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cordeliawhohung · 9 months

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Ischemia

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader - part eleven of "soft spot"

Scars have healed, and the sun shines brighter, but something is still eating at Simon.

warnings: minor angst, smut, fingering, p in v,

wc: 6.7k

Lazy waves lapped at your feet.

It should have been cold as ice but you felt nothing as you sat in the sand, watching the seafoam cling to your legs. Several seagulls floated in the water in front of you, much too close for comfort. Their beady eyes pierced through you as if they didn’t know how to do anything else, and they were utterly silent like they had forgotten how to sing. The only things they knew how to do was sit there and judge you for everything you had done in your life.

“Are you happy now?”

The voice came from behind you, but you didn’t dare to turn around. Grains of sand hit your hand as someone approached you, and then you heard the soft sound of splashing water. Legs stretched into the water next to you, and more foam began to cling to your body as it connected you to your new partner. Salt stung your eyes as the bubbles fizzed and popped, yet you did your best to not let your eyes water.

“I… don’t know,” you answered simply, voice more empty than it should have been.

“Why not?” they asked.

Finally, you looked away from those lifeless birds and to your side where you were met with a familiar and cold gaze. Her eyes were just as empty as they had been all that time ago in that basement when she handed you that steak knife, but her hair was different. Shorter, maybe? No, it was out of its ponytail. Loose, blonde strands danced around her shoulders in the dull wind, and for a moment you thought she looked prettier that way.

“I think I’m happy, but sometimes I’m not,” you admitted with a tilt of your head. Pausing, you turned back to face the ocean in front of you. The seagulls had vanished, and you noticed that the water felt like it started to lap against your lower stomach and not just your legs. “How can you tell? If you’re happy or not?”

She shrugged, and you felt her hands move in the sopping wet sand underneath you as she did so. Dark clouds loomed in the distance, but there was no thunder. Everything was just grey, some sort of empty void, and if the ocean water wasn’t so dark you were certain you wouldn’t have been able to tell where the earth ended and the sky began.

“I don’t think you can,” she said softly. A distinct splash of water sent a few droplets your way as the woman reached her hand out in the ocean. You watched her hand as it glided on top of the waves, foam weaving between her fingers. It was up to your ribcage by that point, where it soaked through your shirt. “I think you just know. You wake up one day and realize all your wounds are scars now.”

Nodding your head, you began to mirror the woman's movements. Silky smooth water ran over your hand with ease, and you were so enamored with the way it felt you almost didn’t realize just how high the water had risen.

“Are you still bleeding?” the woman then asked.

“Sometimes,” you admitted.

“How much?”

“Less than before.”

“Good.”

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you like a heavy blanket, and you were content just listening to the sound of the waves on the shore, despite how far away they sounded. Things continued to steadily turn grey, yet at the same time things seemed brighter. There was no warmth or comfort to it, but there was no ill intent. It simply was.

“The water is rising,” you noticed as you allowed your hand to fully submerge itself.

“You’ve been through worse,” she defended as if it was nothing.

There was nothing more to be said after that. She was right. You had once prayed that the water would rise high enough that it would sweep you away into its depths. Wrap you safe in its arms and keep you at the bottom of the ocean where nothing would ever find you. But when the water started to swallow your body, soaking your hair and consuming every bit of you, you began to float on top of the seafoam.

Every muscle in your arms and legs tensed so quickly your body nearly levitated off of the bed. Dull white walls reflected the light of the morning sun brightly on the ceiling, and you found yourself squinting as you tried to rub at your face. One sharp inhale and an annoyed sigh later, the pounding in your chest began to slow and just as the tension in your body began to melt away, a pair of strong arms snaked around your center where you were pulled into Simon’s chest. You could tell from his over-emphasized breathing that you had startled him awake, but he said nothing as you settled underneath his chin and buried your face into his collarbone.

