#it's very hard for him to relax relinquish control and trust that everything will work out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

breakyeol · 4 years ago

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— ALL TIED UP

┗ Pairing : Kyungsoo x Reader

Genre: shameless smut

Words: 3k

Rating: 18+

Warnings: strong language, explicit sexual content ; light bondage, blindfolds, body worship, oral (m. receiving), edging, unprotected sex

A/N; plz this was supposed to be a birthday post for soo but I’m so late it’s not even funny. but blindfolded soo is too hot not to write so here you go lovers, enjoy!!

Lace looks good on him, you decided then, admiring the masterpiece laid out beneath you with a satisfied smirk. Black lace and black silk, a perfect combination. The lace, tied securely around your boyfriend’s beautiful eyes. The silk, around his slim wrists.

“Remind me why I agreed to this?” Kyungsoo grumbled, flexing his fingers experimentally from within their binds. You grinned to yourself, trailing your own lightly over the warm swells of his chest.

“Because you love me and trust me and know I can make you feel… so good.” Those final words were all but purred against the pink tinted shell of his ear, a sense of smug pride settling over you when he shivered in response, lips parting to let out a shaky breath.

You knew what he was experiencing. You knew how every sensation felt amplified. Without his sight, he was forced to feel, to hone in on each one of his other senses. He took notice of things he probably wouldn’t have otherwise. Unable to see what you were doing, he was on edge, left in thick anticipation of your every move. Every touch was a surprise. He had relinquished himself to you, body and mind, left himself completely at your mercy.

His head kicked back into the pillows as your mouth drifted to his throat, bathing him with slow, purposeful kisses. Each one fanned the flames of his lust, growing larger and greedier with every touch. From your peripheral vision, you caught the downward movement of his bound hands from where you had specifically told him to keep them above his head. You reached up, easily pinning them back against the mattress.

“You do trust me, don’t you, Soo?” The low, sultry thrum of your voice caressed his feverish skin, and he felt the weight of them in his blood.

“Yes.” He whispered, grunting softly when you sunk your teeth into his collarbone.

You smiled, laving your tongue soothingly over the afflicted area. “Good.” And then your mouth was on his. He groaned hotly into your kiss, and you giggled as his eager tongue licked at the seam of your lip. Was he already getting worked up? You’d barely even started. It was surprisingly fun seeing the usually so controlled Doh Kyungsoo unraveling beneath you just because of a little lacy blindfold.

It hadn’t taken as much convincing to get him into this position as you first thought it would.

Kyungsoo was the kind of man that took pleasure in taking things slow and dragging things out with deep kisses and gentle caresses. He liked to take his sweet time when he had his way with your body, nipping and teasing until you were squirming and begging and just barely hanging onto your ever dwindling sanity. And shit if those weren’t some of the best orgasms you ever had— you just wanted to return the favor.

“You know, you have the most amazing lips.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“I’m very serious. I can’t even look at you without wanting to kiss you.” You pressed your thumb into the full flesh, drawing it gently down and releasing in order to watch it bounce temptingly back into place.

“That’s just because you have no self control.” He argued, nipping at the pad of your thumb.

You cocked your head, humming thoughtfully. “Valid point.”

His lips parted with the intention of teasing, but any playful comment was abruptly cut off when you redirected your attention back to his sensitive throat, attacking the sweet spot just below the corner of his jaw that you knew made him weak. “Y/n—”

“Shh, just relax, baby… let me take care of you.”

He exhaled a shaky breath from his nose, snagging his lower lip tightly between his teeth and nodded, allowing his body to melt into the mattress.

“Good boy.”

“Suck my dick.” He hissed, only to sigh blissfully as you began kissing hotly down the length of his neck, staining his honeyed skin in lovely shades of pink and red.

“I was planning on it.”

Kyungsoo laughed then, a deep bubbly rumbling that you felt vibrate against your lips. Truly, you couldn’t stop yourself from sinking your teeth into his adam’s apples as it bobbed in front of you all too temptingly. He growled softly in retaliation, but you could feel the solid heat of him pressing up gently between your hips. The subtle friction made the muscles of your thighs tremble in need, fierce desire licking at your veins.

The sight of him beneath you, bound and vulnerable and eager (despite trying -and failing- to hide it), glistening in sweat and practically shaking in anticipation, was affecting you way more than you thought it would. Something about having him like this set your blood on fire in an entirely different way than you were used to. Having such control over him, over his pleasure and desire, was giving you a total power rush. If you weren’t careful, you’d develop a complex. Then your handsome boyfriend would have to put you back in your place. Not that you’d mind…

But those were thoughts for another night.

Sinking your fingers into his tight waist, you slowly descended his body; nipping, kissing and licking over every curve, every edge, every soft spot. “You’re so beautiful.” You breathed against his warm stomach, gaze flashing up to catch even the faintest of nuances in his expression. His brows curled, jaw opening around a silent gasp as your lips feathered over his hip bones, greedy touch traveling over the defined muscles of his thighs.

“Fuck, y/n—” the strained groan had you clenching around empty air, lust coiling in your chest.

“You’re so hard, Soo.” You moaned, sitting back on your heels as you admired his length. Thick and red and weeping, a heavy pool of precum collecting on the gentle slope of his belly. Lowering your head, you dragged your tongue through it, humming at the salty taste of him. His stomach flinched and tightened, his chest swelling as he swallowed lungfuls of hot air.

“Stop teasing and touch me.” It was probably supposed to sound demanding, but it came out as nothing of the sort. The way the words trembled and quivered from his gaping lips, thick and heavy in his throat, sounded nothing short of imploring. And damn you if you weren’t about to give him everything he wanted and more.

Kyungsoo gasped out a low curse at the first calculated flick of your tongue over his swollen head, veined hands curling into tight fights around the sheets above his head. Heat pooled in your stomach, even the subtle reaction enough to make you greedy for more. Humming, you licked a wet strip from base to tip, a violent tremble wracking his body in response. You could feel his self control already beginning to wane, a soft whimper breaking free from behind clenched teeth as you took him fully into your mouth.

“Oh fuck…”

His voice sounded so lovely, smooth and lustrous like the black silk wrapped around his wrists, breathless and light where it flickered through the air around your head. You teased the skin of his hips, digging your nails in each time they bucked. His spine curved, a deep groan pulsing from his chest as you hollowed your cheeks, skillfully tracing the thick vein lining the underside of his cock with the tip of your tongue.

“Careful, baby. Careful.” He seethed, head snapping back as his jaw clenched. The warning in his voice clear, the tension in his thighs telling you all you needed to know about just how near he was to the edge. You hummed in acknowledgment, but the vibrations it sent pulsing through his cock threw his entire body into a fit of violent trembles, the resistance he put up against his oncoming orgasm wrenching a broken sob from his swollen lips. “Y/n!”

You pulled off of him with a soft chuckle, resorting to pressing soothing kisses to the warm insides of shaking his thighs.

“Sorry, love.” You crooned, kissing up his body until you were level with his face.

For a moment, you were tempted to pull off the blindfold, just to see the look in those beautiful brown eyes. But some level of self restraint was necessary if you were planning to follow through. So you swallowed the urge, satiating the fire in your belly with the taste of his mouth instead.

“Fucking hell.” He growled roughly, kissing you back with a ferocity that you supposed was intended to take his mind off the desperate throbbing of his cock.

Kyungsoo was breathing hard through his nose, quick shallow breaths that rushed out against the skin of your upper lip. You tried to pull away, worried he might pass out from oxygen from deprivation if you denied him of air any longer, but he chased your mouth, sinking his teeth punishingly into tender flesh your lower lip once he caught up. It was the only thing he could think to do to keep you close.

You rolled your hips back against the hardness of his cock in retaliation, though unsure if it was meant to discipline or reward. Probably both. Regardless, he moaned, subsequently releasing you from the harsh bite of his teeth.

“Do that again. Fuck, I need to feel you. I need to feel you baby, please.” He gritted out, words rushed and jumbled as he rutted up against you. You moaned at the unexpected friction, bracing your hands on his silk-bound wrists to keep from doubling over. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth at the sound. “That feel good?”

“Mhm.” You hummed breathlessly, head tilting back as you rolled yourself over him again, reveling in the resulting rush of warmth. You could see the fluttering of his eyelids behind the lace, searching desperately through all encompassing the darkness for something, for anything— for you.

Then his fingers grazed your wrist and the corner of his mouth twitched triumphantly. “Hold my hand.”

The demand was so unexpected that you couldn’t help the sharp giggle of astonishment that spewed dumbly from your lips. “You want me… to hold your hand?” Repeating the words did nothing to hinder the sudden onslaught of laughter.

Kyungsoo smiled blindly up in your general direction, that dopey heart shaped grin that never failed to make your heart flutter stupidly in your chest. The one that made it feel like time itself was slowing down so that you could treasure it for just a few moments longer. “I want you to hold my hand… and fuck me like you love me.”

Another giggle, your nose wrinkling from the sheer absurdity of the request. “But I do love you.”

He pivoted his chin, cocking a sassy brow. “Then it shouldn’t be difficult.”

“Point made.” You acknowledged, smoothly intertwining your fingers with his and simultaneously sinking down on his length. He cried out, the suddenness of your walls around him stealing all of the oxygen from his lungs. So wet and tight and hot, squeezing in all the right places. He was goddamn dizzy.

A sound of bliss escaped your gaping lips, your eyes fluttering shut as your cunt stretched deliciously to accommodate his familiar girth. You didn’t move at first, remaining still as you adjusted to the intrusion, relishing in the mere sensation of being full. But then you heard a small plea, Kyungsoo’s grip around your hands tightening drastically, and you go pliant under the weight of his need.

You know how he likes it. Deep and slow, dragging out and savoring each precious moment until it feels like every inch of your souls has been set to flames. He likes it when every movement has intention, purpose, from the stroke of his hips to the flutter of his eyes. He likes the toe-curling passionate kind of sex that hits you so deep in your chest that you couldn’t fathom any other kind. The kind that makes your love for him sore like a burning phoenix through the night sky.

You weren’t sure if you’d be able to do it as well as he did, if you’d be able to make his toes curl and his soul blaze, but you’d give it your best shot— and that was more than enough for him.

You move over him like liquid, with slow, languid motions that require a surprising amount of effort, drowning him in the dark depths of your desire with every deliberate thrust. Beneath you, Kyungsoo’s back bowed deeply off the mattress, his sweat soaked chest pressing flush against yours. Like that, you could feel the rapid thundering of his heart, each beat echoing through your bones.

Full lips caressed the shape of your name, stroking each syllable like it was his saving grace, his holy salvation. You felt yourself leaning into the sound, seeking out his voice between your own breathless moans.

Heady desperation gnawed at your self restraint, the deep burn gradually consuming the muscles in your thighs and core forcing a sloppiness into the previously controlled movement of your hips. But Kyungsoo made no complaint, whispering only praises against the raw flesh of your lips. Each sultry word fed the raging fire in your belly, pouring gasoline onto the flames created by the pressure of his cock gripped within your walls.

Dull nails bit into your knuckles and Kyungsoo let out a gasp of your name. “I’m close.” He warned between jagged inhales, but you could only cry out as his hips snapped up violently, burying the whole of his length inside your wet cunt.

“Soo— oh god—!” you went still above him, panting and gasping and shaking as he began fucking himself into you from underneath. Though the space was limited, he still managed to plunge into you with a force that fractured your sanity. The strong grip he had on your trembling hands was the only thing keeping you from collapsing on top of him. Each vicious thrust succeeded in hitting that vulnerable bundle of nerves, stars flickering behind your closed eyelids.

“You feel perfect. I bet you look gorgeous.” His voice was a hoarse snarl, searing against your throat and lashing across your tongue. You keened into the destructive sound of it, loving the way it ruined you. “Wanna see you, baby. Wanna see you when you come all over my cock. Let me see you, gorgeous, please. Please.”

You didn’t bother trying to respond, knowing any words would only fracture like glass on your lips. Instead, with quivering fingers, you clumsily tugged the lace off from over his eyes, casting it uncaringly onto a nearby pillow. Pools of pure blackness greet you; blown, unfocused pupils immediately locking on yours. There was nothing but pure, blazing, unbridled lust, so deep and intoxicating that it made your head spin.

The corner of his mouth curled dangerously. “Hands, too?”

Nodding dumbly, you fumbled with the silk tie binding his wrists. The moment it went slack, his hands were on you, greedy and rough and everywhere; in your hair, on your throat, groping your chest, gripping your ass. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, suffocating on the fire he was breathing into your lungs.

In a split second, you were sprawled on your back, moaning and gasping as Kyungsoo pistoled his hips into yours.

“So. Fucking. Perfect.”

You wrapped your legs tightly around him, heels pressing into the ample swells of his ass as you gripped onto him for dear life. “I’m gonna come— Soo, I’m gonna come—” you were babbling like a fool, speaking clumsily into the skin on his shoulder. He groaned throatily at the pressure of your teeth on his collarbone, thrusts speeding up to a punishing pace. Deep and hard and passionate, you felt each one resonating through the very core of your being.

A hand slid between your sweat soaked bodies, skilled fingers making quick work of locating your clit. A violent tremor seized your body, a strangled whimper bursting from your chest. Hot pleasure pulsed through you, unrelenting and overwhelming. You squirmed and begged, writhing in bliss beneath his ministrations. Then all at once you cried out, spine arching, muscles tensing as your high crashed over you.

“That’s it. Fuck, good girl. That’s it.”

The world around you swam, blurry and out of focus as the force of your orgasms ripped through you like a wildfire. You felt Kyungsoo faltering above you, hiccuping moans shuddering past his swollen lips. Then he tensed, choked on a gasp, and you felt the warmth of his release pouring into you. Your muscles went slack, head falling back into the pillows as you surrendered yourself to the post-orgasmic bliss that draped itself over you.

A shiver rippled down your spine as he gently pulled out, before collapsing onto your chest. You giggled breathlessly as he nuzzled his face between your breasts, his damp hair tickling your throat.

“That was amazing.” He hummed contently against your feverish skin.

“I told you you’d like it.” You remarked with a smug grin, yelping in shock when he nipped at one of your nipples in retaliation for lack of a better response. You shoved at his shoulders playfully and he rolled off of you with a low grunt, providing you with the perfect opportunity to escape into your connected bathroom for a hot shower. But the second you were on your feet, a hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. You spun with a gasp, falling gracelessly back onto the mattress.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Kyungsoo all but growled, crawling on top of you, an animalistic glint in his hooded eyes.

“To wash up?” You said slowly, though it came out as more of a question.

He chuckled, a low, devilish sound that made your thighs subconsciously squeeze. “Oh, we’re not done yet.”

Your brows raised, and you were shocked at the spark of excitement that rushed directly to your spent core. “We’re not?”

He dragged the tip of his tongue salaciously over the full pink flesh of his lower lip and reached over to pick up the lace blindfold, dangling it tauntingly in front of your face.

“It’s my turn.”

#exo #exo fanfic #exo smut #kyungsoo #exo kyungsoo #kyungsoo x reader #kyungsoo fanfic #kyungsoo fanfiction #kyungsoo smut #do kyungsoo #exo x reader #exo fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

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avengerscompound · 4 years ago

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Small Gods: Lost Objects - 6

Lost Objects: A Thor Fanfic

Lost Objects Masterlist | More Small Gods PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Thor x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 1722

Warnings: Smut (MF, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, anal sex)

Synopsis: Thor has lost a lot in a very short period of time and he’s worried about losing himself too. He goes to the one person who understands loss.

Chapter 6

Thor was in an exceptionally good mood when he woke. You lay against him, your head resting on his chest and your arm draped over his stomach. You smelled of sex and in these early hours, there was something exceptionally erotic about the scent mixed with the warm and dusty scent of your home. He rolled so he was spooning you and pulled you close to him. You mumbled in your sleep. A gentle contended noise of someone who was completely happy just where they were.

He was beginning to feel it too. Thor had always been so full of wanderlust. The thrill of battle called to him, even when he learned humility, he still longed for a cause to fight, the comradery of the battlefield, and to see the galaxy. It was what had made him a restless king and a less than perfect romantic partner. He couldn’t sit still for long enough to give himself to anything completely.

The only time in the past that he’d ever just stayed in one place was after Asgard had been destroyed and he’d lost the fight with Thanos. Then he had ended up slipping into a deep depression and locking himself in his house. Even then it had taken the promise of revenge to get him outside.

Right at this moment, he felt like Barnaby. Just a warm, well-fed house cat sitting in a beam of light. Part of him knew it wouldn’t last. He may have relinquished his role as king but he was still the god of thunder - and much like the thunder, he couldn’t be contained. For now, he would appreciate the quiet and the fact he had you, his brother, Mjolnir, a fat ginger cat, and a sense of peace.

He kissed your neck and began to slowly knead your breasts. You moaned softly and your lips parted. They were soft and tempting and he teased his fingers over them. Your tongue slowly flicked out and traced over the tips as you moaned softly. Thor chuckled softly. “Are you awake, lover?” He whispered.

You hummed and pushed your ass back against him but didn’t say anything. He chuckled again and pushed his fingers into your mouth and began to suck on them. He smiled and slowly began to roll his hips against your bare ass, his cock gradually hardening against your warm flesh.

He continued to tug and pull on your nipples, loving the way they hardened under his touch, along with the moans they drew from deep within you. His hand traveled downward, skimming over your stomach and down between your legs. His fingers teased over your clit, toying with the sensitive little bud. You were still slick from last night, and as his fingers moved between your folds you gasped and your lips parted in silent pleasure. Your legs spread and you hooked an ankle behind his thigh, giving him more access to your needy cunt. He slipped two fingers inside you slowly, stretching your entrance and humming as your internal walls clamped tightly around them. He pumped them in and out, curling them slightly and dragging his fingertips over your walls. You moaned and ground back against his cock, leaning your head back and looking up at him. Thor smiled and watched the look of pleasure on your face as he worked your cunt. He captured your lips, kissing you hungrily, his tongue darting out and circling yours. You mewled and reached behind you, slipping your hand between the two of you and wrapping it around his shaft. You pumped his cock and slid the head up and down your ass crack, leaving a sticky trail of pre-come in its wake.

Thor pulls back, tugging you over, his fingers still buried in your wet heat. You move willingly, arching your back and spreading your legs as an invitation to him. He ignored it, for now, continuing to use his hand as he leaned down and pulled one hard nipple into his mouth. You cried out and bucked up hard against his hand. “Oh gods,” you gasped.

He pressed his teeth down on the hardened bud and continued to fuck you with his fingers, his thumb working your clit. You cunt quivered and fluttered around his fingers and he twisted his wrist. You clenched suddenly and came, crying out as you arched off the bed.

