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saturnsstufff · 3 years

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The Empress (pt.IV)

Mmm. Blood for blood god, yes?

Warnings: mentions of abuse, poison, death, swearing

The palace was a bit busier after the evening you announced your new employment. After the servants herd there would be a trip, they were mostly preparing for Techno’s, and Phil’s leave. Two days weren't much to you, but to Techno and Phil? They were busy days. Techno ended up stealing Phil from your side during those days, so instead you spent your time with Wilbur.

Wilbur was a brilliant child. For being twelve he already had a large understanding of how their kingdom worked. Not only that, but when questioned he could also tell you about other countries and nations. He didn't play up his intelligent, but he also didn't dismiss what he knew.

Tomorrow was the day that Techno, Phil and you had planned to leave on. Phil did walk you to breakfast that morning, but Techno and Phil didn't waist time eating. They mostly hurried through, leaving little room for conversation, then left to Techno’s study. Leaving you and Wil alone for the day again. You didn't mind that though, yesterday you spent your time lingering over his shoulder well he did his studies. The studies, though sounding boring at first were actually pretty interesting. You had a education, however, the one you received was very basic. You were taught to read, write, and even shown basic math, but beyond that you weren't pressured to learn more. No one in your village was. This wasn't because your village viewed education less to survival. But mostly because your village was tiny, there were no great scholars. Most children were taught by there parents, like you, your mother taught you everything. Where Wilbur, at twelve was learning about different potion ingredients and there properties. You at the same age had just finished basic fractions. But that was ok, education wasn't something to compare, everyone learns differently and at different speeds.

Well you maneuvered around the casual tables, bookshelves and sofas, he responded. “Oh! well, you see, Phil wants all of his kids to be respectful, especially to women” you nodded, ’most parents prefer that.’ you mused to yourself. The two of you walked through the library to a room in the back. This is where Wil did his studies. It was just a private room, mostly made so no one could disturb the individual reading inside. “Our mother, she was really kind- you would have liked her- and her most defiantly would have liked you” He was just loosely rambling off, but it was adorable, he had a bright smile. Well you listened, something told you, not many people sat and talked with him. “When Phil met our mother he always told us of how poor her home life was, she wasn't treated very nicely, you see.” Wil took the door to the study and opened it for you two. Both of you moseying inside, side by side. When you two found the sofa you sat down easy, mostly having to readjust after. Unlike you Wil half threw himself onto it with a little squeak of the cushion. “When Dad found out mother was carrying me, he quickly took her away from her home. Anytime he mentioned her parents you could have sworn he wanted to kill them. Dadza doesn't get mad, but when he does... it’s not exactly pleasant.” Wil had swallowed a bit thickly at that last comment. Letting it linger in the air.

You walked with Wil towards the Library, the hall’s were a tad chillier due to the fact the sun wasn't out today. In its place was just grey clouds, offering more snow to the already maxed out ice cube you stood on. When you took the handle to open the door for Wil, he took it from your hand quickly. After grabbing it, he stumbled into profusely apologizing for his spur of the moment behavior.

“So sorry (y/n), it’s just, if Dadza caught me slacking on my manners... He wouldn't be too pleased.” You tilted your head slightly as he opened the door fully. Exposing the Ancient Book lined walls. The stale smell of paper, parchment, and the occasional ink hit you. The library was rather large, but then again, most things within this palace tended to be. The library did have a warmth to it, and a welcoming feeling. The type where if your not careful, you could get lost inside for hours at a time. In the corner rested a larger than normal fireplace, The attached Chimney ran to the celling, lined With thick Rocks and stones. The crackling and popping of the wood burning within was a very comforting white noise.

“this might seem off, but, what manners?” they way you said it may have sounded wrong, but you meant it in the best way you could. Or more the less for him to expand on the manners he was talking about.

“I'm not sure if I can ask, but, Techno looks older than you, did... He live with your mother when she was with her parents?” Wil shifted to face you a bit more. Putting his heel up on his knee. well he rested his elbow on the arm of the couch, he moved his head to rest in his hand.

“No, Techno was adopted. When dad was in the Nether he raided a lost fortress. from what he explained, there was just a toddler roaming around.” Your heart clenched slightly, you couldn't imagine leaving a toddler alone, none the less in a place like the nether. you have never been there, but the stories you’ve herd were enough to tell you the danger. “Since he’s a hybrid of a Piglin Brute and human, none of the other Piglins would touch him. So Dadza did, as Dadza does. he took him home.”

You thought back on this a moment. Techno had a godlike amount of strength, not to mention how tall he was. Of course he was a Hybrid. You felt a bit stupid now for not picking it up. “Just, don't tell Techno I told you, he doesn't like his name being discussed behind his back” You nodded. Wilbur’s face grew into a smile. “This can be our secret” you nodded and smiled back.

“our secret” The more you talked to Wil, you discovered he was a lot like Philza. The two had the most contagious smile you’d ever seen. The only difference you assumed was he had his mother's features. Phil had bright keen blue eyes, well Wilbur had deep beautiful brown eyes. Another difference was there facial structure. You two were quiet a moment before you spoke up. You had been curious of where their mother was, there were paintings of her. But she was no where around. The way Wil talked about her made you assume she had passed. “what happened to your mother?”

Wilbur’s eyes saddened briefly before he- what you assumed- forced himself to contain. “Oh, well... Phil and Mom had a dinner one night with some other world leaders.” he paused a bit rubbing his neck. “It was supposed to be peaceful. but someone from the German Empire didn't want us to be allies. so he poisoned our mother’s food.” He started slowing down with the story as he went on. “Like you said with your father (y/n), you were too young to understand? That's how it was for me. I was only four. I didn't understand why Techno and Dad were so angry.” he wiped his eyes as they welled up, one eye let a tear fall. “They didn't keep me in the room long. As soon as mom started choking, they started yelling. One of our allies’, his wife, had taken me out of the room before it had escalated any further.”

Your heart fell heavy, a pit forming in your stomach. you couldn't empathize with loosing a parent. especially at such a young age like that. You could easily tell Wil wasn't over his mothers death. The way he looked at the ground with such hurt, it genuinely pained you so see the happy boy like this. You moved yourself closer to his side and hugged him tightly, showing him the reassurance he needed. You didn't respond for a little bit. letting Wil express what emotions he had possibly bottled up. After a bit when you felt him pull back, you just kept your arm around his shoulder. You weren't his family. but you hoped that for what company you offered, it made him feel at least a bit better. “I'm sorry Wilbur…” was all you could muster. The atmosphere weighed heavier now. With the sadness of pressed memories lingering, the two of you didn't talk. instead you simply sat in silence.

“So what’s France like?” you asked curiously, taking a bite of your mashed potatoes.

By dinner that evening Wilbur and you had already promised each other that you wouldn't speak of what happened in the studies. He didn't want Techno on his back for opening up, or that he also cried a bit. You were ok with keeping it between you two, Wilbur had confided in you something very personal, the least you could do was respect his wishes.

Dinner had gone by smoothly, the chatter between Wilbur and you had picked up quite a lot. You could tell this made Phil happy to see the two of you getting along. Especially since you now technically live with them. When you first arrived to the palace, dinner’s were kind of awkward, since only Phil and you really talked. But now it seemed that Techno was the only one that wouldn't partake in the conversations. He would put a word or two in. But mostly dinners were spent with Wil and you talking about whatever came to mind.

Wil was hurrying to swallow to try and respond. “Oh! you’d love it there (y/n)!” Phil slightly chuckled at Wil. “Its really scenic!” Before Wil could ramble off about France and it’s perks, Phil had chimed in.

“It is a beautiful place, but were not going to any specific places. were only going to the countryside's. We know that much” Wil and you cocked your head’s slightly. ‘what’s out in the country side?’ You mentally questioned, but Wil instead asked it aloud.

“Not that the countryside isn't beautiful- why not stop by the towns?” Wil questioned, his brow furrowed. waving his fork between Techno and Phil for his answer.

“The cities don't have what I need” Techno said plainly, at that Wilbur shot back with a remark.

“mmn, like a girlfriend?” you couldn't help but laugh at the way Techno turned to face Wilbur. Since he still eats with his mask. you could only see his lips, to which Techno made a ‘heh?’ before he compiled his answer fully.

“Keep it up I’ll take you to France and punt you out of my plane.” Phil laughed with you on that one. Although Techno was pretty stoic and monotone, over the last couple of days lately he’s been showing more of his ‘Brotherly love’ as Phil call’s it. you had a feeling that Techno and Phil were going to miss Wilbur during there trip. or, at least you would for sure. After Wilbur laughed a bit he got serious again.

“But really, what are you looking for. there’s not many things in the countryside besides the occasional mansion or farm. Kind of boring if you ask me” Techno hummed in response. Appearing like he was aware of what was in the country already. Since Wil couldn't work a answer out of Techno he simply dropped the subject, viewing it no longer worth the push. Instead he started back on his steak, Phil picking up the conversation.

“Those new clothes should be in your room tonight, (y/n)” you looked up and swallowed your mouthful. nodding before you answered.

“mhn! oh! right, thank you again for them. Are you sure my old pair wouldn't cut it? I’d hate to ruin a new pair of clothes on a side trip” Phil waved his hand in response, as if waving away your worry.

“awh, I wouldn't worry to much on it. Besides, now that you work for us, you have to be official n’ shit” He grinned at you. “Besides, your clothes were nice for your village, but France and Russia have a bit different climates.” You nodded casually. The idea of visiting new places had you a bit giddy. Yes, you missed your home, but being with the royal family so far has been utterly pleasant.

“do you have a certain time you would like to leave?” you questioned, your eyes dancing between Techno and Phil for your answer. Techno didn't look up from his food, expecting Phil to answer for him.

“we’ll probably just end up sending a servant to wake you up. We don't have a specific time yet, but we know it will probably be early. Mostly so we can reach land on time. Techno has the map’s ready for tomorrow with the stops marked. fuel n’ stuff will probably draw us back time wise.” Phil poked at his food well he talked, moving a bit of the food to a nice size bite. “We don't have a designated time we have to return. But we also don't want to be gone from the palace long.” you tilted your head a bit, looking to Phil.

“why don't you want to be gone long?” You assumed it was because they liked being in the comfort of their own home, but you also had a feeling it was something beyond that. Phil’s brow had came together in a bit of... frustration?

“we cant be gone long because the Governor's get antsy..." this was the first time you herd Phil's voice drop. It wasn't his casual light hearted tone, instead it was replaced with a deep, meaningful, yet precise tone. He knew what he wanted to say, and he knew exactly what he had to say. "We can't take Wilbur with us since he’s too young. It's also best to have someone to look over the palace in our absence."

You set your fork down as you finished your plate. Mimicking how techno piled his plates. "Why do they get antsy?" You couldn't help your curiosity on this matter. ‘Did the Governor's not like them gone?’

"Because they feel Wilbur is more fit to Rule. It's utter bullshit" Phil had a lot of pressed emotion on that topic. You could tell just from how he now handled and moved his fork. Usually he had a easy grip, loose moving it about his plate. But now his knuckles were a tad white, and his grip was much more secure. "Don't mistake my words, Wilbur could rule. He'd be a bloody brilliant king too. But Techno is my oldest son. The crown falls to him. Plain and simple. But They think, that because Techno isn't my blood, that it doesn't count." His words started becoming sharper and more hateful. He dropped his fork on his plate at this point out of anger. Even Techno who never moves his head much, Or talk for that matter, had moved his head to face Phil. Techno addressed his father.

"Dadza..." you were a bit shocked, his tone wasn't as monotone. His voice showed his concern, or maybe his understanding. Phil only looked at his plate before he looked up with a breath.

"I cant leave Wil because they pressure him. They pressure him into the thought of marriage with his best friend, into dethroning techno, last time the fucker's brought up killin’ tech and I" Phil leaned back in his chair a bit.

Phil sighed again. Looking up at Wilbur with kind eyes, the hate from his previous thoughts wiped free. "I hate leaving him with that much pressure. He's only twelve".

After the dinner everyone slowly retired to their rooms. Techno had stolen Phil again for some last minute run by plans, so in his stead Wilbur walked you to your room. You both didn't Talk long however, you both were aware that you would be up early the next day. Oh yeah, you were definitely up early. The sun hadn't rose yet and you were already being shaken awake by one of the maids. Telling you that Techno and Phil were patiently waiting. you hurried to change not wanting to leave them waiting any longer.

When you saw them in the hall you had just thrown your cloak and cape over your shoulders. The new attire Phil had made for you was just mostly more layers. This way if you got warm you could shed a few, or vise versa when you were cold.

“I'm so sorry I kept you waiting-” you stopped mid sentence you couldn't believe what you saw. If anyone could have seen your face, they may have assumed you had witnessed a murder for the way your jaw hung open.

There stood Techno in front of you, Phil by his side. But that's not what had your mouth open. Techno’s mask was long discarded, and by the gods was he good looking. Maybe not in the typical sense of beauty standards, but to you he was ethereal. He had scars, yes, but that only added to him. Maybe if he didn't have the scars he would have blown the beauty standard of Handsome, but speaking for yourself you prefer him with the scars. You definitely prefer the scars. There was a small scar over his lip. Then one larger one across his brow bone that dragged down to his cheek. From how the larger one appeared, you could only assume how long it took for it to heal. His eyes were delicate, but they danced ablaze. they were brown, but almost borderline red tinted. Without his mask you could see that he had a rather soft, natural appearance. He was young, younger than you assumed. He looked only about seventeen. The way he was dressed made him look like a casual, young gentleman you would have found on the street. you almost couldn't believe he was the feared Emperor. He must have noticed your lingering eyes, because his lips moved into the ever slightest bemused smirk. When you saw his expression you couldn't help the heat that flushed your cheeks. Worst of all is you could feel your heated cheeks, and that just made you redder from embarrassment. If this was how the trip was going to start, you were in for a long bumpy ride.

“Hello, princess” was all he said. He was purposefully poking at you now. He just learned he had a big effect on you, and oh boy was he ready to torment you with it. You could only avert your eyes, you had nothing to say against that. You didn't even know where to begin with it all. it took you a moment to process. Phil still stood beside Techno, his hand rubbed at his mouth a bit to muffle the chuckle he had.

“w...where’s your skull?... a-aren’t you traveling with it?” oh great, yeah your voice definitely, wasn't taking your side on trying to compose yourself. Techno hummed, he was really amused now.

“Hm? Here I thought you would have preferred this... what a shame, I even shaved.” techno ran his large but delicate hand over his jaw and neck, the rings on his fingers stuck out against his skin. Phil laughed vocally now. The little shit was enjoying this. techno adjusted his stance and crossed his arms. He just held a bemused smirk, oh you so wished nothing more than to rub it off. You didn't care if he was a royal, if you thought you could take him, you would have.

“Ok techno, that's enough, don't want her too red now. she might try and off ya’” Oh don't worry Phil you already thought about it. “don't worry about making us wait either kiddo, we had to get a few things ready anyway” you looked up at Phil as your cheeks finally started to return to normal.

“What were you getting?” you inquired, your brows slightly furrowed.

“This” Techno said, offering a sheath to you. You looked up to him and back down to it. It was a sword, not the one you made, but a different one. “We cant have you defenseless on your trip with us” You hesitated. you knew this was the wrong time to admit that you didn't know how to fight with a sword. You gently took it, parting the blade from its sheath to look it over. It was well made that's for sure, basic Iron, but still strong.

“Your Imperial Majesty...” you were thankful for the sword but, again. you didn't know how to use it. you made them, but you were never taught on how to use one. Your mother forbid it, saying that you already took a man’s trade, there was no need for you to dirty yourself further down the path. “I... I cant...” Techno’s brow lifted in question. “I... d-don't know how to use it...” You felt shame take over you. Fully prepared for them to laugh at you. Instead Phil offered you a slightly surprised look. Techno only made a ‘Heh?’.

“You don't know how to use a sword?” you could only shake your head, looking down slowly. Phil placed his hand on your shoulder reassuringly, moving his head down so he could face you. “Hey... Hey, your ok... Tell ya’ what. Well were out on the trip, we’ll show you ok? It’s still good to carry a sword, just incase things go side-ways. But I promise we’ll make sure you don't have to use it then, ok?” you nodded slowly.