“Nightmare?” he asked. Having just woken up, his voice was dramatically deep and grumbly, and the sound reverberated in your skull while he lazily ran a hand up and down your back.

“Not exactly. Just a really weird dream,” you explained with a heavy sigh.

Simon hummed in response as he adjusted his position where he pulled you so close it was as if he tried to crush you. “Wanna talk about it?”

You squeezed your eyes shut as images of your dream washed over you. Crystal clear waters, beady eyed seagulls, Adakskin’s wife; it was all so strange. Not inherently scary, although not entirely welcomed either.

“I was sitting in the ocean,” you recalled, voice cracking from sleep. “It was really calm, it felt more like a lake than anything else. I think it was supposed to be Salthouse, but I don’t know. There were some vanishing seagulls, and the lady with Adakskin and Bukin was there too. We were talking about something… can’t remember what. I think the water started rising, and I thought I was going to drown, and then I woke up.”

Things grew quiet as both you and Simon contemplated your strange dream, and you nearly fell asleep again from listening to his slow and even breathing. Before you were able to drift back into slumberland, you stretched your arms and legs out with a small groan. Grunting, Simon attempted to keep you close to him by pulling you against his chest again, which only made you giggle.

“No drowning on my watch,” he mumbled as he nuzzled his nose into the side of your neck.

While you laughed and playfully attempted to push Simon away, you felt something paw at your leg before you heard a tiny huff and an annoyed meow. Wiggling as best as you could in Simon’s grasp, you looked over your shoulder just in time to watch Simon’s hand swallow Boo’s head and began to shake him around.

“Don’t use that tone with me,” he teased while the poor cat swatted at his arm.

“Leave the baby alone,” you whined. Struggling, you turned around so that your back was against Simon’s chest, and you swallowed Boo up in your arms and held him close to your stomach. “He’s just hungry.”

Once more the creature meowed, this time more in frustration than anything else. Refusing to leave him alone, Simon reached around you and grabbed his skull and shook him some more, forcing you to slide out of the bed in order to save the poor thing. As you held Boo against you, cradling him like an infant, you playfully glared down at Simon who was having a difficult time smothering the grin on his lips.

“I’m going to go feed the child. Come join us when you decide you’re done being a criminal,” you teased before exiting the bedroom.

Things had gotten more colorful since you moved. What little sunshine bled through the curtains in the living room seemed warmer than they used to be with that glowing, golden tint. Instead of stained, white walls you were surrounded by a comforting tan. The wood floor was brand new, and the balcony housed two chairs and a table for the nights when you and Simon were too restless to get any proper sleep. It was the closest thing to a home you had managed to build in your entire life; a new place free from the stains and echoing voices of the past.

You enjoyed every moment of it. Every single crunch of Boo munching away at his food bowl, the way you could hear quiet music from your downstairs neighbor playing through the open window in the living room, all of it. You were able to look around and actually see things. Not just exist while everything else continued on around you.

“Shit,” Simon muttered.

Pulling yourself out of your cheery daze, your eyes flickered away from your hungry friend and over to Simon, who stood in front of the fridge with the door open. His hair was mussed from sleep still, and he hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt, leaving every inch of his torso exposed. It had been almost two years since he had been captured by Bukin, and his body was able to fully heal from the effects, save for an even more crooked nose and a scar on his left arm.

“Outta milk,” he said in response to your questioning gaze. With a sigh, he closed the door to the fridge before reaching his arm up to rub at the back of his neck. “Suppose we could always have fried cat for breakfast.”

“Simon,” you chastised while rolling your eyes. “You boys, I swear. Why don’t we head to the market instead?”

He hummed. “Right. Doubt there’s enough meat on his scrawny ass anyway.”

After settling whatever beef was going on between your boyfriend and your cat, the two of you hopped in the shower for a quick wash before getting ready to head out. It was a lazy Saturday morning, and in the midst of summer, you decided to don a skirt for the warm weather. Nothing super fancy, just something short enough to keep fabric off of your skin and still plenty long enough that you wouldn’t become indecent from a simple gust of wind. Besides, the stark difference between you in your cute summer outfit and Simon in simple jeans, a cotton t-shirt, and a mask always made you giggle.

