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quirkisms · 3 years

Text

OFF YOUR CHEST - M. TOGATA (i)

pairing: mirio togata x fem!reader

summary: Mirio tears himself apart, and you're there to heal the pieces.

word count: 2k

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, strangers(ish) to lovers, AU where UA is college, not highschool (i dont want 2 write about minors), mirio is quirkless and is Dealing With It, slow burn, trauma and anxiety coping

ao3

He splits another knuckle open.

It’s no different than any other exercise or training, but he’s different. He’s stronger now, and smarter but he’s still less. He punches the wall again, willing it to go through. For a second, he thinks he can feel the soft tendrils of the void past the surface beckoning him, urging him forth. It’s asking him where he’s been, that it missed him and that he’s back. For that second, it’s real. His hand is sinking through and he’s back.

But the rough texture of the wall sinks into the cuts he’s ripped into his skin and he’s pulling back, sucking in air through his teeth and withholding curses.

He cradles his right hand with his left, blood trailing down the grooves of the taught tendons on both battered hands.

Mirio’s chest is heaving, his breaths varying from deep to shallow, his heart rate erratic. The buzz in his pocket disrupts his stare at the red stains his punches had left.

TAMAKI

where r u

It hurts to curl his hand around the device, but he does anyway. He wipes the other hand on his pants before responding.

Training! What’s up?

TAMAKI

patrolling tn. just wanted to lyk

Okay - Stay safe! 😀

Mirio pockets his phone. He wants to manually rub the grime out of the cuts or even just leave them the way they are. The sting is a juxtaposition from how his life was before. No longer can he float in the nothingness, phase through infinity until he needs to come up for air.

He feels everything now.

He makes his way towards UA’s medical clinic. It’s late, past dinner at least, which means it’ll be empty save for one person. Recovery Girl doesn’t work the hours like she used to, not since you came in. The clinic after hours feels safe, secretive and his. You’re always there late, as far as Mirio knows. Since the first time he injured himself by pushing himself past his newfound limits (which were significantly less than what they used to be) you’d always been there when he’d sneak in.

Tonight, you were hunched over textbooks, highlighter dangling out of your mouth. If he could’ve, he would’ve lingered in the doorway to watch you. Instead, the few droplets of blood spilling from his hands alerted you of his presence. You peek over your shoulder at him before capping the marker and nodding for him to sit on one of the empty exam beds. It was routine.

“You outdid yourself this time,” You said as you cleaned the open wounds. He’d beaten the flesh raw, almost exposing bone and you wanted to scold him but you knew it was useless. He’d just brush you off with a shrug, a smile and tell you it’s not that big of a deal. Pain is part of getting stronger.

Mirio doesn’t respond. Instead, he chooses to let his eyes flick around the room. Recovery Girl’s absence is notable - no more jar of candy, and you’ve taken over her desk and littered it with your own knicknacks. Your textbooks, an All Might water bottle, a Kamui Woods pez dispenser. It’s cute, he thinks.

“Did you have a punching match with one of those hardening quirks?” You’re frowning as you pop a piece of jerky in your mouth. “Maybe Cementoss?”

“Cementoss,” he confirms, only because that would be the only way he’d have so much...particulate within the splits. Cementoss was made of rock, and Mirio would rather die than admit to you he was relentlessly punching a wall.

You snort, shaking your head as you chew. You both know he’s full of it, but you drop it. You always do.

A soft, blue glow escapes from underneath your hand. His hand feels fuzzy, like it's fallen asleep before it dissipates and you remove your hand, motioning for him to lift his other so you can begin the same process.

As you clean the other hand, Mirio watches you work. You ignore the weight of his gaze the best you can, focusing on repairing the skin and not how strong and smooth his fingers are. His hand is heavy in yours, and the glow of your quirk flickers as you lose focus imaging what his grip would feel like on you.

“Done,” you said, flicking your used gloves into the wastebasket by your feet. Mirio flexes his fingers. Healed. “Y’know, after all these visits,” You raise an eyebrow, “I think you owe me.”

Mirio looks up from his hands to tilt his head at you.

“Tell me how you really get these injuries,” you grab one of his hands loosely and run your thumb over the freshly regenerated skin.

He wasn’t expecting that.

Mirio gapes at you like a fish out of water, like you’re Thirteen and you’ve sucked all of the air out of the room. He pulls himself from your grip to rest his hands in his lap. He’s uncomfortable, uneasy now. He’s liked this place, liked you because questions weren’t asked that he had to give real answers to. It’s not betrayal that Mirio feels, it’s more like loss. It’s the loss that comes with the realization that you can’t outrun everything you want forever. With all the training, all the work Mirio had put in, he thought he could.

“They’re self-inflicted. The bruising, the wound placements. It’s like you’re training yourself to death.”

“It’s not like that - I’m fine, I promise!” Mirio throws his hands up in a defensive motion. He’s summoning the sunlight, the optimism and charm that swooned UA and motivated him to keep working, keep training, to save a million people. He can feel it churning in his chest, but it’s been pressed so deep he’s grasping at the edges and they don’t want to meet his fingertips.

Mirio knew you never believed his excuses - you knew he knew that and you’d been pulled thin between wanting to show concern and ask what was up and respecting his privacy. But at the previous state of his knuckles, you couldn’t drag your feet any longer.

You watch him, face soft and stoic. You’re not coddling, but you’re not cold either. He realizes that you’re just simply waiting.

“I just train too hard,” he gives in, just a little. You raise your eyebrows a fraction and he continues. “I have a lot to make up for, so I tend to overdo it!” He laughs it off - the injuries are a joke, truly. They’re funny to him.

“You get more banged up than Midoriya,” you look at him over the clear frame of the glasses you seem to only wear at the clinic. “How does your training get you more banged up than the other heroes?”

“I’m not a hero,” he’s quick to say, and it stings more than it should. He was, should’ve been, should be.

Your face is soft again, and it’s an art you’ve mastered over time. You’re good at composing your features to appear passive and static. In your many hero encounters, pity is the quickest way to lose trust. So you watch Mirio, with his soft smile and now long hair tied back at the nape of his neck. He’s analyzing you just as you are him, and you keep your eyes from flicking to his knuckles when you respond with, “Okay.”

His stomach is churning, still sour with his words but he rubs his hands on his thighs. Why are they so sweaty?

In his distracted state, Mirio doesn’t notice you scribbling down something on a notecard shaped like an anatomical heart. You hand it to him, knocking him out of his trance.

Seven digits, followed by the letters 3G, and four more digits.

“What’s this?” he asks. Obviously the first line is your number, but you lost him with the rest.

“My number,” you aren’t looking at him. Instead you choose to refold the sleeves of your white coat as you continue, “and the passcode to get into my dorm building.”

Mirio does white. The passcode? Why would he need that?”

“I can’t be staying here late every night in case you show up.” You hated trudging back to your dorm on the nights he didn’t show, both eyelids and textbooks weighing you down. “Just stop by my dorm if it’s late like this.”

Mirio opens his mouth but you cut him off.

“Floor 5F, my name is on the door.”

He closes his mouth and smiles, nodding and bowing in thanks. He doesn’t trust his voice, not right now. You’re packing up your textbooks as he exits the clinic.

It doesn’t hit him until he gets back to the 3A dorms that he doesn’t know your name.

He beats himself up about it the whole night. He wishes he could go into Tamaki’s room to distract himself, to ask him about the person who’s basically taken over Recovery Girl’s mantle. Tamaki frequented the clinic as well - used it as an excuse to get out of the heroics lessons and sleep. He’d definitely know your name, unlike his golden counterpart who visited her frequently and never thought to ask.

Mirio tried to comfort himself by thinking that maybe you didn’t know his name either. You’d never asked. But then again, Mirio is (was?) part of UA’s Big Three. The aftermath of the Shie Hassaikai was all anyone talked about for weeks. You’d definitely have to know who he was. Mirio Togata, the kid who lost his quirk. Le Million, the hero who gave and lost everything. You went to UA yourself - there was no way.

He didn’t want to be that sob story to you. But he was constantly coming to you with injuries - split knuckles, a dislocated shoulder, a torn achilles. Maybe he wasn’t exactly that sob story, but he knew you pitied him regardless. Maybe that’s why you always stayed so late - you felt bad for him.

The thoughts makes Mirio uncomfortable.

And so much so that to make himself feel better, he adds your number to his phone. Typing in the numbers, he thinks about how he likes that your handwriting was shitty. Another little thing you let him see, let him learn about you. In lieu of a name, he makes your contact name the stethoscope emoji. He laughs to himself when he saves the contact and types out a message:

How late is too late?

He hesitates, but hits send. It delivers, and after fifteen minutes, Mirio is worried he confused one of your twos for a seven or vice versa. Or, maybe he should’ve introduced himself instead of just sending you a basic question that revealed his identity in no way whatsoever. In the eighteenth minute, you buzz back a response.

🩺

Why?

Might break a bone tomorrow.

It only takes eleven minutes for you to respond this time, and Mirio hates that he’s counting.

🩺

I’ll be sure to eat breakfast then.

No later than midnight, tho.

Okay!

Seven minutes this time. He wasn’t expecting a response.

🩺

You don’t need an injury to stop by, you know.

Mirio grins. A real one.

If you insist. Still might have a scratch or two, though. 😀

Two minutes. Mirio is oblivious to the fact that you are cringing hard at his emoji usage.

🩺

don’t be taking advantage of my quirk :(

You’re right… promise you will be compensated for your time. 👍

It’s immediate.

If it’s not edible, I don’t want it.

Mirio decides he might take it a little easy when he trains tomorrow.

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bbytetsu · 4 years

Text

SIGNS

pairing: osamu miya x gn! reader

word count: ~3k

author’s note: angst. warnings for slight swearing, very slight suggestiveness. best read to signs by bloc party.

on the winter day marking your first year together, you’re reminded of how deeply you’ve fallen in love.

as you exit the subway station, you’re greeted by the familiar intersection splitting off into narrow streets, each lined by streetlights. the outskirts of osaka are humble, with their greige painted walls and steep, weathered roofs. but the ordinary things here—the 7/11, the spinning barber pole, the cat lingering by the red mailbox—are like landmarks to you, noticed and loved by your crescent eyes. scanning your surroundings, you turn left towards his apartment and continue straight.

5 minutes away from his place.

you amble past the 7/11 store. traces of nikuman waft in the cold air, inviting you in. you catch yourself smiling as you see the regular obasan, red-rimmed glasses perched on her leathery skin, bantering with the store owner—they’re definitely flirting, you think. through the wide windows, you watch the local high school boys’ volleyball team scatter throughout the rainbow aisles. some squat just below your field of vision, others pore through magazines by the register.

3 minutes away from his place.

you take a left. on your right, you pass the family-owned barber shop he visits. its endlessly spinning barber pole is a welcome dash of color amidst the neutral hues of the neighborhood. across from the shop stands the house with the red mailbox. the family’s calico cat idles dangerously close to the road and licks it paws before wandering off.

1 minute away from his place.

you pass the empty bike rack, and the gated residence comes into sight at the end of the street.

it’s all the same, but suddenly it’s not.

small fluffs of white begin to obscure your vision. you glance up at the sky, and your eyes widen—it’s snowing. juxtaposed against the osaka skyline, it’s almost as if the city lights are disintegrating, their embers falling around you in the form of bright snowflakes. you watch the snow in a trance, and before you know it, winter has draped a sheer white veil over the street, dusted over naked trees with its snowy kiss.

on the winter day marking your first year together, you feel as if your love for him has overflowed and trickled out from your chest. and now it surrounds you in the form of snow. falling so softly, so wonderfully dizzyingly.

----------

“i’m here, ‘samu,” you call out in a singsong voice as you twist your spare key in the lock. pushing open the door, you’re stunned to find his place completely dark. you step into the apartment and wrangle your boots off of your feet.

“’samu? you here?” with your eyes trained on the floor for any potential tripping hazards, you tread through the dim foyer.

“yeah, i’m here.” his familiar voice rings out, partially relieving your confusion. you look up to search for his figure.

“why’s it so- oh my god, what’s all this?” you nearly trip into the kitchen. you gasp at the sight of candles casting golden highlights across the dinner table. slivers of mahogany peek in between plates of nigiri, bowls of miso, and other tableware. in the center of the table, a glass vase holds two crimson roses, petals coated with glassy dewdrops.

you try to collect your thoughts. “i thought we were just meeting here,” you pause to think. “wait, did our dinner reservation get canceled? did you call me earlier? i might’ve missed it...” you fumble for your phone in your coat pocket.

he grins a slightly lopsided grin. “ya still haven’t caught on? i didn’t actually make a reservation, i was just tryna surprise ya… seeing as ya like surprises and all that. plus,” he clears his throat. “why would we go out to dinner when i can make it myself? i hear their wasabi isn’t even freshly made.”

you’re silent as tears well up in your eyes.

“hey, you’re not about to cry, are ya?” he’s unsure whether to poke fun of you or embrace you in a warm hug.

“i just can’t believe you did this all yourself,” you whisper, still fixated on the feast in front of you. even to your untrained eyes, you can tell that each each piece was handled with precision, delicacy, but above all, love. the air between you feels thick and honeyed, suffused with all the feelings brimming in your chest.

“i mean, i do this for a living.” you glance up at him. he shrugs, but you notice the tender twinkle in his eye.

“i know, but it’s still amazing. i don’t even know what to say,” you confess.

“ya don’t have to say anythin’,” he murmurs. “just let me enjoy the quiet for once.”

“huh?” your eyebrows furrow, but your lips curl into a faint smile. “okay, i take it back. you better be prepared to listen to me all night.”

he cocks his eyebrow. “why? is there something ya wanna do all night?”

“‘SAMU! don’t twist my words,” you lunge towards him. he recoils.

“oi, relax!!”

just as you’re about land a solid smack on his ass, he maneuvers behind you and folds his strong arms around you in a back hug. laughing, you squirm in his embrace, but he doesn’t budge.

“gotcha,” he huffs into your ear. he loosens his grip around you, allowing you to wriggle your arms above and over his. you intertwine your fingers with his, and the two of you sway from side to side like in a slow dance. he pulls your body closer to his chest.

“happy anniversary,” he whispers, as if he’s afraid that speaking any louder will disrupt the romantic atmosphere he’s so diligently crafted.

of course, you know that nothing could ruin this moment.

“mhm. happy anniversary to us.”

with his eyes closed, he breathes in your scent. the two of you are quiet—there is no need for words. the way your limbs melt into each other, no beginning or end to either of you, is enough for the both of you.

he loves you. you love him.

he’s thankful that sushi doesn’t need to be served hot. he’d hold you here for an eternity if he could.

----------

it’s funny how things change throughout the years.

you sit motionless, with both of your elbows pressed against the cold mahogany of the table. when you first sat down, the sun had just begun to creep below the skyline, wispy streaks of reds and yellows blazing in its wake. now, the sun was long gone, and your only companion was the moon, whom you know all too well these days. round and low in the dark sky, it casts shadows across the empty dinner table.

the apartment is silent besides the quiet ticking of the kitchen clock.

tick, tock. as if it’s a bomb waiting to explode. as if it’s mocking you for waiting so long. as if it’s counting down the time you have left with him.

you lean your forehead against your hands, clasped in a silent prayer. with your eyes closed, you allow any and all emotions to wash over you.

how could you forget our anniversary? does our relationship even matter to you? do i even matter to you? why am i always your second choice? how did things end up this way?

the muffled jangle of keys outside the door interrupts your thoughts, and the lock clicks as it turns open. hours ago, you would have perked up at the sound, but now it’s been much too late. you remain motionless. after shaking his shoes off, he walks into the dim kitchen to find you sitting at the dinner table, your forehead still pressed against your clasped hands.

“you forgot,” you whisper, refusing to look at him.

“i know, y/n. i’m so-”

you cut him off. “you could’ve called. or texted.”

“i’m so sor-”

“save it. i’ve been sitting here for the last… i don’t even know how many hours. and i’ve just been thinking about what to say.”

he’s quiet. how many more mistakes will it take for you to realize he no longer loves you like he used to? you shudder at the thought, but are unable to ignore it any longer. you’ve opened pandora’s box, unleashing thick smoke that swallows you whole. it clouds your every thought and contaminates your memories with him; it stings your eyes and steals the breath from your lungs.

you begin to shake, and he watches as your breaths shorten into small, erratic gasps. his chest tightens at the sight. kneeling down onto the ground to level himself with with your seated figure, he stretches his arms towards you. but to his shock, you flinch at his touch.

“don’t!” you gasp. “don’t come near me. i don’t want that-” you’re unable to finish your sentence, sudden gasps curbing whatever words were to come next.

“y/n, i’m sorry.” his voice is low, his mouth sours with dread.

“i know. but it’s not the first time that you’ve done something like this. remember my birthday?” you choke out, burying your face in your palms.

he grimaces at the mention. “i do. but ya said ya wouldn’t bring that up again. i thought we agreed to move past that.”

“well, yeah we did. but the thing is, it’s become a pattern.”

he stands up and hovers by your seated figure. “me forgetting? it’s happened two or three times. i wouldn’t say that’s a pattern. but listen, i know i was in the wrong and and that’s why i wanna say i’m sorry. i really am.”

you look up at him with puffy, bleary eyes. red tinges your waterline. “you just don’t get it, do you?”

