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bbbexe · 1 year

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MINORS DNI

I can't draw digital to save my life, so I made my monster!Poppet oc Kalix, traditional. (I have been diagnosed with Vinnel brainrot, there sadly is no cure. Also I didn’t make this species, its heavily based off of a creature from game I used to play called a Kivarok) Their main fur color is black, with the shaded in parts being a really really dark purple. Their horns and claws are orange with a yellow gradient at the top/end. Similarly, their diamond patterns are orange, and get more yellow that further they are away from their torso. They have 7 white eyes on each side (on the front view i forgot to add one pair you did not see that, nothing is wrong :'))) ) that they can close individually. Will usually close all but their two main ones to not look 'weird' or have people feel like they're staring at them. Kalix's eyes also don't usually have pupils, but they consciously make pupils so that, along with their exaggerated body language/movement, speech, and gesticulation, their emotions can be read more easily while masking in public. Pupils are orange. The first three diamond patterns on Sir are eyes, one being a light yellow color, and the others becoming white. Their eyes / horns / patterns / claws have a slight glow. Has four arms in total. (maybe one day i'll have the urge to try and draw on ibis paint) Kalix's blood is orange :). They also have a mouth on their main head, but really really don't want to scare people they want to be friends with, and keeps it closed and hidden for the most part. They are 6'0 because I wish I was tall :').

I've been completely obsessed with @eldritch-spouse's universe for the past few days and just had to make this. I love love love her writing and really suggest you check out her blog if you like yanderes and monsters >:D Under the cut is some of my oc's info if anyone is interested :D (it's a lot of rambling lol)

Tw mentions of cannibalism and other illegal stuff.

“Nothing can last forever. There isn't any memory, no matter how intense, that doesn't fade out at last.” ― Juan Rulfo This is Kalix! (Named them this purely because the word makes my brain happy) They are a young adult monster, who suffers from loneliness brain damage! With symptoms that are very similar to ADHD. They forget what day of the week it is often, forget words mid conversation, and have a shit short term memory. Often forgets to eat and has a habit of not eating until their tail-head starts to nip/chew (omnomnom) at them. Will constantly loose things, even if they are currently holding said thing in their paw. Brings noise cancelling earbuds around and wears gloves because they are touch averse. Usually has one part of their body moving, leg bopping, playing with their fingers, etc. (heavily projecting here lol, they just like me fr) Are a residual hermaphrodite who flip flops between sex depending on temperature/season (has a slit covered by their fluff) and goes by all pronouns. Demi ace/aro (hahaha slowburn + oblivious to their own feelings, have fun with that Vinnel). Has a hard time understanding sarcasm and understanding their own feelings.

Kalix's tail has been named "Sir" as they thought the word was cool. They usually eat / drink using their head-tail. Sir is Kalix's subconscious/lizard brain, though they don't seem to realize that themself, thinking the tail-head as more of a sibling/pet. (and example for the subconcious/lizard brain thing being, Kalix stubbing their toe, wincing and making a joke, Sir whimpering and getting teary like the crybaby they secretly are) They can consciously control Sir for about 30 minutes before a headache starts cracking open their skull (usually their species would be able to do this all the time, but shhh don't tell the poor child, they'll cry). While talking through Sir, Kalix can mimic many many sounds / voices. It would honestly be easier to list what they can't mimic than what they can. They do have a tell though, as when they speak through Sir, they have a slight whisper echo. Also sadly because of brain injury, they can't cut off Sir's senses from their own. Wagging their tail super fast like a dog when excited / to stim will leave make them super dizzy. Sir also has a taste for human/monster flesh :))) Has some other abilities, like being able to store stuff in their shadow (they do this more often and don't get nauseous from it unless they try to fit a bigger object inside. Kalix usually makes it look like they're pulling stuff out from their chest fluff becuse i thought that would be silly), make shadow apparitions for a limited amount of time, wrap themselves in shadows to hide or stalk their 'prey', and if they really push themself, they can teleport through shadows (within a certain range etc.) at most two times a week. They feel nauseous and get headaches after this, and using their power too often/long or trying to store large objects will make them violently ill. (won't stop the dumbass from overusing their abilities to pull pranks on The Clergymen though) Has little physical strength (for a monster at least), although they can jump pretty high when spooked (hehe get it? halloween pun :> also foreshadowing~) Speaking of Halloween, it's one of Kalix's main hyperfixations. Their hyperfixations include: Halloween, (and by extension) candy making, horror book reading, driving (although ironically if Kalix is a passenger they get extremely car sick), juggling (picks this up after they see Vinnel do it and realize 1. its a fun way to stim and 2. they have four arms. they are terrible at first), baking (which is kinda funny cuz they cannot cook for shit), insect related stuff, (piss poor) sewing, and drawing (they usually like to draw stuff with the combination of gore and plants).

Always has candy corn on them (or it seems that way, it’s just in their shadow. Kalix likes how it looks like they can just summon candy corn out of nowhere).

Also do not let them drive. They will turn it into a car chase. Somehow. (They just like slamming into the cars chasing them and showing off their drifts and sharp turns) They work as a party planner / decorator and will practically beg on their knees to Admin to help decorate for the holidays, especially Halloween. (Admin will have to wrangle them during other holidays to make sure Kalix doesn’t start making them Halloween themed as well...

”Decorate your own apartment Easterween themed, Kalix...” cue Admin’s signature tired eye roll as Kalix gives the smaller human puppy dog eyes) After they learn The Clergy has rent able rooms, they'll definitely start living there. Kalix's room will be completely Halloween themed all year long. They'll also ask Admin if they can help out around the Clergy / help them (Kalix feels bad for Admin and all their responsibilities, but also thinks they're amazing for being so focused and hard working)

Kalix is a complete virgin, having not even touched themself because again, they see Sir as a ‘pet’ or sibling sort of, only that Sir is attached to them. Kalix always chalks up Sir’s similar reactions to them as both them and Sir having grown up together.(if this sentence makes sense? basically they chalk up Sir having similar reactions to how they feel inside to just them growing up being attached to each other) Also them denying full heartedly that they are a crybaby and that they like the taste of human/monster flesh. To be honest, after a few months of being around Kalix, The Clergymen will probably pick up on Sir being more connected to Kalix than the oblivious lizard (idk why but my nickname for them is lizard despite them looking like some lizard/cat/owl/spider mix. it just fits. also all the picures of cute dumb little geckos connect with Kalix in my mind) realizes. Although Kalix sure as hell won’t realize themself, and won’t have any kind of sexual interaction with anyone while under the impression that Sir is a pet. Someone’s gonna have the explain the them eventually or Vinnel might somehow go even more insane. (is a sadist masochist switch with a gore kink, though it'll take alot for them to admit it (or it would have if not for Kalix's first meeting with Grimbly and realizing they did not want to be a daddy/mommy/partner to the little dude, just a friend) Oh, and before i forget. Kalix unironically eats the most burned, charred, barely edible, can-barely-be-considered-food stuff. Completely unscathed. And they like it. They will eat coal (burning or not) in front of people occasionally to see their confused/grossed out/horrified reactions / to assert dominance. They're Vinnel's poppet for a reason :))))

They lived most of their life alone and when they were gracefully given a year long vacation by their warden, Kalix decided to try and make friends by integrating themself into human society. (Most others where they live avoid them/are afraid of them or occasionally someone will pity them but Kalix really dislikes that and would rather be ignored.) They stumbled upon The Clergy's Eye while stuck in a daydream / thought loop of how they were going to make friends. Going over the persona they had crafted (aka how they were going to mask the anxious, lonely, self conscious, and quiet crybaby they really are) and generally practicing conversations in their head. They were trying to go to the town's most popular bar, but ended up walking into The Clergy's Main floor / bar area (if im not mistaken). Kalix is just about able to handle being around Santi’s / and others pheromones due to years of exposure therapy (not a demon of my sort, will make sense in next post i prommy). (Ima make another post about how they met the TCE staff for the first time because this is hella long, thank you so much for reading if you made it this far. I hope you enjoyed my super self indulgent skrunkly child. I also left some stuff out that I really want to show via my writing later on :D)

#tw cannibalism #Kalix oc #my ocs #rambling #eldritch spouse #also sorry if I wrote anything ooc D:#I keep going back to add things I forgot #oh my god my poor brain

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matchadobo · 29 days

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TBoTE - #1.1 LOGUETOWN

warning/s: light gore

wc: 2963

intro w/ chapter list

Can ye no hush yer weepin'?

A' the wee lambs are sleepin'.

Birdies are nestin', nestin' the gether,

Dream Angus is hirpin' O'er the Heather

Year 3001, zombies have plagued the stretch of the planet humans used to call home. Sleepless nights sung by the snarls of the insatiable undead. Roads painted with ravened blood and rotting guts. Oceans polluted with corpses and hordes of infected humans and animals.

Dreams tae sell, fine dreams tae sell,

Angus is here wi' dreams tae sell.

Hush noo my bairnie, and sleep without fear,

Dream Angus will bring you a dream, my dear.

It had been three months since the outbreak, the first months were the fastest decline in the human population ever since the second world war. As of now, 40% of humanity had miraculously survived. The virus was a parasite that swiftly proliferated across the globe, one bite and it would all be over. The infected transformed into an absurdly starved creature with cloudy eyes and moldy skin, almost rotting. Devoid of any sentience, most of the infected maintained an appearance similar to their human ones except from the beings that transgressed into an unfathomable ferocity that wreaked havoc tenfold of hordes, or the Aberrants.

Hark noo the curlews cryin'-o

Faint the echoes dyin'-o.

A' the wee birds are noo lyin' sleepin',

But my bonnie bairnie's weepin', weepin'.

The Aberrants are the infected that transgressed mindlessness and have returned to their sentient form with a burning need to terrorize and persecute the human race. A true form of absolute danger with varying appearances and omnipotent abilities. One would shiver and opt to stay the absolute fuck away from these lifeforms of evil, but not Yviskos.

The lullaby faintly resounded from a lone music box in an abandoned store Yvi was just passing by. She did a double take and walked a few steps back to observe the spinning ballerina in a small, pink music box adorned with ribbons. It wasn’t too loud to attract the undead nor was it too quiet to be unheard.

The moon was bright and mystical, dark clouds were sparsely passing by the gleam of the celestial body. Crows were rancorous but the silence of the fearsome night was evident. The roads were damp from the previous pour and the petrichor was pungent, an effective tool to mask one’s scent. The interruption of the soft jingles of the music box was akin to the single drop on a window of the shop, cascading sadly.

It wasn’t long before her attention was nicked by an unknown yet fearsome shriek. A noise of terror shattered the glass of the store beside here and the cars that surrounded the vicinity. It was of a woman’s and it was not melodious, it was nothing but an object of fright.

Yvi noticed a bizarre event unfolding before her, the infected in her perimeter had stopped right in their tracks for a moment before swiftly running towards a certain direction in the south of her position. Some of them have even walked past her in an odd manner, as if the ear-splitting yell was calling out to them.

Now, Yvi was no infected but she HAD to follow them, it’s more of a need than a want in her concerning case. So she carried her feet lightly and ran at the focal point of the scream where it sounded the clearest.

There stood at the center of it all was a deviant-looking creature, inhuman and powerful. It manifested the appearance of a woman despite its inhuman nature, its red eyes were glowing and its mouth full of spiky teeth were widely open as it bellowed out a scream Yvi could clearly hear amidst her earplugs.

It was akin to a creature familiar to Yvi, a similar if not the same being that mirrored the shrieking the Aberrant was doing several feet away from her. It was the Banshee. Similar in a way that brings death upon sight; as the bodies that were still evident to be alive not too long ago from their normal complexion and clean clothes now lie before the creature even in the absence of zombies. Not until a massive horde colonized the highway, Yvi had to enter a building to hide.

She entered the building with much caution and less fright. Amid her eccentric nature brought by genuine curiosity, Yvi was a smart fighter due to the fact that she had to fend for herself for the entirety of the plague. Unfortunately, she was the only survivor out of her colleagues back in the lab.

It was an establishment that seemed to be a rundown convenience store judging from the blinking lights of the refrigerators in the far back. Most of the shelves were empty and what was left were women’s hygiene and diapers. This place had been ransacked clean of the food and beverages.

Yvi was meticulously inspecting the shelves in hopes of finding anything useful to help her on her journey. She was interrupted by the shuffling of soles on the dark, far corner where a closet room was settled. Yvi opted to leave it alone and move to the next building as it may be an infected and she wouldn’t risk making a ruckus with a horde a couple of feet away from her. Just as the shrieking had stopped, bile rose up her throat when the door flew open; literally, the hinges trajected to her direction she had to dodge.

“I thought we would be less problematic without Kidd and now you two want to replace him?” A tan, burly blond who donned a blue shirt and a helmet obscuring his face emerged from the dark room that now had no door. He was irritated but he maintained a calm voice and tacit composure.

“Heat was rubbin’ on me, what am I supposed to do?!” An awfully tall and lean man had to duck quite low to fit by the door so he could be seen, he had olive skin and straight, brown hair whose bangs had extended into two spikes at the middle of his head.

“Says the one who kept squeezing the shit out of the three of us because you’re huge as fuck!” Another exited the dark, cramped room with the same ire the previous ones held. He had wavy, arctic hair, pale complexion, and stitches all over his body.

When completely basing off their demeanor and appearance, they spell one word: danger. Yvi was hiding the entire time as the tall shelves obscured her, but of course, her dumbass knocked over some bottles and they rolled right by their feet. The menacing silence as one pet bottle had stopped their conversation when their eyes trailed to the point where it came from.

“A rat?”

“More like an infected.”

Yvi was hiding for her dear fucking life, she didn’t know she’d be killed by the fellow living in a world populated by the undead. She heard their impending footsteps approach her, slow but foreboding. Once they came face to face with her, she immediately threw her hands in the air as a sign of surrender as she shut her eyes awaiting her fate.

Hidden behind the shelves was a woman who donned a red sleeveless top which flaunted her toned, tawny stomach paired with cargo pants which carried belts with pouches and small sharp objects. She had long, black hair that cascaded down her figure in a silky manner and bangs that sparsely covered her forehead. Her dusty mauve scarf was loosely wrapped around her neck and its ends ran down until the floor. A beauty mark underneath the corner of her right eye. Piercing blue eyes held no ill intent as each looked at them with genuine hope and fear, as she raised her arm to beg for her life. Her fists were wrapped in thick, white bandages; it seemed more than a guard than a dressing for a wound.

“I’m alive!” She blurted out while falling to the floor under the men’s mercy.

A sigh of relief escaped one of them, the arctic haired. “Jeeeesus, I thought we had one of those crazies in here.” He followed after.

“My guess is you’re hiding from the freakshow out there, huh?” The blond shifted Yvi’s attention to him, a gentle voice as he lowered down his hand scythes.

“Yeah. It was a desperate escape.” She tried easing the atmosphere, laughing awkwardly. “I-I assume we’re cool now and not gonna kill each other?” Yvi smiled nervously, picking herself up.

“That depends.” While both of them put their weapon down, the brunette seemed to still suspect her. “If you’re up to somethin’ funny we might as well do.”

“Wire, give it a rest.” The blond spoke up, raising his hand to lower the brunette’s weapon. “Name’s Killer, this is Heat and this is Wire.” He pointed to his right on the former and to his left on the latter.

“Yviskos.” You smiled.

“Well, we’ll be on our way when that freakshow stops. Take care out here.” He gave her shoulder a little brush before turning their back away.

A sigh of relief escaped Yvi, Killer’s benevolence really saved her there. It made her think of clinging onto this group to save herself because they seem to have held themselves off pretty good up until now. Yvi can handle on her own but it’s always nice to have new sets of heads to survive.

“H-hey, I… Do you guys have a particular destination in mind?” You instigated, hoping they’d answer as they showed no interest in her business.

Killer turned around to face Yvi. “Not really, someone got separated from us and unfortunately, he was our leader. So we’re trying to find our way back to him. Aside from that, we’re pretty damn lost.” He rubbed on the back of his neck and that’s when she saw the marks on his left arm, but she didn’t dare to ask. “Why are you asking?”

“Ah, it’s nothing. I’m pretty lost too.” She chuckled bitterly after. “Only that I was the only one alive between my colleagues and I’ve been alone for the entirety of the plague. You were the first humans I’ve ever encountered since then.”

“That’s…impressive.” Wire praised. “You were the first human to not kill us when you met us, that's for sure in our case.” He followed after, laughing sardonically.

“You wanna come with us?” Heat addressed the elephant in the room, it was very obvious between the four of them that it’s a topic to be discussed. All of them looked at him funny. “W-what?! I mean, we have this camaraderie right off the bat. And she’s- would you men leave her alone especially in this era?” He shrugged his shoulders.

Killer sighed, he does have a point. It’s in the back of his head that if they left her, it’d haunt him that they didn’t do anything to save her from the imminent brutality. “I don’t see the reason why you should and shouldn’t join us…but Kidd wouldn’t be pleased if we decided on this.” Killer rubbed his chin. “Don’t get me wrong, Yviskos. I have nothing against you. It’s just… our group had been on our own since the plague started. And our leader is gone so…”

“Hey, it’s fine.” Yvi reassuringly brushed on his shoulders. “Don’t worry about me, I’m pretty strong, okay? And I don’t wanna be a stick in the mud between your group, so it’s fine. Let’s just see where your conscience gets you if you leave me-”

“Oh my God, duck!” Yvi interrupted her own sentence, the men read her expression as her eyes held panic, suspecting that an infected was behind them. So they followed as she said.