“O-ok, I'm still sorry...” Phil only shook his head, explaining you had nothing to be sorry for. He gently took the sword from you and put it back in it’s case. He told you to lift your arm’s, so that's what you did. He easily maneuvered the belt around your waist and secured the sword your hip. Almost like he would have done to his own kids. The weight of it would have to be something to get used to, but you were thankful that they were not mad or disappointed in you.

The three of you walked to where all the planes were kept. this is where Phil offered you a choice. “Would you like to ride with Techno or I?” Oh, so you had to pick. You gave them a brief blank look.

“I figured I would be riding with you, Phil” You did assume you were just going to ride with him, but you also didnt want to be with techno if he was strickly in a teasing mood. Phil only smiled and nodded.

“Alright’ lets get going then” was all he said. Techno walked passed you and Phil. Making his way over to his plane, there was a heavier cloak waiting on the wing. Techno’s plane was different from the other ones, not physically. His had a crown on the side along with the signa, probably to shownit was the Rulers. He effortlessly threw the heavy cloak over his shoulder and stepped up on the wing. His arm reaching out to pull himself up. jumping into the cockpit easily.

Phil handed you a similar cloak. “it’s colder right now due to the sun being down. you will definitely want this.” you nodded and took it with a ‘thank you’. well you put it on Phil had stepped up onto the wing. pulling his cloak on. He offered his hand down again like he did the last time you flew. His wings were spread out behind him, enjoying the freedom they had before they would be confined. when you took his hand he pulled you up effortlessly. letting you steady yourself before he lifted you up to the cockpit, assisting you in. when you were all situated the planes roared to life. Techno faced Phil and sent a nod. A wordless que. Phil sent a nod back before they both started moving together. Soon before you knew it, you were back in the air heading home.

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#techno x reader #technoblade x you #technoblade x reader #TE

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whimsicallyreading · 3 years

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Dark Roast, No Sugar

“Last night I woke the hell up. I realized I need you here, as desperate as that sounds, yeah.” - Jon Bellion

Masterlist

Chapter Nine-

Aelin showed up to the police department in a pair of leggings and an oversized shirt. She didn't even bother putting on the new-ish sneakers she owned, opting for the ones with holes because they didn't squeeze her feet. It wasn't the first impression she wanted to give, but you deserve a little forgiveness when making a whole-ass human.

Leaning over the dash of the car, she presses a friendly kiss to the side of Chaol's face. "Thanks for the ride, boys."

His cheeks redden, and Dorian leans as much of his body as he can into the front of the car, "No sugar for me?"

Aelin laughs and kisses his cheek good-naturedly. "Feel less left out now?"

"Much better," the corners of his happy smile dim, his blue eyes dart to the doors of the precinct. "Are you sure you don't want me to call you a lawyer, Aelin?"

Chaol nods his agreement beside him, his hands clenching the steering wheel despite the car being in park. "Do you want me to go inside with you?"

Aelin feels a bubble of warmth blossoming in her chest. Their worried faces and eagerness to help her- it was almost enough to warm an assassin's heart. "Don't worry. They just need me to clarify a few things in my statement. Nothing serious. Paperwork issues."

Dorian and Chaol had shown up right as she was walking out of the front door of The Stag. When they realized she was leaving and offered her a ride... Aelin couldn't say no. Not with how her feet were aching.

It took some more reassuring, but they finally agreed to let her leave their caring grasps.

Fenrys met her at the door with a smile, "Hey, Baby Mama. Looking beautiful."

Aelin is surprised to find she's genuinely happy to see him. She can't help the toothy grin he brings out in her. "I'm well. How are you this morning, Fen?"

Fenrys lights up at the nickname. "I bought us some donuts. We have a hard day of work ahead of us, and I figured we would deserve a treat in advance."

Donuts sounded phenomenal and vastly improved her outlook of the day.

He steers her through the PD, and several heads turn to stare as she passes. Aelin didn't particularly care. Whatever they thought they knew about her, they probably didn't.

When they finally reach Rowan's office, they find him slumped over a laptop at a desk piled high with neatly stacked papers. The room is minimalistic. Only necessary office items were visible—no personal effects, knickknacks, or pictures of any kind adorning the space.

Rowan himself is also in his usual state of neatness, minus the dirt she could see staining the underside of his nails. He must have been gardening this morning.

Aelin doesn't bother with greetings. She grabs a chair opposite him and sits down. The last few days, she'd been feeling more drained and quick to tire. At first, she attributed it to the baby getting larger and demanding more of her body's resources, but now Aelin started to think that she caught a bug galavanting through the night.

Fenrys set a blueberry donut and a cup of hot tea in front of her. Bless him. Aelin mumbles her thanks before stuffing her mouth.

Rowan shuts his laptop with a snap and replaces it with a yellow notepad. "Alright, Aelin. I need a name. Who do you think is doing this?"

"When is Aedion getting released?" She says around a mouthful of glazed blueberry.

Fenrys slumps into an office chair at a tinier desk in the corner of the room. "This afternoon."

"If all goes well at this meeting," Rowan tacks on the thinly veiled warning. "I need a name."

Aelin leans back in her seat and takes a deep breath. There was a strange heaviness in giving his name. As if speaking it would materialize him into existence in front of her. Her goal when she moved to Ornyth was to forget about him and push her old master as far from her mind as she physically could, but she supposed it was naive to think he wouldn't come looking for her.

This wasn't just for her, Aelin reminds herself. Aedion would benefit from this conversation.

"His name is Arobynn Hammel. He's thirty-five, red hair, grey eyes, and an utter asshole." Aelin lays the name of her childhood tormentor out on the table. A bad taste sours her mouth.

Rowan tosses the notepad to Fenrys, who relays what she said to the paper. He looks at her over his desk with an unreadable expression. "What is your relation to Mr. Hammel?"

"Why?" Aelin chuckles as if the stress is trying to escape her with each half-hearted chuckle. "Do you want to know if he's my baby daddy?"

"Yes," Rowan and Fenrys say simultaneously.

Aelin's smile falls, and she scowls at both of them. They didn't know better, but she still felt insulted.

"He isn't, but I suppose he probably would have liked to be. Make sure to underline that," she points at Fenry's pad of paper. "Arobynn raised me. I don't think he was legally a foster parent, but he is who I was given to in the shuffle after the occupation."

Rowan dips his chin. Green eyes focus on her intensely, as if he's trying to absorb and commit her every word to memory. "How old were you when they put you in his care?"

"Eight," Aelin breathes out, a sharp tingling of grief comes with that admission. "I lived with him from the time I was eight until I turned nineteen."

"Why do you suspect him of producing and distributing Synth?" Rowan asks the nail-in-the-coffin question, and Aelin has to bite back old instincts to lie and conceal this information. It makes her feel vulnerable to expose Arobynn.

Vulnerability isn't an emotion she handles well. After all, when you bare your neck to someone, it becomes within their power to cut their throat.

"I've seen where he makes it, and I oversaw some of his high-risk contracts and dealings with the distribution," Fenrys chokes beside her, but he smothers it with a cough. Even Rowan looks a little taken back, eyes narrowing.

"At what age did you start assisting with his-" he struggles to find the words. "-His business practices."

Aelin blinks, "Eight."

This time, neither of them covers their reactions. They both freeze in their seats, an air of disbelief hanging over them. Aelin feels a chill and tugs at the hem of her shirt, wishing the sleeves were longer.

"What?" Rowan is the first to break the tension.

"I was displaced in the occupation," Aelin begins the watered-down version of her sob story. "I was carted into Adarlan and placed in the care of Arobynn Hammel. Within a couple of months, he was already using me as a mule to get orders across Rifthold. He trained me in various skills to carry out larger jobs, along with a few other children."

"There were others?" Rowan looks saddened by that tidbit.

Mentally Aelin wants to laugh.

Of course, he would be upset at the prospect of other good children suffering from such a fate.`Ones who had the potential he thought she lacked.

If only he knew what bastards they all grew up to be, and she by far was not the worst of them.

Fenrys' eyes were gleaming with more pity than Aelin was comfortable with because, unlike Rowan, she knew it was directed towards her. Gratefully he didn't dig too deeply. Instead, Fenrys picked up the next question. "Can you name the others?"

Aelin bites her lip, leg fidgeting under the table. "Tern Fletcher, Archer Flynn, Adam Mulligan, Lysandra Ennar-" she swallows past the lump in her throat. "Samuel Cortland and myself."

"Lysandra was involved?" Rowan leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. He hasn't looked away, barely blinked, since the questioning began. Aelin feels naked as his eyes seemed to be raking in her every movement.

"Not-" she tries to think of how to phrase it in a way that respects her friend's privacy. "She wasn't involved in the same capacity I was."

"Are the others you know still working with Hammel?" Rowan asks, and Aelin gladly lets them move the conversation away from Lys. She wasn't comfortable digging into her friend's wounds when she wasn't around.

"I suspect Mulligan, Flynn, and Fletcher. They were extremely loyal, and as of the last time I saw them, very active in the business." Aelin fondly remembers the beat down she laid on Archer before their parting words. He sold them out, and she hopes for his sake that they never run into each other again.

Fenrys looks up, "What about Samuel?"

"What?" Aelin flinches, the question taking her back.

"Samuel Cortland," Rowan reiterates. "You named him as one of the employees in Hammel's custody but implied he's no longer active in the business. Where is he then?" He leans forward, and Aelin wishes she could shrink back. "Would he be willing to speak with us?"

"Children." Her voice comes out as gruffer than she intends. "We were kids. Not employees. It wasn't a mutual agreement. None of us could consent to what became of us."

Aelin is surprised by the emotion that makes itself known. She swallows back the tears that want to fall and stuffs her trembling hands under her thighs. The implication any of them had a choice in serving Arobynn was disturbing and utterly wrong.

The taste of skin between her teeth, blood crusting under her nails, and being surrounded in pitch-black darkness consume her. Aelin suddenly feels more ill than she had this morning.

"Of course, Aelin." Fenrys placates. "That's understood. We just need to know where Samuel is. He could be very useful to the investigation."

"Dead," Aelin throws the word out like a dying fish on the table. "He died."

It hurt to say that. Tears burned in the corners of her eyes. Sam dying was worse than talking about Arobynn. A million times worse.

Aelin tries to swallow the lead rock in her throat. Arobynn didn't deserve to be known. His legacy was of blood, abuse, and control. It belonged in the sewer alongside his corpse.

Sam, on the other hand, deserved to be known. He abandoned by the system, forgotten by his family, and still chose kindness above all else. Sam's story deserved to be told, and it killed Aelin that it hurt her so much to share it.

"How did he die?" Fenrys prods delicately.

"What?" Aelin asks dumbly, heart accelerating in her chest.

"How did Samuel die? Any details you can give are beneficial. and you agreed to cooperate." Rowan reminds her sternly.

Mala save her, she couldn't go into detail about how she found him. She couldn't. Aelin feels blood rushing up to her head, and the room seems to sway.

"Sam. He liked to be called Sam-" Is all Aelin manages to choke out. "Excuse me."

Pushing herself from the desk, she shakily bolts for the office door. Their complaints are silenced as the glass shuts behind her. Outside, Aelin can feel the trembling beginning in her hands and spreading up her arms.

Sweat beads on her forehead in the oppressive heat of the building, but when she rubs her face, it feels damp and cold to the touch.

Aelin frantically strides down the hall, eyes darting around madly for a bathroom door. Nausea was creeping up her throat, and she really didn't want to throw up in someone's trashcan. She knew she was moving quickly, that someone might see her and become alarmed, but anxiety made everything feel like it was moving in slow motion.

A dainty hand grips her elbow and tugs in gently. "Follow me, dear. I can help you."

Aelin's head is swimming, and she allows the calming voice to steer her back in the other direction. When the person pushes open the bathroom door and Aelin sees the navy blue stalls, she rips her arm away and falls to her knees before the porcelain bowl.

Long, slender fingers pull her hair back from her face and rub her shoulders as Aelin loses her breakfast. "You are okay," the voice consoles—a hand massages up her spine and soothes the aches there.

Aelin's whole body is shuddering now. Her stomach rolls over itself, and the muscles of her diaphragm are quaking with exertion. She doubts she could get to her feet if she tried. A strand of drool hangs from her lips, and Aelin would be humiliated if her head wasn't still reeling.

Gouged eyes. Bent fingers. Blood on her lips.

A wad of paper towels appears and dabs at her cheeks, which Aelin hadn't even realized were wet with tears. She failed to notice that her body was shuddering under the intensity of the sobs coming from her. The woman continues to pat her cheeks and nose. Then to her mortification, it swipes at the spit hanging from her mouth.

Mala end me now, she mentally pleads.

Aelin looks up to find a woman with raven hair and onyx eyes looking at her sympathetically. "I'm sorry, dear. I don't mean to overstep. I've been where you are before. Please don't be embarrassed."

Opening her mouth, Aelin makes to apologize, but another crackling sob breaks from her chest instead.

She's just tired. Tired of being sad. Tired of feeling sick. Tired of being unable to even say his name without breaking down.

Arms wrap around Aelin's shoulders and tug her into an embrace. She allows her face to burrow into the woman's blazer as the grief racks through her body.

"Oh, sweety. It's going to be alright. I promise whatever is going on right now will work out." Fingers rake through Aelin's hair soothingly. It turns her to jello in the woman's arms. Her presence was just so motherly in a way that Aelin sorely misses.

She holds Aelin tight until she's calm enough to hold a plastic cup of water without dropping it. The woman helps her stand and wipes the mascara smudges off her cheeks with a damp towel. "There you go," she tosses the towel in the trash when she deems Aelin presentable. "Brand new, again."

"Thank you," Aelin breathes out at last. "I don't even know what to say."

"Say nothing," the woman waves her hand. "I've been pregnant before. Hormones. Nausea. It isn't an easy ride, dear. Besides, no one comes to a police station for a good reason." The woman pulls a stick of gum from a purse sitting on the sink and offers it to her. Aelin accepts it gratefully.

"Has anyone told you that stress isn't good for you?" Her kind eyes bore into Aelin worriedly. "You look very pale."

"I've been told. Many times." Aelin rubs her forehead, an ache already forming there. "I just don't have much of a choice."

"What's your name? I'm Maeve." She smiles and extends a hand for Aelin to shake.

Aelin takes the hand, happy that they aren't trembling so badly. "Aelin."

"Do you have any name ideas for the baby?" Maeve's eyes glance down towards the slight swell of her belly a little wistfully.

Names? Aelin periodically forgot that the human growing inside of her would pop into the world and require such a thing. It was a far-off event where she had plenty of time to accommodate for things in her head. In reality, she was halfway through her fourth month.

Time was ticking.

"No. I don't have any ideas yet." Aelin admits.

Maeve pats Aelin's shoulder kindly. "That's just fine. Ignore my curiosity. You have plenty of time if-" she emphasizes, "you take better care of yourself."

There is a knock on the door. "Aelin, are you alright?"

Rowan.

"Yes. I'll be back in a minute," Aelin says through the door.

She waits until his footsteps echo back down the hallway before she makes towards the exit. Eager to leave the bathroom and the memories of her awkward breakdown with it. "Thanks again. Really. I appreciate it."

Aelin truly meant it despite the utter humiliation she felt.

"Let me walk you back to Rowan's office?" Maeve asked. "It's easy to get turned around in this building."

They walked in a comfortable silence back to the office. Maeve's demeanor is so tranquil it surprises Aelin when the demure woman pushes the door open without knocking. "I have a delivery for you boys."

"Chief?" Rowan stands up, confused.

What? Aelin blinks and turns back to the woman, noting the black and whites and the metal badge on the breast of her blazer. The same blazer Aelin had just cried on.

Blood rushed to her face, and her brain curdles in her skull. Of course, it was the law of Orynth whose arms she just broke down in. Adarlan's Assassin reduced to a ball of hormones clinging to the chief detective of Terrasen like a baby clinging to its mother.

"Has she caused trouble?" Rowan's eyes glint with steel.

If you've done anything to degrade me to my boss, the deal is off.

"Not at all. We ran into each other in the bathroom and had a lovely chat," Maeve brushes an invisible piece of dust from Aelin's shoulder. "I will let the three of you get back to business. You are in excellent company."

Aelin's lip quirks. Just the opposite. She loves me. Congratulations, you are already reaping the benefits of my presence.