“whaddya mean?” his mind scrambles. get what? he replays your interactions in a frantic attempt to uncover whatever deeper meaning he was missing.

“it’s not just you missing our anniversary, or you missing my birthday. it’s so much bigger than that. all of this,” you wave your hand. “is just a symptom of the bigger problem.”

he raises an eyebrow. “i wasn’t aware we had a bigger problem.”

his lack of awareness shocks you. how can you be so unobservant, so oblivious? all the sorrow and rage that you’ve repressed begins to bubble and overflow, like a pot of boiling water with its lid on for too long. you ball your fists as hot, stinging tears run down your cheeks. “you wanna know what it is, ‘samu?” you straighten your back and turn towards him. “it’s the fact that you no longer have room in your life for me! admit it, onigiri miya is more important to you than i am!”

“what’s onigiri miya gotta do with all this?” he retorts. his voice is grating. “i know i’ve been busy with work, but ya couldn’t possibly think that. you’ve always supported me and my dream of running my own damn restaurant, but now it’s the problem with us? the fact that i have a dream?”

“no, the fact that your dream doesn’t include me,” your voice quivers. “there’s no space for me in your future, ‘samu.”

“oh come on, ya know that’s not true. i’ve just been busy keeping up with it, especially with how business is growing.”

anger flares within you. how dare he dismiss your concerns as if they’re not legitimate? as if you’re nothing more than a small child whining for candy?

“but think about it!” you shoot up from your chair and look him in the eye. “when you envision yourself in 5 years, what do you think about? you think about onigiri miya, you think about how business is booming, critics are raving about your cooking. you’re raking in so much cash you’ve opened a new restaurant and you’re standing there in front of the new place, and maybe you’re cutting the ribbon for the grand opening. but am i there? am i standing next to you anywhere in your dream? do you think about us, where we’re going to be in five years? no, no you don’t. i’m not anywhere in the picture and you know it.”

even in the dark, you can see his jaw clench. the rest of his features grow rigid with frustration.

he, too, has reached his boiling point.

“how can ya possibly say that?” he seethes, his tone unforgiving like steel slicing through palpable air. “i told ya already, y/n. i’m sorry. i fucked up. i missed our anniversary. i even missed your birthday. but that is not the reason we won’t work out, i won’t let that be the reason. ya know i love ya. i do. but ya wanna pit yourself against my job... don’t ya think that’s a little unfair? for fuck’s sake, not even my job, but my dream? ya know how it’s been a dream of mine since forever to open my own shop. ya know how hard it’s been, how i shed blood, sweat, and tears to open it, much less to keep it going. of all people, ya know how hard it was for me to find something i wanted alone, something that was different than ‘tsumu’s. something that would let me be my own person. and now i’ve finally found it ya wanna take it away? all because ya need attention?”

his words leave a metallic aftertaste, and he watches your features twist in pain as you confirm your growing suspicions.

he’s outgrown me.

“i- i’m sorry. i know that you’re not trying to take anything away from me,” he confesses. he wants so desperately to take back his mangled words, but it’s too late. he’s dropped a lit match onto your bed of oil, setting flame to what he once knew.

you stand up shakily and face him: the man who taught you what it meant to love. the man who taught you what it meant to hurt.

“you’re right, i’m not. but you know what?” your voice cracks before growing raspier. “thanks for telling me that. because when i imagined my future, i always imagined a future in which you were by my side. i thought we’d move in together someday, maybe even get a dog, maybe even get married, maybe even have—oh, i don’t know—kids, and move into a house! help them with their math homework! take them to the aquarium, go on family picnics! make onigiri on sundays! but, i guess i’ve been a fucking fool, haven’t i?”

he looks at you with wide, dinner plate eyes.

you choke back sobs, not even bothering to wipe away the wet tears trailing down your cheeks. your heart weighs heavier than lead, and you turn on your heels.

“i- y/n, wait, where are ya going?” he reaches for you, the tips of his fingers brushing against your arm as you shoulder past him.

“outside. to think.”

as he realizes you have every intention of leaving the apartment, he trips into the hallway after you.

“wait, it’s fuckin’ freezing outside-”

“ii’ll be fine.” you forcefully grab the woolen coat off the coat rack and swing it over your shoulders.

“y/n. please, we can work this out.” you’ve never heard him like this—quiet, but painfully desperate.

too late.

“i need to think.”

you step through the doorway, not daring to look back.

----------

you trudge through the half melted snow that coats the street. as your eyes burn with tears, the faraway osaka city lights blur in your vision like a kaleidoscope. shivering, you dig your bare hands further into your pockets and clench onto the fabric—an attempt to preserve whatever heat there is, but more so as an expression of your anger.

your legs seem to move by themselves, and you grit your teeth to keep yourself from crying. how did things end up like this?

1 minute away from his place.

you hurry past the empty bike rack and the brick walls guarding the houses. the greige walls have never looked grayer.

3 minutes away from his place.

you pass by the house with the red mailbox, its obnoxious color like a warning that’s much too late. the calico cat has abandoned you and is nowhere to be seen. the spinning barber pole taunts you with its endless dance.

5 minutes away from his place.

you pass by the 7/11. there’s no one in the store except for the regular obasan, whose wrinkles are drawn taut in a frown. you watch as she fires words at the shopowner, her one hand pointing at him animatedly and the other resting on her hip. they’re definitely arguing, you think.

you finally reach the open intersection in front of the subway station. leaning against a streetlight, you survey the neighborhood defeatedly, trying to find beauty in the surroundings you once regarded with so much affection. trying to find a sign. water seeps off of branches and falls onto the pavement like teardrops. the steep-roofed houses huddle together in the cold, their walls practically rubbing against each other.

it’s all the same, but it’s somehow different.

you look down at your feet, slush coating the edges of your shoes. it pains you to see that the the snow is no longer bright or pure, but translucent. tinted an ugly brown. with footprints littered across its surface.

on the winter day marking your fourth year together, the snow you loved so much has melted into slush, revealing nothing but barren soil beneath.

it’s over between us.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu osamu #osamu miya #osamu imagine #osamu miya imagine #miya osamu #osamu x reader #osamu x y/n #osamu x you #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x y/n #miya osamu x you #bbytetsu

530 notes · View notes

obeymeaskme · 3 years

Text

Obey Me!: Human and Demon Hearts!

A/N: Remember to check my pinned post if you missed the other chapters! Another note; I had WAY too much fun writing the beginning of this! Hopefully it makes sense~

Chapter Three: Bonding's Mended (3/3)

Word Count: 1683

Rating: 18+

'Demon Feeding: A Start to the endless hunger of a demon's belly.

The cause of our behaviors dives deep into our past, when our kind and the celestial realm had known nothing but primal instincts. Humanity had not yet existed, and the earth realm was our battlegrounds. Flesh was torn by both Devil, Beast, and angel. Only our great Mages, now pacified by ash, can whisper to the book keepers of our carnal days. Yet while the Angelic build their realm, we still hunger, and wish to devour. Our hatred is barely ever quenched. Humans had been involved through their own ways. Growing and evolving long after our realms had taken refuge away from earth. But our history was rediscovered, and the three realms were connected.

Demon's had soon developed a taste for human souls. An almost sweet and pungent ecstasy only found in the spirit's layers. Yet the Angels seem to desire the human's souls for more pure and selfless purposes. So they say. We as a selfish kin must find ways around this. And we have. Humans are so very frail, but one cannot take from a living soul without their unwavering trust or agreement. But that's only for the whole meal. Ah yes- Just a small taste, barely a lick can satisfy. It was the Incubi, and the Succubi who have found the most pleasure in a Demon Feeding ritual. For many, a human's sensual pleasures are tied to their trust, and emotions. The Cubi have found their abilities to please have come in handy. They can easily sample the human soul, feeding of the human's energies, all while... entertaining themselves. The rest of us have begun to see the strings that connect Demons to humans as well. Even the Little Devils have their own ways. Most of us don't need a physical contract, or to eat away at their little dream worlds. No, just the sheer aura of a human's daily stress and anger are so divine, so tempting. No wonder the human world has grown fearful of us. They now know we can touch something they used to think they fully owned.'

A chill ran through Noelle's body. Not wanting to read more as she understood the narrator's point. The second sticky note was unlabeled, but since there were two options, this was probably the most plausible.

'Underdeveloped Magic and it's consequences.

Blood, bones and sacrifices were never needed to summon us to the human realm. Though the show and the fallen harvest are much appreciated. Though we now have an issue. Malaia has expressed a growing development in the human genes. Magic. It seems that now the human realm has entered into existence, they have developed their own magic. Most have realized what they're capable of, and are learning to manipulate it. They found ways to protect their realm from our hunger and manipulations. It's knowledge that is beginning to gnaw at my mind. Chewing it thoroughly. Yet it's not the well trained ones of magic that are the problem. It is the untrained ones we must look out for. Some of them have these hideous side effects they accidentally cause. Hell's fire wasn't enough to melt the flesh of a demon, but those flame's are so old. The new ones created by human magic are so fresh it can and will burn us to the bone, and perhaps past that if one is not careful. The other effects are as follows, but are just general nature.

Wart Tongue

Seared eyesight

confusion/forgetfulness

solidifying blood

barriers-'

The rest of the chapter went unread past Barriers. Noelle had gone through the index of the book and quickly read up on the different types of barriers until she came across one that explained her situation. It was a sort of magnetic barrier that if unchecked by a human with trained magic abilities, can cause harm to both demon and human.

The rest of the afternoon she spent her time locked in the library reading about magic, and trying to find a way to break her unintentional curse. According to her research the longer a demon is close to her, the more they will think unkindly of her, and will either tear her apart while their own body suffers the same, or manipulate her into handing over her soul. She also learned as to why this didn't seem to affect the brothers the same way. The types of demons are defined by their sins, with the Demon king and his associates being the exception. Thus different sins respond to her 'barrier' in different ways. Lust, and Greed are highly tuned to sense the danger of magic. Sloth, and Pride are most susceptible to giving into their instinct, and Wrath is unaffected due to their own constant rage with themselves. And Gluttony varied Demon to Demon. However, what concerned her was those who were spawned by Envy. Though it wasn't a reason that caused the disruption between Noelle and Levi, it was still concerning. In fact if Levi hadn't chosen to distance himself they'd both be very much dead.

Noelle had sighed heavily and texted Satan about the subject. And a quick reply came back. Satan seemed giddy and impressed with her progress on the matter. He then sent messages an hour later during his break about ways they can break the spell. But first she needed to test the strength of her barrier. He suggested that the only way they could do that was to snag Asmo, for when it came to surpassing a human's free will, he was a professional of sorts. Noelle swallowed hard at the suggestion, but once Satan had calmed her down over the phone, she agreed to meet him at Asmodeus' room.

The vibrant pinks and flowers decorating Asmodeus’ bedroom made her head spin. Yet it all looked inviting. There was even a cocoon chair that hung from the ceiling. Satan, Asmo and Mammon, for some ungodly reason, were already sitting on the fancy colorful rug. Asmo jumped up and ran to hug her out of habit with literally everyone else, but stopped short and gave a shudder along with a quick complaint.

“Owaahh~ You were right Satan, it's so hard being next to her! Which is really, REALLY inconvenient.”

Noelle blushed hard as Asmo withered in what she assumed was his growing lust over his forced restraint. That did not stop her from letting a remark slip from her lips.

“Oh hush- I thought you'd be into restraints.”

Asmo gasped while Satan and Mammon tried to cover up their laughter. After about 15 minutes passed, allowing Asmo and Mammon to get over their urges to run off, they sat Noelle right in front of Asmo on his bed. The barrier shielding Noelle had to be only so thick, and Asmo had the ability to get through shields and barriers with his lustrous charm. This was making Noelle exceedingly nervous that he'd take advantage of her in some way, but that's why Mammon and Satan were there. Mammon himself had actually been talked into taking Noelle's hand and ready to run out the door with her if anything went wrong, or if Asmo tried anything. Satan was there to make sure the other two didn't do anything too stupid.

Asmodeus was becoming giddy in getting to melt away at her guard, and possibly her heart as he says, and began reciting his usual spell while looking into her eyes.

“The eye's of a young, and beautiful mortal woman. They are so deep and golden. Even under those dark brown feathery irises...”

Mammon's snorting almost broke concentration of the two's moment, but was quickly corrected by a swift smack to the back of the head, as Asmo huffed and continued.

“Tell me Noelle~ Let me look into those pretty little eyes. Please, learn to place your trust in me. Tell me your desires.”

The soft whispers of Asmo's request had flooded her senses with a heated calm. No one else but Asmo could see the hidden and still seas of her mind as it became blank. All but a few trails of thought were left behind. He could sense her clarity, and saw her unrivaled trust in him. It was warm, and soft. Like a small candle by bedside. Asmo smiled softly, and brushed some hair behind her ear, and a soft sigh escaped her lips. Her eyes fluttered closed but she could still hear him, even then, deep in her mind as it went fully numb and the focus of her desires came to light.

“Tell me your desires”

The words vibrated behind her eyes and a single soft word came from her lips.

“Leviathan.”

“...”

“... uh-”

All too quickly Noelle had jumped in her skin as she regained her senses, and a deep violet red painted her face. When she did come back around and her vision stopped spinning from the sudden jolt, she saw the three brothers in hysterics, laughing on the floor and bed. Satan had put his hand on the wall beside him to balance himself, and covered his face. He was doing all he could to restrain his laughter. Mammon and Asmodeus had zero shame as they bellowed out, both of them grabbed at their guts, and caused Noelle's embarrassment to burn on her ears.

“Sh-SHUT UP! IT'S NOT FUNNY! WHAT DID I SAY!”

Satan was the first to calm down, clearing his throat more than once, trying to speak clearly.

“Did you not hear yourself? A-Asmo- What did you do! Tchh-”

Asmo shook his head, and had to cling onto Noelle to stay balanced on the bed.

“F-for a second I thought you said your deepest desire was- pffft Levi!”

Noelle silently stood up, covering her face and left the room while Satan yelled after her about knowing how to break the spell. But that was going to wait until she was able to recover from her current, flustered state.

#obey me: human and demon hearts #obey me #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphagor #obey me fanfic #obey me oc

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infiniteiram · 3 years

Text

I Never Understood Summer Love.

a vds one shot. you can find more on my ao3.

( @ apolloswords )

feel free to comment/message me any suggestions for one shot ideas!

Jens and Lucas experience a summer love together, but even when the seasons change, the feelings they have shared do not.

( jens and lucas | i never understood summer love )

I never understood summer love. Lucas thought to himself. Because I'll never know why they call it summer love when I still long for you as the leaves begin to fall.

The early chill of the autumn air was crisp this morning, as both boys slipped on their jackets before heading out for another day of school. The navy blue jacket of the taller raven-haired boy felt soft around his body. But not as soft as the gentle brown curls and skin belonging to the boy of his past. His summer past. And from across the school's courtyard, the boy of the summer sat, hugged by the denim jacket he had always found security and comfort in. But not as much as he found security and comfort in the boy his eyes could never break gaze from. Without even realizing it, he was watching him again. Wondering how they were once so close and intimate, to barely even holding an exchange of greetings now. Actually, he didn't need to wonder. He knew how they had become sudden strangers. But even if he knew the question to his own answer, that didn't break his stolen glances.

Until the other boys' dark brown eyes met his blue one, and he averted his eyes, looking away quickly. Ashamed to have been caught staring.

But he didn't know why he felt ashamed, why he felt like he needed to be ashamed. Lucas figured that when they went back to school, he would forget about Jens. Forget about the way the sunlight kissed the tip of his nose as he tossed his head back, laughing at some snarky remark he made. Forget about the way Jens looked at him, like he was the reason the sun stayed out all day. Forget about the way his hands trailed and wandered all over him, the curve of his shoulders, dip in his back and sharpness of his lithe jawline. Forget about Jens entirely.

Yet, even from across the courtyard, as both boys pretended they were nothing but someone passing by, he knew there was no way he could forget any of that. And as the autumn leaves rustled behind him, disrupting his golden memories, Lucas continued to long for the summer he once knew.

Frustrated, and feeling rather even more sorry for himself, Lucas got up and walked away.The newly fallen leaves felt loud underneath his feet, and with each step, it felt like he was walking away from more than his spot on the courtyard. His cheeks were a little pink from the harshness of the colder air, spiking his skin. Lucas could do nothing but just sigh. Deep down, he felt himself walk further away from what he had found familiarity with.

It wouldn't have been the second time he'd done that to avoid confronting the way he felt.

It started out like any other summer. Basking in the warm sunlight all day, partying under the moon all night. Yet, it was so much more different this time around. Lucas would have to leave everything he once knew behind. He would have to leave everything in his familiarity. It was no surprise that Lucas resented heading over to live with his cousin Milan, but since he was still in high school with no actual parent around, he had to find family elsewhere, And the closest thing he had to family was all the way in Belgium. Granted, it wasn't super far away, but Lucas already felt an ache in his heart the second he departed from his friends at the train station. Long gone were the days of Utrecht, and now were days of Antwerp.

It made him feel even more alone than he already did.

But that was until he saw him. He remembered the first time he had seen him. It was when he and Milan had gotten high at some park, laying in the grass that tickled the back of their necks and their fingertips. Milan had sat up, calling a group of guys over and even though Lucas' mind was a little hazy from the weed, he couldn't mistake how beautiful one of the boys jogging over looked.