Thor pulled back and flipped you over. You squealed and wriggled on the bed, popping your ass up. He ran his hands down your back and over your ass, prying your cheeks apart. He spat on your asshole and rubbed the pad of his thumb over it. “I want to claim your ass,” he purred softly. “May I?”

You squirmed pushing up against his hand needily, pushing his thumb into you slightly. “It’s been a long time,” you said. “And you’re very big.”

He leaned in and swirled his tongue over your tight hole. “Do you trust me?” he asked as you moaned loudly and your pussy dripped.

“Yes, Thor,” you whimpered. “Always.”

He spat onto your ass and reached over, grabbing the scented lubricant off the stack of books you used as a side table. He squeezed some, first between your ass cheeks and then over his fingers. He began to tease his fingers over your asshole and gently eased one in. He reached around and began to play with your now overstimulated clit as he gently pumped his finger in and out of your ass. Your moans filled the room as he stimulated your ass and pussy at the same time. He was patient and gentle with you, letting you relax fully before pushing in deeper. It wasn’t long until your ring muscle had given and you were taking two of his fingers, mewling and biting on your pillow as he did. He spread them slowly and pulled them out.

“Are you ready, goddess?” He growled.

“Yes, Thor,” you mewled. “Give it to me.”

He poured more lube on your ass and along the length of his cock, making a thick, sticky mess. You lifted your hips more like you were presenting yourself to him, he groaned at the sight of you and lined his cock up, and slowly eased himself in.

You mewled, biting down into the pillow as he sunk into your ass. He groaned at the sight of his cock disappearing into your tight passage and the way it clamped tight around him.

He pressed his whole body on top of you, wrapping one arm around your chest and the other around your neck, his forearm pressing against your throat. “How does it feel, lover?”

“Hurts… but good. Both,” you whimpered. “Fuck me, Thor.”

He was more than willing to comply. He began to roll his body against yours thrusting into you, deeper and deeper. You clenched and pulsed around him, moaning into the pillows and reaching behind to tangle your fingers into his hair. He groaned as you tugged on his hair and pulled him down against you more. “Fuck, Thor,” you moaned. “Oh god…”

“You feel so good, lover,” he groaned against your ear. He moved his hand down to play with your clit again and you began to completely lose control. There was no concern about being quiet, you vocalized everything you felt. He knew when he caused you pain and when he caused you pleasure and when you walked that fine line where it seemed as if you would split in two, and he made sure he adjusted accordingly.

“I’m gonna come,” you cried out, bucking under him.

“That’s it, goddess,” he growled. “I’m right with you.”

You tensed up, gripping the sheets and with a loud cry you came, your back curving as you pushed up against him. Thor’s hips began to stutter and he pulled you back up to him, kissing you passionately as he chased his release. He groaned into your lips and pulled out, jerking his cock, and with a roar, that rumbled in the air around him he came, painting your ass and back with thick ropes of semen.

“Gods,” you moaned, collapsing down on the bed. “That was … quite the way to wake up.”

Thor chuckled and scooped you up into his arms. “Let us bathe,” he said. “I have made quite the mess of you.”

After a long shower, you and Thor emerged into the rest of the house, to find Loki reclining back on the couch with Barnaby sitting on his chest. He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the couch, his back popping in protest. Barnaby jumped off and made an indignant ‘mrowf’ sound as he landed on the ground.

“Finally finished rutting like a couple of mindless beasts have you?” Loki sneered. “My sleep was terrible, thank you for asking. This … couch… is one of the least comfortable pieces of furniture I’ve ever encountered.”

“Cheer up, brother!” Thor said, clapping Loki on the shoulder. “It’s not so bad. Come. I will make us a feast.”

“You?” Loki asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “Since when could you cook.”

“I guess we’ll find out,” Thor laughed.

“While you do that, I’ll go and check on Mjolnir,” you said.

Thor grinned at you and pecked your lips before heading into the kitchen with Loki on his heel.

“I don’t know what is worse,” Loki snarked. “When you were wasting your time with mortals or now you’re wasting your time with minor deities. At least with the mortals, you were just lowering yourself briefly. How long will you stay in this… hovel … with someone so beneath you?”

“Watch your tongue,” Thor growled, without looking up from the cupboard he was rummaging in.

“It wouldn’t be so bad if it were just you,” Loki continued. “Judging from your… condition… you are dealing with some things. But you’re keeping me trapped here with you.”

“What would you prefer?” Thor asked, turning on him. “To be returned to prison? That’s where you were, wasn’t it?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “How long will you stay here? I know you brother. You won’t be happy here with her. You’re just going to end up hurting her.”

“You know nothing of what you speak,” Thor shouted.

Loki rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said. “Keep telling yourself you will be happy trapped in this hovel for the rest of your days. I’m so glad I get to be trapped here while you have your existential crisis.”

Thor huffed and went back to cooking trying to ignore the things his brother spoke. The problem was that for once it wasn’t just Loki’s silver tongue at work. He was right. Not about you. You weren’t beneath him - not as far as Thor was concerned. Loki was right about Thor though. He couldn’t stay here forever.

By the time the bacon and eggs were sizzling in the pan and Barnaby was eating from a tin of tuna, you returned with Mjolnir. “She’s complete,” you said, laying the tray out in front of Loki.

Loki looked at the pieces curiously and lifted one of them in his hand, a look of surprise on his face as he rolled it over in his fingers. “Well I am worthy of this piece at least,” Loki teased. “And what do we propose to do with this?”

“It might be possible to use magic to reform it,” you said. “It has a connection to Thor, correct? Perhaps if the three of us work together we can bring it back to its original form.”

“I think a visit to Nidavellir would be more useful,” Loki said. “How did this even happen, brother?”

Thor looked at his brother and sighed. He was so close to his Loki, but the things he was missing were the things that had fixed their relationship. “Our sister destroyed it,” Thor said. “And Nidavellir is all but lost too.”

Loki looked up at him, opened his mouth, closed it again, and shook his head. “What exactly happened on this timeline, brother?”

// NEXT

#thor #thor odinson #thor x reader #thor fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #smut #small gods #lost objects

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chelsfic · 5 years ago

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Leftovers - Part 10 - Nandor the Relentless x Reader fanfic

Previous parts: Masterlist

Summary: Nandor attempts to use his powers of hypnosis to heal the reader’s broken brain, Nadja tries to be a good friend, and Guillermo gets something he’s been waiting for...

Warnings: Smut in this chapter!, Female Reader, Hypnosis, Blood drinking

A/N: I hope you like this part! I thought I owed you guys some smut and fluff after the angst of the last chapter...

---

“You are now under my command…”

Nandor’s voice is rich and thick like chocolate syrup. You feel as though you’re sinking under the weight of his influence, falling into his deep, dark eyes and beneath the surface of his droning voice. Your limbs grow heavy and relaxed. It should be a terrifying experience but instead you feel utterly at peace, relinquishing control. Trusting that Nandor will keep you safe.

The vampire swallows, watching the spirit drain from your face with a qualm of panic in his gut. He can do this.

He keeps his hand raised in front of your face, flourishing it as he speaks, “Attend to my words. You will remember the events of the night of the vampire rave. You will regain the memories that were erased from your mind. And...yeah that’s about it.”

He shrugs and lets his hand drop, bending forward to lean his forehead against yours as he holds your gaze, “And now you will awake with your memories healed and the pain gone…”

He leans away, biting his fist in anxiety as he watches you slowly rouse from the trance.

The nagging ache of your erased memories is gone, but in its place you’re momentarily assaulted with vivid images that flash through your mind’s eye like scenes from a movie. You experience the pulsing music and flashing lights of the rave as if you’re really there. You’re lightheaded and dizzy with alcohol and then...a voice making clumsy rhymes into your ear as hands drag you backwards into a shadowy corner.

“Drug blood chillin’... ain’t no villain… just a quick sip, don’t gotta worry ‘bout killin’...”

Pain. Fear. And then a voice calling casually, “Forget it, boo.”

The memories fade and you finally come back to the present, looking up into Nandor’s worried eyes and smiling unsteadily.

“It worked,” you say and then you’re falling against him, clutching the front of his shirt and shaking like a leaf.

“Of course it worked,” Nandor replies with a chastising tone. “You doubted me?”

You snort into the fabric of his shirt and hold on tighter. He lowers you both back into the coffin and gently closes the lid, groaning as he settles down beside you.

“Everything is alright now,” Nandor sighs. “Isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, wiggling into a comfier position and then adding, “Nandor? Do you know a vampire who raps?”

Nandor’s body goes rigid beside you and he growls, “Fu-cking guy!”

---

The next night, Nadja sits in front of the camera with her arms crossed over her chest and a pout on her red lips.

“I have no idea why such a vibrant, wicked little warrior baby would want anything to do with Sir Snakes-for-Brains…” she shakes her head. “He’s like, ‘Oh! I am Nandor the Relentless! Look at my giant balls while I set your hut on fire!’ What’s the appeal?”

She rolls her eyes and throws up her hands. “But my stupid human child wants what she wants. And he has been making her very sad for days. Enough is enough!”

She jumps out of her seat and stalks down the hallway, trailing the camera operator behind her. As she nears Nandor’s door she catches her heel on the carpet and nearly trips.

“Fucking witches again!” she shrieks before throwing open the door to Nandor’s room.

Nadja freezes in the doorway and the camera guy films over her shoulder.

Nandor has you laid out on the thick, fur rug next to his casket. His face is buried between your legs and your fingers twist into his hair as you arch your back. At the sound of the door slamming open you tilt your head back and shriek, “Nadja!”

Nadja’s face splits into a delighted grin and she swats the camera crew away behind her.

“My mistake, little chicky,” she trills, slowly backing out. When the door is nearly closed she pops her head back in and calls, “I never should have doubted your vicious seduction powers, mortal! You go girl!”

Nandor raises his head, his lips and beard glistening with your arousal and he whines, “Get out of here! Fucking hell…”

---

You hold out for about ten seconds after the door closes before bursting into giggles. Nandor breaks down with you, his brows arching up adorably as he wheezes with laughter. After a moment, he crawls up your naked body and settles down over you. The hard length of his erection brushes against your heated core and you whine a little with need. He rests his elbows on either side of you, caging you in with his strong arms and leaning down to lick a trail down your neck. Goosebumps erupt over your skin and a pleasant shiver runs down your spine.

“They won’t use that in the documentary, right?” you pant, caught between arousal and worry. You jerk your hips a little, seeking some friction, but Nandor presses down to keep you still.

He drags his fangs over the beating pulse in your neck before replying, “If they do I will rip off their heads and set fire to their villages.”

He twists his fingers into the hair at the base of your skull, pulling your head back to bare your throat. You gulp, overwhelmed with the need for him inside of you. In your fuzzy brain you’re not even sure it matters to you if it’s his fangs or his cock...you just need him.

“Maybe--uh, maybe we could try asking nicely first,” you tease.

“You are going to make me soft, little mortal,” he complains, nudging your legs apart and lining himself up at your entrance. He presses forward just slightly, enough for you to feel the pressure and the promise of his delicious girth.

You reach down to run your hands along his sides, his hips, cupping his round buttocks and squeezing.

“You don’t feel soft to me…” you laugh and then he’s pushing forward, burying himself inside of you with abandon. His mouth falls open and he darts forward quicker than your eyes can follow, closing his mouth on your tender throat and biting down with a feral growl as he slams inside you.

Nandor shuts his eyes, gripped in the heady sensation of feeding during sex. Sex-feeding. If he’d known it could be this good he would’ve taken a human lover ages ago.

Nandor throws his head back, blood dripping from his chin and onto your naked breasts. He grips your hips, rolling his pelvis against you with unnatural speed until your thighs shake around him and he cries out with his orgasm.

He falls down beside you, gathering you into his arms and tucking you against his chest with a satisfied purr. You tilt your head back and press your mouth to his, tasting your own blood on his tongue.

“Do I still taste good...now that I’m all impure?” you ask, trying for a light tone, but somehow deeply caring about his answer.

“You taste delicious,” Nandor assures you, burying his face into the crook of your neck and lapping up the slow ooze of blood from your wound. He pulls back, smacking his lips and adding, “Sweet and salty. Like one of your human chocolate pretzel snacks.”

A smile tugs at your lips and you duck your head bashfully. He reaches a hand up to brush his fingers through your hair and you hum contentedly at the feel of his nails dragging along your scalp.

“Well, that’s all you’re getting for now is a snack,” you sigh, sitting up and stretching your limbs, cat-like. You cover your mouth as a yawn escapes your throat. “I need to go bandage this…”

“Unless…” Nandor trails off, looking up at you with his big, liquid eyes full of feigned innocence. You remind yourself that your boyfriend is a 13th century Persian war lord.

“Unless…” you echo, smirking in amusement at him.

“You wish to make your unholy transition this very night!” Nandor enthuses, sitting up with an eager glimmer in his eyes. “In which case band-aids will be unnecessary.”

You roll your eyes with affection and respond, “We talked about this already, remember? My condition?”

Nandor’s shoulders slump and he looks put out as he replies, “Oh...right. You were serious about that?”

---

The camera is pointed at you as you lounge on one of the couches in the fancy room, biting into a green apple and carefully chewing before you reply.

“I told him he has to make Guillermo a vampire first.”

---

“Knock, knock!” Nandor singsongs, poking his head through the curtain that serves as the door to Guillermo’s tiny room.

He finds his familiar seated on his sad, twin bed with his laptop open. He’s sipping a Yoohoo and listening to something on his headphones.

“Master!” Guillermo exclaims, pushing aside the laptop and slipping off the headphones.

Nandor smiles awkwardly, his fangs biting into his lower lip, and asks, “Do you have a moment to talk, Guillermo? I don’t want to interrupt your computing machine time…”

“Of course!” Guillermo answers. “Is there something you need?”

“No, not at all,” Nandor sits down gingerly on the edge of the bed, awkwardly toying with the hem of his cape as he searches for words. “It is what you are needing, maybe. Guillermo, you’ve been a very good familiar to me… I know I have not always been the easiest vampire to work with…”

Nandor pauses for a beat, looking expectantly at his familiar until Guillermo takes the hint and rushes to insist, “Nonsense! You’re...you’re not difficult at all.”

Guillermo’s eyes flash to the camera and instantly dart away again.

“That’s kind of you to say. But it’s true, I’ve been demanding and… maybe even a little insensitive to your needs. You’ve worked for me for many years and now, I think it’s time for a reward that reflects your service and loyalty.”

Nandor stops and watches Guillermo with a glint in his eye as he waits for his familiar’s reaction. For his part, Guillermo can’t help glancing at the glitter portrait hanging over his desk with trepidation as he asks, “Is it another...craft?”

Nandor scoffs and barely suppresses a grin as he answers, “No, Guillermo. It’s even better than a glitter portrait. I’m going to make you a vampire!”

Whatever reaction Nandor expected, it wasn’t this. Guillermo’s face lights up for a brief instant and then his eyes roll into the back of his head and he collapses into his pillow in a faint.

Nandor jumps up, leaning over his prone familiar with a frown and exclaiming, “Oh no! He’s died already!”

---

Guillermo awakes a few minutes later, blinking his eyes open to see his master looming over him and flicking droplets of Yoohoo onto his face.

“Oh, good, you’re not dead!” Nandor says mildly, sitting back and waiting for Guillermo to regain his faculties.

Guillermos’ voice comes out breathless, “You...did you really say you’re going to make me a vampire?”

Nandor smiles, congratulating himself on the surprise as he answers, “Yes! I’m really going to make you a vampire, Guillermo. Tonight. If you’re ready…”

“But…” Guillermo shakes his head slowly, trying to process this news. He’s delirious with happiness but after so much disappointment he can’t help but be skeptical. “Why now?”

“Eh…” Nandor grimaces awkwardly and flicks his eyes to the camera. “It may have been a condition of turning my human into a vampire...She won’t let me turn her unless I do you, too.”

“Oh…of course,” Guillermo sounds dejected and his shoulders slump forward.

“Unless you no longer wish to become a vampire…” Nandor moves as if he’s about to leave and Guillermo jumps forward, practically throwing himself into his master’s arms.

“No! I want to be a vampire!” he insists, desperation in his tone.

“Very well,” Nandor throws his cape over his shoulder and turns toward Guillermo, “Prepare yourself!”

Guillermo, trembling with nerves and excitement, tilts his head to the side and answers, “I’m ready, master.”

---

A/N: Heeeeyyyoooo, I couldn’t let my baby, Guillermo, have another Jenna incident. I hope you guys liked this chapter! We’re closing in on the finale.

Tags:

@festering-queen @kandomeresbitch @strangestdiary @glitterportrait @scuzmunkie @redwoodshadows @sarasxe @rileyomalley

#nandor the relentless #nandor #nandor the relentless x reader #nandor the relentless fanfic #nandor the relentless smut #nandor x reader #nandor the relentless imagine #wwdits fanfic #wwdits smut

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dragonswithjetpacks · 4 years ago

Text

The Gratitude of a Hunter

-dragonswithjetpacks

Summary: Ferelith roams the wood at night in search of a clear mind. Just as she finds silence, she finds a beast awaits. Rather than flee, she tames the beast. And extends an offer.

Notes: I have not given anything for BG3 in awhile. While Theurgist is still under works, I am afraid I am stuck. So as a treat and an apology gift, I give this to you all. I have also been extended my writing. So this is not written in my past-tense third party style. If there are mistakes made, please let me know as I am fairly knew to this type. Thank you all so much! <3

Read here on Ao3!

The memories of a place I once called home are still fresh in my head. As I walk through the trees, I can remember the smell of freshly cleaned wood. Though it was never clean for long. The lower part of Baldur’s Gate was dirty. And my shop was filled with dust. With every stack of books I moved, it would shift. And my counters would be dirty again. On the other hand, the trees would always be this way; untampered. Unlike me. Unlike this shift in my head. Unlike the crushing wave of anxiety growing in my chest with every second I felt Fian stir uncomfortably in the back of my thoughts. I wish the trees brought me peace as they did before. But now they look more like the tombstone for my grave.

At least the nights are peaceful here. If there was anything louder than the noise in my head, I am very likely snap. No one would blame me, or so I believe. Even if they did, they wouldn’t for long. Oh, I am quite grateful for the quiet times like this where I can have such impish thoughts. The cruelty in me has not yet been satiated. I have a desire building inside me that I cannot explain. One that has been burning the moment that worm came crawling into my eye socket. If I am quiet enough, I can hear it in there burrowing deeper inside. But tonight, I hear something else that has my attention. A soft moaning through the thicket accompanied by rustling. It sounds more like a wounded animal, but I’ve heard people sound that like before. My feet are cautious and my pace is quick for the sake of my curiosity. As I round a tree I can see it from the corner of my eye. There is a deer on the ground. Beneath its head is a pool of blood. And hovering above it is a fang dripping vampire.

