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dollfacefantasy · 4 months

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Some Extra Lessons

pairing: professor!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: professor kennedy’s got it bad for one of his students. little does he know, you feel the same way for him.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, thigh riding, fingering, edging, age gap (36/college aged), teacher/student, daddy kink, sir kink, praise/degradation

word count: 7k

a/n: hey everybody. hope everyone had nice holidays if you celebrate them. and happy new year! i'm not sure how i feel about this one but eh. i got things cooking so stay tuned 🫵. as always, thank you for your comments and reblogs. smooches <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus

Mondays and Wednesdays. Those are fast becoming Leon’s two favorite days of the week. For most people, they’re probably the worst days. The first day back to work, and the other right in the middle of the week; when they’ve already had enough but it feels like the weekend is still years away. But not for Leon. Not anymore. Those days are now sacred to him because they are the days he gets to see you.

You’re his favorite student this semester by far, no one else even comes close. He noticed you early on in the beginning weeks, quiet but attentive. You would sit off to the side by yourself, always taking notes or scanning what was on the board.

It made him feel like such a perv when he first noticed his own lingering gazes and heart palpitations when you walked in the room. He tried to justify it. It wasn’t everyday he had someone like you sitting a few rows away from him, hanging on every word he said.

He’s only human, he tried reasoning. He couldn’t help but always notice the cute little outfits you wore to class, teasing just enough of your body to keep him ogling you for more. You did your hair in pretty styles and coated your pouty lips in shimmery gloss. He had to force his eyes to move around the room to other students when he spoke. His natural instinct was to keep them locked on you while his head filled with images of his hands squeezing those cute tits or his cock sliding between your shiny lips.

Despite those fantasies, he left you alone. It was wrong, inappropriate, he told himself. He shouldn’t be lusting after his student, let alone pursuing her. You were just a sweet girl trying to get an education. He couldn’t let his perversions interfere with that.

But as the weeks passed and more classes went by, he got to know you. You seemed pretty shy but not insecure. In class, you’d do your work alone, but if there was ever a lull in his lecture, you’d raise your hand to offer an answer, help him out a little. That was how he had bridged the gap between you two even though he hadn’t meant it as anything more than what it was.

He had just dismissed everyone, making a corny joke about the poor grades he’d given so far on an essay that had been due. A small smile graced your lips. Sure, the joke wasn’t that funny, but you had a fat crush on Mr. Kennedy so everything he said was a little funny.

You were scrawling down a few remaining notes before you would leave for the day when you heard his voice call your name. Immediately, your head tilted up to look at him. He beckoned you over with a wave of his hand. You were still wondering what this could be about as your hands slid your notebook into your backpack and your feet carried you towards him.

“Yes, Mr. Kennedy?” you say softly when you approach his desk. You rest your palms on the edge of the table as you await the reason behind this encounter.

“Hey, I just wanted to thank you for your participation. You know, I appreciate that, and I know it’s not fair to you to have that expected of you when you didn’t sign up for it,” he begins.

“Oh, it’s no problem, sir. I really don’t mind,” you say, smiling at him.

“Sir? So polite,” he jokes with a smile of his own. The remark had come out before he could stop himself with a mental scolding about being normal with you.

Your cheeks burn, and you glance down at your shoes timidly. Your heartbeat was already faster than normal just from having his eyes focused on you alone. With him teasing you, it felt like your chest was going to explode.

This was the closest you’d ever been to him, the most you’d ever spoken to one another. Up close it was even more apparent how handsome he was. He didn’t look like any other professors you had. His blonde hair fell into his face and partially obscured one of his eyes. His shirt was undone a button lower than was probably professional.

“And I wanted to tell you that I got your email about your late assignment,” he says. He could see your embarrassment. He would have felt more guilt about causing it if you didn’t look so precious like that. He pushes those thoughts away though as you look up again, anxiety in your eyes.

“Oh yeah, I’m really sorry about that. I promise you that it’s a one time thing. I don’t normally have that problem, and I just wanted you to know that. Didn’t want you to get the wrong impression,” you say.

He cuts off your apology with a chuckle and places his hand over yours, covering your manicured nails with the rough skin of his palm.

“It’s alright, honey,” he says, “I can tell you’re a good girl. I don’t mind giving you a break.”

Good girl. You shift in place upon hearing those two words. It’s like a small match ignites in your belly, inching closer to the larger fuse.

So naive. So well-intentioned. That’s what he saw looking at you in that moment. He could almost see into you, see your mind trying to figure out a response, to discern if he was purposely flirting or clueless like you.

Your eyes cast down, and a shy smile breaks out on your face. After wrapping up the conversation and finishing with a soft murmur of “Thank you Mr. Kennedy,” you practically skip out of the room. A swirl of almost every good emotion you’ve ever felt blooms in your chest because of his attention.

He smirks, watching that sweet ass sway back and forth as you bound up the steps to the door. How you seem to walk with your shoulders back and chest out after the small praise he gave you. God, he was practically drooling. He imagined himself looking like a cartoon character, silhouettes of hearts in his eyes and his tongue rolled out of his mouth.

But no, this was wrong. Point blank, it’s that simple. Or at least it should be.

After that day, he relented a little. He decided that some slight teasing was harmless. But he swore it would be just that, nothing further. That small voice in his head tried to defend it. It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy the attention. You’d blush and fidget in your seat when he shot you an amorous look. Or you’d smile and flit your eyes away as he’d tuck some hair behind your ear when he’d come over to your desk after class to ask if you understood everything.

And as he weakened, your infatuation intensified. These classes became the highlights of your week. You’d fantasize about the pet name he’d call you on Monday or how his eyes would roam over your body on Wednesday. Walking to class, ringing through your head was simply Mr. Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy. While you traveled home, he danced through your mind to your thoughts about him that sounded like a love song.

Even with the huge torch you carried for him, you could never work up the nerve to make the big move. Every time you’d imagine sitting in his lap, your lips moving with his, all you could think about was what if it was all in your head? All those little looks and sweet words just blown out of proportion in your mind. Could you handle baring your soul to him if he reacted with anything other than reciprocation?

These questions bothered you as the semester went on, but nothing really changed. Leon was the same way, of course, all while you were unaware. He could only imagine how freaked out you would be if he made any attempt on you.

Lately, the two of you had been spending more time together. You were staying after class more to get “additional help.” Lingering around his desk, you’d timidly started approaching him, and he was happy to give you the aide.

Today, he dismisses everyone else before waving you over with a smug smile. You grab your things and scamper down to his desk with your own happy expression. You slide into the chair he pulled next to his seat. You open your laptop and start showing him the things you didn’t understand. In reality, you understood just fine, but for the sake of being around him, you’d bite your lip and look up at him through your lashes as if you’d missed entire classes worth of information.

“I just have trouble with memorization. I get confused between the words and their definitions,” you explain.

“Oh alright,” he responds softly, eyes scanning over the screen and then finding your face, “There’s a couple of things I think could help. Acronyms, stuff like that.”

He starts explaining the strategy to you, but like always, you have to fight a mental war to stay focused. You nod along, trying your best to act attentive. It was so hard though because… he’s him.

You scoot your chair a little closer to his to get a better view of the laptop and notice his breath hitch. Your body freezes, but instead of feeling that familiar fear of rejection come over you, confidence begins simmering inside your chest. The change in his breathing meant something, he was reacting to this too. Maybe you could do this after all.

For now, you try to act natural, moving along the conversation with another question.

“Is there anything else though? Because I struggle to attach the definitions too, not just remember the words,” you say, leaning in a little more.

He turns his head to look at you completely, eyes locked on yours. You felt like you were losing your footing a little staring into them. “Mhm. I can show you how to link the two. Break down the word to get the meanings of the parts and…” he continues on as you zone out.

His voice was huskier now, and that simmer of confidence continues to build within you. You keep nodding with every pause in his speech, your doe eyes looking up at him.

“That makes sense,” you say when he finishes, still unable to look away. Your heart pounds as you make a decision. You place your hand on his thigh. You try to act natural, as if it’s just a casual gesture of affirmation. But you can see in his eyes that he knows better.

“Yeah? Do you need help with anything else then?” he asks slowly, watching your face for reactions.

“I think so,” you say as your voice grows a little breathier.

“What is it?” he asks. He leans in a little more and you can feel his hot breath fanning over you.

“I have some more questions…” you say.

“About?” he says, eyes dropping to your lips for a moment.

Head tilting down, your foot moves over to lightly brush up against his leg. You bite your lip, looking the most timid he’d ever seen you, which was saying a lot. But you force yourself to keep going while you have this burst of hope.

“Some special tutoring…” you offer.

“Special tutoring?” he repeats with a raise of his eyebrow, looking down at your foot rubbing at his ankle. He hesitates but decides to then take your hand and stand up. “If we’re discussing something like that, we should probably go to my personal office. Wouldn’t want us to get interrupted by the next class in here.”

“Oh yeah,” you immediately agree. You grab your stuff and your fingers link with his as he leads you out of the classroom, down the hall to his office. Passing bulletin boards of flyers and other students heading to their next class, you realize it probably looks a little odd to be holding his hand, letting him guide you around. But it just turned you on more, feeling dependent, controlled.

After a while, you reach the door with the stick-on placard reading “Leon Kennedy.” Your heart pounds as you shuffle through the entrance. The office was a decent size, having a desk, some book shelves, and a small loveseat in the back corner of the room.

He slides past you and walks behind his desk, taking a seat in his chair that was clearly much more comfortable than the generic one in the lecture room. It dawned on you though that that was the only other chair in the room. There was the couch, but that was too far away from the desk for your purposes.

You approach the desk, similar to how you did all those weeks ago when this first started. He looks up at you with hesitant desire in his eyes.

“Why don’t you c’mere?” he asks.

“Ok,” you respond shyly. You drop your stuff near his desk and pad around it to approach him. Standing between his muscular thighs, you almost can’t focus from the volume of your pulse in your ears. His eyes look you up and down, more overtly than they ever had in the past. It now felt like you were hurtling towards a collision without a possibility of stopping.

After a moment of silence, he rips you from your thoughts. “Go ahead and ask your questions,” he says.

“Oh yeah,” you say, perking up a little since you had nearly forgotten about your facade of innocent curiosity. “I was just wondering if I could maybe start getting some… extra help.”

He chuckles and leans back in his chair. The maneuver gives you a better view of his broad chest and sculpturesque arms. You feel even more flustered, and you know it’s about to get worse because he obviously picks up on it.

“I don’t really think you need extra help quite honestly. Your grade is fine, and you seem to understand a lot, even the tedious things you ask questions about,” he says, a subtle arrogance on his face as he drags this out.

“No, I really think I do,” you say softly, shifting back and forth in place.

His eyes look up at you with a knowing glint. He shakes his head with a smirk as his gaze falls down to your legs that couldn’t stand still.

“With what? Like I said, even those things you pretend to not know, you obviously do. You ace every test, and while I’d like to believe it, I don’t think my advice is that helpful.”

As the words left his mouth, Leon knew he was getting into dangerous territory, leading you to a place neither of you could just return from. The rational part of his mind was slamming on his mental brakes to no avail.

You were in a similar place, your mind racing and trying to decide whether to go for it or not. After a quick moment, it was as if a bright neon sign flashes in your mind. The words telling you to try. You decide on moving forward and ignoring the other part of you that’s telling you to turn around and walk out the door right now.

You sit on his lap, straddling him with each of your legs on either side of his thigh. You look down as your fingertips drag along the waistline of his pants.

“I just think there are other things I could learn from you,” you say, your voice shaking from your nerves.

“Tell me what they are,” he breathes. His own heart slams against his ribcage at your gesture. His natural instincts scream at him to pull you close and take what he wants, making his fantasies reality.

“It’s easier for me to show you,” you say. You felt if you had to speak anymore you might lose your nerve, so you go all in. You lean forward and connect your lips. With feather light kisses, you move your mouth on his.

At first, he doesn’t kiss back, and fear zaps through you. After a moment of shock though, he reciprocates. Your hands slide up his chest while he grabs your hips to pull you closer. The two of you go at it a little longer with soft smooches. Then he feels your tongue swipe against his bottom lip.

He pulls back and looks at you. He couldn’t do this. But God, just look at you. Your chest heaving with your heavier breathing, those plush lips wet with saliva, pretty eyes looking at him like a pleading puppy. He groans and runs a hand over his face and through his hair. His head falls back against his chair.

“Sweetheart… we shouldn’t do this,” he says, not looking at you to try and keep his resolve.

You bite your lip as your eyes widen with anxiety. “Did I do something wrong?” you say, shaky voice returning.

You try to keep it together. He still wasn’t looking at you, but you silently vow to yourself that you wouldn’t cry from the rejection. There would truly be no coming back from that. It would be hard enough seeing him on Monday as it was. If you shed any tears, you’d have to drop the class regardless of how close the end of the semester was.

“No, honey. I did. I just… it’s wrong,” he offers weakly, not convinced of his own excuse, “I shouldn’t have let it get this far. I’m sorry.”

Despite your internal promise, you felt barbs scraping at your throat with each swallow. Hot, stinging tears pricking at your eyes. You try to push it all back down, spare yourself some dignity.

“But- But don’t you-” you start, cutting yourself off to maintain your composure. You take a deep breath before finishing. “Don’t you like me?”

Leon cracks his eyes open and looks down at you. A critical error. He felt like such a dick. There you were, still on his lap, lip quivering, eyes lined with tears and full of uncertainty. He managed to make this into what he wanted to avoid, a complete mess.

“No- I mean yes, I like you a lot. That isn’t the issue here. We- I… we just can’t do this. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let it go on this long,” he sighs, hands falling to your hips to move you off his lap.

Now, tears were really threatening to fall. You grab his shoulders to stabilize yourself and stop him from lifting you up. Your mind scrambles for an argument that could work.

“Why?” is all you can manage. As if you didn’t know.

“Baby, I’m your teacher. It wouldn’t be right,” he says, forcing himself to remain unaffected by the kicked puppy look you had going on, “I have to stay objective, and that’s hard enough with a cute little thing like yourself.” He smirks at the end of his statement and rubs your cheek, trying to lighten the mood.

It doesn’t work, your eyes are fixated on his belt buckle as a part of the strategy to keep your tears from leaking out. You subconsciously lean into his hand on your face though, a gesture that makes his heart melt. You just nod faintly. Think, think, think, think, you tell yourself.

“But it won’t be like you’re cheating for me. I get good grades. It’s not like I’m fucking you to pass…” you reason.

“I know that, sweetheart, and you know that. But you have to understand. Think about it. What if people found out? I’d be risking my job, and I can’t imagine it would go well for you either,” he says softly, stroking some of your hair behind your ear.

“No one will find out,” you say. Your head tilts up so you can look into his eyes.

He immediately looks away, afraid he would cave if he stared into those sweet spheres of desire. You catch this, realizing it may be your way ahead.

“You’re a sweet girl, honey. Pretty and smart. The kind any man would be lucky to have. If this was a different situation, I wouldn’t hesitate. Not for a second. But it’s not,” he says, looking pained.

You push your lip out a little more and let one tear fall from each eye before quickly wiping them away, smearing the warm liquid across your cheek. Leaning forward, you wrap your arms around him and press yourself to his chest. You look up at him, forcing him to make eye contact.

“I don’t want any man though,” you say quietly. You keep your stare locked on him, your eyes big and vulnerable to accentuate your point. “Please, sir.”

His cock jumps at the title leaving your lips. He sucks in a breath and tilts his head back. “Christ, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he says with a hushed groan.

You scoot forward a little bit, your hips grinding down on his lap with the motion. Your nose drags against his throat as you nuzzle his neck. You lay a kiss to his pulse point before murmuring, “Just a few more kisses? Then I won’t bring any of it up again. Pretty please.”

“Kisses…” he trails off, pondering the idea. Just a few more kisses. An obvious lie. But one he would at least pretend to believe just so he could have those sweet lips on his again. “Fine, but that’s it. You understand?”

“Mhm,” you respond without thinking. You lean up and kiss him. It’s not soft or gentle like the first time. This go is passionate from the beginning. Lips move together, and again, your tongue works to gain entry to his mouth.

The two of you make out for definitely more than a few kisses. Your hand slides up from his shoulder to the base of his neck, lightly tugging on his hair. He groans and squeezes your waist. You gasp between kisses at the sensation and grind your hips down again in response.

He grunts as he feels it, his cock getting a little stiff at the feeling. You do it again with a whimper. This time his fingers dig into your flesh, holding you with more authority.

“Be good, only a few more kisses, remember?” he grunts against your lips.

Continuing to kiss, you take a break from moving your hips and push your body against his again. Your soft tits push up against his chest. He tries to draw back, feeling cracks in his resolve as the warm globes meld with him. The backing of his chair stops him from getting too far away though. He grunts and his grip gets more firm, trying to keep you in a suitable position.

“Stay still. Think I’m giving you more than you asked for anyway. Don’t make me cut it off here,” he mumbles before going back in.

It was risky, but you felt like you had him. You felt him half hard between your legs and could feel his breath coming out in longer puffs. You do it again, rolling your hips on him, dragging your cunt over his bulge through the layers of clothing that separated you.

He growls and nips at your lip before harshly lifting your hips off his lap. You’re hovering above the growing tent in his jeans. You lightly rock them a few times with a pout, testing to see if you can get any kind of friction.

“What did I say?” he asks.

“It’s not fair, sir,” you whimper, ignoring his question.

“Oh, it’s not?” he says, maintaining his stern demeanor, “What’s so unfair?”

“Leading me on,” you huff.

Mix a bit of truth in with your seductive game, and you have him now. Real guilt and frustration swirls with the lust in the pit of his belly. He was all in now. There was no way you were leaving this office without his cum leaking from you.

“I told you what you were getting. You thought you could get away with being greedy,” he chides. He lifts you even more and puts you on your feet in front of him, between his thighs again. “Take your pants off.”

Your eyes widen. This was going to happen. Your fingers make quick work of your jeans, snapping the button and dropping them to pool around your ankles. You step out of them and nudge them to the side. He smirks up at you, standing there in your tight t-shirt and frilly pink panties. Of course, everything about you was cute.

His hands return to your hips and pull you on top of him. This time you aren’t on his lap though. You land on his thigh. You look down at the limb beneath you and then back at his face.

“Don’t play dumb now. You wanna rub that needy pussy on something, go ahead,” he says.

“But-“ you start before he cuts you off with a sharp smack on the ass.

“I don’t want to hear any complaining. You should count yourself lucky I’m letting you even do this,” he says as his hand rubs and kneads the cheek he just slapped, “Normally, I wouldn’t accept my little girl just doing whatever she wants like that. But because it’s your first time, I’m giving you a break. Gonna help fix this problem you’re having, thinking from between your legs instead of with that pretty little head.”

Your entire face heats up as he lays into you like that. You start rocking your hips, dragging yourself on his clothes thigh. You watch his face for approval as you go, but his eyes are transfixed on your lower body at the moment.

“There you go, baby. That’s right,” he says encouragingly before cracking you on the ass again, “Little faster. Wanna see how bad you’ve been wanting this.”

You do as he says, rolling your hips with more speed and force. The fabric of your panties begins to dampen with your arousal as you press onto it. Whimpers fall from your lips as you grind your swollen pussy on his muscle. He gives you some help, guiding your movements by holding your hips. You softly gasp a few times, biting your lip as you continue to rut against him.

“Look at you,” he coos. Your tits bounce beneath your t-shirt as you ride his thigh. “Been thinking about this a lot, sweetheart? Dream about this while you’re sitting in class, hm? Humping my leg like a dumb little puppy.”

“Yes,” you choke out and toss your head back. A guttural moan leaves you, and he chuckles, giving your hip a tighter squeeze.

“Quiet, babydoll. Don’t want anyone outside this room hearing. I don’t think they’d believe this is just some ‘special tutoring,’” he says.

You keep up your grinding, your pussy sensitive to the rough fabric of his pants even through your panties. He tries to help you quiet down by pulling you closer and cradling your head against his shoulder, muffling your sounds against his shirt. The cloth becomes wet with your spit as your hushed moans spill out.

After going for a little while longer, he can tell you’re getting close. It’s obvious in the way your hips sputter every couple of thrusts, how your voice is getting whinier, how your body contracts every few moments. Your hands curl into fists, clutching the fabric of his shirt.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers, “Getting close, baby? Think you’re gonna cum soon?”

“Yes, sir,” you whimper.

“Aw, so polite,” he teases just like he had those weeks ago, “Well, tell me when you’re right there. Gonna make it extra special.”

You nod obediently and continue working yourself to the high point. Your breaths become sharper and movements get more erratic. You feel the band of pleasure stretching inside you, ready to snap.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum, “ you ramble out.

“Not yet, you aren’t,” he says.

With a menacing grin, he yanks your hips up and flips you around. Mind spinning from the sudden loss of pleasure, you whine and squirm on his lap. A pointless struggle seeing how your soaked panties were faced out away from any potential source of friction. Your back’s flush against the warmth of his chest. You can feel his heartbeat thudding behind you as his hands curl around the back of your legs and bring them up so that your feet are planted on his thighs. Your head slumps back against his shoulder, turning to look up at him, pleading frustration projecting from your eyes.

One of his arms snakes around your waist while the other comes up to stroke your chin with his thumb. He looks down at you, eyes full of amusement as he toys with you.

“Now that was really unfair, wasn’t it pretty girl?” he taunts.

You arch your back off his chest with another whine before collapsing against his broad form again. You nod, feeling the sparks of ecstasy dwindle within you.

“You’re a tease,” you huff.

“I am?” he mocks.