It was a short walk to the market from the apartment. The midmorning sun was unforgiving in the way it beat down on any pedestrian unfortunate enough to find themselves walking on the pavement, and you couldn’t have been more grateful for your choice in attire. Despite the heat, your fingers interlaced with Simon’s as you walked, and the two of you chose to ignore whatever sweat built up between your hands as you enjoyed the scenery on the walk. Fragrant flowers decorated window sills with vibrant pinks, oranges, and whites, and there was something oddly satisfying about the lively green leaves that offered sparse coverage overhead.

Things cooled off a little once you and Simon reached the market, though not by much. You meandered throughout the store, traversing up and down aisles while Simon followed close behind you with a small hand basket. Any sort of snacks or necessity that caught your eye were tossed into the basket, and each time you picked something up, you’d hold it out towards Simon with a sly grin before making a cheeky comment.

“This’ll keep your hunger satiated, right? So you won’t eat the cat?”

It didn’t take long to gather all the necessary items, and eventually you began to weave your way up towards the front of the store to check out. Plenty of other customers clogged the lines, all trying to get their shopping done on their day off from work, which left you and Simon standing towards the back, surveying the lines and attempting to figure out which one you would be able to get through fastest.

“Lane three only has two people,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, but their trollies are full,” Simon countered. “Lane one has three people, but they’ve only got a handful of items.”

Well, you didn’t need any more convincing than that. Just as you were about to step forward, a trolly narrowly missed bumping into you. You jumped backwards in slight surprise as the man pushing the cart quickly apologized as he took a step back as well. In the middle of you telling him it was no big deal, someone else quickly caught your attention. The woman who accompanied him was just as beautiful as she had been a few winters back with her curled blonde hair and dazzling smile. Your eyes were immediately drawn to her, or perhaps more so to the child she held against her hip.

“Ness!” you exclaimed.

The woman’s eyes lit up when she recognized you and she quickly squeezed her way around the man so that she wasn’t blocking the aisle. Her child looked up at you with big eyes and an equally big smile. There was something just so innocent about his expression, and maybe something a little shy as well.

“Oh my goodness… look at you!” you cooed to the baby. “Is he yours?”

Ness bounced the baby higher up on her hip before glancing over at the man who still had his hands on the trolly. He was a kind looking man with a full face and an awkward smile. His eyes flickered back and forth between you and your friend, though his features seemed to grow less uncomfortable when he looked at Ness.

“Ours, yes,” she answered before turning her attention back to you.

A lengthy conversation erupted after that, and Simon slightly tuned everything out as he watched the lines ebb and flow with customers. Really, he was glad that you had ran into Ness again. It had been over a year since you had quit (or, more like lost) your job, and since then a majority of your time had been spent back at the apartment. Of course he was always there to talk with you as much as he could between missions, but he worried you were lacking other human connection.

He brought his attention back to you when he heard the baby start to giggle. It was shrill and high pitched, and he reached out for you with tiny, grabbing fingers as if asking to be held by you. Deciding to give in to his wishes, Ness held the child out, and Simon watched as you carefully scooped him into your arms, clearly avoiding too much weight being put on your left arm. He tried not to focus too much on how perfectly the child fit against your side, or how natural it all looked. But it didn’t take long for the kid to try and cause trouble; namely, pulling at your earlobe as if he hoped it would come off.

“Well, hello to you, too,” you chuckled as you gently bounced him. “What’s his name?”

“Joseph,” Ness answered with a smile, “but we usually call him Joey. Isn’t that right? Because you’re always bouncing all over the place like a little kangaroo, huh?”