He was tall, dark hair flowing as he came forward, skin so very sun kissed from spending all his days outside in the summer sun. The grin on his face was playful, but also rather teasing. Something in between a smirk and the start of a laugh. Lucas felt like he wasn't high anymore, as the world just seemed to clear and become in focus around him. But, at the same time, his whole body felt afloat. He felt a sense of euphoria, a rush of both serotonin and dopamine running through him.

The second their eyes locked, both of them stared a little too long at each other. Their gazes lingered, as they studied their unfamiliarity, but felt the pull towards each other. Lucas knew instantly. He couldn't mistake the way his heart skipped, the way he felt his cheeks go into a mellow pink and the small grin on his face, as he smiled to the ground. But the boy and his warm eyes, only gave him a smile back. Knowing the same thing Lucas did.

"Hey, I'm Jens." The raven haired boy introduced, a glint in his eyes as he eyed Lucas up and down.

"I'm Lucas." He replied back.

As the summer began to continue its long days, Lucas and Jens grew closer. The pull between them only seemed to get stronger as cryptic messages laid between their quiet conversations with words only shared between them. As their smiles became a little less secretive, and more knowing. Lucas didn't know what to describe this feeling as, but he didn't think he could even if he tried.

And even if he tried to deny it, to repress the confusion and second thoughts, he was at least sure of one thing.

There was more to this summer, this new life in Antwerp, than he had imagined. And more towards Jens, who he couldn't seem to get enough of.

Last night was a blur in Jens' mind. He didn't remember how it happened, couldn't remember how it could've happened. But one thing must have led to another, because he did recall bringing Lucas home after a quite eventful night of partying. The way Jens couldn't keep his eyes off of this new Dutch boy, and how even from across a crowded room, he searched for him. Looking around frantically until he was met with the sparkling blue eyes clearer than the bright blue sky and a pair of pretty pink lips turned up into a an even brighter smile.

It took him a second when he woke up, seeing the way the morning set aglow on a still sleeping Lucas to fully believe it. To fully believe he was right there. Jens got up for a second, pulling on his red crewneck and wandering out of his room for a second.

Maybe it was a dream, maybe it was all in his head. The endless pining over Lucas had finally caught up to him, the way he loved looking at the stars reflect in his bright blue eyes, freckles dance over his nose and smile light up each one of his days. But when he wandered back in, he saw him again. Saw the way Lucas still hadn't stirred awake and was nothing but a peaceful sleeping beauty.

Jens couldn't help but continue to admire him. Him underneath his bedsheets, his brown curls splayed all over his pillow. Jens felt his heart beat faster, even if his whole body remained at ease. There was something special about Lucas, something he had never seen in someone before. Let alone feel for someone before. But it didn't scare him. Even if his feelings were just as much confusing as they were strong, he wasn't scared.

Because when Lucas, very hesitantly, reached out to hold his hand the day before, Jens didn't need to be scared. Not when Lucas and his love made him feel safe.

So Jens held his hand back, feeling the cool metal of Lucas' silver rings against his fingertips. Long slender fingers intertwined in his own calloused ones. Lucas' hand in his, and his hand in Lucas'.

The night fell on both boys, but that didn't stop the glow from both of them light up Lucas' room. He and Jens had stumbled home from another party, both too sober to be willing to be around those not. But that was because they were intoxicated with each other entirely. Jens let his eyes watch Lucas in front of him, the way he touched his body like he was a sculptor sculpting his own self. The way Lucas' hands let the shadows of the night paint him like a masterpiece. Jens was didn't think he had ever seen anything so ethereal, nor did he think he ever would.

But here was Lucas, in front of him. The way he moved, the way he was just so himself in front of him. The vulnerability of both boys, looking at each other like nothing else in the world existed outside of them.

So when Jens pulled Lucas in, letting his hands now wander over Lucas, he was definitely sure nothing did exist outside of Lucas. The way their lips touched, creating both actions of desire and affection dictate their next move. The way Jens actually did think Lucas was something sculpted by a god himself, something so far out of humanity's reach. The way Jens poured every single part of him into entirely loving Lucas in a way he had never loved before.

Lucas wasn't just a boy he was lucky to meet and have a connection with. Lucas was a world all on his own, and Jens didn't think he could ever reach out and feel the wonders of a universe at the edge of his fingertips.

Yet, like all good days, the sun sets into the darkness of the night. And while some nights can be lit up by the brightness of twinkling stars and the illuminating beauty of the moon, some nights are filled with the darkness.

"We don't have to end it." The boy pleaded, his dark brown eyes widening as tears began to fill them.

"You're right we don't. But we lived a summer dream and I don't think it can continue."

"Why Lucas? Why must things change? Why are we doing this?"

The boy, who's blue eyes were just as teary tried to hold back the tremble in his voice but to no avail. "Because, things change. People change. And we have to go back to our normal lives now."

"So I can't make you apart of mine?" He cried, his voice cracking out of frustration. Jens felt like he couldn't breath. His chest ached from the anger and sadness, but not as much as his heart ached for losing Lucas. For losing his lover.

Lucas only bit his lip and shook his head. He knew Jens was right, he was allowed to be with him. He could be with him. But Lucas didn't know how he could accept Jens changing a huge aspect of his life to be with him. To be out, to be unafraid of being in love with a boy. To being in love with him, with Lucas.

"I can't have you changing your life just because of some summer where we hid in the shadows of the sun. I can't have you changing your life for me."

"Do you not want this anymore?"

Biting his lip again and finally letting the tears streak his face, Lucas shook his head. "No."

He'd never lied to Jens before, never felt like he had too. But he just did. To protect and hide the truth from someone he cared about. He couldn't let Jens know how much this ached him. He couldn't let Jens know that all of this was another change to his life, one he was afraid to accept, no matter how good of thing it was.

So as the summer sun began to hide behind the autumn leaves changing colours, Lucas figured that he had to let go. Let go of the boy who was more than just a summer love.

The truth was, Lucas had no problem loving Jens at any point of the year. In every month, week and day. In every hour, minute and second. In every season, life and universe.

Sometimes when Lucas was sad, he would lay down on the floor of his room and simply put on his headphones. If it was any other day, he would probably scroll through the abundance of playlists he'd curated, ranging from eccentric 70's pop to Lana Del Ray's discography. Now, he would scroll through his library of records and listen to the soft strums of the guitar. Sometimes the songs played with covers of songs he knew, other times, they were just an abstract mess of melodies meddling together. Whatever it was, he enjoyed it.

He would think about the times he'd heard Jens mess around on his guitar, when they were both hanging out and not really doing much but enjoying each other's company. Jens was shy at first, almost refusing to even let Lucas hear him play, but after a few hangouts, he smiled at him and let him listen. Jens tried to impress him at first, wanting to show off his impressive guitar playing skills, but that wasn't what ended up impressing Lucas.

"Play that again." Lucas had told him. "Play that thing you just played.

Jens raised his eyebrows, letting out a confused laugh. "You liked that?"

He shrugged, not seeing why it was a big deal. "Yeah I did. It sounded really good."

"I was just messing around." Jens admitted, blushing slightly. "It was just something that came to me, nothing that special."

"Well," Lucas smiled at him. "You should mess around even more. I think what you just played may have been my favourite thing yet."

So that's what Jens did. They spent the rest of the quiet summer afternoon messing about on his guitar. And Lucas recorded it, wanting to keep something of this moment forever.

And now, when he was alone in his room, he realized it was a good thing he did. It might be the last thing of Jens he had.

Lately, Jens had started to take the long way home. Not because he was rather adamant on getting home, or because he enjoyed walking, but because he considered it to be more scenic. Walking through the small part of town, with the local shops decorating their fronts to fit the autumn aesthetic was definitely scenic, but that wasn't what caught his eye. What caught his eye was the boy in the window, the one who was busy working in some local boutique by helping. Lucas had begun working there, shortly after school started, from what he heard from Milan. And Jens never had the nerve to step inside, he knew the reaction he'd get from him if he did.

But Jens couldn't help himself from taking this route. Aside from seeing Lucas at the courtyard before school, the slight passing by in the halls and from his back seat in History class, it was one of the other times he could see him. He would have loved to talk to him, to strike up conversations like they once had.

He knew he couldn't. He couldn't mistake the way Lucas avoided him, instantly looking away or leaving the second he caught Jens looking at him. Or when Jens caught him looking. Whatever it was, he knew Lucas wanted to be left alone. Jens wished he could convince him otherwise, but that probably would only make things worse.

So Jens would just sigh. Even if the small glimpse lifted his spirits up and made his heart swell for even the slightest second, he only felt worse each time as he walked away.

"I just don't get it." Jens said as Lucas felt his heart beating. "I don't get why you think you can't be in my life."

The last thing Lucas ever expected was to see Jens stumble into the boutique just before he was about to go on his break. It had been a month since they had their last conversation. He expected to feel euphoric seeing Jens come in and ask to talk to him, but he could only be reminded of their good times and felt his heart shatter as he realized that he was the one who put an end to that. And because after all this time, Jens hadn't forgotten about him.

Lucas let Jens lead him to some nearby park, to talk before Lucas had to head back to work. For the first minute, they sat in silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it was not the comfortable silence they used to bask in. They were both struggling on what to say, now that they had telepathically established what they would be talking about.

"I don't get why you think the summer was the only time we could be together. Fuck, I know some things don't always make sense but, I don't know why you think this does. This silence, this avoidance. At first I thought maybe I was just a fling, something for the summer. But I see the way you still look at me Luc, you and your big beautiful eyes staring at me and I feel my entire world just go to a still." Jens continued to ramble.

He looked up a bit, shocked how much Jens had observed about his recent behaviour. The words were caught in his throat, but he tried to force some sort of response out.

"You think my eyes are beautiful?" He choked out, his mouth quivering and his voice trembling.

Jens snorted, but nodded with a light laugh. "Yeah Luc, I think your eyes are beautiful. I think what we had was beautiful and fuck, I think you're beautiful. Okay? That's it. I think you're beautiful, I always have. It's not just your eyes, your smile or anything in specific, it's just you."

He still couldn't give out a response, at a complete loss for words. But he did the most natural thing he could do, the most natural things that Jens made him do.

Lucas smiled. He smiled his soft smile at Jens as his cheeks turned pink, a few shades lighter than his warm sweater against the cold air. Jens smiled back. Because even if Lucas hadn't said a word, much like the past few weeks, at least this silence was a bit more familiar.

As they smiled at each other, they realized the world around them didn't seem so cold anymore. There was another hint of the familiarity, a warm glow emitting from the both of them. Even in the later days of autumn, the summer didn't feel so far away anymore.

"I can't do this anymore. I can't keep seeing you and pretending this is okay. I can't keep doing this Luc, so just tell me. Satisfy me, make some shit up but tell me what I've been begging to know." Jens pleaded. "Why didn't you want it anymore?"

The party felt far away, even though they were only in the kitchen of the house. Lucas didn't know how to go about stringing the words, rather they were lies or the truth. When no response came out of him again, Jens just nodded to himself. Without a word, he turned, finally being the one to walk away.

"Do you really not get it?" Lucas blurted out, surprising the both of them. Jens turned around quickly, his mouth slightly hanging open and his eyes wide. It urged Lucas to continue, finally admitting the truth.

"That I'm fucking in love with you." He breathed out. "You came into my life while everything around me was changing and I didn't think that I'd have something good come about that. But you came and you were a good change, a good thing. The first good thing in awhile and maybe even the best. And I know it didn't scare you, but it scared me. I lied when I said it was for your sake, because it was for mine. I was the one thinking you couldn't be in my mess of a life, couldn't be caught up in the mess that is me. I loved you too much and I knew you deserved better, better than me."

Smiling softly, Jens shook his head like he was about to tease Lucas. "I can love you anytime I want Luc, and the funny thing is I do. Because while things do and will change, some things don't. And for me, it's the way I feel for you." He paused, coming closer to him and placing gentle hand on Lucas' jaw. Whispering, he added. "Because I'm in fucking love with you too."

A few weeks later, Jens was holding Lucas back into his arms in the later hours of the night. The familiar feeling of his bedsheets against his bare skin, Lucas beneath him and the brisk of the night through his slightly open window let shivers down his spine. But they were quickly counteracted by the sparks igniting through him from the smaller boy who was a bundle of warmth against him. Jens smiled down at him, against the soft tickles of his curls against his face and vibrations of his light snored against his chest. He kissed the top of Lucas' head, wishing him a good night's sleep.

I never understood summer love. Jens thought to himself. For how could I only love you in in one season, when you were meant to be with me in each and every one.

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dripkingpetey · 3 years

Text

you're my person-b.boeser

“You’re my person, you’re who I want to be with for the rest of my life Brock.”

You were cuddling on the couch with Milo and Coolie when you saw that Brock had sent a video and you opened it immediately, the video started off with Brock in a hockey locker room and the bottom half of his hockey gear on.

He grabbed a brand new stick and put a little piece of hockey tape on it and grabbed a sharpie to write “y/n<3”. He gave the camera a quick smile before he started taping the stick up. “I love you so much y/n, and I miss you even more. I wish I could be with you right now, all of this covid shit sucks.” He said to the camera and smiled again before pressing the end recording button. “Call me tonight okay? I want to see your beautiful face and the dogs.” As soon as Brock finished talking Elias entered the room. “Are you talking to yourself?” The Swedish boy said laughing at Brock and he pressed the end recording button.

“Ohhh, you’re sending a video to y/n talking about how much you love her aren’t you.” Elias laughed at Brock as he went to go put his hockey gear on as well. “Well, at least I'm not a cold-hearted alien bitch.” Brock scoffed at Elias before putting the rest of his hockey gear on and going out onto the ice.

The video Brock sent almost made you cry, a couple reasons being how much you missed him and you realized how much you loved him and that he definitely loved you back. You quickly took a photo of you and Coolie since Milo was in the kitchen and sent it to him followed by a quick text.

Tell me when you get back to the hotel after the game, I’ll definitely call you♥️

It was game five in the Vegas Golden Knights vs. Canucks series Brock had scored a goal for the first time in this series and Brock being the superstitious player he is, he definitely thought it was cause he put your name on his stick. He got back to his hotel room as soon as he could and called you, you picked up right away, setting your phone up in the kitchen so he could see you and the dogs when you had realized what you looked like. You were sitting on the kitchen stool fully dressed in brocks clothes, and your hair was thrown into a messy bun with the hood of Brocks hoodie over it.

“Hey goofy,” Brock grinned at how adorable you looked in his clothes as you tried to pick Milo up since he was still a puppy and you could hold him. “Hey babe,” you smiled at you tried to wave Milos paw at him. You and Brock laughed about it and talked to each other for awhile about your days and how excited you are to see each other after the playoffs.

“Hey baby,” You said giving him a big hug as he stepped in the door, Canucks just lost game 7 and Brock decided to fly back to Vancouver right after the game. You could tell he was sad so you rubbed his back softly as he let out a couple muffled cries, so you moved one of your hands up to rub his neck and run your fingers through his hair.

“Sorry,” Brock mumbled into your neck while sniffling and wiping his tears away. “It’s okay, let them out if you need to.” You pulled your head away from his to smile at you, before you knew it your lips were clashed together, you had missed everything about him and especially his kisses. Brock pulled away before resting his head on your shoulder again while hugging you.

Brock finally decided to turn his attention over to the two dogs who were jumping all over him. “Hey boys, sorry about that.” He smiled and sat down on the floor so he could play with him.

“Here, I’ll take your bags and bring them upstairs.” You motioned your hands out for him to pass the bag to you and he did. “I’ll go upstairs in a minute, just want to play with the boys for a little.” Brock told you as you headed upstairs. You grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a shirt for him as you settled in bed.

Brock got into bed and kissed you softly as you giggled. “Your beard feels weird,” “does it?” I kind of like it, maybe I should keep it.” Brock teased you as you played with his bread a little, twirling strands of his beard with you fingers as he laid down on your chest and held on to your waist. “Will you cuddle me?” Brock pouted at you as you rubbed his lower back and drifted off to sleep. “Obviously,” you smiled at him while raking your fingers through his messy blonde hair and adjusting your bodies so the both of you feel more comfortable.

You were half asleep when you heard Brock sniffling quietly and you knew he was very hurt, you started rubbing small circles on his back and occasionally scratching it to comfort him. “C’mon Brock, talk about it, I’ll listen to you.” You mumbled just loud enough that he could hear you.

“I just,” Brock took a long sigh before he finished his sentence. “ I don’t know, I feel like I could’ve contributed more.” He buried his face back into your chest as he wrapped his arm around you. “Brock, you did absolutely amazing. It was your first time in the playoffs and I know you’ll have lots more chances. Stop being so hard on yourself.”

Brock didn’t know how to respond to you, he knew you were right. There is going to be more chances but he definitely was just in the moment. “Get some sleep, I think we both need it. If you’re feeling better we should take the boys out for a walk and get ready for Minnesota.” You gave him one last kiss on the head before falling asleep. Brock is usually the type cutting you and being big spoon but tonight he needed to be the one who was being cuddled.

“Holy shit it’s already snowing?” You looked outside to see Milo and Coolie covered in snow.