He begins trailing his hand down your front, stopping level with your breasts. He squeezes them gently with some firm caresses from his fingers. Then he lowers his hand further and slips it beneath your shirt. Your breath hitches as he begins stroking the soft skin of your belly up to the valley between your breasts. His palm slides beneath the cups of your bra, feeling the bare skin of your chest. He alternates between each. The rough pads of his fingertips drag over the sensitive flesh of your nipples, giving them tender pinches that draw hushed mewls from you.

“So soft, baby,” he whispers with a kiss to your temple.

It felt nice, made your breasts feel heavy and achy, begging to be touched. Had your head hot and airy, unable to control the way you melted against him or the sweet noises that escaped you. But you couldn’t really enjoy that because your pussy was still throbbing, still desperately searching for the orgasm that was stolen from you. You squirm again, pushing your ass back against the bulge you felt growing in his pants.

“Please, sir. Please,” you whimper, “Wanna cum.”

You feel his lips curl into a smile against the side of your head, but his tone remains rough and commanding. “I think the next thing I gotta teach you is patience.”

Retracting his hand from your bra, he smooths it back down your stomach to the hem of your panties. His fingers fidget with one of the strips of lace on the garment while he stares into your eyes.

“You know, baby, I think you’re the tease here,” he breathes. He rubs the skin just above your panties and then moves under the fabric. His digits glide through your slick folds, the touch meandering, just at the border of giving you pleasure. “I mean, I think you know what you’ve been doing.”

“What?” you say, struggling to take in his words when you were fixated on his touches to your center.

“You act like a dumb little doll, sweetheart, but I know you’re not. I know you know how to play. Parading around in those pretty outfits, something always on your lips, always saying ‘yes sir,’” he whispers. His digits circle your clit at a painfully slow pace. He brushes over it slightly, giving you hope before flattening his hand over your cunt. You get ready to whine about the teasing before he pushes two fingers inside you.

“Mr. Kennedy,” you gasp, head pressing back further against his shoulder.

“Oh, and how could I forget my favorite, ‘Mr. Kennedy.’ But I think it’s about time you start calling me Leon, babydoll. No need to be so formal anymore,” he says as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right.

You shake your head and whimper. His palm rubs down on your puffy clit with every thrust of his hand.

“Oh no?” he teases, “You like Mr. Kennedy taking care of you, making you feel good?”

Your eyes roll back as you nod. “Mhm. Yes… s-sir,” you say.

You stumble over the word ‘sir.’ Leon catches it immediately, and he’s certain he knows why. He knows what you really wanted to call him.

“Mmm, good girl,” he purrs in your ear, seeing the way the praise pulls extra gasps from you, makes your eyes all glossy, “You’re so sweet, baby. So precious.”

He lays it on thick, trying to get you to crack and say the word on the tip of your tongue. His fingers massage your sensitive spots as they consistently slide into your dripping cunt. You bite your lip, more whimpers coming from you. You look up at him again through your lashes.

“Thank you, sir,” you say, voice all soft and dreamy as you start climbing to that high.

“Of course, babydoll. You deserve it,” he says into your hair, “But you know, I still think ‘sir’ is too professional. Makes me feel like I’m at work. Plus, I get the feeling you have another name in mind too.”

“I- I do?” you ask, looking up at him curiously. He smiles at your naivety and the way you try to get your words out around your whimpers.

“Oh yeah. I can already hear it, sweetheart. You like being taken care of, being doted on. I can see it. All you want is to be a good girl for…”

“Daddy,” you whine, your eyes squeezing shut.

“That’s right,” he chuckles. He speeds up his fingers, delving as deep as possible. A quiet squeal erupts from you, and he hushes you while kissing your cheek a few times. You try to keep your noises down even as your hips buck and your heels dig into the meat of his thighs.

“Daddy I- Daddy, Daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you moan.

“Aw, but I don’t want my baby to cum yet,” he mocks. Just as quick as the release had built in you, it was gone. He pulls his fingers out of your hole, and your eyes widen. You whimper in disbelief, hips squirming as if they could find that sensation again if they were positioned just right.

“Daddy!” you practically cry.

“Thought I told you to be quiet,” he says, taking his fingers, still wet with your slick, and shoving them into your mouth. You hum around them in surprise at first, but in no time, your tongue presses against the skin, tasting yourself on him. He pumps them in and out a little, a smaller version of what he had been doing moments earlier down below.

“There you go, baby. Like I said, no complaints. Just shut that silly mind off and focus on Daddy’s fingers,” he murmurs. He watches with approval as you do exactly that, your eyes fluttering a bit as you clear your thoughts out. “Such a fast learner.”

Your pussy still aches with a need for him, but it’s more tolerable when he’s cooing in your ear while your lips are around his fingers.

“Bet my pretty girl wants to cum so bad right about now,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear.

“Mhm,” you hum as you take his fingers further into your mouth.

“Well, you know why Daddy didn’t let you cum yet? It wasn’t just to be mean to you,” he says.

He hears garbled “I don’t know” come from you. He strokes your hair with his other hand.

“It’s because,” he starts. He removes his fingers from between your lips and scoops you up. Next thing you know, your back is against the hardwood of his desk. You’re looking up at him with hazy eyes, slowly blinking as you take in his words. “I want you to cum all over Daddy’s cock.”

In mere seconds, his belt clanks against the floor, your panties are gone, his fly is undone, and his dick is out, rock hard. It’s flushed and leaking precum as he moves it to your entrance. He pushes the tip in first, teasing you by holding himself there.

You whine at the slight intrusion, wiggling your hips for more. Jutting your lip out a bit, you look up at him with a pout. “Daddy…” you plead weakly.

He shakes his head with an amused smile, but it works. He pushes the rest of his length in, filling you up completely. As he slides in, a long groan leaves him and his head tilts towards the ceiling. He grumbles something along the lines of “so fucking tight.” Your fingers reach downward to grip the edge of his desk. It felt like you were already there again, right on the brink of release.

After a moment of just taking in the feeling, he begins thrusting. He pulls his hips back and pushes them forward again. His cock slides between your walls with no resistance, the perfect fit. You were already pulsing around him, sucking him in deeper. A deep laugh rumbles from his chest.

“You're gonna cum already, baby. I’m that good?” he mocks. He thumbs your clit, sending a burst of pleasure through you that makes you clamp down on him. He grunts and starts thrusting a little harder.

You’re whining quietly, but you can’t hold back the yelp when he pinches your clit. You cum on the spot, gushing around him. You babble incoherently and buck your hips. The high was higher than any euphoria you’d ever felt. You’re panting when it’s done, but he’s still going.

He’s smirking down at you, rocking his hips all the while. “Did I say you could do that?” he asks with a light spank to your clit.

You gasp and arch your back off the desk. “No!” you whine, “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“I’m sure you are.” Another spank. “You’re lucky it’s your first time, and I’m giving you a break today.”

You nod quickly. “Thank you Daddy,” you mumble.

He keeps thrusting, seamlessly going between hard and fast and slow and deep. The motions shake the desk back and forth, sliding inches on the floor each time. You feel like there’s gonna be scrape marks when you’re done.

You also feel like you’re gonna have marks from the way he’s gripping your hips, battering your sensitive pussy. You were so worked up from all the teasing that the overstimulation didn’t even faze you. Your head just droops back, hanging off the edge of the desk.

It’s harder to keep track of how loud you’re being when you’re this out of it. He smiles at your needy whines and pulls your thighs forward so your head is back on the desk. He leans forward, covering his body with yours and grinding his hips deeper than before. His hand comes up and covers your mouth.

“You better hope no one hears, pretty girl. We didn’t lock the door,” he pants.

You moan against the flesh of his hand and your walls tighten their grip on him. He growls in your ear at the sensation before a low chuckle comes from him.

“Oh, you’d like that? I should’ve known,” he teases, “You’d love for someone to come in and see how good you’re being. What a sweet girl you are, being used by your teacher. Love for them to see all the things Daddy’s teaching you.”

A strained cry bubbles beneath his fingers, and you nod, feeling shameless about your fantasy. He nuzzles the side of your head and keeps thrusting as deep as he can. He knows you’re getting close again, and this time, he’s right there with you.

“Come on, sweet baby. Give Daddy another one. I know my precious girl can do it. You were wanting it for so long,” he grunts.

Your whole body seizes as another orgasm rips through you. Your whines and cries are fortunately muffled by his palm, but he feels your drool leaking against his skin. His own eyes squeeze shut as he gasps and moans. His hips jerk, pounding into you a few more times before he cums. He bites his lip to silence his own noises as he spills into, filling you to the brim.

Both of your chests are heaving in the end as you take in gulps of air. He slowly pulls out and pushes some of his hair out of his face. You're both half dressed, his pants down to his knees, shirt unbuttoned. You, nude from the waist down and bra shifted out of place beneath your shirt.

The two of you stand up, you on shaky legs, and pull yourselves back into shape. You pull your panties up and follow them with your jeans while he does the same with his pants. He then falls back into his chair and takes you with him.

He just holds you to his chest for a little bit, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head. You don’t say anything either. You curl up into the affection and stroke his forearm gently.

“Sweet girl,” he murmurs before squeezing you a little tighter.

You’re both so into it, not caring about anything beyond this office at this moment. That is until you catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall.

“Oh… Mr. Kennedy,” you start as you slowly untangle yourself from him and stand up, “I probably should get going. I have to meet my friend to study soon.”

He’s not happy about losing your body on his, but he smiles at your words.

“Alright, honey, but seriously. It’s Leon from now on,” he says.

“Ok,” you laugh with a nod, “Leon.”

You grab your things and give him one more sweet look before turning to walk to the door. He pats you on the ass and kisses your cheek.

“See you Monday, baby,” he says.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #smut

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cuubism · 2 months

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more physical therapy au

Dream comes to his next physical therapy appointment marginally--marginally--less apprehensive than before. When he'd first gone, he'd expected to be told he was being melodramatic. That he should just be grateful that the surgery was successful and he has some functioning. That he should just give up on his art, that it didn't matter, that it was hopeless.

He doesn't know why he thought that. It's been hard to have a charitable view of people, lately.

But Hob wasn't like what he feared. Hob was... kind. To him.

So he goes back.

He has, in fact, been doing the exercises that Hob gave him. It is not as though he has much else to do with his time. Other than setting up his new flat, where he now lives after fleeing what had once been his home. Even a few months later, the place is fairly... minimalist. Which is not Dream's style. But he'd left with little more than his art portfolio and the clothes he was wearing, deciding that it wasn't worth going back, and he hasn't had the energy to replace anything since.

Or the two functioning arms required to move things.

His flat is depressing enough that even the physical therapy office feels warm and welcoming by comparison. Hob gives him a big smile as he comes in. It's pathetic that it makes his heart flutter.

He goes over to Hob, setting the folder he brought on the table.

"You look cheerful," Hob notes. Dream highly, highly doubts that. But he is perhaps slightly less morose than last time. Nevertheless, he finds Hob's optimism... somewhat cheering. Normally, he would find such a thing annoying. But there is something very steady and reassuring about Hob. Not much in Dream's life has felt steady in some time.

"I have tried finger painting," Dream tells him. He takes the piece out of the folder and shows it to Hob.

It had been interesting, at least. Distracted him for a moment. Made him think about the way children make art, before becoming mired in theory and technique.

He had considered bringing one of his usual pieces to demonstrate to Hob what he's meant to be able to do, in case that would be helpful, but it's still painful to look at them.

Hob takes the painting and stares at it with wide eyes. "How is this actually good?"

Dream should probably be offended by his incredulity but instead he just finds it amusing. "I had lots of time to spend."

He has, once again, painted a bunch of cats, all different colors, cluttering the page. It's simple, and lets him avoid thinking about his more conceptual pieces he hasn't been able to work on.

"Wow," Hob says, propping the painting carefully against the wall by his computer. "Okay. Good work going above and beyond on the instructions, Dream."

That praise alone shouldn't make something in his chest start glowing. But it does.

"It did not hurt... much," he says tentatively, before Hob can ask. "However, with a brush..."

It is incredibly frustrating. It's like his body continually wishes to betray him. He's lost his home and everything he owns and now he cannot even have his art.

"Give it some time," Hob says, reasonably. He is much more patient, and optimistic, than Dream.

He makes Dream draw and write again. It's... perhaps marginally easier after the exercises Hob had given him. Still, he finds himself getting frustrated by the weakness of his grip. And the more frustrated he gets, the tighter he grips the pencil. He knows he shouldn't. But.

"Lighter," Hob tells him, and Dream glares at him. Hob raises his hands. "Not telling you how to do your art. Just telling you how not to hurt your hand."

Dream bites down on his annoyance, but loosens his grip.

He doesn't see very much progress, but Hob seems satisfied. He makes Dream run through some other strengthening exercises, which... don't hurt as much as Dream was expecting them to. He'd expected that this whole process would be nothing but gritting his teeth through agonizing pain, to minimal results. Perhaps Death is right, and he should be less pessimistic.

In any case, Hob seems proud of him at the end. Even if Dream doesn't think he's done anything to be proud of.

But he does leave, perhaps, slightly more hopeful than he entered. And he wants to come back. At least to see Hob again.

Hob doesn't know if it's patronizing to be proud of Dream, but he is. Over the last few sessions, his grip has improved a lot. Dream doesn't seem to see it, but that's alright. Hob does. He's been keeping all of Dream's drawings. They are getting better.

Hob is pretty good at optimism. But even so, it somehow hadn't occurred to him that quiet and morose wasn't Dream's natural state. That is until he sees the joy that lights up in him the first time he's able to draw a cat without his hand shaking. Dream smiles so wide, like he isn't even aware Hob is still watching him, and Hob realizes that there is lightness to him. It's just been buried down.

The time after that, Dream even brings some of his old art to show. Hob's been dying to see it for ages, but hasn't pressed. And Dream's art is gorgeous. Hob can understand, now, why he'd been dissatisfied with those first cats he'd drawn, no matter how charming Hob had found them. His big pieces are so finely detailed, so precise. It's... possibly going to take a bit more time to get him back to that than Hob had thought. But he's determined.

But Dream seems happy to be sharing his art, doesn't fold in on himself this time just to mention it. He talks with enthusiasm about his process, the most words Hob's heard him say in... well, ever. Hob tells him that he's made enough progress to pick up painting--with brush, not fingers--again if he wants, but not to beat himself up if it doesn't look the same as his old ones. And for once, it seems like Dream actually accepts the instruction not to berate himself.

All of this is, most certainly, the reason Hob does the insane thing he does next.

He's organizing his records, having already walked Dream out, when he hears raised voices from out on the walkway. The front door is still open a crack, he realizes, so the sound carries.

"Come on, you're overreacting," says an unfamiliar, male voice. "I said I won't do it again, didn't I?"

"Do not," Dream replies, voice anxious, but determined, "follow me."

"Well if you'd just pick up your phone--"

Hob steps outside. An unfamiliar man--the ex-boyfriend, Hob assumes, he doesn't know his name, hasn't asked, doesn't care--has Dream cornered in the doorway. His posture doesn't immediately scream rage or aggression, which is more unnerving rather than less, considering this is the same person who'd snapped and broken Dream's hand.

And Dream looks scared. Under the mask of stoicism he likes to wear. Any cheer or hope he'd gained from today's session has evaporated, and he looks like he did before, when he'd first come to Hob's office, curled in on himself. It breaks Hob's heart. And makes him angry.

"Stop being selfish and just--" the ex-boyfriend continues. Hob means to cut in and diffuse the situation. Tell him to leave in a reasonably professional manner.

Instead he punches him in the face.

Ex-boyfriend's nose goes crunch in an extremely satisfying way, and he reels back with a shriek, hands going to his face. Dream startles back, hands clutched around his art portfolio.

"What the FUCK!" yells ex-boyfriend, voice nasally from the blood running down his face. "You can't just-- this is assault! I'll call the cops!"

Oh he wants to go there, does he? "You wanna talk about assault?" Hob says, voice rising in volume. Dream edges behind him, though Hob's not sure he's fully aware he's doing so. "You want to get police involved, that's really what you want?"

Ex-boyfriend looks from Hob to Dream and back, hesitating. That's fucking right, Hob thinks. Not so easy to kick someone around when there's consequences, huh?

It helps that Hob is visibly stronger than Dream, and spends all day physically moving people around. If ex-boyfriend tries anything he's going to get put on the ground.

Finally he retreats, though with a look of rage towards Hob. Once he's gone, Dream finally seems to relax, some of the tension easing from his shoulders.

"You did not need to," he murmurs.

Hob shakes his head. "No one gets to come and threaten you here. Particularly not that dickhead."

Dream huffs a small laugh. Then he picks up Hob's hand, studying it. Hob winces. It's certainly going to bruise.

"Now you will need physical therapy," Dream says, lips twitching. Hob's glad for the humor in his voice.

Hob laughs. "Worth it."

"No one has..." Dream starts, slowly, "done something like that. For me."

It hurts, to think that no one's stood up for him. Or even let him know that someone should stand up for him.

"If he comes back I'll do it again," Hob says, and gets a tentative smile from Dream.

Then asks, "Does he know where you live?"

Dream frowns. "I do not think so."

"Want me to walk you home?"

He doubts Dream's ex-boyfriend will come back to the office now that he knows Hob's willing to deck him, but that doesn't mean he won't try to corner Dream elsewhere.

Dream deliberates, then says, "Would you?"

"'Course, love. Just let me lock the place up."

He doesn't realize what he's said until he's already turned back to lock the door. Shit. Today has already gone so far beyond what he's supposed to do as Dream's physical therapist, and now...

In the end, Dream doesn't call him out on it. But he does stick close to Hob's side as they walk, and occasionally when Hob looks over at him, he catches a tiny smile on his face.

#this is so sappy oh my god #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing #cw abuse #physical therapy fic #long post

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elsbunny · 9 months

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— els with a hyper feminine gf!

warnings: hyper feminine reader, ellie being a nerd, gf!ellie, LOSER els, ellie being a meanie in the beginning just because shes a idiot in love, overall just fluff <3

when ellie first met you she thought you were shallow, and she still curses herself for it

with that let’s say she didn't get along with you at first, always getting irritated when you demanded more time to get ready

there was no way to get away from you because you guys had the same group of friends, so in time ellie learned that you weren't just some fancy doll who only thinks about pink and glitter

she even learned that you get extremely frustrated when you forget your lip gloss, so she bought one to always keep in her pocket

ellie who became obsessed with the perfume you wear and always manages to smell you up close

ellie who thinks you are the sweetest girl in town

ellie who still tries to pretend she doesn't care about you, but every time she sees a cute stuffed animal she buys it and has it delivered to your house

ellie who always rolls her eyes every time you start talking about the expensive bags you like, even though she loves hearing you talk about things that amuse you

ellie who loves that your not afraid to perform your femininity

ellie who finally accepted that she adores that your always so giddy and jumpy and pretty like a doll

ellie who got close to you and started giving you the sweetest nicknames (dollie, sweet face, pretty girl, angel, princess, bambi and pinkie)

ellie who had about fifty existential crises before asking you out and sending you a paper at the end with a "do you want to be the only mouth I kiss, yes or no?" and of course she put a little heart on the side

gf!ellie is the type of girlfriend who sends you pictures of marceline and princess bubblegum saying "that's so us"

gf!ellie who would just sit there, smiling like a idiot watching you ramble about some new cute outfit you bought for yourself, always nodding her head to make sure you know shes following along

gf!ellie who stays up all night watching tutorials on how to do cute hairstyles

gf!ellie who became a MASTER at styling your hair, always adding cute little pink bows because she knows you’d love it

gf!ellie who took some time to fully understand your fashion sense

gf!ellie who became your personal skincare product tester

gf!ellie who learned how to paint your nails

gf!ellie who patiently waits for you to get ready and smile widely when you show up all pretty

gf!ellie who always appreciates the way you take your time to always be neat

gf!ellie who was extremely happy when you bought matching pajamas, yours being pink with bunnies everywhere and hers being green with little dinosaurs everywhere

gf!ellie who grew a bit possessive after she realized that everyone finds you attractive

gf!ellie who always sends you links of cheap, but nice, clothes expecting you to spend less

gf!ellie who associates you with everything thats cute

gf!ellie who saw a cute bunny and immediately sent you a picture saying "that's literally you babe”

gf!ellie who loves that you both are the perfect example of polar opposites

gf!ellie who deeply loves everything about you and would do anything to make HER sweet girl happy <3

MIGHT MAKE A PART TWO BECAUSE HYPER FEM X LOSER MASC ITS MY KINDA OF THIIIING BABES

#elsbunny #🐇 izi #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams #ellie williams headcanons #ellie thoughts #ellie tlou #ellie reactions #drabble #👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 - els my baby bear #ellie girlfriend #👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 - els baby bear

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morebird · 4 months

Text

Okay finally

Small lighting tutorial (very long post, lots of images)

First of all I work on PS but if you have basic knowledge of your program of choice this will be easy to follow.

Second I use a different layer for everything. So assume that each screenshot is a new layer.

Third I've seen people not knowing how to choose colors for light and shadow and for me it comes out naturally so I don't put that much thought in it, but picking the neighboring color in the color wheel never fails, so lets say you use a red for the lighting, then pick either orange or pink for the shadow. The shadow should be fairly desaturated. However if the lighting is the desaturated you can go wild with the shadow saturation. But this is subjective and it's very dependent on your goals and art style.

Okay let's start:

Line art

Base color

Now for the shadow layer. The layer blending mode is in hard light mode

I use the quick selection tool on the previous base color layer, and in the new shadow layer with the hard light mode set I fill the selection with the paint bucket tool.

The lighting layer is on the linear dodge (add) mode.

I use the lasso tool to select the lighting parts, then I fill it with paint bucket tool.