Yviskos abruptly moved to roundhouse kick the infected that loomed behind each of them, their bodies soon got thrown across the room from her impact. She was the only one who noticed it since everyone was facing her and had their backs turned from the window.

“So that’s how she fights,” Heat nodded, his fist hit his open palm together as if he had an epiphany.

“At this point, I want you in our gang.” Wire broke out in laughter as they stood back up and saw the mangled infected at the corner. “We would’ve been zombie food if it weren’t for you.”

Killer heard that last bit of her sentence pretty well even if she didn’t finish it. It was guilt-tripping him and eating at him and he knows it’s true. He’s just worried about what Kidd would think and what he would say to him when he just decided to add someone in their group. But it was a debt of gratitude and as a man, he had to repay it.

“For the meantime, you can join us because we owe you one.” Killer said, firmly crossing his arms. He didn’t miss how a wide smile tugged across her lips. “But the second you cause problems, you’re out.” He approached her in a demeaning manner, his size threatening her security.

“Sounds like a plan.” Yvi picked her stuff up and followed after them, leaving the premises of the dilapidated building. The lot passed by the aftermath the Banshee zombie had cost, the once fresh bodies that Yvi saw earlier were now infested with hordes of infected. The group all took it as a chance to leave the highway as fast as possible. But the Banshee zombie was not in sight.

“What was that thing?” Heat asked with utter disgust as he referred to the creature earlier. “It gathered that horde, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, its shrieking lasted a whole thirty seconds.” Killer answered, looking at Yvi after.

“Almost like a Banshee, yeah? I take it that as Scots you’re very familiar with it?” Yvi each looked at them as a sign of clarity dawned on their face. “It even looked like one. If I hadn’t put my earplugs on, I’d have no hearing by now at how close I was back there. Last I saw it was back in Mull, never thought there’s another here in Glasgow. Aberrants like that may evolve to something greater if they stay alive for long.”

“That’s freaky as hell.” Wire retorted, shivering at the thought. “How’d you know so much?”

“I encountered her before. And I’m also a biologist, well was.” Yvi shrugged, chuckling at that last bit. “I’ve been keeping track of Aberrants as a precaution and … a hobby. That profession ain’t mattering now, I’ll at least use what I know about species to make do.”

“It’s bizarre that you make that a hobby but… Yeah, we definitely need a brain in this group.” Killer bitterly chuckled, nudging her a little.

The group had passed by the highway and was now heading north to find shelter, since the entire north was the connection of the earlier highway. They thought that maybe they’d stumble upon another town. Only that along the way, they found a sign that pointed to an alleged community where human life exists and hoped to exist.

“New World?” Yvi read the wonky looking sign with a puzzling tone. It was a wooden board that seemed to be spray painted with black ink, an amateur work with botched handwriting. The group was bent down near the board that stood on the floor to inspect it closely.

“How are we sure this isn’t bait?” Killer inspected, reading the other contents of the sign. There were arrow signs across the road that pointed to a certain direction where a batch of trees obscured a huge wall that stretched across the span of wherever the eyes could see.

“I’ve seen this before but I didn’t bother checking it.” Yviskos stood straight, surveying the surroundings to check more signs. “You guys can fight, right?” Yvi looked at them. “Heat’s got a machete, Wire got a sword, and Killer has some scythes. Unless you’re bad fighters?”

“We can fight alright, wanna test it out?” Heat bent down to a fighting stance, taunting Yvi.

“You wouldn’t wanna do that if you don’t wanna be like the zombies earlier.” Wire interrupted. “We can fight, Yvi. But if it’s a whole community we’re fucking toast! Especially if Kidd ain’t here.” He flung his arms around to emphasize his statement.

“I keep hearing about this Kidd, what happened to him?”

“There’s originally four of us and we’ve mentioned he was our leader, decisions boiled down to him. He was the most skilled when it comes to fighting but he ain’t the smartest in judging situations.” Killer started, continuing on walking along the vicinity. “We got separated because he was surveying weapons and we were out to get food. We haven’t found our way back to him ever since the Banshee Aberrant.”

“You think he’d be the type to go to communities?” Yvi suggested, thinking he might be in this New World.

“God, no.” Heat snickered, “If we’re out of the picture, he’s a solitary motherfucker. Even before all this, he refuses to work in groups.”

“Sounds like a pain in the ass.” Yviskos blew air, “So, what plan are you guys thinking? Wanna check the New World out?”

They all looked at each other, waiting for others to answer. “We can always leave if it ain’t legit.” Wire blurted out. “We can judge it from a mile away, right?”

“Yeah! We need some restocks anyway.” Yvi motioned for her empty water bottle, shaking it open to show that it’s thirsting of water.

“Then it’s decided, we’ll head to the New World.” Killer led the way, following the arrows across the roads. Killer having no assurance whether Kidd was alive or not, slowly ate away at him.

intro w/ chapter list | next -> ch. #1.2-loguetown

i won't be providing any summaries bc i want it to be a surprise ><

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scripture-digital · 1 year

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Green, mean, seemingly radioactive - what a wonderful fit!

Hoo boy, okay, I admit - I go awooga hummina hummina bazoingo (etc...) when I see anything REMOTELY resembling this. Not sure why, I suppose I hold the most respect for all-out, especially when pure (this isn’t the purest I’ve seen, but damn is it beautiful).

The way similar textures interact, how they still find their own places on the limbs, the shreeded tights and the varying hues, the CYBERLOX - how wonderful. I wish I knew where she got her gas mask from, and how she did her eyeliner so nicely (I need to get on posting more makeup-spo, for my sake....), HOW she shredded her tights so nicely. It looks like black spiderweb, or like that one image I have in my computer... (posted below)

^ this thing. I don’t know what made this, but it’s really cool ain’t it?

Anyways, dream tights. I think I’ve seen her cyberlox up for sale in the cyberloxshop before (I dream of buying a pair of their cyberfalls myself, although I do have to resort to diy for multiple reasons - respect though), perhaps part of their predators? I don’t know, I haven’t actually been on the cyberloxshop in a long, long time. If these are handmade by either the model herself or someone that does not specialise in cybergothic creations full-time, respect. Her falls look absolutely FANTASTIC.

This may not be the wildest cybergoth co-ord, but if you hit the rave with this be sure that all eyes will be on you. Which reminds me, I should really work on my dancing... Haven’t in a while (she inspires me).

Sadly I don’t know who she is, or if she has more stuff like this, tineye isn’t giving much, and I got this off Pinterest of all places (half-explains the oatmeal quality all of my images have... AI upscalers have truly failed me).

I wonder how wild she had to go with her scissors to create those wonderful sleeve holes (? sounds odd LOL) - they just add so much life to an otherwise plain piece (note to self: destroy your whole wardrobe it is very benefishial). I can’t see her torso clearly, nor her skirt (I think she’s wearing a skirt), so I can’t comment on those, except...

WHERE’S HER CORSET!!!!

Okay fine cybergoth doesn’t require 24/7 corsertry practice, but it’d just bring this outfit together SO much more, especially if the lacing hoops were arranged nicely, or if the ribbon used for the lacing itself was funky - thinking acid green with splashes of black (perhaps splatter some bleach on it then go wild with the black fabric paint wherever that landed).

Either way, this is amazing. Truly incredible, even. I’d pay decently to have something like this (complete fit, etc) in my own wardrobe RIGHT NOW, but alas.

Her belt’s a bit plain as is her torso - again, el corseto bias etc... But also why not wear a graphic t-shirt instead? Wild shirts are pretty fucking cool, I’ve got like 2 of them myself and they glow NEON GREEN in the dark!! It’s really sick lol, I loves those things to bits also.

And last but not least, can I just say how much I love that neon green splatter effect filter? Very chic, probably a photoshop thing and it’s cool as hell. I love janky filters no matter what (unless they are vaporwave - I do like vaporwave but not people that like vaporwave also...).

8.5/10, would’ve been a 9 if corset present (I have a bias as a pro-corsetter, I love those things to death).

It’s as shrimple as that.

#cybergoth #cyberfashion #cyber #goth #fashion #dark #alt #alternative #altfashion #lookbook #cyberlox #cyberfalls

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mwolf0epsilon · 2 years

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Whumptober Day 15: Emotional Damage

Prompt: New Scars

Summary: The Madame notices one of her favourite dancers has a new scar. She is rightfully concerned.

[I promised myself this random background character wasn't going to become an oc, yet here we are... Either way, I like to imagine there's an unspoken truce between the Coruscant Guard and the red light district workers...]

THIS STORY IS ALSO ON AO3

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The Red Light District on Coruscant was no stranger to desperation. Oftentimes those who found work there had not done so because they wanted to be a part of the seedy underbelly. That said Madame Orquídea had done her best to set up a more reputable establishment.

Her brothel was home to hundreds of men and women she'd pulled from the streets herself. It was a venue of many pleasures, but also a safe haven for those who really had nowhere else to go.

Those who wanted to work there could do so. Their boundaries set and respected.

Those who were far too young were cared for. Protected from the cruelties of the lower levels.

It wasn't perfect, but it worked. Madame Orquídea had made it work. Her veteran dancers and sex workers helped her make it work. The men and women of the night looked out for each other. Looked out for their most vulnerable.

Which was why she noticed when one of her favourite boys came in looking all sorts of rough...

Thorn was most definitely a looker. All of the clones were beautiful by most humanoid standards and (while she wasn't exactly into humans) even she could see the aesthetic values of their features.

Nicely chiseled features. Soft round edges. Defined musculature. Tan skin.

Dark eyes with a glint of mischief to them. Flaming ringlet red hair with frosted tips. A well trimmed beard often styled with archaic braids. A gentle and seductive smile surrounded by flushed lips.

And, of course, the thing that attracted attention: The scars. Many of the Madame's patrons were suckers for a noticeable scar. And Thorn was covered in them.

Faded lines carving into the canvas of his body. Promising harrowing tales of untold horrors. A soldier's body fit into burlesque attire, swaying to the rhythm of the venue's tunes. Showing off those intricate secrets of his.

They always looked nice coated in glittery paints that glowed in the low lights. A tiger striped warrior.

The newest addition still looked red and angry however. And it was big. Too big to ignore. Too big not to be concerned about his well being. The Madame liked Thorn after all...

"It's too early to put make-up on that... It will sting terribly." She used one claw to carefully push the hand holding the brush down. The other raised up to gently cradle his face. Or as gentle as a Yaam'rii's claw could be. "You already hurt when you work up above... You shouldn't have to hurt down here too..."

"It'll be fine." Thorn gave her a sheepish smile. The new line carving his face twisted slightly. So much so she was worried it'd split open. "I've had worse."

His smile dropped after that. Probably knowing that hadn't been the answer she was looking for. It didn't look good on him, the frown. Thorn was more himself when he had a great big grin upon his bearded face.

"I know you have dear... I just wish you didn't have to." She sighed sadly at the reality of his situation. Of all of their situations.

The Republic was not kind to clones. Just as it was not kind to those who dwelled down under in the lower-levels of Coruscant. Getting by doing things most considered reproachful.

Most did not understand that they were merely trying to survive. Many even judged them for it. Dared think they'd chosen this life. It was why the Red Light District had very few issues with the Coruscant Guard.

The clones understood what it was like. At least the ones clad in red and white armour did.

And the Madame did her best to protect the ones that came into her establishment looking for work. They were all gentle folks at heart, despite having been bred for war. They deserved protecting just as much as anyone else that came into her care.

She just wishes they knew that themselves...

#Eps Writes #star wars #the clone wars #whumptober2022 #commander thorn #red light district #burlesque dancing

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fernrisulfr · 1 year

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Umbra

This was a concept that popped into my head in the middle of work one day and lived rent free in my head for weeks. When he arrived in a game, he accidentally destroyed the DM and one of the players. (The DM hadn’t anticipated what he could do mechanically, and a simple “Speak with Animals” lead to a reveal about a party member, followed by him naively blurting it out.). This was sadly my last campaign with this group, and I miss them often.

Umbra (Druid 4)

Warforged - Druid (Stars) - City Watch- Neutral/Good - Umbra

On first meeting "I am…Umbra, for I know only darkness". Upon first use of Star Form or Paladin Smite "I am Umbra, the darkness between the stars". Wakes up covered in moss, ivy, and other plants in a ruin without memory of what or who he "really" is. Based on a character from a forum RP on Gaiaonline.

"Alright so the idea for his personality probably leans more towards the Brave/Relaxed nature. Its mentioned in Dex Entries for both Golett and Golurk that they were made by an ancient civilization to protect people; the thing is, protect them from WHAT exactly? And did they succeed? Reading up on the map itself fed more into my idea, but the mixture of the calm serene music at the start leading into the more intense sounds later sort of paints an image for me.

Imagine Umbra in the ruins of a castle or fortress, some sort of stronghold in what was "once" a village. Columns stand broken, beams shattered, rumble strewn across the floor as moss and roots take hold of everything. Yet still the scars of battle stand. Scorch marks on the floors and walls, hunks of clay limbs mixed in with the debris. Then you come up to a full Golett, seated, propped against a pillar as sun slips in through a crack in the ceiling. It does not move, its eyes lack the glow of life. Now we don't know WHAT powers a Golett but given its ghost typing I'm assuming its souls/life energy. So something dies nearby, or perhaps the moss and plants nearby begin to wither and decay. The Golett's eyes flicker with light. The sound of a bell gongs, A slow ticking emanating from it's chest as the colour becomes solid. The Golett rises, taking in it's surroundings with confusion. It stands, attempts to stand, but finds itself briefly stuck among entangling roots. The Pokemon wanders forward in relative silence. Slowly it looks at its surroundings, each scene causing a flicker of memory. Its creation. Simple feats of strength, carrying lumber and iron, always the subtle hint they're not building sheds and farm fences. Things grow more intense, the visions turning red as fires blaze in it's memory. The images of other Golett being shattered in combat. Eventually the Pokemon returns to the sight of where it woke, the visions featuring it's last stand. Rage, desperation, and the sole duty laying before it.

An enemy lay felled at it's feet, the Pokemon's own body wore with damage. Eyes begin to flicker as it's own life ebs away. The end is near, it props itself against the pillar as fire and battle continue to rage around it. Then.....nothing. For hundreds of years, just a relic of ages forgotten. Once a soldier, a protector, built as a machine for war. Yet now he returns in a time where the war is over. Did they win? Lose? Does it even matter? A civilization lost to time. Once he fought bravely, but rising anew in the aftermath has given him perspective. Destruction begets more destruction. Sometimes one must fight, but more so than anything you must know what you are fighting for."

Backstory as Written: Umbra doesn't remember his own creation, perhaps that's normal for most creatures, but given his nature it seems odd. Of course most of his memories remain hazy and indistinct. What he does remember, was the purpose for which he was made. At least he thinks it is. To protect. The people, the land, and all those they hold dear. He was not alone in this duty, he recalls others…not names, or faces, but he remembers standing beside them. He's sure of it. Ever proud of his work was he…but things slowly changed. Days? Months? Years? Anxiety. Fear. Uncertainty. Gone was cobble stone beneath his feet…at least it felt like stone? Replaced by dirt and grass as he carried lumber and iron….built….something. Not sheds or fences. Dangerous somethings? Deadly things for a deathly foe. Who or what was it though? The world turns red. Heat. Fire. Desperation. A squeezing in his chest he couldn't place. Roars…what was making them again? The clang of steel. Joints feel like they're stretching to their limits. Exhausted. Fewer shapes than before. So many lost…why are they lost? That squeezing becomes tighter. Fear to fury. What cannot be protected will be avenged, so no others shall fall. The world turns red. A shape at his feet, too dark to clearly see even without the haze. Vision swimming, even before it was a memory. World goes horizontal. The stars are out...beautiful…then...darkness.

Appearance: 6′4, 275 lbs. White eyes, body made of a dark wood. Made mostly of wood and other plant based materials, but with odd black stones at his joints. Face looks like a featureless mask with eye holes and fawn like ears, large pair of antlers protrude from his head. Several belts for holding equipment. Sort of a ranger vibe. Bleeds maple syrup. Stores his Astrolabe in the middle of his chest. When he enters his story form his body turns jet black, the black stones at his joints glowing bright white as lines connected his limbs. The constellation of which power he’s invoking appears on his chest with the astrolabe acting as the central star. When not using the Starry Bow of his Starry Form Archer, he uses a regular shortbow or a club.

#dnd #D&D #Dungeons and Dragons #Character Concept #Warforged #Star Druid #DnD Druid #Umbra #Circle of Stars #Personal

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autumn-foxfire · 1 year

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IF YOU'RE DEPRESSED AND YOU KNOW IT TAKE A NAP IF YOU'RE ANGSTY AND YOU FEEL IT STEAL A CAT IF YOU'RE SWIMMING IN THE SAD AND IT MAKES YOU KINDA MAD FIND A MAP!!! FIND A MAP!!! bonk bonk whomp whomp 🎶🎵 I'm so sorry this is probs so stupid sounding, I'm improvising the whole way here, I was hoping to make you laugh a little! Sadly turns out dragonfruit does not rhyme with cat (dunno why I was even thinking of fruit tbh) so I had to go with map and decided its close enough to toilet paper rolls and everyone likes going bonk whomp with toilet paper rolls right? like a rolled up newspaper? Pull a Dabi and ask your depression to dance with you in hell like it's personified and play fight it, your brain probably doesn't work like mine but it's an idea I suppose 😅 a more normal tip would probably be wearing fuzzy socks, making a nest of pillows and blankets and blaring music as you stare at the ceiling, have a snack that tastes good, small things to lift your spirits, look at pictures that spark joy or funny moments in your fav series, hug a giant bouncy ball or try some finger painting? I hear recreational stuff like this can be a good distraction because we're going back to the stone ages of humanity where we chilled and did stuff with our hands, I used to also sit in the closet in the dark, might bring something that glows in the dark with me, or stuff my head in the pillow case bc why not

Thank you, reading this cheered me up more than you know <3

I've been very listless today and it's been bringing me down. It's been one of those days where I can't seem to do anything, so I'm hoping a night's sleep will make that go away.