"Oh, and Fenrys?" Aelin looks at Fenrys, who is actively ignoring them. "The reports you promised are late. Have them to my desk by the end of the day, please."

"Will do, Chief." Fenrys' reply is dry and lacks his usual pep.

Aelin notes the worried glance Rowan throws him, but he swiftly covers it with an expressionless mask. "I will make sure he gets it done."

What was that? Aelin tries to pry an answer from Rowan, but he avoids her look.

When Maeve leaves, the tension eases from the men's shoulders.

"You are trouble," Rowan tosses at her without venom.

Aelin picks up the cup of tea she left at his desk, glad it's still warm. "Yes, but only the best kind."

"We haven't laid out a single plan for weaseling out Arobynn," Fenrys makes an irritated face at them. "If either of you could focus for ten minutes, we can do the rest of the questioning later, but we need to start throwing out ideas."

"Did Rowan piss in your tea in the last ten minutes I was gone?" Aelin shoots back, not appreciating his sudden attitude.

"Thirty," Rowan says. "You were gone for thirty minutes. That's why I came looking for you. Also, ruining beverages is your thing, not mine."

Damn, had she been gone that long? A glance at the clock confirms he was correct.

When she turns back to Rowan, there is almost something like worry in his eyes? That couldn't be right, Aelin rubs that aching side of her head again. She needed to stop reading so deeply into things.

"We can continue with questioning later," Rowan announces. "Fenrys is correct in saying we need to start making plans. You've given us enough to work with for now."

They sat back in their chairs, pulled out more notepads, red pens, and sticky notes. Together, Aelin helped them form a list of potential places Arobynn would be laying low. Hotels, rental homes, and vacant manors. He had a taste for luxury Aelin knew he wouldn't sacrifice for anonymity.

Test results were still running on the Synth. Technicians had let them know it showed highly abnormal properties compared to average street drugs, and they promised to send them an extensive report when they were through.

Rowan had hushed any potential news stories about The Stag shooting. He didn't want anyone who may know Celaena to catch wind and start snooping around. Aelin was his best lead, which afforded her a certain level of discretion he acknowledged.

They didn't know about the Bane patrolling her block at night, keeping their eyes on the streets for unusual activity.

The clock ticked, and the light beaming through the winders grew warmer as the afternoon trickled away. It was nearly five o'clock when Rowan declared then done for the day, and Aelin was utterly exhausted.

"Come on," Fenrys offered her a hand to help her stand. "I can drive you by the prison. Aedion should be getting checked out as we speak."

"Thank you," Aelin accepts the help. Her feet ached, and she felt entirely drained. It was good Fenrys was offering a ride, or she'd have to call Dorian to come and get her.

Together, the three of them made their way to the parking lot. Conversation between them was sparse but not unpleasant. They'd fallen into a rhythm at some point while working together. It helped break up some of the awkwardness between her and Rowan.

Aelin hustled a little bit when she spotted Fenry's luxury car. She wanted to claim the front seat before Rowan did. Her gut couldn't handle the stress of riding the back.

Her fingers barely grazed the polished handle when Fenrys started yelling.

Arms wrapped around her waist, and Aelin's face throbbed as it found itself slammed into the asphalt. A loud explosion rattled her ears, and chunks of debris went flying through the air. A thick foggy smoke started filling the air, and she immediately started choking on it.

A dense weight lifts off her back, and hands grab her shoulders, rolling her body to face the clouded sky instead of the ground. Rowan is in her personal space immediately. He's speaking to her, but no sound is penetrating the ringing in her ears.

His hands are running along her arms, the side of her face, checking for injury. Aelin tries to ask him if he's alright, but he doesn't seem able to hear her either.

Suddenly, Fenrys is there, and he's grabbing them both by the arms. They are moving away at a sprint. Fenrys is yelling, but the smoke is stinging her eyes, and even seeing is becoming hard.

There is another explosion, and Aelin can feel the tremors beneath the soles of her shoes as the three of them hit the ground once more.

People are pouring out of the precinct. Aelin spies Cheif Maeve at the front of them, ordering people out of the building. Red and blue lights reflect off the smoke, and she knows that ambulances must be on their way.

Rowan is lying beside her. She hadn't noticed the rips in the back of his suit jacket at first, but there were long gouges in the material, and smoke wafted off a couple of scorch marks. The fact he'd thrown himself over her body and shielded her from the explosion was only starting to register when something warm squeezed her hand.

Are you okay? Green eyes were scouring her body for wounds.

I'm fine, Aelin assures him. She's more concerned about the spots on the back of his suit growing wet as he bled.

"Someone blew up my car," Fenrys is gaping at the spot where his vintage ride used to be. All that remained was a roughed-up frame that was lit ablaze like a campfire.

"Gods," Aelin breathed out, the ringing in her ears dying down. "I almost died."

Rowan hadn't let go of her hand and made no move to do so as his eyes fixed on the burning car. "That was meant for us."

He didn't have to elaborate for Aelin to understand. Whoever had placed the bomb hadn't been targeting her, but Rowan and Fenrys. They arrived and left work together. The bomb wasn't there when they got to the precinct this morning, so someone must have placed it while they were inside.

"What have we gotten ourselves into?" Fenrys runs a dirty hand through his hair.

Sirens wailed as paramedics filed into the parking lot. Other detectives and officers were starting to approach them. Firefighters approached the car with extinguishers and began to tame the burning fire.

Aelin didn't have an answer. Just the sinking feeling that the game they'd entered into had more players than she'd thought.

Here is part one of the mass updates! Thank you SO much for reading. I’ve gotten so much feedback and love on this fic it’s been so wonderful 💚

I do have an ✨IMPORTANT QUESTION✨

Would you all prefer I have tag lists specific to certain fics or an overall tag list for ships? So one tag list for all of my rowaelin fics, one for all my quinlar fics, or would you like me to keep it as I have been? Please let me know! ✨

Tag list- Let me know if you would like to be added or removed. :D ( names in bold won’t tag)

@thisismylibrary

@highladywhitethrone

@bee55

@royalsqueeze

@rowaelin-cressworth

@booknerdproblems

@sjmships

@ladyfireheart-and-buzzard

@wordsxstars

@rowaelinismyotp

@courtofjurdan

@emmiesbook

@killian-me-slowly

@miserablemusings

@aelinchocolatelover

@booksbqueen

@flamingveritas

@tomtenadia

@fromthelibraryofemilyj

@loudphantomdragon

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato

@superspiritfestival

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@nish247

@vasudharaghavan

@maybekindasortaace

@mariamuses

@frosted-crackers

@foughtconquered

@live-the-fangirl-life

@ghostlyrose2

#coffeeshopau #rowaelin #throne of glass #angst #aelin #fanfic #rowan whitethorn

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 3 years

Text

Unexpected Places (Pt. 08 of 11)

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless X Reader/Bjorn X Reader

Word count: 1.8 K

Summary: As a princess, you've lived in a golden cage all your life, always a piece on someone else's game. But everything changed when the Norsemen came crushing down on Wessex, like waves in a violent storm. Their king spared your life and decided to take you with him to his kingdom, in what felt more like a rescue than a kidnapping. There, you were not only confronted with a completely different culture and lifestyle, but also with two of his sons. The oldest one has his eyes set on you, but it's the youngest one, Ivar, who gets who claimed your attention since the first sight. And he seems to have an unnamed interest in you. Of course you hoped whatever that was would pass, but when unexpected feelings start to flow a different way, things begin to change.

<- Previous part (07)

Next part (09)->

{Vikings Masterlist}

Bolt of Lightning

“I can't believe I did that.” You say in between laughs as you enter the main hall. “Does your ass hurt, Hvitserk?” Somehow, while training with Hvitserk, Ivar's clutch found its way to be behind his legs, and with a little distraction and a push, you knocked him down on his ass. It wasn't an actual fight, since you know he takes things a lot easier with you, but still, it made you and Ivar laugh until you cried. And no, you won't ever let this go.

“That wasn't fair.” He says, a finger on your face. “You should be careful with me, Ice Lady.”

“Oh, now he's threatening you.” Ivar sing-songs.

“He's threatening me.” You repeat, sitting on the table and putting your feet on the bench, in between the two bothers. “As if I'm scared of you.”

“You should be.” Hvitserk doesn't enjoy much the fact that you and Ivar paried up to tease him. And you love that he hates it. Taking the jar and three cups, he passes them around, serving you but refusing to serve Ivar, who looks at him with a fake annoyed stare.

Rolling your eyes, you give Ivar your cup, taking his empty one and pouring some of the drink in it, almost spilling everything. “Skol.” You say before taking long sips.

“Skol,” Hvitserk repeats, and at the same moment, you feel your cup being pushed up, the liquid flowing out and rolling down your chin and neck. “Oh, shit.” Hvitserk laughs, and when you put the cup down, you realize it wasn't him.

“You idiot!” Shouting, you take the jar, and in a fast movement, you succeed to throw some at Ivar. But he holds your wrist with one hand, making the jar hover above his head, encircling both your legs with his free arm and pulling you down from the table, your butt hitting the bench hard. “Ouch!”

“Now, is your ass hurting?” Ivar asks, his voice messed up by how hard he's laughing.

“You're such a jerk!” You try to stand up, but Ivar has you trapped, with an arm around your waist, forcing your back against the table. So you give up trying to set free, focusing your efforts on trying to spill what's left of the drink on him. “Don't you like drinking straight from the jar? Drink this.” You mutter, just as you manage to twist your wrist, spilling it partly on the floor and partly on his left arm.

“Stop wasting it.” The loud voice makes you both stop, and you get the feeling that the eye roll is mutual. Bjorn sits on the further edge of the table, a cup in his hands.

“We have plenty.” Ivar snaps back, getting a hard stare from his older brother.

Slightly pissed, you turn around, sitting now facing the table. The atmosphere changes, but you grew used to it. Since the lake incident, you haven't been around Bjorn a lot. He did try to apologize, and despite you assuring him that's in the past, it's not enough. You don't know what he wants, but you don't care. Seeing you around Ivar doesn't help, and you're around him a lot now. “So. It's getting colder every day.” You mutter, drumming your fingers on the table, hoping to change the subject and ease the tension.

“We're in the middle of winter, what were you expecting?” Hvitserk says, with a dramatic eye roll.

Kicking his leg under the table, you giggle. “I know. But it wasn't this cold on Wessex. I'm struggling.”

“It always helps when you have someone to warm you up at night.” Hvitserk gives you a look, right before glancing at his brother. “It's better than blankets.”

“Really?” You ask him, resting your elbows on the table.

“Really.” Bjorn's laugh gets Hvitserk's attention, and whatever he was going to say, it's forgotten. “What, Bjorn?”

“Nothing, nothing.” He mutters, shrugging his shoulders. “I was just thinking that there's no reason to worry if (Y/N) and Ivar want to use each other's body to stay warm at night.” His voice is full of anger, and he gives you a hard, mocking stare.

Exchanging a glance with Hvitserk, you notice how he looks down as if removing himself from the conversation. Turning to look at Ivar, searching for some explanation, you see how furious he is, but also embarrassed. What is going on here?

“What do you mean, Bjorn?” You speak up, not willing to let this go. If he started it, he better explain it.

“(Y/N), don't–”

“Ivar is incapable of... Let's say, fathering children.” He chuckles, his face half-hidden as he drinks up.

“What–”

“Whatever sickness he has on the legs, it also affected what's up there.” He continues, and you don't understand why he's bringing that up now. Why is he talking about something that clearly affects his brother? Is he just jealous?

Taking a deep breath, you bite your lip to prevent all the curse words that fill your head to come out. “How can you be so sure?”

“He tried once.” Hvitserk whispers, clenched fists on the table.

You can feel as Ivar gets tense beside you, so you quickly search for his hand under the table, holding it tightly. “He tried once. Only once. He failed and never tried again?”

“C'mon, (Y/N). You can't possibly think–”

“You can't possibly think that saying this will immediately make me pick you instead.” The words flow out, and you don't think much. The only thing you want is to put Bjorn in his place because he can't just treat his brother like that. “Ivar is not less of a man just because he's crippled. Actually, he has to be a lot stronger than common people, and for that I admire him.”

“Are you truly in love with him, (Y/N)?” Bjorn asks, and you feel a sudden heat on your cheeks, your heart starting to pound stronger.

“It's not your business, Bjorn.” You say, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Do whatever you want. It's your life.” Putting the cup down violently, he stands up and leaves.

Ivar soon follows, letting go of your hand and ignoring when you call him. Sighing, you exchange a glance with Hvitserk. “What do I do, Hvit?” you mutter, running a hand through your hair.

“If you want Ivar despite the... Difficulties... You have to make him see that. Him and everyone else because people will try to talk you out of it.”

Nodding, mostly to yourself, you know there's truth in his words. Ivar is a force of nature himself, but he's still human. And you know that, despite his strength, things still get to him.

The rest of the afternoon and evening goes by without any other situation. You meet Helga at the market place and invite her and Floki over for dinner. During the meal, Ivar doesn't show up, but you don't ask anyone about it. You know why he's hiding away. Bjorn, on the other hand, seems pretty happy not to see his brother around, but you struggle not to say anything and ruin the mood. You do manage to have some fun, listening to Floki's stories. He also seems to be growing used to your presence, since his wife took a liking to you.

A few hours later, you're at your room, in the sleeping gown, ready to get some sleep. Your muscles are sore from training, even though half the time you spent joking around. And your mind is tired too, from all the thoughts racing through.

How do you prove Ivar you don't mind the... Difficulties? Telling him would certainly be a mess. You'd blush like crazy, stutter, and maybe even make sound wrong. You should've ask Hvitserk for strict directions instead of just the general idea. Bracing yourself, you sit on the edge of the bed. These walls fail to keep the cold outside, or maybe it's the winter, way too harsh, pushing through the wood. It would surely be nice to have someone else here, to make you warm.

The idea that comes to your head is madness. But maybe, just maybe, it would make him see that, despite Bjorn's little show, you still want to be around him. So, taking a deep breath and praying for it not to backfire, you rush out of your room, the light fabric of the nightgown doing nothing to keep the cold from creeping over your skin. Tiptoeing, careful not to let anyone listen to you moving through the place, you quickly find Ivar's room, lightly knocking on his door, hoping that he's not sleeping yet.

When you hear the door opening, you release a breathe you didn't even know you were holding. Ivar is on the ground, looking up at you. “(Y/N)?”

“Hey.” You can't tell he's still embarrassed by the way he doesn't sustain your stare. But you don't say anything, walking inside and letting him push the door close before locking it. “It's really cold. Do you mind if I stay?” Not waiting for an answer, you walk towards the bed, pulling the blankets away and lying down.

It takes a while until you hear Ivar moving, coming back to bed. With your eyes open in the dim light, you hear his breathing. You're not sure what to say to make him understand that you want him. Because you do. You haven't noticed, but now, like a sudden bolt of lightning announcing a storm, you know.

So, taking a deep breath, you toss around, moving to lay your head on his chest. Your cheeks are burning, and there's a funny sensation on your stomach. “Sorry, but I'm really cold.” You mutter, eyes tightly shut, hoping Ivar won't push you away. But when you feel his arm around your waist, you can't help but smile, your thumb caressing his skin.

“What Bjorn said–”

“To hell with Bjorn.” Cutting him off, you take a deep breath, getting comfortable. “He's just jealous, the idiot.”

“That he is,” Ivar mutters, placing a kiss at the top of your head. “So are you going to sleep here now?” The cocky tone is back, making you giggle.

“Maybe. Let's see if you can make me warm tonight. I'll give you the answer in the morning.” Shrugging your shoulders, you bite back a smile. “Now, good night.”

“Good night, princess.”

Closing your eyes, you embrace the feeling of being here. You never thought you'd be that brave, given how you were raised. But then again, you never thought you'd end up in a place like this, in someone's arms like this. But now you know, better than anyone, that the best things can come from unexpected places.

Tomorrow, you'll have to deal with what was left outside this room. But right now, there's nothing but you and Ivar, and the silence, peacefully surrounding you.