“Awe,” you cooed as you turned your full attention to the child in your arms. “Little Joseph…”

Everything suddenly grew quiet for Simon. There was no beeping from the cash registers, or idle chatter between customers and workers. There was just you and that baby, and the way you cooed a name that had long been lost on his ears. You were glowing, utterly illuminated even in the harsh light of the store, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you looked up at him. Radiant. Perfect. Everything he had ever wanted.

Then the baby looked at him. Joseph. Joseph. So young and sweet, yet he cowered away from Simon and hid his face into your shoulder. It was the gentle sound of your laughter that brought him back into the moment, and when he tried to breathe he realized his chest burned like his heart had been replaced with searing embers.

“Don’t worry, that’s just Simon,” you coddled. “He looks scary, but don’t worry, the mask is doing us a favor. He’s really, really ugly.”

As if understanding you, Joseph dared another glance at Simon, just to quickly look away once more. It all felt so silly and familiar in a way that hurt, but it burned for only a short while before you handed Joseph back to his mother and exchanged farewells with your friend. Just like that, everything was back to normal. It was just him and you again as your items were scanned in line. Just you and him carrying bags of groceries back to your shared apartment. You and him, and no one else.

Boo had fallen asleep by the time you and Simon arrived home. He sat curled up in the corner of the couch where he rested a paw over his face to block the sunlight seeping in through the large glass doors that led out to the balcony. Neither you nor Simon paid him much mind as the two of you quickly went to work at putting away the groceries.

After spending a good amount of time in physical therapy, lifting your left arm up above your head became easier, although still difficult. Because of this, Simon made sure to take any items that required being put into the overhead cupboards so that you wouldn’t have to struggle with it, while you dealt with everything that needed to be stored in the fridge.

Once the groceries were nearly put away, you gasped something sudden and sharp. Simon ceased his movements and turned his attention to you, worried you had hurt yourself, but when he tried to ask what was wrong you quickly shushed him. Lines formed on the skin of your face as you concentrated; what it was, Simon wasn’t sure. Then you started humming. It was a melody he didn’t recognize, but he watched you nearly bounce up and down as you pointed towards the ajar window in the living room.

“Our neighbor has good taste in music. Fuck, it’s been forever since I’ve listened to this song,” you explained.

Whatever Simon was going to say in response to you vanished somewhere in the depths of his chest the moment he saw you begin to sway. Gently dancing across the kitchen floor, you reached your arms out for him until your hands brushed against his shoulders, pulling him into your movements.

And then you started to sing.

“I’ll be your morning bright, goodnight, shadow machine. I’ll be your record player baby if you know what I mean. I’ll be your real tough cookie with the whiskey breath. I’ll be a killer and a thriller and the cause of our death.”

During your little performance, your arms had completely wrapped around his neck where you held him as close as you could manage. He returned the gesture in kind by placing his hands on your waist, and he leaned forward until your foreheads were touching. The two of you continued to gently sway and rotate like that as the faint music played in the background.

Until it all began to fade away. The music, the sunlight that streamed through the windows, the groceries; all of it. All that was left was just you and Simon. The skin of your arms against his neck, your breath tickling his chin, your warmth radiating through your clothes and into the palms of his hands. He didn’t know how he ever survived you being gone. Your body had become so ingrained into his that it was like you had always been there, lurking underneath his skin, whispering words into his ear. In some strange way, you had always been a part of him.

“Good seein’ you like this again,” he said, soft enough that you could still hear the end of the song play through the window.

“You like looking at me an inch away from my face?” you asked, though the teasing tone wasn’t lost on Simon.

“I like seein’ you happy,” he corrected.

Something about the way he worded it made your stomach feel strange. It was a fizzy and bubbling emotion that had your chest expanding so much that it nearly hurt. Happy. It was weird how things had a tendency of sneaking up on you. You had gotten used to such brutal, sudden, and violent changes that you forgot that sometimes things came slowly. Sometimes they were slow growing vines entangling your legs, wrapping around your body and encasing you in so much love and life that it was like the rot had never been there to begin with.