#personal #thanks for the ask!!

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learningnewways · 2 years

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Oslo - Day 4

After yesterday’s late night out, we all slept in until 10am this morning. 10am?! That’s crazy! We couldn’t believe it! Once we finally got out of bed, we made breakfast and did laundry, and once again had a slower morning. We left the apartment at around 1pm for our city exploring.

We started at the Oslo Public Library which was really cool. It opened recently and has some cool spots to hang out in, great views of the waterfront as it’s right beside the Opera House, and it had this really awesome eight metre high colourful art piece that was impressive. We then went to Munch Museum, which holds the artwork of Edvard Munch, a famous Norwegian artist. I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed this art museum. I’m usually a fan of realistic art like Tim Wilson and Peter Geen, whereas Munch is more abstract. Buuuuuuut, I didn’t know that Munch is the artist behind the famous Scream paintings! So cool! There were also some really giant paintings, like eight metres wide, that they had to crane into the building! Wow!

The museum itself was super interactive, with chances to do art yourself using techniques Munch used. One of my favourite things was this labyrinth maze type area that was full of walls where people could write whatever they wanted onto it without colourful markers. It was like graffiti art! There was a glow-in-the-dark area too which was so cool! Of course, I wrote my name on it, as did Johanne and Cody, so now we are part of the museum’s exhibition in Norway! How cool!

After the museum trip, Cody went to go meet with some friends for a late lunch while Johanne and I had some well deserved donuts on the waterfront. We’d been talking for ages, but once we sat down with those donuts, we were quiet and enjoyed those delicious treats! Haha. We then walked down the waterfront and came to an area called Salt which had food stalls, cute sitting areas, beautiful views of the waterfront and city, and even had a group of people doing Latin dancing! It was a vibe! Johanne and I got some food and drinks, and enjoyed the spectacular atmosphere and views. Watching the dancers have a great time got me excited for next year, when a good friend and I back home are going to take Salsa lessons. I’ve always loved dancing and wanted to take up lessons again as an adult and try something new, so that’ll be so much fun!

We then met up with Cody and his friends for a drink further down on the waterfront which was nice. When I say a drink, I mean they had beer and I had a mango lassi, haha. We then headed home for dinner which was burgers, yum! Johanne also made us some Norwegian waffles which were interesting. They are similar to normal waffles, but you have them with sour cream and jam. Yes, sour cream! And also brown cheese, which is strange, kind of like butter or soft caramelised cheese... It’s a confusing taste!

Overall it was another enjoyable, relaxed day here in Oslo. Sadly tomorrow is my last full day with Johanne and Cody, which I’m pretty sad about... It’s so wonderful being here with them and I know it will probably be a long time before I see them again. But I’m trying not to think about that and just enjoy being here for now. It is truly wonderful!

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fruitoftheweek · 3 years

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Little Cherry Book:

Chapter 4:Showered in Sin

Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here

Hey guys! I'm sorry that it has taken so long for me to update this. I had an idea of what I was going to write but I had a super hectic week so I wasn't able to write this till now. In order to make up for it, I have given you a treat. A 6,502 word chapter. It kinda beat my ass but I had so much fun writing it. It's sweet, it's spicy, it's all the goodness you guys deserve. I was listening to Duvet by Boa while writing this and I think you should too for two reasons. One, it helps set the mood, but also oh my fucking god it's such a good song. Also, Boa is just a fucking great band. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and message me if you would like to be added to the tag list! Love you guys

Pairing: Spencer Reid X reader

Chapter Plot: After a game of drunk never have I ever after a long case, Morgan locks Spencer out of their shared room. Shenanigans ensue and you and Spencer share a couple of firsts.

Series TW: 18+, smut, degradation, piercing, choking, knife play, mommy/daddy kinks, spanking, exhibitionism, Will update as time goes on

Chapter TW: smut, slight mommy kink, having body piercings, choking, slight blood kink (not really, it's just hard to explain), Shared masturbation (male and female receiving), pleading, multiple orgasms, cumming in pants, shower sexiness, aftercare

Word Count: 6,502

Your deep cherry lipstick painted the white seal of the wine bottle you held in your hand as you laughed at something Elle said. Spencer couldn't help but let a small smile pass his lips as he took in your form, hot from the day's work, small strands of your hair sticking to your forehead, a dewy glow illuminating your rosy cheeks.

After a long week, they had found Carl Arnold before he had been able to kill the Dunken family and even coerced a confession out of him. With spirits running high, Elle had suggested some much-needed relaxation before taking off the next day. Since you were rooming alone, you volunteered to host in your room. Morgan had arrived at your hotel room with two bottles of some sort of liquor, one clear and one amber, JJ trailing in toe with your bottle of red wine you had asked for. You pulled out your little corkscrew with the face of an old man on it, knowing she hated his weird little face. You brought it with you on trips, just in case the occasion arose.

And it did arise as Elle suggested a drinking game. Hotch had retired early after calling Hailey to get an update on his very pregnant wife, while Gideon preferred the solitude of a good book late at night. The rest of you sat on the floor surrounded by drinks and snacks. With the supervision gone, it almost felt like a high school party with no parents. You all had all settled on a classic, never have I ever. "We haven't played this in a long time because we already know so much about each other, but it's fun when we have a newbie around," Morgan said giving you a cheeky smile and bumping your shoulder. Already pliable after the couple of drinks you had while Elle explained the game, you nodded before tipping your lips to the cusp of Spencer's ear. "I'll try not to make it too hard for you, pretty boy," you said. The small puffs of air that left your mouth made Spencer's hair stand on end and his feet curl.

He knew you were teasing him that night and he loved it. He decided to keep his knees tucked to his chest for the rest of the night as to not expose the predicament in his pants. He watched the way you lightly sucked on the wine bottle as you tipped it back, a thin river of cabernet leaking from the corner of your lips and trailing down your neck. Spencer wanted nothing more than to lean over and lap it off of you just to see how you would react, but he knew it was the drinks talking. Despite your earlier comment, it was quite obvious that you were targeting him as his head started to spin gently.

"Never have I ever had sex with someone much older than me," Garcia said through her video feed with a cheeky smirk. Derek had insisted on including her even though she wasn't physically present. She sat bundled up in a comfy blanket in her office with a mug of some sort of alcoholic beverage. "HEY! No targeting! Plus, I told you that in confidence at ladies night. How much is much older?" You said, swaying your bottle towards the computer set up on the floor."You know how much older I mean sweetheart." Garcia said with a giggle as you groaned and took a sip."How much older is much older?" Morgan said with a cocked eyebrow, somewhere between impressed and surprised." I was a college student, experimenting with my professor. Not like an old man, but he was 20 years older than me. Definitely not my style anymore though." You said with a grimace remembering him.

Spencer had learned a lot about your sex life during that game, but some part inside of him smirked, knowing that the rest of the team would never know you as he knew you, not unless they too had read your journal. It was the only thing keeping his head clear of the idea of you with anyone else. Not that you were with him in any capacity, but the idea still made him feel something in his stomach. Not the sweet butterflies that came with your smile, but something more like idiotic hornets dangerously bumping against the walls of his stomach.

Spencer hadn't even noticed the uproar of everyone else around the circle at your comment and the second revelation that Morgan had drunk too. He was too busy watching how you had shyly tucked your hair behind your ear, finally letting it down out of your clips for once. You were wearing your pajamas, just a tank top, slouchy sweater, and flannel pajama pants, but somehow you looked more radiant than ever. He had come back down to earth after hearing someone call his name."Y-Yes?" He sputtered out, realizing you had been trying to get his attention."It's Morgan's turn, pay attention." You said, gently smacking your hand down on his thigh.

If he was riled up before, he was unbelievably undone at the slight sting from where your palm had just been. Light enough that it wasn't noticeable, but hard enough that it erupted a Shockwave through his body, centered on the location of the contact. He bit back the whimper threatening to escape his lips as he turned towards Morgan, trying desperately to not watch you from the corner of his eye.

"Never have I been a virgin at 24," Morgan said, beaming in his direction. Spencer took a big gulp from his glass of whiskey."You always do that one, I don't know why you think it's so funny, you're just trying to get me to drink" he said abashedly. He looked over at you, nervous for your reaction, but you seemed unfazed. "Hey, that's a wonderful gift to have, there's something so special about virgins. Maybe it's the idea that everything is new, but I like it. I love virgins." You said, taking a sip from your bottle, gently swaying. You had given up on never have I ever and just decided to drink whenever you felt like it. Maybe it was because you were tipsy, maybe it was the warm flush that decorated Spencer's cheeks, maybe it was the way he was looking at you with sultry, half-lidded eyes. You couldn't tell, but something made you want to find an excuse for you two to be alone.

"Geese, we seemed to have caught a succubus tonight." Morgan quipped."A suck-you-what now?" You said, cocking an eyebrow at him. " A succubus, it's a demon or supernatural entity in folklore, in female form, that appears in dreams to seduce men, usually through sexual activity. According to religious traditions, repeated sexual activity with a succubus can cause poor physical or mental health, even death. In modern representations, a succubus is often depicted as a beautiful seductress or enchantress, rather than as demonic or frightening." Spencer shot out. "Wow, even when you're drunk, your big brain keeps chuggin' along," you said, sloppily ruffling his hair "A beautiful seductress or enchantress, huh?" That time it came out low, inaudible to the others, but it pierced Spencer like a knife."Do you think that's accurate bout me?" you asked, staring up into his eyes, closer than you have been before. Spencer let a cartoonish gulping noise escape his lips as he held back his urge to lean into your touch.

"Ah, it's my turn," you said, leaning back into your spot in the circle and sadly, away from Spencer." Never have I ever done something naughty at our work," you said, looking straight at Spencer "I'll know if you're lying, I can sniff out a liar from a mile away," your cocky smirk leaking out of your mouth. Everyone except you and JJ took a shot."Wow, really you guys? Even you Spence? " JJ said in disbelief, looking around the circle."Never have I ever, my ass" Spencer mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, looking over at you, thinking about your pantieless escapades.

"Look at that, Doctor Reid, you need another drink, let me go fix you one," You said as you grabbed his glass in one hand, leaning and gripping hard into his shoulder with the other. It wasn't seen by the others, but between that and the fiery look in your eyes, it sent an obvious message,' keep your mouth shut or I'll shut it for you.' You used him as leverage to get up, nearly pushing him over as you gracefully stumbled to the hotel fridge. He knew what you meant, but he didn't care, your grip on him went straight into his imagination as he envisioned what that grip would feel like in other places. He kind of wanted to push his luck, just so he could see what he had in store.

And push it he did as you handed him the glass, reminding him that it was indeed his turn to play never have I ever. "Never have I ever slept with my professor," He said, obviously targeting you with a glint of mischief in his eyes."Oh yeah, well never have I ever been a virgin at 24." You said, swaying as you sat down."Morgan already said that, dummy. Never have I ever worn stupid dark red lipstick" He retorted, equally as drunk as you. At this point everyone else had zoned you two out and were focused on other things, refreshing their drinks, counting the ceiling tiles, humming a sloppy rendition of My My Miss American Pie, or in Penelope's case, all three."Yeah, well never have I ever been a complete and utter mommas boy!" You continued, the statement turning Spencer beet red. You watched him clench and unclench his hands, you had obviously struck a nerve. Just as you were about to apologize, he cut you off. "Never have I ever had nipple piercings!" He shouted, pointing at your chest, now drawing attention to the obvious balls framing your nipples that you had once been covered by your long-forgotten sweater.

As he said it, it felt like the world went in slow motion. You could see the instant regret on his face as you dropped your bottle in surprise. It had landed on Spencers discarded whiskey glass and both shattered, wine and whiskey mixing with glass to create a slurry on the ground between them. "Fuck! You Guys!" Morgan said, "You got it all over my clothes." "Me too," Echoed Elle as they both stood up in their soaked clothes. "I think that calls it a night." JJ said, closing the laptop on the image of an already sleeping Garcia." Bye you guys, sleep well," you called after them as you and Spencer rushed around looking for towels to clean up the alcohol with.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" Spencer cried as you dropped the last of the glass in the garbage can. As you rounded the corner, you saw Spencer pulling a rather large shard of glass that you must have missed out of his thumb, blood pooling at the tip. Without thinking, you crouched down and sucked his thumb into your mouth." A-ah! What... What are you doing!?" Spencer asked breathlessly, looking down at you with a deep hunger in his eyes. You pop off his thumb and squeeze it at the base, slowing the blood flow."Shut up," You said," This helps slow the bleeding. The sucking applies pressure. My mom used to do this for me... And no, do not psychoanalyze that." You said, wrapping your mouth around his finger, sucking to provide some pressure to slow the blood flow. You could taste the iron in your mouth, but you didn't mind, knowing you were helping your friend.

You were helping alright, helping in more ways than you would ever understand. "Yeah, like I'm the only one here with mommy issues," he said distractedly, too busy surveying your lips wrapped around him. You slapped your hand down on his thigh once more, eliciting a small whimper from him. He couldn't help it, you were a sight of beauty, you always were, but looking down on you right then, Spencer wanted to bottle that moment forever. The tops of your breasts peeking out from the top of your tank top, your eyes filled with a hazy glow, looking up at him to make sure he was ok, and your cheeks hollowing out around his thumb as you delicately sucked on his wound. It was as close as Spencer had ever gotten to anything sexual. He could feel your tongue swirling around the cut, lapping up the last couple drops of blood. He couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if it was another appendage and not his thumb. You sucked on his thumb one last time, harder than you had previously, and before he even knew what he was doing, his hips bucked up, rubbing his hard cock against his pajama pants, finally relieving his mounting orgasm.

You let go of his finger with a pop as your tongue trailed off of the underside of his thumb. Spencer looked anywhere but you, as a wet patch formed through his thin underwear and pajama pants. He hurried to cover it with his sweater, shooting up from his seated position."Um, Um, I'm g-gonna go shower and go to bed." He said, hurriedly scurrying over to where he had left his room key." Sorry partner, I saw Morgan accidentally grab both of your keys on the way out. He's probably asleep by now." You said languidly, leaning back to take in the sight of the soft boy in front of you. Totally flushed with heat, small beads of sweat peppering his forehead, his hands twiddling suspiciously into his sweater in an attempt to conceal crotch, trying and failing miserably to hide his rapidly cooling cum.

He whined a little, lighting a fire in you. He looked so thoroughly fucked out, and all you had done was suck his finger. You knew that you just had to play with him some more. "You know, you can use my shower, doctor." You said, and he let out a small sigh of relief, heading towards the bathroom. "There is one condition, though," You smirked coyly as he halted his motions, his body facing away from you. It was almost as if he was ready to run away at any moment. You walked over to him, slowly, taking your time to tease him. The silence hung heavy in the air as you looked up into his eyes questioningly, waiting for him to ask. "Wh-what is the condition." He said, unable to return your gaze, hands fisted in the hem of his sweater, pulling it down even further. You smirked, dipping your hands up and under his sweater, nearly brushing his spent cock before gently placing them on his bare stomach, just above his waistband. He sucked in a tight breath as you gently swirled your fingers in the short hair that lead from his belly button down to happier places." Before I ask, do you know about the color scale?" you said, fingers smoothing out over his little stomach." Um, k-kinda?" He said, heat flushing his cheeks."Green means good keep going, yellow means slow down, and red means stop right now, ok?" You said, looking up at him as he nods."Come on pretty boy, I need verbal confirmation. I need to know that you understand, got it." You said with a little pinch to his tummy. "Y-Yes, I understand!" He blurted out, standing stiff as a board." Good boy. Now, for my condition. You can shower if you show me what you're hiding." You said, leaning close enough that if Spencer breathed, your chests would meet each other. "What color, Spencer?" you said, languidly drawing lines up and down his torso with your nails."G-Green, Very green." He sputtered out, finally meeting your eyes."That's what I like to hear, sweet boy." You said before your fingers danced below his waistline, now somewhat crusty from his cum."W-wait!" He says, just as you were about to take him in your hand. You instantly stopped and looked up at him gently."We can stop here baby, it's not a problem." You said, beginning to remove your hand from his pants. He grabbed your hand through his pants, stopping your movement."It-It's not that. I don't want to stop, I just want... well..." He said and looked down shyly. "What do you want baby, anything," You smiled up at him. "Um, I haven't had my first kiss yet and I kinda... Well... I kinda..." He said, shuffling his feet, face beet red. Your eyebrows shot up quickly in surprise before letting out a gentle smile."Do you want a kiss, pretty boy?" You said, gently brushing the hair out of his face. He nodded, and you grabbed his chin, bringing him close. "Use your words, pretty boy. What do you want?" You whispered, breath gently ghosting Spencer's lips as he took you in up close. He could see every little pore and dimple of your skin and every color hidden in the depth of your eyes and he knew he needed to have you.