@multific @revolution-starter @crackhead1-800 @youbloodymadgenius @clown-boyyy @kitten0394 @castielsangelx-blog @goldlion07 @midnightmystic @readsalot73 @xvxcarolinexvx @momowhoo @fangfoxy @msrawog @walkingonshunshine @alytavzla @anotherfan07 @heavenly1927 @msrawog @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

#ivar the boneless imagine #ivar imagine #ivar x reader #imagine ivar #imagine ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless fanfiction #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar vikings x reader #imagine ivar vikings #ivar vikings imagine #vikings #vikings x reader #imagine vikings #vikings imagine

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maxsix · 3 years

Note

I usually read your tags because I love them. Honestly, your latest tag about the world not being that black and white gave me a little strenght. His supporters are being called stupid brainless trash on a daily basis and it really feels like a kick everytime. Everything happened so fast and people started to drag somebody based on a lot of mistranslation and one-sided reports. He was at wrong. It is a fact. He met with victims and apologised to them personally. I have to embrace the fact that he had behaviour issues in the past. Despite these facts, I think he already changed and the artist who is being dragged now and we defend, learned from his past because he saw that it could come and bite him in the a**. I believe that he learned and will try hard to be even better in the future. What makes me sad is the which-hunt against him. I cannot count how many accusations came to the surface in the past days but it feels like none of them are being treated like his case. In some other cases people even mentioned that the public wants to tear idols down to see them fall no matter what, but he never had this support from either side of the commenters. Twitter went crazy, fans tried to do everything out of love and fear but these actions did more harm than help. Anyways, I don't want to think that the competition made things worse but I cannot help it, it is the first thing which comes into my mind. I'm usually pessimistic and it feels like he won't return as he is treated like the worst desease in his country. I hope that fans will be able to accept whatever comes in the future for him. I hope that the victims will find peace and will be able to heal, nobody should blame them for something like speaking up. All of us have to move on one way or another. Some of us will stay, some of us will leave, it should be respected regardless. Thank you for supporting him and being active! As I said, it gives me strenght to see opinions like yours.

I just think a lot people make mistakes. To err is human, after all. Retribution is expected and the punishment should try to fit the crime. He was a shitty teenager, who on earth is even denying that? I sure as hell do not. But shitty teenagers especially should also be afforded the chance to change and grow, otherwise we’ll just get more shitty adults, and those are by far more scary and damaging to themselves and society.

I’ve also experienced being called a “stupid blind stan”. I resent that notion. I’m not blind to his behaviour and I understand why the punishment is important but at the same time, it is interesting that they are punishing an adult for something he did as a child. I’d feel differently if he abused people as an adult but he was a child and I think that context is important. I won’t speak more on the punishments because if that’s how they do things over there in SK then I’ll respect it. It’s important for victims to get closure and find peace too.

I know KPOP isn’t a big deal (to some people) and we’re all anonymous fans to him in the end but for me it’s the principle: I won’t immediately or reflex-abandon a person just because they made a mistake (that didn’t involve murder or a death). I personally just don’t think it’s helpful to society at large if we always just continue to abandon every single person who makes a mistake, especially if they’ve shown they’re not repeating the same behaviours moving forward.

I’m getting off topic here but honestly: What does that teach children? How does that help? Do people think there’s a mysterious land where “bad people” go? Nope. Unless you’ve got a life sentence, jails are not a forever pit stop either. These “bad people” eventually re-intergrate back into our society and we best hope someone has been supportive of their growth along the way.

As to people saying, “if you don’t want to get into scandals, then don’t do bad things!”. I didn’t realise I was living with all these re-incarnations of the Good Lord Jesus Christ. Of course we should all strive to be “good” humans but we’re still humans after all. There are no perfect humans. Ever.

Forgiveness is really hard. Trust is really hard. And I feel like he’s going to have to work so hard to gain either of those things back. How he moves forward is really his decision. He has to decide what kind of man he’s going to grow into. And he’s got a whole lot of growing up to do.

#education is key #it starts with the culture #it starts with how schools are run #it starts with teachers #it starts with parents #once you're into adulthood.....bro it's too late #bickering isn't helpful #solutions are helpful #justice not vengeance #as my good friend Batman would say ahaha #another essay #sigh #sorry #text

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multifandom-girlie · 4 years

Text

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞

Imagine: You have a serious argument and he lashes out in front of unsuspecting eyes.

Pairing: Klaus x Human!Reader

Warnings: Violence, Traumatic distress.

Words: 1694

Edited: Yes

Recently, my husband Klaus and I have been in a really bad place in our relationship. Rightfully so, Elijah staked himself to save me from possessing The Hollow and killing myself to make certain Klaus didn't lose 'the love of his life' or our children didn't lose their mother. Ever since, he's distanced himself and I understand, he lost his best friend, his brother and his mentor and he never prepared himself for it because he was immortal. But as of late, I've been getting pushed away and I don't really notice being pushed away until I'm alone and not busy like right now. Obviously I've had to stay strong for the kids and they know their father is struggling immensely and I know Klaus is angry and doesn't want to take that out on the kids. The problem is we haven't talked in months...eight months.

He's never home to talk or see the kids or anyone, he's always drunk and reeks of alcohol and comes home at stupid times in the morning which wakes the kids up. Which ends up being a nightmare when I have to get up whilst he passes out for the next day and then goes on his Midnight adventures. Truth is I don't feel like he loves me anymore and it's starting to hurt more and more, since I actually have time to think.

It's currently 6 pm and I'm cooking dinner for the boys and Nathalia(our children). Tonight it was honey salmon and vegetables, although mommy's having a little more wine tonight than salmon. I was just putting my glass of red down before chopping the carrots when Klaus walked in grabbed a bottle of beer out of the fridge and threw the lid on the counter right next to the bin.

"Dick."

He stopped and turned around walking towards the counter and placing the bottle on the counter.

"What was that love ?"

I continued to chop another carrot, ignoring the warmth of his body so close to mine. Having not being touched in weeks was starting to hit me but I wouldn't let it reach.

"That's what I thought. "

Ignoring him, I continued preparing dinner.

"Your so fucking immature Y/N."

He walked out the house and slammed the door behind him.

***

I had just started to clean up dinner as I didn't do it straight away after we ate. As I had to bath the kids and get them ready for bed before Klaus got home. No doubt he'd yell at me if they were still awake. I managed to polish off two and a half bottles of red tonight and I was finishing off the rest of the bottle whilst cleaning up. I heard the door open and my eyes shot to the clock, checking the time. 1:45 am, just on time. I was putting the last plate away when I downed my glass and put the wine away. Klaus walked up behind me and started to kiss my neck, his alcohol ridden breath hitting me but also a sweet smell.... is that perfume ?! I pushed him away and tried going upstairs. He grabbed my arm and yanked me back.

"What do you want Klaus ?"

"I want to fuck you."

"Not happening. The stench of perfume and sex already on you is making me sick."

"Oh stop judging love."

"I'm sorry, did you just tell me to stop judging ?! You cheated on me you cunt."

"It was one girl and it didn't mean anything."

"Whatever Klaus."

I decided to walk into the living room to put away the toys that weren't put away. He downed the rest of his beer he brought home with him and got another one. He sat down and drank some more. I finished cleaning and went to walk upstairs. I quickly realised that he was actually talking to me and that I had an opportunity to sort this out.

"Babe ?"

He groaned.

"What love ?"

"We need to talk."

"I don't want to talk Y/N."

"We need too. How has our relationship come to this ?"

"What do you mean Y/N?"

"I mean you don't talk to me anymore, you sleep all day, cheat on me all night and you don't even see the kids anymore."

He scoffed and walked into the kitchen to get another beer and he leant against the counter. I followed him in and placed myself in front of him.

"Klaus stop avoiding this. Talk to me !"

He started to let the alcohol take over and he started to raise his voice.

"Fuck off Y/N, I don't want to talk !"

"Why ?"

"Because I hate you ! That's why !"

"So ten minutes ago you wanted to have sex and now you hate me. Are you fucking bipolar?! Stop raising your voice as well, the kids are asleep."

"I don't give it a shit about waking the fucking kids Y/N."

"I swear to god, you wake those beautiful children upstairs and I'm kicking you out, I promise you."

"Your not kicking me out of my own house. Your the one that started this."

"Please tell me, how ?!"

"You killed my brother ! It's your fault he's fucking dead ! I can live without you but he's my fucking brother Y/N."

"Are you fucking kidding me ?! How the hell is that my fault Klaus, I didn't ask him to do that. He did it because he cares about you !"

"No he cares about you ! He didn't give a shit about me, he didn't want you to die because he loved you ! Not for me or the kids, you !"

"So that's what this is about ? You think he loved me more ?!"

"No, I know he loved you more ! But you still fucking killed my brother and I hate you for that."

"I'm not gonna stand here and listen to this ! I deserve better than this."

"Really ? So you and Elijah didn't kiss on New Years then no ? He didn't proceed to kiss you again on your birthday ? and Mine ?!"

"I NEVER kissed back Nik !"

"Don't fucking lie to me Y/N ! I fucking saw it !"

"I just told you Nik, I never kissed back. He kissed me !"

"I don't believe you. I don't believe you love me anymore. Do you ?"

"Nik..."

"Do you !"

I stood there looking at him in the eyes, I didn't want to lie to him but I didn't know how he'd react. He slammed his beer bottle on the counter and walked over to me, pinning me against the wall by my shoulders.

"Answer me !"

I closed my eyes, allowing tears to roll down my face. I flinched as his hand touched my face, his eyes softened a little but quickly went hard once again. I opened my eyes bravely and shrugged at him whilst biting my bottom lip to keep my cries in. His hard exterior fell from his face and a tear rolled down his cheek, he stumbled backwards and turned his back to me. I walked slowly over to him and placed my small hand on his shoulder without realising that it triggered his anger to surface. The next thing I knew I was pinned up again the wall by my neck and a hard punched reached my nose, breaking it. I fell to the ground and he grabbed another beer out the fridge and sat staring at me emptily, whilst chugging his beer down.

I laid on the floor clutching my nose and trying not to scream to worry the kids, I never wanted them to find out about this. So I struggled to get up and when I finally stood up so did Klaus and he yanked me back by my hair and placed his mouth near my ear.

"You tell no one about this, do you understand me ?"

I didn't reply, I was in too much pain but he yanked harder and the mass of tears flowing down my cheeks got heavier.

"Do you ?!"

"Y-Yes."

He bit into his wrist and forced it in my mouth, forcing his healing blood down my throat. My nose re-positioned and the pain vanished, almost as if it were never there. He sat me down on the sofa and he got me a glass of water once I gulped it down, he pulled me into his side. I heard him gulped and a few tears land on my head. He was crying.

"I'm sorry for everything. Pushing you away, blaming you for Elijah's sacrifice, cheating on you but most importantly for laying my hands on you. I'm meant to be your protector not the person who causes the things you need to be protected from."

I sat up and grabbed his face, before kissing him passionately. He kissed back. For once I felt as if things were actually going to get better. Klaus stopped pushing me away, he didn't lay a finger on me again or sleep with another girl. He was my husband and father of my kids again.

Little did the know their eldest son saw the whole thing.

***

Henry's POV

I was sleeping peacefully like usual, which meant my dad wasn't home yet thank god. I hate him so much. He treats my mom like shot and I still have to pretend like I know nothing because my mom thinks we are so oblivious to the mistreatment. Then I checked my phone 2:05 am followed with a slam downstairs. I snuck down the stairs, knowing full well I was dead meat if I was found out of bed. I got to the middle balcony of stairs and had a perfect view in the kitchen and as soon as I got there I sat down and saw dad yelling at my mom. Next thing I see is her on the floor with him a broken nose and my dad being smug about it. I went back up to my bedroom to perfect my plan.

How was I to kill my father ?

***

Children:

Daughter-4 years old named Nathalia.

Son-9 years old named Ansel.

Son-15 years old named Daniel

Part 2

MASTERLIST

#klaus mikaelson #klaus x reader #klaus mikealson x reader #domestic abuse #violence #TVD #to

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xviicprc · 4 years

Note

You have a very cute style and yes I realize I'm sending this ask while your profile pic is your mastersona with blood on her but it's true! (also she's cute I'd like to know more about her if that's okay?)

Hi hi. Sorry to answering so late!

So.... About My Mastersona.......

Cyra Kuromaki!

An extremly Average mage-

She is the daughter of two Mages, her father used to be a teacher in the Mage Association, while her mother is the oldest among her siblings and the one who inherited her Family’s Crest.

In theory, she should have been an excelent Mage, but her parents Magical Affinities were literal opposites, so they "nullified" eachother, leaving Cyra someone with tons of Mana, but no way to use it. Like having a powerful battery with no device to use it on-

So, Cyra was seen as "the weakest link of the chain" to both sides of her family. Which in the Fate World its the biggest dishonor™ to Mages, ever.

So she has no formal training in Magic, and only knows things in “theory”- her parents didn’t find it necesary to train someone who couldn’t even shoot the most basic of spells.

And, she joined Chaldea one day, merely by the benefits it would bring.

After all, it IS another prestigious Magical institution, and to Cyra, "It still counted". And it would lessen the sting of being someone who never could archieve anything in the Mage World.

Of course the Grand Order happened.

"Guess I have to save humanity. This sucks, I am part of humanity".

Someone who always follows every command given to her in the beggining, but to not be held responsible when things go wrong, even if the order is wrong. “They can’t blame me if I do as they said, that’s on them” she would say if you called her out on this. You should thank her parents for that.

It took some time for her to be able to act without any commands.

She doesn’t get along with Mash or Olga at the beggining.

In regards to Mash, she found her too clingy and “spoke too much“. But she mellows out with her the more she understood why Mash is the way she is, to the point where they became really good friends.

Olga on the other hand- she hated her guts. Cyra always had to bite her tongue around her, while internaly screaming. She even called Olga "bitch" when she said Cyra would be fired after they returned from Fuyuki, and promply recieved a slap to the face.

She didn’t take it back though.

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

Cyra always speaks her mind, with no sort of filter- which leads to her to clash a lot with many Servants at the beggining.

However, she does apologize later. If you show her why she was wrong, she’ll take your words at heart. And she wants to be a better person, being confined in a Antartic base with Heroes from the Past and the rest of the destroyed wasn’t what she expected to mature, but hey! If it works, it works!

While the Grand Order consumes most of her time, whenever she catches a break you can find her drawing in many places inside Chaldea (and even inside Singularities). She mostly draws the Heroic Spirits, the many places they explore, and even some members of the staff. If you were to look at her drawings, you could easily guess the order in which Servants appeared in Chaldea.

Interactions with other Servants would be:

The First Servant to answer her summons is Martha, who ends up treating Cyra like a little sister. They get along extremly well. Martha likes that Cyra doesn’t hide how she feels or if she doesn’t like something, while Cyra admires Martha for her strength and for being able to tame Tarasque while still having what people wouldn’t consider “the proper attitude of a saint” (Which both of them agree is stupid).

Her interactions with the children Servants start out very awkard. She doesn’t know how to handle them, and says “She is a horrible influence!” for them. So she avoided them at first. The first real interaction they had was when Nursery and Jack aproached her while drawing. “I want to try it out too!”. Later that day, she got them crayons and other art supplies for them to have fun. She still remembers how fun it was to be a kid and draw, and Cyra carefuly saves the drawings they made for her.

At the start of the Grand Order, the more boisterous Servants, like Drake or Cu made her nervous and jumpy. Explotions? No problem! Voices louder than average? “That is never a good sign”. Luckily, she gets over that anxiety she feels and learns to have fun with them.

If she is talking to herself, murmuring, or anything of the sort, there is a great chance someone else is there too.

Is good friends with Karna. Cyra is always happy to see him, and you ber they’ll perfom the Special Handshake. They are both “the quiet friend”, and if you find them together, they are definitively vibin in silence. And both “failed at communication” many times, so that’s another thing in common they have.

Cyra keeps a distance from most of the “King” Servants, the only concrete exception being Artoria, because she was one of the very First Servants Cyra summoned and has known her the longest. That, and, Artoria doesn’t have “the same attitude as them”.

-----------

WELL wasn’t that long!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hhh im still working on her story and such- I’m more of an artist than a writer, so its easier for me to tell stories and such on drawings than in text format haha.