I pause, attempting to calm myself and my heart before he can hear me. But it is too late. He looks up, his red eyes narrowing as he searches for my reaction. My sight shifts to his mouth painted red with fangs unsheathed. The same fangs that were once embedded in me. I recoil in shock, gasping quietly as I am unsure of what offending him might do. His brow becomes furrowed and I can see the wrinkle on the bridge of his nose. He is disgusted with me. I have made him angry.

“Why are you here?” he calls out to me.

I cannot answer. A carnal hunger pulses in my core as I recall his need to taste blood. My skin is reminded of what it felt like to have him clutch my body, the fluid racing through me to reach his lips. I slow my breathing, he cannot know of the uninvited excitement that has introduced itself into my thoughts. I examine him, his chest heaving upward to hide his shame, his fists clenched with anticipation. The deer is barely alive, struggling to keep its eyes open. A leg stretches forward, looking for something solid to keep it steady as it crawls away. I do not care if it lives or dies. But perhaps tonight it will be lucky enough to keep the rest of its blood. I am feeling generous. I am feeling… a bit of pity. But for a different kind of beast. And that burning desire rears its beautiful head in approval toward me. I blink slowly as if the night has taken me into a haze. It almost rings true as my impulse has taken control. He looks confused standing there over his prey, looking at me with anger and a hint of fear. Truth be told, I cannot stand the sight of it. It makes him look so weak.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

The aggression did not take away its true intent. It was a demand, but I could hear it as a plea. I push myself forward and watch him rise to his feet. He brushes the back of his hand against his mouth, removing the blood that remained. How bitter it must taste to come from a being lower than himself. While people are often like cattle to creatures of the night, at least it isn’t feeding on actual mindless animals. The substance of one with intelligence that rivals his own could even be sweet. And I could only imagine I am like honey to him. He can hear my heartbeat race and I can almost see him salivate as I undo the first button on my blouse.

“What are you doing?” he reaches up to grab my hand, but I pull away.

“I can’t watch you like this.”

“Then don’t watch me.”

He spat back and I pause. He is embarrassed, to say the very least. My inner thoughts are not doing him any favors, either. I should not look at him with such disdain. And I would be lying if I said I was doing anything because I felt sorry for him. No, I had thought about the piercing of my flesh for by the sharpness of his teeth since the morning I woke from that first night. I had touched the mark on my neck as I reminisced the sensation it left. The curiosity boiled inside me each night when I watched him slink out of the camp. And the urge to feel him taking my life away grew stronger the more I resisted. It was addicting to have yourself fade away. To know the moment before your body has relinquished its ownership from your soul. I had never experienced anything like it before him. I wanted to slide into a blissful moment where nothing mattered but life... and death.

I move to the second button on my shirt.

“I don’t want your pity,” he almost snarls at me.

I like this about him. Very much.

“Consider it an offering,” I say softly.

My tone changes him, softening his gaze as his eyes flicker to the crook of my neck. The marks from the first bite are still there. The way he inhales sharply makes me believe he likes the way they look, that he would leave more if he could. Whether this is the last time or the beginning to many… I am willing.

“Why would you offer such a prize to me?”

“Because I like you better when you’re properly fed,” I say as I pull on my collar. “When was the last time you drank from something that didn’t walk on four legs?”

“It’s been a few days,” he admitted. “But I’m fine, really.”

The smirk on his face is a lie.

“I’ll have no trouble getting any… sort of…”

I take his hand and surprisingly, he does not resist. It is larger than mine, but not by much. I grasp two of his fingers and he allows me to guide them to my neck. I know he notices my pulse through his gloves, the small palpitations beating into his fingertips. I know because he swallows hard and he stares at me defiantly.

“Just take it,” I shake my head.

I let go, giving him the choice to remove his touch. He does not. His fingers linger at the base of my neck, listening to my heart beating faster with every second I can feel him there. My heart feels as if it will explode, but his hand relaxes and slides to the base where the warmth of his palm greets the nape of my neck. He grips it with ferocity and I am suddenly aware of something sinister behind his eyes. It does not scare me as I smile up at him.

“I could kill you.”

“I know.”

The silence between us lures in tension. I can sense it turning inside my stomach.

“I trust you won’t toss aside the only opportunity you’ll have to feed on decent blood when needed.”

“Decent?” he grinned as he clenches harder. “My darling, you are the definition of exquisite.”

“Then what is the problem?”

“I am not certain you know the decision you’re making.”

“Bren nha ath tel'quiet lor. Teshuel salen alusfaen.”*

His eyes widen as he hears the familiar words from my tongue. He knows elvish. But I imagine it has been a long time since he last heard it spoken fluently. I am surprised to hear how clear it sounds, myself. Though I believe I have Fian to thank for that. And I have no time to thank him. Astarion hesitates no longer and I am caught off guard by the force of his fangs. The initial penetration is more painful than the last as if he was striking with a distinct purpose. Though, his drinking has become more controlled. The pull is slower like a rising tide rather than a bursting wave. My neck does not sting from the sheer force of the blood leaving my body. And I can feel his tongue. It traces the side of my neck between swallows. I clutch his chest, but the leather prevents me from clinging too much. I can already sense my conscious slipping, my vision blurring as I can only make out the ends of his curls. His other arm wraps around me and he leans me back. My blood begins flowing smoothly up my body. And it becomes more comfortable to lose control. I reach up, folding my arms around his neck, cradling him as he takes slow… long drinks…

Everything grows colder, but I ignore it until I can feel it in my fingertips. He notices the change as well as his lips come free of my skin. It is not my voice that brings him to a stop but the loosening grasp of my number fingertips. My knees shake beneath me as my body searches for strength. As he lifts me, my hands clutch the back of his shoulders. His face is close. So close. His eyes are hooded, looking over my profile. They stop at my lips where he looks for what seems like several minutes and I can hear my muffled breaths. He tilts my chin upward, now looking to my neck and the trickling stream of blood running down to my chest. Not a drop goes to waste as his tongue returns to lick from my collar bone to the freshly made wounds. A sigh escapes as I close my eyes. For a moment, I feel his lips again. But he is not drinking. He is just… tasting. They are gentle, sucking on what remains. The second time they make contact, they are softer. This is not a way a beast eats his prey. This is how a hunter gives thanks. And I receive it all down my neck as he peppers my skin with small caresses. I want to enjoy it. I want to urge him to continue. I want to tangle my hands into his curls. I want to feel lost in him further than I already am. But the blackness surrounds me. And I give one final squeeze as everything goes dark.

When I wake, I can hear the faint sound of birds in the trees. I blink slowly, looking as the sky becomes a bit brighter than it was before. I can smell the dew on the grass next to me. And I realize I am still in the wood. I push myself up, ready to sprint back to camp. But I am stopped by two red eyes as Astarion is propped on his elbows at my right.

“Good morning,” he says flatly.

“Morning,” I breathe, looking up to the still darkened sky.

“I’m glad you’re awake, though you look a bit pale,” he leans in to examine me. “Tch. I don’t think this will scar like the last one.”

My head jerks downward as I watch his lip uncurl. The assumptions I had made before were correct; he wants to mark me as his own. I look away quickly under his observing stare. I am not uncomfortable. I am… vulnerable. “Last night was a lovely surprise,” he goes on.

“I wanted to help,” I shoot a glance toward him.

“And you did,” the grin blossoms into a smile as if he is keeping a secret that I only knew a small portion of. “The offering, as you called it, was a treat. But the way you spoke… well,” a heavy breath came through his nose like a machine relieving pressure, “that was a pleasure.”

I open my mouth to speak. But nothing comes out. A flush of heat spreads across my face as I quickly turn away. I reach to close my blouse, but my buttons are already done. I touch the side of my neck and find no moisture. No dried blood. No cover. It is but smooth and clean skin.

“Did you-”

“It felt indecent to leave you exposed,” he rises to his feet.

The impression he leaves is that he had not been by my side the entire night. I fear he had left to find another feast once he had finished with me as there is more blood on the ground just a few feet away. And he looks… rejuvenated, just as before. There is a glow in his eyes and somewhat of a genuine smile that showed happiness. Looking down at me, he holds out a hand. I take it, though rather begrudgingly. I am guided upright but my legs are still weak. The blood rushes as I stand and the throbbing begins.

“We best get back before the others wake,” he suggests.

“Very well,” I nod.

“If they are awake, I am leaving the explanation to you.”

My eyes narrow at him in annoyance.

“I mean, I could think of many ways we were together alone for an entire night. But I will refrain from giving any sort of excuse unless approved by you, my dear.”

The pur in his voice brings me the same sensation as his tongue against my skin. I shutter and attempt to shake my head free of his nonsense. Though, he has a point. It was a valid excuse.

“Let’s just make our way there and I will think of something. If they are awake…”

“I will be right behind you,” he slightly bows. “I do want to make sure my investment is capable of making it back.”

Ending Notes: *This is mine to make. Take my blood. -There is literally nothing on elvish in the Forgotten Realms and yeah I'm angry about. This was the best I could do. Don't yell at me.

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #vampire bites #angst #denial of feelings #astarion x mc #astarion x ferelith #mc: ferelith #ferelith moonshade #ferelith writing tag

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theelvenhaven · 5 years ago

Note

The order of which the Gondolin and Feanorian elves would allow/enjoy make up being put on them. Pleeeeaaase!!!!

Of course I can!!! ☺️ Elves usually aren’t very big on make up as far as we know BUT if the circumstances were right or if it was widely available like it for us I’m sure they’d indulge! Let it be noted that this whole answer took on a life of its own lol

Fëanorians

Fëanor - Fëanor, being who he is, is extremely confident in his appearance and his beauty and feels that it needs no enhancing what so ever. I think he would’ve absolutely experimented with it first though before deciding he didn’t need to wear it. Content with you applying a couple of different things, like eyeliner and mascara and even some highlighter. He understands the appeal but again he is confident he doesn’t need it. In turn Fëanor would absolutely apply make up to you instead, expect for subtle feature enhancing application until it comes to lipstick. Expect bold and rich colors as well as shiny and glossy gloss, he loves to smear your lipstick at the end of the day with a heated and passionate kiss.

Maedhros - Maedhros especially pre Angband wouldn’t bother with any, if you wore any of course he wouldn’t say anything. In fact he’d like the way mascara makes your lashes longer and giving the illusion your eyes are bigger. Post Angband that would change specifically in the name of concealer and foundation. Wanting to hide any scars that he could, he wouldn’t allow for anyone but himself to apply it. And he’d have no interest in anything else but concealer in foundation when the times could allow for it in the midst of his oath and war.

Maglor - Pre flight, Maglor would love highlighter and possibly even mascara! He’s a preformer, so anything that would enhance his beauty subtly would be accepted. Though he’d be averse to lipsticks and eyeliner and bright blushes. Concealer and foundation wouldn’t be necessary considering his skin is flawless. He loved it when you’d put highlighter on him and how gentle you worked with him. Post flight he wouldn’t worry about it, there’s too much happening and not enough time to indulge in such luxuries.

Celegorm - Celegorm’s version of make up would be extremely different as opposed to more classic wear and use. I think for him it would be more like face paint for the sake of hunting and blending in more effectively with the terrain. He’s completely opposed to wearing any make up other than that, and will allow you to apply his face paint. You wearing make up on the other hand is completely okay and encouraged, especially encouraging you to wear bright red lipstick.

Caranthir - Caranthir I feel like would possibly like eyeliner, not anything heavy of course. Just a subtle line around his lash lines, and he’s an expert at keeping it from running and smudging. Caranthir isn’t big on letting you apply it onto him considering it’s his eyes and is mildly fearful you’ll stab him on accident. He hates concealers and foundations and especially blushes. If you’re in a relationship and wear blush he’d find it somewhat endearing that you’d want your face to look similar to his. But if you’re big on wearing foundation and concealer anticipate him to be cold about you wearing it. Especially if you are constantly telling him how much you love his rosy face as is, he finds it completely and totally hypocritical that you tell him not to alter his complexion while you do it in turn.

Curufin - Curufin, like Caranthir, would like wearing eyeliner! Rather than wearing around his whole eye like Cara would, he’d wear it just on his bottom lashline. He’d not be up for you putting it on him at all, not so much because you might stab him, it’s just because he’s stubborn. I feel like Curufin would also get creative with his liner, wanting to possibly make his appearance look more regal and intimidating. Like Celegorm and Caranthir, he’d be opposed to anything else. As opposed to you putting any make up on him, Curufin I think would enjoy dolling you up instead.

Amrod & Amras - Amrod and Amras are still considerably much younger than their brothers and I think they would be experimental in what make up they’d wear. Even allowing you to experiment on their faces, and taking your suggestions to heart. They’d also certainly follow Celegroms lead on the face paint, considering they are hunters as well. Some days they might be more partial to eyeliner, another day blush or highlighter, or just mascara.

Celebrimbor - I think he’d take after his grandfather on this one, while he sees the appeal to wearing make up he just isn’t big on it. He appreciates the art to it and how beautiful it is, but it’s just not for him. He spends too much time in the forges anyways, sweating it all off to worry about keeping it on. He does like when you wear minimal make up as well, preferring a more natural look. Though even if you prefer a less natural look, Celebrimbor will think you are gorgeous either way. He loves you regardless of what you wear and what you do.

Gondolin

Turgon - I feel like Turgon would have mixed feelings about make up, he’d appreciate what it can do but he’d be a sucker for staying more natural. In the privacy of your chambers when it is just you two, he’d allow for subtle looks to be applied. No eyeliner or lipsticks though, and he wouldn’t wear it outside of your chambers. I think he’d have an affinity for the highlighter and heavily consider wearing it to court or doing his daily duties, but would be a little nervous about doing so. Keeping him to stay natural.

Glorfindel - He loves highlighter and blushes and maybe even some lip balm. Nothing too over the top of course, being an elf again that natural look is going to take priority. But he loves the extra sparkle it adds to his natural glow already, and he is absolutely content and relaxed to you applying the make up to him. He also loves to see you wearing make up as well, again more partial to natural looks. But he is content if you wear a little more heavier highlighter than he does.

Salgant - I don’t think Salgant would be partial to any make up at all, not wanting to stray at all from his natural look. Unlike Turgon, he would be completely adverse to you applying anything on him at all, even just to experiment and for fun. I also think Salgant would be adverse to you wearing any make up as well, wanting you to be completely natural.

Rog - Rog is very go with the flow and extremely laid back, but when it comes to make up it’s not something he will wear especially in public. It doesn’t help that he does spend copious amounts of time sweaty in the forges, and all of your hard work would wash away from the sweat. On nights when you both are goofing around, and if you ask Rog will let you apply make up to him. Even if you make it utterly ridiculous he will only laugh, but expect for the same to happen to you. The more outrageous you make him look, he will be sure to do the same to you in turn.

Ecthelion - He’s not very big on make up, preferring none at all for himself. Ecthelion feels that he doesn’t need to wear anything to enhance his features. Feeling that his features are beautiful enough, and he is adverse to experimentation to it because he knows he doesn’t need it. As for you, even if Ecthelion prefers no make up, he isn’t going to go out of his way to tell you that how he feels. If you like wearing make up and the extra confidence it gives you, he is content with that.

Penlod - Penlod feels no particular way about make up at all, I think he’d try and experiment with a little bit of everything. From more subtle looks, to a little more bold (nothing ever over the top.). He’d happily let you apply anything that you wanted to his face, wanting to see what all the looks you could come up with. Depending on how bold you go he’d wear it for the day, and absolutely would he experiment make up looks on you constantly if you allow for it.

Maeglin - Expect absolutely no room for experimentation or application on Maeglin by your own two hands for a considerable amount of time. Considering that require a great deal of trust and comfort that he would have to share with you before even letting you touch his face like that. Maeglin would probably be more partial to eyeliner and concealer. He’d like how black liner could make his eyes pop and be even brighter than they already are, probably wearing a thicker line as opposed to a thin one. He’d certainly use the concealer to hide the purple bags under his eyes from all of his lack of sleep. Maeglin would admire and enjoy when you wear make up, liking the way it makes your eyes look brighter, and the way your skin would sparkle and the way your lips would be tinted.

Galdor - Galdor prefers the simplicity of lip balm and nothing else, in fact he produces it himself! He’s not big on anything other than that for himself, being so laid back he doesn’t mind what else you like to wear. Other than that he won’t really allow you to apply much of anything to his face, save the lipbalm. He’s a simple ellon with simple tastes!

Duílin - Duilin I think would be like Celegorm and Ambarussa in the name of face paint for hunting before Gondolin was completed. I’m sure he loved the thrill of the hunt and all that entailed with it. As for make up outside of his face paint, he prefers nothing. He does however have a preference for when you wear mascara and blush, he loves the rosy color added to your face. Thinking you’re even more beautiful with it on.

Egalmoth - Egalmoth loves highlighter, and light tinted lip balm for himself. He loves the sparkle in highlighter and likes to look even more radiant especially when he is decked out in all of his jewelry. Egalmoth prefers pale pink lip balms to add a little more color to his face, and he prefers applying it himself. Though he will relinquish his control to let you do it if you asked. In turn Egalmoth also loves to apply make up to you as well. Adding extra highlighter and bolder colors of lip balm or lipstick to your face.

* * *

tags:

@lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandom-hoe101 @icarus-fell-in-spring

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ptersparkers · 5 years ago

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angel (chilling adventures of sabrina)

summary: as the only pure mortal in the fright club, there seems to be an influx of interesting things happening in greendale that you are unaware of. a certain prince of hell happens to find that interesting.

warnings: typos, probably.

a/n: ummm maybe i binge watched caos this past week and maybe i’ve fallen in love. i’ll let you figure that out. also this is my first time writing for caos (and not marvel, lol) so let me know what you think!!’ pls give feedback thank u.

add yourself to my tasglist!

ps: this gif is mine so if you use it, please credit!

When all was said and done, Sabrina and Caliban had come to amicable terms regarding the shared responsibility of ruling Hell.

It didn’t take much convincing for Caliban to relinquish his prior ambition after learning his rule would end within a day, as the Pagans would have defeated him and taken Earth for themselves. Sabrina’s ability to show him the time loop she was once trapped in gave him a reason to quit the fighting and rule Hell on an equal scale, no questions asked.

Plus, he started to like the bleach blonde witch.

You, on the other hand, felt like you had missed out on the most important plot piece of the greatest film of all time.