“Yeah, it starts snowing pretty early here, not like Vancouver.” Brock laughed at the dogs playing in the snow as he wrapped his arms around you from behind and placed a light kiss to your cheek. The warmth from the fireplace heating up the house and standing there with Brock just felt right, you hadn't realize it but every single moment you’ve had with him just feels right. Wether it’s just sitting there in silence enjoying eachothers company or talking the whole night and not sleeping always just felt right.

“You’re my person, you’re who I want to be with for the rest of my life Brock. I love you, and I’ve waited too long to say that I never want to be with anyone else but you. And I mean it .” That was the first time you said anything like that to him. It was alway Brock who did things first. He asked you out first, initiated your first kiss, asked you to move in with him first and said I love you first.

A wave of relief rushed through your body when Brock finally responded. “Then be with me for the rest of your life, cause I feel the same way y/n.” You guys stayed smiling at each other for awhile before the dogs came up and disrupted you. “Oh god, you guys are soaked.” Brock laughed while trying to get a towel so he can dry them off. You smiled and mumbled to yourself. “I love my boys,” you snapped out of it quickly when you realized coolie was tackling Brock and he needed help so you sat your tea down and laughed at them as you tried to help Brock.

“Great hockey player, but can get tackled by a dog. Maybe should add that to a list of cons.” You teased Brock as you helped him up. Brock scoffed at you before pulling you in for a kiss and pulling away. “Add the great kisser to the pros list while you’re at it.” He said with a wink knowing that was one of the best kisses you’ve ever had and would be craving for a second one.

You quickly scoffed at his cockiness and begged him for another kiss.

1,429 words

#brock boeser #brock boeser x reader #brock boeser imagine #brock boeser fic #nhl canucks #nhl hockey #nhl bubble #nhl imagine #nhl #nhl players #vancouver canucks #canucks hockey #canucks #vancouver canucks x reader #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #hockeyblr

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icecreamkink · 3 years

Text

watched all of the untamed / cql in two weeks after my friend 1 told me abt mdzs a hundred years ago and my friends 2 and 3 tried to get me into cql for like two whole years and there are.

feelings.

very first scene is a very dramatic death in the middle of nightmare battle on sith planet land . i will forget abt it in the next tenish episodes and then will be very surprised when it becomes Extremely Painful

anyway magic flying gays and possession and human sacrifice! we are off to a great start

in retrospect, chaos goblin wei wuxian must have had a blast pretending to be so cRaZy and be as disruptive as he could as mo xuanyu lbr

listen. why is fire always evil coded. cant a magic clan wear red, black and orange and have flame motif while being wholesome?

For Legal Reasons These Are Not Zombies

i wish the politics of the sect were a bit clearer, especially at the beggining when the wen clan had sm power, was wen ruohan the chief cultivator? is that why they were so slow in responding to the attacks? im v confused by the pre yiling patriarch politics

fighting in the roof by the moonlight as way of flirtiiiiiiing. as i understand this is a wuxia/xianxia trope and honestly...... thank u for ur service

slight bullying and being a nuisance in general, as a way of flirting we love to see it

wwx: if i drink on the rooftop, thats not inside the cloud recesses! hmmm check and mate :D lwj: i will fuck u up so help me god wwx: :0

i lov them

through hell or high water (quite literally) wei wuxian rem ains a trashfire gremlin till the end and i love him with my whole heart

in the pt subs wei wuxian calls jiang cheng a stubborn duck and i dearly wish that had come back

my opinions on almost every character goes from love to hate u - Hmm Me Like U - BABY. ILY. and i am Very Pleased w that. its been a while since i loved such a complete cast so much i think

no really. i WONT go into a detailed rant abt what i love about each of these characters and each of their relationships to each other. but i COULD.

some lan disciples in the loudest whisper ever: YEAH THATS THE JIN BASTARD MENG YAO HEARD THE GOT SUPER HUMILIATED BY HIS DAD LOL SURE HOPE HE DOESNT TAKE SLIGHTS TO HIS CHARACTER TO HEART

lan xichen, immediately: i must Love him

being into problematic ppl is in the Lan genetics, we come to realize

wen qing deserves so many awards for so many things but not snapping and just stabbing wen chao is at the top

that scene at lan qirens class where wwx talks about using resentful energy to fight a violent spirit. exquisite.

It establishes Good Student lan wangji, wei wuxian as curious and questioning and not afraid of taboo, lwj sees that wwx is not, in fact, a dumb ass hes just a Dumbass, shows us the audience (esp. a western audience) how shocking the idea of disrupting the dead/dying and controlling resentful energy actually is, the theoretical foreshadow arguing, everyone else like ‘shUT UP’, “and how could you ensure that the resentful energy would obey you and not hurt other?” “well i havent thought that far” and of course, lan qiren just straight up lobbing a hard object at wwx head,. chefs kiss

fellas is it gay to bother the hot rule obessessed nerd from ur school and make drawings of him with flowers in his hair and then hide gay porn in his book to antagonize him and ask him to hold ur hand and be ur friend and talk to him all the time and get him drunk and give him bunnies bc you know he likes them and give him a lantern and always want his attention and dedicate yourself to getting him to smile-

and after all of that wwx rly said oh i Admire him, aksd like yeah we all were there in high school buddy

i have Learned. caves = gay.

accidental marriage +beint physically tied together with the sacred married ribbon+ gay panic+foreshadowing+bunnies! in the cave (1)

the story abt lan yi and baoshan sanren tho. i would like to see it

early days wen bros pull my heart strings like a guqin

EVERYTHING about the lantern scene; disaster hets jiang yanli and jin zixuan; how wwx made lwj a bunny lantern. how soft and touched lwj was. wwx gleefully pointing out he was smiling and lwj IMMEDIATELY PULLING HIW SWORD ON HIM LMAO. tragically foreshadowy promises to do right by pepople, living without regrets. lwjs 'oh no do i love him??' face. just. all of it.

i have it on good acc that in the novel lwj is explicitly Repressed Gay Panicked Big Horny which is delightful and rly Adds to the performance

baby lwj is really just conceal dont feel dont let them know u have EMOTIONS (derogatory)

jiang cheng rly went "why dont.u go play with HIM if u like him so much"

jc and wwx have big BIG annoying sibling energy dont think too hard abt it or youll cry

lotus pier is soo pretty :((((((((((((((((

up until episode 13 you could think this could be a magical ancient chinese gays pride n prejudice w swords and shenanigans ................youre just not prepared for the game of thrones of it all

seriously ha ha ha i cried so much w this show my eyes genuinely swelled up . like. physically. fun timez fun timez

that being said, its hilarious that wen xu goes to cloud recesses like 'come out or ill kill all these hostages' and then DOESNT WAIT FOR AN ASWER AND KILLS THEM ALL IMMEDIATELY. do u know how blackmail works sir

would like to make it recorded that from day one i was like 'CALL A GODDAMN CULTIVATION G20 THIS ASSHOLE SECT IS LITERALLY MASSACRING YALL!!' and it took them like 3 or 4 massacres to do anything and they STILL sent their heirs into their territory LIKE

when wwx cites the gusu lan rules to wen chao tho. that rebel/attention whore/cutie pie 'look lan zhan i DID memorize the rules after all' ‘also a big fuck you to the wen sect :D :D’ sweet spot that scene achieves . delicious

all the cultivator young masters being petty af even though they are practically prisoners at the cave is hilarious and i love them

hurt and comfort + gay mistunderstandings + watsonian gay declaration music + accidental evil acquisition! at the cave (2)

its like where do i start? the fact theyre both trapped and kind of heavily injured inside an isolated cave with a murder turtle? wwx gay panicking lwj into coughing up bad blood? lwj being jealous as wwx babbles abt mianmian? telling him he shouldnt play with people and wwx saying he never played him? wwx going Oh. I See what is happening. YOU like mianmian, and lwj absolute done face ??? (iconic) wwx touching the sacred married ribbon Again? the telepathic communication? the sword? WEI WUXIAN ASKING LAN WANGJI TO SING TO HIM AS HE IS PASSING OUT AND LWJ SINGING HIM. THE SONG. HE WROTE. FOR WWX. AND THAT HE CALLED. THEIR SHIP NAME????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

they are SO insufferable pleeeeease

in the words of my friend 1 : “CQL is so gay we were all amazed how it got past the censors Ofc unfortunately it can't be novel level gay But they did their best And we love them for it”

in the theme of songs THIS OST. WUJI HAS BEEN LIVING IN MY MIND RENT FREE SINCE I FIRST HEARD IT the whole ost is so so sO beautiful.

the costuming in this is also soooo exquisite. the embroidery? the fabrics? the details? how every sect and clan has a distinct style and architecture? (also ik they based each off of dif periods in chinese history which is REALLY fucking cool) just chefs kiss

the direction too!. i enjoy the unusual camera movements and i think they give it that Vibe, also their composition is PARTICULARLY good when it comes to telling the subtext through position of camera/position of character (like nhs off to the side in scenes he at first glance doesnt need to be/ how lwj is often centered when hes Jealous Yearning at wwx being affectionate w other ppl, wwx return from burial mounds etc)

ik madam yu is like Badass Milf Check and shes not getting any mom of the year awards but im delighted at how messy she is. IMAGINE that woman on tiktok

you better have enjoyed gay cave (2) bc its Just Pain from here on out!

jiang fengmian and madame yu win the Most Dramatic Way to show they do care about each other, actually ..... ever :)

i thought jiang yanli jiang cheng and wei wuxian forcing themselves to escape yunmeng barely holding on after their parents are killed was going to be the height of pain in this show. ha.

the family dynamics in general on this showwwww, both blood/ adopted/ found families, brotherly bonds and lifelong friendships just. rly. truly. fucked me up. theyre all so important and complicated and well rounded and beautiful and tragic

and beyond being a Win For the Gays im so glad the relationships w wwx and jiang yanli/ wen qing were NOT changed from platonic bc they are so much better like that imo. like maybe if we didnt Live In A Society it wouldnt be so, but the fact wwx and others can love and value them so much and theres nothing romantic or sexual abt it is like. so refreshing. especially @ jyl, with the way he and jc are overprotective of her and shes such a nurturing/care taker figure for them, it would just not vibe as well if they made it romantic

i love that this is a story abt Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch aka Actual Satan/Boogey Man/Village With/Public Enemy Number One , my dude is literally a necromancer who only dresses in black and has evil smokey black tendrils wafting out of him, but the really edgy one is still jiang cheng, pastel purple fashion icon

and speaking of best/worst siblings wei wuxian and jiang cheng *immediately starts crying*

The Golden Core Transfer i just. no thots only tears

wen qing and wen ning putting themselves in so much danger just.... to help them. wn saving jc from wen chao. wq finding a way to get wwx to transfer his core. like thinking about the monumental work these two did to help wwx and jyl and jc... jyl trying so fucking hard to be strong and keep on moving and giver her little brothers comfort after losing everything... jiang cheng. losing his parents and his home and his ability to do anything abt it and his complete desperation and lack of self worth and turning on them with agression when he didnt realize all that they did for him ... hhhhhhhhhhhhh

me, pointing at the whole cast “i just LOVE them mom!!!”

its sad tho, that BARELY ANY of the women have like.... actual important conversations let alone relationships with each other at all in the story. and like wq and jyl have stayed at the same place for extended periods of time, where wq actively took care of her TWICE, and still! not one measly convo, nothing! ................ .𝓌ₕᵧ

everyone in this show need a good sip of Self Worth and Stop Sacrificing Yourself juice

ngl the sword flying looks very dumb

“a-cheng, please bring a-xian back.” “i will, i promise.” ;-;

the whole calling each other by the More Intimate Version of the name, first as teasing and later as true intimacy. mmmhmmm yes

untamed where everythings the same but wwx evil flute song is eoeo

related that scene when wwx comes back from the burial mounds for the first time w demonic cultivation and he acts all formal and calls lwj hanguang-jun and keeps being evasive and distant and mean and soooooo................. facetious

and how hes kind of desperately trying to keep intense lwj at bay (A FIRST) and avoiding actually talking to either of them and its all tension ughhh and then he MOCKS his and lwjs relationship, he jokes w him in this like... mean echo of their usual ~banter~ oof

and like!!! uncertain but so relieved jc who just HUGS him w no reservations for once and its not like he isnt just as worried as lwj abt wwx and what hes doing, but he chooses in that moment to enjoy getting him back first and mmhmMMMmMm yes (maybe my favorite scene in the whole show? MAYBE SO. )

highkey hurt me but also. i might be into mean wwx. i will take no criticism.

lan zhans sad eyes tho :(((((((((

on one hand i wish we could have seen what happened at the burial mounds but on the other the timeskip adds so much flair to his return so im hnnn

also i love that hes been missing for 3 months reappears kinda melancholic and bloodthirsty and knowing malign tricks and jc is like 'so. are u sad bc of lan wangji'

when ur bae survived the war but he thinks ur evil/ might be evil so you cant kiss :///

hmmm talking at the rooftop under the moonlight not mentioning everything that stands between usssss

they are the two jades of lan and we’ll be the two heroes of yunmeng is the type of line u dont even need to know whats gonna happen to know thats gonna be sad

when they fight wen ruoshan at the nightless city i thought that was the battle we see at the first ep and its not and its so easy and theyre all like ‘yayy we won go wwx!’ i was just. SCREAMS WHAT is gonna HAPPEN

so like. post burial mounds/sunshot campaign pre yiling patriarch wwx is like. ultra arrogant, ultra mocking, peak lil shit and it gave me e v e r y t h i n g i wanted

even tho having the wen prisoners at the targets at phoenix mountain and still having wwx and jzx shooting the arrows was???? so.... tone deaf

wwx: fucking w demonic energy jyl: he has never done anything wrong in his life, ever <3 <3 (mood)

the parallels between meng yao/wei wuxian (and even xue yang a bit?) are Seen and they are Valid

wwx post burial mounds: can yall SHUT UP abt the goddamn sword (suibian left the chat)

LIKE truly, we talk abt the angst and yearning with wangxian. but what abt wwx and suibian. xianbian / xianqing angst and comfort 100k

take a shot everytime someone coughs up blood

zidian is simply the coolest spiritual weapon rip to suibian and chenqing and bichen and sendou and baixa........ but tis the truth

cons: everyones families died in a nightmare war! everyones homes burned to the ground! everyone is traumatized! pros: everyone gets cooler clothes and weapons!!

wen ning and a-yuan and yanli bestest babes squad dont touch me rn

everyone: brooding and fighting wq and jyl: why dont you try some acupunture/drinking some soup and calm down huh? how abt that bitch??

showing the battle/massacre at the nightless city first was genius actually bc then everytime we have a cute scene w yunmeng bros and theyre like 'we'll be together forever! uwu' youre like oh. oh no. oh no no no.

justice vs lawfulness vs means and ends 👁

jc: stay in the right path and practice the art of the sword wx: yeah thats not gonna happen chief

my reaction to wwx renouncing to the sect politics to help the wens was just that elmo burning gif in succession

the dramatic rain. wen qing desperately calling out to wen ning. the ghosts/puppets killing the guards. how terrifying wn actually was while wwx was controlling him :( lwj goeing after him to try and stop him and then he just; he Sees him and understands him even if he cant actually do anything about it other than let them go.