Thank you for asking about Cyra!!!!! Im also happy you find my art cute and wanted to know more about my self indulgent oc hahahahhaa

#fgo #mastersona #gudasona #fate grand order #master oc #cyra #tricketra

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howtodisassembleyourdeviant · 4 years

Note

Hi! So... I often see people write about virgin!Connor/non-virgin reader, where the reader has to teach him stuff and everything. But can you write something in which they're BOTH virgins? Imagine how sweet and awkward it would be. And how would Connor feel about virgin!reader? Relieved, that he isn't the only one? Worried, about taking their virginity? Or something else? Can you write something like this for F!reader? I'm super curious about this kinda stuff!

I hope this was worth the wait! Once I got the flow, this was fun to write!

Being in a relationship with a human is markedly different than dating within his own kind. Humans have needs that androids will never have. Connor finds that he enjoys the differences for the most part. He likes taking you on dinner dates, even if he can't eat. You always dress so nice and he likes to watch you eat, even if it embarrasses you. He likes buying snacks and treats he knows you'll like, seeing your face light up when he presents them to you. Recently, he likes feeding you things, like grapes. Feeling your tongue lightly flick the sensors on his fingers sends a shiver down his spine. You always complain that he spoils you, and it might be true, but the android has found that he over-indulges in his own way.

Sometimes Connor forgets about your human limitations. A walk around town is nothing to him, but after a while, you start slowing down. You don't want to disappoint him (though he thinks that to be impossible), so you often don't tell him when you start to tire or your feet start to hurt until it's too late. The android feels guilty to put that kind of strain on you, taking you home immediately. You constantly reassure him that you had fun and it's fine. Still, he rubs your legs once he gets you home, often until you fall asleep.

Though, he cringes when he thinks back to the first time he tried to massage your calves. Your body is so delicate, where his isn't, and he wasn't made to be gentle. Its something he has only learned through you. When he went to relieve pain, he instead caused it, a large bruise forming. While you were quick to forgive him, he was terrified. He could hurt you, did hurt you, and it could happen again. You showed him how to ease into things, and it helped, but its still something in the back of his mind.

Connor may forget your limitations, but he knows human needs. He knows that you need food, water, and rest. These are necessities for survival. However, surviving and thriving are two different things. In these aspects, androids and humans are alike. Wanting to feel safe and cherished, to be loved unconditionally. In this, words are often not enough. You did this so naturally, giving him hugs or letting him rest his head in your lap, your fingers carding through his hair. He slowly figured it out, going from awkward hugs to holding you while you slept. It had become a perfect relationship.

Or rather, almost perfect.

There is one human desire that the two of you had only danced around. Something that both intrigues and scares him.

Sex.

It was so intimate, and so much could go wrong. It wasn't something he was programmed to do, though he is capable. He wants to know what it's like, and to experience it with you. Though, he worries. What if he hurts you, or what if he can't perform to your expectations?

After a particularly steamy make-out session, he felt you wanted to take the relationship to the next level, but he got so nervous he pretended Markus requested him to New Jericho and dashed out. During the whole car ride back to Hank's, he berated himself for being so cowardly and denying you what should be a simple want.

Connor refused to be blindsided again. The next day, he studied intercourse, every facet, which he regretted, but it was for you. He wants to be your best lover, to completely satisfy you. He ran... Simulations... Gauging his stamina and testing techniques. He didn't expect to enjoy it as much as he did. It only built the anticipation for the act itself. All that he needed was the opportunity.

............

"... Hank is never gonna figure it out because he doesn't want to, " you laughed, entering your home with Connor following behind.

"You would think, considering the generation he grew up in, it would be second nature, " the RK800 locked your door, lending you his shoulder while you kicked off your heels.

"I think he grew up under a rock. Just be glad he even bothers with a phone at all. Who knows, maybe one day he'll answer your texts."

You both settled on your couch, Connor sitting while you laid down, resting your head on his lap, grinning up at him. He likes moments like these. Nothing that needs to be done and nowhere they need to go.

It had been a slow day at the department, so he asked if you would like to have a 'date night' as you called them. You agreed, telling him to come by at 7 pm. He took you to your favorite restaurant, paying for your meal before you could even begin to fight him on it, then a short walk around the park, just talking and joking. When it started getting late, you suggested he spend the night at your house to keep from disturbing Hank.

"You look stunning tonight, " Connors spoke, almost absentmindedly, as he started to play with your soft hair. You only giggled, a blush spreading over your cheeks.

"You've told me that at least four times tonight." You reached cupping his cheek. He instantly took it into his own hand, kissing your palm.

"And it remains true. You are gorgeous."

"And you are strikingly handsome, " you beamed, "I could stare at you all day."

"According to Hank, we are both guilty of that, " Connor's voice was lower, a breathless murmur. He released your hand, going to touch your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb, then your lips, suddenly fixated on their softness. You rolled onto your stomach, easing him to lay back onto the arm of the couch. He sat up enough to touch your lips with his, slowly laying back with you.

He can never get enough of this, even if he doesn't understand why. Your warm body, so soft laying on top of him, tangling your hand in his hair, the other caressing the nape of his neck. Your kisses always taste so sweet, nectar he's grown addicted to. Every subtle movement, quiet moan, and silenced gasp is pure bliss. When you open for him, he could feel himself buzzing with joy. His sensitive tongue getting a direct taste, twisting and dancing with yours. It all feels so nice. His hands held you, wanting you closer.

When you pull back for a quick breather, he recognizes the signs from before; your labored breathing, half-lidded eyes dilated, heart rate increasing, and your body is heating up, as evidence from your rosy cheeks. Connor wants so much to give you what you desire, but he can already feel his nerves setting in. You have expectations, but he isn't meant for this. His hands start to tremble, and he bites his lip, trying to will himself to calm down. He can do this. He won't hurt you and you will bask in the pleasure he gives you.

But what if he does hurt you? What if you hate his performance? What if everything falls apart? What if? What if? What if?

He can't do this.

"Connor?" You question when he shifts to sit up, and he's sure he can hear the disappointment in your voice. He turns, hiding his face in his hands while his stress level drops and his shame sets in.

"Connor, what's the matter?" You pulled his hands from his face, but he still wouldn't look at you.

"You should find another partner."

"What? Why?" You were shocked he would say that. You thought he was enjoying himself, but were you really making him uncomfortable?

"I can't do this. I'm not made to do this! How can I expect to meet your expectations if I've never done this before?" He stood, grabbing his jacket, still averting his gaze, "you should find someone who can satisfy you, like you deserve."

"Connor, " your voice is stern, but he ignores it. It's for the best, he thinks as he starts slipping his shoes back on.

"Dammit, Connor! Look at me!" You shouted, pushing off the couch and storming up to him. Shock made him finally meet your eyes once more, but the rage in them made him wish he had moved faster. He tried to back away, but only succeeded in cornering himself against the door. Your hand shot out and he flinched, expecting you to slap or hit him. Instead, you grabbed his collar and pulled him into a searing kiss. When he realized this was a different kind of 'slap to the face', he kissed back, so conflicted but so desperate for your touch.

When you pulled back this time, you had tears in your eyes. You rested your head against his chest.

"Don't ever say that again. Nobody else can make me feel how I do when I'm with you. I don't care what you are made for, as long as you still love me the way I love you despite it."

Connor's eyes widened, elated to hear you say that. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him and holding you tight.

"I do. I do love you, so much. I just want you to be happy." Even if it isn't with him. Though, he doesn't think he could endure the pain of being without you for long.

"I am happy. You make me happy. I don't care if we never have sex if it means I get to be with you." You lean back with a laugh, "I wouldn't know what I was missing anyway."

What?

"Have you never, or rather, are you..." Connor wasn't sure how to ask, but he was burning to know. Are you just like him? You were giggling at his befuddled expressions.

"I'm a virgin, Connor."

"But how?" Came his automatic response. You were gorgeous. Humans your age usually already had sex, some even had children. You should have had your pick of anyone you wanted.

"Well, I was born one and never had sex, so..." You joke, "I had other priorities growing up and when I got out of school, I just wasn't interested in casual dating," You looped your arms around his neck, "you're the only person to get this far."

He captured your lips once again. It was such a relief for him. Knowing you've never gone this far with anyone else made him feel special, that you chose him out of everyone to experience this with. This is something the two of you will explore together.

The possessive part that he only knows exists because of you also whispers in the back of his mind. After this, you will be permanently marked as his and he will be marked as yours. No matter what happens, he will be your first. If he has his way, he will be your last, too.

You pulled back sharply, gasping. While lost in his thoughts, he had forgotten you needed air.

"Sorry, I-"

"It's... Fine. Do you wanna... Move this to the bedroom?" Your own nerves were setting in, but you were also excited as Connor nodded, following after you.

Connor feels the same. He still has his doubts, but knowing that you both will need to experiment to find what is best, sets his mind at ease. He can go as slow as he needs to and not worry he will be boring you.

In your bedroom, he quickly unbuttons his shirt, slipping it off and setting it on your dresser. When he looked at you, he had to fight to hold back a laugh. The zipper of your dress was caught, and you were struggling to undo it. Why humans thought they could see their back if they spin around enough is beyond him, but he finds it funny nonetheless.

He takes your shoulders to stop you from spinning, smiling down at you. It's then that you see that he already had his shirt off. He had the perfect athletic build, not that it really surprised you. He was made to be perfect. To see it, though, reminded you that he was perfect, and you had your flaws. He was about to see you naked. Would he mind? You know he says he likes your imperfections, but to see all of them...

"Please, allow me," He murmurs, turning you around, hands gliding across your shoulders as he does. The zipper easily glides down. The dress must come with support as he notices you aren't wearing a bra. Once he finished, you turn around, still holding the dress up, hesitant.

"Are you ready?" You give him a nervous smile. He nods enthusiastically, excited to see another side to you. "Okay, " here goes nothing. You let go, and Connor's thirium pump seizes. An ache he has been dismissing intensifies, and he bites his lip to stop the sound that threatened to leave his mouth.

With his lack of response, you start feeling embarrassed, arms trying to cover you. Connor takes hold of your arms.

"Don't. I want to see, " he gently pulls them away, "you're so beautiful." You blushed harder at his words, relaxing while he lowers you to the bed, settling on top of you.

He kisses your plump lips one last time before trailing along your cheek, your jaw, and to your neck. He found a spot that made you gasp. The breathlessness of it was so... Arousing. He wants to hear it again. When kissing it again doesn't work as well, he tries sucking. Hearing you moan was so much better, your hand flying to the back of his head, holding him there.

Pulling back, he realized he accidentally marked your skin. Running his fingers over it, he decides that, despite the guilt, he likes it.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to, " his voice was rough, sending chills down your spine.

"I don't mind. I'm all yours, " you purred.

"And I'm yours."

He moved further down your body. During his studies, it is expressed that most women are very sensitive with their breasts. He takes one into his hand, earning a small moan. Slowly, he squeezes, watching your reactions. He feels a sense of achievement when he's able to log in your limit into a file dedicated to your pleasure. He moves on to your nipple, fascinated by how much more sensitive it is. Feeling his fingers weren't as effective, he took it into his mouth. The sounds you were making encouraged him.

In your bliss, you arched your back and your hips made contact with his pelvis, forcing the ache back to the forefront of his mind. In an effort to find relief, he pressed himself against you. It felt so good, his hips involuntarily bucked. He groaned. This was so much better than the simulations.

This felt so one-sided. You touched along his torso, stroking along his abs. His breath hitched when you hit the top of his jeans. Undoing his belt, you worked his pants open, guiding them down his thighs. He kicked them the rest of the way off, left in only his black boxer briefs. Curious fingers touched along the bulge, so delicate and just not enough.

"Please... Touch me... Please, " he pleaded. You pushed his boxers off, and he sighed at the release of the final restraint. He was larger than you thought he'd be, and you'd be lying if you wondered how the hell he was going to fit comfortably inside you. You take him in hand and give him a single stroke. He nearly falls on you, grinding his teeth. That was not the sensation he was expecting, nor you, if the way you quickly pull your hand away. After a quick second of research, he recognizes why.

"Too dry. This angle doesn't aid in self-lubrication, " he sits back on his haunches, "you wouldn't happen to have any lubricating oil, would you?" It would be quicker than relying on his body.

You think for a moment before rolling onto your stomach, digging around in your nightstand. In the back, you pull out a small bottle of lube and give it to him. Seeing him sit like that, cock standing at full attention, it was nerve-wracking. He was so thick, and you can see him throb in time with his thirium pump.

Connor applies some of the lube, but he takes one of your hands and adds a bit more, eyes begging you. Sitting up, you took him in hand once more, and this time, when you stroked, he released a guttural moan, hips twitching. You did it again and again, speeding up. It felt amazing, but it was so much, and he didn't want it to end like this. When your thumb played with his tip, he grabbed your wrist, stopping all your movements.

"It's your turn, " he growled, moving back over you. He took hold of your panties, slipping them down your legs and tossing them to the ground. You instinctively closed your legs, but Connor took your knees and spread your thighs once more.

"So perfect, " he cooed. You were so wet already. It really boosted his confidence. To be safe, he added more lube anyway before he started caressing your bud. You made the most exquisite sounds then.

He knows he can't just push himself inside. That kind of force would only cause you pain. Instead, he started with a finger, slipping it inside slowly and letting you adjust to the feeling. He moved, in and out, curling it to help ease you open. You were trembling, panting as he pleasured you. He added another finger, and when he curled them this time, he found your sweet spot, your back arching off the bed again. By the time he added a third finger, you were a moaning mess.

It took everything in you to gather the strength to stop him.

"C-Connor... Please, I want you."

He saves that audio clip, ensuring it will never be deleted.

Connor slips out of you, fingers coated in your juices. Curiosity got the better of him, licking his fingers. You tasted good. So good, he wishes he had the time to thoroughly taste you, but it will have to wait.

He settles between your legs and takes himself in hand. Moving slow, he pressed inside. You winced when the tip enters you, and he freezes. He can't hurt you. After a moment, you nod, indicating for him to continue. He moved gently, pausing again when he was halfway through and waiting until you gave the go-ahead again. Once his hips met yours, he relaxed, relishing in the feeling of your tight heat. If kissing you was heaven, this was nirvana.

"You can move, " you spoke, panting. You were shocked he fit. Even more so when it didn't hurt. It was a lot, but feeling him pull out, only to fill you again, it was incredible.

Connor started to speed up, setting a deep, steady pace. He couldn't stop the groans that escaped him in his ecstasy. Your hands clawed at his back, pulling on his hair, sending mixed signals to his brain. It should hurt, but instead, it all feels good. His hips pick up the pace again.

You call out his name, over and over, as if he's all you know. He can feel a tightening in his gut, telling him he's getting close. His wants aren't important right now, he must push you over the edge. Recalling his research, he slips a hand down your body, fondling your bud once more.

"Fuck! Connor!" You cry out, tears escaping the corners of your eyes as the knot in your stomach is pulled tighter. A few precise thrusts against your sweet spot was all it took to snap the tension.

Connor watched your convulsing form, feeling you squeeze around him. He slowed down, letting you ride out your orgasm before slipping out.

"W-what are you doing?" You ask, voice shaky, "you didn't..."

"It's fine. I don't want to hurt you." You were likely to be very sensitive. This was never about him anyway. He wanted to please you.

You didn't see it that way. You guided him to roll over. Taking him in hand, you sank down on him, biting your lip at the feel of it as Connor groaned. You slid up and down, but you were still sensitive, unable to keep a steady pace. Instead, you took his hands and placed them on your hips, letting him take you how he needed. He couldn't deny himself any longer. He moved quickly, trying to come as quickly as possible. You dragged your nails down his chest, adding to the bombardment on his sensors. It was too much. You could feel his cock throbbing, so close, so close, so...

A feral shout, followed by a groan of your name, left his panting lips. Every twitch filled you with his synthetic seed. It was like someone had erased his entire hard drive for a moment, replaced with nothing but pure euphoria.

You laid down on his chest, feeling exhausted.

"That was... Amazing..." You sighed. Connor agreed, slipping out of you and rolling onto his side, taking you with him. "I'm glad you were my first. It was perfect."

"Would you let me be your last?" Connor asks, hopeful eyes gazing into drowsy ones.

"Only if you make the same promise to me, " you smiled, so filled with joy.

"I promise. I love you, " he murmured into your ear, holding you close as you drift off.

"I love you, too, " were your last words, mumbled, almost incomprehensible, before you fell asleep. Connor could still hear it though, smiling down at his perfect lover. Whether human or android, he loves you all the same.