He shakily leaned forward, lips gently meeting yours, so light that if you hadn't seen his actions, you wouldn't have even known if you had touched. You moved your hand down to his throat, giving a light squeeze."Come on genius, use your words," you said as he whimpered. "Please, can I kiss you, please, please?" He begged, leaning into your touch, pleading for you to squeeze again. His efforts shoot straight to your heart. You indulged him in a kiss, not as spicy as the situation would permit, more of a sweet heat. He came in too hot and heavy at first, but you kissed him languidly, gently stroking his cheek to get him in the rhythm. His arms were straight out at his sides, hands clenched as if he was willing every muscle in his body to not touch you.

You let out a small laugh as you melted into his kiss, soft, puffy lips dancing across yours. "You know you can touch me," You said, pulling back, smiling at the smear of your lipstick, now staining his lips, and the endearing puppy dog eyes he was giving you. "Where can I touch you?" He whispered out as if he were telling a secret. "Wherever you want, baby. Wherever your heart desires." You replied, bringing your arms up to wrap loosely around his neck, pulling your bodies closer. He was as stiff as a board as his hands flitted around trying to find a good place to land. He finally settled on weaving his arms around your waist and up to cradle your neck, gently carding his fingers through the hair that fell at the nape of your neck. There was something so sweet in the way he cradled your body with feather-light touches as if you would disappear like smoke if he lingered too long. You reveled in the feeling of you two pressed together, slightly uncomfortable at the stiff material of his pajama pants on your stomach.

"Hey sweetheart," You said, pulling away as he chased after your lips, "I'm feeling kinda sweaty from the day, would you like to join me in the shower? What color?" "G-green, yes please." He said, tentatively pressing a kiss to your collarbone, exposed as the strap of your tank top had fallen down. You unwound from him, taking his hand delicately in your own, instantly missing the warmth his body provided.

You lead him into the bathroom, carefully stepping over the wine-soaked towels discarded on the floor before shutting the door and turning to face him. "I don't want to take this too fast for you because I know it's all very new so always tell me how you are feeling and if everything is ok. I want this to be good for you baby, ok?" You said, squeezing his hand that was still intertwined with yours. "Ok, th-thank you," He said shyly.

"Now, what do you want to do first? You're probably pretty uncomfortable in those pants, do you want me to take them off you?" You said, hooking one of your fingers into his waistband, pulling on in slightly creating a much-needed separation between his sticky cock and his uncomfortable pants."Y-Yes please" He said as you turned on the shower, allowing it to warm up in preparation for cleaning him off before turning back to him. You gently grabbed the hem of his sweater and pulled it over his head, leaving him shirtless in front of you.

Lean muscles were hidden under a layer of peachy soft skin highlighting the gentle trail of dark curly hair leading from his belly button down past his pants. His arms curled around himself as he watched your eyes carefully, ready for some sort of judgment. "I know I'm not really that s-strong or anything but I can work on it-" You cut him off with a gentle kiss right above his belly button, startling him. You looked up sweetly into his eyes and gave him a soft smile, saying "You are so beautiful, Spencer. Morgan calls you pretty boy, but he truly has no idea. I would have you no other way than you are right now."

You gently peppered his chest with feather-light kisses, making him blush. He finally understood why people liked hickeys because as you trailed down his chest, the little wine red lipstick you had left on your lips left marks trailing down his chest. Some part of him wished they were permanent, showing off to all that could see, and they would know exactly who he belonged to. You dipped your hand into his waistband, asking, "What color?" "Green, very green," he choked out as your breath ghosted across his abdomen. You looked so beautiful, kneeled on the floor in front of him, taking care of him so gently and treating him so sweetly that he could feel his cock begin to harden again.

You looked up into his eyes as you pulled his pants down. He let out a soft sigh of relief as he was uncaged from his unfortunate trouser situation. His cock flipped down out of his pants, nearly smacking you in the forehead as you looked up at it in awe. Even though it was only semi-hard, it was bigger than any you had ever seen before. Spencer looked down at you shyly "it's not that much, I-I know but I've been researching techniques to make up for it in order to give sufficient pleasure for you- I mean for whatever partners I may have, not that I am saying that I won't please you, I dream of pleasuring you! ... I'm digging myself a hole aren't I."He rambled, rubbing the back of his neck worriedly. "Spencer, you are huge. Way more than I have ever had before. See?" You said, standing up, gently lifting his cock in your hand, measuring it against your stomach.

Maybe Spencer hadn't noticed because it was proportionate to his body and his big hands, but being held in your petite hands and measured against your stomach, he finally did see how much he would fill you up. The tip of his dick just barely reached past the gems that decorated your belly button piercing. "W-Woah." He said growing harder at the thought of pushing so deep into you. He looked up to your face, which was preoccupied with looking down at how far he would reach up in you.

Tearing your eyes away from him and up to his own, you flushed, knowing that he had caught you staring. "What would you like me to do next?" You spoke softly. Despite being the only two in the room, you two both talked in hushed tones, worrying that anything more than that would burst the delicate bubble you two had created. "Can we match?" He said, and you instantly understood him, despite the odd vernacular. You began to slip off your shirt, but he stopped you with an arm on your shoulder. "C-Can I do it?" He said shyly. "Of course, pretty baby," you barely get out before he drifted his hands under your tank.

He slowly lifted your top over your head as he took in the soft smooth feeling of your skin against his, goosebumps pricking up wherever his fingers trailed. You stood in front of him, shirtless as he took in your form. He had imagined what your breasts would look like. Nipples always hard due to your piercings, what your jewelry would look like, but nothing could prepare him for the glimmering moonstone gems that adorned your nipples and navel. Everything matched exactly, including the delicate necklace you wore around your neck.

The only thing he liked more than the perfection of your body was the features that made you, you. Some might call them imperfections, but to Spencer, all he could see in you was beauty. The gentle bruises on your skin from tangles with unsubs, the soft stretch marks that adorned your hips like little valleys and winding rivers, the slight blemishes, and hairs. He loved it because you were the embodiment of the confidence he wished for in himself. While he was always nervous about his body and how others perceived him, you loved yourself for exactly who you were, and you loved him for exactly who he was.

He pulled down your pants, gently following the twist and turn of the stretch marks as they winded down your hips, making sure to kneel down to pull them all the way off of you as you delicately stepped out, gently grabbing onto his hair to keep your balance as you swayed. He moaned softly at the gentle tug of your fingers while he stared up at you in awe. You took his hand in yours, coaxing him to stand.

You both stood there, taking in each other's forms for a moment, hands still connected as if by a thread at the pinky before you spoke. "We shouldn't waste water. Let me clean you off, sweetheart." He nodded before following after you into the gentle spray of the shower, steam now filling the room. He marveled at the way that the water droplets cascaded down your body, gently running down your curves. "Come here," you said, pulling him into a gentle embrace under the hot water.

Your two bodies pressed gently together, and Spencer couldn't help but think that you were molded for each other. Not in the way that a sculptor may stick two unmatched pieces of clay together with slip, more like one rock that had been split by the earth finally returning together. Something about your touch felt like home as you gently cradled him under the water.

He was so enthralled in your being that he didn't notice you gently scrubbing him with a washcloth until the scent of your body wash permeated the air. You gently scrubbed his back, washing off the sweat of the day and replacing it with you. He melted into you as your hands reached up, lathering his hair with shampoo. He wasn't sure if it was because he realized you should probably be getting washed too or because he desperately wanted to ride his hands along the planes of your body, but he decided to lather up his hands and wash you as well. "You are such a good boy. Thank you for cleaning me up" You said, resting your head gently on his chest, softly swirling the soap around his back, now finished scrubbing all you could from that angle, waiting to turn him around.

He moved carefully, avoiding your butt, still too nervous to touch. "Make sure you get everything, sweet boy. I like to be clean when I go to bed." You said, gently grabbing his hand and pulling it down to cup your butt. He inhales a sharp breath as he indulged in a gentle squeeze, continuing to wash you. He washed your back but his hands would occasionally drift down to your ass, growing more confident as he unknowingly rocked into you slightly with every squeeze, letting out soft keening noises.

You peeled yourself off of him as he rutted into the air, whining at the loss of friction. "Slow down, naughty boy. Bad boys don't get to touch. Are you a bad boy?" you asked as you placed a finger on the tip of his cock, swirling it in the precum pooling there despite the water's efforts to wash it off. "No, no! I'm a good boy! You're just so pretty, and you feel so good, and you smell so nice, and I wanna touch you, and I want you to touch me, please." He blurted out, looking at you with hungry eyes, begging for more friction. "Where do you want to touch me baby?" you asked as his eyes raked over your body, taking in all of his options. "I want to touch your boobies and your- your-" "My what? You can say it, naughty boy." You cut him off in his stammering. "Your pussy, I want to touch your pussy." He said, the hot water spreading the blush from his cheeks down his chest, tingeing his cock with a pretty pink hue. "What naughty words from such a pretty boy. You can touch-" he cut you off, lunging towards your body before you grabbed him by the throat, squeezing experimentally. Not too hard, not too soft. He moaned, and you felt the vibrations traveling up your hands."Let me finish what I was saying. Naughty boys don't get to touch. They get spanked." You said as he mewled." What I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted was that you can touch, AFTER I wash you and after you finish washing me. Only after, you got it?" you said, squeezing a little tighter. "Y-yes." he croaked out. "Good boy," you replied.

You washed out the shampoo in his hair, replacing it with conditioner as he did the same for you. You squirted more soap onto your washcloth, preparing to test him. You took the washcloth in your hand, slowly working over his legs, arms, and chest, teasingly brushing over his overspent cock before returning to cleaning him. He washed you thoroughly, taking care to wash your legs before making sure your stomach and belly button piercing were thoroughly cleaned. Finally, he reached up to wash the leftover makeup off of your face. He touched you like a porcelain doll, worried that you would crack under even the slightest pressure, making you giggle. He flinched, thinking he hurt you, but you grabbed his face in your hands, delivering him a kiss that covered his face in soap.

You both stood there, laughing for a second, relishing the moment before you let out a shy smile. "You can touch my chest now, but make sure you clean my piercings carefully." He looked down at your chest, and now that he'd been given permission, he didn't really know what to do. You could see the puzzled look on his face so you grabbed one of his soapy hands in yours and brought it to your breast. He squeezed experimentally, and you let out a gentle moan. You had been keeping in your arousal to draw out his teasing, but you couldn't hold yourself back as you felt his large hands grasp around your chest and roll your nipple in his fingers.

There was a sweet dichotomy in the harshness of his grasp on your boob, coupled with the gentle twist of your nipple. It was as if he was worried to hurt your piercings, so he made up for it in his grasp. You brought the washcloth down to his cock, hard against his stomach, and began to work him. He whined at the harsh material. "I need to clean you up, baby. You still have a cummy cock. If you beg hard enough when I'm done, I will touch you." You said into his ear as he rested his head on your shoulder.

He was overstimulated, and you could tell, so you decided you wouldn't take as long as you wanted to tease him. But you would still draw it out for your own pleasure. He was bucking and mewling into you as you roughly got him off. It shot you straight to your core, the heat from the shower mixed with his grasp on you, physically and visually, had you closer than you wanted, and deep down you just wanted him to touch you.

When you deemed him clean enough you let the rag drop to the floor. "Beg" you moaned out. "Please, please touch me, I want your hand on me, that's all I want." He whined, bucking into the air. You took pity on him, grasping him with your soap-covered hand. He hissed as your soft touch replaced the rough rag and you could tell he was close. "Touch me, Spencer." You said and his hand shot to your core. His tentative moves giving way to a natural confidence. As he slipped a hand between your folds he could feel you dripping with desire. "O-Oh my god," was all he could stammer out before sinking two of his fingers into your depths, thumb circling your clit. You knew his fingers were long, and you had even fantasized about this exact moment, but nothing could prepare you for his actual length. He had said he did research but that was proven by how quickly he found your g spot and clit. You doubled over in pleasure as his fingers thoroughly fucked you out.

"Spencer, I'm so close, baby. Be a good boy and make me cum." You said, slumping against his shoulder, rubbing yourself against his hand. "Mommy, I'm cumming." He said, looking into your eyes as his body shuttered. His words ricochetted around in your brain, sending you over the edge as you cum all down his hand. You bit into his shoulder to muffle your scream, just as he matched you, cumming down your hand.

You came down from your high as Spencer nearly collapsed onto you. You took extra care in making sure he was all clean before helping him out of the shower and into a towel. He leaned against you the whole time as you got him ready for bed. You forced him to brush his teeth before dragging him to bed.

He sat at the edge, eyes bleary with sleep, taking in the events of the day. You sat behind him, gently toweling off his hair before brushing it and putting lotion on his body. He leaned into your touch, appreciating being cared for, feeling as if everything had been a dream. "C-Can I sleep here? I mean Morgan locked me out and I don't have pants and-" You cut him off with a gentle kiss."Of course, sweetheart, do you want to cuddle? It's ok if you don't or if you want this to be a one-time thing, it's all up to you, baby." You said, gently sweeping his hair out of his face as he looked up with eyes the size of dinner plates. "We can do this more than once? You'll let me? For real?" He asked. "Only if you want to sweetheart. This is all about you." You said, giving him a small smile tinged with a slight sadness. "That's not very fair, I want it to be about you too. What do you want?"

The question knocked you off guard. You're not used to people asking what you want. Usually, people just take and give none in return. The fact that Spencer Reid, your adorable virgin coworker was asking you what you wanted with such a sincere look, caused tears to prick into your eyes. "No one has asked me that in a long time," you smiled, "I would love to do this, and more again with you Spencer. Whenever you want." He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you down so you were lying next to each other on the bed. "Whenever we want" He corrected, cuddling into you.

You surveyed the bite make you left on his shoulder, running your hand over it. "Sorry for marking you up, I didn't mean to hurt you." You said softly as he blushed. "I-I was actually wondering... well... could you maybe give me a hickey? I like that you marked me." He said. You obliged him, giving him long kisses and sucks, gradually working up your force until a large purple bruise had formed on his collar bone. He was gently moaning the whole time, but you didn't want to work him up again as he had already cum twice that night and you didn't think he could handle more. He looked down at it as you pulled away, and you could see a question lingering on his mind.

"What's up?" you asked, smoothing his hair with your hand. "You said you hadn't been asked what you want in a long time, and I was wondering, well... who gave you your piercings?" he asked tentatively and you laughed." You have been reading my book too much, how many chapters have you read?" You said and he looked up at you surprised."You knew? and... well... only 3 chapters. I didn't want to pry into your private life." He said. "You just pried enough to know I want to get pierced by someone?" You asked raising an eyebrow. Before he could get an excuse out, you cut him off. "Well for a genius, you obviously didn't read it that carefully. I said I WOULD like to be pierced during sex, meaning I have not before. These are just standard piercings from a piercing shop, not a big deal, I just like the way they look." You said and he let out a sigh of relief. "Why? d'you get jealous?" you questioned him. He looked down and nodded shyly.

"I can be a lot of firsts for you but if you play your cards right, you can be a lot of firsts for me too. You already gave me a first tonight. You called me mommy. No one's done that before but it was really hot. I liked it a lot." You said matter of factly. "But that is a conversation for another day. It is 2 am and we need to be on a flight at 7:30, so let's get some sleep." You said, turning off the lights and cuddling up close to him. In a matter of seconds, you both were asleep, tangled into each other's arms, both of you feeling, for once, safe and sound.

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

Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here

Well wasn't that a doozy. I had so much fun writing that and I think it paid off for sure. Shoot me a message if you want to be added to my beloved tag list, speaking of which.

@spencer-reids-slut @ya-triedit @reidstoychest @flipperpenguins @thatsonezesty13 @jbbarnes-loki @big-galaxy-chaos

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #sub spencer #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #sub!spencer #pervspence #pervespencer #perve spencer reid #perv spencer reid

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stonedregulus · 2 years

Text

Christmas with the Blacks (Part 1)

tw: misgendering, passive agressive/manipulative mother, alcohol, passing mention of smoking, passing mention of drugs

James sat staring up at the townhouse, large green wreaths with perfectly knotted red velvet bows adorned each window. Snow drifted down slowly causing the wreaths to shimmer in the glow from the perfectly hung clear Christmas lights on the roof. How did they even get up there to hang those?

“Very Stepford Wives,” he mumbled under his breath.

“She just likes it to look nice,” Regulus said quietly.

“It does. It looks nice,” James nodded as he turned to smile at his fiancé. “Ready to go in?”

“Sure,” Regulus opened their car door and stepped out into the snow. James pulled his phone out and shot a quick text to Sirius asking when the fuck they were going to arrive before following Regulus up the front steps.

“Just… Wait for a second,” Regulus muttered, pushing a lock of hair behind James’ ear.

“I’m waiting…”

“She… She will probably act like she doesn’t remember you.”

“Well, I’ve only met her once-“

“No, James. She knows who you are, it’s just what she does, okay? It’s to make you feel like you’re not important, like I don’t talk about you, to delegitimize our relationship. It’s a mind game,” Regulus looked at him sadly. “She’s done this with every guy I’ve ever brought home so just… I dunno, I just wanted you to know.”

“Hey,” James cupped his palms around Regulus’ chin and dipped his head to kiss them slowly, rubbing their noses together when they broke apart. “I’m not going anywhere. She can’t scare me away.”

Regulus smiled at him, kissing him once more before turning and knocking loudly on the oversized, antique wooden door. It opened almost immediately, revealing a short, stout man more wrinkled than James had ever seen. His skin was so pale it was almost translucent, and there was more hair on his bushy grey eyebrows than in the wispy white comb-over that barely covered the shiny bald spot on the top of his head.