Your hands slowly slid up from the back of his neck until you had a good hold of his jaw where you carefully moved your faces apart. Nothing but love hid behind Simon’s eyes, and his expression was more calm and relaxed than you had seen him for quite some time. Day after day you got to wake up next to him, got to see those eyes that looked at you with such adoration. Simon Riley was proof that there was good in the world.

“You make me happy,” you said, eyes refusing to look away from him.

Everything fell into place after that. The gentle rubbing of your thumb along his jawline, the way he pulled you closer to him, how he nuzzled his nose against yours; it was only natural that your lips would collide next. The taste of Simon’s lips had become so familiar to you that they didn’t even have an easily describable flavor anymore. He tasted like late nights and sweet words, like home. You wanted to drown in it, to dive in and never come back up, so you pulled him as close as you could manage until you were sure you’d suffocate.

Right when you thought Simon would pull back, attempt to cool things down some and get some air, your lower back came in contact with the counter where you were pinned there by his hips. You realized just how long it had been since you had last touched one another like that, with so much heated and tender passion that you had no choice but to giggle into his mouth while he continued to kiss you. His hand cradled the back of your head, preventing your skull from bumping into the cupboards behind you due to the intensity of his lips on yours.

“I missed this,” you mumbled against his lips. Your hands trailed along his chest, dipping from his collarbones all the way down to his stomach until your fingers were hooked in the belt loops of his jeans. “Being with you. Being able to do this.”

Simon hummed into your mouth as his free hand drifted down your body, sliding over your hips, down your thighs, then trailing back up and bunching the fabric of your skirt in the process before letting it fall back into place as he rested at your waist. A sudden burning ardor buzzed between your legs just from his hands alone, and you found your hips involuntarily bucking as if begging for his touch.

You captured his wandering hand in yours like a cat catching a mouse and slowly began to push his hand lower. So many emotions had been locked away, snuffed out by the terror and anxiety that plagued you for so long, that your want for him was painful. It was a type of desire that only Simon could satiate, and you needed it so much you nearly trembled.

“Please,” you begged as his fingertips brushed down your pelvis.

It didn’t take much for him to give in to your desire, and his hand dipped under the swaying fabric of your skirt as he caressed your inner thigh. Already soft and pliable for him, it took little prompting before you slowly spread your legs as well as you could while standing. When his hand palmed you through your panties you swore you would sob. Starving, you swayed your hips more, attempting to chase the friction, and he huffed loudly as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he murmured as he fumbled with the fabric blocking him from you. “Are… are you sure sweetheart?”

Even after all that time Simon would never once assume that you just wanted him. Always had to hear it from you, from your lips, had to hear you say that you needed him. So your hands quickly slipped up to his face, holding him by the sides of his head as you gently pulled his forehead from yours, making him look at you.

“Simon, baby,” you pleaded as you still attempted to grind against his hand, “I need you to fuck me.”

His eyes scanned your face for a moment, almost as if he didn’t believe you, but the moment you felt him melt in your grasp was the moment all hesitation left him. With a strong grip on the back of your head, his lips crashed against yours once more just as he slipped a finger inside of your aching cunt. It was shallow and playful, and yet you clenched around him all the same until he added another finger and shoved himself deeper. Your hands were no longer cupping his face at that point but instead grabbing onto the back of his neck for dear life. The wet muscle of his tongue slipped past your lips just as he began to lazily pump his fingers into you, and he grunted as if he fucked you with more than just his hand.

He kept you pinned against the counter as he worked at you, stretching out the tight ring of your pussy that seared so sublimely. Each moan you attempted to let fall from your lips were quickly licked away by Simon as his kisses became messier. He didn’t relent until the slick from your cunt drooled down his fingers to his wrist. He pulled out, and you nearly whined at him until a jolt buzzed throughout your legs as his fingers instead massaged your clit in rapid circles, going so fast your brain felt detached from your body.