“there must be somewhere in this earth we can go to :(((((((((”

"IF I HAVE TO FIGHT THEM, I'D RATHER IT BE YOU. DYING BY YOUR HANDS WOULD AT LEAST BE WORTH IT." oh my god oh my god oh my goooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooddddddd

also lwjs umbrella is white w black smoke.. . . nice

yiling patriarch / demonic farming burial mounds settlement is like one of my favorite concepts. they an "EVIL" FARMING COMMUNITY LED BY THE VILLAGE WITCH COME ON

they planted TURNIPS and LOTUS FLOWERS and ONE (1) baby and made lanterns and a common hall :(((((((

wen qing and wei wuxian, baddest bitches and genius science best friends i absolutely LOVED to see it. they rly went ‘is anyone gonna sibling/project partner that’ and didnt wait for an answer

both wwx and jyl getting lotus ponds at the burial mounds and in lanling bc they miss lotus pier ;;;;;;;w

;;;;; wish jyl had actually gone into the burial mounds. we were robbed of jyl and wq meeting again and jyl meeting a-yuan and seeing the settlement and the homes and all ;w; at least jc did go, stab wounds and broken arms and all

wwx like... having thrown his whole life away to help the wens (yeah the sect leaders and jin guangshan in particular wanting his stygian tiger amulet was an Element but still) and not.... necessarily regretting it, but grappling with all of the consequences of it... becoming moody and drepressed at times, missing his family and lotus pier and his friends and probably simply missing being around people and causing trouble, extrovert that he is, lashing out at the wens and at a-yuan, just in general the whole messiness of that experience

the way the resentful energy does affect his temperament is rly nice bc its not too in your face,(i mean outside of the Shaky Hands of Rage) but like he clearly has a much lesser control on his anger and impulsivity (tall order) than both before bm and after hes ressurected

on that note A-YUAN BABIEST BABY BOY BEST BOY

lan zhan being like oh hey there wei ying fancy meeting u and our son here. just passing by u know how it is hmmmmMm and then PLOT TWIST having defied orders to go see him and being punished for it. oof;;

they habent seen each other in like? a year? and now theyre tgt 10 seconds and are already parenting a child together

also lwj rly kneels down in the snow way too much to be healthy

wwx: calm down guyssss i wont lose control of demonic cultivation omgggg . spoiler alert: he loses control of demonic cultivation

did u enjoy cute children? good bc now the Real Pain Begins

jiang yanli and jin zixuan rly out there APROPRIATING both disaster gays AND bury ur gays huh ;w;

i KNEW jin lings birthday was gonna fuck something up but the GASP that left my body when wwx lost control of wn and killed jin zixuan .. . .

im sorry and thank you aaaaAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaAAAAaAAAAA

when wen ning and wen qing were telling wwx their plan i was saying NO NO NO NO NO NO out loud in despair

also can we talk abt how wq is definetely talking about only the both of them surrending themselves but then? everyone else just surrenders w them? IT MAKES NO SENSE LIKE WHY WOULD THEY what would be the Point

sometimes there are some pretty gaping jumps in logic and continuity that are just like ? ?

wwx: oh so when you try to murder me its justified but when i survive through dark magic and murder all of you its a "war crime"

unsurprisingly, his most feral, most spiraling moment talking to the sect leaders on the roof and attacking them and even fighting lan zhan is among my favorite scenes... its like, so painful to watch but also so thrilling (and maybe my wen bbs dying arose some resentful energy in me what can i say)

and its JUST, all they ever wanted was to do good but then... war. and trauma. and hubris.

jiang cheng on the ground clearly thorn between what to do and feel is a Mood, lets just say

i was already crying when jyl showed up, but if i wasnt-

i suffered SO MUCH through this series trying to figure out WHY jc would kill wwx. and when i understood. its somehow not as bad as i thought and also MUCH MUCH WORSE

a look into my group chat during the last flashback episodes:

SO ANYWAY. after the BLOOD BATH and RIPPING YOUR HEART OUT and FEEDING IT TO YOU the untamed goes ‘ayy back to the present!! tu du dud ud du’

literally it ends a quarter into an episode and then KEEPS GOING i had to pause and stare blankly at the ceiling for an hour

babie cultivators and detective soulmates . i do need some cute after All of That

(not that the pain is over LOL)

lwj is significantly less emotionally repressed in the present and its delightful. hes just ALL IN with wwx. and not just in the ‘i would and have killed various men and risked my reputation for you’ but also ‘ur tired here have a drink i brought it up cause i know u like it and it want you to be happy, always’

“when everyone praised me and wanted my power, you were the only one that challenged me. now that everyone hates me and wants me dead, youre the only one that stands by my side.” hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

and just filling in the blanks how lan zhan searched for him. for all of those 16 years he searched for him and was punished for it and raised a-yuan, the only survivor of the burial mounds settlement, as his own in gusu......

and jiang cheng. being the tough love uncle . having raised the yunmeng jiang clan from the rubble all alone, his whole family dead, some of it on the blame of his own brother, his siblings, his closest friends gone.......and only jin ling there needing his guidance.

THE PARALLEL BETWEEN JIN LING BEING A LIFELINE FOR JIANG CHENG AND A-YUAN FOR LAN WANGJI AFTER THE BATTLE AT THE NIGHTLESS CITY

great now i made myself sad

and like . the fact! that lwj and jc dislike each other!!. jc projects blame onto him for wwx both “leaving” him and indirectly causing their families deaths and when hes so consumed by it he makes wwx an enemy, lwj is there now? trying to protect him?? and lwj, who can never understand the pain that wwx , indirectly or not put jc through, but who was right there when jc tried to kill him and will never allow him to hurt wwx again. and how they like. in a way project blame of their tragedies onto each other while dealing with some type of survivor guilt and in their own way still loving wwx through it all??? amd in way its kind of fundamentally selfish but also tragically understandable? and like when u put it against the fact that after he disappears during the sunshot campaign they were looking for him together and fought together??

JUST. THE CHARACTERS. AND THE RELATIONSHIPS IN THIS. MAN. UGH. GOD.

and like i think thats what makes it so good? its such a sad and painful and violent story, edgy even, but its compelling bc at the center of it there are all of these relationships and different types of love and hope and. :( i love it

enough crying lets talk abt wwx sleeping at the jingshi with lwj and wearing his under garment for a minute 🙏

jin ling just has that Was Raised by JC energy tho lmao i love him

babie cultivator squad is the perfect ammount of cute and comedic relief while still bearing the weight? of the narrative in a way, both from sizhui and jin lings existences, and also. like. how do i put this. they feel hopeful? they were born after a war, they came of age at a time of relative peace, they dont hold on so closely to the resentments of their parents/father figures, they are specifically shown as more accepting and open minded. and its like.... Hope for the future

one of the ?? things i love the most is the fact that the main cast are often in situations where theyre hunted/running but they like. never wear disguises... just going around in their gorgeous expensive clan clothes and hair ornaments and distinctive spiritual weapons.... maybe w a straw hat on, just for kicks

wwx teacher 🥺🥺🥺

so this is why its called Yi City Misery huh

a-qing is such. an icon. im so sad. my girl even knew to leave xys dumb self rotting by the road but no one listens to her thats why theyre all dead or sad

her and xue yang measuring each other up was so entertaining lmao

its the funniest thing when hes like. HERES MY SAD STORY. FOR WHY IM A SADISTIC MURDERER. I BROKE MY HAND ONCE.

like ok someone broke his hand in a horrible way, and like Poverty, i get it but also like.......... that lost the brunt of a proper sob story like, 50 sadistic murders ago bby

and i love that xingchen does not entertain that for a second hes like ‘not ?????? good enough???’ and the best thing is he wasnt even like 'u hadto be the bigger person' or sth but ' well then break that dudes hand back, rip his arm off for i care, what do the rest of us have to do w anything???”

anjo sensato :(

xue yang is like..... the sexy sadistic evil version of a himbo..... a meanbo...

the fucked upness of xy’s feelings for xxc/ xxc and sl feelings for each other... like my dude literally gave his bf HIS EYES. and xy getting so attached to xxc .... the fucked up fake domesticity.... having him hurt sl..... then desperately trying to bring him back ...................... oof

song lan........... literally had his eyes AND tongue removed, his bfs eyes put in place, was almost killed, turned into a puppet by his bf unknowingly, manipulated by xy, sees his bf killing himself in despair.... and STILL finds the strenght to get up from there, and keep on traveling and helping people and attempting to fix xxcs soul.......... like, my man. damn.

wangxian looking at songxiao and seeing an Actually more painful parallel for themselves. ft. that Color Coding.

THE A-YUAN/SIZHUI REVEAL PUNCHED ME IN THE HEART but in a good way for a change

should have know that he would be the Best Boy the cute one w all the braincells

the butterfly AND the bunny lantern. i see how it is

u know is very convenient that no one can see the stark black veins on wen nings neck, ever

BAT WEN NING

wns face when lwj comes into wwx room like ‘:0 omg did u two finally get your shit together? good for you master wei good for u’

(they didnt) (yet)

DISASTER DRUNK LWJ. JUST. THRUST SOME CHICKENS TO SHOW UR RESSURECTED BAE THAT U LOVE THEM.

i have absolutely no idea WHY they gave lwj the same punishment for fighting his own sect/allies to protect the burial mounds as when they got drunk on cloud recess class days.... like? its such a ... emotional continuity error again

also is lwj gonna get an actual friend besides wwx , ever

mianmian marrying and having a family and a cute life after saying FUCK U AND UR SYSTEM TOO in a much less unhinged and dramatic way than wwx......... fills me w joy

also lol the idea that like. her husband not knowing that shes friends w satan/the boogey man/the village witch is hilarious

i love nie mingjue bc hes the resident Though Guy but also the most dramatic bitch in this show and thats Saying Something

jin ling cant have one uneventful relative can he

the fact that everyone present already knew “mo xuanyu” was wwx at the stairs is so funny, their faces are like ‘oh............ wow. that. sure is a development. shock”

in the tradition of extremely loud whispers wwx tells lwj with twelve guards standing like one meter away from them: HEY PSH LAN ZHAN PRETEND IM FORCING YOU TO STAY W ME DO IT

oh my god oh my god

the absolute Yearning on his face when he leaves wwx and a-yuan at the burial mounds and refuses to stay for dinner was already Enough but the fact?? they brought it back?? to this declaration of love?? their expressions??????? strike me dead right now just go ahead

lFor Legal Reasons We Cant Kiss but we will have a very sappy declaration of love and trust and look at each other in way that is the actualization of 💞💘💗💖💓💘💞💗💖💘💗💖💕💞

also icb all the sect leaders and guards are standing there watching them say they like like each other with a dozen swords pointing at their neck

i enjoyed the depiction of the fickle public perception and how easily it can be used to scapegoat people. when the sect leaders turn on jgy and wwx knows thats its more for convenience than anything else...

poor lxc is literally like 'oh so when YOUR problematic boyfriend gets called evil its a misunderstanding but when its MY problematic bf-'

ok like i cant get over nmj let jgy play a song that messed with his temperament at all, like maN u KNEW he might be shady wth

wwx: “hey dont say anything bad abt lan zhan hes not an arrogant dick, thats just his face.

ME ON THE OTHER HAND"

the cultivators as wwx is poking holes in their narrative is literally *nazaré meme*

"wei wuxian-!" "what did i break your leg, too?" not to be problematic but i laughed so hard

not as hard as "you dont have the rank to talk to me " tho

i Enjoy that, over the course of story, wwx sees that... theres nothing truly to Do, but move on. he saw how his arrogance and his mistakes hurt others, and hes trying to fix what he can, but he already did die for his mistakes and there are things he cant fix and that's. just how it is. even towards jgy, the narrative doesn't go gleefully and completely with "lets make THEM pay bc theyre the big bad" bc its not that simple, and it wouldn't lead anywhere but more pain...

re him and jiang cheng and the wens and kinda. isnt that what nhs did? scheming to displace jgy out of revenge more than any justice and doing so in the most painful way?

idk if that actually makes sense im truly just babbling

i thought the scene at the lotus pond would be CUTE but the context was PAIN again

jiang cheng finding out about his golden core and his conflict with wwx at the guanyin temple .... destroyed me but in a nice way kinda.... same way it destroys him look at his face oh god

and. the fact??? he sacrificed himself for wwx?? first?? and he'll probably never tell anyone much less wwx???? keeps me up at night

i havent decided if the neckbreak transition between jgy does sth super Evil or does he he does OR Does He yes he does O R does heeeee is sth i dislike or not

jin guangyao and wei wuxians most interesting parallel is that... theyve both seen 'hmm hey this system is fucked up' and wwx went 'so fuck it all i will renounce it and challenge it' and jgy went 'so fuck it i will use all of it to my advantage and manipulate it to my goals and whims'

the fact jgys mom was actually great and he loved her and his whole issue w it was more than simply being ashamed of being a bastard kinda got me ngl

never trust a dude with a fan.

nhs and jgy: the first rule to a convoluted and decades spanning violent revenge plot is to have fun and be yourself!

when a-yuan finally FINALLY remembers ;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;-;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;; wen ning has someone in his family back and a-yuan has someone to talk abt his wen family and wwx has him back bc he survived and lwj raised him anD HES THEIR SON. THEYRE MARRIED AND HAVE A SON. UGH.

and theyre allowed to heal. everyone is allowed to try and recover and be happy

netflix put all of the 3 endings on top of each other and it looks kinda weird actually BUT I DONT EVEN MIND :’’’’’’’’’)

the gasp that left me when lwj says ‘wei ying’ and wwx turns.........

there was also a screen with ‘thank you mxtx for creating these characters, we hope their wishes come true’ and i might. have cried then too. maybe.

that was . a ride. as is proven by this behemot of a ramble clearly i just really needed and Outlet. i am currently trying to convince dumb monkey brain to not consume the other medias of mdzs immediately bc i REALLY need to like. live. a life. and take care of real responsibilities. *longest oh boi ever*

#m.#ANYWAY #ENOUGH TALKING #THIS IS SO LONG #LOL #but whatever this is MY performative journaling i do what i want #rambling impressions abt what i watch is a thing i do now? apparently??#cql #untamed #the untamed #fun fact that chat is named 'k keeps on babbling abt the untamed' and it STILL wasnt enough #also it took me 15 episodes to realize lwj was yibo #IT WAS V SHOCKING #i did not recognize him at a l l #but in retrospect he WAS the perfect choice

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archangeldraws · 3 years

Text

Reunion

Since some were so interested in the story of King Ghidorah and their human Eva, this is their story. Please, enjoy (also give me feedback as I don’t usually write stories ^^)

A King Ghidorah fanfiction

Dorat AU

„Wake up. Come on Ni, wake up boy. Time for walkies!“ A soft voice rings through the air, tickling Ni's ear. The Dorat stirs, sleepily opening one eye and looking around the living room. “Come on Ni-Ni! Don't you want to go outside?” His gaze falls upon a young human girl, standing by the door, hastily putting on her shoes and leashes on two other Dorats like him. His brothers watch him, waiting for him to move. Ni yawns, stretching his golden wings and climbs off the comfortable couch he was sleeping on, trotting over to his master.

She smiles, putting a red collar and leash on the third Dorat, giving him a pet on his fluffy head. “Good boy. Lets go!”

It's a sunny day today, the air is crisp and fresh. It's spring! Eva, their little master, loves this season the most. And they love seeing her happy.

The walk is the same as always. Passing by the same houses, going down the same streets, towards the park.

The park is great. It's big, big enough to stretch their wings and fly around all they want and play.

San, the youngest Dorat loves visiting the park. He's always so eager, flapping up and down, back and forth, almost crashing into his brothers and trilling happily.

Unlike their older brother Ichi, who glides gracefully through the air, looking down on all the passerby.

At the park, Eva lets her Dorats fly free and unzips her backpack, pulling out their toys, a blanket and some drinks and snacks.

Everything is great. They play, enjoy the sunshine and food. Master brought those fish crackers they like.

Ni is chasing another Dorat, a brown one, around the park. That one dared to take a toy! That thief! That one will pay!

A shriek pierces the air, disrupting the chase. Perplexed, Ni looks back. Master?

He watches in horror as a dog, a filthy beast, is attacking Eva. That thing dares to harm HIS MASTER?!

In a rage Ni races towards that monster, flying as fast as he can, not stopping for a second. He doesn't even notice Ichi and San also trying to get in between the girl and the dog.

Ni crashes into the foul beast, bearing his teeth and snarling. The thing yelps, rolling on the ground after the collision. The Dorat, though a bit smaller than the wild dog, put himself between the animal and the girl.

San and Ichi stay with Eva, hissing and screeching angrily, not moving from her side as she weeps and cries in pain, a puddle of blood already forming around her leg on the ground.

Ni growls, daring the dog to move. Do it! Come on! I'll tear you limp from limp!

Not that the dog would have understood it anyway.

In a flash the animal was upon Ni, biting and snapping at him. But Ni isn't afraid. All he sees is red. He bites and claws at it, chomping down on the beasts neck and shaking violently. Ni himself gets thrown around, bitten and scratched. It doesn't matter. He doesn't even feel it. Ni snaps at the soft neck of his opponent, biting and shaking him over and over. The dog screams, letting go of the smaller Dorat and jumps back. In a defiant stance, Ni stays between it and the girl. He growls. And finally his enemy yields and runs.

“NI! OH MY GOD! NIII!! NO!”

Ni turns, Eva approaches him with a limp and she wraps her arms around him.

“Ni! You're hurt! Oh my god, your ear! Your eye!”

A few hours later, Ni wakes up again. Was it a dream? He is in his bed, but something is blocking his view. Why can't he open his left eye? What is that thing?

“Be still, brother. Don't move. You need to heal.” Who is that? Oh, right. It's Ichi. Ichi looks down from his spot at the wall. He likes sitting there. San comes rushing to Ni's side, gently grooming him in a comforting manner. “Are you ok? That fight was really bad! You were lucky you didn't lose your eye, Ni!”

Fight? Oh, yes. Right. That dog. But, what about Eva? Is she ok? Ni looks around the bedroom, trying to see past that weird, round thing around his head. There she is. On the bed. “Ni. You're awake? I'm so glad you're ok!” She smiles, walking towards him and petting him, carefully stroking his back fur.

“The vet said you were really lucky! That dog almost got your eye with it's teeth. But your ear wasn't as lucky, half of it is missing.... Oh Ni, you were so brave! Thank you! I was so scared!”

She quivers, wiping off the tears from her soft, round face.

“You're my hero!”

Ni, not wanting to see her cry leans into her small hand and purrs reassuringly.

“You were hurt.” “It's ok, my leg is better now. Don't worry, everything is ok now. See?” She grins, showing hims her bandaged leg. “Rest now. You'll get a big treat later, ok? You're a good boy, Ni. I love you”

I love you

I love you....

Ni groans, opening his eyes and stretching his long, powerful neck. Groggily he looks around, spotting his brothers by his side. They've curled up around each other, still sleeping.

As always. Ni, first one to wake up and last one to fall asleep. He hates sleeping. Not sure when it started, but it's been a long time. Sleep brings dreams, memories he'd rather not see.

And now he has to wait for Ichi and San to wake. He sighs, keeping look out. Ni isn't known for being the patient one, but he can be. Not that he has much of a choice. It's not like he could just, get up and walk around. Not anymore. He could wake Ichi. A good bunt in the head would do. But that would also mean getting bit in the snout and right now he wasn't in the mood for a fight. Usually, yeah. But not right now.

His mood was too sour for that.