Then once I have everything, I use the quick selection tool on this lighting layer, and in a new layer also on linear dodge mode I use a radial gradient, drag it from the direction of the light source, you have to try it out on it's own but it usual takes me a couple of tries to get the desired intensity.

Also tbh you can just leave it like that no gradient, if pure cel shading is your goal.

I add all the extra shadows, this layer is also on hard light mode, I use the lasso tool and a normal round soft brush.

This next part is something that I sometimes do and sometimes it's not necessary, in this case since the light source is moonlight the light on the clothes should bounce off on the face so I do an extra gradient. (or just do this if you want to make it lighter lmao)

With the quick selection tool, I select either the base color or the shadow layer, and in a new layer with the linear dodge mode, I use a gradient, it has to be either a fairly dark color or a very soft gradient.

And lastly in a new layer, with linear dodge mode I use a soft edge brush on top of the lighting areas, to give it that glow.

Sometimes, like in this case, I have to use some color balance adjustments, more contrast or brightness.

And that's it. Good luck and hope this helped you, if you have any questions my inbox is open 😊

If you think oh I cant believe this creature just gave me great knowledge for free, and you want to drop a few coins in my direction here's my ko-fi

#tutorial #my christmas present to all of you 😘#actually this is a present for myself because when the inevitable question about lighting comes up I can just point to this

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ghcstao3 · 4 months

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Johnny likes art. Likes looking at it, likes creating it, likes learning about it. He’d always known he’d end up in something involving it at the end of everything, and that he does.

For a few years now, Johnny has worked as an art restorer. Primarily fixing up paintings, it’s pretty close to ideal work—he gets to study all sorts of new styles, and bring pieces back to life so they can be admired again, as they were always meant to be.

The only downside is that it’s freelance work.

At the very least, gone are the days where Johnny had to make a real effort to establish himself—but just because he gets better jobs now, doesn’t mean he gets better supervisors.

His current employer is a great example of this.

Johnny had been hired by a man named Ghost, real name unknown, to revamp a private collection of his for an absurd amount of money. Johnny would be an idiot not to accept—even when part of the terms included working onsite and with provided tools in order to get everything done.

The house—manor, more like—is beautiful, nearly as stunning as the eclectic collection or artwork Johnny is meant to repair itself. He’s greeted by a man going by the name of John Price, supposedly a dear friend of Ghost’s, here to meet Johnny since his employer wouldn’t be home for another day yet. He’s kind, not strange like Johnny thought anyone involved with this might be, and he introduces Johnny to the few pieces he’d be working with.

It’s… intriguing, to say the least. Because the pieces come from different time periods, but all look as if in the same state of decay. It’s bizarre, Johnny thinks, because all other artwork in the home is pristinely kept.

That isn’t to say he’s not grateful for this opportunity, of course.

John makes good conversation until he ultimately leaves Johnny to his own devices. First day progress is well along, and by the time Johnny is seen out, he’s feeling optimistic about this job.

Then he meets Ghost.

It’s like the atmosphere of the manor has entirely shifted around the man and his broad, imposing figure. Even eyes that share the warmth of coffee pierce through Johnny, and Johnny isn’t sure what to think of the mask that obscures most of the man’s face otherwise. His voice, low and gravelly, rumbles through Johnny as he makes inquiries about the previous day, about Johnny’s process, then dismisses him to continue his restoration.

Even though Johnny doesn’t see him again until the end of his work day, he feels like he’s being watched all the while.

The third and fourth days are the same. The fifth, Ghost surprises Johnny by sitting in the room for part of the day, though he offers no commentary between incoherent grunts and what Johnny hopes to be hums of approval.

The sixth day, Ghost asks, “What do you think happened to the artist?”

Of course, there’s no signature, so even if it was by an artist Johnny knew of, there’d be no indication.

But he considers the question anyway. Considers the painting, it’s clear inspiration in impressionism, it’s pale colours and light, flowy strokes. And yet, it seems contradictory to the style—the scene within is almost… angry, sorrowful. Like grief. Its problem had been a tear in the canvas and fading paint, nothing overly difficult or unsurprising for Johnny.

So he shrugs. He doesn’t look back at Ghost, maybe afraid of that gaze, of gauging any reaction.

“Hard to say,“ Johnny admits. “A painting doesn’t tell a whole story about its inspiration, let alone its artist. And not knowing any of the artist’s other work, or when it began and ended—it’s hard to say.”

Johnny can feel Ghost looming over him. He tries not to shrink in on himself too much, but it’s almost impossibly.

For a long moment, Ghost doesn’t speak. He barely acknowledges Johnny’s response, and Johnny wonders if he’d ever get one.

If he had said the right thing.

“Hm,” Ghost finally decides. Johnny can feel his presence straighten, putting distance between them. He says, “I’ll give you a hint.”

Johnny offers a slight nod, eyes fixed on the painting before him. He still doesn’t dare turn back. “I’m always happy to learn.”

“This artwork, everything I’ve hired you to restore,” Ghost says, “it’s all from the same man.”

Immediately, Johnny frowns. His gaze darts across the piece and the collection of others he’s meant to look at, all of completely varying styles and forms, before whirling around to ask something, anything of Ghost’s statement—but he discovers Ghost to have already left.

Well, Johnny supposes with defeat.

He doesn’t know if he should let himself become curious.

(part 2)

#um um um maybe a second part soon #(this is immortal ghost btw)#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #alternate universe #writing

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incorrectbatfam · 6 months

Note

Birdflash? Please?

How about some high school Dick and Wally

Wally fell faster, Dick fell harder.

Wally start developing feelings the first time they go on patrol with just the two of them. There was just something about watching the gears in Dick's head turning as he disabled a booby trap.

Dick wouldn't return the feelings until over year later, when they're watching a movie at the Manor and Wally dozed off halfway through, mumbling in his sleep.

They were each other's date to junior prom at both of their schools.

Dick picked Wally up in Central City on a cloaked Bat-plane and took him to dinner at an upscale place Bruce recommended, but they quickly realized that wasn't their style and slipped out to get pizza instead, even if it meant missing the first half hour of the dance.

Wally ran to Gotham, but to maintain their identities, rented a minivan to pick Dick up from the Manor because the rental place was all out of limos. He decorated it with some cardboard and paint for that extra romantic touch. Bruce wasn't pleased but Dick thought it was hilarious.

They also got part-time jobs to keep their covers (and get some experience).

Wally was a science tutor and Dick often made the trip just to pretend he didn't know what the periodic table was.

Dick worked at a fast food joint and always wrote his number on Wally's receipt with "call me" underneath.

Back in their day, queer people were still nearly unheard of and coming to terms with it, especially as a teenager, was way more difficult. Even though Bruce and Barry would be accepting, the idea of telling them was no less daunting.

A few months into dating Wally, Dick devised a multi-step plan to butter Bruce up and tell him. It included doing all the chores, ordering Bruce's favorite meal, an hour-long queer history presentation with cited sources, Barbara as his hype woman, and a fallback plan where he'd escape to a safehouse. None of that ended up happening, because before Dick could execute it, Bruce told him all about his own past with guys.

Wally came out a little later and a lot more impulsively, blurting it out while he and Barry were in the car before jumping out and speeding down the highway. Barry caught up to him an hour later in another city and assured him that everything was okay. Though, Barry wasn't thrilled about the prospect of hanging around Bruce more than he already had to.

Dick thought it'd be a good idea to sign up for debate. Wally warned him about getting overcompetitive but Dick didn't listen. Nonetheless, Wally didn't mind staying up to help organize flashcards and rehearse before a big meet.

For some reason, Wally joined band and picked the French horn. The teacher wasn't great and neither of the boys knew the first thing about how a French horn worked. At one point, Dick tried to straighten it into a regular horn in the Batcave while Wally contemplated dropping the class.

Arcade dates! Sometimes they went head-to-head. Other times, they worked in sync just like on the field. And they'd always win prizes for each other. One time they didn't win much, so they pretended to propose to each other with Ring Pops.

Another kind of date they enjoyed was teaching each other new things. Wally absorbed new information really fast and regurgitated it back when they hung out. Dick, meanwhile, had a more physical love language and liked to guide Wally's hands in guitar or batarang lessons.

Dick saved Wally's contact as "Roadrunner" and Wally saved Dick's as "Lightning Rod."

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epiicaricacy-arts · 4 months

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oh we’re still so young, desperate for attention

this was super experimental so i will talk about my process (+ clearer version) under the cut

i’ve been looking at a lot of “messier” or more textured painting styles recently and an artist that stuck out to me is clariondeluna ! they posted a self-portrait recently that i really liked and i was super interested in the brushwork seen in their work. i love all the textures and how the shapes feel so loose yet everything is so detailed.

that’s not a method for me at all!!!! i cannot paint like that at all and the stuff i like to paint is very different to theirs. which is okay!!!! i had no intention to copy this artists style so closely like with what i tried to do in my raiden painting, i just wanted to try this style out :^)

it’s been a goal of mine to avoid over-rendering like i tend to do a lot, and i think i’ve been doing good with that recently! the mindset i’ve got going on right now is that if i find myself staring at it too hard for too long, i have to leave it and move on. if there’s still something wrong with it, i can fix it later once ive got a fresh view!

i’ve been trying a lot of things with my art this year. i always try to challenge myself with each piece, and to end the year off i wanted to be as uncomfortable as i possibly could be with this painting. i let myself draw whatever i wanted because i still wanted to enjoy it, but everything i did in this process was new, including parts of the subject matter.

i’ve never drawn a head at an angle like this, and i struggle with drawing mouths open. i don’t do bold lighting like this, and if i do, it’s not fire. i’ve never drawn fire! i also rarely work with warm colours and i hate using green, so i combined those to be my colour palette. i like working cleanly so instead of having a dozen different layers for one section, each section only had 1-2 layers for rendering. instead of clipping masks i would simply paint over things loosely and clean it up later. i never like having limbs cut off in a drawing so i had his other arm go GOD knows where. i don’t like weird patterned backgrounds so i made myself figure out how to like it!

IS THIS MY FAVOURITE PIECE OF ALL TIME. no. absolutely not. but i’m very proud of how this came out with all the challenges i put on myself. i WANTED to get better at these things and be more broad with my art, both in terms of the styles and subjects i portray.

okay let’s talk about wtf this drawing is

for those who don’t know, the design in this painting is my fatui/“Father” lyney fan design (read the design post here). the concept isnt super complicated and i don’t really have much explanation for it, but i wanted to combine the story of how lyney wanted a delusion before getting his vision, fire eating circus acts and how olympic medalists will bite their medal to prove it’s real??? don’t quote me on that i’m like 75% sure that’s a thing that happens. i don’t watch sports though so im just believing someone i heard on the internet ages ago.

anyways. i think fire eating acts are cool. and i think the fact that lyney wanted a delusion is very interesting to me. scratches my brain in the right places. and yk as a magician lyneys character revolves a lot around fooling people and creating illusions so i guess what im saying here is that lyney is trying to prove to himself that this power he’s been bestowed is real. bc his whole life his only constant has been lynette so he is trying to see if he can trust this new power. cause i guess this is an alternate universe where lyney does eventually become “Father” but he never got his vision ??? idk im not making lore for this i just wanted to dress up this funny little guy.

ok i’m done

thanks for reading

here’s my dog

#my art #fanart #genshin impact #genshin fanart #lyney #genshin lyney #lyney fanart #digital art #artists on tumblr #artists of tumblr

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kozachenko · 2 months

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[Click image for better quality]

I FIGURED OUT A WAY TO FUCKING MAKE THE IMAGE SMALLER FOR POSTING ON TUMBLR WITHOUT SACRIFICING THE ACTUAL QUALITY OF THE IMAGE OH MY GOD

Ok so, what I did is go into the clip studio paint file, make a new file, copy and paste the group in the original file, merge everything, get rid of the extra stuff outside of the canvas, and then make the flattened image smaller and crop the canvas. Once you have that, export it and you're done. This helps maintain the actual quality of the image and also helps shrink the file size down to something actually postable (if anyone has a better way of doing this please tell me)

[Edit]: Ok I guess posting something to Tumblr just naturally compresses the image a bit more somehow because I'm looking at it now and zooming in too much makes it a bit blurry so I'm still gonna have to futz around with image quality for future pieces oof

Artist's Note:

I'm so glad I figured out a way to do this because I like working on a big canvas so I can get as much detail in as I possibly can. Only problems are how laggy it gets while drawing lol.

I had an idea for a drawing with Reimu and Zanmu because I really like thinking about their potential dynamic a lot. I also wanted an excuse to draw Zanmu again but in my normal rendering style because last time I drew her she was in my more sketchy style with generally flat colours so I wanted to draw her again. Speaking of, looking at the sketch for this is a jumpscare that I never enjoy seeing, like, man am I glad I didn't use those for my final piece.

Also about her spear. I was originally gonna make it like the ones she had in game, but it kinda threw off the whole piece. It was too big, too blue, and too flat, so I just went "fuck it" and gave her a different one instead. My headcanon justifying this is that the ones she uses in game are for danmaku battles whereas in any other fight she just uses a proper yari, or she still uses the yari and just makes it all glowy to power it up, maybe both lol. I pulled as much inspiration as I could from Sengoku era spears, and even put in some blue into the decorative part of the spear and also added a little skull to pay tribute to the original spear. Also, in my research I saw some art of izanami and izanagi making japan and saw that the yari izanagi has had a little decorative tassley thingy on it so I took some inspo from that and just made it one of Zanmu's tassles (Idk when that art was from or if the spear was still accurate to Sengoku period Japan but hey, probably the same reasons Eirin puts little bow ties on her arrows, it's just for personalization purposes).

I love rendering hair and clothes so much omg, while I like the super curly hair Zanmu, the longer, wavier hair suits her better for this drawing (I imagine it only does that like how Ghibli characters hair moves when they feel angry lol). I love making Zanmu's hair all messy and crazy, as well as giving her grey hairs, this woman has aged like a fine wine. Also, if the hem on the ends of her sleeves, top of her shirt, and her pants look like gold to you, that's because it is! It's fairly light so she's not collapsing under the weight, but it's gold! (I don't care how impractical it is, it's just cool). Not the undershirt though, it's made of a gold fabric. I had a cute idea with Reimu's hair to make it have a red shine to it. I also changed up Reimu's outfit so it isn't just a blob of red. I like it a lot when Reimu's skirt and outfit is segmented into different layers, so I wanted to incorporate that.

I tried to draw their hands differently as well, but IDK how noticeable that is. Also, I am super happy with how the side profiles for the two of them turned out, I used to struggle a lot with how to make the side profile of a character actually look like the character, so I'm really happy that they actually look like themselves.

Also added in the tree and rocks in the background as an homage to Zanmu's character art in Touhou 19, just because I was getting kinda stumped on what to do with the background lol.

In terms of a story idea with Reimu and Zanmu, idk why but the potential plotline of Zanmu wanting to ascend to godhood is so fascinating to me. Like, it is very possible that if she just convinced everyone she was a god (which would be very easy for her to do), she would become one in a heartbeat. Also, if she were to become a god, with her ability to return stuff to nothing, could she hypothetically get similar abilities to (Jojo Part 5 spoiler btw) GER? Like, idk about the death timeloop stuff, but the concept has been haunting me every night as I have been trying to find loopholes in GER's ability for a while now ( for no reason in particular). Back to the main topic, I imagine that she would probably tell Reimu that if she were to become a god she would take over the Hakurei shrine since the god there might as well be dead, and Reimu just says to her, "Over my dead body bitch." Like, I have no idea how to summarize their dynamic but like, it's the type of hero-villain dynamic where the phrase "We're not so different, you and I" would definitely be a phrase said during a fight. I think that if another IN style game were to release, Reimu and Zanmu would be in a team together. They could also have an interesting mentor and pupil kind of dynamic. Can you tell that Zanmu has been charging my mind rent these part few months? Like, instead of living in my head rent free, she kinda just uno reversed the whole situation and now she's the one charging me rent. What happens if I get evicted from my own brain? Actually, scratch that, I don't think I wanna know.

#touhou project #art #fanart #touhou fanart #touhou 19 #touhou #東方project #zanmu nippaku #unfinished dream of all living ghost #reimu hakurei #東方

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klausysworld · 6 months

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This request might be too much and I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. So pls ignore if it does.

My idea is Klaus x human reader. Klaus and her become close and form a friendship. She’s dating someone for 4 years now and it starts to get abusive (mentally/physically or both). She finally confides and confesses to Klaus after he notices something is off. He basically helps her get out of it when one day said boyfriend follows her into the mikaleson house and tries to get reader out of there aggressively. The mikaelson’s hear the commotion and Klaus does something.

Flash forward to Klaus and reader in an established relationship, though reader is scared to be intimate as she’s still struggling from last relationship. One day Klaus and reader are getting into it and Klaus pulls her by her ankles to bring her towards him and it triggers her fight or flight (as Klaus doesn’t know last bf used to do that when hurting reader) and so instantly she hits him in self defence and then profusely apologizes. But Klaus is just understanding and holds her and tells her he loves her and if all he gets is holding her. Then he can live with that. The way it ends can be however you want.

Just been going through some things and needed to feel and I absolutely love your style of writing.

Again pls ignore if this makes you uncomfortable, that’s not my intent! Thank you!

(Triggering content, please don't read this if it might trigger you and know that both myself and so many people are there for you to talk to)

Her protector

Klaus had been concerned for a few weeks now.

Y/n was a sweet human, she was kind even to the Mikaelsons and had become close friends Rebekah after helping her choose a necklace for a party she was hosting. Rebekah proceeded to insist that Y/n come and that she would love to make some friends here in New Orleans.

If Rebekah was honest, she was surprised when Y/n actually showed up, with a vampire boyfriend no less. Either way she showed the girl around and they got talking, drinking and dancing. Y/n's boyfriend had seemed sweet, loving and on top of that he was friends with Marcel, one of his few day-walkers.

At that point everything was still okay. Mostly.

Until Klaus had come over and attempted to flirt with Y/n. Her soft cheeks had started to turn pink when a man, a vampire, slung his arm over her shoulders from behind her and gave Klaus a threatening glare. Rebekah let out a tipsy giggle and smacked Klaus's arm

"Leave her alone Nik, she's taken and my friend" she grinned but Klaus only stared back at the other guy. Y/n glanced between the two for a second and Bex rolled her eyes. "Come on Y/n, let them gaze at one another" she laughed, grabbing her hand and pulling her away.

Klaus didn't like that anybody thought they could challenge him, he didn't care if the girl was married if he wanted to flirt with her then he would. There was no harm done but the man before him was acting as though he had slaughtered his family.

However Marcel had seen the two in a silent stare down and threw his arms over both of them "My two best guys" he grinned "Lets go get a drink"

And so somehow Klaus found himself some-what drunk and laughing with this man, it was only the next morning when after he woke did he realise the way the guy spoke about his lover was a little off. He talked like he owned her, like she was a toy.

Klaus brushed it off though, it's not like he hadn't done similar things. Besides it's not like her knew her.

Until he did. And she was so lovely that it confused him.

Often Rebekah would have her over, painting each others nails, one of those time Klaus had stumbled in covered in cuts and scrapes. Rebekah offered a tut and a shake of her head but Y/n was already at his side, her hand on his arm while she asked if he was okay.

"He's fine, it's his own fault anyway. Always starting fights" she mumbled while watching her new friend help her brother sit down. She asked Rebekah to go get him some blood which she reluctantly did, handing it to Y/n and watching in interest as she lifted it to his lips. Klaus's eyes watched her with interest as his lips wrapped around the top and he began to gulp down the red substance. She checked his wounds were healing as he drained the bag of every last drop.

She had offered to help him clean up but he shook his head and told her to enjoy her day with his sister.

After that she was always nice to him, making him a drink if she was already getting one, bringing him back to eat when her and Bex had been at a cafe or something. She would tell him his hair looked nice or that she liked certain colours on him. One way or another she always made him smile.

Y/n knew that Klaus was lonely, often sad or grumpy. She had seen it and been told it so she made an effort to brighten his days. Rebekah always said it was nice seeing her brother a little happier and she was glad that them being originals didn't put Y/n off.

Their friendship grew strong and so did Klaus and Y/n's. Until one day when Y/n's boyfriend had seen her fixing Klaus's hair, using her fingers to curl the top pieces. He didn't say anything to her then but once she came home accusations were thrown at her. She was called a cheater and a slut, desperate for attention and fucking stupid if she thought either of the Mikaelsons thought of her as anything more than a toy.

She slept on the couch, crying her eyes out and cancelling her plans with Rebekah for the next day.

She tried to spend less time with her but Bex only got upset and ended up at Y/n's house instead. Y/n thought that he wouldn't get mad if it was just Bekah and no Klaus. So she and Rebekah went to hers more often than not and the few times she went back to the abattoir she would try avoid Klaus.

She was always polite of course, smiled at him and said hello but she didn't get too close if she didn't feel that she had to. Nor did she say anything about how he looked, even when he wore her favourite henley and grew his curls a little longer.

The only times she gave him some extra attention was when he was physically injured. She couldn't help herself. She couldn't let him struggle alone and in pain. So she would be there with a warm, wet cloth wiping away any blood while she held him a blood-bag to his mouth.

"Have I upset you recently sweetheart?" he asked quietly as she cleaned the stains off his neck

"No?" she whispered and he lowered her head to look up at her and catch her eyes

"Then why won't you look at me?" he questioned and she shrugged, looking into his eyes

"I am" she stated and he hummed

"You haven't been very nice to me lately, love" he told her and she nibbled her lip nervously

"I didn't mean to upset you" she murmured but he just stared at her for a moment

"I haven't seen you around much" he muttered

"I've been at home more, Bekah comes to me instead" she mumbled, and he nodded, leaving the conversation at that.