“Hold on tight, yeah?” he ordered, almost as breathless as you.

As if you couldn’t hold onto the back of his neck any tighter, you nodded your head and braced your arms. Simon stopped his relentless stimulation of your clit and moved both of his hands to your thighs where he pulled you away from the counter before hoisting you into his arms. You giggled something sweet and breathless as you wrapped your legs around his waist and buried your face into his neck. The wetness of your arousal smeared across your thigh as Simon’s still wet hand braced your legs so that you wouldn’t fall, but you ignored the feeling as you peppered kisses along his neck while he wandered off towards the bedroom.

Usually when you and Simon had sex, you always had to prompt or remind him to remove some of his own clothing, and not just your own. Always too eager to please you that he never stopped to think about himself much. That time, however, was different. As soon as he set you on the edge of the bed, he slipped his shirt off of his body so quickly the fabric nearly tore. There was this primal and untamed need unfolding between the two of you. This feral need to be consumed, to feel the heat from his skin bleed into yours, was overwhelming.

Once both of your clothing had been removed, Simon was on top of you like a starved dog. Normally the two of you took things slow, passionate, but still slow. You’d toy with one another until you couldn’t take it anymore, but this was different. This had been months of desire that had been too muted by anguish to fully surface; so much backed up emotion that had nowhere else to go but out.

Simon’s teeth grazed against your skin as if tempted to eat you alive and instead settled for sucking on one of your hardened nipples. Your back arched in an attempt to press more of yourself against him, needing to be closer to him; unable to take the waiting any longer. By the time his lips returned to yours, you felt the hot tip of his cock press against your entrance. The stretch of him had almost grown to be unfamiliar after such a long period of abstinence, but he took things slow as he pressed forward inch by agonizing inch.

When he bottomed out, he stayed there for a while as he did nothing but grind against the rubbery tissue of your cervix, and there was a dull sting there as you adjusted to the sheer girth of him. He didn’t start moving until you groaned and began to rock your hips against his, making him grind deeper into you. So he pulled out and shoved himself back inside of you, stealing away any thoughts in your mind or words on the tip of your tongue.

Each thrust pulled out a string of mindless curses and praises from your lips as the tips of your fingers dug into his sides. There was something cleansing about it all. It was raw, needy, and intrinsic; some sort of necessity that you didn’t know how you ever lived without. Every jolt against your fluttering walls felt like being reborn, every rub of his thumb against your clit unsullied you. The raging heat that built up in your stomach scorched away any rot remaining inside of you, leaving nothing but smoldering embers in its wake. Your orgasm washed over you like an ocean wave, scrubbing you clean of all the filth that clung to your body and soul, and by the time Simon emptied himself in you, it was like no one had ever stained you to begin with.

Simon toppled to the side where his body crashed onto the bed next to you and his arms enveloped you into his side as if welcoming you home. The two of you laid there for quite some times as both orgasms and panting waned, enjoying the sticky heat of one another in a way that you hadn’t for what felt like an eternity. Even then you couldn’t get enough of him. Not the way you curled perfectly into his side, or the way his heart thudded in his chest underneath your head. It was something you’d never get tired of feeling.

“Your heart’s still beating hard,” you noticed as you ran a finger up his chest.

“Out of shape,” he excused while he gave you a firm squeeze.

“Yeah right, Mr. I-Go-To-The-Gym-Four-Days-A-Week,” you teased.

“Cardio’s different.”

“Fucking is cardio?”

“Mhm.”