While Harvey, Theo, and Roz had known about Sabrina’s secret since her sixteenth birthday, you were left in the dust about the shenanigans that went on around Greendale. You were truly the only mortal with no magic or witch ties, but the other four couldn’t say the same. Sabrina was a witch, Theo’s ancestor Dorothea often visited him in time of need, Harvey’s family had a history of witch hunting (which he does not partake), and Roz’s ability to foreshadow the future with a simple touch proved to be more useful than she had originally thought.

You were a mortal. A regular high school student whose biggest problems were studying for four AP classes every day while balancing cheerleading and other extracurriculars.

It wasn’t until recently that the strangeness came to light. What the Fright Club had failed to mention was that Sabrina had continuously hexed you in order to keep you out of harm’s way by leaving a small bag filled with her Aunt Hilda’s concoctions in your bedroom. It worked its magic when you slept, an invisible blanket covering your eyes that made their strange disappearances seem normal.

But it seems like that hex was fading. Sabrina neglected to change it out every other week due to being preoccupied by Caliban’s yearning, the Dark Lord’s agenda, and Lilith’s drama regarding Hell. Now you sat with wonder and couldn’t help but feel left out of a great adventure that your friends embarked on.

A month had passed since Sabrina and Caliban had made amends. You grew to understand the nature of it and the four filled you in on all you had missed with a guilt hanging over their heads. It was hard to hear and understand, but ultimately you couldn’t hate your best friends for wanting to keep you safe.

You knew not to question Sabrina’s whereabouts if you weren’t able to find her because she was most likely taking care of business down below. You still had yet to meet Caliban and the only information you gathered from him was what the gang caught you up on and Sabrina’s grievances whenever she felt annoyed by him.

“You know, this is all a weird concept,” you said. “I mean, I guess I always had my faith and doubt kept me guessing about what’s really out there, and it’s really out there,” you said, stealing a fry from Theo’s plate. The five of you sat in Dr. Cerberus’s diner and decided you weren’t going to do anything that wasn’t normal for teenagers.

“It still creeps me out,” Harvey admitted. “Hell was worse than I could’ve imagined.”

“Caliban’s got things under control and Lilith’s doing just fine being an advisor,” Sabrina said. “I don’t think she’s mad about the ruling situation anymore. Lucifer’s still doing his bidding but I think they’ve reconnected.”

“That’s...good?”

Sabrina chuckled. “Trust me, it’ll take some getting used to.”

“That is an absolute understatement.”

The door to the diner chimed while you fished inside of your purse for a quarter.

“I’m gonna go pick out a song, any requests?”

“You’re the music genius,” said Roz. You smiled and walked towards the front of the diner.

As you approached the machine and put the quarter inside of the slot, a tall man with sand colored hair loomed over you and watched.

“Can I help you?” you asked.

“Not really. Just observing.” You quirked an eyebrow, not recognizing his face despite knowing everyone in the small town.

“You’re not from here, are you?” you asked.

He chuckled. “Is it that obvious?”

“Greendale’s a pretty small town. It’s easy to spot someone who’s not a local,” you replied.

“Well in that case, I’m not from around these parts. Far from, actually.” He looked at your hand and then the juke box. “What song are you choosing?”

You pried your gaze away from him to look back at the machine and put the coin in the slot, choosing “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” before looking back at him.

“Satisfied?”

The handsome stranger looked at you and didn’t try to hide the face that he was checking you out by letting his eyes look at your body up and down. Not that you minded.

“Very,” he said with a sail try voice before walking around the corner. “The name’s Caliban.”

“Y/N,” you replied. You raised your eyebrow before walking back to the other four and sat down in your previous seat only for the handsome stranger to approach the table.

“Caliban,” Sabrina greeted. “What a lovely surprise.”

“Nice choice,” Roz commented, hearing the song play throughout the diner.

“That’s Caliban, as in the Caliban?” you asked.

“It’s good to know you lot have been talking about me,” he said, crossing his hands over his chest. “I decided to take a break from, you know, and come see what you love so much about Greendale.”

“She knows about Hell,” said Sabrina.

“Funny how I’ve never seen her there, or anywhere with you four, as a matter of fact,” Caliban replied.

“It’s a long story,” you said, sipping on your chocolate milkshake. “Not an important one, though.”

“Contrary,” he began. “You’re the first purely true mortal I’ve met in Hell or otherwise with no ancestral ties to witches or greater magic. That’s pretty important to me.” You blushed, not knowing what to say or do next.

“Is there a reason you’re here?” Harvey asked with a slight attitude. Caliban shifted his focus from you to him, which made your body relax a little bit.

“I didn’t come here for business or to whisk Sabrina away, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m just here to see what makes Greendale so special, though I think I’m starting to see why.” Caliban spared no expense and was not shy about looking in your direction as he spoke his last statement.

“Don’t even think about it,” Sabrina said sternly. “You are not going to get any ideas, are you?”

Caliban chuckled and put his hands up in defense. “Whatever you say, Sabrina.” He began to walk away but not before turning around and winking at you. “See you around.”

Caliban walked out the door and you didn’t bother asking where he was going next.

“Dear Satan, he’s so annoying,” Sabrina said, exasperated. “It’s like he’s made it his personal mission to make my life, well, a living Hell for lack of a better term.”

“At least he’s not hellbent on defeating you anymore,” Theo reasoned. “I think he’s trying to get to know you a little bit better.”

“And he’s doing it by flirting with my best friend?” Sabrina asked. She put her head on your shoulder and and ate a fry from her plate. “You know I love you, right?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m not saying you need to stay away from Caliban, but you need to be careful around him. At least until we’ve worked together long enough for me to trust him completely.”

“Loud and clear, Brina,” you said. “I still can’t really wrap my head around this whole thing. I can’t watch horror films about Hell and witches the same ever again.”

The Fright Club laughed.

“It’ll take some getting used to,” Harvey said. “I mean, I was pretty apprehensive at first. Remember when Brina and I broke up and I spent every day at your place after school?” You nodded. “That’s when she told me she was a witch. It was kind of hard to wrap my head around until everything with the Pagans and angels happened.” You nodded, soaking in his words. “Anyway, there’s nothing wrong with feeling like you don’t understand. I don’t even understand most of it, if I’m being completely honest.”

“In think that’s enough food for me,” said Roz who pushed her plate to the middle. “Seeing Hell with my own eyes really suppressed my appetite.”

”Oh, shoot,” you said, looking at the clock mounted on the wall. “I have to head home and help my mom. I promised her I’d help clean the kitchen and I’ve got to be home in ten minutes. Can I pay you guys back?”

“Don’t worry about it. See you tomorrow?” said Theo.

“Count on it!”

***

You saw Caliban not long after your first encounter with him. The idea of him being the ruler of Hell (alongside Sabrina) was still a hard concept to understand and you weren’t quite sure if you were supposed to bow in his presence or not.

“Unnecessary,” he said when you asked. Caliban sat across from you at the local coffee shop, offering to walk you when you had caught his eye. You harbored a hot latte and he held a blueberry scone in his hand. “I think you mortals like that glory.”

You shrugged. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Hell doesn’t have formalities when it comes to celebration other than referring to each other by one’s title,” he explained. “It’s just easier that way.”

“You make it seem like Hell’s a relaxed place to be.”

He pinched a piece of his scone off at put it in his mouth, smirking at your statement.

“Oh, far from it. As righteous as demons are, we’re not that shallow.”

“It’s kind of hard to believe you’re made out of clay,” you said, taking a sip of your latte.

“Why do you say that?”

“I dunno,” you said. You reached over the table to poke his bicep. “You seem so real. So human.”

Normally, Caliban would’ve been offended by such a comparison. But he smiled.

“I suppose. I don’t question my creation. I accept it and try to live as adventurously as I can.”

“I hope to,” you said. “Getting out of Greendale, I mean. It’s my biggest dream.”

“You’d want to leave this town?” he asked.

“Well, yeah,” you replied. “I have nothing going for me here. I’m powerless and there’s no reason for me to stay where I’m not needed.”

To his surprise, Caliban felt his heart jolt at your comment. He was wordless for a moment.

“Where will you go?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “Maybe somewhere on the west coast. Maybe I’ll still be in New England. College is the perfect opportunity to explore the world and come back home for a few weeks at a time.”

“This is where Lucifer fell, you know,” said Caliban. “The sacred place is hidden deep in the woods where there’s a clearing of rocks and stone. That’s why this place is driven by witches of the Church of Night.”

“I still can’t believe the Devil is walking among us,” you said, shaking your head. “My mom used to force me to go to Sunday school, and I suppose I did have faith. It’s all meta now.”

“Are you still a believer?” he asked.

“I kind of have to be, considering you’re here.”

Caliban smiled.

“Do Heaven and Hell ever interact withe each other?”

“Not exactly,” he began. “We’re on civil relations but don’t want anything to do with each other. They stay up there so long as we stay down here. I’ve never encountered an angel before.”

“You haven’t?”

“They aren’t allowed to come down to Earth unless absolutely necessary,” he explained. “Not really sure why but it’s one of their more important rules.”

“I think I have a headache,” you teased. All of this knowledge about celestial beings truly made your senses adapt to your surroundings in Greendale and you were more than aware of the fact that God was real.

“I should go,” Caliban said, standing up. “I need to escort some souls back to Hell and send some up north.”

“You mean not all souls who are sold to the Devil go to Hell?”

“Sabrina and I negotiated that,” he said. “No more soul-selling. The ones that preexist will be discussed by her and I, and we decide if the punishment is worth the crime. I don’t think someone who sold their soul for a good cause needs to spend all eternity down in Hell. That’s why she comes down there all the time.”

“Huh,” you said at a loss for words.

Caliban smiled. “I’ll see you around, princess.”

***

The next time you see Caliban was with the rest of the Fright Club. He was wearing a linen button down with several buttons popped open, exposing his bare chest with black slacks and white sneakers. His hair was tousled and you swore this was the most human you had ever seen him.

“Ambrose is being a little paranoid and wants me to check out the edge of Greendale for threats,” Sabrina said. “I think he’s just worried about me co-ruling Hell while living on Earth. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“You say that like it’s just another day in Greendale,” you said.

Sabrina shrugged. “I mean, it kind of is.”

“Well, do you need us to do anything?” Roz asked.

“I want you to come with me, if that’s okay. Harvey, Theo, and Y/N, you don’t need to come. I’m sure this is Ambrose being Ambrose.”

“Are you sure, Brina?” Harvey asked.

She waved him off. “It’s fine, really. Roz and I will spend a few hours making sure things are normal and we’ll meet back at my place for dinner? Aunt Hilda’s kind of expecting us.”

“Wouldn’t miss it!” Theo said enthusiastically.

Sabrina gave the group one last smile before she took Roz’s hands and teleported out of the room, which left the four of you.

“I can give you a ride, Theo,” Harvey offered before looking at you. “And you too. I don’t mind driving to the other side of town.”

“I can take her home,” Caliban said. Harvey looked at you and Caliban spoke again, noticing his hesitation. “Part of our deal was that I made sure her friends remain unharmed. That includes Y/N.”

Harvey seemed to accepted this answer and grabbed his keys from his pocket before bidding you a goodbye. He and Theo drove off in his truck before you and Caliban left in the opposite direction.

“So, uh, do you want to come in?” you asked, awkwardly standing by the front door after he insisted on walking you in.

“I don’t mind,” he said. You fumbled with the keys before opening the door with a shaky hand and let him inside. It was the first time you were letting a boy into your home (other than Harvey and Theo, but your relationship with them was strictly platonic) and you felt a little more nervous than usual. After figuring out you had liked Caliban more than you originally expected, there was nothing you could do to stop your heart from beating just a little too fast when we he was around. Him being in your house did nothing to help the situation.

As for Caliban, his usual overwhelming desire for a carnal relationship was nowhere to be found when he stepped into your house. He looked at the white walls decorated with family photos and admired the ones with you as a child. Caliban watched as you put the house keys in a glass dish and followed you to your bedroom.

It was odd, Caliban thought, to feel nothing but tranquility. He was almost always hyperaware of his surroundings and wary of demons and souls roaming past him in Hell, but it was just the two of you. Two bodies under one roof.

“My parents won’t be home until later tonight. N-Not that we have to do anything!” you added. “I just mean they’d freak out because they haven’t met you before.”

Caliban chuckled. “I wasn’t planning on making a move, if that’s what you were wondering.”

You didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

“Your room suits you,” he said. Caliban admired the photos on your nightstand and polaroids pinned to a brown board on the wall filled with memories from your past with the Fright Club and other friends and family members. He saw a stack of books beside your bed and a fish tank sitting by the window, your closet doors closed, and decorative pieces that highlighted your personality.

“Thanks,” you said, laying down on your best. “You can sit, you know.”

Caliban took this opportunity to lay next to you. When you felt the bed dip, you averted your eyes to the ceiling.

“What are you thinking about?” Caliban asked after a long pause of silence.

“How fast life changes,” you replied. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, but with all that I know, how can I keep all of this celestial knowledge a secret from my parents? The world is always doubting Heaven and Hell but I know the truth. I don’t know if being purely mortal is helping me out in this situation either.”

“You’re an innocent,” Caliban said, turning his head to look at you. “So pure and clean. Your soul has been untouched by neither light or night and it’s probably the one thing that’s going to save you in the future.”

You turned your head to meet his gaze. “I’m still powerless.”

“Maybe in one way, but not completely. You have no witchcraft magic but you have intelligence and intuition. You know not to meddle with things that aren’t of your concern.”

You were silent.

“What else are you thinking about?”

“How much I like spending time with you,” you confessed. “But it’s hard, you know. You’ll be in Hell most of the time and you’re made of clay, for crying out loud.” Caliban chuckled. “I didn’t really think you’d be around as often as you are.”

Caliban was silent.

“What are you thinking about?”

“You,” he replied. “I’m always thinking about you. I used to think morality was a disease, but it’s not. It’s a rationale, just like any demonic presence.” Caliban moved closed to you.

“I think about what love is and how I don’t know what it really means.”

“I think love means different things to different people,” you said. “I think it’s mutual respect and loyalty. It’s knowing details about someone, big and small. It’s about being together but knowing you can be independent. Love is hard and it takes time. Love is not instant.”

“You’re pretty wise for an innocent,” he said.

You laughed. “Maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic.”

“Maybe not.”

Caliban lifted his body to hover above yours, your chests barely touching as his eyes gazed right over your lips. You dared not to move and Caliban hesitantly leaned down further so that your lips barely brushed against one another, the goosebumps on your skin taking affect. Because you weren’t pulling away, he took it as a silent signal and pressed his chaste lips against your soft ones.

There was no spark. No magic and no fireworks. There was only you and Caliban, and there was no other way you would’ve wanted your first kiss to feel like. Time slowed down as Caliban relaxed by your touch and your hands roamed his neck. The cold outdoor air was replaced by the warmth of Caliban’s body and when he pulled away, he let his thumb stroke your cheek as he cupped the side of your face.

“You are, dare I say, an angel.

“That’s a compliment, considering I know how much you despise them.”

He laughed. “Perhaps I’ll make an exception.”

Caliban leaned down once more to press a tender kiss to your forehead and you closed your eyes in bliss, happy to accept the good that came with the craziness of the last month. You looked at his structured jaw and grinned at his loving gaze, letting out a tired laugh.

“Perhaps.”

#caliban x reader #caos caliban #caliban #caos caliban x reader #chilling adventures of sabrina #caos x reader #sabrina spellman #my writing #angel

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 5 years ago

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Roguish Women Part 44

Summary: Kate is an American who fled to Paris to escape her past life. Now she's dancing and playing the part of a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. There she meets Tommy Shelby who thinks she can be useful in expanding his empire. But has he been blinded?

Part 44: Kate feels uneasy about the match but Tommy does his best to put her worries to rest. Even though it’s valid worries.

“Well, you can put your trust into Alfie,” Kate said as she stepped off the boat.

Tommy took her hand to help her down. “I think you put too much trust into him. But I’m glad you think he’ll see us through this.”

“When Luca showed up, he hid me.”

Tommy’s face changed noticeably. He thought for certain that he had timed everything correctly. That his aunt had nothing to worry about because Kate would come back completely unharmed and not even close to where Luca was. Well, she looked unharmed but it drove a knife into Tommy’s stomach knowing she was that close to their enemy.

Kate noticed his look. “It’s okay.” She said gently. “I know you didn’t plan this and we should just be grateful that nothing happened. Alfie stepped up and made sure I was safe. That’s why I’m saying you can trust him.” She touched his cheek and gave him a small smile. “It was scary but all in all I think it was worth it.”

He let out a deep sigh. “You’re strangely calm about this.” He replied with a grimace.