“Hello, Mister Kreacher. I thought you’d have the day off to spend with your family,” Regulus said with a frown, shaking the old man’s hand as they stepped inside. The sounds of holiday music being played on a piano somewhere in the house reached James’ ears, as did the sound of loud conversation and children playing.

“Oh, Madam Black asked me if I could stay to man the door until five. Then I’ll be off to see the grandkids. How are you, my dear boy? Have you gotten taller still? Or am I shrinking in my old age?”

“Maybe a bit of both,” Regulus chuckled as James grimaced at the use of the word ’boy’. He glanced around the tall, open entryway. He’d expected the home to be very traditional, but it was clear that Regulus had inherited their style from whoever decorated this house. The walls were painted a matte cream, and matte black wainscoting ran three-fourths of the way up the wall matching the wide trim on the oversized cased openings leading off of the hall. The dark wood flooring ran the length of the entryway and up the stairs, which had a transparent black glass half wall running up the side instead of banisters. A large light fixture made of floating transparent black glass orbs hanging from golden rods spanned the length of all five floors.

“Oh!” Mr. Kreacher smiled as he watched James step into the entryway, “Is this the fiancé you told me about?”

“It is. Mr. Kreacher, this is James Potter. James, this is Mr. Kreacher, our butler.”

“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” James shook the old man’s hand before toeing his shoes off on the black stone inlaid mat where Regulus had left their shoes, and began shrugging out of his coat. A brown leather bench sat next to the shoe space and a large circular mirror trimmed in gold hung on the wall above it. James glanced in the mirror quickly, brushing the last remnants of snow out of his curls.

“Yes, Regulus has told me all about you. You make him very happy and I thank you for that.”

“They make me very happy as well,” James looked at Regulus in the reflection and pulled a face. Regulus shook their head solemnly in response as they hung their coat in the hall closet and grabbed James’ out of his hand.

“Everyone is in the study or the lounge, enjoy yourselves. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Mister Kreacher. Enjoy your family time tonight,” Regulus said quietly, grabbing onto James’ hand before dragging him down the hall.

“It’s a lot bigger than it looks from the outside,” James mumbled as Regulus pulled him up the stairs toward the noise.

“Yeah, it’s deceiving,” Regulus nodded as they reached the first long landing, and they pulled him across the threshold from dark hardwood floors onto the cream-colored carpet of what James assumed was the lounge. The entire back wall was floor-to-ceiling windows, and four children had their faces pressed against the glass watching the snow drift down in front of them. There was a roaring fire in a large black stone fireplace on the left side of the room. A cushy oversized brown leather couch and plush cream velvet armchairs made a semi-circle around a short wooden coffee table, and in the corner between the window wall and the fireplace stood a tall flocked tree, perfectly decorated in silver, white, and gold ornaments. Mounds of packages sat below, perfectly wrapped in white, silver, and gold to match. The walls, crown moulding, and ceiling were painted matte black, and a large gold light fixture with oversized bulbs lit the room in a soft warm light.

“Thank fucking god,” a rough voice whispered in James’ ear as he was pulled into a tight hug and his vision was obscured by a maroon sweater.

“Oh, I didn’t think you were here yet,” James chuckled, pulling out of the hug to look at Remus.

“We’ve been here for an hour. Mommy dearest has already made fourteen comments on my parenting choices,” Remus muttered under his breath, rubbing a hand through his chestnut curls before taking a long drink of amber liquid from the low ball glass he was holding.

“Oh, that sounds lovely,” James said sarcastically.

“Uncle Jamie!” A squeal came from a short human that tackled his waist.

“Hey, kiddo!” James laughed, picking Teddy up and placing him on his hip to ruffle his dark brown hair.

“Uncle Jamie, you get to meet my cousins!”

“Oh, well I am very excited to meet your cousins,” James grinned around Teddy at Regulus who was watching them fondly.

“Where’s Harry?” The five-year-old in his arms asked loudly, looking over James’ shoulder.

“Oh, he’s with his mom. Sorry, bud.” Teddy frowned at him and slid off his hip, taking his hand and dragging him over to the other kids standing by the Christmas tree.

“Guys! This is my Uncle Jamie,” He said happily.

“He’s not really your uncle,” a girl with dark black ringlets said, crossing her arms over her emerald green dress.

“Meissa, that’s not nice,” the other girl said quietly, tugging on the gold ribbon that was tied in a bow at the end of her caramel braid.

“Well, he’s not, Dora. He’s just his godfather.”

“He’s going to be my uncle! He’s marrying my Uncle Reggie!” Teddy said loudly, sticking his tongue out at Meissa who rolled her eyes and turned back to watch the snow.

“I remember you,” the little boy with platinum blonde hair said quietly.

“I remember you too, Draco. Are you having a good Christmas?” James asked, glancing up at Regulus who had followed them. Draco shrugged and stepped around him to hug Regulus who had dropped onto their knees to be the right height.

“How’s my favorite godson?” Regulus asked, hugging him tightly.

“I’m your only godson,” Draco said, muffled into Regulus’ shoulder.

“And you’re still my favorite,” Regulus said quietly. “Did you get presents from your parents already?”

“Yeah. I got an iPad.”

“An iPad?” Regulus looked at James and rolled their eyes.

“Yeah. I wanted a dog. But dad said no.”

“Oh… Well, buddy… Dogs are a lot of work, you know?” Draco sighed and pulled away from Regulus, staring at them with sad grey eyes.

“Yeah, I know. Come on Teddy, let’s go find something to play with.” He grabbed Teddy’s arm and pulled him out of the room.

“An iPad?” James asked under his breath, standing up with Regulus as they watched the boys leave the room. Regulus flopped down on the couch next to Remus and took the glass out of his hand, downing it in one gulp.

“Well, that was rude. But also, mood,” Remus said, grabbing the crystal decanter off the coffee table and pouring a new glass for himself and filling the one in Regulus’ hands.

“Sorry. You know what it’s like dealing with my family. Where is my brother?”

“Outside smoking with Andy and Ted.” Remus poured another glass for James and handed it to him as he sat down next to Regulus.

“Smoking or smoking?”

“Please. If it was pot would I still be in here?” Remus asked under his breath, glancing at Meissa and Dora as they left the room, elbows linked with each other.

“Very true,” Regulus nodded. “Where is everyone else?

“They were in the study-”

“Sweetheart! You’re here!” Regulus stood up quickly, setting their glass down on the table before stepping around Remus’ legs and pulling their mother into a tight hug. James sat his own glass down and stood up, glancing at Remus who smirked at him around his glass. Walburga’s black curls cascaded over Regulus’ shoulder as she hugged them, and she rocked back and forth briefly before releasing them just to run her fingers through their curls.

“Tu es trop maigre. You’re too thin.”

“Je ne suis pas. I am not.”

She smoothed the waist of her floor-length, velvet, emerald green dress. “Tu es très beau. C'est bon, You look very handsome. This is nice,” She thumbed the collar of the black button-down he was wearing. “Je pensais que tu allais amener quelqu'un avec toi? I thought you were bringing someone with you?”

“J'ai fait. J'ai amené James. I did. I brought James.”

“Qui est James? Who is James?” Walburga asked, tilting her head to the side slightly as she raised an eyebrow at them.

Regulus huffed, “Ne fais pas ça. Don’t do that.”

“Ah, oui. Le fiancé, Ah, yes. The fiancé,” She stepped past them into the room, holding out a hand to James. “Nice to meet you, James. I’m Walburga, Regulus’ mother.”

“Yes, we’ve met before. It’s good to see you again,” James said brightly, watching Regulus press their lips together into a thin line in his peripheral vision.

“Oh? I don’t recall. So, you’re spending Christmas with us, hmm? Your family doesn’t celebrate?” Her voice was kind but her perfectly made-up face looked completely disinterested.

“Oh they do, but my mom knows this is important to me,” James smiled kindly at her.

“Mhmm, well if you indeed end up marrying my son I expect you’ll be spending all of your Christmases here.”

“Mom-” Regulus began to chastise her but Sirius chose that moment to reappear in the doorway.

“Reg! Jim! You’re here!” He squealed, pulling Regulus into a hug before lifting them off the ground.

“Ouch, Ris!” Regulus complained through their laughter, smacking his shoulder a couple of times until he put them down.

“Where is Harry?” Sirius asked, passing his mother to wrap James in his arms.

“He’s with Lily. But she’s going to drop him off here tomorrow,” James muttered, not sure if Walburga knew he even had a son.

“I thought I was going to be meeting my new Grandson today,” she huffed loudly and turned to face Regulus with her hands on her hips. Regulus’ jaw dropped open comically in what James assumed was a mirror of his own face.

“W-what?” Regulus asked, eyes wide with shock.

“Why are you looking at me like that? You said on the phone you were bringing your future step-son.”

Regulus opened and closed their mouth a few times before finally regaining their voice, “I said I would try to bring him along. His mom has visitation today and will be dropping him off tomorrow like James said.”

“Well I guess I need to rearrange the seating chart for dinner since you didn’t let me know sooner,” She stomped out of the room, heels clacking as she stepped into the hallway.

Regulus turned around, wide eyes searching the rest of the group as soon as she was out of earshot, “Okay, what the fuck was that?”

inspiration for the black's townhome:

#mel's 25 days of ficmas #nonbinary!regulus #regulus black #james potter #jegulus #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #starchaser #mwpp era #marauders era #walburga black #teddy lupin #draco malfoy #nymphadora tonks #non magical au #american au #good!walburga #possibly.... ehhhh

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mikrowrites · 3 years

Text

cottages of constellations

c!wilbur x f!reader

warnings: angst, fluffy flashbacks, arson, character death

summary: there’s a place only known by two people, full of sweet memories and domesticity. but the world isn’t sweet anymore, and sometimes violence is the only universal language. rather, Sophie visits the cottage she and Wilbur shared before the war, and is met by an unlikely guest.

might make a part two w doomsday and revivebur, we shall see...

Y/n sighed, sitting upon her horse as the wind blew across the grassy field. Smoke still rose behind her from fires still not put out long after the destruction, the girl shaking her head to try and absolve the memory from her head.

She gripped the reins, goading the horse to move, Y/n riding across the field. She knew where she needed to go, she knew the coordinates by heart.

No one else knew about the cottage, just two people, and one of them... well, he’s dead. There’s no sugar coating that. It resided far from the server, a little place just for the two of them.

After a few hours, with the sun rising behind, Y/n rode into the woods. She kept going forwards until she reached the river, stopping the horse. She looked forwards, pursing her lips.

The cottage.

“This is the perfect place!”

Wilbur jumped off his horse, pointing to the small clearing along the river.

“You think so?” Y/n asked, walking up beside him to stare at the landscape.

“Of course.” He emphasized. “But of course perfect is wherever you are.”

Y/n scoffed. “Jesus, that was cheesy.”

Wilbur laughed, running down the landscape towards the small clearing. He turned back, smiling.

“Hey, are you coming?”

Y/n tied her horse to a lead, patting it in thanks before moving forwards, approaching the cottage.

It looked frozen in time, from when Y/n had left it to help fight for L’manburg. The flowers still looked kept, the farm out back unharvested. She smiled as she approached the cottage, taking in the blooming flowers.

“It’s a surprise, so no looking.”

“Okay, okay!” Y/n allowed Wilbur to lead her over outside the cottage.

Wilbur stopped. “Okay, you can look.”

Y/n opened her eyes, walking over to peer at several brightly colored flowers planted around the cottage’s exterior. The hues painted the landscape, causing her jaw to drop at the beauty.

“Do you like it?” Wilbur nervously asked, Y/n whipping her head around to cast him a bright smile.

“I love it, Wilbur.”

Y/n pushed the oak door open, the hinges creaking. She let out a few coughs as dust invaded her senses, stepping into the cottage. the lanterns were flickered out, pots of plants and flowers left withered and dead.

She walked past a set of bookshelves, running her fingers across the spines of the books.

Wilbur and Y/n sat together, books in each of their hands as they read and relish each other’s company. A kettle of water was being heated in the kitchen, the sun filtering through the windows.

Y/n flipped a page, not noticing as Wilbur’s eyes lifted from the pages to her face, studying every bit of her. A soft smile crossed his face as he studied her soft green eyes, the bridge of her nose, her eyebrows that were furrowed in concentration.

Suddenly her eyes flicked up, Wilbur’s face going red. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing! Nothing, no, not at all, no, uh—“Wilbur smiled sheepishly. “You’re... you’re just so ethereal right now.”

It was Y/n’s turn to blush as she tried to hide her cheeks behind the book, the boy laughing.

Y/n grasped a rung of the ladder in her hand, sighing for a moment before pulling herself up. Each step up the ladder her heart quickened, her lips trembled.

She climbed into the loft area, her breath catching in her throat.

The bed was still perfectly made from the day she left it. The sunset reflected perfectly into the room from the large glass window, casting the room into a beautiful orange hue. Y/n turned and saw the chest in the corner, the sight bringing her to her knees.

The letters.

“I’ll write you so many letters, Y/n/n!” Wilbur insisted, grasping her hands. “Every day! Until you can join me, we can send those letters.”

Y/n nodded eagerly. “I’ll miss you, Wil.”

The boy pulled her into an embrace, the girl burying her face in his shirt. He smiled, tracing circles into her back comfortingly. “A letter a day for you, until we see each other again.”

And a letter a day she received.

The letters came daily, some recalling the events of the day, some poems, some love letters. Y/n read each letter enthusiastically, hearing of Wilbur’s adventures and the people he encountered. The nation he was creating, L’manburg.

Then, after receiving a letter detailing the start of the war for L’manburg, Y/n packed her bag, took her horse, and left for the server. She fought alongside Wilbur and the others, resisting for independence.

Y/n’s hands trembled as she sifted through and read each letter, the open pieces of parchment cast about the floor in front of her. Her heart ached as she read the words of a man whom she had lost so long ago, so long before his death. The Wilbur that had wrote Y/n songs and poems declaring his love and admiration had died in that war, leaving a man she could hardly recognize.

The orange glow of the sun was fading from the room, darkening the inside of the cottage. Y/n felt tears gather in her eyes as she finished reading the last letter, two teardrops pattering on the wood floor. The letter fluttered from her hand onto the ground with the rest, the girl wiping the tears from her cheeks.

She stood, looking out the window and noting how night was fast approaching. Y/n frowned, reaching into her pocket to produce a box of matches, walking over the the bedside lantern to light it. She struck the match, the flame igniting, lighting the lantern.

Y/n went to shake out the match before freezing, her eyes fixed upon the yellow light of the small flickering flame.

The fire crackled softly as melodic guitar chords filled the night with sweet music. The river rushed by near them, as well as the sounds of the rustling leaves in the wind, creating an orchestra of soothing sounds.

Y/n smiled, closing her eyes and resting her head against Wilbur’s shoulder as he strummed the guitar. They sat on a blanket in front of the fire, one of Wilbur’s coats draped over the girl’s shoulders.

Peace. Both felt total and complete peace.

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” Y/n mused, staring up at the stars.

“Maybe, someday, we will. We’ll just lay and chart constellations.” Wilbur responded confidently.

Y/n smiled, closing her eyes and letting the sounds of Wilbur’s guitar and the campfire lull her to sleep.

“I’d like that.”

The lit match felt heavy between Y/n’s fingers, the girl sitting amongst the countless letters once more. Night had fallen, the stars dotting the sky. Y/n stared out at the stars, catching sight of constellations and clouds and the moon.

She reached for a letter, parting her lips.

“You lied to me.”

Y/n stood once more and let the letter meet the match, the paper going up in flames. She dropped it, the flaming parchment falling to the floor and igniting the rest of the precious letters that could have redeemed Wilbur.

She stepped back, watching as flames set to the wood of the room, the bed, the carpet. The girl spared the room one last look before climbing down the ladder, throwing the match onto the bookshelf, and walking out of the cottage. Y/n walked backwards, watching as surely the cottage was caught in a fury of flames.

Y/n finally let herself breathe, exhaling deeply as if a weight had lifted off her chest. She watched her old home burn, finally feeling a sense of finality.

“You sure did a number on that house.”

Her eyes widened, spinning and quickly unsheathing her sword and raising it to the person behind her’s neck. Y/n’s eyes hardened, glaring at the unwanted visitor.

“What the fuck are you doing here.” She spat.

She could almost see Dream’s smile from under his mask. “Wilbur sure did love his secrets. Was will to impart a few to me in exchange for some TNT. I figured you might be here.”

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows. “He... he told you about the cottage?”

“Y/n... he told me everything.” Dream responded. She slowly lowered her sword, stepping away from Dream. “I understand everything now. Your blind devotion to him, the loyalty. The server that drove him to betray that trust.”

“You did.” Y/n insisted. “You drove him to his death. You caused all of this.”

“Wilbur made his own decisions.” Dream shrugged. “And as I can see now, so can you.”

Y/n turned to look back at the fire. “So, you’re here to kill me then, yeah?”

“No, I’m not.” Dream quickly replied, Y/n looking back at him. “I’m here to make you an offer.”

“An offer? What the hell does that mean?” She scoffed.

Dream approached her. “They’re rebuilding L’Manburg as we speak. They never learn, they never understand. They call Wilbur insane, yet maybe he was the most sane of us all. He saw and understood the truth, and that scared them. So here’s what I offer you, Y/n. Help me take them down. I’ll pay you a good price.”