“Good morning Ni!” San has risen from his slumber and yawns, stretching and rubbing his head against his big brother in a greeting. “Did you sleep well?” Ni sighs. “Same as usual. You?” “Uhm.... I guess so. Got enough sleep at least.”

Ni wasn't the only one plagued by bad memories. San's weren't just memories. They were nightmares. Nightmares that had happened.

Sometimes the youngest brother would wake up screaming and thrashing during the night, begging to be “let out” and biting if you came too close. Ichi and Ni would have to subdue him together, just until the left head would calm down again.

Poor guy had been through a lot. They all have been. But it seems fate has been more cruel to the younger one. He had lost his head, quite literally, many times. Each time he lost more and more of his happy go lucky attitude, if only slowly.

But since that fat lizard had ripped him off last.... They know the memories. They weren't there, but San shared what had happened to him with them, after they reformed that last time.

Last time.... Was the worst. Things are a bit confusing, since they regenerated from a dead head, from a brain that had been dead for some time. They knew their old version had fought on, but their memories stopped after San's death, only to resurface once the humans did something to his brain, feeding him with the energy needed to come back to life.

They know of the pain and fear San had endured, being nothing but a thought in his own mind. Again. Again humans tried to control them, their minds, making them their toys!

But San didn't share everything with them, that they knew... Or they would know of the things he dreamed about and woke from, screaming for help.

They also heard what had happened to their old self. That that one was completely destroyed by the “King” of the monsters, with the help of his Queen.

It is weird to know that you did something, without being there yourself... Never before have they been.... two Ghidorahs. Can they even call it that? Are they themselves even real? Or just a copy?

They know each time a head dies, it grows back with all it's memories. But there had never been a time where.... They had to regenerate their whole being. Until now....

Ichi wakes, shifting and yawning before looking at San and Ni.

“How long have you two been awake?” “Oh hey Ichi, good morning. Not long yet. How was your night?” San smiles at the middle head, greeting him like he greeted Ni with a head rub.

“Luckily, uneventful. Full night rests have become rare” “Yeah.... sorry about that.” “Don't be, San. It's not your fault... Well, now that we're up, let's get out of here. I need some fresh air.”

With that, Ghidorah rose to their feet and walked out of the cave they had carved themselves some time ago. After they had regenerated, they had traveled the world for a while, not knowing what to do with themselves. They were thinking of going after Godzilla again, but..... They were just tired. So they made themselves a small home, if you could call it that, on monster island. They had made an agreement with Godzilla. While they would never yield and submit to him, they promised to stay out of his way and leave the humans alone. As long as they didn't destroy anything, they could be at piece.

Or at least by left alone. And the other Titans did leave them alone.

Wherever they went, the other Kaiju would run and hide. No one dared to try and talk with them.

Except for Godzilla, who would sometimes pass by and check if they still hold their part of the deal.

Sometimes Rodan would come and try to talk with them. That firebird is a huge chatterbox.

Right now Ghidorah made their way down the mountain they had made their cave in, living high above the others, where they had a good view over the island.

“Brothers, look there. A boat” Ni and Ichi look towards the sea, where San was pointing at. “Ugh, humans.... Those pests. They better not think about stepping on this island!” “Calm down brother. What do we care what they do? As long as they leave us alone, I don't give a crap.” Ichi snorts, moving their body down and to the other side of the mountain.

They walk towards a lake and San has a little drink. They don't really NEED to drink and eat, but it's a nice treat and it gives them something to do. One of the few things they can still enjoy, since destroying and conquering is now off the table. At least for now.

Ni looks at his reflection. It's him. But it's also not.

Gone is the round face and the big eyes, gone is the little snout and ears. Gone is the fur on his head and back.

Instead there is a long, strong snout, filled with rows of sharp teeth. His eyes are beady and red and his head adorned with jagged horns, sharp and deadly. Everything on them is sharp and deadly.

But the scar is still there.

He remembers, like in his dream. The scar that made him unique, a hero in that little girl's eyes.

But she's gone now, long dead.

Why is the scar still there? They can heal. And it was gone. But he made it again. For some reason, even though he wants to forget.... He scars himself over and over again, each time it heals, he takes one of their spiked tails to his face and draws blood. He's done it many time, he knows exactly where to cut, how to cut it. Each time a perfect copy.

And his horn. The second horn on the left, he always breaks it off. Where half his ear used to be.

Ichi keeps a look out, watching the smaller kaiju hiding in the shadows of the trees, waiting for them to leave and have a drink.

As they should. Useless lot, they are beneath them. Look at them quivering, shaken to their very core by their fear, Ghidorah's presence almost crushing them like little worms.

Ichi has always enjoyed looking down on others. Since he was a cup, he'd find the highest places and sit there, watching the others. He's always been more cruel than his brothers, that's just who he is. Not that he doesn't know how to be compassionate. He loves his brothers.

Sure, he reprimands them often, especially Ni, as he likes to act up and square off with Ichi.

But he still cares. And he'd do anything to protect them.

Once he cared for someone else. A little someone, though bigger than them at the time, but so small and fragile.

Somehow she made him want to protect her. To love her. And he did. He loved and protected and cared and vowed to stay forever-.... Until forever was over.

Gone were the good days, the days filled with happiness and love and care. Replaced with fear and pain and numbness instead.

They were like her. But they were not like her. Not soft and sweet and loving and warm. No high voices carrying nothing but goodness to his ear but instead, cries and screams and yells of malice and horror and the stench of rotting flesh and dry blood.

Their new “masters” were nothing like her. They never gave them the feeling of being safe. Only fear. Only pain. Only rage!

And then.... Nothing. Sleep without dreams, dreams without sleeping. Moving but unmoving.

Pain but no feeling.

And then they woke up. They woke at a cold place, nothing but ice and piercing cold and blinding white. No humans in sight. No... Her..... Alone. They were alone. And they were one.

They knew they were, have been for long. But now that they were awake, it was strange. Having to learn how to move again.

And the urge.... The urge to.... kill... destroy.... It was ebbed into their mind so deep, into their very core.... All they could think about was “Find Godilla. Kill him. Destroy him. Kill. Destroy. Kill. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy destroy destroy destroydestroydestroyde-....”

The thought was still there, once jackhammering in their head, now a soft drumming... They had found Godzilla. But that one was not the same they knew now. That one fought long and hard, made them weak and trapped them in the ice, where they had awoken the first time. And they slept.

And now.... The same thing. They found Godzilla, a different one, fought and lost again. Were killed this time and somehow they came back.

You'd think knowing that you were able to cheat death like this would make you stronger, would make you want to try again.... And maybe they will, one day. But now they're just tired....

“Hello?.... Are you there?” They look up. “Yes? What is it?” San looks to Ichi. “I didn't call you.” They look at Ni. “Wasn't me” “Can you hear me?”

Confused they look around. Was it one of them? One of the small ones hiding in the shadows?

“What do you want?” Ichi growls at the trees and the little kaiju skitter away quickly.

“It's me. I'm here.”

“Who the fuck is calling us?! Who is it?” They stand and Ni snarls and snaps at nothing.

“Come to me. I'm here. Are you there?”

“What the fuck?” Ichi grows more and more irritated, looking around but seeing no one.

“Come find me. Were you waiting?”

“Ichi.... I think it's coming from there.” San points back at the ocean again. Is it a water Titan? Manda perhaps?

“I swear if that snake is out making a fool of us then we'll have it for breakfast!”

“Good idea Ichi, sound delicious!”

They follow the voice, down to the shore. They don't see Manda, but the human boat is still there.

“Ohoh, it's the humans! It must be them. Of course. Why am I not surprised?”

“Wouldn't be the first time, Ni.” “Should we kill them?” “We can't, Godzilla-” “I know San, I know! But he never said we can't defend ourselves. If they try to attack us, it's free game!”

“My sweets....” They freeze. What did they just call them? No one ever called them that but-... No. No, she's gone.

“Can't you hear me? Please answer me. Remember our promise? I promised I'd come find you”

No... No, no no no, no! It's not true! This is a trick! They are tricking us!

San leans closer, looking down at the boat and the humans on board.

“Ichi... Ni... San.... Do you remember me?”

They stare. They stare at the human woman with the dark hair and eyes. The eyes they know, the eyes they only see in their dreams.

“It's her!” Sam rears ups, shocked and confused. It's her. She's back! She's come!

“Ichi, Ni, it's her! It's her! Master!” “NO! Get a grip San, it isn't!” Ichi roars, staring down at San. “This is a trick, clearly!”

“But-”

Ichi doesn't believe, doesn't trust. Ni wants to believe, wants to trust. San believes, San trusts.

San bends down again, trying to reach the boat, he needs to see her, smell her, touch her. “Master!”

“NO!” Ichi snaps, he grabs San by the scruff of his neck and pulls him away. They stagger, their body, twitching. The heads fight.

Middle tries to dominate left, biting and power grooming him into submission. Usually San would yield, but not this time. He rises, roaring at his brother in fury.

“STOP IT ICHI! It is her, I know it!”

“IT CAN'T BE SAN, SHE IS DEAD!” They are torn apart, feeling an array of feelings.

Yes! No! Want! Don't! Believe! Fear! Trust! Rage! Can't be! It is!

“STOP!!”

They stop. Ichi and San look at Ni. He glares at them. Is this what happens when they see a glint of what had been? It tears them apart just like this? How weak have they become, how low have they fallen?

“Brothers.... Please.... Who else could talk with us like that?” San pleads at Ichi and Ni, lowering his head. His eyes displaying nothing but sadness.

“Our connection is still there... After all this time, all those years our link is still strong. Who else but her could speak with us? Who else knows the names she gave us?”

All three heads turn to look back at the boat. The humans, pointing their weak little weapons at them, stare, waiting for them to move.

Except the woman. She stands at the railing, tears in her eyes, her face contorted as if in pain.

“Please, don't fight... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. I couldn't protect you. I promised you, remember? That I would find you, no matter what. I said I would come. And I am here now, my sweets.... Please forgive me....”

She cries. No humans ever cried for them but....

“Eva...?”

Her head snaps back up so fast, you could almost hear it crack. Ghidorah leans down towards the boat, all three heads until their noses almost touch it.

They look at her. The face, the scar of the dog bite on her leg. The way she smiles. They smell her.

Like spring. She smells like spring. Like her favorite season. And fish crackers. She reaches out, placing her soft, small hand on Ichi's snout and smiles that smile that sings of love and happy memories.

“I'm sorry.... Did you wait long?”

#King Ghidorah #King Ghidorah fanfiction #Dorat #Dorat AU #King Ghidorat #King Ghidorah Dorat AU #Human OC #King Ghidorah and Eva #My headcanon #King Ghidorah backstory #King Ghidorah backstory Dorat AU #Fluff #Angst

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nyxdelanuit · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday, My Human (Mammon x Reader)

Happy Birthday @beatific-drabbles, I adore you Sunspot!

You had been looking forward to your birthday in the Devildom. With how big all the celebrations you had attended had been, you were sure that you'd at least get a little party with the brothers. You had even dressed up! But every time you had seen one of them, Mammon had come to pull them away for 'urgent business.' The only business you had seen Mammon actively take part in where his schemes, and you had hoped he'd lay off for at least today.

It even extended to R.A.D.; Luke had barely deposited a cupcake into your hands before Mammon was chasing him off. You hadn't even seen Simeon all day, and Soloman simply wished you a happy birthday as Mammon pushed him out of the room. In an effort to not disrupt the school day, you ignored it until your walk home, oddly enough only escorted by Mammon.

"So, is there a reason you're trying to sabotage my birthday, or had you just not thought of that?" You kept your voice level, trying to keep the emotion out of it. Mammon flinched beside you.

“Why would ya think I’d do that? The Great Mammon has better things to do than fuss over some silly human’s birthday.” The fidgeting was a sure tell, and you could feel your annoyance building.

"Well, if you can't be bothered with my birthday, at least let me celebrate it with your brothers. I'm sure Beel would love to split some cake with me." It was blatant taunting, but Mammon took the bait easily.

"No!! Just… I can't have them showing the Great Mammon up, ya know? So I have ta make sure that my present is the best one you get today!" You huffed, your indignation at his terrible plan almost palpable. Then you spot the blush falling over his face, and your heart softened.

"Mammon, you know I'm going to love whatever you give me. I'm sure it will be the best anyways. After all, you're my first man, right?" That seemed to give him an out, letting loose a cheer.

“Damn right! And as your first man, I’m responsible for making sure your birthday is the best, and I can’t trust those guys to do right by my human. That’s why I made sure they didn’t have a chance to mess it up.” You could almost see him preening his ego as he talked, pulling forth a giggle from your lips.

"Why ya laughing at me! Hey, answer me, human!!"

Mammon continued to chase away his brothers once the two of you got home, but kept close to you this time. The heat was building in your face every time he pulled you from a conversation, his hand lingering on your hip to keep you close. Unfortunately for Mammon, he couldn’t find a reason to keep you away from dinner, sulkily watching as Beel and Belphie presented you with a birthday dinner, and Asmo draping a sash around your shoulders and placing a tiara on your head with a wink.

Beel and Belphie had left the room to fetch… something… but Mammon had drug you out of the dining room before you could see what they had. He led you so far from the other brothers that the house seemed empty before you. With stuttering steps, Mammon opened the door to the planetarium, ushering you in.

He had lit the whole room with candles, just dim enough to let the projections on the ceiling sparkle. In the middle of the room sat a bunch of blankets and pillows, littered with poorly wrapped presents. Mammon scrambled into the middle, reaching out his hand to help you down without looking at you. The dim light tried to hide his blush, but you were close enough to follow the shade with your eyes.

One by one, he handed you the presents, ranging anywhere from things you had thought you lost to a golden pen, engraved with ‘Mammon’s Human.’

“So even if I’m not with you at R.A.D., no one will mess with you.” He explained, not giving a reason for why it was cast in such a precious metal. When you had put all the presents to the side, Mammon reached behind him and pulled out a cake.

“I had it special ordered from the human realm, the flavor you told me a while back… so don’t say I never did anything for ya.” He huffed, placing the cake between you. Instead of cutting it into pieces, he handed you a fork, one already in his hands.

You had wondered if Mammon knew that spending time talking about the most random things had been your favorite pastime in the Devildom, as the two of you ate cake and watched the projections drift and change. You talked about everything Mammon would allow, along with some teasing jokes, instantly placating Mammon with "but you're still my first man," or "The Great Mammon."

You were full up on cake and his company, content, and relaxed against the pillows.

"I have one more present for you." It was so quiet, you thought you had imagined it, but Mammon shifted to face you. You sat up, knees touching his, and for once, he didn't shy away from the contact. His eyes drifted to your chest, where his mark sat daintily under your collarbone. With a sigh, he ran a finger over the top.

"You got my mark on ya, so…" He rummaged in his pockets, bringing out a delicate necklace. "I thought it's only fair if you get to have a mark on me. It's a great honor, ya know, marking the Great Mammon as yours…" his words, usually filled with bluster and ego, were soft and unsure. He placed the fragile pendant in your hands, careful to touch only the chain. "Just press it to wherever you want your mark. Just not my face; that's the moneymaker." He laughed breathlessly.

You looked at the intricate knots in the pendant and Mammon, who slipped into his demon form to allow you more skin. With shaking hands, you lean in, but Mammon catches your hands.

“Wait… if you do this, you’re mine.”

“I know Mammon, I’m your human.” You chuckle, a bit flustered at the closeness.

“No, like, you’re mine, and I’m yours. Like c-courting.” It was Mammon’s turn to be flustered, fighting the urge to turn away from your sight. Your heart melted at his nervousness, you could see in his eyes that he expected you to get up and leave. That he was questioning if he was worth being with you. Maybe he had been worried all day that one of his brothers would try to do this with you first?

He didn't need to worry, though. After all, he was your first man. Your empty hand braced yourself against his chest, allowing you to gracefully glide your lips upon his. With Mammon distracted, you slipped under what little coat he had, pressing the pendant in between the bold white lines above his heart. Right where your mark was.

Mammon pulled back, an astonished look on his face. “But, no one will be able to see it there.” He gasped.

“You’re the only one who needs to see it. You and me.”

“But what about the other demons? Don’t you want people to know that you got the Great Mammon?” You hummed a bit, thinking it over.

"I do have you, though, and you sure make it obvious you have me anyways. I trust you, Mammon. I don't need people to see my mark on you to trust you." His eyes watered as he looked down at his chest, ripping off his jacket to trace the soft lines branded into his skin. As his fingers traced his new mark, you slipped the necklace onto your head, tucking it safely into your shirt, right next to Mammon's mark.

"So, this is real? You picked me?" Mammon let his tears dropped as he smiled at you, dazed.

“I picked you first then, I pick you first now, and I’ll pick you first forever.” You giggled as he scooped you up, falling back into the pillows.

The rest of the night was a flurry of giggles and Mammon kissing you, just cause he could. Each time he would pull away, looking at you like you were a dream, before ducking back to your lips.