“Because you and Michael both had run-ins with Luca. I wasn’t even in the same room as him. So, I think in the grand scheme of things, I was safer.” She took his hand. “Now, c’mon, I’m hungry.”

~~~~~~~~~

Tommy brought her home and sat down at the table while she had free rein of the kitchen. He pulled out a cigarette to light. “Why don’t you have one of the girls come in and make you something?” He offered.

“I’ve been in a boat for days; I’d rather be on my feet.” She replied, scouring the pantry. “I’m not giant yet, although Alfie seemed to be able to tell I was pregnant even if I’m not showing.”

It was as if she had come back to tell him everything he didn’t want to hear. “For fuck’s sake. How did he know?”

“Relax. I told you, we can trust him.”

He just shook his head and took a few drags from his cigarette to calm his nerves. His eyes were staring at the wall, slipping off into a daze as he was lost in his own thoughts.

Kate came over and set down her lunch, interrupting him. “I was thinking about the things we could do once this is all over. I think it would be a good idea for you to take a little break.”

“I’ll take a break when the twins arrive.” He reminded her. “I have plans to get in the works.”

She looked disgruntled. “Tom, can we agree that these long-winded plans get you into tricky situations like the one we’re in now?”

He nodded absent-mindedly. Of course, how could he deny that? But what else could he do? “Things will get better.”

It sounded like something he had told her before. Maybe after Black Star Day or after the Derby. She wanted to trust him, wanted to trust his judgment, but she had a hard time trusting the rest of the world. It was common knowledge that her fiancée thought that the world would bend to his will if he was smart enough and had a good enough strategy. Yet no matter how many times Kate reminded him, he seemed to forget the world was untamable. He was aware it was unforgiving, but he’d survived death so many times. Maybe he thought death wouldn’t come to him unless he accepted it.

“What are you planning?” She asked cautiously.

“There are parliament elections…”

“Wait, wait, wait.” She stopped him before he could go on. “Tommy, be reasonable.”

“I am.” He tapped some ash off his cigarette.

Kate was suddenly not very hungry. She took a deep breath. “I recognize that you are smart enough and capable to hold a government position. Please understand that I don’t doubt you.”

He took her hand and looked into her eyes to let her know he was listening.

She felt a bit more comforted as she moved closer to him. There was never a time in their relationship that she felt unable to voice her opinions. Even in the beginning when he wasn’t keen on listening to her, she made sure he still heard her.

“I’m worried that you might be taking on too much. I’m worried you think you need to hold the world on your shoulders when you don’t. I know you want to bring change; you want to make the world a better place for people because you don’t want them to go through what you have.”

He lowered his eyes a bit. It was never easy when she dug right into the center of who he was. No one could quite drill past his armor like she could. Talking to her was like looking into a mirror and seeing the man he wished he was. The young bright-eyed boy who hoped for so much more.

“But you deserve peace and happiness, Thomas Shelby. You can’t sacrifice every part of you.” She pressed her lips to his knuckles.

“What do you suggest I do?” He asked quietly.

“Give yourself some time. We’ll be waiting for the twins to arrive anyway; I don’t think there’s much to do. Won’t be much I’ll be able to do.” She smiled slightly. “Allow Polly and Michael and the rest to run operations. You don’t have to give up any control but just trust that they know what’s right and what you need them to do.”

He sighed. It was difficult to even imagine giving up so much control. But if he had his eyes set on Parliament, he wouldn’t have the time to run everything. Realistically he would have to relinquish some control.

Kate saw the doubt in his face. “If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me. Do it for the babies.” She urged softly. “Allow me to make up for the time I’ve lost with you.”

Tommy nodded. “Okay.” He agreed. “Okay.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“What’s the long face for?” Polly asked.

Kate shrugged. “I’m not upset, just thinking.” They were sitting in the tailor’s shop the day before the big boxing match. She found that the dress she had planned to wear wasn’t going to fit. Even though it was slight, her baby bump was starting to show and starting to make certain dresses difficult to wear. So, Polly brought her to get the dress taken out a bit instead of having to find another one to wear.

“About what?” Polly wondered.

“I just don’t feel right about the match.” She admitted. “Something’s just…it just feels off.”

“Everything feels that way these days.” Tommy’s aunt sighed. “I suppose it’s the atmosphere of Small Heath. I almost forgot it.”

“Yeah.” Kate nodded. “I suppose you’re right. We were used to it once upon a time. But now that we’ve tasted life outside of it, it’s hard to be stuck in again.”

“It’ll all be over soon,” Polly assured her. “Just be patient. Think about the good times to come.”

The seamstress, Sophia, came out with the dress. “Here you are, that should do it. Do you want to try it on, Miss Lynch?”

Polly stood up from the sofa in the front of the store. “We’re in a bit of a hurry so she’ll have to try it on at home. I’m sure it fits perfectly now. Such a shame the woman who made it in London took the wrong measurements.”

Kate glanced at both women before coming to her senses. No doubt Polly had been enlisted by Tommy to make sure no one else caught onto the pregnancy. It was frustrating enough that he had accidentally told Michael and Alfie just took a wild guess. But Tommy was capping the list off at five. No one else would know.

“Oh, yes.” Kate stood as Sophia began to wrap up the dress to put in a bag. “I’m sure it’s all set. Thank you so much.”

The seamstress didn’t appear to be used to people just walking out without making sure it fit. “Oh, not a problem. I hope you all have fun at the boxing match. My husband’s going.” She smiled idly as she wrote up the receipt. “I told him to not bet too much money but I think he thinks he’s going to make a fortune off of Alfie Solomon’s boy.” She laughed softly.

Kate stood near the door. She wondered how nice it must be to be so oblivious to everything. To think the match was nothing more than just some good sport. Kate didn’t have the luxury to be that naïve.

~~~~~~~~~

The night of the match, Tommy came into the bedroom where Kate was getting dressed. He smiled when he saw her sitting on the bed pulling up her stockings. “I wasn’t sure where you ladies got the idea that this was something you all needed to dress up for.” He teased. Hopefully, a little lighthearted banter would put her at ease. Tommy only wished he could calm himself down.

Kate glanced up at him and stuck her tongue out. “We’ve all been stuck in Small Heath for weeks. None of us have had a chance to dress up. I think you should’ve expected us to take the first opportunity we have.” She finished with her stockings and stood up. “Now can you fasten the last few buttons?”

Tommy came up behind her and brushed her blonde curls away from her neck. “I’ve always loved red on you.” He said gently.

“I wore red to the derby.”

He frowned. “No, you didn’t. You wore black to Epsom.”

“Not Epsom.” She shook her head. “I meant when I met Kimber.”

Another one of Tommy’s ghosts, long-buried, long dead. He sighed. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“You remember what I wore to Epsom?” She went to turn around but Tommy stopped her. He hadn’t even started on the first button of her dress.

“Could probably remember a lot of things you’ve worn.” He admitted and slowly did up the buttons of her dress. “You wore purple when you first said you loved me. You wore blue when you showed up at John’s wedding. You wore blue to my wedding too. You wore green the last time I saw you before you left for Boston. And you were wearing red when I came to get you. You wore purple when I proposed in Scarborough.”

Kate felt tears welling up in her eyes. She had never known he paid so much attention to her at such an early stage of their relationship. “What about at the Moulin Rouge?” She asked, her voice shaking with emotion. “What was I wearing when we first met?” Not even she could really remember. She recalled Tommy looking very well dressed but couldn’t quite recall what she had on.

“Black but then you changed into a green dress. Then you wore purple the next day.”

She turned around. “I can’t believe you remember all of that.” She said touching his cheek.

His thumb came to swipe away the tear that slipped down her cheek. “When you were gone and I was in hospital, my worst fear was never seeing you again. My memory was already fucked after the surgery. So, I put all my effort into trying to hold onto the memories I had of you. It didn’t matter if I forgot everything else. As long as I remembered how you looked and the way I felt around you, then I’d be okay.”

Kate smiled through her tears. “Tom…”

“You don’t have to cry, love.” He hushed softly and kissed the corner of her lips.

Her laugh was interrupted by a hiccup. “I know. It’s probably the pregnancy. Ada said I would get weepy for no reason sometimes. It doesn’t help that you’re being this way.”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Can’t help it.”

“So, I can guess that because you’re in a good mood, tonight is going to go well?” She asked hopefully.

He nodded. “It will, you’ll be perfectly safe.” He sealed the promise with a deep kiss, pressing his hand into the small of her back.

There was a knock downstairs and Arthur called out to his brother. “C’mon, Tom!”

Kate reluctantly pulled away. “I’ll see you later?”

“Pol, Lizzie, and Ada will come to pick you up. You’ll all be escorted there, so there’s no need to worry about anything.” He said softly.

“Okay.” She felt a little more relieved and less anxious about the event as he kissed her lips a couple more times before he unraveled himself from her.

“And tell the girls to watch how much they drink.” He warned before leaving the bedroom.