But he didn't know that when she got home her boyfriend had her by the hair, telling her that he had seen her talking with Klaus. Seen her caressing his face and going into his room. She tried to explain that he was hurt and that she was helping him but he couldn't care less.

"Bet you were fucking helping him" he seethed "Bet he gets all pent up after starting wars. Needs to get his frustration out hm?" he laughed cruelly and she shook her head

"No, no- I would never! You know I would never-" she cried but he refused to believe her.

"You were always such a whore, can't go ten fucking minutes without begging for it" he growled, dragging her to their room. She was useless at fighting back, he was a vampire and significantly bigger than her. So when she was thrown onto the bed and grabbed tightly by the ankles, she couldn't kick at him without him snapping her legs.

She hid away after that night, telling Rebekah that she was sick and didn't want to see anyone for a few days.

But once a week had passed and her boyfriend was still angry at her no matter what she did, she knew she needed to get out and see someone or she would go mad.

Rebekah and her had gone to a coffee shop, Y/n wanted to be somewhere public and without the risk of Klaus or her boyfriend showing up.

Rebekah could tell something was wrong though, Y/n was never that quiet or skittish. She was walking a little funny and did't eat much at all. And at any mention of Klaus, Y/n shut down the conversation in seconds. It made Bex think that her brother had hurt her or scared her so when they both returned home, she began to accuse Klaus, questioning and demanding.

It only made both Mikaelsons to become worried. They didn't realise how their whispering about Y/n caught her so called lovers attention and made him go back to her furious.

He always seemed to be flooded with anger recently. He hadn't ever been so horrid for so long in the past. Accusing her of cheating was something that always had happened, his jealousy had always been an issue but never this bad. Maybe it was because he knew that Klaus wouldn’t back down if he wanted her. Maybe it was because of whatever drunken conversation the two had on the first night they met.

Either way there was no excuse.

All there was, was fear and pain. And she knew that she needed to get out. The only people who could save her from a psychotic vampire was an even worse one.

So she climbed out her own bathroom window and ran, caught a cab and then climbed in through one of the Mikaelson's windows. It was late, dark but it was the best time for her to escape. What wasn't helpful was the amount of night-walkers that were downstairs. Most of which, were close with her boyfriend so she was screwed.

However, whether it was luck or fate, Rebekah and Marcel came down the stairs, arguing which made the others scatter off. It gave her the opportunity she needed.

She darted up the stairs, as quietly as she could and to Klaus's room. Trying to open the door but it was locked making her knock quietly "Klaus?" she whispered desperately "Klaus please" she begged, her eyes leaking with tears. She banged her fist agains the wood of the door making her wince from how her wrists had been held just hours before.

A tired grunt sounded from the other side before the door was ripped open, a very annoyed hybrid on the other side though his demeanour dropped when he felt a body latch onto his, arms around his mid-section and face in his chest.

He looked down, his eyes fully open now. "Y/n?" he mumbled, his hand cupping the back of her head.

"Please help" she whispered and he gently scooped her up, flicking the lamp on and putting her in his bed. She was in. sweatpants and one of her boyfriends shirts so he assumed she must've been in bed before she came. He quickly grabbed some sleep pants to cover himself up as he was in only his boxers.

He then sat beside her, letting her pull herself closer to her with a soft cry leaving her lips. He held her close in his lap and shushed her gently "What's happened?" he asked gently but she shook her head.

It was only another minute before Rebekah was at the door, she had heard the crying and recognised it as Y/n. Her face dropped and she came rushing in. She got onto the bed as well and stroked her hair "Y/n..." she breathed, holding her hand. Klaus and her exchanged a look as they listened to her try and hiccup her tears away.

"Sweetheart it's alright" he whispered, rubbing her back under the shirt before he noticed her face scrunch in pain and he frowned. "She's hurt" he mumbled and Rebekah quickly sat up straight, lifting her top slightly despite her protests to see the bite marks in her flesh.

"Christ" Bekah gasped and Klaus's expression darkened. He lifted her up to straddle his lap sp he could have a better look at her but she began to cry out hysterically at the position and he quickly lay her back down, guilt and worry consuming him when she crawled to Rebekah instead. Bex wrapped her arms around her and whispered quietly for only Y/n to hear. "Who did this?" she uttered, her fingers gently running through her soft hair. "Was it..." she trailed, but the look on Y/n's face was enough.

"I didn't know where else to go- he knows so many people" she sobbed and Rebekah nodded

"He won't touch you now" She whispered, looking to Klaus who was halfway out the door to find Marcel. "Nik's gonna take care of it all okay?"

"What's he gonna do?"

"You don't need to know that honey" she murmured softly.

They waited for a little while, Y/n stayed in Rebekah's arms and started telling her everything that had happened. By the time she was finished they were both crying and wrapped up in Klaus's duvet

"The worst part is that...I do think that I have feelings for Klaus" she whispered "he was right-"

"It wouldn't matter if you were actually sleeping with another man, under no circumstances does he have the right to lay a hand on you. You're not any of those things he called you, you're an angel" Rebekah told her, stroking her hair gently. Bekah glanced up to see Klaus stood in the doorway, eyes soft as he made his way back over.

He had heard Y/n admit to her feelings but knew that now was not the time to tell her he reciprocated them, he knew she would need time. So instead he just came back to his bed and shifted in beside her so she was between him and Rebekah.

"He ran as soon as he saw me but I promise I'll find him and I'll kill him" he whispered, gently brushing his hand over her back. "It'll be okay, just close your eyes sweetheart, I'll protect you" he promised, sharing a look with Rebekah as they all laid down and he flicked the lamp off.

After that night, Y/n slept in Klaus's bed every night. He kept her close to him during the days too, pressed to his chest with his arm around her. She was much quieter after everything, he could sense her embarrassment but he didn’t understand it. It wasn't her fault this had happened to her. He tried to talk to her about it but she wouldn't look him in the eye and he was only making her uncomfortable so he tried not to bring it up. Instead things seemed to go back to somewhat normal, they complimented each other and had their usual conversations which were mostly about random things to keep their minds off any supernatural drama.

Klaus hadn't been going out much recently which meant she didn't have to clean him up but sometimes when they lay in bed to go sleep she would trace his face.

Everything appeared to be going well for a little while before Y/n's boyfriend showed up out of the blue. It was one of those unfortunate times that Klaus was out.

He sped behind Y/n while she was in the kitchen, slapping his hand over her mouth to silence her screaming as he lifted and dragged her toward the exit. Growling in her ear and called her a filthy whore, saying she would never escape him.

What he didn't know was that one of the other vampires saw him and were under direct orders to call Klaus if he was spotted.

Klaus came rushing in, his teeth straight in the man’s neck causing him to drop Y/n to the floor and cry out in agony as the werewolf venom too quick affect.

Klaus had Y/n in his arms within a second, vamp-speeding them to his their room. Her face was held against the crook of his neck, encouraging her to breath in his scent and calm her breathing.

“He’s gone” klaus whispers “He’ll be dead by tomorrow” he told her gently “And a werewolf bite is a slow and painful death for a vampire” he reminded. “He deserves to suffer” he muttered and she nodded slowly.

“I hate him” she uttered.

“I know you do sweetheart” he mumbled as he pressed soft kisses to the side of her head.

Everything was a little better after his body was found. She felt safe in the house without the risk of him grabbing her. She was able to sit with Klaus and Rebekah without the worry of someone watching her.

But it didn’t stop the night terrors. She would wake up screaming thinking that he had come back to life and had taken her, tortured her. Instead, however, she would find Klaus. Out of breath with a healing bruise on his face from where she hand fought back in her sleep. The apologies would start tumbling amongst her sobs but he would just pull her close and kiss her better. Promising it didn’t hurt and that he understood.

Often he would go into her mind, with her permission, and give her better things to think about. Give her peace.

That helped her a lot, between Klaus’s affection and Rebekah’s constant company, she began to feel happy.

She and Bekah went shopping a lot, went out for lunch again or just sat in Bex’s room talking and giggling. They both felt as though they had gained a sister of sorts. Rebekah was so glad to have Y/n and to be able to help her, she also really hoped that Y/n and Klaus would get married so that they were sister-in-laws.

Rebekah was their biggest supporter, always telling Y/n that Klaus wouldn’t ever hurt her and that he already loved her so she didn’t have to worry about the rejection. But Y/n was still nervous, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for another relationship.

But eventually, months down the line, kisses on the head became kisses on the lips. Their hugs became cuddle sessions and instead of eating in the same room they cooked together and ate together. Klaus planned extravagant dates while Y/n arranged much simpler but just as intimate ones. Klaus would beg Y/n to let him paint her and she begrudge dress up for him and pose.

The only issue in Y/n’s mind was that she didn’t feel comfortable enough when Klaus would touch her more sexually. As soon as the gentle touches became more frustrated, more needy, she couldn’t handle it.

But over time she got a little better, heavy make-out sessions became more and more common and part of her thought that maybe sex was on the table until something triggered her.

Klaus had his hands all over her, his tongue in her mouth as she moaned softly. Her hands were curled into his soft curls as she tugged gently. His hands slid up her top and her back arched slightly. Everything was going well, her legs were round his waist and soft little pleas left her lips for him to give her more.

He pulled away slowly, his nose just brushing hers as he sat up. He smiled down at her as she followed suit and sat up with him, her legs dropping down.

“You ready sweetheart?” He whispered and she nodded, his smile widened and he took ahold of her ankles. Just as he went to pull her closer, a panicked cry left her and her foot kicked him in the chest, hard.

His hands let go of her and he held his chest in confusion before looking up and seeing the fear in her face. His expression softened and he raised his hands in surrender “Y/n, love, it’s just me” he told her gently. “It’s okay” he whispered, cautiously he shifted closer.

“I’m sorry” she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears “I’m so sorry” she repeated, pulling her knees to her chest.

Gently he brought his hands out and picked her up, pulling her onto his lap “it’s okay, it was my fault” he mumbled, kissing her lips gently

“It’s not your fault- it’s mine, I’m broken” she cried but she shook her head.

“It’s his fault” he whispered and she let out a soft sob. “He hurt you, but you’ve never been broken. You’re just still hurting”

She sniffled and nuzzled close “I just…I wish could-“

“I know…I know but we can wait. We can wait for as long as you need” he murmured softly.

“But…what if I can’t…like ever?” She whispers but still he smiled

“Then I’ll just hold you and kiss you and take you to dinner like usual. I believe I owe you a bouquet of flowers, no?” He hummed and she wiped her eyes with a sniff

“You do?”

“I do, come on, we’ll go pick a bunch” he held her close and lifted her as he stood, carrying her down the stairs listening to her little laugh as she pressed her face to his chest. She knew not many men would be as loving and understanding as he was, she knew Klaus wouldn’t hurt her nor would he ever leave her.

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fl3shm4id3n · 6 months

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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐰𝐧. 𝐀𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: (ᴘᴀꜱᴛ) ᴀꜱᴛᴀʀɪᴏɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴀꜱᴛᴀʀɪᴏɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ᴛᴀᴠ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: Star-crossed lovers concept, Cazador, vampirism, medieval sexism, abuse of any kind, manipulation , blood, torture, torment, violence, suicide attempt/mentioned, mentions of intimacy, death, murder, stake to the heart, angst, reincarnation. Not edited, pictures ain't mine, I got them off Pinterest.

Masterlist

Your whole life changed when your parents had sent you off to marry some Lord known as Cazador. He had been in search for a concubine. It was pretty normal for noble men to have a concubine. He could have as many as he could afford. Your parents were thrilled by the idea of you, their only daughter being with a powerful Lord. As much as you didn't to, you had to. It was your duty as their child to follow their orders. Whatever they say, goes. It was settled then, you were going to become Lord Cazador's concubine for as long as he lives. That day that you left your home, was the same day you never saw your parents again. His castle was strange, his servants were strange. They were like puppets that only followed their master's word.

The first couple months weren't so bad. Cazador was respectful, and he had given you time to adjust to your new life. He had began to spoil you, giving you things that you'd never thought you've ever see in your eyes. From the finest tailored dresses, to jewelry, makeup, books, and so on. You were basically given the life that many girls would dream off. Despite all that, it still felt strange, as if something was wrong, but you didn't put to much mind into it. You passed it as if you were home sick. As much as you tried to ignore it, the worry got bigger, as if it was a weight on your shoulders getting much heavier and heavier throughout the weeks. One night Cazador had decided to make you his. You felt nervous since you've never been with a man in your life. But that night, would be the one you'd remember for the rest of your immortal life.

Its already been years, those years became centuries. You were still Cazador's concubine. Everyday you'd wake up and just have the though of what Cazador would have planned that night. It was a routine that just kept on going. You'd wake up, and have the maid spawns come dress you. You no longer had a choice on what you could wear. It was all Cazador, he'd pick everything about your look for the night, from dresses, shoes, makeup art, hair style, jewelry and hair. Everything was either a blood red or black. His favorite colors. If you refused to wear what he'd pick out for you, then you'd wear nothing. You'd remain bare until you've learn to appreciate what he does for you. That was a way to manipulate you, he made you think that he did so much for you and the least you could do is learn to be more appreciative of what he has given you.

Its been a while since you've seen your reflection. You've almost forgot how you'd look like. Sometimes you'd spend hours and hours looking in the mirror, trying to form on how you'd look like before, but nothing. You'd just see the furniture in your room along with other things in the room. As some kind of gift, Cazador had commissioned a painting of you, he's often tell how generous he was and how he didn't have to do this. You were dressed like the night that you had been turned into a vampire spawn. Sitting still as the artist painted your every detail. You'd look at that picture as if it was the only thing keeping you alive. That painting made you remember on how your face might have looked like. But there was one thing that you didn't like, and that was the scar on your left side of your neck. It was a scar, caused by Cazador's bite of that night. It may have been a small detail, but it was noticeable. It was also some kind of reminder of what he had done to you. Everything you'd see that small bit of the painting, you'd feel a sharp pain on your neck, right on your now scarred side. Sometimes you wish you could cover it, but due to the dresses you wore, you weren't able to.

Whenever you'd disagree with Cazador on something, he'd threated to burn the picture and to never get you a new one. You'd often cry and beg on your knees for him not to do it, also to forgive you for speaking out of term. He seemed to love making you cry, he'd watch how the makeup would roll down your cheeks, messing it up and how you were on your knees with your head on the floor, begging or how'd you'd hug his knees and cry in desperation. It was some kind of sickening pleasure of his. He also love to torment you to the point that you have a breakdown. It would happen constantly, you'd never catch a break.

Not only that, but you were force to learn how to play instruments. As a way to entertain yourself and Cazador. When it came to string instruments, he'd have you play for hours and hours until your hands sore. If you'd mess up a note, you were force to restart and play the instrument until the tips of your fingers bled, even your nails would break and dig into your already cut and bleeding skin. When you were done, your hands would be shaking and raw, with blood running down your hands and fingers. You also liked to embroid, or at least he liked how you'd embroid. If he didn't like the work, he'd have you start all over again, or he'd make you sew until you hands were weak. He just loved seen you in pain. He loved watching you tear up as you sewed and played instruments, in pain. As a way to 'heal' you, Cazador would lick and bite at your bleeding fingers, to add to the pain.

Some nights you wished you could just walked into the sun, but that was impossible. Most of the night you'd be in your room. For hours, only coming out when Cazador would want you to, he'd basically keep you locked in. You barely spook to the spawns at times. Sometimes you'd write down notes and slide them under the door for the spawns to see. This was a form of punishment, even though you didn't do anything to get punished. Not just that but the only way for you to have blood was by begging for him to allow you to feed, he'd leave you starving for days until you were fed up and needed a doze of blood. But he'd have you drink the blood from his mouth, as much as you didn't want to, you did. You had the choice to just stop feeding and either go insane and violent. But you knew he wasn't going to allow you to do that. If you attempted to, it'd become worse.

One night things were different, Cazador had been gone for a while. You assumed he was probably looking for another mortal to fall for his trap and make him another spawn. That night you were in your room again, looking at the empty mirror as if you were trying to find yourself again, but you knew that was useless. Then Cazador bursted in the room. Causing you to flinch an grip onto your clasped hands much harder, digging your nails into your skin, fearing that he might due something to you, again. Then he introduced you to his new spawn. A man. He was in his late thirties, with brown hair, pale complexation, green eyes and his clothes were dirty, as if he was covered in dirt. You noticed that his right side of his neck had wound, a bite. That was already scaring. The other spawns didn't have those markings. Except for you and now him. You learned that his name was Astarion.

Once you were introduced, he made his new spawn get on his knees and kiss the toe of your shoe. This was something he'd have his spawns do, just to see them on their knees, humiliating themselves, by kissing the toes of your shoes. You'd often say that you were his one and only high raking 'Spawn Concubine'. As much as you didn't want him to go through that humiliation, he did so anyways. He already seemed scared of Cazador and what he'd do if he didn't do what he wanted. As he began to get up from his knees, you and him locked eyes. You could see the fear in each other's eyes, as if it was reflecting. You were both scared of him. And he knew it. Not only that, but he loved to see the fear that you both had.

That same night in your room, you could hear the screaming happening in the cellar and the smell of blood. You could hear how Cazador was already 'branding' his knew spawn, just like the others. You didn't get branded like they did, he'd explained to you that you're above the spawns and there for you shouldn't be branded, besides. He had already branded you. It was a reminder on your neck. For the attire night you could hear the screams echoing through the castle, as much as you wanted to not hear it, you weren't able to muffle out the noises. You felt horrible not being able to stop Cazador's torture. Last time you attempted to, was bad.

Then Cazador had come up with a great idea, his new pet, would now be in charge of going out and bringing back a prey for him and you feed on. He believed that Astarion had the perfect face to lure in any person he got his eyes on. Astarion tried to refuse and disobey, as a punishment, he locked him up in a cellar for over a whole year. With no light what so ever. You had tried and asking Cazador to please let him out, but he refused to listen. You were his concubine, not his wife. He never made you his wife, because he knew that if he did, he'd have to treat you as his equal. So he never married you, he only kept you as his concubine, as his possession for his pleasures. Finally, Astarion had been out of the cell, except his appearance changed. His once brown hair was now white and his once green eyes were now a blood red. That whole year in the cellar had changed him. Since then on, he began to obey his master.

So he began to bring back a prey, either a man or a woman. Cazador would be pleased with this, and would 'reward' him by giving him a rat to feed of. If Astarion refused to eat the rat, then he'd be killed by the other brainless spawns. You and Cazador would feed from the victim, together. He'd go for the neck and you'd go for the wrists, you were never allowed to go for the neck, if you did. Then you'd be punished severely. He'd just add that you should be greatful that you're allowed to feed. Some victims he'd keep as his spawns and others he'd kill just for his fun. This went on for a couple of years.

During those years, you had actually grown close to Astarion. You knew he only did what he did for survival, like you. You normally wouldn't ask Cazador for anything, but you had asked him if Astarion could he your personal servant, when he isn't out getting a prey. He found it odd, but allowed it. He saw no harm in that. So you had Astarion be with you for most of the evening and nights he wasn't out. He was shy at first, he thought that you too were like Cazador, due to his master's concubine and because you had a much higher rank. Except you were different. You too were a victim, except you weren't treated as a spawn, but a possession.

Him and you did a lot of things that you'd normally do on a daily. When you'd practice playing an instrument, Astarion would watch and listen to you. He too began to learn to play when you had offered to teach him. Same with reading, you'd read him books that Cazador had given you throughout the centuries. This was something new to Astarion, ever since he was brought by Cazador, he'd be constantly tormented by him. Until you had stepped in and asked for him to be with you at all times. When he wasn't out. Not only that, but you were kind to him, at first he thought you were the same as his master, but no. You were way different than the man you both feared.

Astarion loved to spend his time with you, it gave him some reason to not give up. Your kindness was keeping him alive in a way. At times when you weren't together, he'd be staring at the painting of you, hanged in the middle of the stairs of the castle. The way that you were painted was angelic like, you looked like a Queen. But he also noticed the same scar on your neck. Of course he knew that it was Cazador's doing. Besides that, you were just so beautiful. He almost couldn't believe that you were kind to him. Every time he'd be back from getting a prey, he always looked forward into being with you for a couple of days.

You were surprised Cazador had allowed this in the first place. Because you were often kept isolated front he other spawns and weren't really allowed to form any kind of friendship with them. That's the biggest reason why you'd be locked up in your room and barely able to speak with them. But Astarion seemed to be the only one you were allowed to speak to, for a while before he becomes a brainless spawns like the others. You hoped that it didn't lead to that. You really liked your new friend, it was as if you and him had formed a bond. A friendly one at that, but you felt more towards the now white haired male. It felt wrong in a way, but at the same time.

That evening was a nice one, you were doing your needle work with Astarion. Working on a black shirt that belonged to Cazador. You were sewing with a gold colored threat. Making flowers. That night Astarion didn't have to go to get prey. It was a nice and quiet, and no Cazador lurking by, since he had to take care of some 'business'. You were used to him disappearing out of nowhere with the excuse of being busy. You were to focused on the peacock you were working on while Astarion tried to follow your lead. You began to teach him how to embroider since he had asked and he was curious on your handy work. He had seen your work, specially on his Master's clothing.

