a healthy state of mind; pressuring him might cause him harm. Lobo ignores you; his piercing gaze burns a hole in Gurranq’s cloth. “I know what you are… I know you have something to do with her. So why are you here, suffering on your own? Where is your master?”

The clergyman bows his head once more, clutching it with his claws. “M-My sin… I must not forget… Why…? Aghhh!” Gurranq seems to be in pain, but Lobo is relentless. “Answer me! Just who are you!” He yells, the sound drowning out the shout of pain Gurranq lets out. You pull Lobo away, pushing him to leave. “Stop that! Can’t you see he’s not well!” Your shouts feel quiet compared to Lobo’s voice, but they reverberate through the sanctum before it quiets down. Lobo stares at you, surprised at your outburst, before looking down in shame. “I’ll… I’ll wait outside… sorry.” He exits, his steps tumbling more than usual as he leaves. You feel a little guilty, but you couldn’t in good conscience let him pressure someone so unstable. ”... A vessel… just like me…” Gurranq says from behind you. “... I felt it… for just a moment….” You look him over; he seems fine despite his previous reaction. “What did you feel?” You ask gently. You don’t expect an answer, so hearing the pain in his voice surprises you.

“Kinship… That is what I felt.”

—--------------------------------

Outside, the night is cold. You can’t see the stars in Caelid, so the sky is tainted dark red, and the moon barely peeks from behind. You spot Lobo sitting on the stairs, looking up at the sky. You sit next to him with a quiet “Hey.” He responds with a quieter “Hey.” For a moment, you both stare into the night. The silence isn’t tense per se, but neither of you wants to speak about what happened inside the sanctum. You’re unsure whether you should speak up or wait for him to be ready. You’re not mad; you just don’t understand why he blew up at Gurranq the way he did. The night passes as you both sit side by side. Eventually, Lobo speaks up.

“I’m sorry….” He says, his ears pinned to the back of his head. “It’s not me you have to apologize to.” You tilt your head back towards the sanctum, and he winces. “Yes… I should, shouldn’t I? Still, I’m sorry for putting you in that situation.” You put a hand on his back; beneath the armor, you could feel him shudder. “Don’t worry. I just want to know why you got so upset? I understand you don’t trust him, but he didn’t do anything. Was it… because he hurt me?” He sighs, looking down at the long staircase. “No, it doesn’t have anything to do with Gurranq. It’s about me….” Your hand drifts to his arm; you grab it and lean your head on his shoulder. He looks at you, and a small smile forms on the corner of his mouth and disappears.

Silly wolf, acting like you’re not used to listening to his problems. His gaze drifts towards the scorched land. “I… I hated looking at him… Gurranq, I mean. I just couldn’t imagine someone could be so cruel as to force a creature made to be loyal above else and discard them like that. It reminded me too much of Father and why I can’t forgive her, no matter how much he may have wanted that….” You see him swallow a lump in his throat. “... So stupid, isn’t it? I’m getting so upset over the life of a man whose last wishes I can’t fulfill. I know… it’s probably the right thing to do, for everyone’s sake.” He looks back at you, looking like a lost pup. “But… if I forgive her… Will I just continue to blame someone else? First, I blamed him, then Ranni, then….” He trails off, staring back into the sky. “I’m still running… from that peaceful life I could have had… I’m just afraid that the sickly feeling her death left me with, I’m going to have to swallow it and accept that there’s nothing I can do to make it right.” You spot tears glimmering in the faint moonlight. You hug him tighter as he cries. There will come a time when he will apologize to the shadow in the sanctum; when his cryptic words will make sense; when that golden needle will reappear, but for now, you hold him.

You hold him tight, and you don’t let go.

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