“What could you pay me that’s worth my time?” Y/n raised her eyebrows, crossing her arms.

Dream reached into his pocket, throwing a few netherite ingots and several diamonds onto the grass in front of her. Y/n’s eyes widened slightly, looking up at him. “There’s so much more where this came from. And better yet,” Dream tilted his head slightly as he held a bundle of fabric to her, the brown shades and patches so very familiar; Wilbur’s coat. “you can finish what Wilbur started.”

Y/n stared wordlessly at the piece of clothing held out in front of her, before closing her eyes.

“Wil?” Y/n wandered over to where Wilbur sat in the darkness of Pogtopia, the girl kneeling down next to him.

“Hey, Y/n/n.” He smiled tightly, sitting forwards. “What’s up?”

The girl smiled sadly. “I don’t know. I just... everything’s all wrong. I don’t know how to fix it.”

The man pondered her words, considering how the events of the next few days would play out. The heartache and betrayal.

It was no secret Wilbur and Y/n had been drifting apart. The lingering trauma of her torturous life in Manburg and the loss of her first two canon lives, him grieving the loss of his country. They were both hanging on by a thread, and comfort was hard to be sought between the two of them.

Wilbur knew he would die soon. He knew that the end of his story was approaching, but maybe, he could have one more sweet memory with the girl he had fallen helplessly in love with.

“Let’s go look at the stars.”

Y/n perked up, her featured contorted in surprise. “What?”

“Like we used to, by the river. Let’s go stargazing.” Wilbur stood, holding out his hand to help her up. The girl took it, the boy pulling her up to standing and intertwining his fingers in hers, pulling her through the ravine.

They trudged up the stone stairs and through the hidden doorway, out into the open air. Wilbur led Y/n into a clearing, where he shrugged off his jacket, laying it on the ground. He beckoned her over, the two laying on top of the fabric and staring up.

The sky was exceptionally clear that night, the stars glittering beautifully against a dark sky. Wilbur turned to watch Y/n stare up at the stars, noting her lips twitch softly as she began to list constellations under her breath. He took her hand once more, looking up at the stars.

That was the last moment they shared together before he died.

Y/n opened her eyes, looking up at Dream, who held out a hand to shake. She sheathed her sword, nodding slightly before taking the jacket and reaching her hand out, clasping his palm in a firm shake.

The man chuckled from behind his mask, stepping backwards. “You’ll be hearing from me. Goodbye, Y/n.” With that he left, the girl left standing alone on the riverbank. She stood still for a beat before bending down, moving the items to her inventory, shrugging on the trench coat, and turning back to the cottage.

It was nearly burnt to the ground at this rate, the flowers outside catching. Y/n swore for a moment she could see a glimpse of a tall boy in a yellow sweater in the flames, but brushed it off. She made the trek over to her horse, climbing onto the saddle.

She cast one more look at the remains of the cottage before cracking the reins, riding away.

It was time to finish what Wilbur had started.

a/n: i wrote this before the philza lore where wilbur fabricated history in the letters, so just assume that wilbur was truthful in these letters and y/n arrived directly before the duel and the betrayal.

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #c!wilbur x reader #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot imagines #c!wilbur soot x reader #c!wilbur soot imagine #wilbur imagine #dsmp x reader #dsmp imagine #dsmp imagines #dream smp x reader #dream smp imagine #dream smp imagines

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katsukikitten · 4 years

Text

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, mentions of animal harm, sexual themes, god/fantasy au for BNHAREM this badboi is 8k so enjoy~

The sound of a wind chime echoes across the small field just outside your home. The breeze carries the smell of summer bloomed blossoms and with it the threat of rain as it comes from down the mountain.

A soft brown creature catches your eye as your mother picks flowers and berries for the festival.

“Bunbun!” You exclaim, pointing as you tug on your mother’s tattered kimono, she responds with a soft hmm. Her eyes still focused on the wide range of flowers although her vision blurs.

But at least you weren’t picked for this festival, no it would be many years before you would be in the running. Your mother’s only wish was for you to be unfavorable. Mother is so engrossed that she does not see you slip away, slowly following the bunny into the forest.

Soon the soft brown creature begins to hop, faster and faster as you giggle running full speed ahead. Not noticing how the trees thicken or how dark eyes seem to peer through the trees, their mawls salivating with unsated hunger. With gnashing teeth they stalk ever closer all the while you rush to catch the creature just for it to jump high into the air. Nose diving straight for the ground, you copy its actions but the bunny is faster than you. Slipping into the burrow with ease as you fall face first into dirt and rocks.

“O..ow. Momma!” You sniffle, turning around for some much needed motherly love, but instead of your mother hunched over collecting boring things in her basket you are met with a dense forest. The setting sun washes over the trees giving the thick pines and maples a ghoulish red hue. Suddenly you are hyper aware of the sounds around you, a stick snaps in the brush. Your head turns as if you were a startled deer, eyes wide, heart racing as you strain to hear over the rushing blood in your ears. Dark figures move in the long shadows and haunting laughs echo around you. Beady eyes shine in the darkness causing a small whimper to leave your lips. Acting on instinct you rush to your feet, running through the woods. Briers snatch at your small ankles, leaving angry red lines in their wake, wanting nothing more than to make you a child of the forest.

“MOOOM!” You shout, panting as they force you further into the mountain, you take a quick left when one jumps from the right causing you to trip over a branch falling into a small clearing, faintly you hear the rush of a spring.

Scuffling rouses a sleepy garnet haired man who lounges in a steaming hot spring, that’s sprinkled with fallen petals of mountain flowers. He thinks to dismiss it until a scream cuts through the serenity of the pines. Whatever animal it is, it sounds small and this stirs something in the mountainous man. Sadly this was the circle of life, he reminds himself as he sinks deeper into the burning hot spring.

“MOMMA HELP PWEESE!!” You scream, trying to get up but this time you are entangled in a briar patch, thorn and vine twisting around your tender skin. It seems the wicked green plant will have its wish.

All the while the shadows stalk closer, their bright beady eyes blown wide as their jaws unhinge for their meal. They get on their haunches to launch themselves at you until something causes them to freeze. The trees shake around you while the Earth rumbles as if there were a thunder storm beneath the rich dirt.

“Hello little flower. Are you lost?” You whip your head towards the sound. Lip quivering as you stare up at a tall, built man. But it was his eyes that stood out the most.

His glistening rubies glow as fading sunlight catches his hair, emphasizing that the strands are a red so deep one could mistake it as black. Your eyes play tricks on you as the air seems charged and yet calm, giving him a surreal aura. He stands tall, half relaxed as one arm is lazily hanging from his dark rose kimono while the rest of his sculpted body is exposed to the slowly cooling air. You weigh your options as best you can before you scramble to your savior. Clinging to his leg as your tears begin to stain his kimono.

He breathes in deeply and before he can speak the dark figures vanish, melting into the shadows that stretch in the last winking light of the Sun. He crouches down to you, pushing hair past your face.

“Don’t cry little flower. Here.” A beautiful flower crown appears in his hands. The white petals with contrasting amethyst stripes down the center seem to have their own shimmering bio-luminescence making it feel other worldly as he places it atop your head. He chooses the dietes flower for its symbolism and rarity, unknowingly sealing your fate.

“Is that better, little one?” You nod in response, sniffling softly as he scoops you up walking you until he can just see what must be your home through the thick trees. He watches what he assumes your mother to panic, as the village shouts what must be your name.

“You’ll have to walk the rest of the way okay little flower?” He sets you down gently before you give a big nod. Cold bare feet crunching the leaves against the forest floor.

You come into the clearing of your home, the sea of yellows, pinks and reds winking in the stark light of the moon.

“Momma…” You call softly, the world stops turning on its axis before she rushes to you, pulling you into her arms before her eyes are filled with overflowing fear. Fat droplets leave her long lashes as she snatches the crown away, but it is too late. It has been seen by all.

“Oh she is favored by the Gods.” Someone comments.

“If she grows into anything like her mother she will be the best choice to appease the Mountain God!"

"Let us mark this day and the family name so we may remember 16 years from now."

They continue to gossip as your mother squeezes you tight enough that it hurts. Her mind racing as she carries you inside, she tucks you in without a word of a scolding. Coaxing you to drink some lavender tea that pulls you into a deep sleep beneath the symphony of crickets and the like.

You do not hear your mother return and if you do, you guess she is doing her nightly routine. Fluffing your blankets and making sure your futon is warm enough but what you weren’t expecting was the cold bite of a blade pressing into the flesh above your left eyebrow.

"Mom…Momma’s sorry baby.” She chokes on her sobs as she pulls the cool metal hard and deep, crying so loud she can barely hear your scream.

But that was how long ago? Almost two decades? You toss a rock into your reflection, distorting your marred face as your childhood flashes before your eyes.

You remember there was shouting, lots of shouting of how you are now “unfavorable” “dishonorable” “an abomination” the next day and from then it’s a blur of insults and isolation. Nothing but the wind in your hair, the creaking of the trees and a dream of glistening rubies kept you alive, desperate to return to the last time you were happy. Although you were unsure of who you saw in the mountain that fated night, a part of you could guess. It had to be the Spirit of the Mountain, Kirishima. Because who else actually looked like the painted scrolls that littered the village and shrines? In your opinion they had his image all wrong.

He does not scowl or wear a grimace, no his smile is sharp toothed and bright. You sigh, wondering if you will ever bump into him again.

An inhuman scream tears through the serenity of the babbling brook causing a chill to run through your spine. If you had to guess it was most likely a fox or wolf finally catching up to its meal.

“They must eat too…” You murmur to yourself, drawing your knees to your chest. The wind rustles the leaves overhead giving you sharp visions of beady black eyes from the past.

“Don’t let it get away!” A shout from your left before the animal comes scurrying through the brush, running smack into your lap. It is a small fox, its tail missing and in its wake a crude weeping cut. Your vision blurs red as you take off your top layer of kimono, wrapping the poor thing in the brown fabric.

The culprits come into view, the village elder’s son holds the tail while his favorite goon holds the knife. Red falls to the Earth in nauseating droplets.

“Well well well, looks like we found something else we can carve up huh?” The goon asks with a smile, “Just keep quiet freak."

The elder’s son is hesitant, something odd grows in his eyes and chest. Suddenly the tail feels a lot heavier than what it was moments ago, especially so under the weight of your single gaze. Your left eye although clouded over seems to stare straight into his soul. Can you see the desperation he has? Worst yet can you see how tainted he is?

"Oi Kenji” The goon nudges him, clearly only hanging around the future heir for his influence and with it a hope of immunity to terrorize as he pleases.

The motion brings him back to the present while a plan begins to form in his head. Would anyone believe the dishonorable, disowned freak over him? Could he do things to you that no matter how loud you screamed the truth it would fall on deaf ears?

His cruel smile is an answer in of itself as he takes a step towards you, it wouldn’t be hard to make you his. You take a step back, mindful of the sun’s position and your surroundings. They both creep nearer as you hold the shaking animal to you, you turn on your heel rushing through the woods. They were fast and well trained however no one knew these woods like you did.

It was as if you knew of every fallen leaf or broken branch as you rushed through the deep green leaves. Dodging low branches that they hit face first, holes they tripped in and even a dead deer carcass that you bound in a single leap. You hear a crash and one of them gag as your feet urge you forward, looking over your shoulder.

That is until your run into something so solid you fall right onto your ass, the small animal gives a whimper on your lap.

“I could have sworn…” The sound of rushing water swallows up the rest of your thought as you look up to what you’ve run into. Wholly expecting a tree stood a man, with deep garnet hair and a sharp toothed smile. Immediately your blood turns cold, the air about him seeming other worldly as the forest quiets and slows in his presence.

“Ah, are you alright?” He asks, extending his hand to you, gingerly you take it. His calloused hand is warm and strong as he lifts you to your feet, ruby eyes staring at the bundle in your hand.

“May I?” Hesitantly you pass the bundle, he frowns at its contents before setting the small fox on the ground, waving his fingers to heal its wound. The fox looks at the healer, seemingly giving him a small bow before rushing back into the safety of the brush.

“The fox told me what you did. Thank you.” His smile is blinding and dazzling. He offers you a single white flower, the amethyst stripe up the middle causes your stomach to tighten.

“Do you always give out good fortune?” You ask quietly, turning the wild iris over in your hand. He laughs, if he recognizes you he does not show it but you are sure this is the man who gave you an abundance of “good fortune” years ago. Your scar burns from the thought. Your mother did tell you stories of the Gods playing cruel jokes.

But was Kirishima truly a maleficent God?

You bit your lower lip. A warm hand cups your chin, a soft smile on his face as he turns your left side to you.

“Do I know you dear heart?” His voice is soft, eyes half mast almost lazily gazing upon your features. You tuck the iris in your ear and it seems to jog his memory.

“Little flower!” His voice becomes larger, sharper, as his thumb swipes over the deep fissure on your cheek “What happened?!"

His touch is comforting but not enough you wish to relive the trauma again.

"I wish not to speak about it.” Your eyes catch the position of the sun. Gently you step from his soft grip.

“I must return home for dinner before I cause my mother to worry.” You bow formally, presenting the flower “Thank you Kamisama but I cannot accept your blessing."

You stand like that long enough your back begins to hurt causing a deep fear to flow through your veins.

Was he angry that you dared to reject him?

Your feet burn with the urge to run but you dismiss it, finally his large fingers grasps at the small stem holding the rarity in his hands. Eyes roving over you, you peek up to check his gaze and while he looks level headed to you, you decide to leave before you find out if he isn’t.

He stares after you, eyes curious and yet not surprised as to how he could have forgotten about someone as remarkable as you.

But how could he remember?

You are nothing more than a mere mortal and you were a child at that. A blip, a hazy day dream even, in his infinite lifetime.

So what interest would he have in a life so fleeting that should he rouse from a nap he would be meeting your great grandchildren who could remember nothing more about you than your name?

And yet when he looked at you now, as a full grown woman, something bloomed in his chest. Your scar adding to your mystic beauty, especially after what the fox had told him.

His ruby eyes return to the flower as he ponders over your question in his head.

A week or so passes, as you’re sure to avoid the Mountain God. Still fearing he may be angered by your rejection.

But you cannot stay from the depths of the forest long. Staring down at your reflection in the water you sigh, running your hand through the cool water debating if you will bathe in one of the many hot springs tonight. A scurrying in the bush pulls your attention to the here and now. Muscles rigid as you worry it will be an encounter with the heir and his goon, shimmering orange rushes from the brush easing your mind.

"Ah hello friend!” You call and the fox stops in its tracks, task or hunt at hand long forgotten, “Did His healing power work?"

You cannot help the glee in your voice as you see your friendly fox sit near your feet, it swishes its tail and just like that another seems to appear. Wagging like an opposing pendulum beside the other.

"You have two tails now, oh” You give a sly smile, “Are you here to steal my liver?"

The kitsune chuckles at your joke, his little laugh echoing in the clearing. The haunting sound brings an odd comfort to you as he tilts his head as if someone is whispering to him. He gives a small nod before approaching, setting something in your lap that his black lips were not holding before.

A note of sorts and the flower he attempted to offer you earlier. The note reads in glowing golden red hue,

"Let’s start over again. Tea by the blue moon wild flowers at midnight.”

You sigh deeply, placing the card and flower deep in your tattered kimono with the thought of not showing up. Why would a God want tea with you? You who wears a scarred face and milky white eye. You give the kitsune a soft pat before standing, brushing the dirt from your deep brown kimono.

You spend the rest of the day as you told your mother you would, picking flowers to both practice arranging and drying for the upcoming festival. There were only a few weeks left and you had done zero practicing as you has promised. Your mother claimed this would help earn your keep with the village but you were sure that was more for her peace of mind than the truth.

With your basket heavy with the finest of flowers you head towards home, careful to avoid the path you last saw the God on.

And anytime you had thought you caught wind of his intoxicating smell of soft musk, pine and the biting threat of snow you turned on your heel as quickly and quietly as humanly possible, ignoring the gemstone gaze that bore into your back.

After a small dinner with your mother and hours of twisting flower streams to make crowns of, you finally get the chance to lie down to sleep.

But sleep doesn’t come, instead you’re wide awake as the moon leaks in the through the small cracks in the walls. Dust dancing on the low light as you sigh as if you were in love.

Deep, unsatisfied and often.

The invitation burns in the folds of your kimono and suddenly you are filled with action. Gently you rise, fumbling with your hair as best you can before you mumble curses to yourself. Placing a practice crown on your head and rouging your lips with the remnants of berries before you set out into the darkness.

Your feet seem to guide you on your own as you weave through the trees. Fireflies lazily floating in the air as crickets scream their symphonies at your feet. Finally you come across the mostly hidden spot.

Hesitantly you step into the clearing, blue moon flowers glitter in the light of the quarter moon as if sprinkled with stardust. Their silver sheen invites you in further as a wind sweeps through the patch. Your eyes rove over as you look for the Mountain God. When your search comes up empty you feel your heart free fall into your stomach. Heated foolishness creeps into your throat and cheeks.

Why would a God invite a mortal?

Blinking away hurt tears you turn briskly, stopping yourself from running from the clearing incase he is watching for the sake of his cruel joke.

That is until a deep voice rings out, vibrating the very bones in your body with a comforting hum.

“Little flower, Are we not having tea?” His tone is innocent and when you turn around with half a mind to fuss you see it. A beautiful hand woven rug that holds a low tea table, atop the dark wood sits finary. Foods, desserts and tea ware that would make the emperor jade green with envy.