Kate smiled. “No promises.” Perhaps this would finally just be a night they could all enjoy themselves. But she was forgetting the first rule she had always followed in life. Trust your instinct.

~~~~~~~~

There wasn’t much Kate could do about Ada bringing along a giant bottle of gin. Besides, she wasn’t going to stop her future sister-in-law from having any fun. That would just be unfair.

“I’m glad the dress worked out.” Polly smiled as Kate got into the car with them. “Did Tommy get to see it beforehand or did he go early?”

“He saw it.” Kate smiled. She wanted to tell them all about what he said but decided to keep it to herself. She wanted it to be a special moment kept between the two of them.

“Guess who I heard showed up,” Ada said. “A few women from the Forty Elephants.”

“Really?” Kate lit up. What was once a night she had been dreading was starting to become more like a party. She had a sneaking suspicion that Tommy was in on it too. Maybe he was hoping to give her a nice fun evening. Or maybe, he was trying to distract her. “Oh, I can’t wait for you to meet them. They’re a treat.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alice Diamond apparently got the news that all the women were dressing up for the affair. Or there just wasn’t a time or a place where she wasn’t dressed up. She and Maggie Hill turned heads as they entered the venue. The mysterious women were quite a sight to be seen in Small Heath. And they were joined by Ruby and Lillian who walked arm in arm, daring anyone to make a comment about how close they were. There was another woman along with them that Kate didn’t recognize when they approached the Peaky ladies.

“Oh, Kate.” Alice embraced her and kissed her cheeks. “We heard all the awful news. That bastard-”

“It’s okay,” Kate assured her gently. “I just hope Sabini hasn’t been giving you girls any trouble. I told Alfie to keep an extra eye out for us.”

The glamorous woman rolled her eyes. “That moron doesn’t know when to quit. Once those Americans are gone, he’s going to have a big problem on his hands. But enough work talk. I want to see how Birmingham puts on a show.”

Kate laughed. “Let me introduce you. This is Polly, Tommy’s aunt. Lizzie Stark, his assistant, and Ada Thorne, his sister.”

“Alice Diamond.” She greeted them. “My associates, Maggie and Ruby. And this is Lillian and her sister Mabel. Kate, I don’t think you’ve met her.”

“No, I haven’t.” The woman looked to be older than Lillian by a couple of years. She had a similar soft charm to her just like her sister. But she appeared more timid than any of the Forty Elephants leading Kate to believe that she may not be involved with the organization.

She wore a more modest dress than the others, and her hair wasn’t bobbed like theirs were either. That’s when Kate noticed a simple gold necklace resting on her collarbone, the charm was a Star of David.

Kate could remember Lillian mentioning how her family was fairly conservative and approved of neither her lifestyle nor her relationship with Ruby. She wondered if maybe they were a part of the Orthodox community in Camden Town.

“Mabel, this is Kate Lynch. She’s the one Alfie always talks about, she’s engaged to Tommy Shelby.” Alice explained.

“Oh, of course.” Mabel nodded. “It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you.”

“She was jealous until she knew you were engaged. Alfie always raved about you and Mabel fancies him.” Lillian smirked.

“No, I don’t!” The woman’s face went completely red.

It was like a lightbulb went off in Kate’s head. Oh, she’d prove Tommy wrong alright. She was already scheming a plan to make sure Mabel would by Alfie’s plus one to their wedding.

She smiled at her and touched her shoulder. “Come and sit with me so we can get to know each other.” Kate encouraged as they all began to walk to the front row of seats by the boxing ring. “You know I think Alfie might be here tonight.” She hinted just to gauge Mabel’s reaction.

It was clear as day as the pretty woman perked up and looked a little nervous. “Really? I mean…I know Goliath is fighting but I didn’t know-”

“Kate?” There was a soft hand on her shoulder.

She turned to smile at Tommy who was waiting for her. “Hi.”

“Ladies, you all look very nice. I’m glad you could make it.” Tommy nodded to Alice.

“Of course, Mr. Shelby. Wouldn’t miss it for the world. It’s always fun to watch Goliath beat someone to the brink of death. I hope your boy made a will.” Alice teased with a cocky grin.

“Looks can be deceiving, Miss Diamond,” Tommy replied then bent down to whisper in Kate’s ear. “Alfie wants to talk to you.”

“Oh, okay.” Kate stood up to follow him to the back area of the venue. The further away she got from the excited buzz of the crowd, the more dread sank into her stomach. Instinct was not something to be ignored. And there were alarm bells ringing in her ears.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe @evelynshelby

Tag list: @radical-gecko @actorinfluence @meltingicequeen @merlettina

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fakexface · 6 years ago

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Papa II Sincanons

━━━━━━━━━━━━ 𝐓𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤. ━━━━━━━━━━━━ •Papa Emeritus II is a man of many tastes. He's indulged in the sins of flesh for well over two hundred years; he knows what he likes and what he doesn't. He's dabbled a little bit in almost everything.

•He is a Dom, undeniably. He doesn't enjoy not being in control, and thus, refuses to relinquish that power. He isn't necessarily a /hard/ Dom, but he isn't 100% a soft Dom, either. -He doesn't mind being called 'Daddy', though 'Papa' is used far more often. It gives him that nice little ego boost to hear his partner calling out Papa in the heat of the moment.

-If his partner happens to know his true name, he'd prefer for them to n o t call him by it. The only person who does is Papa Nihil and his brothers. If his partner happens to slip up in the middle of him fucking them into the mattress, he won't hesitate to grip their chin and ask them just who they were calling for. He'll slow to a stop and just w a i t until they're begging, and then- t h e n he will make them scream his proper title.

•He has rules, and he tends to make them very clear to new partners. His regular partners know them. One-night stands, however, do not learn these rules. -He is their Dom; he will take care of them, and they will be safe beneath him. -They may leave at any time- this is by no means a romantic relationship. He has many partners, and he intends to keep it that way. -He will never harm them unless they consent to it, and even then, he will obey their hard limits. Soft limits will be pushed, but not broken. -ALWAYS be honest. He will be honest with his partner- what he likes, what he doesn't like. He wants his partner to be honest- what they like, what they didn't like. He wants them to be honest- not just in the bedroom, either. If something happens, he wants them to come to him. He is Papa- he can pull strings and give out punishments as need be. -He does follow the color system: Green for good, yellow for slow down/hold on, red for STOP. If his partner can't talk, he prefers for them to use a tap system- one tap for good, two for slow down/hold on, three for stop. If need be, slap his arm. Though, he tends to pay a lot of attention to his partner, so he can usually tell when they're good versus when they aren't. -He will give gifts. He won't spoil his partner(s), but he will, on occasion, give them a lavish gift. Expensive clothing/lingerie, a new expensive piece of jewelry. He's not like his younger brother- he won't drown his partner(s) in gifts. -He prefers to know if his partner also has others on the side. He likes to keep tabs on these things, just to be s a f e.

•He has a plethora of kinks, lets be honest. And not all will be listed here, to keep if brief. -Sadism -Minor masochism -Exhibitionism -VOYEURISM -Knife play (giving, not receiving) -Breath play (giving, not receiving) -Dirty talk (both giving & receiving) -Lingerie (on his partners) -Leather -Orgasm control -Marking (biting, scratching, bruising) -Minor blood play (this purely comes from the demonic blood in him) -Rope play/Shibari

•He enjoys taking his time working his partner up. Having them sit in his lap, his hand just ghosting across their thighs, just barely touching where they crave to be touched most, working them up until they're a whimpering, whining mess. The moment they try to grind on his thigh, however, he's pulling away and clicking his tongue in disapproval. -Leather gloves slipping between their thighs and working them to the brink of completion before pulling away and ordering them to lick his gloves clean, leaving them hanging on the edge. -Not above having them kneel in front of them and pressing a foot into their crotch, working them up while he deals with paperwork. -Will order them to give him head while he works. He'll, eventually, stop working and hold their jaw, or tug on their hair, and give them praise. Will release in their mouth. They will swallow, or else receive a punishment (most likely spankings).

•Is the type of man to skullfuck his s/o IF THEY'RE 100% OKAY WITH IT. While others may enjoy the sound of a partner gagging, he doesn't. It grates on his nerves and ruins the mood. -If his partner cannot take all of him in- that's f i n e. He doesn't mind. They have hands. Make use of them. -If they can, even better! He has a sizable length, and the girth is nothing to joke about. (It's that demon blood). -He has a Prince Albert, as well as a small Jacob's Ladder (two piercings along the underside, one directly beneath the other). Yes, they hurt. Yes, they were worth it. All his partners have agreed.

•He can be very rough. This is typically reserved for his... Non-human partners. He knows exactly how thick Ghoul skin is, and what it takes to break it. -Ghouls are tougher than humans. They can withstand the scrape of his claws across their skin and the sting of his teeth. -Humans are delicate. However, this doesn't mean he won't be rough. He'll definitely leave bruises on their thighs, hips; bite marks all across their shoulders and chest and the inside of their thighs. He enjoys seeing his mark on them afterwards. -Knife play is reserved for a select few whom he knows can handle it. He will break the skin- not deep, just enough to have a few beads of blood pop up. He isn't like, say, Dewdrop, who enjoys more than just a few little drops being spilled. It takes trust, and Papa expects for his partner to know their limits when it comes to times like these. -Breath play is another one that requires the utmost level of trust. He knows how long to hold down. He enjoys seeing that slight fear cross his partner's face when he squeezes. He's always careful, and never pushes if they do not wish for this.

•As much as he loves seeing his partner ride him (especially while he's sitting in a chair), he'd much rather have them bent over his desk, or a table, or the side of the bed. A fist in their hair or two fingers in their mouth as he grinds into them from behind. -His second favorite position is mentioned above: riding. This is usually how he'll start things off- letting his partner ease onto him. Once they get a good rhythm going, then he switches things up. Don't get too cocky; he's always in control. His hips snapping up to meet his partner's thrust for thrust before he grabs their hips and holds them down as he just g r i n d s into them. Or holding their hips in place as he thrusts hard and fast.

•For partners with female genitals, he can- and WILL- make them squirt. He's v e r y well practiced with his fingers, and his tongue. Whether or not he'll wear his gloves during this depends on his mood (and if his partner wants it). -He's also too good at overstimulation- just the right amount to have another orgasm crashing over them. He wants to have them shaking, pleading by the end of it. Begging for him to stop, to keep going, to touch them.

•Aftercare is next-level. After a rough session, he will lay with his partner, holding them close and just rubbing a hand across their back or over any bruises or cuts he may have caused, letting them calm down. -His quarters have a full bathroom attached and a kitchenette, so no need to go anywhere or call anyone. He'll leave to get warm towels and come back to clean his partner up carefully, asking if anything hurts too much, if they're alright, if they need anything. He keeps fruit in his room for a reason; he'll peel an orange and grab a cold bottle of water for both of them before offering a warm bath or shower. -If they say yes, then he'll draw them a bath or turn on the shower and let the bathroom warm up before carrying them in. He will get into either if asked politely; otherwise, he'll wait. -If declined, he has no problem with laying down with his partner and just relaxing for a while. -Only the special ones get to stay the night, mind you.

#papa emeritus ii #the band ghost #ghost bc #sincanons #papa ii #these got Spicy™

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canities-saecularia · 6 years ago

Text

Sincanons

OOC; have these as an apology for not being active OOPS- ━━━━━━━━━━━━ 𝐓𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤. ━━━━━━━━━━━━ •Papa Emeritus II is a man of many tastes. He's indulged in the sins of flesh for well over two hundred years; he knows what he likes and what he doesn't. He's dabbled a little bit in almost everything.

•He is a Dom, undeniably. He doesn't enjoy not being in control, and thus, refuses to relinquish that power. He isn't necessarily a hard Dom, but he isn't 100% a soft Dom, either.

-He doesn't mind being called 'Daddy', though 'Papa' is used far more often. It gives him that nice little ego boost to hear his partner calling out Papa in the heat of the moment.

•He has rules, and he tends to make them very clear to new partners. His regular partners know them. One-night stands, however, do not learn these rules.

-He is their Dom; he will take care of them, and they will be safe beneath him.

-They may leave at any time- this is by no means a romantic relationship. He has many partners, and he intends to keep it that way.

-He will never harm them unless they consent to it, and even then, he will obey their hard limits. Soft limits will be pushed, but not broken.

-ALWAYS be honest. He will be honest with his partner- what he likes, what he doesn't like. He wants his partner to be honest- what they like, what they didn't like. He wants them to be honest- not just in the bedroom, either. If something happens, he wants them to come to him. He is Papa- he can pull strings and give out punishments as need be.

-He does follow the color system: Green for good, yellow for slow down/hold on, red for STOP. If his partner can't talk, he prefers for them to use a tap system- one tap for good, two for slow down/hold on, three for stop. If need be, slap his arm. Though, he tends to pay a lot of attention to his partner, so he can usually tell when they're good versus when they aren't.

-He will give gifts. He won't spoil his partner(s), but he will, on occasion, give them a lavish gift. Expensive clothing/lingerie, a new expensive piece of jewelry. He's not like his younger brother- he won't drown his partner(s) in gifts.

-He prefers to know if his partner also has others on the side. He likes to keep tabs on these things, just to be s a f e.

-Leather gloves slipping between their thighs and working them to the brink of completion before pulling away and ordering them to lick his gloves clean, leaving them hanging on the edge.

-Not above having them kneel in front of them and pressing a foot into their crotch, working them up while he deals with paperwork.

-Will order them to give him head while he works. He'll, eventually, stop working and hold their jaw, or tug on their hair, and give them praise. /Will/ release in their mouth. They /will/ swallow, or else receive a punishment (most likely spankings).

•Is the type of man to skullfuck his s/o IF THEY'RE 100% OKAY WITH IT. While others may enjoy the sound of a partner gagging, he doesn't. It grates on his nerves and ruins the mood.

-If his partner cannot take all of him in- that's f i n e. He doesn't mind. They have hands. Make use of them.

-If they can, even better! He has a sizable length, and the girth is nothing to joke about. (It's that demon blood).

-He has a Prince Albert, as well as a small Jacob's Ladder (two piercings along the underside, one directly beneath the other). Yes, they hurt. Yes, they were worth it. All his partners have agreed.

•He can be very rough. This is typically reserved for his... Non-human partners. He knows exactly how thick Ghoul skin is, and what it takes to break it.

-Ghouls are tougher than humans. They can withstand the scrape of his claws across their skin and the sting of his teeth.

-Humans are delicate. However, this doesn't mean he won't be rough. He'll definitely leave bruises on their thighs, hips; bitemarks all across their shoulders and chest and the inside of their thighs. He enjoys seeing his mark on them afterwards.

-Knife play is reserved for a select few whom he knows can handle it. He will break the skin- not deep, just enough to have a few beads of blood pop up. He isn't like, say, Dewdrop, who enjoys more than just a few little drops being spilled. It takes trust, and Papa expects for his partner to know their limits when it comes to times like these.

-Breath play is another one that requires the utmost level of trust. He knows how long to hold down. He enjoys seeing that slight fear cross his partner's face when he squeezes. He's always careful, and never pushes if they do not wish for this.

-His second favorite position is mentioned above: riding. This is usually how he'll start things off- letting his partner ease onto him. Once they get a good rhythm going, then he switches things up. Don't get too cocky; he's always in control. His hips snapping up to meet his partner's thrust for thrust before he grabs their hips and holds them down as he just g r i n d s into them. Or holding their hips in place as he thrusts hard and fast.

-He's also too good at overstimulation- just the right amount to have another orgasm crashing over them. He wants to have them shaking, pleading by the end of it. Begging for him to stop, to keep going, to touch them.

-His quarters have a full bathroom attached and a kitchenette, so no need to go anywhere or call anyone. He'll leave to get warm towels and come back to clean his partner up carefully, asking if anything hurts too much, if they're alright, if they need anything. He keeps fruit in his room for a reason; he'll peel an orange and grab a cold bottle of water for both of them before offering a warm bath or shower.

-If they say yes, then he'll draw them a bath or turn on the shower and let the bathroom warm up before carrying them in. He will get into either if asked politely; otherwise, he'll wait.

-If declined, he has no problem with laying down with his partner and just relaxing for a while.

-Only the special ones get to stay the night, mind you.

#headcanons: nѕғw #sin: you crave the wand #papa emeritus ii #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost roleplay

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missing-marvel · 7 years ago

Text

Lethal Protector

Pairing: Eddie Brock/Reader, Venom/Reader

Tags: violence (but it’s no more than is normal for the character)

A/N: Raise your hand if you’ve ever been personally victimized by the Venom (2018) movie critics.

Also I know Venom isn’t technically MCU but shhh

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

You sighed in annoyance as Eddie’s phone went to voicemail, again. You’d been trying to get ahold of him for almost an hour, but he wasn’t responding. It was date night and he was supposed to pick you up at 7, and it wasn’t like him to be this late. You’d even called his work, but they said he’d left hours ago. You were starting to worry.

A chill settled under your skin as the sun dropped below the rooftops. Giving up on your phone, you pulled your jacket tighter and turned to go back inside.

Once you were in the warmth of your apartment, you opened the messages app one more time.

Working late?

If you need a rain check, it’s okay. I promise I won’t be mad.

Eddie?

He hadn’t even opened your texts. You briefly wondered if he was ignoring you. Was he mad? Had you done something wrong without realizing it? Normally he would talk to you if something was wrong. You found it hard to believe he would just give you the cold shoulder. Even so, you thought carefully for a moment before you sent your next text.

Eddie... is everything ok?

Tossing your phone aside, you flopped down on the couch. You told yourself he was just busy with work or something. If only you were a better liar.

With nothing better to take your mind off the situation, you switched on the TV, mindlessly flipping through stations until you found something mildly entertaining.

You didn’t even realize you’d dozed off until you awoke to a darkened living room. You’d been asleep long enough for the TV to shut itself off apparently. You hadn’t realized how tired you were.

You suddenly remembered Eddie, briefly fumbling around the dark for your phone. You found it wedged between the couch cushions. There was a brief moment of relief when you saw the text notification, only to have that feeling whisked away when you saw it was just from one of your coworkers. You ignored it and opened your chat with Eddie.

Still nothing. Not even a ‘read at’ notification.

A sense of panic rose in your chest. Something was definitely wrong. What did you do in this situation? Did you call the police? How long before a person could be reported missing?

As you were considering going over to Eddie’s apartment, a loud crash pulled you from your thoughts. It came from the next room, which happened to be your bedroom. You immediately assumed someone had broken in. You never could get the landlord to fix the damn lock on the window.

You darted into the kitchen as quietly as you could and grabbed the first thing you could think of; a comically large knife used for cooking. You didn’t like guns and refused to keep one around, so this was the next best thing.

Slowly you crept towards your bedroom, listening for any other noises from the intruder. You thought you heard a very faint shuffling sound, but it could very well have been your imagination. It was certainly too quiet to be footsteps.

After a minute or so of silence, you gently pushed open the bedroom door. You still had the knife in hand, your grip on it tightening until your knuckles turned pale. The lights in the room were off, leaving only the vague outlines of furniture visible. You considered flipping the light switch, but didn’t want to risk the potential intruder using it as a chance for a surprise attack.

The first thing to catch your attention was the lamp in the corner of the room. It had been tipped over and luckily did not appear to be broken. The next thing you saw was the window. It had been slid open maybe an inch or less, barely enough to put your hand under. It didn’t look like anyone had come inside, though they may have come close. Perhaps the window opening caused a vibration that tipped the lamp over and the would-be burglar ran. You were grasping at straws with that one but really had no other explanation.

Your only other theory was that the intruder had tried to shut the window behind them, meaning they were still here. However, The room wasn’t big, and there weren’t many places an intruder could hide.

Just as you were about to turn the light on, a heavy weight suddenly landed on you from above and caused you to panic. You tried to grab at whatever it was but you couldn’t get a grip on it. It was almost as if the substance was slimy. It clung to you like glue. The harder you tried to dislodge it, the more it stuck.

You really began to panic when the mystery substance started moving. It worked it’s way from your shoulder down your arm. As it did, you felt yourself losing control in that arm, the knife slipping from your grasp to the floor with a ‘clang.’ The ooze slowly enveloped your entire body until all you saw was blackness and all you could feel was the pounding of your heart in your chest.

“Do not be afraid.”

The voice was deep and guttural. Somehow, it didn’t seem to emanate from anywhere. It was as if it was inside your head. Suddenly, as quick as it had come, the blackness receded from your vision and seemed to disappear from your body altogether. You inspected your hands and arms, finding no evidence of the ooze that had just been there. You ran to the bathroom in panicked disbelief.

As you investigated your reflection, you found nothing out of place. Had you been hallucinating? Maybe you were still asleep on the couch and this was some weird messed-up dream. Yeah, that had to be it.

“You’re not asleep.”

You spun around and searched for the source of the voice, though once again it sounded like it was in your head. “Who’s there?!” You knew it was a foolish question. You’d spent enough time yelling at people on TV for asking it in similar situations.

Turning back towards the sink, you turned on the cool water. You splashed it on your face, reveling in the chill it gave you. You felt calmer, more grounded in the real world.

‘I must be going crazy,’ you thought.

“Think again.” You looked up to the mirror and nearly leapt out of your skin at the sight. In place of your reflection was an eerie face with dozens of razor-sharp teeth and white patches where it’s eyes should be. It’s ‘skin’ looked the same as the black ooze from before. Before you could scream, it spoke again,

“Listen to me before you start panicking again. I am a friend of Eddie’s. He needs help. You’re the only one we could trust.”

That caught your attention. If Eddie needed help, you would be there. But you still had a lot of questions.

“What do mean by friend?” You all but snarled at the creature in the mirror. “And what the actual fuck are you?!”

The creature actually chuckled. It was a low, formidable rumble that you swore you could feel in your chest.

“Heh heh. No wonder Eddie is so fond of you. I am a symbiote, and Eddie is my host. Or, he was. Now you are, until we get back to him.”

You were a host? Did that make this— this creature like a parasite?

“I am not a parasite!”

The sudden outburst caused you to step back from the mirror reflexively. Did it hear your thoughts? Well, if you were its host then that would make sense, sort of.

“Why don’t I just show you? This will be easier if you cooperate.”

“What do mean—“ Before you could finish, however, the black ooze was back. It reappeared from your arms, swiftly enveloping your body once more. Once again you were plunged into darkness and the feeling of panic returned.

“Relax! You’re making this more difficult than it needs to be.”