#detroit become human #connor fanfiction #connor x reader #dbh #rk800 connor reader #rk800 #connor #gaming

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ziracona · 4 years

Note

Sorry if this has been asked before but, I'm really curious about how you would have written Max in the story if he were to be there? He's one of my personal favorite characters and finding redemption stories about him is kinda hard (You have no idea how happy I was when I read Claudette threw him a scarf to stay warm, like yes please; he's a feral child in a killer's body, but please stay warm)

I don’t think I have been, and no problem!

If Max had had a larger role in ILM, I am not 100% sure how I’d have written his perosnality, since I haven’t had to do it yet in-depth, but I know he’d be very angry and both defensive and aggressive towards everything, warry, skittish, hostile. Not bad necessarily, but humans will raise hackles and be ready to lash out and bite if they’ve all they’ve ever known is abuse the same way a mistreated cat or dog would, or like, most any living thing. I think he’s very lonely and unloved, and it’s hard for humans to survive without positive contact and affirmation and physical affection. I mean, if we’re left alone totally, we literally just die. But since his only experience with humans—and his parents/the people who should have loved him most no less—was nothing but danger and abuse and isolation and imprisonment, I think it’d be very hard for him to be approached. Not at all impossible, but man, it is really, really hard to convince someone who’s been through torrential rains of abuse that there’s something else to be given.

I do have ideas on how you could get through, but let me think about personality first. Well, aside from aggressive, defensive, skittish, warry, and hostile, like inborn traits to go along with learned, I think he is a very volatile person. He must be enduring and strong to survive what he did and live, and so determined and tenacious. —Oh! Hang on, big one before I forget. So, I am not a forefront authority in Disability as it relates to narrative, but I know quite a bit and was lucky enough to have a professor whose central areas were Disability, Horror, and Disability in Horror. I don’t know who exactly popularized the idea of Max as having basically a child’s mind in an adult’s killer body, though I think I’ve been told it was one person or story? Maybe it was just a big fandom take. But that’s one of the most prevailing and harmful disability stereotypes, especially for mental disabilities, and horror is a massive offender in general with both disabilities and disorders, and we need to do better & listen to the communities themselves more. I don’t mean this in a harsh way at all—I don’t even know if you meant ‘feral child in a killer’s body’ that way, or meant like, ‘this feral man in a killer’s body is my child TuT’—which is a totally different statement—and even with the former, I know people have had that idea of Max super popularized and are inundated with it, and most people I think just don’t know it’s a very harmful and prevalent stereotype period—I didn’t until I was in my 20s. But I think it’s important to bring attention to it when it’s brought up. Many of the bad things done to people with disabilities come from treating them as not fully actualized humans (I guess I should say ‘us’), and some of those ways are easy to spot, because they’re cruel, and some are harder, because they seem positive. The ‘child mind in an adult body’ is a huge one for disabilities that doesn’t seem awful at first glance, but actually is a huge problem. Unfortunately, human children also get treated by and large as not fully realized humans (as in autonomous & worthy of respect and self-determination—obvs there are some differences that are important, but a child is still an entire ass human & should be respected as such). The painting a physically and mentally disabled character as childlike or mentally trapped as a child is used to control and take autonomy and gravity from our opinions and lives. It’s also just like, not accurate. But the biggest thing is that it takes agency from individuals and paints them as less intelligent, less capable of wanting or pursing more ‘adult’ things [such as jobs or sex or protesting for their rights or having informed opinions on current events and doing something about it], and tries to paint that permanent, life-long dehumanization as a positive thing by making it cute or innofenssive at first glance. While still discounting disabled as kids, passing off autonomy and decisions to their caregivers, and ignoring our status as equal and actualized individuals. Stunted learning or growth or different ways of speaking, moving, and limitations understanding certain things don’t actually make disabled people like children. They’re just adults who sometimes have some very different ways of speaking or thinking or seeming or being. But it’s super important that we’re still adults and like, have the actualized self of adults, even if our speech patterns seem weird. There’s a huge and extremely important difference between an adult with social hangups around sensitive areas and social norms, and being a child. If you didn’t know any of that, don’t feel too bad, again like, people who aren’t disabled almost never talk about disability theory or issues, and I didn’t know this till I was in my 20s. But I feel really bad for Max and bad about how he is usually characterized, so it is important to bring this up.

Okay! That all said, I think personality wise, Max would be really fun to write. Because you have two levels—you have the taught things—fear, aggression, etc, and his inborn perosnality. There is very little canon about Max, but we know he never left home after freeing himself, he steals clothes from scarecrows or whatever he can find, and he’s probably in his early 20s or maybe to his mid 20s now. Since he never left home, I’d think he’s probably a little more cautious and anctious by nature, even with all that rage. I think he’d be sentimental if he ever was given something to love. He must have attachment to things pretty easily, and would I think have liked people a lot because of that, if life had been different. Would have been a shy but friendly and hopeful farm boy. Now, he’s kind of a broken mess, sadly. He’s had it super pounded in by family he is worthless and horrific and disgusting and a monster and an abomination, so I think he expects all humans to take one look and violently feel the same towards him. Taught humans are cruel, and he isn’t safe with them, and the only thing that will stop them and protect himself is unchecked aggression.

So, when it comes to like, getting close enough to him to redeem him, it’s rough, because again, he’d be very very aggressive. I mean, even after killing his parents, he mutilated the animals on the farm in rage, and continued to viciously hurt and then kill anything living he could find on the farm, so he’s got a lot of danger, and he really leaned into violence to protect himself. It’s what he knows now. I think he’s still lonely — like, so lonely he’s sick with it — but unlike Anna and Michael, he’s never known love, so I don’t think he’s even aware of that, and it’s on a pretty subconscious level. Plus, he has even less understanding of human communication and rules and gestures than the other feral killers, so it’d be really hard to get through to him. I think about the only plausible way is really, really, really fuckin slowly, through repeated gifts and kindnesses for no reason (like Claude with the scarf but every day for three years)—the same way you’d try to get through to a feral cat, since like other living things, humans also are wary and mistrustful when hurt, but can be socialized into new situations and do have a pretty set list of gifts and actions we appreciate. I mean, if I was feral, I would start to soften if repeatedly left chocolates and big warm coats and picture books to look at, pretty rocks. I have a crow heart.... >.> Or, the much more likely option, you’d have to catch him or find him captured and helpless, and then be kind instead of doing anything bad at all, and help him for a somewhat extended period of time, nurse him back to health or such, so he’d be forced to actually realize this person isn’t trying to hurt him—they’re trying to help.

I think Max would get less hostile slowly and cautiously because like, if you’ve ever been horribly abused you know you’re afraid to be hurt again. But also, if you’re alone, there’s a battle between wanting some kind of constact and love, and the fear of trying to trust someone only to be brutally torn up again and cast aside. It’s a painful place to be. But I think once he made it over that initial trust hurdle, and could bring himself to stop shuddering at a touch and to believe the person helping him was just trying to give him food, not poison or something to choke on, he’d be absolutely overcome, becuase if you’ve never been shown kindness and then are, overwhelmingly, it’s really hard to process. There’s a lot of psychology stuff about how we form our understandings and processing of each other and the world that I’m not gonna go into much bc convoluted, but it’d be like the opposite weirdly of a Just World break. The realization some things are less awful than your cemented life understanding structure. It would feel wrong and be hard to process (and rewireing a brain takes some time), but he’s been so alone for so long, I think the longing for people would get through, and he would cautiously start to trust and be just bowled over and kind of intimidated by the strength of like, the love and affection and gratitude and belonging he’d start to feel. I think he’d be afraid, becuase it’s not how life is meant to go, and jumpy, but he’d also just be lost to the happiness of actually having some kind of positive human connection, and become fiercely protective of whoever (or whichever people) was/were helping him. Got something he doesn’t want to lose now.

He’s young, so he’s going to still be figuring stuff out, and he had an awful upbringing, so lots of confusion and anger and un-learning too, but I’m really glad you liked that scene!! 😭 and that you like Max too, because he needs more love. I like him a lot too, that’s why he ends up with an undetermined fate instead of, like, dead in ILM. I’d like to give him a fully story role sometime, when there’s more space for it. He’s such a complex and unfortunate guy, he deserves a chance to grow more right and find people who are different and have a better future. TuT. It ain’t fair how his life was.

#ask #anonymous #dead by daylight #the hillbilly #in living memory (fic)#in living memory #max thompson jr #sorry if this didn’t answer all you wanted it was getting so long I was starting to sweat nervously >.>#but hope you enjoy it & the mini introduction to disability theory stuff—it’s super fascinating you should check some of the writing out #sometime! especially since there’s so much history there with horror ahhh now I want to go read...academic writing? gross wtf is wrong with #me TuT I’ve become my own enemy I lived long enough to occasionally wish to read academic papers bleah #*bleah lol

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mundeejarate · 3 years

Text

Ava the Killer-Dummy

(BAD GRAMMAR)

Sooo a living FEMALE Dummy!? Hehe let's go ahead and get straight into this. Ava is a pyschopathic killer dummy that lures in teens and adults (but mainly teens from 14-18) with her human form or with objects that will catch their eye and then trap them in her home that's been abandoned and left to rot the house now been abandoned for several years now looking exactly like those haunted abandoned houses in movies since it is a haunted and old abandoned house. Ava likes to scare the hell out of people in her home and watch them try to escape her death trap as she had objects laying around to help them find the keys to unlock the doors that could lead them to their freedom, but not a single person has escaped nor live a boy almost had but Ava got him in the nick of time. All the people she trapped, chased, and tortured in that house died being killed now being lost spirits and ghosts still trapped and stuck in that house. Though she never met any of the slappys book, tv, and movie or any of Stines creations she watched and read about them, somehow the TV she has in that house still has cable and works. She's seen the TV shows/goosebumps series and the movies of them and read all the goosebumps books having every single one. When she read about Snappy she fell for him and is obsessed with him having a mega crush on him.

Age: 19

Name: Ava Waverly

Sex: non binary (leaning more towards female spectrum)

Pronouns: she/they

Sexuality: Bisexual (sexually attracted to women romantically attracted to men)

Height(Dummy): 2'8ft

Height(Human): 5'6ft

Skin color: White

Eye color: mixed hazel(right eye) brown (left eye)

When her eyes glow the pupil/color of the eyes go pitch black while the remaining white of the eyes glow white

Hair color and type: straight, thick medium length brown hair

Outfit(Dummy): grey and red stripped long sleeve shirt with dark blue jeans with checker flame classic slip on vans

Outfit(Human): Black beanie hat with her hair in a low loose ponytail or down with white tank top and a unzipped dark green jacket and high waisted open ripped extreme black jeans and same vans from dummy form.

Ava has a right industrial ear piercing that's a black arrow and a spider bite lip silver hoop piercing that's on the bottom side of her lip. She has medium-sized breasts (I'm a very detailic person) and with a body shape of your glass having hip dips and small unnoticeable scars on her upper inner thighs and upper arms near her shoulders but could be seen when light shone onto them.

Ava when a dummy has a high pitch creepy voice that sounds like those annoying little girls but when human it's more leaning towards a medium voice being more deeper and mature for her age.

Dummy powers: She has the what I call Matilda power moving anything with her eyes instead of her mind but I guess you'll call it telekinesis.

Running is a power in her case since she's abnormally fast for a small wooden being so it's literally like running from a normal sized human being.

Her scream can make glass not shatter or vibrate and the people in the house to stop what they're doing and only to groan in pain and cover their ears until the screaming goes away since her scream is chaotically powerful.

Teleportation but she chooses running more it's in her case more fun and amusing to scare her victims.

Her laugh not really a power but enough to just scare the hell out of people, it starts out at full max pyschopathic laughter like a mentally insane killer laughing crazily when about to kill someone then the laugh slowly and faintly goes away but still feels like the laughter is in the air still able to hear it. It makes her victims jump/jolt, even scream in fear when hearing the laugh coming out of nowhere leaving them shaking.

When human she is very quick and agile being a flexible person especially from doing yoga on the TV and Tikowndo.

Weapons: If to go for a weapon she would go for anything sharp and pointy her main weapon a baseball bat with nails and spikes.

Slogans: These are a lot but eh here we go

"You'll never escape!"

"You can't hide from me! " And "You can run but you CAN'T HIDE! "

"I'm watching you." And "I see you! "

"Hello -insert name-! "

"Your death bed is waiting for you! "

(Sorry for any mistakes I kinda rushed-)

@super-firepaw119

I tagged one of my favorite artists because I feel like they would enjoy it :>

If any of this offends you or - just anything let me know I'll try to fix it to the better-

I forgot to mention-- Ava has split personality disorder acting quite stoic a bit when human and just more chill and laid back but when a dummy- obnoxious, pyschopathic/maniac, and really bad anger issues and quicker temper with some lack of self control. Quite heartless in any form only being more gentle and patient when comes to children if near any, careless and only kind and respectful if she's treated that way, if someone treats her with such high respect and lots of kindness she'll treat you more higher rank like then other people which that's rare of her.

And may possibly have O.D.D. which is more obvious when a dummy

#goosebumps oc #goosebumps #ava #ava waverly #ava the killer dummy #my ocs #oc #this is literally shit #AOSKSIDNSOSNXJXHC #bad grammar #i tired #this took over an hour-

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etlunainmorte · 4 years

Text

Part 3 - Nero

***

To your utter confusion, Nico was quiet all day. In fact, not a sound could be heard inside the house that one bright and sunny morning.

Sure, Nero taught her to do useful things. He even taught her how to behave properly in front of his friends and guests. Not to mention the many, many hours he spent with her in order to teach her what he proudly called, some "world - class skills".

Despite all that upbringing, Nico sure had a big mouth to show, and that boundless energy to boot. She's still as rambunctious as the rest of her kind. And most importantly, she's still trying her very best, on a daily basis, to bully that poor newspaper boy who was always dropping by your house.

Needless to say, you've been so accustomed to living with these two, and you're so used to their noises and their quirks.

However, to your utter confusion, Nico was quiet all day. In fact, not a sound could be heard inside the house that one bright and sunny morning.

Even her tiny traces could not be seen.

For a small and energetic dog such as Nico, she sure tried her very best to not slather you with her saliva that same morning. And that, nonetheless, bothered you.

"Nico!" You called for the third time that morning as you got out of bed. "Come here, girl!"

You've waited for, at least, three more minutes, and when she still didn't come to you on your fourth call, you instantly felt the stab of loneliness come back to haunt you. Nero, who typically doesn't start his day - to - day routine without having a hearty and healthy breakfast with you first, was nowhere to be found. As soon as your hand felt the emptiness of the side of the bed where he used to lie on, you felt the negative emotions come crashing down upon you once more. It hurt, feeling so heavy deep down inside. It hurt when you tried to hide it from your boyfriend and from your small group of friends. It hurt when you insisted to smile for them to show that you're okay.

It hurt even more to wake up without Nero beside you.

He's,... your everything. His funny antics in and out of the battlefield made you laugh out loud. His boyish smile and his mannerisms made you smile a lot. His sweetness and his caring attitude always made your day, heck, even your whole week.

And with him gone, it hurt. It hurt so,... so much,...

"WOOF!"

Your eyes widened and your mood perked up a bit when you heard the familiar bark, and when you turned around to face the dog, you were so surprised to see her.

Well, seeing her sitting and wagging her tail like that was normal for you.

What you did find surprising about her was the (F/C) - colored balloon tied on her yellow leash.

Wait a second,...

"WOOF!" Nico barked at you once more, as if trying to tell you to come to her, and when you did, she hastily stood up and went outside the room. You tried to chase her but, before you could even grab her leash, you noticed a piece of paper lying on the floor next to your feet. And on the paper were some words written using some crayons.

Good morning, beautiful! The words read. And the only name that came up on your head was his.

It was Nero, and he was clearly up to something.

You heard Nico's bark once more. You looked up just in time to see her disappear around the corner.

Then, you found another piece of paper on the ground where the dog went.

Have I told you that, the message read. You picked up the paper and looked in front of you.

There it is again, you thought. Another note.

You are amazing?

Have I told you that,

Your smile can cure cancer?

Did they know that,

Your eyes shine like a million diamonds in the sky?

You giggled at the messages. "Oh, come on, Nero! How cheesy can you get?"

Despite the overwhelming cheesiness, you went on picking up the notes that were left on the ground on your way outside the house.