“This is…” You whisper but he reaches his hand towards you, gently guiding you to a plush cushion, his strong hand wrapped steadfast around yours. He waits until you are seated comfortably before he sits close to you.

Almost too close, his shoulder could easily brush against yours in movement and it does as it takes you an eon to realize what exactly he is doing.

Preparing the tea. Immediately your stomach flips as shaking hands fumble to stop him, grabbing onto his large hands with a fervor unmatched. A quizzical look before a sly smirk paints his handsome features.

“A..a..a God should not be serving a m..mortal tea.” You trip over your words feeling self conscious as your palms feel is if they are sweating. Shame radiates through your chest as if a hot rod were shoved through your heart.

“Then let us not be a God and a mortal.” He smiles, lips curving upward gently as his shining teeth glint in the low light. You should be scared, frightened that you may have insulted him or worse yet earned the infamous Wrath of the Mountain God.

But you aren’t, if anything you’re on the complete opposite of the spectrum as the breeze shifts his scent closer to you. The forest alive at night, the sharp smell of snow mingling with the gentle fragrance of bloomed flowers.

Suddenly you feel dizzy and his next words do not help.

“Let us be more.” Again you feel the comforting hum in your chest, you decide now is a good time to let go of his hands.

He sets the tea before you, again you are faced with a pitiful reflection. You blow on the green liquid disrupting the steam and with it your image. It is quiet save the sounds of late night summer although it is not uncomfortable silence that passes over the hours between the two of you. It is easy as the two of you sip your tea and for a moment you think you’ve forgotten the sin you’re committing by forgetting who he really is. Occasionally the two of you would share a laugh, his shoulder brushing against yours before he comes closer, close enough your forearms touch as they rest against the table. His skin feels warm and smooth like a rock baking in the sun, his smile dazzling as his face seems to get closer. His finger hooks into your palm, lazily tracing the lines as if they were an old and familiar map.

“Why do you love the mountain forest so much?” His voice is so close you feel breath fan your cheek. Butterflies take rapid flight in your stomach.

Was it that obvious? I guess it would be with how much of your life you spent within these thick trees.

“There is so much to love in this place of solace. Every new clearing brings something of wonder. A waterfall, a field of flowers, a hot spring to soak your aching bones. Even just a small fawn grazing on the seeds the trees and flowers offer is more beauty than I can imagine."

His fingers stop, leaving an odd tingling sensation causing your nerves to stand on edge. Attempting to reach towards the soft touch once more. Kirishima looks to the moon and how it begins to set.

"Another day little flower.” He whispers, voice honeyed yet sharp as you find yourself standing on the edge of the woods, staring at your small home. You turn in a full circle and see no sign of the God causing your heart to grow heavy. Gripping at your chest as you make your way back towards your home, you thought maybe he didn’t like your answer. Maybe he read your honesty as a poor attempt of flattery.

What you don’t know is that he liked your answer a little too much.

It isn’t long before you find yourself in the same patch of flowers at a questionable hour sitting beside Kamisama himself. You swallow thickly, nails biting into your palm as again he pours your tea.

Is this right? Would your mother approve?

You were sure she wouldn’t, and not from your lack of manners but seeing the very man she so feared and having tea with him nonetheless.

“Something troubling you my blossom?” Flustered over his familiarity you stammer out a response.

“Just…just thinking.” You offer a shy smile as he returns a wolfish grin, you do not know that he can hear just how fast your heart is beating.

“Hmmm.” The hum rumbles in your own chest and large bottle flies take flight in your stomach. He brushes some hair out of your face so he can better see it. He smiles softly.

“I’ve been curious about why you are collecting so many flowers lately.” Rigid beneath his touch you fear you have angered him but it won’t be long before you realize just how infatuated he is with you.

“A festival for you Kirishima, Kamisama of the Mountain.” He lets his fingers play and twist in your hair. You try not to look away.

“You’ll be the guest of honor then?” His fingers brush down your heated cheeks.

Despite the intimacy of both his touch and proximity you give a loud laugh. Eyes looking at a blurred green version of yourself in your cup.

“No, I’m sure I could never be favored.” At least not by the villagers.

But you seemed to be favored by the Gods. You swallow thickly, of all the talk and importance of the festivals your mother never let you attend, so you are unsure what happens.

While you’re left home alone you could hear the loud beats of the drum, their feet hitting against the stone of the square and their joyous singing.

Sometimes you think you hear a scream.

But you cannot reflect on it long as a pair of soft lips press against your cheek. Then when you do not move they graze along your jawline before finding their way to your pulse. You give a small gasp and when he gives a small suck you a raspy moan. He growls against your throat, a sudden heat grows between your legs and you swallow desire whole.

He feels how tense you have become and eases up from your throat. Guiding you by your chin so you may face him before he steals away your first kiss.

Not that you would have given it to anyone else.

The next month is a game of cat and mouse. Both of you eagerly seeking the other out, yet making it seem as if it were a mere accidently. All the while a now three tailed fox smiles knowingly. It’s a blur of tea, mountain top views over valleys, and deep passionate kissing.

But this last encounter truly was by pure chance for both parties.

The pungent smell of sulfur tickles your nose, although this is the least offending spring. Its water a lovely milky blue that you’ve decorated with a few left over flowers heads. You sigh as you sink deeper into the borderline scalding water being sure to soak your aching hands and feet.

You’re thankful that the rushing water settles here in this cluster of rocks despite the small current that carries it away just a few feet down. A sigh leaves your body, eyes lingering to the light of the full moon before they flutter close. Your guard completely down as you know no one is going to be wandering around these woods.

It is the night of the festival after all.

And no one was sure as hell gonna be out looking for you.

Not even Kamisama as you were sure he would oversee the festival, it was held in his name was it not?

Sleep threatens to pull you beneath its veil so much so you do not hear the footsteps that approach.

He steps closer to the spot of his favorite spring and when he sees your head titling back onto the rocks, a fine blush blooms on his cheeks.

“My little hana?” His voice is soft yet concerned, startling you. The water splashes around as you turn to face him.

If you were flustered before you’re beyond that now. He has his back to you as he gives your privacy, face slightly turned but his eyes are not overlooking his shoulder. Your eyes widen as they take in His beauty. His hair tied up in a messy bun, winking blacks and deep reds beneath the moonlight. His broad shoulders exposed, eyes trailing down his sculpted back to see his bare buttocks. Strong, thick legs holding up this God of a man.

Well he was a God wasn’t he?

“Are you alright, lovely blossom? I didn’t know you’d be here I can come ba…"

"No. No no!” You interrupt, “I…"

It’s silent for a moment, lust moves your lips.

"I wouldn’t mind the company.” Your voice is barely heard over the swirling, rushing water.

But the smirk on his soft lips tells you that he had heard you. And he will never forget the invitation.

He turns to join you, your eyes following down the trail of his abs to his pointed V, you do not allow your eyes to travel further south and force them to his face. His glowing eyes bright, two shining rubies lighting up the night. He sinks into the water across from you, letting his arms spread and rest on the rocks.

You release the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Sinking into the water as you realize just how exposed you are. The weight of his gaze is doing something to you.

He keeps his eyes locked on yours, the heat of the spring makes you a bit dizzy and you’re beginning to wonder if it is his merlot eyes that have you on cloud nine.

That have you so bold. Bold enough you float yourself beside him, right into the crook of his arm. He gently slides it around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his chest.

“How was your day my sweet?” His voice is soothing but you’d rather not recount your day or the number of flowers you set just right.

“Boring. Yours Kirishima?” He smiles as you use his name.

“Same.” He places a chaste kiss to your damp hair line. It leaves you wanting more.

“A..again please?” He goes to kiss your forehead again but you tilt your face upward. He smiles, putting his hand at the nape of your neck. Leaning in impossibly slow holding your gaze. His look makes you impossibly higher and then his kisses your lips.

It is soft, it is slow, but each movement of his lips become more feverish, more bold. Like a cracked dam after a rain far too heavy, it is going to burst.

And it does.

Your mouth openes to him and he slides his tongue between your teeth, swirling and tasting your earthly, mortal form. You moan into the kiss, giving him more entrance, your hands clawing at his hair, his back while his hands follow your curves. Running up and down your sides, pinching at your nipples turning you into putty in his hands. You do not resist, you would never deny him and you’re sure he would never take.

He does nothing more than light exploring, commiting your skin to memory. You let out another moan, this one louder than before enticing his primal needs. As his tongue slides over yours his hand snakes to your lower back, pulling you into his lap.

You feel his harden asset resting close to your throbbing sex.

Would…would it be okay to bed a God? For a mortal to be touched by hands that can create and destroy in a matter of nanoseconds?

Suddenly you feel too hot, too flustered, too high as the world spins rapidly on its axis. You push back, gasping for air and immediately his lust is replaced with concern. He sees tears forming in your eyes, signs of some internal battle.

It reminds him of when he pours you a cup of tea but tenfold. He looks up at you, one hand traces down your spine before his other wipes away your tears.

“Blossom for me when you’re ready not when I want you, my little flower.” His voice is soft, reassuring, causing you to cry more. His fingers gently trace your scar, follow your spine, and continue to wipe away your tears when needed.

You nod helplessly, removing yourself from his irresistible lap, he pulls you to cuddle. A soft kiss to your hairline. The moon begins to climb higher in the sky and although your mother will not be home for some time, you still need to beat her home. Maybe he can read minds as he says.

“Let’s meet later tonight? Our usual time after your mother has returned home?” You nod against his chest, slowly stand. He supports your weight as he holds onto your hand as you ease out of the comforting water.

You look for your brown kimono but with every second you cannot find it panic seizes your bones.

“M…my kimono. I…I can’t find it!” You realize you may have misplaced it or worse yet placed it too close to the water.

Oh Kami did it get washed away?

“Flower, love. It is fine. I can help.” He snaps his fingers and you’re adorning the most stunning kimono you’ve ever seen. More so than what any painting of any God and Goddess meeting you’ve ever seen. You twirl in the ombre kimono. It starts out black, like a moonless night at the top before lightening until it is put glowing starlight at your ankles.

“Its gorgeous. But it is too much."

"Nothing is too much for you.” He stands, a kimono appears on his body as well, ombre again, black at his shoulders until it is blood red at his ankles. The bottom reminds you of the first time you had seen him when you were little. When he saved your life, a halo of setting sun emphasizing his status.

“We will meet again?" You nod and he cannot bring himself to say he is going to the annual meeting of the Gods because if he did, with you wearing this star woven kimono, he would whisk you away with him.

"Until we meet again."

With the sound of the window fluttering through the trees you find yourself on the fringes of the woods, just outside your home.

Gingerly you step into the field of flowers, slowly walking towards your house as you relive the time you most felt alive.

His lips, his hands, his body pressed against yours.

So caught up in your daydream, in your promise of later tonight, you do not see the eyes lying in wait.

Those prying eyes take note of your kimono and how it shimmers and shines with an otherworldly glow as you slip into your home.

It isn’t long before you hear a string of screaming and see a set of lights coming your way, close enough you can make out silhouettes and what the woman is screaming.

"SHE IS UNFAVORED! LOOK AT HER SCAR SHE IS TAINTED BEAUTY!” You realize quickly that is the wails of your mother.

Frantically you try to strip yourself of your kimono but a large hand strips away the door. Your faces are illuminated from the soft glow by your ankles making it clear to see a set of hard steely eyes with hurt but never regret as they should.

“Just like I said. A blessed kimono.” Kenji’s voice is as hard as his eyes as his father peers in, he smiles with delight.

“We are surely saved from the drought now. Kenji bring her to the festival."

"No.” Your voice is small, a foreboding dread feeds your panic as your mother cries, restrained by Kenji’s goons. You step back but he lunges for you, squeezing you so tightly you cannot breath.

The walk to the center seems like ages as you kick and scream, crying out for Kirishima.

“Yes call for our God. He will be happy to receive his gift, time is running out.” The elder speaks. You elbow Kenji square in the face, everyone panics as you begin to run. Kenji catches you again. The moon hands high over head, perfectly in the middle of the sky.

“There is no time left. Let’s do it now!” Kenji’s goon from before shouts, sending the crowd into a boisterous agreement.

Kenji withdraws his knife, both of your struggling for power. He leans in close, nose touching yours as the smell of copper and ash cling to his skin.

“You should have just stayed in your place ugly. Should’ve let me have my way.” He slices at you and for a second time a blade marrs your skin.

He is supposed to make this quick for you, one quick motion against your throat. Instead he lets the blade sink deeper, carve harder until his is splatter in your life’s nectar. Only you and your mother cry out. The rest of them pray and sing.

Kenji picks you up and tosses you into the brush of the woods.

“Have her now Kamisama and bless us with rain!” He speaks as if he is the current elder. Grey eyes cold as they look down at you. They retreat to their usual planned activities, dragging your lost mother with them to drink to their heart’s content. To make her watch what an honor it was for her child to have been chosen.

It hurts, Kami it hurts as you drag yourself through the woods. Briars tangle around your quickly growing limp limbs as you pull yourself deeper.

“Kiri…Kirishima!” Your once loud screams turn into hardly more than whispers. But that shouldn’t matter. He should still hear you shouldn’t he?

Was this not his domain? He can hear every rustling leaf, every snap of a twig, surely he could hear the pained cries of his lover.

No, no you shouldn’t call yourself that, you were not his lover, you were just favored by him.

And isn’t that always what you wanted? To be desired? Loved?

This was a festival for Kirishima himself so why did you think any different?

And why do you still call out his name?

Your vision blurs in purplish blues and blacks as you fade in and out, a soft sweet scent is tainted with stinging copper. You cough and more dark liquid sputters from your lips.

It reminds you of his eyes.

Kitsune comes into the clearing helping frantically. But you smile as you notice his fourth tail.

“At least I will not die alone…” You breathe as the fox attempts to lick at your wounds, “Why, why is he so cruel?"

Fat tears fall down your cheeks and the fox panics further. He opens his mouth, his voice comes out gravely and close to a growl without the animosity.

"Master does not know of this, master would never allow this!” He laps at your blood in a desperate attempt to heal you with what little grace he has been bestowed.

But it doesn’t matter as your world fades to black.

Kirishima steps through the portal near the top of the mountain to be met with a horrid sight, not realizing it could be worse than that. Kitsune’s normal Auburn fur is tainted a sticky black substance, Kirishima gets a closer look causing his blood to run cold.

He appears in the field of flowers, following the trail you left as a wispy form of you stands through your drained body.

“No.” Quiet before deafening loud, birds and animals flee away from him, “NO!"

The shades circle the clearing, too afraid to enter but too hungry to leave.

Kirishima shakily grabs onto your glowing hands, tears fall down your cheeks.

"I…I…” Tears prick his eyes, rage washes over his features, “Who?"

Your spirit cannot speak as you are still tethered to your fast cooling body. He follows the direction of your eyes, music and laughing become louder further angering him. A thought occurs to him, he reaches for the small golden chain that is at your spiritual ankle connecting you to your real body, he could keep you here, he could….but before he can break your life’s chain a mist of black appears.

"You know you cannot do that.” From within the mist comes a man with the head of a raven or a tengu, Kirishima is not sure. All he knows is that he loathes to see Death come too close to the things he loves.

“But.."

"Look around you Kirishima-kun. You’ve tried countless times to keep mortals before and what becomes of them? Shades, unwavering, thoughtless hungry shades as I’ve told you. Their spirits are so far corrupted they could never return to the cycle.” Death speaks the truth but it does not stop the anguish that sweeps through his body.

He cannot allow it just yet. He watches as your golden chain is unhooked, you walk backwards, keeping your eyes on your God as Death guides you.

“Until we meet again.” It is a whisper on the wind, a rustle in the leaves, a huff of a nearby fawn and babbling of the hot spring. He nods, eyes glued to you as you fade away into the black mist.

He breathes deeply as he picks you up, cradling your cold body to his hard chest. He walks gingerly with you as if he feared he would wake you, he only had on destination in mind. It does not take long before he is walking towards the center of the small town, houses darkened as the square is full of life. The smell of wine and food waft the cool air.

This only fuels his intentions.

He stands on the fringe of the crowd and it only takes a blink or two before the roaring party dies to deafening silence. People falling to their knees, their foreheads pressed into the bloodied bricks.

“K..Kamisama Kirishima, had we known you would grace…"

"SILENCE!” His voice shakes the very foundations of the homes, the shingles clinking in the wind. The trees quiver in his presence as the Earth seems to roar beneath his feet. His eyes are hard and dark like raw diamonds as he looks over their merriment shredding them with his gaze alone. The moon above suddenly glows red as if washed over with your blood, illuminating him in an ominous tone. The hue paints the village in eerie light as it fully bares witness to the wrath of the mountain God.

“Is this how you honor me?” A rhetorical question as he wonders how long this had been going on, the shades most likely and happily, eating the remains before Kirishima could have ever found out. He shakes, unable to reign in his rage.

“Look at her.” Three words, three words has well over fifty people shivering. Eyes barely coming up to look at the limp woman in his hands, skin already graying. Both eyes now clouded over and lips stained a peculiar red. Their eyes shift to the God they worship, the one they had been giving their most beautiful women too.

He holds eye contact with each and every one of them for a moment, staring into their black souls with a malice that could maim. He spies your mother, his lip snarls as he thinks of your scar.

He begins to wonder if this is why she had done it. He finds the elder, the one who wears the fine kimono. One of the few garments that is not tattered, dirtied or sullied red. He grinds his teeth.