For some reason, you found yourself believing the creature, despite having no reason to. As your heartbeat slowed back to a normal pace, you began to feel more in control. Your vision returned, as well as control of your limbs but it was... different. The ground was further away and your body was still covered in that shiny black ooze. Your hands ended in massive talons and you felt so much stronger, like you could lift a bus without breaking a sweat.

Strangest of all, however, was how you didn’t feel like you were fully in control. It was like you were driving a car with both your hand and someone else’s on the steering wheel. When you turned back to face the mirror, it felt like you were the one doing it but at the same time not. Your reflection was that of the creature you had seen before, albeit taller. This time, when you moved, the reflection moved with you. You could tell it wasn’t just in your head.

“Do you understand now?”

Your mouth moved, but the words that came out were the creature’s.

“I— I think so. You’ve been, er, Eddie’s been like this the whole time?” This time it was your words that were in your head.

“For as long as you’ve known him, yes. Now if you’re done freaking out, Eddie needs our help.”

You’d almost forgotten Eddie was in trouble. ‘Almost’ being the key word.

“Lead on. We’ll talk on the way. I’ve got about a million questions. Most importantly, what happened to Eddie?”

You let the symbiote lead, relinquishing some control over your body. You raced back towards the bedroom, prying the window open effortlessly and leaping into the cool night air.

“We were attacked,” the symbiote spoke in your mind this time. It was getting confusing having this shared headspace, yet at the same time it felt completely natural. “Caught off guard by a terrible noise, a siren maybe, and suddenly we’d crashed the bike. Men with guns show up. Target practice really. But then there was another noise, even louder. They had some kind of weapon. We were separated. When the noise finally stopped, Eddie was gone.”

You made your way to the rooftop, leaping and swinging between buildings with ease. The feeling of moving through your environment so easily was like pure adrenaline. You’d never felt more powerful in your life. No wonder Eddie seemed so fearless sometimes.

“Noise? What did noise do?” You leapt over a narrow street onto and adjacent rooftop, scaring the hell of some pigeons. You wondered how no one saw you, but in the dark of night you were naturally camouflaged. Not to mention, most people on the street weren’t watching over their heads.

“A loud enough noise is very bad. Lethal to us.”

“Oh.”

You moved in silence for a few moments, countless more questions racing through your mind but you were unsure how to ask them to the creature you were sharing a body with.

“So, do you have a name?”

“With Eddie, we were known as Venom.”

You would’ve chuckled if you’d had full control of your body. “Venom, huh? You come up with that yourself?”

“I’ll have you know it was a bit different where I come from.”

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s kinda badass. Wait, when you say ‘where you come from—‘

“Another planet.”

“Yeah ok. It’s been a weird enough night, of course you're an alien.”

Before the symbiote could respond, you were thrown off course by an ear-piercing sound. Literally, it felt like it was ripping through your body, threatening to tear you apart. A shriek filled the air and it took you a moment to realize it was yours.

Turning towards the sound’s source, you saw what appeared to be an armored truck racing through traffic. A soldier on top of the truck was wielding some kind of high-tech weapon. When another sound pierced through you, it was apparent that it was the source.

“It would seem they found us first!”

“That saves us half the work.”

That was certainly one way to view it. Luckily, whatever that weapon was, it wasn’t continuous. When the noise stopped, you leapt down to the street below, landing right in front of the truck. With inhuman strength, you grabbed hold of either side of it, claws forming large gouges in the metal. The vehicle’s momentum pushed you backwards until it grinded to a halt. As soon as it stopped, a squad of heavily armored soldiers came spilling from the back of the vehicle.

“That gun’s gotta go first.”

“Way ahead of you.”

Paying no mind to the soldiers on the ground, you pounced onto the roof of the vehicle, causing it to dent inward under your weight. You couldn’t help but enjoy the look of pure terror etched onto the soldier’s face as you towered over him. You tore the weapon from his grasp before he had a chance to fire another shot and threw it to the ground below. The sound of it shattering was immensely satisfying. Without hesitation, you picked up the tiny man by the throat and sent him flying into the side of a nearby building.

A shower of bullets pelted your body as the soldiers below formed into a defensive line. Their efforts were in vain as the bullets merely glanced off of you.

“Look at them. They’re lining up like a buffet.”

You knew exactly what Venom meant, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to hold back. The sheer destructive power you wielded simply felt too good.

You lept to the ground, landing right in the middle of the group of soldiers. Your claws tore through them like a knife through butter. One tried to duck behind a car and you were able to grab him with a single inky black tendril and yank him back to you. You were starting to feel like you’d lost control, not just to Venom necessarily, but to your own anger.

You effortlessly raised the soldier above your head and his screams reminded you of the buzz of a fly. That’s all he was to you; a puny bug, a nuisance to be destroyed.

The realization of what was about to happen hit you just in time.

“Stop!”

You let the man fall from your grasp and merely watched as he scrambled away.

“What are you doing?!” Venom’s voice roared in your mind, clearly surprised by your own outburst.

“You were going to eat him!”

“Yes, we were. That’s what we do.”

“Does Eddie normally let this happen?”

“Eddie says we can only eat very bad people.”

“Well I don’t personally want to eat anyone.”

“You’re starting to sound like him.”

Before your argument could continue, you heard a shaky voice from behind you.

“Stop right there! Or— or I’ll shoot!” One soldier had made it past you, or perhaps had been waiting in the truck. Regardless, he was now standing next to the ruined vehicle with a gun aimed at a rather disgruntled-looking Eddie Brock.

The look in Eddie’s eyes was one of surprise and confusion. “Venom! How did you— who are you—?” He was silenced by the soldier a few paces behind him.

“Shut up!” His body was visibly shaking as he addressed you again, “If you want Brock to live, the symbiote comes with us!” The soldier’s voice shook like a scared child’s. His attempts at being threatening would be laughable if he didn’t have a gun trained on your now-defenseless boyfriend. You needed to act fast.

“What are the odds we can reach this guy before he shoots?”

“Zero.”

“What are the odds we can protect Eddie before the bullet hits him?”

“Almost zero.”

“Well I guess there’s our answer.”

You lunged for the space between the soldier and Eddie, time practically slowing down as you formed one arm into a shield around Eddie, the other reaching out for the soldier. As you just barely managed to block the bullet, your free hand sliced clean through the soldier, his body collapsing instantly.

Before anyone else could show up, you grabbed onto Eddie and swung as fast as you could toward the rooftops, not stopping until you were certain you were in the clear.

Eddie spoke up the second his feet hit the rooftop, “Okay Venom, who did you—“

Before he’d even finished the sentence, Venom’s form retreated and you were back in your own body. Eddie’s eyes widened in shock and he raced over to you, immediately wrapping his arms around you and holding you tightly.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I never wanted you getting involved in any of this. Are you okay?” He pulled away when it became clear he was squeezing you too tightly, cutting off your breathing. Instead he cupped your face in his hands, looking you over for injuries like a worried mother. You loved your boyfriend dearly but sometimes he could get carried away.

“Am I okay? What about you? You were the one that got kidnapped!” Leave it to Eddie to disregard his own well-being after having a gun pointed at his head.

“I’m fine as well, thanks for asking.” You sighed and Eddie gave a half-hearted chuckle. He could tell by your reaction Venom had probably said something snarky, even if he couldn't hear him.

As finally relaxed, at least a little, Eddie's hands came to rest on your waist. “So... Venom huh?”

You shook your head softly, still coming to terms with the fact that this was all normal for Eddie.

“Yeah your friend is really something. Can you uh... take him back?” You didn’t really know how this was supposed to work. Luckily, Eddie did.

In one swift movement, he closed the gap between you, wrapping one arm tightly around your waist. Before you knew it, you felt the familiar feel of his lips on yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck, savoring this moment while it lasted. At the same time, you could feel Venom leave your body as he slid up your arms and returned to Eddie. You felt a momentary pang of loss as the symbiote’s unnatural strength faded away, leaving you vulnerable and all-too-human once more.

You pulled away to get some air but never left Eddie’s grasp. He tilted his head slightly as if listening to something before turning back to you with that smile that you adored so much.

“Venom says he likes you.”

You suppressed a laugh a pulled closer to Eddie, your head resting on his chest. Of course the alien symbiote liked you. The thought was strange, but it was nothing compared to the night you’d had. You were starting to think you could get used to this.

“What do you say we go home? I don’t think we’ll be seeing those mercs again anytime time soon. And besides,” Eddie leaned in close and his voice dropped to a whisper, “I didn’t forget about date night.”

Your cheeks went red and you did your best to hide your face. You felt Eddie laugh and resisted the urge to give him a firm punch on the arm.

“You’re sure we’ll be safe from those soldiers?” you asked.

Eddie leaned to plant a reassuring kiss on your head. “Don’t worry,” his tone seemed to drop almost imperceptibly, as if Venom’s voice intermingled with his own. “As long as we’re around, you’ll be perfectly safe.”

#venom/reader #Eddie brock/reader #marvel fanfiction #venom x reader #Eddie brock x reader

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kivaember · 7 years ago

Note

Plot: In a politcal plot to remove Aymeric from power, the house of lords votes to change his job title to traveling diplomat and sends him to kugane.

(okay i just wrote something for it instead uuuuuuuuuuh no regrets??? man tempted to do a few oneshots of WoL/Aym in Kugane and see how that goes)

“By majority vote,” Artoirel said in a quietly apologetictone, “You have been nominated as Ishgard’s official ambassador to Kugane. Youare expected to report to your new posting by the end of this month, sailingschedules permitting.”

Lucia drew in a sharp breath through her clenched teeth.Aymeric ignored it. He did not flinch, kept his expression one of cool neutralityas he quietly absorbed the blow Artoirel had delivered him. He should begrateful that this had been done in the privacy of his office, and not in thevery public space of the House of Lords session he was meant to be attending inthe next hour. Artoirel himself looked rumpled, as if he had ran here themoment he heard Aymeric had returned from his inspection of Dzaemel Darkhold.

He shouldn’t be surprised. There had been many debates onwho to send as part of the contribution to diplomatic mission in Kugane. TheEorzean Alliance had established an embassy there, eager to try and secure afoothold there to allow better communication and diplomacy with their new Domanally, and sent the call for each City State to contribute. Various names hadbeen drawn up in both Houses, but Aymeric’s had been bandied about the most.

Logically, it made sense: he was charismatic and well knownfor his political acumen. He also had a genuine interest in expanding Ishgard’sforeign ties, was friendly and culturally sensitive to foreigners, and was oneof the loudest supporters for the Eorzean Alliance – and had several enemies inboth Houses that would enjoy neutralising him by sending him as far away asphysically possible without launching him into space. He had already provenhimself too troublesome to cleanly assassinate.

Aymeric folded his hands on his desk, very carefullycompartmentalising his personal feelings on the matter and forced himself toregard it with cold calculation. In all honesty he was impressed at the cunningof this plan – he had been aware there was a voting session whilst he was oninspection, but as it didn’t pertain to any high-profile proposals orlegislation, hadn’t paid much mind to it. If he had known…

Well, what could he have done? From the sounds of it thishad been a plan long in the making and the votes already decided before thedebate had even begun. The majority of Ishgard’s MPs wanted him out of Ishgardand causing trouble for other people. He should, in fact, look at this as anopportunity. He was already coming to the end of his term as Speaker – he hadbeen elected twice, already, and their constitution stated that one could onlydo two consecutive terms at a time – and he had been considering whether to revertto being mainly the Lord Commander or becoming a full-time politician.

It was a prestigious position, on paper. He should behonoured that he was chosen to represent Ishgard and strengthen their ties withtheir allies.

He should be.

(he wasn’t)

“I see,” Aymeric finally said, when three full minutes ofsilence stretched between them, “Thank you for informing me, Lord Artoirel.Should I assume that my presence is therefore not needed in the upcomingsession?”

Artoirel dipped his head, “Correct. It has been decided thatI will carry out the remainder of your duties until the next Speaker is chosenin the upcoming month.”

Aymeric relaxed a fraction at that. At least his exile hadn’twrenched a hole open for the likes of Lord Dounon to slither into, “Am I ableto nominate a successor for Lord Commander, or has that too been decidedwithout me?”

Artoirel winced slightly at that, “If you are able tonominate a successor that meets the Houses’ approval in the next week-”

“Lucia,” Aymeric said instantly.

“Sir,” Luciaprotested, “I am-”

“More than acceptable,” Aymeric said shortly, “LordArtoirel, if the Houses’ have a complaint on my successor, feel free to directthem to myself. Notwithstanding her origins, she has proven herself time andagain as a loyal soldier of Ishgard, unflinching in her service and diligent inher duties. I will accept none other as my successor, if only because she hasbeen carrying out the Lord Commander duties on my behalf for the past few yearsso I know she can do it. She has proven herself.”

A grim kind of humour flickered across Artoirel’s face asLucia stood in stunned silence, “I am sure no one will protest, sir.”

“I will protest,”Lucia said immediately, “Sir, my place is at your side.”

“You would be better served here, Lucia,” Aymeric said, “Irefuse to relinquish this seat to someone who would abuse it. I know I cantrust you with Ishgard and the Temple Knight’s best interests.”

Lucia wavered, but after a pause where Aymeric met her gaze evenly,her shoulders slumped and she inclined her head with a soft, unhappy, “Understood,sir.”

“I shall leave you to your preparations, Lord Commander,”Artoirel said, rising from his seat, “I wish you luck in your new position.”

The door that clicked shut behind the departing Artoirelsounded damningly final. Silence reigned again, until slowly, Aymeric pushedhis seat back and stood up.

Lucia watched him with wary eyes, “Sir?”

“Pardon me, Lucia,” he said with a strange, unsteady sort ofcalm, “I need a moment to collect my thoughts. Please take over my duties untilI return.”

“… yes, sir.”

Aymeric barely remembered the walk back to his home. Hismind was too busy spinning over how he had been exiled from a home he had shed sweat, blood and tears over for all hislife. Should he be surprised, though? From the moment Lord Borel had raised himup from one of the many unwanted, faceless orphans that clogged up the Brume,Aymeric had always had to viciously fight and defend his place in a world thatwas determined to shut him out, had always had to dig his heels in so he wasn’ttossed aside. No one had believed he would amount to anything more than alow-rank knight – and even then, that had been considered too good for a bastardlike him. But he had proven them wrong – had forced them to look at him and admit he was better than his peers who came from good stock.

That did not come from being passive and earnest. Aymerichad to be more ruthless, more calculating and smarter and stronger and moreskilled to achieve his goals. He had crushed more than a few noble hopefulsunder his heel to claw his way into the position of Lord Commander, and while hewas eventually, grudgingly,acknowledged… he was never accepted.

He’d gotten complacent, he realised. He thought things hadchanged enough that he could relax into a position he made himself and not worry about having to continuously prove hisworth to remain there. He was elected! They wanted him there! They wanted him there!

Hah. What a lie he told himself.

When he reached home, he stood in the front hallway for along while, feeling adrift. He should start getting his affairs in order. Heneeded to see if he could transfer his funds from the Ishgardian bank to whateverthe equivalent was in Kugane, he needed to find which ports directly travelledto Kugane, he needed to pack and whatwas he going to do with this house? Should he place everything in storage? Lasthe heard the diplomatic mission in Kugane was a three year posting, but what ifthey just continuously renewed his place there? He’d never come home and thenwhat? There was so much to consider in so short a time – transporting hisbelongings would have to be done the slow way, by ship, even if he possessedjust enough anima and aetherical control to teleport to Kugane. Though it tooka lot out of him and he had to take a day to sleep it off and-

Aymeric closed his eyes and stopped his thoughts, taking adeep, long breath.

…

He couldn’t believe he had been exiled.

Realising he wasn’t going to get anything done, Aymeric satdown on the bottom step of his stairwell and stared at his hands. If this hadhappened differently, if this had been a choiceof his, he knew he would be excited and eager to carry out a diplomatic missionin a foreign country. But it wasn’t his choice. It was a thinly veiledrejection, of the Houses coming together and saying ‘thanks for everything butwe don’t want you here anymore so go be someone else’s problem’, and that…

That really hurt.

Aymeric gently prodded that hurt for a moment and sighed. Itsounded childish even to him. No doubt there were more than a few who genuinelythought he was the best man for the job, who probably thought he’d be overjoyedat such a posting, but emotions rarely took logic into consideration, so he wasleft with a throat-clenching, chest-tightening ache that he had to breathe throughslowly.

He’d get over it, he told himself as he rubbed roughly athis face. He always got over it. He just needed to think how this would be adelightful change of pace, and how it opened so many new opportunities andexperiences for him. He would enjoyit, the initial pain of sorting his admin out aside, and it might, potentially,mean more time with Aza-

-shit. Aza. Aza hated Kugane.

It felt like a stone had dropped hard into the bottom of hisstomach. Aza refused to go to Kuganeunless it was absolutely vital for work or to fulfil a favour for a friend. IfAymeric was trapped there full time, would Aza go against his understandableand visceral hatred of the place to visit him? Even if he did, would Aymericeven ask him of that? It seemed cruel, and he couldn’t force Aza to besomewhere he hated. He would hate it, Aza would hate it, and they’d be equallymiserable.

For a very brief, desperate moment, Aymeric was actuallytempted to do something drastic like commit political suicide and force theHouses to elect someone more ‘proper’… only to realise that they’d probablysend him anyways as punishment for whatever he did. He anxiously stood up,paced the width of his front hallway, and sat down again, feeling a caged animal.

He should call Aza.

Forcing himself to push away his unsettled emotions andfocus, he tapped at his linkpearl, reaching for his partner’s frequency. He wasat Camp Dragonhead today, helping Lord Emmanellain with some task or other, sothe connection should be stable enough without enduring static-

“Hello?”

“Aza,” Aymeric murmured, feeling his stomach do somethingvery weird and potentially medically unhealthy, like it couldn’t decide whetherto twist or sink, “Hello, love.”

“Aym?” Aza’s surprisewas understandable. Aymeric only tended to call his linkpearl for long absencesor emergencies, “What’s wrong? Are youokay?”

“I’m-” he found himself incapable of finishing. He was fine, but also not. He also feltinexplicably foolish. Aza was supposed to be back by dusk, and it seemedridiculous to call him in the middle of work simply because Aymeric’s feelingswere hurt over a reassignment. It wasn’t pressing, or an emergency, and couldvery easily wait for that evening when Aymeric didn’t feel so raw about it.

“It’s nothing,” he said instead, “I’m sorry if I distractedyou. I’ll speak to you to-”

“Bullshit,” Aza interruptedsharply, “Aym, you sound really fucking upset. What happened? Do I have tokill someone?”

“I- do not sound upset,” Aymeric said unconvincingly, becausehe sounded strained even to his own ears, “No one needs to be killed either.”Unless Aza was willing to eliminate the entirety of Ishgard’s government, thatis.

(Terrifyingly, Aymeric knew Aza would do that, for him, but it was best not to dwell on those things)

“You sure?” Aza’stone gentled, “C’mon, tell me what’swrong. I’m just sitting here watching people fail at mining, so I can talk. Youwon’t be bothering me.”

Fail at mining? “How can you fail at mining?”

“Easily, if you’re a CampDragonhead knight, apparently. They keep fucking up the extraction ofdarksteel,” Aza sighed, “Amateurs,honestly. I’m gonna wait for a few hours before putting them out of theirmisery.”

Aymeric was half-tempted to ask about how one exactly ‘fuckedup the extraction of darksteel’, but that would be procrastinating and both ofthem knew it. Aza would indulge him, but Aymeric really shouldn’t try talkingcircles about this. He took a moment.

Aza patiently waited. On his end he could hear the softcrackle of the aether connection, distant, muffled shouts and the howl of astrong wind.

“… I’m… I’m no longer the Speaker of the House of Lords,” Aymericfinally said, surprised at how much it hurt to say that aloud. It was more realwhen he actually said and acknowledged it.

“You’re… how?” Azagasped, “I thought you had another twomonths!”

“It seems,” Aymeric muttered, his voice brittle, “That theHouses unanimously agreed that I would be better served in Kugane as Ishgard’srepresentative in the Eorzean Alliance’s embassy.”

“They’re kicking youout of Ishgard!?” Aza hissed,understanding immediately, “They can’t dothat! You’re the reason their government isn’t a steaming pile of shit rightnow! You single-handedly-”

“I cannot claim all the credit for Ishgard’s recentsuccesses,” Aymeric said tiredly, “I’m not that arrogant to think the governmentrevolves around me. No, I…” he paused and then continued with a conviction hedidn’t feel, “I have fulfilled my purpose here, and can… do more in Kugane. It’sfine. It’s a prestigious position to have and they clearly think I can do wellin it. It… it will go well.”

“…” Aza sighed, “Aym, you don’t have to lie to me.”

Aymeric felt awful. He wanted this conversationface-to-face. He should have waited, “I’m not lying.”

“You are,” Azasaid firmly, “You’re upset, so be upset.Why else did you call me? C’mon.”

“To give you the good news?” Aymeric croaked out.

“You didn’t even tryto sound sincere then,” Aza said, unimpressed, “Look, I’ll come home right now-”

“You hate Kugane,” Aymeric blurted.

“What?”

“You hate Kugane,” Aymeric repeated, “So, if I’m there… you-”

“Gods, Aym,” Azasounded like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or yell at him, “Yeah, I hate it, but… shit. I won’t letthat stop me from visiting you or hogging your blankets. You’ll have to pry meout of your bed almost every morning, same as usual.”

“But,” Aymeric began and… faltered, because that part of Aza’spast was always a taboo subject, “Your history…”

“Was over twenty yearsago,” Aza murmured so quietly Aymeric almost didn’t hear him, “I… I’ll be okay. For you, I’ll be okay. Imean, try to have your living quarters as Eorzean as possible and don’t startdressing like a Doman, but… yeah, it’ll be fine.”

Aymeric wavered, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Aza soundedlike he was smiling, “You’re totallyworth a bit of discomfort, handsome. You just gotta be extra distracting whenever I visit, okay?”

“Easily done,” Aymeric said with unspeakable relief. Thatwas one burden eased from hisshoulders, at least.

“Was that the onlything that was upsetting you?”

Aymeric hesitated, but confessed, “No. I’m… there is more.”

“Okay,” Aza’svoice was gentle, “Let me show these guyshow to mine, and I’ll be home within the hour so we can talk properly, alright?”

“Alright,” Aymeric almost whispered, “Don’t needlessly rush.I can wait.”

“Pfft. No, you can’t. You’remore important to me than a bunch of stupid rocks. Go make your birch tea shitand go relax. I’ll be with you soon.”

“It’s not ‘birch tea shit’,” Aymeric grumbled, “It’s-”

“Love you, handsome!”Aza cut over him cheerily, and made a noisy kissing noise down the line, “Talk to you soon!”

“Aza-”

‘Click!’

Aymeric lowered his fingers from the linkpearl at thatrather rude hang up and sat there for a moment. He felt, surprisingly, a littlebetter. The hurt was beginning to slowly give way to simmering, ugly resentmentand indignation, but Aymeric put a lid on that for when Aza came home and stoodup.

He still felt adrift. He still felt as stunned as if he’djust taken a knife to the back, but… at least he knew Aza would still be withhim, every step of the way. And he’d recover from this. He always bounced backfrom shit like this, from people determined to declaw him and render himharmless. He just needed to brush the dust off his more… ruthless tendencies.

Deep breath. Exhale.

Good.

With his head lifted high, Aymeric made for the kitchens to makehis ‘birch tea shit’, to prepare for his new political battlefield.