Did they know that,

Your laugh sounds like church bells?

Have they told you,

That you are the best friend anyone could ask or?

Have they told you,

That you are the best girlfriend in the whole wide world?

Did you know,

That this is not the only surprise I have for you?

You read the words, then you read them again. You looked up, and saw none other than Nero standing not far from the old tree where the orphans used to play hide and seek on. Except that the children were nowhere to be found. Instead, Nico was there standing next to Nero, still barking excitedly.

And Nero? He was holding his uncle Dante's old acoustic guitar.

"Good job for bringing her here, Nico!" Nero said as he scratched the dog behind her ears and gave her some treats. "Here you go!"

You shook your head and smiled as you made your way towards him.

"Is it Valentine's already?" You joked, fully anticipating the surprise he has for you. "And I thought you'd never use - "

But, you were not given the chance to finish your sentence as your boyfriend cleared his throat and positioned his fingers on the strings of the old guitar. He started plucking on the strings for a few minutes, opened his mouth, and started singing.

"With every - hey!"

"What?"

"You are supposed to sit down, (Y/N)."

Nero gestured something with his pouty lips and noticed that he was pointing at the swing right in front of him. He wanted you to sit there as he played the guitar.

Feeling satisfied when you finally did what he wanted you to do, he shrugged his shoulders and breathed through his nose.

Then, he finally began singing.

With every appearance by you, blinding my eyes,

I can hardly remember the last time I felt like I do.

You're an angel disguised.

And you're lying real still,

But your heart beat is fast just like mine.

And the movie's long over,

That's three that have passed, one more's fine.

You admitted to yourself that Nero doesn't have the best singing voice in the world but, you, sitting on the swing as he serenaded you with one of your favorite songs as a couple,...

... it really felt like,...

Will you stay awake for me?

I don't wanna miss anything,

I don't wanna miss anything.

I will share the air I breathe.

I'll give you my heart on a string.

I just don't wanna miss anything.

Your hand automatically went to your chest, clutching it as your heart twitched with the emotions that you tried really hard to hide from him, of all people. You wanted so much to throw yourself at him. How you wanted to cry your heart out and shout at the top of your lungs until you have no more tears left to cry. You wanted so badly to just let your emotions take over your system as Nero sang the song for you.

But, then again, you can't. You don't want to.

And how could you? Not when Nero clearly tried his best to surprise you like this?

Of course, he noticed everything! From your tired, bloodshot eyes, to the huge, dark bags under them. To your ever declining appetite, to the way you must've trembled when you tried to suppress the sobs every night.

He,... noticed everything.

You don't want to give in to your emotions but, then again, how could you not?

I'm trying real hard not to shake, I'm biting my tongue.

But I'm feeling alive and with every breathe that I take,

I feel like I've won, you're my key to survival.

And if it's a hero you want I can save you, just stay here.

Your whispers are priceless,

Your presence is too so please stay here.

Nero's smile did not vanish and his voice did not waver as you finally allowed your shoulders to slump, and your emotions to take over you.

With one hand on your mouth, and your eyes slightly closed, the tears,... finally came flowing out,...

Will you stay awake for me?

I don't wanna miss anything,

I don't wanna miss anything.

I will share the air I breathe.

I'll give you my heart on a string.

I just don't wanna miss anything.

Say my name. I just want to hear you.

Say my name. So I know it's true.

You're changing me. You're changing me.

You showed me how to live.

So just say. So just say,...

That you'll stay awake for me.

I don't wanna miss anything,

I don't wanna miss anything.

I will share the air I breathe.

I'll give you my heart on a string.

I just don't wanna miss anything.

With a few more skillful plucks of the guitar strings, the song finally ended.

And you? You're still crying, yes.

But, at the same time, you were giggling like crazy.

The tears were still falling, yes.

But, at the same time, somehow,...

... you no longer felt sad.

And this made Nero chuckle as he scratched the back of his head.

"That good you cried?" He asked.

"What,... did I just see?" You playfully questioned with a smile as you wiped your tears with the sleeves of your knitted sweater.

"Ah, I was practicing for the Red Grave Charity Concert." He told you. But, of course, you knew that was a lie. "So, what do you think?"

You sat up straight, inhaled through your nose and exaggeratedly breathed out. "I think it's too cheesy."

"Cheesy?!"

"Yes!" You declared at the top of your lungs. Then, you stood up, went towards him and placed your arms around his neck. "And I love it so much."

And before Nero could even complain, you peppered his face and his soft lips with little kisses that made him laugh. He pulled you closer and wrapped you in his arms, not wanting to let you go.

"I should really put up a band next time." He said as he smiled beneath your kisses.

"I won't allow it."

"Why not?!"

"Because you'll get too many fangirls!"

"Aren't you just being jealous?"

"So, what if I' am?"

"HEY, ASSHOLE!"

The two of you looked just in time to see the all - too familiar Devil May Cry Fortuna branch van screeching and careening towards you and only stopping when it was only mere inches away from you, effectively scaring the dog away.

"Hey! Have you still not learned how to drive? You're gonna get us killed!" Nero screamed as the Artisan's head popped out of the window. "And you scared Nico away!"

"If I hear the name of that mongrel again, I swear I'd cook her in a steel pot together with that electric chicken!" The real, human Nico scolded, and when she saw how close you and Nero were, her face contorted in utter disgust. "And, eww! Flirtin' so early on in the morning? Get in the car already! We're so damn late for the Charity concert!"

"Alright! Shut up already! And don't talk about my Nico like that! She's still smarter than you!"

***

❤ You can find Part 1 here. ❤

💙 And Part 2 here. 💙

***

💙💙💙

***

#devil may cry 5 #nero sparda #too much cheese #nero x reader #nero x you #devil may oneshot

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pangtasias-atelier · 4 years

Text

7 Contracts

Warning: This story contains fetish content, specifically male weight gain.

So I've been playing Ob/ey M/e! recently and I love the cast. Even if the game is pretty standard oto/me fare.

Did not feel like describing 7 characters appearance, especially since this was a sour of the moment thing that I'm not sure if I'll continue so here's an an image of what they look like lol.

Left to Right

Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beezlebub, Belphegor.

Wg is kinda just there but not much. This was more of a silly thing

_______________

"So, any plans on fixing this?" Satan grabs his stomach, the fresh layer of pudge slotting itself in between his hands, and shakes it. "Cause last I checked, and last you checked, and last everyone else checked, that human had no ability to take advantage of our pacts," Satan vehemently spits out the last word, teeth clenching. He stares at Lucifer who merely continues to sit at his desk.

Lucifer puts his pen down, the metal utensil clacking against the wood. "I don't know how to fix this, Satan," Lucifer impassively stares back at Satan, his shoulders sagging. Lucifer puts up his hand as Satan goes to speak. "And no, I will not go to Lord Diavolo concerning this matter. Drop the issue," Lucifer the eldest and strongest, Satan bites his cheek.

"Doesn't matter if you go to Diavolo!" A new voice sounding through, Asmodeus cheerfully walks inside. Smiling, his skimpy crop top shows the noticeable bulge of his stomach, his booty shorts rising up on his ass. "The dumb human is too busy with stupid Mammon," Asmodeus puffs out his cheeks. "So I decided to see what other interesting things were happening,"

Lucifer stands up, glaring down at Asmodeus; Satan moves to the side, no longer in the way of a sudden tackle or blast of energy. "Asmodeus, explain. And quickly please,"

"Well, Diavolo made you make a pact with the human in exchange for forgetting about the whole matter of treason," Satan's eyes widen from Asmodeus' words.

"Of course, Lord Diavolo was kind enough to lighten-"

"Diavolo can discern the truth. He knew this was going to happen," Satan holds his head with his hand, staring at the floor.

"Lord Diavolo would never do such a thing!" Lucifer shouts, eyes on Satan now.

"I guess you're right," Asmodeus shrugs. "But!" He puts up a sausage finger. "We'll never know unless we ask Di-"

Satan preemptively turns around, barely flinching when he hears the crunch of the wall.

Lucifer holding Asmodeus' wrists, he pins him to the wall, a sizeable portion dented. "You are expressly forbidden to do such a thing," Asmodeus grins up at Lucifer. "Am I clear, Asmodeus,"

"Clearer than a sunny day!" Lucifer lets go of Asmodeus. "I'm sure we're all fine without any help, none of us are complaining~," Asmodeus winks at them.

"I've been complaining!" Satan denies.

"You only started once the human got bored with you," Asmodeus only slightly weaker than Satan, he dodged out of the punch thrown his way. "That's the way the cookie crumbles, sadly," Asmodeus frowns, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. "Us three don't exactly personify the best trait for what the human is doing to us," Asmodeus sighs as he rests his hand on his cheek, his other hand on his gut.

"Lucifer is pride, so it's no wonder he's still as slim as ever," Asmodeus ignores the spike of energy that surges behind him from Lucifer's glare. "You're wrath; which isn't bad but it's not good. But me! I'm lust! The human should be putty in my hands. It's not fair," Lamenting his cruel fate, Asmodeus melodramatically puts his arm to his forehead. Asmodeus turns from a hand placed on his shoulder

"Asmodeus, get out of my room," Lucifer commands, irritated. "Satan, you as well,"

"He's probably mad cause I pointed out how little time the human has spent with him," Asmodeus 'whispers' to Satan, Asmodeus barely bothering to lower his voice.

"He did form a pact last," Satan retorts back, the two grinning as they scamper out of Lucifer's room.

The door slammed shut behind them, the two look at each other.

"Well, I'm going back to the human!" Asmodeus announces, about to scamper off again before Satan grabs him by the wrist.

"I'm going too," Satan looks the other way, blushing. "And shut up, so what if I was jealous? So is everyone else in this damn house,"

"Glad you could finally admit it," Asmodeus gloats before rushing off.

Satan growls. Childish behavior expected of Asmodeus, he can't really share in his idiotic antics. Letting Asmodeus reach the human first, he follows him.

The human unaware of the two approaching demons, he simply keeps feeding Mammon.

Currently lying down, Mammon rests his head on the human's lap with his eyes closed. Gargantuan gut rising far above him, it spreads out far, his shirt too small to contain it. His pants busted at the seams, bits of his boxers are visible, Mammon's fatty thighs seeping through the tears.

Mammon lazily lifts up an arm, the effort taxing at his size, and pats his stomach. "It's great to see you appreciate how wonderful I am!" Mammon gloats, the occurrence often now. "The handsomest, smartest, intelligentest of us, I, the great Mammon," Leaving his mouth open, he closes it as the human lowers the grape vine.

"Boooring," Popping through the open door, Asmodeus frowns at the sight.

"I was thinking pathetic," Satan adds, snickering. "Stupid Mammon doesn't even know it's most handsome and most intelligent,"

"Hey!" Flailing, Mammon struggles to bring himself up, out of breath. His gut wobbles in the air as he remains stuck on his back like a turtle. "A little help here," He whimpers, lightly sweating.

Satan and Asmodeus ignore Mammon; instead, they keep their attention focused on the human who smiles at Mammon.

"You, you gotta be stronger than that!" The human's hands holding Mammon's he tugs to help him up. Mammon's gut in the way, he gives up. "Too tired, I need more food," He whines.

"Talking about nothing but food is Beezlebub's shtick," Satan rolls his eyes at Mammon's helpless state.

"He is the demon of greed; guess he went from being greedy for money to being greedy for food," Asmodeus giggles, hand brought to his lips. Walking up to Mammon, Asmodeus leans on him, digging his elbows into his stomach. "Good thing you're so dumb and left yourself helpless, cause we're taking the human for ourselves,"

"Get off of me!" Mammon continues flailing. "And like hell you will!"

"We will," Satan smiles, placing a hand on the human.

"It's supposed to be my turn," Waddling through, Leviathan struggles with the doorway, his hips getting themselves stuck. "And if you take away my turn…" Leviathan bares his teeth at them, shaking as he clenches his fists. Breaking himself free, he stands right in front of the door, blocking their means of escape. Obese, his body is pear shaped, his thighs clashing against each other as his bell shaped stomach sags halfway to his knees. In lounge-wear, his sweatpants cling to and accentuate his wide hips; his sweatshirt rests somewhat loosely on his body.

"Now Levi, just cause you're the demon of envy," Asmodeus backs away, hands up. "There's no need to be upset, besides, it was all Satan's idea!" Asmodeus hides behind Mammon.

"Hey! I'm not some inanimate object to do whatever you want!"

"Unless it's the human," Satan quips, smiling as Mammon gets red.

"He should be happy that I even offer to spend time with him, if-"

"Shut up!" Angered from hearing them talk about the human, Leviathan takes a step forward.

Satan pushes the human to Leviathan, hiding behind Mammon as well.

"What are-" Mammon ends up silenced as Satan and Asmodeus roll him over and help him stand up.

"You're stronger than Leviathan, so do something about him!" Asmodeus pushes Mammon, Mammon not even budging.

Leviathan meanwhile happily smiles at the human, his prize obtained. "I hope those brutes didn't dirty you in any way. I'd be no worse than stupid Mammon if they did,"

"That's not possible," Satan and Asmodeus reply, Leviathan agreeing.

"Do you want me to help or not?" Mammon sighing, he rests his hands on his knees. "I think I need to lie down…"

Asmodeus and Satan busy making sure Mammon doesn't quit on them, Leviathan ignores them.

"Let's go, you owe me a handmade bento just like in episode 7 of-" Leviathan bumped into, he glares behind him, tugging the human closer to himself.

"You're all too loud," Belphegor yawns, his doughy arms sagging as he lazily lifts them. Fat, he moobs bounce as he makes his way to Mammon's bed and lies down on it. Simply wearing boxers, modesty unimportant, his nearly nude body jiggles as he makes himself comfortable.

"The human is here, where's the food?" Beezlebub shows up after Belphegor, munching on pizza. Beezlebub's metabolism working against him, he remains chunky, his paunch of a stomach resting snugly in his shirt.

"Great, like we really needed sloth and gluttony here," Asmodeus murmurs to himself, talking about Belphegor and Beezlebub respectively.

"Too many people here…" Leviathan groans, clenching his teeth.

Everyone chiming in with their own complaints, the room ends up in chaos. No one paying attention, none of them notice the human chanting under his breath.

A black puff of smoke appearing catches all six of their attention. Lucifer summoned, he scoffs at seeing all of them.

"Are you all so pathetic that I need to fix your mistakes?" Lucifer grinds his teeth as their whining continues. "If you intend to act like children, then like children I'll treat you," Lucifer shouts, his voice booming throughout the room.

Everyone now quiet, they wait for him to speak.

"Everyone will get one day of the week with the human," He stomps his foot as the volume picks up. "No complaints,"

"And to end you're bickering for today, the human shall accompany me for tonight," Poofing away, Lucifer takes the human with him.

The two now alone, Lucifer lets go of them. "Don't believe that I'll prostrate myself before you like the rest of them," Heading back to his desk, paperwork from Lord Diavolo more important, Lucifer ignores the human as they leave.

Too focused on paperwork, it feels as if the human returns in mere seconds, a platter of decadent sweets in their hand.

Lucifer eyes them as they leave the platter on Lucifer's desk before leaving. Checking them for magic, he finds nothing. Sniffing a muffin, he glances to make sure no one else is in the room. Taking a small bite, he closes his eyes as the sweet chocolate melts in his mouth. Nibbling the rest of it as he continues his work, the platter ends up empty far too soon.

The day already near its end, having to wait a week to try more of the human's food sounds like an ordeal.

#my writing #male weight gain #fat fiction #fat story

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pennys-th0ughts · 4 years

Text

Roses are red, corpses are blue 🥀

Sound of water running

Sounds of skin being teared and bones cracking

Sounds of chewing

The blood was still warm and it kept on flowing and spilling at each of the weaker pumps of the dying heart my victim was holding in his chest, but not for much longer. His lifeless eyes were fixed in one far point of the ceiling, with a pale white cloud on them because of the deadlights. His skin was acquiring the same pale tone with every passing minute as I kept on draining his body, one big sip at the time.