Things fell quiet after that. There was nothing but the sound of your own breathing and Simon’s heart still thudding painfully fast. You tapped your finger on his chest in time with his heartbeat, hardly realizing how quickly it seemed to settle underneath your touch as if you had commanded it to. Everything was still, and a slight rumble reverberated in Simon’s chest as he began to lightly snore. Smiling to yourself, you nuzzled closer into his side as you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to take back the rest that had been stolen from you that morning.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

When Simon woke up the bed was empty and it was no longer light outside. He was still naked, but the blanket had been pulled over his body as if someone was worried he would get cold. Sweat soaked sheets clung to his back as he sat up, muscles aching and protesting the movement, and he shivered at the sensation. Still groggy, he stumbled in the dark over to the dresser before finding a myriad of mismatching yet still comfortable clothes to change into.

Not bothering to fix up anything else about his appearance, he exited the bedroom to find you cooking in the kitchen. One of his shirts adorned your torso as you lazily mixed away at the food you had cooking in the pan, producing an aroma that had Boo impatiently sitting by your feet with a flicking tail. He stood there in silence and watched you for some time, and that unfamiliar and heavy pounding in his chest began to plague him once more. The floorboard settled underneath his feet as he eventually meandered his way next to you, and you looked over your shoulder with a small grin.

“About time you woke up,” you teased. “Dinner’s almost ready if you want to grab a few plates.”

He gave you nothing in response but a simple nod of his head before he searched through the cupboards. Having given up on trying to convince you, Boo attempted to paw at Simon’s leg to ask for some of whatever you cooked, but he ignored the poor critter as he set the plates on the counter next to you. Soon enough you had the food dished and the two of you sat at the small dining room table with a very vocal transgressor weaving around underneath the table. You chuckled and cooed quietly at your poor, suffering cat before giving him a bit of food in a peace offering, one that he sniffed before promptly vanishing to cause chaos somewhere else in the house.

You turned your attention to Simon who sat on the other side of the table from you. You were a little surprised that he didn’t have anything to say about Boo turning away from the food, as he had been harassing the poor thing all day. Despite your close proximity, his eyes looked anywhere but you as he ate. Smaller bites than usual, you noticed. And though silence wasn’t odd coming from him, this sort of quietness felt odd.

“I’m thinking about starting job hunting,” you said, trying to get a conversation started. “Things have been going well with counseling and all that, and my therapist thinks it’s a good move for me. I’ll try to stay far away from financials this time though.”

It was as if he hadn’t realized you had spoken to him. Eyes still glassy, he turned his attention to you after a beat and finished swallowing his food before nodding. He then turned his attention back down to his plate as he worked on shoveling more food into his mouth.

“Yeah. That’ll be good,” he said curtly.

You bit the inside of your lip at his answer and you felt your legs start to bounce in anticipation. Something was wrong. Incredibly so. Usually things were the other way around. You were supposed to be the one awkwardly avoiding gazes and giving short answers. Though Simon wasn’t exactly one to talk your ear off, he was a phenomenal communicator and always had been.

So what changed?

“Simon?”

Finally, his eyes landed on you. The warm and dark hue of his eyes bore into you as if analyzing your features and burning them into his memory as if he would never look at you again. You attempted a small smile, but it looked more worried than anything else. Still, you found your left hand reaching out for him, and despite his sudden coldness he took it into his without hesitation.

“Everything alright?” you asked.

Once more he nodded, but this time gave your hand a firm squeeze in the process. “Right as rain.”

There wasn’t any hint of untruthfulness in his voice, and yet his gaze still tore away from you once again in favor of looking down at your hand. In a childish sort of curiosity, he placed his fork down and held your hand with both of his before prodding at the tips of your fingers. The feeling of it took you back to that night nearly two years ago when both you and Simon had been laying in bed. You had just been released from the hospital, and the doctor had ordered him to watch the blood flow in your arm. He spent half the night poking at your fingers just to watch the color ebb and flow in your nail beds.

“Ischemia,” you said with a slight wiggle of your fingers.

“Ischemia,” Simon repeated.

Dinner long forgotten, he continued with his assessment of your hand, and though you were still a little worried, you sat there and studied him in silence. Something swirled in his mind. You could see it in the tension in his lips and the lines settling on his forehead. In one last effort to pull out the ideas clouding his thoughts, you leaned forward and tilted your head to the side.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I want to marry you.”