Astarion was focused on the cloth in the hoop, trying to match the flower that you were making. Then he pinched his finger with the needle. Hissing in pain and dropping the hoop. You stopped what you were doing, looking over to him. You placed the shirt down and moved over towards Astarion. "Let me see." You said, then you took his bleeding finger into your hands too look at it. "I'm fine my lady." He said, respectfully. Watching you care for his pricked finger. You then leaned down and gave his injured finger a kiss. He felt his face heat up, by this gesture. You've done this so many times, and yet it feels like the first time. You didn't seem to mind getting blood on your perfectly red painted lips. You looked over at him and smiled. "Better?" you asked him, seen the flush look on his face, he nodded almost shyly like the first time you met.

You both locked eyes. Remaining frozen as you both looked at one another. You didn't even realize how you and him began to lean into one another. Slowly closing your eyes, then you both kissed. Your cold lips molding into one another's, softly. You've never been kissed this nice and sweet before. Cazador was rough and impressment. But Astarion? He was slow and passionate. You placed your hands on his shoulders, as a way to hold onto each other. He then snaked his hand at the back of your head, carefully holding your head up. Not wanting to mess up your perfectly combed hair with many hair pens and other flowers adorned to it.

The kiss was short, you pulled away and looked at him. He did the same. You didn't have to exchange words, it was clear that you and him loved that kiss. And you wanted to kiss him again. So you did, you kissed him again, a bit more eager this time. He followed your lead. You both completely forgot about what you were doing before. Now you were focused on this. You laid your body on the soft cushion of the couch. Pulling Astation on top of you. He didn't hesitate to get on top of you. He placed himself between your legs. As he continued to kiss you, more deeply. Then you ran your hand up his white shirt, feeling his cold skin against your cold fingers. Slightly touching his scarred back. Asatrion was too caught up in the moment to care, he took began to slide his hand up your skirt. Feeling your soft and delicate skin. He then pulled away and look at you.

You had a look of concern. "I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?" you asked nervously. "No, it's just. I don't want to take advantage of you. I wouldn't want to do something that might hurt you." He explained, you knew what he said was true. You placed your hands on both sides of his cheeks. "It's okay, I want this to happen. But if you don't, then I understand." You responded, with a small smile, as a way to comfort him. "I do too, but before we go any further. Please tell me that I have your consent. I wouldn't want you to be hurt... like he has hurt you..." he said worriedly. It was no secret that Cazador always got what he wanted no matter what. You understood why he'd ask for your consent. "You have my consent, but I have yours?" You asked him, it was only fair that you'd asked for his since he asked for yours. Astarion gave you a genuine smile. "Yes, you have my consent." He responded. Then you and him went back into kissing on another. You were too focused on one another that you didn't even noticed that you were actually being watched.

It's been a while since that happened. You'd think about that night a lot. You've never been intimate with anyone, besides Cazador. But this was a new form of intimacy, Astarion actually cared about what you wanted. Unlike his Master who didn't care about anyone but himself. You felt shivered running up your spine, just thinking about Astarion's hands touching your cold skin again. As much as you wanted to do it again, you didn't want to get caught but Cazador and have Asatrion be punished. If anything, you'd be the one to take the punishment instead of him.

Then the doors of your quarters were open, it was Cazador, he looked much calm, very calm. It was almost concerning. "My dear, may I have a word with you?" He asked, you felt a lump build up in your throat and you got nervous. "Yes, what is it?" You asked him, trying to remain calm as possible. "I've heard something from one of the Spawns. That you and Astarion engaged in something, that didn't involve, embroidery." This made your non beating heart sink, now he knew. "Just say yes or no. No need for an explanation. Just yes or no will be fine." He explained to you. There was no hiding it, he knew and you know what happens when you lie to him.

Taking a deep breath, you answered. "Yes, we did, what you think we did." You responded. Cazador only nodded, then he walked closer to you, taking your hands and brought you up from the bed. He looked at your eyes for a moment, then he leaned in for a kiss. That was odd, he was calm? You thought, as he continued to kiss you. Then he pulled away, placing his hand on your cold cheek affectionately. You only stared at him, confused. "How I'm going to miss those eyes." He said, only making you even more confused. Then your eyes widen and tears developed in your eyes. A strong pain grew in your chest.

Looking down, you saw a wooden stake, piercing through the red decorated fabric of the gown. Blood already pooling on your chest. You looked back at Cazador who had a look of displeasure, with the stake in his hand. He pushed it further and pushed you down, making you whimper. Then you fell to your right side, you were having a hard time breathing in pain. You touched the now bloodied stake. Attempting to pull it out, but it was no use, you'll be dead in a bit. Your hands were shaking aggressively. Laying on your back, in pain and tears pooling in your eyes. As you tried to keep your eyes open, it was no use. You were growing weaker by the minute, the last thing you saw was Cazador watching you die as someone had come in to the courters.

As soon as Astarionn saw you on the floor, bloodied. He couldn't help but feel a wave of shock grow in his eyes. He covered in mouth in disbelief. Seen your now deceased corpse on the floor. With a stake to your heart and blood on your beautiful gown. He didn't hesitate going over and pulling you towards him. "No no, my lady." He whimpered, trying to see any sign of life, but nothing. You were gone, forever. "Be grateful that it wasn't you. I wouldn't want to loose you too soon now." Cazador taunted at him. Astation was more focused on you. He felt all sorts of emotions going on in his mind. All he could do is hug you close to him, holding your head near his lips. Trying to process what was happening. He had accidently touched the blood that was pooled on your gown and accidently smeared it on your left side of your face. He couldn't believe what was happening.

He stayed frozen with your body in his arm. Mumbling that he was sorry many times. Wishing that you'd wake up at any moment now. But now, you remained limp, not moving one inch. You were gone, the love of his life, was gone. He was forced by Cazador to let go of your body, he didn't want to. He too wanted to get flayed just to be with you again, but he knew that his master will not allow it. Your body had been burned, along with most of your belongings and such. As a way to erase you for good. Despite burning everything that you owned, that was not going have Astarion forget about you.

Two centuries had already passed and Astarion had still not forgot about you. You were in his mind for ages, he still remembered your face, smell, voice, everything. He was not going to allow your memory of you to be forgotten. The painting of you had been moved into Cazador's quarters since he had decided to keep it as his biggest trophy. Astarion had got a few glimpses of the painting when entering the room, he hated the fact that he painting was moved. But one night, he got a small sheet of paper and pain, drawing only your face on the painting. He did a decent job drawing your features, they weren't the best, but he did what he could. He also left out the scar on the left side of your neck, knowing that you didn't like that scar. He kept the picture with him at all times. He would spend hours and hours looking at it. He'd tear up almost all the time, allowing his tears to land on the soft vanilla colored paper. Often wishing that it was him who got staked instead of you. You didn't deserve to die so coldly by HIM.

Then he got captured by the mindflayers and things headed towards another direction. He was taken far from Baldur's Gate, with a tadpole inserted in his brain and now he had to find a way to get rid of it. Just great, that's exactly what he just needed. Then he came across a party of people. Maybe he could join them and help them get back to Baldur's Gate, as well as whatever needed to get done. Perhaps he could use his charm for his advantage. It was an easy plan, but then, he set his eyes on their leader. He couldn't believe it, was it possible You had the face of someone he knew, someone he loved many centuries ago. Perhaps, you may remember him in a way? Or did your new life had made you forget about him? Whatever it was, he wanted to be with you in your new life, maybe he could protect you better or even start an actual relationship with you, but will he fall for you or the person that you once were?

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stayteezdreams · 6 months

Text

Hold Still

Plot: Wooyoung asks you to do his makeup for a costume party, but it's only an excuse to get close to you.

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Gn!Reader (established relationship)

Prompt: 'Trying to paint their face but they won't stop trying to kiss you' -- Requested By: @tumbleboof

Warnings: Slightly suggestive content + Kissing.

Words: 1.2k

As you looked over all of the makeup you had set out on the counter, making sure you had brought everything, Wooyoung watched you with an adoring and excited smile.

He knew you would say yes to helping him with his makeup for the party. And the excitement you showed only made him even happier that he asked.

The makeup he wanted wasn't complicated, just the basic dead, pale zombie style, with a few of your own personal touches thrown in. When you asked why he wanted your help rather than just doing it himself, he said that he would make it look bad.

You didn't necessarily disagree with this, so you decided you would help him.

Truthfully, Wooyoung was going to do it himself, he didn't mind how it looked all that much. But he wanted an excuse to be around you.

With how busy he had gotten, he hadn't been able to spend as much time with you as either of you wanted. And Wooyoung was getting...needy.

"Okay, ready?" You asked as you looked over at him.

He smiled and nodded, doing as you instructed as you began to prep his face.

You were fully aware of how Wooyoung's eyes never left your face. You also noticed the smirks he gave you when you got particularly close to him, and how his hands would gently hold of touch your legs or waist.

He was always like this with you, so it didn't feel particularly new. However, as time went on Wooyoung began making your job a lot more difficult.

Leaning close to apply vein-like details around his eye, Wooyoung took the opportunity to strike.

The second you looked away from him to grab something he smirked knowingly. As you looked back, you felt his lips press against yours, catching you off guard.

You blinked in surprise as he grinned proudly. You let out a soft laugh and shook your head a bit before continuing with his makeup.

You mistakenly expected it to be a one-time thing, but before you could even finish one detail of his makeup, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the side of your mouth.

"Wooyoung." You grumbled as you tried not to ruin the makeup.

He giggled softly, which you had to admit, made your heart flutter.

"What? I can't kiss my partner?"

"You can, just not when I'm trying to do your makeup."

He pouted, "That's no fun."

The third time, you saw it coming. You saw the way his eyes flicked to your lips, then to your hands. The second he moved, you stood up making him almost lose his balance as he collided with nothing but air rather than your face.

He met your eyes and saw the smirk on your face as he pouted dramatically.

"Heyy!."

"What?" You asked innocently, making him laugh in frustration.

The fourth time, you caught him again, but this time, by placing your hand to stop him.

"Hold still."

He groaned and stomped his feet a bit, "Y/nnnn"

"Wooyouuung" You mocked his tone. "Unless you want to look like a Nosferatu reject, let me finish." You chuckled.

As you began applying makeup to his lips, he kept pulling away with fits of giggles. "It tickles!"

You laughed but grabbed his chin to keep him close to you. "I said hold still."

You saw the spark in his eye as you did this, but ignored it.

Making the mistake of looking away to get more product, you shouldn't have been surprised when you felt his lips smash into yours when you looked back.

Instead of a quick peck however, his hand cupped your chin as he kissed you deeply.

When he pulled away with a grin, you immediately saw the smeared makeup and groaned, knowing you would now not only have to fix it, but remove the makeup from your face as well.

He laughed at the sight of makeup on our lips, once again proud of his actions, as you smacked his arm playfully.

"I'm never helping you with your makeup again."

"Aww, come on!" He said happily as he pulled you towards him, making you sit in his lap.

You tried to glare at him, but the pull of your lips was too obvious as he giggled, pressing a kiss to your cheek and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"You can't escape now!"

"Well then I guess you are going to the party like this."

You showed him his face in a small mirror and he laughed, seeing just how much he smeared his makeup.

"You can fix it like this can't you?" He asked with a twinkle in his eye as he squeezed you softly, not wanting you to move.

You rolled your eyes but grinned, feeling butterflies at his need for playful affection.

"Fine, but I swear to G-'"

"I'll be good." He cut you off with a grin you didn't believe for a second.

"Mhhmm, you better."

"Or what?" He challenged and you glared playfully at him.

"Or else I'll apply the rest of your makeup with permanent marker."

He laughed at your threat, watching you lovingly as you finished applying his makeup.

"You know I asked you to do this so I could spend time with you right?"

You grinned as you nodded, "Yes, I know. That's why I agreed to it too."

He grinned and leaned forward but you caught his eye with a small "Tsk".

He pressed his lips into a thin line and you couldn't repress a chuckle. Leaning forward, you pressed a soft and fast kiss to his lips, hoping the makeup had dried enough to not transfer.

Wooyoung grinned at the action as his hands squeezed your waist in delight. Looking over at the makeup, his eyes lit up as he got an idea.

"Can I do your makeup?"

"Absolutely not."

"Aww, why?"

"One, it will never get done because you won't stop trying to kiss me. And two, you have no idea how to do it, I'll end up looking like some Ronald McDonald rip-off."

He frowned, wanting to argue, but decided against it, knowing you were probably right.

"Fine." He sighed, admitting defeat.

You smiled at his tone as you set your brush down. "Done!"

He grinned happily as he looked at himself in the mirror.

"I knew you'd do a great job!" He said cheerfully, before he looked back at you with a more serious gaze.

"What?"

Leaning closer he whispered. "Hold still."

The seriousness of his tone caught you off guard as you froze. He hooked his fingers under your chin and pressed a kiss to your lips. He made sure not to give into his desire fully, not wanting to ruin your work again.

Pulling away, you saw a familiar twinkle in his eyes that made your stomach swirl. He swiped his thumb over your lips to get rid of any color that transferred.

He met your eyes and hummed. "I'm tempted to blow the party off."

You let out a soft laugh "And let all my hard work go to waste?" You shook your head and he chuckled.

"Fine, but you're all mine when we get home alright?"

You laughed as you nodded your head, "Deal."

xx End xx

General Taglist: @otsilliak, @brattybunfornct, @bahng-chrizz, @otakutrash669

Ateez Taglist: @soso59love-blog, @thunderous-wolf

#jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung/reader #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung/reader #ateez x reader #ateez/reader #wooyoung imagine #ateez imagine #wooyoung halloween fic #wooyoung fluff #ateez fluff #jung wooyoung fic #ateez fanfic #13 Days of Halloween #stayteezdreams 13 days of halloween #wooyoung x gn!reader #ateez fic #ateez halloween

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wynnyfryd · 3 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 48

part 1 | part 47 | ao3

cw: mentions of smoking/sexual activity

Chapter 11

February

For two and a half months, Steve’s life goes perfectly. He didn’t realize how far into a pit he’d fallen until Eddie showed up to help Robin and the kids lift him out, but the difference is jarring. Golden hour sunlight after catching a matinée.

Steve spends two months blinking.

He sloughs off his sadness like a snake shedding skin; spends the winter getting back to being Steve, restocks his favorite hair products and restarts his fitness routines — morning runs through the woods, afternoon pick-up games with Lucas and some of his teammates when the weather doesn’t suck. Weightlifting in the evenings because Eddie says he likes how Steve’s arms look when they get a little big, says it’s more fun to pin him down when he knows it’s just for show.

And he tries new things, too, just because Eddie likes them or because the kids think they're cool. He reads a Vonnegut novel. He eats Indian curry. He even learns a song on guitar.

...Sort of.

Eventually.

(Actually, that whole thing goes pretty horribly and takes for-fucking-ever. Eddie spends an afternoon patiently encouraging him and doing his best not to tease while Steve clumsily moves through a beginner chord progression, and then breaks down wheezing when, after the sixth attempt with no improvement, Steve puts the guitar down in a huff and threatens to demote his pinky finger from his hand if it doesn't start cooperating. Eddie laughs so hard he tips face-first into Steve's crotch, and it takes them a sticky-spitty-sweaty half hour to get back to the lesson.)

Anyway, he likes the way their lives entangle. As easy as weaving his hands through Eddie’s hair.

He gets invited to band practice; he sits in on D&D. Sometimes he watches sports with Wayne when he's got a day off, then he heads out with Eddie for long joyrides through the countryside.

Eddie blasts his metal music when they get out to the backroads, and he talks too loudly over the bass and laughs even louder and rants about nothing and smokes cigarettes while he headbangs to his favorite guitar solos — almost lights his hair on fire on more than one occasion, fucking dumbass — and he does this silly, lewd shit that makes Steve's chest just ache. Makes it clench around the word that's been burning a hole in his tongue since New Year's Eve. Eddie wags his brows and palms himself through his jeans and asks if Steve wants to take another joyride when they get home, and Steve thinks:

God, I love you.

I love you.

How could I not love you?

And really, how could he not? And how much longer can he keep not telling him so? When it feels like the word is going to burst out of his chest Alien-style any second.

When it feels like Eddie's the reason he even has a home to get to.

Slowly — so slowly, hours spent thrifting and bartering and keeping an eye out for free stuff left out on the curb, even more hours sanding and painting and caulking and sweating to death between trips to the hardware store — they redo Steve's whole trailer. Floor to ceiling, wall to wall, they exorcise the haunted tin can. They make it his; they make it theirs.

Eddie injects life into every inch of the space, fills it with weird art and funky lamps and a big, comfy leather couch that he likes to bend Steve over. Comes inside him in every room when they get done working on it as a reward; gasps in Steve's ear about how he always wants to be inside him: in his home, in his body, nestled deep inside his heart. "Keep me right here, baby," he breathes as he fucks Steve against a wall, his left hand gripping Steve's chest while he fills him from behind.

It’s perfect.

It's perfect.

Everything is beautiful and nothing hurts unless Steve asks.

And then, because this godforsaken town and everyone in it are fucking cursed, one day it isn’t anymore.

—

part 49

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my fic #oh giant joseph head we're really in it now

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writingsbychlo · 1 year

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surprise | cassian

summary; on starfall evening, you plan on revealing some big news, and giving cassian a very special gift.

word count; 4581

notes; this week was so insanely busy for me so I fell behind on these fics, but let's try and catch up at least a little bit, so here's day four!

As you stood in front of the mirror, smoothing a hand over the indistinguishable bump on your midriff, the smile forming on your lips was beyond your control. In the connecting bathroom, humming away to himself as he styled his hair was the love of your life, every inch of thick and terrifying General absolutely adorable to you as he prepared himself for the night ahead, streaks of excitement bursting down the bond to you every now and again.

You hoped the life growing inside of you got his passion for life, and his love of all the little things. One of the parts of Cassian you’d fallen hardest for was his ability to always find some kind of silver lining, to find a way to make even an empty glass seem half-full, to put a positive spin on any bad situation. He made every problem a joint challenge, he made every fear a shared worry, he made everything so much easier.

There wasn’t a single doubt in your mind that he would be a wonderful father, just as he had been a wonderful boyfriend for years, a fantastic friend for centuries before that, and a good man for his entire life. If anyone deserved the kind of joy you knew your reveal would bring, it was Cassian.

For almost two years you’d been talking about having children, trying for a little warrior he could call his own, if the adoration he showered down on his nephew was anything to judge by. For six years, Cassian had loved Nyx like his own child, and almost three years ago, after the candles had been blown out and you’d been half asleep, Cassian had nervously whispered his desire for his own child. Three months ago, that wish had finally come true.

It was far too special to just blurt out, and so you’d waited. You’d suffered through every minute of just wanting to burst it out to him, to save it, to make it truly special. Luckily, you’d managed to make it to this evening without your scent changing breaking through, or your bump coming in early.

As Cassian stepped out, eyes scanning over the simple underwear set and somehow managing to make you feel sexy even in that, you tried desperately to fight the sudden burst of excitement. By the time the two of you went to bed tonight, Cassian would know he was going to be a father.

Every nerve seemed to leave your body as he let out an appreciative hum, gaze raking you in the same way you were for him. He’d tied his hair back in a neat bun behind his head, and trimmed and neatened the overgrown hair along his jaw that you loved so much. Dressed in smart dress pants and a black silk button-up that he’d purposefully left undone by a few buttons, chest hair on show, he was a sight to behold. Even more so as you watch him strap on just two of his siphons, one over the back of each hand, expertly clasping them without needing help.

“You’re staring, y’know.” His cocky tone made your gaze snap back up to his face, tongue sticking out childishly, and he only grinned in return. “Shall I pose for Feyre to paint? Then you can stare all day long, and never tire of it. Maybe I’ll post nude.”

Heat flushed your cheeks, but a smile crawled over them all the same, matching his joke-filled attitude. Cassian picked up your dress, admiring it before himself, before making his way over and stopping behind you. His eyes met yours in the mirror, a much more intimate smile on his lips now as his large form swamped yours, and he dipped to press a kiss to each of your shoulders.

With matching kisses all the way down your spine until he was braced on one knee, he unzipped the dress, before holding it open for you to step into. One foot at a time, you did, and he began to smooth the grown slowly up your body, inch at a time. Both arms in and the material settled over your frame, he ran a single knuckle along the trail his lips had traced along your back, to grip the zip at the bottom. Slowly, it crawled up the tracks, getting tighter and tighter around your stomach until it paused.

You’d had the dress made months ago, before you’d even fallen pregnant at all, and even though you weren’t obviously showing yet, you were beginning to fill out just slightly. Last week, you’d been able to get this dress on alone, with no struggle. Now, Cass had to give a little extra tug to keep the zip moving. Your lips flickered at the edges, biting your tongue to hide a comment about how fast your baby was growing, and how large they were sure to be, just like their father.

Cassian, clearly misinterpreting the look on your face, spun you around as soon as the dress was fastened, pulling you in until his lips could brush your hairline lovingly. “All that extra training, doll. Got this pretty ass even thicker for me to hold onto.”

He made a point of squeezing your ass in both hands until you smiled, head tipping up to steal a kiss from his lips. The look he gave you was wrapped in sin and lust, and you had to fight back the urge to jump on him then and there, knowing that look was exactly how you ended up this way in the first place.

Instead, you tutted at him, pulling away and chuckling at his groan, only to reach out to hold his arm in support as you tucked your feet into your heels. Soon enough, your feet would be too swollen and you’d be too unbalanced to wear anything but your slippers, so you fully intended to make the most of these shoes while you could.

With hands wrapped tightly together, you cast one last look at your underwear drawer, a surprise for later tucked neatly inside, as he turned off the lights and led the two of you away to the party.

When you arrived, the rest of your family was already there, but you’d expected as much. Cassian was nothing if not a drama queen when it came to his appearance for these events, even if it was family only. He spent so much time messy, un-groomed, wrapped in dirty leathers and covered in sand and sweat, you didn’t blame him for enjoying a little primping when the time presented itself.