#mammon x reader #obey me x reader #mammon x mc #obey me x mc #Nyx writes #sunspot

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headtothecoast · 4 years

Text

jaskier as a standup comedian. hear me out

i considered having geralt be an audience member who he gets to laugh, front row, yen made him go with her, doesn’t laugh at the whole set until jaskier picks yen for the audience part, says something and geralt just looses it. so of course jaskier seeks him out after the set by going to the bar and just plain hoping and they do go home together and it’s fantastic

but also consider, geralt is some professional something or other, maybe an actor who only does scary/professional roles and sometimes gets a bad rap because he doesn’t always get on well with other actors (he doesn’t agree with business practices of treating crew members poorly, offers to help crew set stuff up, helps out when animals are on set that kind of thing but also like, if his coworker or producer or director is sexist he will e n d y o u so some actors don’t like him because he protects women cast mates and just generally isn’t a prick) and also doesn’t interview well. he’s gruff and doesn’t actually like the limelight but his agent (and exwife) yen talked him into it and it’s a good paycheck for their daughter and sometimes he does like the movies he works on (after all, he did some work with these guys eskel lambert and vesemir and they ended up being like brothers and a father who taught him stuff about the business) anyway i digress. geralt is a stonefaced actor who is always cast as an assassin or something or a hunter or a butcher and he doesn’t always appreciate that

so jaskier is a comedian and geralt doesn’t care if jaskier tells jokes about him (and yes some of his comedy is musical/he writes songs on the side) but similar to john mulaney, none of jaskiers jokes about geralt are mean. like, none of them are even a little bit like toeing the line. geralt makes a point not to watch jaskiers comedy because he really doesn’t want to know what his boyfriend/fiancé says about him onstage even if it’s an act so geralt doesn’t realize that audience think he is the sweetest and kindest person ever while jaskier is just a f e r a l c h a o t i c d u m b a s s and geralt must be a saint for putting up with him. and sometimes jaskier cries on stage while talking about geralt adopting roach after a shoot and how sweet he is but like the point of the story was that he accidentally set the barn on fire so audiences are astounded that the man is even alive by the end of the shows.

but so geralt is doing press for a movie and it’s no secret that he and jaskier are dating, tho it might not be public knowledge they’re engaged and a late night host brings up jaskiers stand-up and geralt says something about how he too would make fun of himself on stage, idk something self deprecating about what he thinks jaskier would complain about (stoic, scary looking, disruptive in bars sticking up for people, easily recognized everywhere because of the hair, temper) and the host shows him a clip of jaskiers recent tour where he’s standing on stage saying stuff like “yes i’m aware they cast him as a murderer” or something “but once you see him braid ciri (also actress but out of the business because of legal battle with producer who tried something when she was a child actress and has a restraining order against not geralt but yen)‘s hair while humming the golden girls intro you just don’t see it anymore. like it’s impossible for him to scare me because i know his secret, he eats cereal out of the box just like the rest of us and sometimes he lets me have the toy except for the one time i-“ and sure geralt has maybe noticed some people like hosts and coworkers being nicer to him and fans approached him a little more now but he hadn’t realized jaskier didn’t make him the butt of the joke. so he says as much, gruffly but endearing to the audience that he only saw stuff from before they were together because he wouldn’t begrudge him needing an audience to vent to, or something. and so the interviewer keeps asking him about jaskier and geralt just goes all soft on tv.

and of course jaskier watches all of his interviews and when he sees that one he tears up because he didn’t realize geralt thought he made fun of him on stage. he heard his voice sometimes on the tv or geralts phone but he hadn’t put together it was only his older comedy and jaskier breaks a little when he talks to geralt about it. jaskier asks why he would agree to a partner who he thought made fun of him in front of thousands of people and geralt says he never did it to his face, or seemed unhappy so what’s the problem?

and to fix that jaskier writes a new set that is scathing about hollywood. he makes jokes about actors and actresses who were mean to geralt or producers and directors who asked him to do things he didn’t want to or take advantage of actresses. netflix approaches him to film the special and he writes an intro song about geralt that leads into it and jaskier rants about men in bars that geralt stand up to even if the women he helps don’t appreciate it because they’re drunk and scared of him. or when they get called f*gs in target grocery shopping and other awful things and jaskier is just feral and angry on stage and it’s absolutely ruthless comedy. he kills it.

so when it comes time to do press for the show, he fires his agent and gets geralt to do press with him. and almost immediately people like geralt. seeing someone so bestotted and amused where he had only ever been cast as cold and angry gave him an overnight following. jaskier made him approachable, or at least showed others he had always been safe to approach. and so with chaotic feral jaskier snapping witty remarks back and forth with talk show hosts geralt would sit with a slight smile, a bark of laughter and occasionally a sardonic or sarcastic line that would earn him a blinding smile from jaskier and audiences went wild for it. and geralt just sits there and appreciates this man who singlehandedly turned his career around and went after hollywood for him.

so maybe geralt gets cast in kinder roles and maybe jaskier posts little things on his instagram of geralt crying while watching the movie spirit or drunkenly telling roach he loves her. and when they get engaged or people accidentally find out they’re engaged jaskier couldn’t be happier because the whole damn world knows geralt is his and it doesn’t matter if he tanks a comedy career because he would burn hollywood to ash for this man.

anyway thank you for coming to my TEDtalk if someone wants to write this tag me!

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier #geralt of rivia #the witcher #yennifer #cirilla of cintra #comedian!jaskier #actor!geralt

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babybakuu · 4 years

Text

the warmth from you

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, VERY slight nsfw

Word count: 1514

A/N: it’s 5 in the morning and im soft for blasty boy + @katsukisass told me i should attempt fluff so here i am!! lemme know what yall think since i usually never write stuff like this w/o a hint of angst, thanks!!!

“Katsuki, isn’t it pretty today?” You’re walking outside with your arms spread wide open, embracing as much light and warmth that radiates from the sky as you can. Your eyes are closed, face tilted up, and he has to agree. It was a nice change of pace from the non-stop snowfall for the past couple of days but instead of saying that, he just grunts in response.

The air still has a hint of frostbite in it and he can easily tell by your red nose and pink dusted cheeks. A small sigh slips past his lips. He always hated the cold and nothing can change that, or so he thinks as he buries the lower half of his face into his scarf- his piercing red eyes are softer than usual and they never leave your face. He couldn’t bear the thought of tearing them away and missing the scene in front of him. Would it be creepy if he snapped a photo of you? Or should he just engrave the image in his mind, lock it in a box along with his feelings, and shove it deep down in his soul like he always did? It was a little scary though, that box was starting to fill up faster than he anticipated.

You stand like that for a minute, arms raised, face tilted towards the sun with your eyes shut, and for that minute he’s in awe. “Come join me.” You say, breaking him out of his trance.

“No, you look like an idiot.” But in reality, how could he disrupt something so beautiful? It would be a crime. Your skin is glistening in the golden sun and when that heartwarming smile of yours rises to your lips- he feels warm. Who needed the sun when he had you?

“But it feels good! Come on, I know you hate the cold!” Your fingers intertwine with his as you drag him over to the spot where the sun kissed the earth so gently, he was semi-anticipating an angel would appear any minute. But it got him thinking- did you set this up? It was the perfect confession spot, the perfect atmosphere, and you were perfect too. Or were you so dense to the point you didn’t realize how pretty you looked? How could you not notice how the sun kissed your skin ever so gracefully? Or how your hair fluttered with the wind and how your eyes twinkled?

But realization hits him. It’s you so of course you didn’t notice. You were as dense as Kaminari sometimes.

He mentally rolls his eyes and comes to the conclusion you were probably a princess in a past life. Maybe a model? A siren? A fucking fairy? Fuck, he didn’t know but he sure knew you were pretty. His eyes are on your intertwined fingers now. You probably did that on purpose too. You probably knew the feeling of your skin pressed against his would drive him wild and you probably knew it would leave him wanting more. How oblivious could you be?

You’re giggling as you turn him around to face the sun, your fingers are no longer filling the empty spaces in his hand, and you’re holding his arms up, replicating the same pose you were doing not too long ago. But your giggles seem to have him stunned for a moment- maybe you really were a siren, what human’s voice could be so sweet? He reminds himself to breathe after the sound of your laugh and when he snaps back to reality he can’t help but feel like this was a shitty reenactment of Titanic.

“This is kind of like that scene during Titanic!” You exclaim, he scoffs. “But I don’t know if we’re really doing this right..” You always seemed to know what was on his mind. A chuckle leaves his lips when he catches the look of contemplation on your face from the corner of his eye. It’s low and it reminds you of honey the way it drips with sweetness and a hint of warmth. “Ok! Back to business!” You shush him. “Close your eyes and relax.”

“Idiot.” He tsks but he does it anyways. Did you know the power you had over him? Did you know he would do anything for you? He’s standing there now- looking like a dumbass with his outstretched arms giving the sun an imaginary hug- his eyes still shut. But he can only imagine you standing next to him doing the same thing, with the same smile that turned his heart into pure goo. And as if he’s a kid in a candy store, he’s no longer able to hold back the urge to take a peak in your direction and he cracks an eye open. His heart melts at the sight- there you are just as he imagined but ten times more beautiful.

Fuck.

He was so weak for you and you didn’t even know.

The sun melts the coldness off of your face and you let out a small moan. His heart instantly skips a beat. Could he make you sound like that too? Could he make you moan into the late night or did he prefer you screaming his name? What if he-

“This is so great!” You squeal, cutting off his train of thought and suddenly- jealousy shoots to his heart. How dare the fucking sun take his job? How dare it engulf your whole body in warmth? How dare it kiss your skin and how dare it dance along your lips? He’s scowling now. The idea of being jealous of the damn sun is just so fucking dumb- he pushes it to the back of his mind, but there you are smiling up at it like you’re so happy, he lets the bitterness simmer. “Fuck the sun.” He mutters under his breath.

“Did you say something?” Your eyes open and you send him a smile that could melt the glaciers and make the sun jealous of him for once. Your arms lower.

“No.”

Your eyes are doing that twinkling thing again and it reminds him of warm pools of honey or when he would curl up in his mother’s arms during one of those frightening storms when he was younger. You made his heart swell, his brain turn into mush, and you reminded him of home. His heart skips a beat.

A cold wind hits and you’re left shivering while he’s standing there hands shoved in his pockets. He’s suddenly not cold anymore but he knows it’s just because you’re here standing next to him- radiating brighter and warmer than anything or anyone else could ever. “It kind of sucks that it's still cold though huh?” You ask, a pout forming on your lips.

“I can fix that.” He replies without thinking. What had gotten into him?

Oh right, you were next to him.

He cups your face, his hands transferring warmth straight into your cheeks but in an instant your face is burning red and you’re no longer cold either. “T-thanks Katsuki.” You choke out. “But the sun is warming me up just fine.” He’s frowning now and you’re attempting to read his expression but you can’t think. How could you when he was looking at you like that? He’s standing there, staring down at you with those half lidded eyes that burned into yours and made your stomachs do backflips. This time, you take a mental picture and lock it away in the box inside of your soul. He didn’t need to know that maybe, just maybe, you were head over heels in love with him too. A minute passes and the expression on his face suddenly goes from annoyed, to content, to..hesitant? What was going through that mind of his?

“Fuck the shitty sun.” He says. Your eyebrows furrow and before you could even open your mouth to ask him what he was talking about- his lips are on yours.

Momentarily, he forgets how bitter he was at the bright star in the sky, since you taste just like the hot cocoa he specifically told you not to drink this morning. It was sweet, but mixed with the taste of you? It was even sweeter. But when your mouth opens and your lips are in sync with his he doesn’t care that you started your day off with a cup of diabetes despite him telling you not to. Instead, he feels the box filled with his emotions and mental images of you that he swore he locked away, slip to the surface and open. But once again, he doesn’t care. He cares about the way your tongue slides against his, the way you’re tiptoeing into the kiss, and the way your head tilts- giving him even more access to your mouth.

He’s practically in heaven.

He reluctantly pulls away after a minute or two breaking for air and you’re both attempting to catch your breath. “Warm enough?” He questions and your cheeks are burning a bright red as you smile up at him.

“Yeah, I’m warm.”

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader fluff #bnha #mha #bnha fluff #mha fluff #boku no hero #my hero academia #fluff fluff fluff #good morning my dudes #my dog woke me up bc she got surgerY aND THIS LIL FUCKER TOOK OFF HER CONE!!!!#i should tape the cone on her cone head ass

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jengajives · 3 years

Text

Did a collection of defining moments for my Tolkien OCs a while ago and finally decided to post it. Got eight or nine different characters here depending on how you count.

When Agzil gasped, it brought nothing but a cold ash into his lungs. His limbs trembled. Even on all fours, they nearly didn’t have the strength to support him. An elbow buckled and he fell to a forearm instead, forehead hitting the dusty ground, flooding his eyes, nose, and mouth, with the same thick, grey soot that covered everything here. “You talk back again, maggot, and the Lieutenant won’t be so friendly!” The orc captain had a strong Lugburz accent. She was from here- the land of endless burning and choking and death. Made Agzil’s head spin. He obviously had done something wrong in his non-reaction, though, because the whip cracked across his back again with a blinding white-hot agony that dropped him flat to the earth. “Enough!” he heard Mirci crying, so distant he almost didn’t comprehend the words. “You’ve taught him your lesson, now leave him!” “You keep out of this, tinkerer!” Agzil breathed a lungful of soot so foul it made his lungs spasm. He coughed into the ground, and slowly raised himself to his forearms again. He could go no further. “You keep sticking out your neck for Gundabad trash, one day it’s going to get sliced!” the captain roared in the background. “Master may like your big metal beasts, but they done us no good! Done disrupted our ranks, made us look like fools- don’t you know we’re at war?!” When a voice spoke out from behind them all, somehow Agzil instantly knew it was not the voice of an orc. The Dark Master had Men in his armies, too, but as far as Agzil knew, Men didn’t speak the Black Tongue, and this newcomer used it with a natural and melodic lilt. Agzil wished he knew Black Speech. The captain barked something back in the same tongue, then Mirci spoke up in Common. “It wasn’t his fault, sir. It was my machine what went wild. Drive gears broke and the whole thing-“ She stopped abruptly. Agzil imagined this newcomer raising a hand in the way he’d never known a real general to do, and the fear that shot through him was icy and cold at the idea that this might be the Lieutenant of the Tower himself. Something sharp and cold tucked beneath his chin. Agzil felt a trickle of blood down his throat, and he worked to raise his head with the only strength he had left. His eyes met the empty, blank pits in a mask of iron, regarding him expressionless and still. He’d never seen Garavdúr before, but he knew what the War Wolf was meant to look like, and so of course he knew what he was faced with now. His entire body trembled, waiting, staring. Garavdúr did not speak for a long moment. Finally he lifted his sword away from Agzil’s throat and let his head fall, muttering softly as he did. “Pathetic creatures...” The heavy metal footfalls moved away. Agzil laid in the dust for a while before he raised his face again. Mirci’s head was there, coated now in black blood and ash, a few feet from where her body lay crumpled and lifeless. Agzil put his forehead in the dust again. The captain gave him another taste of lashing when he did not try to get up.

Thet wished her mother would loosen up on her hand so she could get closer to the extremely hot molten metal, but unfortunately, it seemed her parents were somewhat responsible. They were traders and always had been, and Thet had seen so many different types of places- dwarf-keeps and hobbit villages and little towns of Men- but never before had she seen metal being worked. It was stunning. “What is it going to be?” she asked eagerly, reaching out a hand as if she could touch the white-hot goop. The smith paused and flipped back the heavy iron mask to reveal fair golden hair and a beard done into neatly capped braids. Her face was smeared with soot. “Going to be a knife someday, little one,” she said in a kind and rumbling voice. “Maybe you’ll use it to cut up your dinner.” “Could you make it a necklace?” Thet asked instead, very eager. They had one necklace in the family; her father wore it at all times and she would recognize the dull reddish gold anywhere. There was a garnet set into the middle. She really liked the chain- how delicate and yet sturdy every individual link was. It was fascinating every time her father let her play with it. The smith looked at her and gave a friendly smile, then reached down with a pair of heavy clamps and broke one small section of the metal off. She twisted it into a crude spiral, bent a thin loop over the top, and then plunged it into her bucket of water. There was a hiss and a rush of steam went up from the boiling liquid. Quick as could be, the smith pulled the spiral out with another clamp and laid it on her table. She produced a length of thin leather from a pile nearby and slipped its end through the loop, and tied it off to create a loose circle. She held the trinket out in a gloved hand. “You be careful now. It’s hot.” Thet squirmed free of her mother’s grip and scurried forward on her crutch. She wrapped her hand in a length of her cloak so she could accept the gift. It was tarnished and none too shiny; just a simple lump of steel crudely wrought into a pendant of sorts, but to Thet’s young eyes it was the most astonishing gift she had ever received. Something made just for her, only for her. Never had she had anything like it. She gripped it tight, pulled it close and looked up eagerly at the tall smith turning back to her work. “I’m going to be just like you someday!” The smith smiled and rustled a hand through the young dwarf’s hair. “You’ll need a good bit of beard before that, little one. Take good care of your necklace.” And Thet never let that shoddy piece of metalwork leave her side.