“May you never forget this moment in all of your reincarnations. May you never forget her face and may you always feel an inkling of what I’ve felt.” The people weep, not for their own lives but from the feeling of the God’s heart overflowing in them despite him never shedding a tear. They do not ask forgiveness.

They cannot ask for forgiveness. Just as he sealed your fate all those years ago, he is sealing theirs now. With a stomp of his foot the Earth rumbles, slowly opening up into a jagged mawl. People scream as they reach for one another, grasping onto nothing. Only your mother waits for death silently. Her own tears streaming down her face as she etches into her last moments the sight of her failure. Of you taken from the world too soon.

The village is swallowed whole and now that it is over, he is still unhappy. The void in his cheat is far deeper than the Earthy chasm before him. He cries out in anguish pulling you impossibly closer. A fissure runs through the ground, deep and fast through the next village and the one after that.

In a loud puff of smoke a man appears beside the mountain God, he pulls down his black hood and his hair shines gold in the moonlight. His eyes like molten lava gleam with destructive glee. The Earth threatens to crumble beneath the new God’s feet, the dark chasm glows a bright hot red in his presence.

“No one ever strikes your ire.” His voice is dark yet excited, “And never enough to summon me. Need some pointers from the God of Destruction himself shitty hair?”

“Bakugou, I…” The mountainous man’s voice cracks, causing his friend’s brow to furrow. Bakugou takes in the sight of you withered in hands through ghastly means. Of the decimation and the level of it. Reaching over to another village and possibly the next two. This level of destruction would get the Mountain God into a lot of trouble but it was evident he did not care. Bakugou gives his back to the sight and finally speaks, lying a warm hand on his friend’s broad shoulder.

“If anyone asks, I destroyed the villages.” Molten eyes watch tears fall onto you and the ground beneath his friend’s feet. The golden haired man sighs, gently taking you from the arms of his friend who tries to desperately hold on to what is left of you.

“It’s alright, it’s okay.” A rare comfort from his companion, he takes your small frame and turns. He is going to gently lie you in the cooling Earth. A destruction God destroys in order for something new to be created. He plans to give his only friend a blessed grave for you so he can visit until, what Bakugou hopes but heavily doubts, Kirishima forgets.

“W..wait. wait. She needs…” His voice shatters as with shaking fingers he creates the very thing he had intended for you to have. Good fortune in the shape of deities or wild irises, circling one another to be a stunning crown. Instead of white they glow gold as he sets it atop your crown. Kirishima squeezes your limp hand a final time before letting you go. Bakugou breathes deeply as he works, pulling the ground back together with sheer force as the lava recedes. He does so until the two shelves barely meet, a rich bed of soil lies before his feet. Gently he lies you in the bed of dirt.

“Ashes to ashes.” Your body ignites from within, glowing in a golden flame until there is nothing left but dust on the wind and the golden flower crown. Bakugou pulls the dirt over your remains.

Kirishima falls to his knees, pressing his hand into the Earth, fearful he will forget a mortal like you, a mere blip in his infinite lifetime. The ground beneath him bursts and blooms in great color. All deep reds, golden yellows and blinding whites for miles.

“I will always love you my little flower."

The summer breeze feels warm as it rouses the scent of rain and the sound of chimes. You close your eyes and day dream of something long forgotten, of stories retold from an old book of legend you never read. Nervousness thrums through your veins as you stand beside your ash blonde friend, patiently waiting for the third party to arrive. The impatient man growls beside you as he spots someone he recognizes behind you.

"Oi shitty hair hurry up! Iris and I have been waiting here all damn morning!” Bakugou shouts, using your hero name. You turn to see your new patrol partner for future missions. The sun illuminates behind him, almost giving him a heavenly glow and you realize that there is something odd about the man who approaches you. His long flowing garnet hair is unruly in the wind, shining a red so deep in hue you first mistake it for black. His smile is sharp toothed and easy, causing a swarm of butterflies to take flight in your stomach. With your heart hammering out of your chest you cannot shake the feeling that something seems off about him. It is both other worldly and familiar, you feel as if his name sits on the tip of your tongue. A shiver runs down your spine as his glowing ruby eyes drink you in. He sees a faint mark traveling through your left eye as if it were a fading scar, maybe it was something you could not shake from a past long forgotten. His heart hammers in his chest as he speaks, your reaction to his next words will tell him what he needs to know.

“Hello my little flower, it seems we meet again.”

#kirishima x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #bnha god au #bnha fantasy au #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha 18+#bnha kirishima x reader #kirishima god x reader #bnha eijirou #bnha eijiro kirishima

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orange-waterfalls · 3 years

Text

G-Bots (TM)

Googleplier (x4) x viewer!reader

ty anon for the request!

A/N: Funny story! I am no longer physically capable of writing normally! I tried so hard to be normal and just veered off into SCP/Cryptid viewer territory because I like expanding on the idea that the viewer is Not Human! Anyways, you’re hanging out with the Googles. That is it. Nothing is wrong. You do not recognize the bodies in the water haha anyways I think I like went a little creepypasta-esque at the end there but it’s fine I think probably. It’s fine. Might be a little weird in terms of story, but i think this was more focused on world building to me. Probably seen as more platonic than romantic, but see it however you wish. Enjoy!

Word count: 2.5k

G-Bots (TM)

You wheezed just a bit as you sped through wherever-the-fuck you were. Sure, maybe that was a bad idea. Sure, Dark was a little bit threatening and SURE, you were supposed to be back by now, and the fact that you weren’t back with Mark trying to convince him NOT to split up was the tiniest bit problematic. You weren’t even sure this was a building? Were you in the void? Goddammit, not again…

You stopped, concluding that this was bullshit and you did not want to do it right now. You bent over, hands on your knees and took deep breaths. You stared into the emptiness for a bit, then looked around for a moment, just trying to figure things out. You needed to reassess. It was basically one big, long hallway with random twists and terms every few meters. You’d always end up back at the paintings of… them… and knew you’d gone too far. You did that over, and over, and over again. At this point you thought Dark had just forgotten about you. You took a deep breath in and let it out. You stood up straight and looked up at the paintings. You heard their voices echo through your head a bit. You squeezed your eyes shut and your head twitched.

“You’re alright… you’re ok… cool it…” You whispered to yourself. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Meditate. Think.

You looked on either side of the hall and, for the first time, you noticed doors extending down into the void and not stopping. You let out a breath. You felt a slight sense of dread. Something was telling you not to enter the rooms. Some little voice in the back of your head that sounded suspiciously like Mark. But, hey, what else were you gonna do?

“Ok… do i want to enter the door on the left or the door on the right?” You asked yourself. You paused to think about it. After a few seconds you felt yourself jerk forward a bit. Your brain felt staticy and you felt compelled to the left. You turned the knob and opened the door slightly. Immediately you heard music that might be in an SCP game, and a voice that sounded suspiciously like “do you recognize the bodies in the water?”. You were hoping no, and you bailed before you had a chance to look. You ended up almost exactly in your previous position in the hall. Your brain felt fuzzy again, and this time you gravitated to the right. You opened the door just a little, maybe to see what was inside, but again you heard the SCP ambiance.

But this time it was from behind you. So, like any smart person, you swung the door open, slammed it behind you and did your best to lock it. But there was no lock. So you stood. Waiting. Nothing happened.

Of course nothing happened. Why would anything happen? Dark wouldn’t want you to get hurt… probably. This was his domain. Probably. If you were alive, it’s because he wanted you to be. If you were in this room, it’s because he wanted you to be.

Speaking of: Where the hell were you?

You turned around to look behind you. In the blank white room there was a single grey couch with all 4 Google androids sitting on it. Apparently they were recharging, because they hadn’t noticed you standing there and also they were plugged into an outlet in the wall. You hadn’t considered that they had to physically plug into something to charge up, but the thought made you snort.

Bad idea.

All of their eyes snapped open at once, revealing the glow of their assigned colors. They all stood up and began walking towards you in unison. You felt a slight sense of dread. Even so, you tried to grab the doorknob, the one that apparently was no longer there, and cursed under your breath when you could only feel the smooth wall behind you. The androids stopped, staring at you. You cleared your throat.

“Hey…” you laughed nervously, “So, uh, funny story, actually-”

“You are not supposed to be here,” The original Googleplier, Blue, stated.

“Well, see, that’s where this whole thing started, um, see, Mark wanted to split up-”

“No human is allowed inside of this room, and not you, either.”

“Well-” You stopped, processing what he said, “Wait. ‘Either’? I’m human.”

“No, you’re not,” Google Green said. You wanted to be offended, but you were more confused.

“What do you mean? I’m human!” You argued.

“What color’s your hair?” Red asked with a mean smirk on his face. You opened your mouth to respond, and an amalgamate of voices saying “BROWNBLACKBLONDEWHITERED” came out. You slapped a hand over your mouth.

“... what the hell was that?” Your muffled voice whispered. Well, you thought it was probably yours.

“What’s your eye color?” BROWNGREENBLUEAMBERYELLOW exited your being before you could even try to answer.

“Do you have any pets?” That one just ended with a computer error sound from you.

“... huh.” You dropped your shoulders a little. The revelation probably should’ve upset you more.

“What are you doing here?”

“I… do not recognize the bodies in the water.” You explained.

“Ah, I see. Darkiplier would want you to not die, therefore you may stay.”

“Ha. Wow. Who knew the Googleplier androids-”

“G-Bots.”

“... what?”

“We are legally not allowed to use the name ‘Google’ anymore. We are now G-Bots.”

“... legally.”

“We were discontinued. And sold. And signed a contract.”

“So does that mean I can’t call you Google anymore?”

“No, that is simply my name. The name of us as androids, however, is now G-Bots.”

“Ok. What about them?” You pointed to the other three.

“Yellow is Oliver, Green is Lee, Red is Elliott.”

“And you’re just Google?”

“They’ve been trying to change my name to Gregor. I deeply dislike it.”

“It’s a good name.” Oliver suggested, smiling.

“Means vigilant.” Lee shrugged.

“Don’t be a pussy, Greg.” Elliott adopted a shit-eating grin as he leaned a little closer to Google.

“You can do… whatever you wish. Just do not be like them, DA.” Google instructed through gritted teeth.

The room began to shift color and expand. The couch was still grey in the center, but there were now four sections of each of the colors. The yellow section was filled with flowers, with a laptop on a desk next to a switch and a little Vector robot sitting by on the windowsill that showed a colorful meadow with bees buzzing to and fro. It glitched for a moment, so you knew the window wasn’t real. The green section had large houseplants and looked a bit like a greenhouse, and had an Xbox hooked up to a TV in the corner and seemed to have a view of a lake in the faux-window. The red section had miscellaneous wires and computer parts and lights here and there, looking like a fire hazard, and a PC on a table, while the window showed what appeared to be space. Google’s section was absolutely spotless, not a single thing anywhere, apart from a tiny skateboard next to a PS4 in the corner, and the window showed computer code.

“Wow.” You said. You might be stuck here for a while, so you might as well enjoy it.

Though you wondered who DA was. -- You hate to say it, but you had a favorite G Bot. It was kind of like having a favorite child, in your mind. You felt like they somehow knew that you had a favorite, but you didn’t know why.

Oliver was the sweetest by far, immediately going to make you as comfortable or entertained as possible while you were with him. He asked you if you wanted to watch something, if you wanted to play a game, if you were hungry, etc. It was kind of like going over to a friend’s house for the first time. He was enthusiastic to the point where he was shaking with anxiety over wanting to make you happy. You thought he didn’t get many visitors and maybe that was why. He showed you his flowers, and the bees, and a small painting in the corner, hoping for validation. His glowing eyes seemed to dull when you moved on to the next section, but said you’d visit him again. That did help, but he turned away sadly and went to water his flowers.

Lee seemed as though he couldn’t care less if you were there. He told you where everything was and that you could do whatever. If you asked for help, he would stop what he was doing and help you. Once you understood, he immediately resumed his previous task. He was a bit cold, like Google, but in a “I am very busy but I am still here if you need me” sort of way. He played a game or two with you, having a preference for the puzzle games more than anything else. Puzzle horror, more specifically. If there was a shooting part, he immediately shoved the controller into your hands, saying he didn’t want to do that part. When you left, he simply continued with his work without a goodbye.

Elliott tried so hard to ignore you for the longest time. You could hear him scoff and growl anytime you made any sort of noise. You were self conscious at first, but you came to understand that he was just an asshole. You started on a game, playing for a few minutes, and felt the red couch sink next to you because he had sat down next to you. If he thought you sucked (which he did) he would snatch the controller from you and finish whatever you were doing before giving it back. He refused to say anything or help you, either. He’d just make rude noises and walk away occasionally before coming back. When you left, he seemed a lot angrier than he had before, and wouldn’t say goodbye to you. He turned away with a huff and started pressing random buttons on the controller.

Google was by far the least interested in anything you had to do. You sat on the couch next to him, and he didn’t move an inch. You sat there for a bit, waiting, but he did not move. You stood up, walked around, messed with a few things, attempted to play a game or two. Google didn’t move. You pulled up the Gamer ChairTM and sat directly in front of Google, arms crossed. You sighed. Finally, he looked up at you.

“Is there something you need?” He asked in that monotone voice of his.

“I’m bored,” you said.

“Go to one of the others,” He closed his eyes.

“What are you doing?” You asked, curious.

“That is not-” He sounded exasperated.

“Hey Google, what are you doing?” You interrupted like the little shit you were

“Currently, this G Bot system is recharging its battery. This G Bot is at: 69%.” He shifted to a purely robotic voice.

“Haha nice.”

“This G Bot’s primary objective is to answer questions as quickly as possible. Would you like to ask a question?”

“Yes. What do you like to do, Google?”

“I enjoy answering your questions. Do you have any more?”

“What company owns you?”

“G-Bots were recently sold by the Google company to Warfstache Incorporated.”

“Wilford has a company?”

“Warfstache Incorporated is co-owned by Wilford ‘Motherloving’ Warfstache and Damien-Dami-Da-Darkiplier.” He glitched while answering.

“Who’s Damie-”

“The Corporation owns shows such as ‘Markiplier TV’, ‘Warfstache Tonight!’, and ‘Hire My Ass’. Do you have any more questions?”

“Do you pass the Turing Test?”

“Wondering if you have to treat me with basic decency?” He shifted back to his less robotic, but still monotone, voice.

“No. Just wondering.”

Neither of you spoke again for a while. He did scold you when you tried to move the couch with him still on it, so… progress. -- You were beginning to suspect that Google didn’t like you very much.

The blue one. Google. The other ones liked you. Oliver ranted to you for a whole half hour about different kinds of bugs and the hierarchy of bees. The queen is assassinated when she is bad for the hive, it would seem. Lee made you play Resident Evil with him because he didn’t like the fighting, but he liked figuring out what to do. You frantically passed controllers back and forth a lot. Elliott basically did speedruns of several games, you watching intently the whole time. He seemed to like the attention and actually smiled at you whenever he finished one.

But Google didn’t like you. He ignored you, and told you not to touch anything, and scowled whenever you asked him personal questions. Not like “what’s your sexuality” type of personal questions. More like… “what’s your favorite color and why is it blue” sort of questions. He didn’t like them either way.

But the others liked you, and that was pretty neat.

You still wanted Google to like you though.

“Hey Google,” he perked up with the little “do-do!” noise, “Can you guys go into your different sections?”

“All G-Bots have the ability to pass into other’s color-coordinated sections,” He answered politely.

“Why don’t you?”

“We don’t want to.”

“Do you get along?”

“Yes.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Celine dislikes when colors are mismatched.”

“Who’s-”

“I’m sorry, this G Bot needs to charge.”

“But you haven’t been-”

“This G Bot needs to charge.”

“Come on, if you--”

“This G Bot needs to charge.”

You quieted and plopped into the chair. You stared at Google. His eyes flickered for a moment before they closed. -- The other Bots knew who Celine and Damien were, they just weren’t telling you. Their eyes always flickered when you asked, but they wouldn’t tell you.

You threatened not to play with Lee anymore. He said he could play on his own. You could see that he didn’t want to. You played Alien: Isolation. His eyes seemed duller.

You threatened not to watch Elliott’s speedruns. He said he didn’t care. You could tell that he did. You watched him play Hollow Knight. His eyes seemed duller.

You threatened not to listen to Oliver’s rants. He looked terrified, but he said that was fine. You could tell it wasn’t. You begged him to tell you. He looked sad.

“Who’s Damien?” You asked softly, stepping towards him.

“I can’t tell you,” He shifted back.

“Who’s Celine?” You stepped forward.

“I can’t tell you.”

“Who’s DA?”

All of the G-Bots stopped what they were doing. You heard static and felt like you were being watched. -- You looked up at the color on the outside of the museum.

You were doing something. You were doing something.

Were you robbing this place? It felt like you were. What happened to Mark? What happened… to you?

You stared at the doors, feeling a slight sense of dread. Something in the back of your head was telling you this wasn’t right. To go home. To…

“Ignorance is Bliss. Try Again?”

#on a lighter note #it is canon in MY markiplier cinematic universe #that oliver is an actual beekeeper #also i realized that the names i picked are very stereotypical trans guy names #so googleplier canon trans ig dwgyuefyuer #googleplier #googleplier blue #googleplier yellow #googleplier green #googleplier red #googleplier x reader #googleplier x gn!reader #google gets an upgrade #and yes the lil skateboard was a gift from bing <3 #googleplier x gender neutral reader

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