With the greetings done, Cassian turned to you, lips on the shell of your ear, “What can I get you to drink, baby?”

“Just water, I think,” You hadn't thought this far, knowing you had to wait for the right moment tonight, for it to be perfect, and unable to explain any odd behaviour leading up to it. His rear back with raised brows was enough to show you his shock and concern too, and you only shrugged. “I just think maybe I’ll hydrate a little before we get into the real drinking, save myself the hangover tomorrow.”

“Good idea,” His nose nudged over yours before he stepped back. “I make no promises of doing the same.”

Your laughter carried him a long distance from you, and your hand settled subconsciously over the life inside of you as you took a deep and shaky breath. Before even starting to calm your newly raging nerves, Rhysand was making a direct and pointed bee-line for you across the room, your eyes widening a little at his determination. An easy smile sat on his lips, but something calculating in his gaze, and when you glanced to Feyre behind him, she was doing her best effort to look anywhere but the two of you, bashfully.

“You look stunning tonight, my dear,” He placed a friendly kiss on your cheek, a motion which you repeated for him, before pulling away. “Forgive me for my forwardness-”

“When have you ever been truly sorry for that, Rhys?”

He only smirked, shrugging casually as his hands tucked into his pockets, but while his smile said ‘fun’, his eyes said ‘serious’. “You know… me and Fey could smell it as soon as you walked in. Everyone else is going to be able to tell soon, too. You won’t be able to hide this much longer, why doesn’t Cassian know yet?”

Your heart dropped a little, skipping a beat in dismay. Cassian had been hurt before, when Nesta had chosen to marry Eris instead he’d been wounded for years, he didn’t want his brother going through any more heartbreak, and you understood that. You appreciated his loyalty to his brother, and that the same loyalty would be inherited by your child, but you hated the miscommunication he seemed to have created. “I’m not hiding it, Rhys. I was waiting for a special time. I want this to be memorable for him.”

He looked a little bashful, and it was your turn to shrug.

“Take a look.” Tapping one finger to your temple, only moments later, a tap at your inner shield was replacing it. You let the memories pour out; mornings in bed with Cassian discussing the future, moments after you’d babysat Nyx, or seen children out during the summer in Velaris. Every memory of discussions about children, about the picture of the future, and his utter joy at the prospect of having a child. You even showed him the little gift you’d planned, your way of telling Cass the news. “I know how much this means to him, and I want to make every single moment of it something special for him.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Your walls crawled back up as he retreated, a much happier smile on his face. “I love how much you love Cassian, and how much you’ll love your niece or nephew.”

“I’m going to spoil them.”

“I know.” You grinned, watching Cassian begin to make his way back over, your water clutched in hand with just the number of ice cubes you liked. He knew you so well, it made your heart clench. Leaning a little closer to Rhys, you whispered; “I’ll need your help later, with sneaking the gift in.”

“It would be my absolute pleasure.”

“What are we talking about?” Cassian broke into the conversation, handing you your drink with a kiss to your cheek, and you leaned into the arm wrapping around you. You sipped your water for something to do, to occupy yourself so you didn’t have to lie. You hated lying o Cassian, even if it was an inconsequential one that was for the good in the end.

“Your darling girlfriend was just harassing me on when dinner would be ready, she’s starving. Truly, brother, do you not keep your girl well-fed and satisfied?” You choked on your water at the innuendo, and Cassian only scoffed, squeezing your hip at the insult.

“Trust me, she has no room for complaints.”

“Men.” You scoffed, and Rhys only flashed a cheeky smirk.

“Is now soon enough for food for you?” He clicked his fingers, varied sounds of awe all around as the table filled with food, and you were glad Cassian was distracted, because the abrupt clash of scents in the room made your stomach churn so violently your head spun temporarily.

Thankfully, Cassian was once again caught up with Rhys, never looking your way again until he was pulling your seat out at the table he’d guided you over to, tucking you under with a kiss to the top of your head. By that time, you’d managed to quash the obvious look of nausea on your face.

Across the table from you both Feyre pulled out a chair, and onto it hopped Nyx, his eyes lighting up when he found himself opposite his Uncle Cassian. Almost immediately, the two fell into conversation, the boy telling his favourite uncle all about his week at school, now that he was officially attending the ‘big boy school’ Rhys had been pestered into letting him enrol at. His stories never ended, ranging from playground games to classroom lessons to jokes his new friends had told him, and Cassian ate every bit of it up.

He’s always been so good with Nyx, from the moment you’d first met him and seen him interact with the heir who was just a toddler then, you’d known he’d make an incredible father someday. You were just happy you were the one who got to go on that adventure with him. He reacted in all the right ways, gasping dramatically and laughing loudly and feigning abhorrent shock at the right times. They were always such a sight to observe together.

As food was served, Cassian took charge of caring for Nyx automatically, his large hand leaving your thigh to pull Nyx’s plate over to him, never interrupting the child’s endless excited monologuing, and cutting up all his food for him while still managing to focus. You weren’t privy to the conversation, nor any of the conversations around you as you all ate, far too wrapped up in admiring Cassian. It was perfect. Everything about it, leading up to this moment, this night’s big reveal, couldn't have been better.

Only when you felt a prickle along the side of your face did you pull your attention away, the feeling coming from Rhysand’s stare, a smile on his lips, and he wiggled his brows a little towards Cassian and his son, neither of them any the wiser, and you only shrugged. At the squeeze of a hand on your thigh again, you tuned back, your boyfriend’s attention having moved to you as Nyx was now arguing with his mother about eating his carrots.

“You okay, babydoll? You’ve barely touched your food.”

It was true, one glance at the plate confirmed you’d only taken a few bites, mostly having just pushed it around and considered it. Part of the reason was that you were distracted, the other part was your sudden intolerance and aversion to certain things. It had been nothing short of a labyrinth of poor excuses and lame misdirections these last few weeks to avert his focus on your meals and sicknesses and mood swings. How were you supposed to explain why you suddenly couldn't stand to eat your favourite sandwich fillings without telling him everything?

By the end of the night, that was just another burden that would be lifted.

“M’fine, Cass, don’t worry. Just… not feeling it tonight.”

“But it’s your favourite.” He mumbled, eyes narrowing only slightly, the way he did when he was assessing someone he wasn’t sure how to read yet, putting all that military tactics and body language reading to the test on you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I swear-”

“Babe.” His tone said enough, one brow raising, and so you sighed. Putting on a smile at his concern you leaned in, his lips puckering to receive the kiss you were offering, but his eyes never closed, telling you he wouldn't be distracted so easily right now.

“I want to save some room for dessert. I’m really craving sugar tonight, and I kinda’ just want to binge out on a lot of cake and pastry and ice cream.” His lips stayed pouted for just a second, this time not for a kiss but out of confusion, before a soft gasp left him.

“Are you… coming up a cycle? You always crave sugar on your cycle. Is that why you’re acting odd these last few days?” It was like a lightbulb went off in your own mind, and you wanted to slap a hand on your forehead for not having thought of that yourself. “That makes so much sense. Why didn’t you tell me, we could have stayed in tonight, cuddled and read in bed?”

“My cycle… yeah. I am, and I just want a ton of sugar right now. But I’m fine, really. I’m just going to wait for the cakes to roll out.” He was far more content now, gaze flicking back to your plate.

“Do, you’re not gonna’ eat this?” You shook your head. “Can I have it?”

He didn’t get a chance, though, because Nyx was down from his chair now and tugging on Cassian’s sleeves with force, clearly desperate for the attention. “Uncle Cassie, Uncle Cassie! Let me show you my new toys now, you said we’d play right after dinner!”

“I know, buddy, but I just need to stay here for a little while.” Subconsciously, even as he turned to the boy, his hand smoothed up and down your thigh slowly, comforting and reassuring. You lifted it in your own instead, kissing the back softly before placing it on his knee.

“Go play, Cass. I’ll be fine here.”

“What? No, I- no.”

“Go. I’ll be just fine. I’m waiting for my sugar rush.” You patted your stomach lightly, all this talk of cake and baked goods really was getting you hungry now, and you could only thank the Mother that you hadn't lost your love for chocolate. “Go be with Nyx.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

He hesitated only a second longer, before letting his nephew take his hand and lead him away to a patch on the floor where you could no longer see them, only the tips of Cassian’s wings sticking up.

While Cassian was distracted, you saw your chance to slip away. A quick walk down the halls, past the flickering sconces and stone tiles, until you were back in your bedroom once again. Hidden away in your drawer, underneath all the socks and bras, was the small wrapped gift package you’d prepared days ago. Swiping it up, your thumbs smoothed over it. Soon, the truth would be out there, and everyone would know.

It would be real.

And you couldn't be happier about that. Smiling, you lifted it, pressing a kiss to the paper and the promise it held inside, before pushing the drawer closed again, and making your way back to the party, before your absence was noticed.

You were barely gone for five minutes, thinking you could slip out and be back in time before anybody noticed. But, your boyfriend had been suspicious all night, and you could hear his panicked voice from the opposite end of the central corridor. With the gift tucked behind your back as you rounded the entry and back into the main hall, your gaze closed in on Cassian. He was questioning Rhysand for your whereabouts, stopping only when he looked over his brother’s shoulder at you.

“Baby, hey.” He all but elbowed Rhys out of the way, stopping before you and smoothing his hand down your arms, eyes searching your face. “Where’d you go?”

His gaze shifted, to your hands behind your back, and so you leaned up swiftly to kiss him before he could look much further. He was gentle, as always, a sweet kiss as one hand smoothed down to your hip, the other large and warm and calloused as it sat on your jaw. Behind you, you felt Rhysand take the packet from your hands to hide, freeing you to put them on your boyfriend instead.

As your hands found him, one gripping his shoulder to pull yourself further up and the other slipping into his hair, scratching at his scalp lightly until he gave a soft groan against your lips. “Don’t think you can distract me with kisses and playing with my hair.”

His mumble against your lips was low and gritty, but your laughter was much louder. His eyes twinkled a little as he watched you. Sinking back down to stand properly, your arms were slung around his neck, his hands smoothing up and down your sides slowly. “There’s nothing to distract, Cass. I just went to freshen up before the stars began to fall, that’s all.”

Those tanned chinks gained a hint of pink, his eyes widening just a fraction, and lips parting. “Oh… sorry.”

“Don’t be, I like it when you worry about me.”

His grin was back, wide and sparkling, and he just tugged you closer in response, until your chests were pressed together. You pressed one kiss to his stubbled jaw, the next one to his cheek, the next was just under his eye. Under your lips, you could feel his smile. Next was his temple, his nose, the side of his mouth, until he was huffing in disappointment and impatience. “Kiss me. Now.”

“So demand-” His mouth closed over yours, far more intense than that first kiss. That one had been a reassurance, this one was a demand, and you yielded to the force of his lips against yours, moaning softly into his mouth. “Cass…”

“Mhm?” He didn’t pull away, instead nipping lightly on your lip until you let out a shaky sound that he was quick to smother again. When he dipped you backwards, a giggle sounded from you.

“Cass, c’mon, everyone’s waiting!”

“Let ‘em wait.” The kisses moved to your cheek when you were too busy laughing to kiss back.

“Alright, handsome, let’s go and watch the stars before you decide to throw me over your shoulder like a caveman.” As if to punctuate how close he was hovering to that border, Cassian left a single smack on your ass, a matching nip to your jaw, before pulling away. A few pieces of his hair were starting to fall loose where you’d played with his hair, hanging down around his face in strands that were beginning to curl in the warmth of the room, and you twirled one around your finger.

“Alright, fine.” He took your hand, raising it to kiss your knuckles. “If you insist.”

“I do.” You tugged him along behind you, until the two of you were standing out on the balcony. Twisting your back to him, you settled into his touch, feeling his arms wrap around your body, wings following to grace your sides and block out the light breeze sweeping over your skin.

The falling stars started only a few minutes later, bright colours lighting up the sky as the souls began to fly past. Your hand settled on your stomach, rubbing lightly at the growing life hidden within you.

“Doll…” Cassian’s voice was gentle, almost too fragile, stubbled cheek brushing against your skin as he left loving kisses to the juncture of your neck. “I’m still worried. Are you truly okay? You can tell me if something is wrong, please tell me if something is wrong.”

This was the moment, you knew it. There was no more denying or hiding it, you didn’t want Cassian to start truly panicking, to put a bad tilt on something that should be a happy memory. Twisting in his arms, your hands lifted to his cheeks, something across the spiky hairs there and smiling at the way he leaned fully into your touch.

Your gaze left his, flickering away just for a second towards Rhys. Cassian followed your gaze, his brows furrowing when his brother untucked the small, neatly wrapped package from his inner jacket pocket. “What’s this?”

“A gift, Cass.” He didn’t seem all that impressed by your joke, however his lips flicked up at the corners, adoration flashing through his eyes, even as his face still read confusion and worry.

“Obviously. But, you should have told me we were doing gifts. I’ve had my eye on this necklace I thought you’d like for weeks, but-” You cut his rambling off with a sweet kiss, one he was quick to reciprocate, lips melding with your own. He was always so passionate, no matter the kind of kiss it was, or the moment or occasion, Cassian never failed to make you feel like the only woman in the world. As he was distracted, you took one of his hands, pressing the gift into it carefully, before pulling back.

“We’re not doing gifts. This is different.”

His brows only rose in response.

“There is something. I’m going to be a little sick for a while, mostly in the mornings. I won’t be able to eat certain foods, or drink alcohol for a while. I’ll probably get some really bad mood swings, just like my cycle.” Your boyfriend smirked at that, you both knew how temperamental you could get.

His hands were shaking, a shallow breath taken in as he glanced at the parcel in his hold. His eyes were starting to shine, ad his throat bobbed as he did, your own growing thick with emotion as the silent message was passed between you both. He was beginning to get it, beginning to understand, tears forming along his lower lash-line as his lips pressed together when the bottom one trembled.

“Open it.”

“I’m nervous.” A watery laugh left him, rubbing a hand down his face before he leaned forward. A lingering kiss on your forehead, his nose dragging along your temple to leave another on your hairline, before he was glancing down at the parcel. Your heads rested together, and you were acutely aware of the group watching on, silence and anticipation.

The stars overhead flashed different colours across you both, lighting up the scene in vibrant hues that made for the perfect setting, and you sniffed through your emotions as he tugged on the ribbon. The bow came loose, the ribbon fluttering away to the ground, and the paper fell open in his cupped hands. Revealed before him was the soft material, pale white and delicate and so small.

He lifted it out slowly, shaking it out, and when he finally got a real look at it, a sob left his lips. Loud and unashamed, and he lifted his head to take in the piece in all its glory. Pinched in his hands, so tiny to fit, was a baby’s romper. Plain white and warm, with a matching hat and pair of socks back in the room, the words ‘baby’s first Starfall’ across the front in sparkling silver thread.

Another sob, and your heart squeezed to the point of pain at the elated expression on his face. Tears were slipping down your face to match, his gaze finding your own once again. “We’re having a baby?”

“Yeah, Cass. We’re having a baby.”

“I’m gonna’ be a dad.” He whispered, voice thick, and stealing a series of happy kisses from your lips, wet cheeks sliding together and salt tasting on your mouth, but it was perfect. When he pulled back, it was to spin to his family. With clasped hands and wide eyes and huge grins, Cassian cheered loudly, hands throwing up in the air. “I’m gonna’ be a dad!”

Rhys whooped, Azriel cheered loudly, wings flaring out, and both leapt for Cassian. In big hugs and flaps of wings and excited pats on the back, they celebrated, Nyx scrabbling in his mother’s arms to join the fray.

Feyre set him free, before making her way over to you, taking you into a tight hug that Mor and Elain and even a reluctant but smiling Nesta joined. You were still crying, as was Cassian, even as he scooped Nyx’s up and tickled his stomach and promised him soon he’d have a little friend to run these halls with.

And as you watched him, watched them all, you knew Cassian would make a wonderful father, and your baby would have the most loving family possible.

#cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian/reader #cassian/you #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar/reader #acotar/you #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #cassian

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atlasofthestaars · 5 months

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[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .013

first part | previous part | next part

NOTE: Sorry these chapters are taking a while, I hope the longer length makes up for it all! <3 Experimenting with a more descriptive style of writing, so sorry if it is a lot!

Would you guys want a repolling of Rain? I’ve been considering it after seeing all the love for Rain recently in the comments, let me know!

Also I went back and added chapter names for everything ! ty for avianlily for the help!

I know it’s Mortal Kombat, but warning for descriptive gore!

FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO SEES SOMETHING LIFE CHANGING

That night your memories returned to you, for the first time, in a dream.

You found yourself standing in the middle of a grand coliseum. At least, that’s what you remember it as. The walls rose high around the arena to accommodate for the massive amount of seats needed for all the people that filled them. It almost felt like a cage with how high up the walls were. The sun beat down harshly upon you, bestowing you with a thin of sweat upon your skin. The scent of dust and blood mingled in the air and your nose scrunched up at it.

You craned your head up to look into the crowd. The stares of the people were unnerving. It was as if you simply breathed wrong they would be ready to jeer at you. You felt more like a zoo animal rather than a person. You took in a deep breath, straightening your back. You would not let their stares make you cower and back down.

Despite all that, you were not the person of interest among the many who were in the coliseum. The crowd was much more focused on the fight happening in the center of the arena. A bandaged man with glowing eyes was beating Johnny Cage to a pulp as if he were a mere training dummy. Every blow the man dealt seemed to echo throughout the arena with how strong it was. Johnny probably had a few broken ribs at this point.

The crowd’s approval roared in your ears, but you could only grimace as you crossed your arms. How could anyone find enjoyment in such a sight? You’ve never understood why anyone would enjoy bloody fighting as entertainment. What drove people to enjoy such bloodlust flew completely over your head. You understood enjoying sparring and friendly fights…nothing like this.

Johnny, worn down and bruised, threw a sloppy kick in the man’s direction. Predictably, it was caught. Your eyes widened as you saw the bandaged man reel his arm back. You already knew what was going to happen. You averted your eyes, gritting your teeth as you heard the sickening crack of bone. That man had broken Johnny’s leg like it was a simple twig. You heard a thud, then a groan, and then you knew it was over.

“Ermac wins!” A voice announced among the crowd’s cheers.

“I’ll help him.” You said to the thunder god at your side. Raiden’s eyes looked at you, an unreadable look on his face, then he nodded. You strode over, looking at the tarkatan who had tried to drag Johnny away. There was a grumble, a reluctant growl, before he let you retrieve your ally. Despite the resistance, you nodded respectfully to him. No reason not to be disrespectful. “Brace yourself, Cage.” You muttered, hoisting Johnny up. You slung his arm over his shoulder, doing your best to keep the pressure of his leg now that he was lame.

“Thanks.” Johnny muttered, a groan leaving his lips. You knew he probably was aching all over. You could also tell he was swimming in and out of consciousness with the weak way his head rested against your shoulder. You looked over to his face, or at least the parts of it you could see, noting how the bruises painted his skin like grotesque watercolor. You sighed, wishing all of a sudden that you had healing powers instead of your shifting ones so you could whisk away his pain.

“Thank me later, try to keep awake.” You chided, your firm tone dissonant with the way your heart was hammering in fear for your ally. He was lucky they showed him mercy, you knew he could have easily been wiped out like nothing. With a grunt of effort, you led him to the back of the crowd, making sure he was situated away from the fighting and beasts Shao Khan let roam in his coliseum. He had enough for today, you figured. Looking up, you noted Kung Lao and Liu Kang walking in.

Relief washed over you as you saw them. They were safe.

Liu Kang had made a beeline for the princess. You sighed, watching him walk past. You had been caught up in the whole tournament and unable to help assist her. Well, at least Raiden had insisted you were more needed on standby than to help the princess. As you watched your long time friend go to assist her, a pit of guilt formed in your stomach.

You should have helped her.

You knew you were justified in staying back, after all you had to be on standby just in case you needed to fight. After all, the number of champions fighting for Earthrealm were much, much less than those for Outworld. But still the guilt grew.

“Not now!” Raiden pleaded, chasing after the man. “Smoke and Johnny Cage have been defeated, and I no longer sense Jackson Briggs’ and Sonya Blade’s presence in Outworld.” The thunder god cried out, trying to make Liu Kang understand the gravity of the situation. You walked by them now, deciding you better listen in on the conversation. You walked to the right of Liu Kang. “Despite my doubts as to whether you are Earthrealm’s savior, you must fight!”

Liu Kang looked at Raiden, a look akin to a betrayed pet. The pyromancer’s gaze drifted towards you, his gaze seeming to search for something as he looked at you. Your eyebrows furrowed at the expression. Was he looking for your approval? What good would your approval do, compared to a god’s? Still, despite your self doubt, you thought about it. You took in a deep breath, then you looked away, down to the dusty ground. Then, after a moment of contemplation, you nodded your head towards Kitana.

“I have other things to do.” Liu Kang, with the voice of a man scorned, told Raiden. His determination seemed to have been bolstered by your encouragement. The man looked at you once more, his gaze much softer. Instead of the smoldering embers of hate, there were merely cinders. He walked forward, not caring for the threatened stances the tarkatans gave him. Shao Khan’s gaze followed, his cold orange eyes assessing the man. He let him pass, not caring for what he did with Kitana.

Vile man.

“Raiden!” Shao Khan’s voice boomed out, his voice sticking out loud and proud among the cacophony of sounds. He looked all too smug on his stone throne situated in the middle of the arena. He lounged too casually, as if he knew his victory was assured. It riled you up, making you grit your teeth and glare at him. “Put forward a worthy champion…if you can.”