#ffxiv #fanfic #aymeric de borel #warrior of light #artoirel fortemps #lucia goe junius #politics or smth #kinda wanna do a series of aymeric in kugane as a diplomat #and getting into a passive aggressive war with the garlean diplomats

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betweensceneswriter · 7 years ago

Text

Island Hopper (Jimjeran Book 2)- Chapter 14 : Ache

Claire continues to work on the Field Ship and finds herself getting to know John better and missing Jamie...

Previously on Island Hopper

To the Table of Contents

At breakfast the next morning, I found myself at the same table as Dr. Saul. We smiled at each other across the table as we attempted to fuel ourselves for the day with a breakfast of rice, fish, and breadfruit. I found myself longing for a bowl of Jamie’s steel cut oatmeal—what he called ‘porridge’—chewy and satisfying especially when topped with brown sugar and powdered milk. Thinking of him made me feel even emptier than I already did.

“It’s a shame that there’s not time for follow-ups,” the kindly doctor remarked, his brown eyes a contrast to his stark white hair. “Some of the teeth I had to pull yesterday could actually have been saved if I had time to do a crown. But with such a short time to visit, if a cavity goes deep enough and can’t be fixed with an amalgam filling the tooth has to go.”

“I feel the same way,” I replied, pushing the dry roasted breadfruit around my plate. As much as I tried to tell myself it was just a starch like potatoes and that despite its name it wasn’t supposed to taste like either bread or fruit, I couldn’t bring myself to eat it if it wasn’t drenched in oil and salt. “I guess Arno is lucky to have a nurse practitioner there, though we don’t have a dentist… speaking of which, Dr. Saul, do you think I might be able to observe an extraction? A toothache is one of the things that makes people miserable, and I’d like to be able to at least help them if they’ve got a horribly abscessed tooth. I don’t want to make it worse for them by cracking a tooth off in their jaws.”

Dr. Saul smiled. “You’ve got to become a jack of all trades out on these islands, don’t you?” He looked at me curiously. “My wife was a nurse before we retired. I’ve tended to come on these adventures without her, but I keep on wishing she would be willing, for a short time if not several months, to serve out on one of these islands.” He smiled. “Then I’d finally have time to do dental work the way I’d like to, and she could be my assistant if she wasn’t otherwise occupied.”

All too soon it was time for us to take our dishes to the galley, call out “kommool tata” to the cook, and head to our respective stations.

We had docked on Jabor, the islet with the largest population on Jaluit. I was surprised to see how westernized the little town was, like a miniature Majuro. Instead of palm trees radiating out from the dock, there were some paved roads and some coral gravel roads, houses, a couple of small stores, and a school. It seemed like every spare inch of space was covered with either a building or road.

The ship still had a large delivery of boxes to offload and copra to pick up, but it was obvious that the residents had less need of the medical services we provided. Dr. Saul, however was quite busy, so during my patient breaks he was able to coach me through several extractions. He showed me how to grip the tooth and rock it back and forth in its socket to loosen the bone and detach the ligament before removing the tooth. Preparation, he said, was extremely important and would prevent the tooth splintering on removal.

He also demonstrated what to do if a tooth cracked on its way out—how to flush the cavity and make sure to extract the other pieces, to close the opening with a few stitches, as well as giving the patient instructions to rinse their mouths with salt water until fully healed.

John had a bit of a weak stomach, so he was quite grateful to relinquish the assistant spot to me, and instead manned the fort in the clinic to come get me if I had a patient and handed out toothbrushes and toothpaste to curious children peering into the dental operatory.

Because Jabor was so well-supplied and urbanized, the ship only spent half the day there. At our lunch break, the boat left the dock and pressed north to another island in the atoll a 45-minute journey away.

After we’d filled our plates, John and I found a shady spot on the upper deck to eat, as far away as possible from the bags of copra piled high on the main deck so that the rancid odor no longer overpowered us. It was getting worse as the trip progressed and the supply of smoked coconut increased, though if we ever got a breeze at night, it seemed to blow the smell away. However, in the past few days the ocean had been remarkably still and currently the only disturbance on the water was the white “v” of our wake.

“Where are we going now?” I asked John.

“Imiej,” he replied. “It was where the Japanese were based during World War II here.” John pointed ahead to the far end of the long green island parallel to our course. “There are ruins of barracks and an old Shinto shrine there, as well as wrecks of boats and airplanes that divers come to see.”

“I knew that Guam was held by the Japanese during World War II,” I nodded. “I hadn’t realized that the Marshall Islands were, too.”

“It’s taken a while for us to travel toward independence,” John smiled. “In the 1880s during the imperialism rush, Germany claimed the Marshall Islands. They put in a trading post here on Jaluit. After World War I, Germany lost the territory and we were given to Japan.”

“As if your nation was something that could belong to anyone other than her people?”

John inspected his fish and selected the perfect bite to pair with his rice. John was handsome, refined, and distinguished, and yet he looked just as at home eating coconut rice and barbecued fish with his fingers as if he was using utensils in a fine dining establishment.

“Well, Claire,” he said, smiling patiently, “Though a small nation does not have much control of her destiny, what can be accomplished viewing history with bitterness? Our histories make us who we are. During that time, we gained Japanese immigrants, and although many were repatriated to Japan after the war, if they’d intermarried, they were allowed to stay here.”

“I was thinking Ogawa sounded very Asian,” I responded. “Our general store out on Arno is owned by an Ogawa. And a few of Jamie’s students have a blend of Marshall and Japanese features.”

John nodded.

“A lot of late World War II was fought in the Pacific, as I recall,” I said. “The US liberated Guam from the Japanese before the war ended.”

“The Japanese base here on Jaluit was bombed during World War II. The US took the Marshalls in early 1944, and the war didn’t end until a year and a half later. After the war we became part of the Trust Territories of the Pacific Islands.”

“Forgive my ignorance,” I said. “But are the Marshall Islands still a territory of the US? Guam is.”

“No, we gained our independence in 1986,” John said with a smile. “Thirty-two years ago. We might still be considered a protectorate of the US—they provide defense for us, and the US postal system delivers mail here as if we were a territory or state. Considering that we only have 55,000 people in the entire nation, we aren’t any sort of superpower.”

I set down my plate and leaned forward toward John. “I’m missing my husband,” I said. “Tell me how you met.”

John’s face brightened. “I think it was my first day of College Writing,” he said. “I like to do well in school, so I was one of the few people sitting toward the front of the classroom. The next thing I know a very large ri-palle with bright red hair sat down by me. Sorry,” he said, “Ri-pālle means…”

“No need to translate,” I said. “That’s Jamie’s name for me half the time.”

John looked amused. “He calls you Ri-pālle?”

“Aet,” I nodded. “As in ‘itōk Ri-pālle.’”

He shook his head in amusement. “That Jamie… always kakūtōtōik—teasing. Sometimes,” John said, “the teasing hides a deep hurt… He has mentioned his family, of course.”

I nodded.

“The loss of his father in particular,” said John. He started to ask me a question, then stopped himself. “Has he mentioned me?”

I shook my head slowly. “But John,” I explained, “I have only known him a little over two months.”

John stared at the wake of the boat. “Jamie was just the opposite of everything I’d seen every day since I was a kid. Red hair instead of black; curly instead of straight. Tall instead of short. Big instead of petite. You can see I’m bigger than the average Marshallese because I’m half white. And having never met my father, I was drawn to Jamie. It was like I was seeing the other half of myself, the other half of my identity.” He paused. “And I was coming to grips with another part of my identity as well, deciding whether it was safe, whether I was ready to come out of the closet.”

“It’s a big decision,” I responded. “My best friend Joe is gay. Coming out to his mom was the hardest thing he’d ever done. Of course, she gave him a big ol’ hug and said, ‘Honey, I’ve known forever. I just wondered when you were going to figure it out.’” I remembered the glassy look of tears in Joe’s eyes when he’d told me that story, when he’d shared how freeing it was to be able to be real with his momma.

“Sometimes it’s hard to stay home and make that change,” I said. “Joe moved across the country for college, and he’s settled in Colorado.”

John looked straight at me. “At times I feel certain that moving away is what I need to do to really be able to be myself. But I’m tied to this place. I just haven’t been able to leave.”

The peaceful camaraderie of our boat journey quickly came to an end when we docked at Imiej and soon the staff of all the offices were back to work. By the end of our second work day, I had reached a level of efficiency that reminded me of my days in the ER, funneling patients through as quickly as possible, assessing their needs and providing care in a prompt manner. I missed the relaxed, communal nature of my practice on Arno but it was also stimulating to rush again. There was a part of me that recognized that sensation of stress and responded by shutting down the social part of my brain and triggering the professional part.

But after dinner, when the field ship was heading across the still sea toward our next destination, the atoll of Ailinglaplap; the part of my heart that longed for connection couldn’t help but ache. I crept up to the top deck again and sat by the railing, gazing out toward the east, opposite the final rays of the setting sun. Somewhere over those black, still waters lay the island of Majuro. And beyond that was Arno and Jamie. I hugged my knees to my chest and closed my eyes.

I’d been homesick at camp before. I’d had that baby ache when I longed to be a mother. And I’d missed Frank when I first came out to Arno. But missing Jamie hurt all over. I pictured him coming home to me, his face beaming at the sight of me, imagined him after a morning jog, entering our apartment with a smile on his face, sweaty and hungry for breakfast and me, and the look on his face as he determined which to have first. I thought of him getting dressed in the morning standing by the closet in boxer briefs—how just the sight of him: damp curls around his ears and neck, the lines of his back and visible tone of his muscles could draw me to him as if nothing else existed, unsatisfied until I had seduced him, until I had tasted him fresh with the scent of soap, until I had made him moan and say my name, gasp and blink his eyes in awe and then chuckle, speechless on our bed.

I thought of being held—in that bed, on the couch, in the hammock, standing in the kitchen doing the dishes with him hugging me from behind, his breath in my hair, his body a solid wall of security behind me. I thought of talking in our bed in the darkness of night, the pleasure of telling stories of our childhoods and discussing things that mattered to us. There was continued joy in the discovery of who Jamie was, and with each new revelation of his thoughtful character, I thanked providence for bringing us together.

Someone cleared his throat behind me, and I startled at the sound, at first concerned but then grateful to realize it was Dougal MacKenzie and not one of the deck hands who I occasionally found leering at me.

“Well, young lady,” he said, coming over by me and sitting down on a box. “Here you are, outside at night alone again.” He chuckled, so I began to think I wasn’t in trouble with him. “We havena had many opportunities to get acquainted, but I thought I might take a moment to check with you and see how you are doing.”

I was grateful I hadn’t succumbed to the impulse I was feeling right before he arrived which was to start crying. It was probably good to be distracted.

“I’m definitely keeping busy, Mr. MacKenzie,” I said. “I’ve seen so many skin ailments and infections galore and given out at least a third of the boil prevention kits I brought along with me.”

“Indeed? That’s good….” We sat in silence for a moment before he began again. “So you and Jamie have been married a month now?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” I responded. “It was our anniversary when you radioed us.”

I could barely see his face with the sunset fading behind him, but I had a sense that he was smiling.

“Miss Beauchamp,” he started. “I mean, Mrs. Fraser. There are moments when I regret not speaking out against your marriage. It was a sudden decision, and I have wondered whether by not forbidding it, I allowed the two of you to move forward with a life choice that will prove painful to both of you. I hope it wasn’t a mistake.”

“Oh, no, it wasn’t a mistake, Mr. MacKenzie,” I insisted. “As much as it seemed sudden, Jamie and I had a connection from our first meeting.”

“Truly?” Mr. MacKenzie asked.

“I love him, sir,” I said. “I was just sitting here thinking of him. It may have been being reprimanded for my behavior and realizing what it would mean to lose him that was the catalyst, but I believe that we would have ended up dating and marrying if life had continued as it was. I was falling in love with him, and he said he wanted me from the beginning.”

“So I don’t need to second guess my decision to let you be married? I often consider my sister Ellen when I think of the lad. When she died and then Brian left, I knew I needed to provide for him. He needed a man, an example, to get him back on the right path. And though I think I’ve been firm with him and demanded much, I hope it has not worked for ill in his life.”

“Jamie is a very hard worker, sir,” I said. “And yet gentle and kind too.”

“Well, I canna take any credit for the gentle and kind part,” Dougal laughed. “Nor do I think that it was all Ellen’s doing, as sweet as she could sometimes be. I think it was his father, Brian. Though I don’t know what sort of tenderhearted person would leave his son and daughter when they were still grieving their mother and brother.” He faded into silence.

“Jamie was lucky to have you, sir,” I responded quietly. “And I’m grateful to you, too.”

He pushed himself up from the box. “I promised Jamie I would keep you safe. So you’d better come down with me and get settled in your stateroom for the night. And in the future, if you wish to have time alone after dark, perhaps you could knock on my door and mention it to me. I can stand guard at the stairs.”

Before the man could move away, I hugged him. “You’re family now, Mr. MacKenzie,” I explained. “Thanks for trying to take care of me.”

He patted me awkwardly on the back, and I followed him downstairs, smiling as I entered my room. The hug hadn’t been from Jamie, but it would do.

On to Chapter 15: Hugs and Kisses The days drag on and on, but the ship is heading back toward Jamie…

#jimjeran #island hopper #jamie x claire #outlander fanfic #alternate universe #canon divergent #book 2 #kinda boring #but sweet

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bleedingcoffee42 · 8 years ago

Text

Absent- Part 29

Prev. Parts

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“Shut up.” Riza hissed at him and prepared to throw a book at his head. “I am tired of you changing the subject.”

“I'm doing what you expect of me. “ Kimblee replied. “I am a figment of your imagination based upon your very limited, but apparently influential, time with me.”

“Then flaunt your knowledge like I expect you to.” Riza demanded. “How is this alchemist controlling my dreams with this coin?”

“REM sleep is when you dream, the most vivid and involved dreams. That is what you're experiencing now. That is what is making it so hard to wake you, because naturally your body uses this deep sleep to repair itself and recover from what you put it through.” Kimblee explained. “During this level of sleep your brain disconnects from it's sensory information from the outside world, but still remains as active as if you were awake. It's chemical. The alchemy is based on manipulating chemicals in your mind.”

“So do I need to...break the hold on the alchemy or break down the chemicals?” She wasn't sure and the idea that this was all in her brain was frightening. Alchemy was about taking something and making something else, but in the process sometimes the new composition didn't hold the exact same amount of materials. Energy could be used instead of mass and chemicals could break free....which meant something lose in her brain that might not have a way of getting out. This was where she started to worry Kimblee wasn't her best source for information because deep down she knew he would take delight in seeing her head explode. Truth, as she had told Ed in a conversation once, didn't sound like it was being fair. Punishment it delivered was ironic and meant to teach a lesson not equivalent exchange in the most natural sense. There was no reason for both boys to suffer differently unless Truth was indeed a 'creepy little asshole'. So Kimblee....being Truth.....could only take her so far without enacting his own 'toll' for the information he dispensed. She looked up a him and he seemed to be more interested in spinning the coin on the table than reading her thoughts.

“The interesting thing is that while you are in this dream state you are able to see many layers of a more intense reality. That's why you are able to have this dream, living through your fears, your alternative options, accessing everything that you have ever been exposed to...it's like being one of us: An alchemist.” Kimblee said. “Operating on so many levels that it can not be explained to a simpleton. This is what it's really like being an alchemist. Imagine being able to do this while awake with all the sensory distractions, access every bit of knowledge lodged in your mind, see the layers of alternative options and having available things you would rationally dismiss to think about. In your mind you see layers, reality...nature...knowledge and energy. It's how we're able to do what we do. It's a symphony, so many instruments combining to make one spectacular experience.”

Riza stared at him, studying him, remembering his true nature that she really believed he was hiding. The truth was.... this was all a fabrication based on her knowledge, her feelings and her fears. This was not a man to be trusted, even if he had no reason to lie. “This isn't alchemy. It's lucid dreaming.”

“Something else I'm sure your shrink told you in an attempt to help you conquer your nightmares.” Kimblee leaned back in his chair. “Look, I'm trying to help you and now you're changing the topic. Do you remember the benzene ring, the ouroboros? Well that also shows up in psychology, not just alchemy, it represents introspection. This whole therapy routine about conquering nightmares, to do that you have to become lucid and take charge. It's examining your thoughts and feelings, it's self reflection..it's understanding your soul. It's enlightenment. You've already overridden the chemicals and pushed aside the fog of sleep, just keep pushing. Use your mind, use your energy, focus on that damned circle and let everything around you fade out. Nothing else here matters. Only taking charge of this nightmare and waking up.”

“Right.” She said and decided the time for talk was over and it was time to try. So she pulled the coin in front of her. She remembered what her other self had told her, that it was just like looking through the scope and finding her target. She just needed to concentrate on it, lose all focus on everything around her and just see this transmutation circle. She automatically started to control her breathing and locked her vision on one thing and one thing only, the coin. Kimblee, the books, the library all fades out into her fuzzy peripherals.

“The chemicals that work on your brain during this degree of sleep are animo acids. Chains of Hydrogen, Nitrogen and Oxygen. These are elements you understand. “ Kimblee said. “Oxygen is what is controlled to direct a channel for a flame to travel. It's how the Flame Alchemist controls his weapon. Take control of this weapon, manipulate the oxygen and become the Flame Alchemist.”

She wanted to scream at him that she was not an alchemist and certainly never going to be the Flame Alchemist, however she didn't want to brake her concentration, The coin was her target, a blink or shift away from it would possibly lose her chance to take the shot she needed. She had helped Roy study, she had helped him decode the tattoo, she had helped him when he was so strung out on trying to conquer her father's notes that he couldn't see what was in front of him: Oxygen. It was what would enable his flames to travel, the basic comprehension of combustion wasn't enough to actually wield the flames. It wasn't simply scratching the ignition cloth and creating a fire with it, oxygen was what would fuel the fire and also direct it on it's path to it's destination. She had to be careful with it, releasing oxygen molecules into her blood stream or brain was definitely a terrible idea.

“That's the comprehension, now turn over the coin.” Kimblee said. “Waking from sleep has nothing to do with destroying those chemicals, it has more to do with the build up of acetylcholine. It's a neurotransmitter. It activates your muscles. That's what will wake you. It's made up of Oxygen and Nitrogen. Turn the coin over.”

She didn't want to, she was too focused on it. Losing focus would lose this odd connection she had with understanding elements and the chemicals and....alchemy. Was this what it was like? This fading of reality to focus on this invisible element until you could feel the concentration, see the blur of it be heavier like a wave of heat off a warm car. Slight, but impossible to completely see it, just something on the edges of her vision. In order for Kimblee to get the satisfaction he was looking for she had to use alchemy to destroy her own body, her own mind....so his help here had to be genuine. He needed her to do this to get gratification.

“Turn it over.” Kimblee ordered.

She reached out and did as told and it took a lot of effort to make sure she didn't lose her hyper focus. She looked at the new circle. It was different. It was the key out of here. She just had to comprehend it, but she didn't even have the slightest clue about these chemicals. Oxygen....oxygen she could understand. How it reacted, it's states, the atomic weight was 15.99, it's atomic number was 8....Roy had studied it and she with him. She had quizzed him. She had been there and actually enjoyed learning with him because he had been such an enthusiastic student. This coin was....worthless. She had to go with what she knew and that was oddly enough Flame Alchemy.

“Equivalent exchange. How the sleep cycle rotates from the control of the chemicals on one side of this coin to the ones that would wake you on the back side. The levels have to balance out, as one fades the other will rise to take over and then relinquish it's control after it's numbers faded. It is a circle, like the ouroboros or the transmutation circle or the coin.”

She stopped listening to him and concentrated so hard on the coin that his voice seemed to become incredibly distant. What she wanted now was Roy, someone she would trust implicitly and she thought back to those days on her worn living room floor as he spread out mountains of notes and homework about to be overwhelmed by it's shear quantity. Her father was trying to bury him under the work, trying to see what he was made of and she didn't want to see him fail. So they sat up at night and worked on it all and she tried to copy his handwriting as they worked out some problems together.

So maybe she did have alchemy lessons after all, because Roy would never leave her behind. Even with some of the basic work, things he already mastered, he had sat there and explained it to her with his energy that was instantly renewed when he had the change to become the teacher. The excitement of sharing his passion, the comradely of having someone to spent his time with and the blossoming love that she started to feel because of the way he treated her and wanted to include her.

And the energy began to flow through the coin again, a feeling of peace and understanding was overcoming her and allowing her to relax. Knowledge she never knew what to do with and a new found faith in herself, allowed her the confidence to relax and take a chance by picking up the chalk that was on the table and drawing the Flame Alchemist's array. She lost sight of the coin and sketched out the array she knew so well and it came so easily. She clapped and placed her hands on the table, then closed her eyes and put every ounce of her strength into focusing in making her muscles move again. Oxygen flowed and with it she felt a spark of energy and excitement. Her heart began to race and she was convinced the right path here was not in changing chemicals or doing anything to influence her brain, but in overriding it all with her body by flooding it with enough endorphin to force herself to wake up.

Riza knew now that she had to become the Flame Alchemist to leave here.

Flame alchemy was more than just fire, it was oxygen. She focused on the oxygen concentration and started to pull more of it closer to her. If she could force her body to feel an external threat, if she could affect her body from the outside and force a response, these sleep chemicals would be overridden. Her body was already trying to wake up, but the muscle paralysis was part of the inhibitors job, so if she targeted a major system her body would produce a fight or flight response and those chemicals would initiate a greater reaction. It was self-preservation, sleep be damned.

To make it more impactful, she imagined the dizziness was because Kimblee was preparing to kill her and the atmosphere was closing in on her prior to one of his explosions. Her heart began to race, her breathing hitched and that familiar wave of energy from her body's fight response started to course through her veins.

#fic #absent

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