There was no silence after battle. Corien could only hear the groans of the dying. Flames crackling cruelly in the grass. Huff of beasts and screams carried far away from the walls of the burning city. Orcs that were not quite dead gurgled when he vaulted past. Men that weren’t quite dead begged and choked and sang in shaking, weepy voices. All of it was blurry. Smeared. Nothing real, no sound registering to his battle-worn ears. The only things he heard were the cries of bowstrings, and a clash of steel on steel and wood on stone and metal creaking and screaming and tearing apart. “Halbarad!” he screamed into the settling night. It was lost amidst the identical calls coming up from other places on the field. Other brothers and sisters found hewn, children lifeless, friend and lover ripped apart. Everyone was out to collect their dead. The ribbon tied to the haft of his spear fluttered lightly in the breeze that swept up from the river. It had been blue this morning. It was splattered now with black and scarlet, bruised and sickly beyond repair. He threw the spear aside when he at last saw the gleam of silver against a cloak of bloodstained grey. It took both hands to roll his brother face-up. The silver star Halbarad had always worn on his cloak was shiny and clean, but it was about the only thing left recognizable. Corien’s fingers trembled uncontrollably as he pushed the earth brown hair out of his brother’s face. Blood caught on his fingers and colored his palm scarlet, so he left red smears on the eyelids when he closed those familiar ice-grey eyes. “Halbarad,” he said. His voice sounded so steady it would have surprised him, had he actually believed it was he himself speaking. There was no way it could be. No way he could form the words. “Don’t.. Don’t be dead. You can’t be dead, I- I need you. Please don’t be-“ His eyes travelled slowly to the gashes that tore his brother from jaw to belly and the words broke on a sob. He thought he might have screamed, but so many others were doing the same thing that he couldn’t pick his own voice out from the roar.

Mosco sat listening to the bees. His back rested against the thick grey bark, and his legs were up on a bough, and around his head bees danced from flower to flower in an endless choreographed routine. They were right smart, bees. His ma always said so. They talked back and forth, spoke in their own special language of waltz. Ma used to say that the Greenhands were honey farmers because they had dancing in their blood, and that they and the bees were one and the same. He’d fallen asleep tucked into the branches of his peach tree. The sun was growing low, and at this rate he’d miss his own nineteenth birthday party, but the woods of the Southfarthing were beautiful at sunset in the summer, and he thought he might go for a walk. The grass felt good on his bare feet, if a little cool. His hair hadn’t grown in all proper yet, so sometimes his toes got chilly and he had to embarrass himself wearing socks, but he just chalked that up to his being a “late bloomer,” as Ma put it. He was just out of season. He’d ripen up someday. The birches that made up the part of the forest closest to the farm soon gave way to wrinkly old pines with boughs hanging heavy and dark over their beds of needles. Mosco hummed a walking song, not at all caring for a track to follow, but wandering aimlessly and contemplating his own infinite nineteen-year-old wisdom. The smell of rot stopped him just before he put his foot into it. Beneath the overhanging crypt of the pines, a deer lay dead. Its skin was drawn thin over bones that poked halfway through, and underneath he could see a red-yellow ooze that leaked out into the forest floor. This, he guessed, was what smelled so foul and attracted the bugs. Beetles crawled in and out of the dead animal’s empty eye sockets and nostrils. Worms pitted the parts of its muscle still intact. Mosco saw eggs peppering the ragged hide like white trees in a minuscule forest. His family didn’t eat much meat. They never slaughtered it themselves if they did. He couldn’t think of a time he’d seen a real dead thing. When he got home, he declined the offer of birthday cake and went right to bed, and dreamt of squirming things that burrowed down to lay their eggs in pits beneath his flesh.

Cypress knelt next to the crime scene and tried very hard not to cry. Stuff like this didn’t happen in the Shire. It wasn’t meant to happen. A whole crowd of people looked at her with big, terrified eyes, expecting her to lead them. To tell them what to do in this moment because she was the mayor and she was meant to know. Blood had never been spilled like this. Woodhall’s history was a peaceful one and nothing like this had ever happened before. She looked at the assembled group. It was hard to seem like she wasn’t completely out of her depth, because her voice squeaked rather loudly. “We... We should bury them, yes?” At once the hobbits broke into cries and murmurs that all laid over each other into a horrific cacophony. “They took half the year’s stock!” “How did they get past the borders?” “Why didn’t we know they were coming?” “Are we going to get my honey back?” The last voice was that of Mosco Greenhand, who looked as devastated as the rest, but with an air of determination in his eyes. Cypress raised her hands to quiet the townspeople. “Look, I know this is a lot to process and we can’t understand it yet. But the first thing we ought to do is give these three brave souls who gave their lives for the good of Woodhall a proper burial, yes?” A general murmur of agreement. Cypress looked down at the fair faces she had known, the throats and bellies split by goblin blades, and it made her feel desperately ill. This horror could not be left unpunished.

Sometimes, when Astorrel went to sleep, she had a nightmare. It was always the same one, and it always came on when she decided to rest like other creatures did and actually close her eyes for hours. So, naturally, she avoided doing so. Rested on her feet and never let her guard down while she did it. She never had liked sleeping anyway. Never had any reason to do so for the better part of an age. Lina changed things, though. Lina liked it when Astorrel was there to share her night and her dawn, sleeping and waking, both together as equals. And of course, Astorrel liked to be there when Lina wanted her, and she liked to be close to her beloved, so of course whenever she could she shared Lina’s bed. Made the nightmares come back though. In the deepest hours of the night, when Lina was still and the moonlight slanted in through the window to paint her brown skin silver, Astorrel would lie stiff with her eyes open and nonseeing, and she’d tremble. She knew that in the dream- at least, in parts of it- she was her father. She carried Mirlach, but the blade was younger and the gem hadn’t yet fallen from its hilt. The whole sword always seemed darkened and scarlet-stained to her, and sometimes it dripped. She would hold the fire of the Silmaril and scream and scream as the agony of it withered her flesh away and the stench of rotting burn rose hotly to meet her nostrils, and she would see everything that Maedhros had done to hold the heirloom of his house in his hand, and how in the end, the reward of the quest became its doom. She would feel the irrepressible heat of smoldering, burning rock, and taste the earth as it pressed in, swallowed, took her and her cursed Silmaril into its throat and entombed them there forever. And the dream let her lie, suspended there in agony, the unseen gem scorching her hand to withered bone and the rock pressing in on her, for the entirety of the rest of the world. When she woke up with her hunting knife in her hand, dangerously close to Lina’s back, she decided abruptly she would not be doing this again. She left the cottage that morning before dawn. The next occasion she saw her Lina was on the day she died.

“You’re doing it again,” Léothain said, pulling Wulfrun’s focus away from the herders leading in a group of freshly adult horses to settle in the city. “You don’t really think she’s going to be there, right?” Wulfrun flushed and went back to sharpening her sword. Behind her, Léo plucked the last piece of laundry from the line and waltzed over with his basket against his hip. He stood next to Wulfrun, who sat silent on the stone step and watched young horses and rough herders pass the house by. They didn’t come into the city much; spent most of their time in the downs and the fields tending to their herds. Wulfrun had heard they were capital horsemen, and they guided the herds well enough through the winding lane of Edoras, riding without saddle on their sturdy, gleaming mounts. The horses they were leading in were meant to be ridden in battle. She could tell from the way they moved; so confident with strength and quiet grace, heads set proudly. She’d have one someday. Her fa made enough as a carpenter, but wasn’t much for travel, and they only had one horse for the three of them. The fat little thing was functional enough, but far from the mighty steed Wulfrun dreamed of. “You’re going to be really lucky if you see her again,” said Léo in an irritating sort of singsong voice. Wulfrun scowled at him. The sharpening stone swept over her worn blade again. Again. When most of the herd had passed, she finally found what she’d been seeking. At the rear of the group, riding a tall, shimmering palomino, came the girl. She looked just a little older than Wulfrun’s proud fifteen. Her face gleamed sunshine golden, and the dark hair that should have been dyed probably yellow was grown out and black down to the ears. She wore sturdy, battered clothes like the rest of the herders, but her eyes shone a brilliant black from her regal face. She saw Wulfrun looking and waved. Wulfrun wished she knew her name. She waved back.

Riston wasn’t his proper name. He didn’t know what it was. Could be Jett. Pierson. Randy. Likely he had a family name, too, though he had no guesses as to what it could be and all the Bree names he’d ever heard seemed bizarre and strangely food-centric. He didn’t want to have a real name. He just wanted to be Riston of the elves. Riston of the Havens. That was who he was. He sat on the big smooth rock on the west side of the harbor and plucked absently at his lute strings. Nothing sounded right. Nothing fit how it was supposed it. He was meant to leave in the morning. Head east and find who he actually was. He didn’t want to go. What’s a name matter? he thought as he crossed his legs and tried to let the waves paint a tempo into his mind. Anything he tried to make manifest withered away. I know who I am. This is my home. A discordant note. He tried to retune, very aggressively. Even if I find my family somehow, it’s not like my Westron is good enough to communicate with them. His fingers clenched. It’s not fair. They can’t just ask me to leave like I’m some guest who’s worn out his- One of lute strings snapped against his fingers and on a deep-gut impulse he slammed his fist into the instrument’s wooden body. A crunch, and he’d broken his most prized possession. Riston sat for a moment, slowing his breathing, taking stock of the fist-shaped hole splintering his delicate elf-made lute, the most beautiful thing he’d ever owned. Then he put his face in his hands and started to cry.

#jenga makes junk #fic #tolkien oc #agzil #garavdur #thet #corien #halbarad #mosco #cypress #astorrel #wulfrun #riston #tw gore #tw death #tw rot #i have so many ocs it is not fair

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lover-of-skellies · 4 years

Note

19 and 20, with Blue and Shattered? :0

This ended up being more angsty than scary, but eh. It's written to be a continuation of this prompt I wrote before with them. A part two, of sorts

*cackles* I hope you enjoy it, dear anon~

"Why must you continue disappointing me this way, Blue?"

Blueberry flinched at the harshness of the guardians' words, not looking up at what was once his friend, "I... I'm not trying to disappoint you, Dream. I just... I can't..." Dream sighed, his tentacles idly swaying and writhing behind him, "You can't what, Blue? Quit wasting my time and spit it out already." The smaller of the two frowned, frowning as he finally lifted his gaze to look at Dream, "I... We're supposed to help protect the multiverse. What you want is to destroy it. To take innocent lives and hurt those that don't deserve to suffer anymore. You want everyone to be miserable like you, and that's not fair. I can't be a part of that because I'm not like you."

A tentacle shot between the bars of Blue's cell without warning, wrapping around his neck vertebrae and lifting him up off the ground. Blue immediately began to struggle, desperately grasping at the tendril and attempting to loosen it, all while Dream glared at him, his words bitter and cold, "And just what does that mean? Since when did you actually know anything about me, Blue?" Still frantically trying to free himself of the others grasp, Blue whimpered, "It means that I don't wanna be like you, Dream. You can't make me change my mind. You can keep hurting me, you can harvest emotions from me, and you can abandon me whenever you want, but I'll never do something as horrible as what you wanna do. I'm a hero, not a coward."

The guardian of positivity felt one of his sockets twitch in irritation, and a twisted grin slowly stretched across his face as he tilted his head, "You know... I think there's a phrase the humans are fond of. What was it... 'takes one to know one'? I guess if I'm a coward, so are you. Whatever though, I can't be bothered by your petty insults. I have a deal for you though, that could potentially benefit both of us." Blueberry's voice came out softer than intended as he mumbled, "...What is it?" Dream arched a single brow bone, his tentacle lowering the other skeleton to the ground and releasing him as he hummed, "Well, you're from UnderSwap. You love your AU, and you love your Papyrus. If you accept one of my fruits, it'll make you stronger. You'll be able to protect what you love much more efficiently, with much less effort. If you choose to deny me again, however... well, I'll be bringing back your brothers hoodie, covered in his dust."

Blue's sockets widened and he stared at Dream in shock, "You wouldn't..." Dream's grin shifted into a mischievous smirk, "Oh believe me, Blue, I would. I'd enjoy it very much, in full honesty." Cyan tinted tears began to prink at Blue's sockets and he rushed forward, gripping the bars of his cell as he pleaded with the guardian, "Please don't hurt him, Dream. I'll... I'll try to figure something out with you, as long as you don't hurt Papyrus."

Dream made a soft sound of acknowledgement, "You have a choice to make, Blue. Either sit here and die alone, knowing it's your fault that your brother's dead, or," he paused, slipping his hand into a pouch and withdrawing a black fruit, offering it to the smaller of the two, "you can eat this, and be strong enough to protect him. It's your choice, and you need to make it soon because I'm running out of patience." Blueberry stared at the black fruit, his sockets wide with fear as a single tear rolled down his face. Papyrus would die if he didn't take it, but also... he knew that once he ate it, he'd never be the same again. With shakey hands, he reached out, more tears beginning to drip down his cheekbones as he very delicately took the fruit from Dream, his voice cracking, "T-The fruit... what'll it do to me, Dream? Please be honest, don't withhold anything from me."

The goop covered guardian shrugged, "It takes a not-so-nice trait of whoever eats it, and then amplifies and warps it. It eventually becomes warped enough to manifest in whatever way it deems fit. I wasn't lying when I said it'd make you stronger though. Sure, you may lose a sense of self, but you won't have to worry about anything ever again." Blue nervously gulped, hesitantly lifting his gaze to meet Dream's, "...So it'll take one of my bad traits and make it a lot worse, is what you're telling me?" The guardian made a noise of indifference, "Essentially, yes." Blue's eye lights constricted into the smallest of pin pricks, his voice a whisper, "If that's the case... I don't think you want me to eat this." Dream blinked, confusion briefly flickering in his one visible golden iris. The way Blue had said that... Was that supposed to be a threat?

His confusion rapidly faded, shifting into a scowl as he growled in annoyance, "Just eat the damn fruit already and stop testing me, Blue. We don't have all day to do this, you know." Blueberry whined, a fresh batch of cyan tears wetting his cheekbones as he shook his head, "Dream, please. I don't wanna hurt you." The shattered guardian snorted in amusement, leaning against the bars of the cell, his expression manic as he began to laugh, "Oh, you think you could hurt me, do you? Hurt me then, I'd love to see you try!" Blue began to slowly raise the fruit to his face, watching Dream with an expression of both fear and sorrow, "Dream, you don't want me to do this, trust me. I really shouldn't-" Dream scoffed, waving off the other's words with a single tentacle, "Eat the fruit or your brother dies. The choice is yours." Blueberry's eye lights briefly went out and he let out a deep sigh, "Fine... but don't say I didn't warn you."

Dream offered him a smug smirk, carelessly shrugging his shoulders, "I don't care. Just put the fruit in your mouth before I do it for you." Blue sunk his teeth into the onyx fruit. It's flavor very vaguely reminded him of an apple, though there was something else mixed in... something that was bitter and disruptive. Almost instantly, he felt its effects beginning to work, and he pressed his free hand over his mouth, suddenly feeling sick as he croaked, "I can't... Dream. No more." The guardian grinned maliciously, his golden iris flickering in excitement, "Nope. Eat the whole thing, or the deal is off and Papyrus dies." Blue swallowed back some of the increasing nausea he felt, forcing himself to take a very small second bite. His thoughts began to race and his soul thudded within his ribs. Whose thoughts were those? They couldn't be his. There was no way. Dream was going to hurt HIS Papyrus? Blue couldn't... he began to choke, dropping the fruit and very slowly stood up, his body trembling.

There was no way in hell he was going to let anyone hurt his dear brother. He already knew he'd do whatever it took to keep Papyrus safe.

Before Dream could fully comprehend what he was witnessing, Blue's small body had zipped to another part of the cell, the heel of his boot striking one of the bars and snapping it out of place with ease. As he shifted his empy, souless stare back to the guardian, Dream arched a brow bone, "Let me guess. It's already in effect, isn't it?" Blue didn't respond, bending down to pick up the broken piece of bar that laid on the ground. He eyed the item in silence before his left socket flared up with cyan magic. He raised an arm, directing his magic at Dream, and to Dream's shock, the last golden apple that was his soul appeared in front of him, surrounded by the others magic. His body was abruptly pulled forward, slamming him into the bars of the cell. He lashed out with a tentacle, fully intending to strike Blue dead right where he stood.

But he missed.

Once again, Blue's small body zipped toward him at what could've been considered a record speed. Dream glared, narrowing his sockets as he roared, now visibly enraged, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? I OFFER TO HELP YOU AND THIS IS HOW YOU RESPOND? WHAT KIND OF PRIVILEGED MORON ARE YOU?" Blueberry's expression shifted, a twisted smile stretching across his face as he hissed, "Oh, so I'M the privileged moron? At least I didn't ignore and abandon my brother when he needed me the most."

Dream opened his mouth, fully prepared to fire back, but he was cut off, his single visible socket widening. There was a loud crack, followed by what felt like eternal silence.

Looking down at the bar that had been roughly plunged not just through his sternum and ribs, but also through his very soul, he felt his body begin to weaken, a golden tear running down his cheek. Staring at him coldly, Blueberry released the bar, his voice unnaturally flat and void of emotion, "And that's why you don't threaten Papyrus. I warned you not to make me eat that fruit, but you did. This is your fault, you know." Dream coughed, his tentacles going limp and slowly beginning dissipate as he whispered, "Blue, please. 'M sorry... tell Night that... I'm sorry I wasn't... a better brother."

Through his clouded and frenzied mind, Blue registered Dream's words, offering him an almost sickly sweet smile, "Nah... I don't think I will. Once I'm out of here, he'll be joining you very soon. You should be thanking me, Dream. After all this time, you'll finally be reunited with him, and it'll be because of me."

#anon #asks #oops #i wrote angst instead of horror #wtf #h ow #shattered dream #blueberry sans #swap sans #underswap sans #yandere!blueberry #yanberry #writing

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