From the corner of your eye, you spotted Kung Lao moving forward. A mixture of emotions swelled inside you at the sight. The first emotion you identified was pride for your friend at his confidence in his skill. The second was fear, especially after the brutal beatings you had seen Smoke and Johnny Cage take. You feared he would suffer the same fate, if not worse. He had not fully stepped forward, looking towards the thunder god before stepping back into place.

Kung Lao’s desire to prove himself and to fight for Earthrealm was obvious. You tried to keep your mixed emotions on the matter less obvious. You knew your friend had issues with feeling equal to Liu Kang, your look of mixed emotions would only drive him to doubt himself. That among many other things was not what you wanted.

Raiden looked at you first, a contemplative look on his face. For a moment, you considered whether he was planning on throwing you out there. You took a deep breath in, preparing yourself for that very possibility. You were strong enough, you believed, but your faith in your abilities wavered after the brutalities you witnessed today.

Raiden then turned his eyes towards Kung Lao, noting his more eager attitude. It was like night and day. It was as if he were trying to volunteer to pick up the mail, not to fight in a bloody tournament. You knew he was eager to prove himself, but did he not realize the gravity of it all? You felt your nails create marks on your palm from how hard you clenched your fists upon the realization of what was to come.

It was obvious who he would choose.

“Perhaps you are meant to be the victor.” Raiden said. His words felt like the final nail in the coffin. Your stomach churned with fear as you watched the all too pleased look on Kung Lao’s face. You felt guilty at the conflicted emotions within you. You shouldn’t be doubting your friend’s ability, and in truth, you didn’t. But you just didn’t want to see him get hurt like Johnny Cage and Smoke already did.

“One second.” You said, stepping forward in front of Kung Lao. For a moment, you sucked in a breath, trying to seek the courage to tell him to not do it because of the way your gut twisted and turned. And yet, upon seeing the look on his face, your resolve crumbled. Your gaze dropped, and you raised a hand to rest on his bicep. “Just…stay safe, Kung Lao.” Your fingers pinched at his skin.

“You worry too much.” Kung Lao told you, your name spilled from his lips with a comforting tone. He placed a hand on your own bicep and pinched it back. A light laughter left his lips, and your lips pressed together. “I’ll make sure to beat these Outworlders and come back victorious, for all of us.” He paused, squeezing your arm. “I promise.”

You could only hope that he kept that promise/

“May the elder gods bless him.” You whispered to yourself as you stepped to the side and watched Kung Lao walk up to take the challenge. You were unable to keep out the hint of fear in your prayer. Thankfully, the sound of the crowd washed out your voice so your friend would not hear it. The air was filled with sounds of disapproval towards him, but Kung Lao preserved. You only hoped that your prayer still made it out to the gods despite all the noise.

You felt Raiden’s eyes turn to you. His glowing eyes felt like lasers burning into your head with how intense it was. He surely must have heard your plea. You avoided eye contact, keeping your eyes trained on your razor hatted friend. You didn’t want to know what the thunder god’s reaction was to your prayer, though you had a bit of an idea already.

You heard a pained grunt come from behind you, tearing your attention away from the announcement of the fight. You spun around to look at the person who made the noise. Your eyes scanned the crowd, scrutinizing all the faces. With a sigh, you noticed that it had come from Johnny Cage who had moved from his spot. His leg was now displaced from an attempt to move. With a disapproving shake of your head, you strode over to deal with the actor.

Kung Lao would be fine, surely. You had to have faith in your friends.

“What did I say about moving?” You chided, straightening out Johnny’s leg so it was no longer bent at an awkward angle. You were used to gore and gruesome sights, but you couldn’t help the little hint of distaste you felt upon seeing the injury. At least no bone was sticking through his pants. You couldn’t tell the full scope of how bad it was from his pants, though. “I should help you now that I’m not needed.” You muttered, kneeling down as you took out the medical bag you kept with you.

“Sorry.” Johnny muttered, and you could hear guilt dripping from his voice. “I saw that Kung Lao was going to fight…wanted to see.” He explained to you in a labored tone, his voice lacking his usual cocky tone. He was still slightly out of it, and it was hard to look at his bruised face. You huffed as you pushed the man down so he didn’t strain himself any further than he already did.

“Don’t talk, don’t move. You’re going to hurt yourself doing that.” You told him, sending him a small glare. It was a half hearted attempt as your gaze softened as you saw how tired he looked. “I appreciate the apology though.” You sighed as you observed the cuts and injuries he had sustained. You reached into your bag, taking a rag to clean the open wounds. “This will sting, feel free to squeeze.” You warned him, offering your hand out as you swiped the rag over the wounds.

His hand hesitantly took yours. You heard a hiss come from the actor as you began to disinfect his wounds, and you knew from how hard his hand was gripping yours now it must hurt like the deepest part of the netherrealm. You made sure to bandage his wounds properly, watching with slight concern as bits of the bandages turned slightly red.

“You’re doing good.” You reassured him, running your thumb over the back of his hand which had lessened its grip. “You’re brave for going out there, Cage.” You said, deciding to distract him from the pain by playing up to his ego. You felt his hand weakly squeeze yours. You smiled at him, it was at least reassuring to know he could at least do that.

You nearly jumped as you heard the creaking of metal. Turning your head, you heard the crowd roar in approval as a metal gate opened on the side of the coliseum. A tirgar shokan emerged, and you recalled that he must be the one named Kintaro that your father had told you about. He roared as he exited, the sound echoing throughout the area. The crowd seemed to be bolstered at the display.

With heavy steps, he approached Kung Lao who seemed to be faring well after his last match. He wasn’t badly hurt like Smoke or Johnny was, at least. Relief filled you at the sight. He was okay, and that’s what you really needed to see. You huffed at the threat that Kintaro gave Kung Lao, telling him that he would eat his heart. How brutish.

The match captivated you. You knew Kung Lao was skilled, you helped train him after all, but it was something else to watch him in motion in a real fight. His technique was top tier, and the way he moved with his hat made it feel like it was merely a part of him.

His punches felt impactful with every blow he landed, and you swore you heard the crack of a rib from all the way back here. His hat sliced through flesh and muscle with ease. Kintaro’s blood splattered upon Kung Lao, decorating him with his signs of victory. Long gone was the proud tirgar shokan, he seemed like a pitiful kitten with the beating he was suffering. Anyone who watched could tell Kung Lao had been training his life for this.

How could you have doubted him?

It didn’t take very long for him to defeat the shokan. With a weak yowl, he tumbled into the dirt. Dust clouds rose up from the heavy impact. For a moment, the arena went silent. Then, the crowd around began to boo and jeer the man. You frowned at the noise. The hate sent his way left a bitter taste in your mouth. Yet, Kung Lao didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he basked in all the attention, spinning and bowing, You sighed and turned away. While he didn’t mind it all, you were uncomfortable with it all. You didn’t want to watch it.

You continued to bandage Johnny up, having paused the task to observe the fight. You furrowed your eyebrows as Johnny began to move. Or rather, struggle to move. You pushed him back, sending him a disapproving look. You already scolded him, he surely didn’t need more lectures? The actor was arrogant and headstrong, but he wasn’t this stupid, was he? It wasn’t until he pointed behind you that you realized he was trying to warn you of something.

“Shao…Khan.” Johnny rasped, continuing to intently point behind you.

“What?” You said, furrowing your eyebrows at the words he said. You turned to look where Johnny was pointing. As your eyes landed on the man creeping behind your friend, it felt like the wind was knocked out of your lungs. You stood, dropping your medical supplies all upon the ground. You didn’t care though. You dashed forward towards the crowd, limbs trying to transform into whatever would get you there faster. Your hand was outstretched to the man. “Kung Lao!” You called out, heart hammering with fear.

“Earthrealm is free-”

You were too late.

Time slowed as you collided with Raiden, but the impact did nothing to tear your eyes from the horrific sight of Kung Lao’s neck being snapped. You barely registered the shriek that echoed through the coliseum as yours, you were far too focused on the sound of his neck being snapped. It was a loud crack paired with the sickening sound of muscle and flesh twisting in a way that the human body was not meant to go.

It was ugly and wrong.

Your limbs felt like they were suddenly made of lead as his body, all too limp and still for a man who had just been breathing a moment ago, slumped to the ground. As it finally hit the ground and dust clouds rose, you felt like you could finally move properly.

You threw yourself to the ground, ignoring the sneer the tyrant sent your way as you dragged Kung Lao’s body into your lap. Terrified prayers to the elder gods hoping that somehow Kung Lao was okay left your lips. You stared down at his head which was grotesquely twisted in an unnatural angle. His eyes were wide open, yet they had no life behind them. Although all the signs were there that he could not possibly be alive, you shakily raised a hand to check his pulse, desperate for anything at all.

Nothing. Just a body that was quickly losing its warmth.

He was, without a doubt, dead.

A scream left your lips as you tumbled out of bed.

You hissed as you felt the impact of the floor. Thankfully it was not a long fall for you, so at most it would only be a minor bruise. Your side ached dully as you laid there, processing what you just witnessed. Through all the noise in your head, all you could hear was your shaky uneven breaths. You turned to face the ceiling, staring at what you could see with the assistance of the crystal lamp.

What was that?

Your vision was blurry, as if you were looking through a foggy window. You reached up to your face, rubbing at it harder than you needed just to make sure you were even awake. You winced at the rough texture of your hands. Your limb, despite you not willing it to transform, was a reptile claw. Still, it did not deter you from wiping at your eyes.

Tears were wiped away, and you saw your other limbs were in a sort of disarray. You were mostly not human right now. You stared at your limbs, flexing them and trying to return them back. Your vision blurred again, but this time with tears of frustration. No matter how much you tried to will it away, you could not transform back.

You were no stranger to gruesome and awful sights in your memories. It seemed whatever life you once lived was filled with grief and pain, it was something you’ve come to learn with the memories you’ve recovered. You’ve seen bloody scenes and lifeless bodies, moments of grief and solitude. And yet what you had just seen had shaken you to the core.

You’ve never seen someone you cared about, or used to care about, die in front of you.

Your mind raced with the details you witnessed, trying to catalog every moment you had seen. Part of you wanted to squeeze your eyes shut and try to force out the memory. To try and forget whatever you had seen and how it would inevitably scar your memories. Before you could let your irrational thoughts get the better of you, you forced your eyes wide open with a single thought.

You had to be calm to dwell on whatever horrifying sight you had witnessed, you couldn’t let yourself forget. Maybe, just maybe, a calm mind would help your body come back to normalcy as well.

You rubbed at your eyes with the heel of your palm using the other hand which had turned into a bear paw. You counted carefully the amount of time you took to breathe in, trying to regulate yourself. Then, for the same amount of time, you forced yourself to breathe out. The panicked frenzy of blood rushing through your ears settled down, turning into a quiet stream.

Your limbs slowly transformed back into your regular form, and you worried a little less now.

You laid on the ground, sprawled out as you let your body and mind recover from the memory. As your rational thoughts overtook the frenzied ones, you finally let your eyes close. You flinched at the flashes of memory the darkness brought. A broken leg, an angry glance…a snapped neck. You groaned at the vision, trying not to remember that particular part.

Taking another deep breath, you focused on what you remembered. That place indicated a tournament, why else would you all throw yourselves into such bloodshed otherwise? You couldn’t tell if it was the same tournament that you remembered yesterday or not, but it was definitely in Outworld. Kitana was captive, but why? She had been a princess of Outworld, there was no reason she should need saving, especially from Earthrealm.

Why were you all even fighting? Somewhere in the back of your head you knew it was for an important reason. You knew that the thunder god wouldn’t send you into meaningless conflict. You stared up at the ceiling for a few moments more, trying to piece together the pieces you barely had. Why was Liu Kang so upset with the thunder god? Was it because Raiden had doubted he was Earthrealm’s savior?

It couldn’t possibly be, the Liu Kang you knew now was far too humble. But then again, was he always? You weren’t sure, in all honesty, your memories with Liu Kang felt blurred. You let out a resigned sigh as you draped an arm over your eyes. This was far too much to think about for just waking up. You rubbed your eyes once more.

Maybe right now wasn’t the time to think about all that tragedy. With another sigh, you forced yourself to get up. As you stood, you grimaced at the mess you made of the bed. It was like staring at a massacred corpse. Deep gashes exposing the mattress were left, and the pillows were torn. The blanket you had tangled with as you fell was even shredded.

You reached up and fiddled with the dragon necklace you wore, a habit you developed. You had no idea how to explain the mess you had made. At least, not without either seeming suspicious or having people worry about you. You’ve never lost control before, how could you explain that a dream…no. How could you explain that a nightmare had made you go berserk? Not to mention you could only confide the contents of your dream to Liu Kang, and after the conversation with him yesterday, you were reluctant to.

You rubbed your face, agitated. You’d deal with this all later, you decided. You were far too stressed out for this right now. You felt a tad bit guilty about just abandoning it, but you decided it was for the best. With how unstable you were earlier, it might act up again if you looked at it too long or stressed over it. Still, even with your rationale, the pit of guilt didn’t go away.

To move past it, you sluggishly moved towards the mirror. You saw your appearance, you looked like you had just been in a scuffle. Grabbing a new set of clothes, you quickly changed into it. You chose not to look at your back. Then, after feeling a bit better about donning a new outfit, you took the time to make yourself seem more composed.

By the time you were done, you looked normal. The only indication of your earlier frenzy was the slight redness of your eyes. That was only when someone got close and really took the time to look at them. You rubbed at your eyes once more, wishing it’d go away faster. Alas, it didn’t work. Shaking your head, you tested out a smile, seeing if you could fool yourself.

Good enough.

Smoothing out your outfit one last time, you stepped out of the room. You took in a deep breath as you stepped into the light. At least the beauty of the palace was somewhat comforting. It wasn’t quite the same as waking up for the sunrise, but it was still a wonderful sight.

Footsteps echoed from the hall. You looked away from the wonder around you to the otherside of the hallway, half expecting to see princess Kitana. After all, who else came down this way around this time of day other than her? Or anytime in general. it felt like. And yet, the person you saw walking from down the hall was perhaps the last person that you wanted to see right now.

Kung Lao.

“Ah, Kung Lao.” You greeted, hoping the smile upon your lips didn’t seem too forced. You scanned his face. It seemed he was far too tired to notice any strange behavior. The drowsiness that clung to him seemed to go away slightly as you walked closer. A smile appeared on his face. You held back a grimace upon noticing how it looked all too similar to the one he had before he died. “How are you?”

“Tired.” Kung Lao admitted, a yawn escaping his lips. His eyes traveled downwards, and his expression seemed to brighten at what he saw. “I’m glad you like the necklace.” He commented, with amusement twinkling in his eyes. You blinked owlishly at his seemingly random comment before drawing your own gaze to where he was staring.

The dragon necklace. The very same you were fiddling in your hand. Your gaze softened as you looked down at the design, then looked back up at the Kung Lao in front of you. Your eyes traveled to the dragon insignia upon the left side of his chest. Perhaps it was not exactly the same size or design, but the similarities between the two designs of the two versions was enough to made you grip the necklace just a bit tighter. For a moment, you allowed yourself to wonder why there were so many similarities between the two worlds.

Then you stopped, feeling that damned headache remerge at just the thought of overthinking again.

“Yeah.” You said, nodding as you continued to stare at the design on his chest. Bringing yourself to look up at Kung Lao in the eyes felt like a herculean task at this moment. Your smile melted into one that was a touch softer, a bit smaller. “I really like it, actually.” You looked back at the dragon which you rubbed between your forefinger and thumb.

“I knew you would.” Kung Lao remarked, a nearly smug grin on his lips. A satisfied expression settled on his lips as he observed you for a moment more. Then, in the next he stepped over so he was by your side. “Let’s go to the Great Hall, I’m starving.” You nodded a small chuckle leaving your lips. You followed him to the Great Hall. Your eyes kept wandering around like a duckling without its mother. They seemed to land anywhere but the man beside you.

Even if you were composed right now, you didn’t quite trust yourself if you were to look at Kung Lao too long. They were just so…similar that it made your chest hurt. You weren’t sure what was quite causing it: the idea that the man beside you could succumb to a gruesome fate like the one you had seen before, or the fact that the man beside you was close enough to the one who had died. It was like seeing an imperfect recreation of the man before.

All too similar to give you a sense of nostalgia and to nearly trick you into thinking he was the same. And yet different enough that you were bitterly reminded that the man you had known as a friend was gone for good. Part of you was comforted by the sameness, but another part of you wished that he was just different so you weren’t reminded of a man whose death was seared into your memory.

The walk there was shrouded in a veil of awkwardness, but thankfully your walking partner didn’t notice. You were too conflicted internally to initiate much conversation, battling yourself with the newfound feelings of sorrow and grief for a man who has passed long ago. You did, however, talk back whenever Kung Lao attempted to throw in conversation.

Would Kung Lao ever believe you that you once knew him, in another life?

You were never more relieved to see the Great Hall than now. Trying not to make your excitement to not be alone with Kung lao too obvious, you slowed your pace just a little to allow the razor hatted man to reach the fire god and his friend first.

Both Liu Kang and Raiden greeted the two of you cheerily. You smiled upon noticing the more upbeat attitude the champion held today. The nerves that once clung to him the past few days seemed to be gone. Or at least, gone for the most part. The only indication of his nervousness was in the smile that was a little too wide as he handed you and Kung Lao some breakfast foods. Your heart seemed to flutter at the simple gesture.

Well, that was breakfast sorted out.

You gratefully took your portion, and noted the excited way Kung Lao snatched the second serving that Raiden had also gotten him. You felt a little relieved to be falling back into some sort of normalcy after that horrible dream. Eating the bit of food also helped calm you down and not make you feel like you were walking on a tightrope around others.

“So who are you fighting today?” Kung Lao asked, peering over to Raiden. He wiped away the remnants of the food he devoured. By the time you had finished your portion, he had finished both of his. How he managed to scarf down food that fast alluded you to this day. “Not that it matters since you’ll easily beat them.” The former farmer sent his friend a confident grin, to which Raiden returned, albeit not as confident.

“Raiden will be facing the Osh-Tekk known as Ko’atal, or Kotal.” Liu Kang answered. His eyes seemed to squint just a touch in warning towards Kung Lao. The man sent a grin that was only partially apologetic. You felt the familiar buzz of nostalgia in your head at the name. You wondered if there was ever a time you’d stop experiencing this sensation. “He’s one of their best.”

You supposed you wouldn’t. Not until you unraveled all of your memories, at least.

How many more bits and pieces did you have left to find? That question lingered in your head as idle chatter was passed between the group. You didn’t realize how long you spaced out until you were surprised to feel an arm slung over your shoulders. You jolted in surprise at the contact, looking over to see the culprit.

It only made sense that it was Johnny Cage.

“How you doing, Teach?” The actor asked, a wide grin on his face. He leaned his head towards you, his eyes seeming to search your face. He seemed more chipper this morning. Everyone in general seemed in a better mood. Well, everyone but you. You felt a bit guilty that you didn’t share their energy. Still, you put on your best smile. Fake it until you make it, isn’t that what actors say?

“I’m fine, Cage.” You responded. Your eyes dragged over his arm which draped over your shoulders. For a moment, you considered shrugging it off, but there was something about the contact that felt…comforting. “You seem to be in a better mood.” You pointed out, looking back to Johnny. His smile seemed to grow a bit wider.

“I was conversing with one of the princesses yesterday, she was totally giving me the look.” He said, all too proud of himself. You found your somewhat fake smile turn a little real as you wondered what the look on the actor’s face would be if you told him you’ve been conversing with both of the princesses for a bit now. Granted, one was more willing than the other, but he didn’t need to know that. “She’s totally into me.”

“Are you certain she wasn’t just amused by you and your attempts to woo her?” You joked, sending Johnny a look with raised eyebrows. You heard what you thought was a little muffled snort covered up by a fake cough. Looking over, you saw Kenshi covering his mouth with his fist. You could barely detect the amused crinkle in his eyes.

“Ah, you’re just jealous of how close I’m getting to them.” Johnny teased, you let out a short bark of laughter as you rolled your eyes. His hand rocked you back and forth in a playful manner. In what way did he want you to interpret that? You getting jealous of the princesses, or getting jealous of him? “Don’t worry, Teach, I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know, unfortunately.” You replied in jest. There was a shout of protest from the American at your comment. In the midst of your light hearted banter, you temporarily forgot your woes. How Johnny manages to keep on cheering you up seemed to be a secret talent of his. You wondered if he knew what he was doing, or even was aware of it.

The same fanfare from yesterday played out once more. The entrance of the Empress and princesses was followed by the parting of the crowd. It felt almost comforting to fall into a routine again. You watched as once more, Sindel rose again from her seat on the throne to address the crowd.

“Yet another day of this wonderful tournament.” Sindel announced, a smile on her face. Her arms were spread wide as she looked among the crowd before directing her gaze at Raiden. There wasn’t quite hostility in her eyes, but you sensed there was a sense that she was becoming just a touch less warm towards the champion.

You assumed, or at least hoped it was only due to how he was progressing further than she had expected.

“You have proven yourself well against Reiko yesterday.” Sindel commended, though that lingering sense of little contempt was underneath her welcoming tone. “Let us see if you can continue to prove your fighting prowess within this next match.” She sat down once more, leg crossed over the other. Her head turned to look at General Shao. “General Shao, whom did you choose to fight next?”

“Your Majesty.” General Shao stepped forward once more. You looked away from the man, deciding that after the dream you had today you really didn’t want to look at him. “I have chosen one of my respected officers, Ko’atal.”