Horrified eyes were watching the raw and bloody show in a petrified silence with only the sound of a panting breathing as background. A piece of cloth was doing its job nicely by muffling the desperate screams of my second victim. Her long charcoal like hair was all tangled around her face and her green irises were almost two lines because how much her pupils got dilated. My best guess was that her tears were blurring her sight, avoiding her to have a clear view at the macabre of my feast, which I didn’t care much. Sooner or later her fate would be the same as her male human partner, only difference was I would be a bit gentler with her pretty face just to keep it as a souvenir.

I looked up and saw the sun was beginning to crawl slowly to the holes. The weak rays of light will soon cover the surface above the sewers and I wasn’t that fond of taking walks under the heat, so I would spend the rest of the day hiding at the comfortable shadows of my lair, waiting for the night again.

The female human was still struggling with the knots around her wrists and ankles, doing her best to free herself from them, unsuccessfully though. The more she fought it, the sweeter she would taste in the end. I only needed to wait for her to get tired, as a wounded animal trapped waiting for the merciful death to put an end to its suffering.

Silence

Constant notes of absence of sound managed to fill the air bringing an apparently calm to the sewers and its endless tunnels. There was no more whining or crying coming from the female human. I took a distant look at her and she had definitely passed out. She was turning herself into a tasty midnight snack without even knowing.

My four pair of bright yellow eyes was dissecting her body beforehand, peeling the flesh of her bones straight to their core. The more I imagined myself swallowing her teared limbs the more I had started to drool.

Getting back to a human shape was easier than my real form. The process was the same and nonetheless I liked to be hanging around in said form, inhabit a clown like shape always got me closer to humans in a very particular way, especially with children. But not this time. This time I was starving and I needed something bigger to satisfy my seemingly never ending appetite.

The sun has begun hiding behind the trees and with it the whole town was getting ready to sleep and that was my favorite part of the day. Blending in among the shadows was my best disguise, like a chameleon hiding in plain sight. Using human’s worse fears against them was my finest weapon and physical contact was sometimes unnecessary, mostly with children. Lure them with delicious treats or toys were easy, they would fall for either of them as flies fall for honey. It got more interesting when I had to catch bigger prey for they weren’t that easy to coax and their instinct was also wary. Adults represented a whole challenge sometimes.

However this human female seemed she had never encountered such horrific things in her life since she was still being consumed by panic attacks and sickness. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was far from having experienced something bad and that was making her in some kind of a living toy. A handful of sorry and twisted nerves exposed just to my amusement. I was still elaborating how I would torture and scare her to get the best of her wayward mind, and to be honest, I was deeply enjoying it.

By the time she opened those emerald like eyes, I was already crouching in front of her. Still wearing my collar soaked in the blood of her friend, she couldn’t help but get sick again and tried to throw up. The gag in her mouth wouldn’t let her do such thing but the retches would surely come in quick so I decided she already had enough and removed it. I got closer to her face and with my clawed finger I moved away a lock of her black silky hair to a side. Her eyes were locked on mine and her fear was palpable yet she didn’t look away.

– If you behave – I whispered in her hear- I will let go of your hands.

She had a hard time swallowing but then she nodded as fast as she could without saying a word. My long and slicky tongue traced the curves of her chin and cheek before I kept my promise of releasing her wrists from the ropes tied strongly to a pipe. As soon as her hands were free she rubbed them vigorously to soothe the pain. I tilted my head to the sides several times and watched her movements carefully. Despite being scared shitless I must admit she remained calm admirably.

Not being a possible threat, I decided to release her feet but taking some precautions anyways. I tied a rope to her neck long enough for her to have some freedom, nonetheless, she will still remain tied up to one of the walls since I didn’t trusted her completely, at least not yet. First time alone she cut the rope and ran away to which left me no other choice but to punish her harshly. Second time she made it far enough for me to shorten the rope a couple of feet and whoop her ass badly. After that day there was no third try.

– ¡You are such an asshole, Penny! – I heard her yell across the room and couldn’t help but laugh at the frustration in her voice.

– ¿What's the matter, little creature? – I answered back with my retarded typical tone of voice making fun of her crankiness-. Thought you would want to taste something new.

– ¡Go to hell! – She replied even more angry throwing the bag at me-. You know how much I hate raw meat, Penny.

I took what was inside the bag and eat it in one bite. She looked at me and I could see an exponential fire growing inside of her big enough to burn all Derry to the ground. I got used to her bad temper bursts after being living together for almost a month but she still couldn’t get used to my food pranks from time to time. She being annoyed was one of the moments I liked her the most, how the wrinkles took place in her forehead and that slight change in the tone of her eyes was delicious. It was like she was transforming herself into a wild animal and that, to be honest with myself, got me a little horny.

First time I tried to get close to her in a more intimate way she rejected me by scratching one side of my face with such fiercely strength that almost took my eye out. Needless to say that very same day we had a bit of a bloody battle along the tunnels to see who was the most feral of us two. Also needless to say she ended up pinned against the floor and being fucked hard. After that afternoon she knew that every time I wanted to release myself inside of her she would have to agree to my basic needs, otherwise I would unleash the beastly side on her without caring too much the later outcome.

The days passed by and she got more used to me and my mood swings which ended up being a good thing for both since now she would understand me, me without saying a word sometimes. We became, basically, into a couple of animals with the only needs of eating and fucking; last thing started happening quite often which I wouldn’t complain about. It was like some kind of symbiotic relationship in which both would get what we wanted.

Seasons would hide peculiar features that would also affect, in some way, my little prey’s behavior. I would start discovering them later on that year and things would get even more interesting. Spring season would become like some kind of mating season, as many mammals had, and during that time she would go after me and offer herself to me without hesitation. She would just want me inside of her as many times possible, leading the rhythm or not, being up or down or in any new position she could come up with. Autumn would be the season in which she would avoid me by any means but when cold days started to show up, she would finally seek for my warmth once again.

One night, with a clear starry sky above our heads, she came closer and curled up next to me, wrapping her skinny arms around my chest in some kind of hug, rested her head on me and sighed. I could sense something unusual in her that night but wouldn’t dare to speak; oddly, I was feeling comfortable with that. Then, softly between mumbles, I heard her say:

– I'm starting to like you, Penny – she hid her face in the hollow of my neck-. I'm starting to like you a lot…

I still don’t know what it moved inside of me, all I know is how that made me feel.

@infptarius Enjoy!

This might be my last short story for now

#pennys thoughts #pennywise #short story

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cerastes · 5 years

Note

Something I wanted to ask you a few days ago but then you suddenly actually fucked off to the South Pole: Can I ask about your tabletop characters? I know there's Rasmus and a someone named Lisbeth, I think? Do you have more? I'm always up and eager to hear about fruits born from your disaster head.

I do not have more, it’s those two, my beautiful shit children. Rasmus is for my DnD game and Lisbeth is for my Fate Core game. It’d be A PLEASURE to regale you with The Lore:

If you’ve read my tabletop blogging posts, and you likely have given you’re asking about the good ol’ lovable Human Rogue, then you’re already somewhat familiar with Rasmus Kasper Istre. A 24 year old charlatan and swindler through and through, back in his port hometown, Rasmus was a notorious “fortune teller” that scammed many tourists and merchants, an act made easier by the innate superstitious nature of sailors, and while his daggers are sharp, it’s his creativity that cuts deeper, fighting being his very last option as he will always attempt to fool, sabotage and trick others first, only brandishing harm if there’s no other choice. In stark contrast with his enthusiasm when it comes to taking money from others, Rasmus is vehemently opposed to taking lives unless it’s on self-defense or if the one relinquishing their life deserves it, a philosophy he sticks to even if it bites him in the ass. This is, in fact, what triggers his escape from his town: He swindled the riches right out of a big-time Elf magnate, disabled his bodyguard that came gunning for him some time later and even had the perfect chance to off him, yet refused to do so because, as he learned during his time hiding from him, the magnate is actually a really honest if grumpy guy who treats his subordinates fairly and with love, and he’s not about to take that life, opting instead to hit the road. He used to dual wield daggers, but lost one of the daggers during a sky-high encounter with wyvern riders, using an enchanted gauntlet imbued with lightning in the spur of the moment to fight with fist and blade, and he liked how it worked out, so now he uses the lightning gauntlet to deliver close-range blasts and electric grapples with the left hand while his deft dagger whistles with each swipe and lunge of his right. To not inconvenience himself and others, he wears a half cape draped over his left arm so he can touch things and people without thundershocking them or having to remove the gauntlet and risk being ambushed (wearing a glove in the middle of a fight is kinda hard!). He loves wearing cologne, especially one made with ghostshroom extract that he makes himself. People hate the strong smell of it at first but it sort of grows into them like an acquired taste or Stockholm Syndrome, and his favorite foods are juniper berries and beef jerky. Rasmus is 177 centimeters tall, has curly light brown hair, dull green eyes, wears his beard as a stubble, and has an average, fit build. Do NOT call him “Kasper” unless you’re in the mood for a bar fight. Mostly wears leather armor and has a thing for the color green.

Rasmus is childhood friends with Claudia, the party’s Human Wizard, and the two often snipe at each other with affectionate vitriol, although their attempts to screw the other over with money are very real. No hard feelings, though, that’s what it meant to grow poor in a port town, it’s your fault if something is taken from you. He doesn’t always see eye to eye with the Halfling Ranger (Ranger is rather kill-happy, which doesn’t sit well with Rasmus), and is buddy-buddy with the Orc Barbarian, especially when brothels and taverns are concerned. He currently is invested in helping the Orc Barbarian with his character arc whenever he can, as well as furthering his own Money Quest after accidentally starting a religion, the Solar Sect (it’s a long story). After enough deeds, the party received the blessings from Phantom Animal Lords from the wilderness, with Rasmus’ title being “Rabbit”; This is an inside joke referring to how my DM and the rest of my DnD group call Rasmus “Bugs Bunny” due to his trademark outlandish and creative ways of setting up the board to the party’s advantage and problem solving. Among his faithful, he is known as the Augur-spoken Prophet, and it’s really, really spiraling out of control. Initially, Rasmus and Claudia were supposed to hate each other, but Claudia’s player and I, IRL friends since a long time now, decided to make them shitlord friends instead. We were very involved with the creation of both characters and develop them continuously together now. Check the “Rasmus” tag in my blog for more anecdotes of his balls to the walls DnDventures.

Some of his deeds include:

Killing a seemingly unkillable hero by teleporting him high into the sky and letting gravity do the work, using a circumstantial item.

Strapping the corpse of said unkillable hero to a greatshield and creating an extremely powerful shield for our Barbarian to use whenever we need some nigh invulnerability.

Accidentally started a religion when he was accused of high heresy because he defiled the corpse of a hero by turning him into a shield.

Flirting with an Elf Priestess that turned out to be the magnate’s niece.

Flirting with her further anyway.

Naked Parkour in the Elf capital.

Wrapped his phony crystal ball with a chain and used it as an impromptu weapon after being disarmed, cracking a Chaos Dwarf’s skull with a nat 20 swing.

Earned the ‘Rabbit’ title, which apparently only happens once around every 3000 years, as the Rabbit Phantom Animal Lord is capricious and her favor only goes to those cheeky and cunning enough to both amuse her and impress her. Of all those, he’s apparently the second Human to ever have earned the title. Rasmus wears it with pride.

–

The other is Lisbeth Elstad. Now, you’re no doubt thinking to yourself “Wow! No one has a name like that!” And you’re right! Consider that a stage name, or a pseudonym, if you will. In a setting that takes place in the real world after magic and everything from beyond turned out to be real and has suddenly become widespread public knowledge, 19 year old Lisbeth is incredibly inept at even the most basic magic tasks with two exceptions: Mana Layering, the act of creating sheets, layers, and shells of mana, and Alchemy, the ability to turn one thing into another through meticulous formulas and the Law of Equivalent Exchange. In addition to this narrow scope, Lisbeth has always found it oddly easy when it comes to assembling explosives ranging from homebrew fireworks to high-yield plastic explosive custom formulas such as batches of SEMTEX and C4. Finally, Lisbeth is a natural woman of science, a passionate love for biology, physics and chemistry pulsating within her noodle, unfit body. You could say she’s a Human Alchemist/Bombardier of some sort, but her most heartfelt wish is to become a doctor and pharmaceutic. Now, this probably paints the image of a kind, earnest girl that just wants to help out with a smile, right? Well! That’s not quite it! As noble as she sounds, Lisbeth is quite the thug otherwise. Think of her less as a friendly doctor in the making and more of a really shady back alley doc that looks like she came right out of a The Misfits music video. She tries, oh, lord she does, to come across as classy, eloquent, and elegant, but no matter how much Calvin Klein “One” you spray on a rabid boar, it is still a rabid boar, and as soon as her very little threshold of patience is usurped, the elegant business front crumbles and the reality of a violent, easily angered busybody who happily solves her problems with rocks to the back of the head and high yield explosives lays bare. She’s the foster daughter of a famous nomadic mercenary leader known as the Mercury Witch, leader of the White Silhouette, and worked on board their craft as assistant doctor, with the Witch forbidding Lisbeth of taking part on any training that might foster her latent violent tendencies in hopes of mellowing her out. One day, however, they took on a job in which Lisbeth and her mentor, Melicia, ended up unwittingly making REALLY Bad Drugs instead of the Good Medicine they thought they were making for supernatural creatures, Lisbeth found out, they found out she found out, shit hit the fan, everyone’s MIA.

Not much to say about her yet otherwise, as the game is still in its preliminary phase. Instead, I can tell you about the scrapped 27 year old version of Lisbeth that I heavily modified after we discussed things and realized I had to make her much younger for it to make sense with certain aspects of the plot. This version of Lisbeth is still very much the same in terms of abilities, but has quit the White Silhouette on her own terms and roams around as a masked vigilante that aids supernatural beings oppressed by humans and as a doctor that helps supernatural beings for free. Most of her time is devoted to finding locations that traffic supernaturals or pits them in underground arena fights and dismantles them with the superior firepower and flair of plastic explosives and some good ol’ infiltration. During her time in France, she was suddenly attacked by a girl in traditional Japanese priestess attire, inciting what nearly was a deathmatch between the two of them. As the mystery girl realized Lisbeth wasn’t her target, however, she immediately stopped and apologized. The girl, named Yamaoka Keiko, is a prophet and descendant of the Blind Dragons who could see the future. The problem, she explained, was that her eyes were stolen and replaced with ones that can see, and she hates it. She’s looking for whoever it is stole her blind, silver eyes to claim them back and go back to her peaceful, beloved life of comfortable darkness and peace back in her shrine. Lisbeth, however, seems to have a clue about who it could be that can steal and switch something like eyes without any difficulty, and believing this to be fate as well as her responsibility indirectly, offers to travel with Keiko in search for her eyes. The two become good friends over the course of 18 months of traveling together in this adventure, but Keiko takes an extremely grave wound one day and is left unable to move for a good while, even with all of Lisbeth’s medical knowledge. Finding herself alone and unsure of Keiko’s future, Lisbeth decides to join the official magic law enforcement outfit that she hates in order to gain access to their information network. I’ll probably use this version of Lisbeth for other things, since I don’t wanna scrap it, bwahaha, probably with Glock Elf and TechSlime (and same with Keiko).

Regardless of her version, Lisbeth has an intravenous hose installed inside of her arms that leads to a “cauldron” in her torso, utilizing “internal alchemy” to transform proteins and cells into other chemicals, which she then expels through holes on the palms of her hands. This way, she can spray, say, napalm out of her hands. Since she has absolutely no competence at all in the art of magic but has an innate talent when it comes to chemistry and alchemy, she instead “fakes” magic by creating concoctions with her knowledge. Lisbeth stands at 176 centimeters, has a lanky, thin physique, and wears silver contacts (which is why Keiko thought she had her eyes) and hair dyed a very light creamy blonde. She wears classy suits and long-skirted jumper dresses for the most part, with an Orthrus (two-headed wolf) pelt draped over her shoulders, both heads dangling off her left shoulder. Her choice of attire and appearance, much like her pseudonym, are all part of her “business front”. Despite her bluster, she’s rather cowardly, but also extremely resolute. Lisbeth is the kind of character that would usually be the NPC Shopkeeper that sells you potions and charges you a small fee to fully heal your party, but circumstance has thrown her right into the adventurer’s shoes, and now she has to deal with it crying, screaming, and complaining, but hey, at least she gets to put her knowledge of bombs to good use!

#rasmus #lisbeth #tiza #long post #whoops I gone and made a wall without meaning to

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