A figure you have not seen before, at least in this lifetime, emerged from the end of the hallway. He strode forward, his figure muscular, broad, and tall. His eyes seemed to have a hint of glow to them, though they did not shine like Liu Kang’s. Glowing paint was streaked in jagged patterns down his chest and limbs. He strode in with a humble confidence, much different than Reiko before him. Ko’atal’s face was set in fierce determination as he marched forth.

Just as you predicted, your head seemed to buzz at the sight of him, but you could not glean much else from his appearance.

“Kotal is the pride of the Osh-Tekks, and one of their fiercest warriors.” As the General spoke, Kotal seemed to flex his muscles as if to show off the paint upon his skin. His armor, though had traits of the other uniforms that Shao and Reiko wore, had unique gold embellishments to them. “He is ruthless and loyal, and knows how to take down an enemy easily with the strength he has earned.” You rose an eyebrow at the toned down speech compared to Reiko. Seems like someone has favorites.

“So you are the one who took down Reiko?” Kotal asked Raiden, stopping a few feet away from his opponent. His voice was deep, and boomed naturally. His eyes searched Raiden, sizing him up with a natural caution. It seemed like he respected the man in front of him, or at least as much as he respected any other opponent. Raiden nodded after taking in a nice long breath. “Then let us see how you did it.”

And without much else bravado, the fight began.

Ko’atal fought in a very brute force style. He knew he towered over Raiden, and used it to his advantage. His strikes were much slower than Raiden, but they were filled with such power that every time he did manage to land a hit they seemed to knock the wind out of the champion. His paint, or were they tattoos? glowed as he fought. They changed color depending on what he did. He even summoned totems within the battle.

The warrior even seemed to naturally bask in the sunlight that filtered in through the open architecture. It was like he was charged by the light, and used its power against the electricity user in battle.

How strange, how different.

And yet even with the different fighting style, Raiden adapted. He used the bulkiness to his advantage, going in for quicker strikes to counter his opponent. He used his weight against him, having him fumble and falter when he did miss. It only made sense that Earthrealm’s champion remained victorious during the fight.

“It was an honor fighting you.” Raiden said, his breath coming out labored as he recovered from the intense fight. Kotal, sluggish from the exertion, nodded at his words. He got up, seeming worse for wear. Both men seemed to nod once more in respect for the other, before Kotal walked away, taking his loss respectfully.

“Another well fought match.” Sindel complimented, though her smile felt just a tad bit more strained at the sight of Earthrealm’s victor. She cleared her throat as she stood to address the mass of people. “Once more we shall adjourn at first light.” The Empress declared. Then, after another moment, the crowd began to disperse, even more people seemed to send glances at Raiden’s way this time.

“Another well earned victory.” You commended the former farmer. He seemed to brighten up at your words, eyes wide with joy at the praise. He nodded quickly. “Keep it up, and at this rate victory will be assured for Earthrealm.”

“Thank you.” Raiden said, his voice a bit breathy from the battle. You returned the smile he sent your way. Then, the rest of the champions seemed to join in, throwing their compliments towards their friend. “I have never seen someone fight like him before.” He admitted, adjusting his hat. “It was a very interesting fight.”

“The Osh-Tekks have an innate connection with the sun.” Liu Kang explained, his hand gesturing to the sun which shone in the sky. “Ko’atal in particular had a stronger and closer connection with it, which allowed him to fight so valiantly.” He regarded his champion with a smile. “It is exceptional that you took him down.”

“Do you think he would be open to acting?” Johnny asked, looking towards where Kotal had left. Upon seeing all the looks sent his way, he held his hands up. “Hey! I’m just saying this movie I was working on would kill to have someone like him! I personally think I would be doing him a favor.” He huffed, crossing his arms.

“You could start by doing us favors, Cage.” Kenshi piped in, his own arms crossing as he sent a glare towards the actor. “For example, by giving me Sento.” This now prompted a little bickering between the two men. While amusing, you couldn’t help but to let out a small sigh at the antics. Your eyes drifted away from the duo, before they landed on a figure heading your way. You perked up at the sight.

“Ready for your tour?” Rain inquired, a small smile on his lips as he stopped near you. You nodded enthusiastically, the whole tour plan having slipped your mind due to the dream earlier. At least you had something exciting to get your mind off of that.

“Tour?” Kung Lao piped up. You turned your head to look at the man. He looked between you and Rain, eyebrows raised. It looked like he was trying to scrutinize what was going on, his face changing slightly as he processed it all.

“Oh, Rain’s the High Mage.” You introduced him, your hand gesturing to the man you were talking about. Rain bowed his head. “He offered me to go see the Imperial Academy yesterday due to my interest in magic.” You explained, recalling just how you got into this situation. “I’m quite honored, by the way.” You said, turning your attention back to the mage.

“Can I come?” Kung Lao inquired, his eyes seeming to light up at the prospect of going to a place that had such a high reputation. Your eyes drifted over and noticed how Liu Kang had even taken notice of the conversation.

“Sorry, but you can’t.” Rain said, his voice polite but firm. He offered your friend an apologetic smile. “I already arranged for just one visitor. The Academy is quite strict with who is permitted to visit, but seeing how your friend has such potent magic I was able to pull some strings to arrange a visit.” You looked over, surprise upon your features as you heard about the lengths he went through.

“Sorry, Kung Lao.” You said, shrugging at the news. You sent him a reassuring smile at the pout he displayed. You put a hand on his bicep, rubbing it gently. You swallowed your nerves upon seeing his eyes, fighting the memories of what he used to look like. “I’ll be back for dinner, don’t worry, okay? I’ll tell you all about it when I return.” You pinched his arm lightly before letting go, only realizing what you had done until after it was done.

“I’ll be holding you to that.” Kung Lao said, your name cheerily falling from his lips. For a moment, you stared at him, hoping that he would return the gesture, but he didn’t. You nodded, looking back to Rain who looked at you expectantly. You nodded at him, watching as he gestured towards the hallway leading to the outside.

“Well, shall we go?” He inquired. You nodded, stepping to be by his side.

“See you guys later.” You said, waving to the group. A chorus of goodbyes arouse, sending you off. You, however, didn’t notice the lingering stare that was sent your way as you left. You both walked in relative silence before you noted how you were alone now. “I’m honored you invited me to see the academy, but I’m a stranger to you, why go through the effort?” You inquired, peering over to the man.

“You have a very powerful magic, like I mentioned.” Rain answered simply. “And our ideals of growing stronger, pushing past our limits…it’s very rare to meet someone else who understands that drive. I could tell the look in your eye when you said that was genuine.” There was a pause. “I simply wished to extend this invitation as a sign of friendship.”

“I see.” You said, scanning the man for any sign of ill will. When you saw none, a smile pulled at your lips. “I accept your invitation of friendship then. I hope we shall have a pleasant one until I must go back to Earthrealm.”

“Indeed.”

The Imperial Academy towered high over you, a place of majesty and wonder. It was almost nearly as tall as the palace itself. It even resembled the palace, being made of the same white stone. To set it apart, black stone of the same quality made up the rooftops of the academy and accented certain arches and overhangs. This provided great contrast to the golden embellishments which were set into the building. Symbols were carved into the architecture, giving the building texture rather than letting it be simply smooth.

Lush foliage draped along the railings of the academy akin to banners. Deep red and purple flowers peppered the vines. The way the flora intertwined with the building imbued it with life, as if the nature here and the building were made to coexist rather one conform to another. It was harmonious.

It was located a little further on the outskirts of Sun Do, but it was still close enough that one could travel to and fro from the city. It was nearly intimidating to see it. You could practically feel all the power and magic held just from standing outside of it. It was potent enough that you could almost describe the scent of what raw magic was.

“Wow.” You said, your jaw dropping at the sight of it. It felt almost wrong to be here, especially since you had heard of just how difficult it was to get into this place. “Are you certain I’m allowed here?” You asked, looking over to your companion with raised eyebrows.

“I was just as amazed when I got here.” Rain admitted, looking at you. A slight amused look was on his face, but he did not appear to be judgemental of your awe. If anything, he seemed to take pride in what he deemed was an acceptable reaction. He looked back at the building, a gleam of nostalgia in his eyes. “But when I finally stepped foot in here, it felt like I finally understood my destiny.” He looked at you once more. “I wish I could say perhaps the same will happen for you, but you are from Earthrealm.”

“A pity.” You said, not knowing how to feel about that last sentence. Your gut twisted with unease. You drew in a deep breath, driving out your nerves. “Let’s hope I don’t get too attached then.” You told him. You could only hope to yourself that your own words would become true. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you found a piece of yourself here, in a place that didn’t think you belonged.

“For your sake, I hope so too.” Rain replied. nodding. His words were tinged with pity, a sentiment that made you feel a bit worse. You didn’t blame your companion for your feelings but…pity was one of the worst feelings in the world. You followed him, stepping carefully over the bridge that led over a stream that was in front of the academy. It bubbled softly beneath you like a little lullaby from nature.

Your fingers trailed along the handhold of the bridge, the bumpy surface becoming engraved in your mind. As you two approached the entrance, the doors loomed even taller, dwarfing both of you. You couldn’t even recall if the palace had doors this extravagant. The High Mage cast a look your way once more, his eyes searching yours. It was like he was searching for validation within your reaction. You offered him a smile, one that he returned.

With a wave of his hand, the doors parted. They glided open effortlessly, revealing the building’s contents with ease. They didn’t even make so much as a creak. The both of you ascended the steps to get a closer look of the interior.

To say the inside was immaculate would be an understatement.

The grand hall opened wide and tall to accommodate for a grand statue of a woman you couldn’t quite name. Even without knowing her, you could easily tell she was revered and beloved. At the base of the statue was an altar that was littered with gifts and more of the breathtaking nature. The vines and flowers wound and rose around the woman’s carved dress up around her waist and into her arms which were presented forward with hands cupped. Her eyes were alight with life despite being made entirely of stone. Despite all the foliage that grew around the woman, the statue itself was well maintained.

Even with the stunning statue in the center of the hall, the rest of the building was not any less disappointing. The marble stone below, checkered white and black in a hypnotizing fashion was polished to perfection. You leaned forward, and you were met with a smiling reflection that was almost substitute enough for a mirror.

The walls around you opened wide for many rows of hallways that seemed nearly endless. Stairs that were perfectly symmetrical in fashion twisted up and around to lead to a secondary floor that stood a little higher than the waist of the woman before you. These too lead to more hallways of the academy. Just how many rooms did this place contain?

“What do you think?” Rain asked, his voice snapping you out of your admiration of the area. You sucked in a breath, your eyes traveling over the area once more. It was only now that you noted the hustle and bustle of the area. Students rushed around, brushing past each other perfectly as if they were performing a choreographed dance. The footsteps, which would have sounded chaotic and overbearing anywhere else, sounded almost rhythmic. Magic danced in the air, whether it be in the form of sparks, light, or a creature soaring through the air. Some attendants knelt at the base of the statue, mumbling softly.

“It’s amazing.” You admitted, eyes darting around. A few glances of curiosity were sent in your direction, but ultimately no one approached you. It was like stepping out of their little routines would ruin the delicate ecosystem set in this place. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it. It’s like everyone and everything here are in perfect harmony.”

“That is why the best of the best are permitted here.” The mage reminded you with a small tilt of his head. He caught the glance of a student who peered at him. A smile was sent the student’s way, and it sent them into a grinning mess before they scurried off. For a moment, you felt special. After all, you were allowed to be among what must be the most elite magic users to glance into a peek of their lives. Not only that, but you were also accompanied by the High Mage of the royal court. “Come, let’s pick up what I came here for before I give you a tour.”

“You needed to pick up something?” You inquired, peering at the man. Your footsteps tried to match his as he led you down a hallway. Perfectly spaced doors lined the walls. Each was labeled with a neat golden plaque which was also engraved with an equally neat font. “I thought you no longer studied here?” You asked, hoping your tone did not sound too blasphemous.

“I don’t.” Rain confirmed, a small nod showing that he did not think your question was overstepping. “But my studies sometimes require equipment and items that can only be found at this institution, as of late I have been conducting research to help a fellow court member.” You both took a few turns before you arrived at a door which had Rain’s name labeled on it in bold lettering. “This is the laboratory I use at times.”

Opening the door revealed a neat and orderly space. A tall bookshelf was on the left side wall. It was filled with hefty books and some scrolls. On the back wall was a shelf that was lined with various equipment. Some of them you could guess the usage, but some were far too odd to even think of what their usage could possibly be.

Then, on the right was a simple desk right next to a table. The desk didn’t have much of note, but you did spot a simple picture frame. In it was Rain with an older woman. His mother maybe? The table next to his desk was the only place that had an indication of disorder. Some paper with notes written upon them were scattered. Vials and tubes bubbling with unknown substances sat upon a higher section of the table.

“Excuse the mess.” The mage said, stepping into the room. With more caution, you followed. He wandered over to the table, picking up a vial that had been bubbling while sitting atop a gentle blue flame. He swirled it, the soft blue being reminiscent of ocean water. “Feel free to look around.” He told you, his eyes concentrated on the liquid he inspected.

“Alright.” You said, your gaze falling on the shelf lined with equipment. You stopped a foot away, squinting at the items. In your head, you tried to guess the use of them from their looks alone to pass the time. One item in particular caught your attention.

A small cube colored gold sat away from the other items in its own little section. It was rather unsuspecting. You couldn’t quite put a finger on why it drew you in, but you were enraptured by the small thing. Your fingers twitched, wanting to reach out to grab it, but you restrained yourself. A gentle footstep behind you snapped you out of your daze.

“Something caught your attention?” Rain inquired, stepping beside you. He looked towards the shelf, peering at where you had been moments before. He reached out to pluck the cube and looked at you, before holding it out to you. You held your hand out, and the cube, which was heavier than you were expecting, was dropped into your hand. “That’s a magic sensor of sorts. We use it to sense the potency in magic in things, whether it be solutions, in the air, or even in a person. Give it a try.”

“Okay.” You said, looking down at the cube. You stared at it, perplexed before glancing back up at your companion. You saw his hand squeeze at the air, indicating what you should do. Gently at first, you closed your hand around the cube, before putting all your strength into it. When your hand released, the cube began to glow.

Letters in a language you didn’t quite recognize appeared on the cube. A soft white glow appeared behind them. Your gaze flicked from the cube to the man. A delighted look appeared on his face, like he expected exactly that. Then, cube began to glow stronger before bursting into a flurry of colors. Bright pinks, greens, yellows, colors of any kind began to erupt out. You nearly took a step back, and you returned your gaze to Rain.

His reaction was a mixture of surprise and awe, far different from the reaction he had previously.

After the color show died down, you stared at it for a moment, eyebrows raised. You were dumbfounded, not knowing what any of that had meant. There was a brief silence that hung in the air. You sucked in a breath, putting a smile on your lips.

“Did I pass?” You joked, trying to diffuse the tension. You looked back and forth between the mage and the cube. The awestruck look on his face faded into something that seemed to indicate respect. He nodded as he grabbed the cube. He held it up, looking over the fading glow of the letters before placing it back onto the shelf. There was an undeniable gleam of interest in his eyes.

“With flying colors.”

“I’m back.” You announced, walking up to the table where all the Earthrealmers had been. The tour had gone all afternoon and leaked into the night. You both had been amazed by the fact that time had flown so fast past the two of you. The sky had just begun to turn dark when you had exited. “Did I miss much?” You inquired, looking at the group. You spotted an open spot, right between Kung Lao and Kenshi, and walked over to claim it.

Your mouth watered at the smell of the foods laid out to feast on. Your eyes alone feasted on everything in sight, and in that moment you understood what Kung Lao must feel like. After that realization, you snapped out of it.

“We all did our own thing, for the most part.” Kung Lao responded after swallowing the large mouthful he had been eating. You reached over and grabbed some food that had been out on the table, adding it to your plate. His eyes twinkled with excitement, the same excitement that made you tense up at how familiar it was. He leaned towards you with a happy grin. His elbow nudged your side. “So, how was the academy?”

“It was beyond anything I could have dreamed.” You admitted, cutting into your food. You popped a bite into your mouth, chewing it carefully as you considered the right words to say. It tasted even better than it looked “I was honestly amazed at how much magic could be contained within one place. Magic seemed to spill from even the walls.” Your eyes lit up as you recalled the grand statue in the academy. “They even had a grand statue to the goddess Delia. She's the goddess of magic.”

“They worship someone else than my main man, Liu Kang?” Johnny asked, eyebrows raised as he looked at you in surprise. He shrugged, and muttered something under his breath along the lines of go figure.

“What else do you expect?” Kenshi asked, sending a sharp look towards Johnny. There was a hint of exasperation in his face and his voice. “Do you really think Outworlders would worship an Earthrealm god?” He paused and sent an apologetic look to Liu Kang. “No offense, Lord Liu Kang.” He quickly added before returning to his meal.

“I take no offense, Kenshi.” Liu Kang replied, a pleasant look on his face. He turned his attention back to you. With a fork he gestured for you to go on. “Please, go on. I would like to hear about your little adventures within the academy.”

You nodded, a wide grin splitting your face. You went on and on, retelling all the wonders you had seen within the walls of the academy. From your lips was the praises of magic and how beautiful it could really be in the hands of those who wielded it. You talked on and on to the point where your food had gone slightly cold. As your speech ended, you noticed the way the others looked at you. Your cheeks flushed.

“Sounds like you fell in love with the place.” Kenshi observed. His eyes peered at you with careful observation. There was no judgement in his voice, something you were thankful for. You spotted a gleam in his eye, even.

“Yeah, the last time I’ve seen you this excited was when I told you that there was another Ninja Mime in the series.” Johnny pointed out, his fork pointing at you. He let out a small laugh. “I didn’t take you as the type to like magic that much, wildstyle. I thought you were all in on the whole teaching people how to fight thing.”

“A person can have multiple interests, Cage.” You said, rolling your eyes. “But I guess you’re not wrong, Kenshi.” You said, thoughtfully staring down into your plate. Even the marks left by the food you ate seemed to remind you of the swirls of magic you had seen earlier that day. “I ended up liking that place more than I was expecting. I forgot how much I loved to learn about things.”

“Do you think you would take an opportunity to study here if you could?” Raiden inquired, curious brown eyes looking at you. You paused, moving your fork around to push your food. Your lips pursed, and you looked up to see the gaze of Liu Kang staring at you. You remembered, for a brief moment, how this question felt all too familiar.

You tore your gaze away.

“Maybe.” You admitted, shrugging. You felt the burning gaze be lifted from your form as your answer left your lips. “I doubt I would be given a chance anyways, I’m an Earthrealmer.” You said, your gaze now falling down to your plate. “Plus, I think I’d miss you guys too much.” You added on, offering a small smile.

“We’d miss you too.” Kung Lao said, a wide smile pulling at his lips. His shoulder bumped yours. Your heart warmed at the sentiment. Your little smile grew a little wider as you picked up a piece of food and put it into your mouth. Mentally you replied to him. The mere thought of telling them this sent your heart aflutter and your cheeks went a little warm.

I know.

Sitting under the moonlight, you gazed up into the stars. You were sitting on the same bench, this time being the one waiting for the princess. You tried to see the constellations, the ones you had learned about earlier today, within the myriad of dots within the skies. This realm apparently had different stars, it was all so…interesting.

“Waiting for me today I see.” Mileena’s voice rang out, capturing your attention. You glanced over, seeing an amused smirk on her lips. You nodded, glancing back up to the starry night sky for a moment more before turning your full attention to the princess. She caught your gaze before looking up to the sky herself. “What is so enticing about the sky tonight?”

“Oh, nothing in particular.” You said, also returning your gaze to the sky above. “It’s just…different from Earthrealm.” Your hand gestured to the stars above. “For example, I learned that you have different constellations than we do back in Earthrealm. I suppose I just appreciate the differences between our homes.”

“Really?” She said, her gaze lingering on the sky for a moment. She squinted, as if trying to see what you did within the sky. “I never thought someone would be captivated by something as simple as a mere night sky.” The princess admits. Though her words felt almost demeaning, there was no bite behind them. It was just mere honesty. She stepped over to the bench and finally took a seat at the other end.

“I guess it is because our skies are a lot different.” You said, giving the princess a soft smile. “Our skies are a deeper blue, and our stars are not as numerous.” You say, indicating with your hand to the sky. “Some places can’t even see the stars even with a clear sky.” You paused, thinking back to the night sky back home. “But it feels like our stars do glow brighter where I’m from.”

“I see.” She said, her voice carrying a hint of intrigue. She stared at you, scanning your nearly awestruck look. “Not even our astronomers seem to hold the same reverence for the sky as you do.” She pointed out, a teasing tone to her voice.

“Maybe it’s because they haven’t seen the stars in other realms.” You offer up as an explanation. “Sometimes, to appreciate what you have you must see other perspectives and things that you are not used to.”

“Perhaps.” Mileena replied, a tone you couldn’t quite place down in her voice.

“I must be boring you.” You said, realizing you had rambled on about the stars for a bit too long. You forced your eyes away from the sky, back onto the ground. You cleared your throat and straightened up, collecting your thoughts. “What type of story would you like to hear about today?” You asked, already trying to narrow down which movie to recollect to her.

“I think tonight I would like to simply hear you tell me about the differences between Earthrealm and Outworld.” Mileena said, her eyes seeming to hold a hint of encouragement. “I’ve never heard someone speak so kindly about both realms…it’s refreshing.” Her hand gestured to you, and you couldn’t help the wide smile. “It almost makes me want to seek out these differences when the next tournament comes.”

“If that’s what you wish, then let me fulfill your request, princess.”

And so on this night, the story you told was of two realms, and just how their differences made you appreciate them both a bit more.

part fourteen

tagged - @bonezisded @lollipopin @simpxinnie @zhivaxo @koisuko

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