Both of you fell still. Every muscle in your body tensed but also turned into liquid in some sort of terrible state of existence, like you were ready to jump out of the chair and phase right through it at the same time. Simon's eyes were finally on you again. He said those words like they were still supposed to be chained up. Hidden away behind lock and key in his throat. Instead they were out in the open and bouncing around in your skull on repeat.

“What?” you breathed, unsure if you had even heard him correctly.

Simon’s hands gripped yours as he carefully slipped out of his seat and onto the floor next to you. Every molecule of air ripped out of your lungs at that moment, and your free hand covered your mouth in disbelief. You wanted to speak up, to ask him what he was doing as if you didn’t already know the answer, and yet it was like sand had clogged your throat. All you could do was sit there in your chair as he got on his knees on the floor next to you.

“I want to marry you,” he repeated with more confidence. “I’ve wanted to for a while. Just never felt like a good time. But I’m tired of pretendin’ like I don’t need you. You’re everything to me and I don’t wanna go a day without you.”

Tears started to flow down your cheeks by that point and you kept your hand clasped tightly over your mouth in fear of the sob that you might let out if you didn’t. He laughed, not at you but at himself, and the tense smile that accompanied it nearly made you melt.

“Fuck, I… I don’t have a ring, or a plan really. All I know is that I don’t wanna go another day without being yours. Imagined we could figure out the rest later,” he continued while he gave your hand a firm squeeze. “It’s up to you, sweetheart.”

Your arms were around his neck before you were able to choke out your answer, and you nearly caused the man to topple over. His hands wrapped around you to keep things steady while you shamelessly sobbed into the crook of his neck. Hot, fat tears soaked the fabric of his shirt while you blubbered your answer over and over:

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes…”

Nothing would make your scars fade. Nightmares would always be around to haunt you in some capacity no matter how much time had passed since you escaped that basement. But you had a new home where blood didn’t stain the floor, and the walls were pristine in shape and color. You would never be able to outrun the past, and you wouldn’t be able to obtain the life your mother always wished you had, but all she ever really wanted was for you to find someone that would take care of you.

The world was cruel and had rarely treated you with kindness. And still, despite everything, it had given you Simon Riley, and you knew that you would cherish him for the rest of your life.

hi (: just dropping by real quick to say that if you guys plan on leaving asks concerning soft spot to please read this post here before you do! thanks

tags: @ghostlythots @archonsabyss @crowbird @beware-my-thorns @koko-1025 @nessaasstuff @escapefromrealitysm @babygirl-riley @theloneshadow24 @ashableketchup @violet-19999 @paigetaylor628 @curlygirls-world @gaebestie @datlilwrench @ryisghost @suffering-and-happy-about-it @achelois-is-here @spookyscaryspoon @vampykween @tapioca-milktea1978 @perfectus-in-morte @comeonatmebruh

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soft spot #ghost smut #simon riley smut #f!reader

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alpydk · 16 days

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@littlelostmabari - Some Angst and comfort as requested. Hurt? I'm not so sure, but then my standards for hurt are very high.

1849 words - Enjoy ^^

youtube

Gale watched as she danced, her feet light on the shadow kissed sand, a smile he so rarely saw brightening up the campsite as if she were the flames of the fire itself. Sitting in the confines of his tent, his eyes had been drawn to her repeatedly as the evening had progressed, nerves building within him as he’d made his plans to tell her the truth.

Notes of the spells needed to conjure the stars for her lay dotted on parchment around his bedroll. Various poems had been scribbled and then crossed out, the idea of wooing her in such a way appearing too desperate even for him to bring them to light. All he wanted was to explain how he felt about her before the end came, an end that he knew was finally near.

The orb in his chest gave a gentle thrum as she spun, her dark hair whipping around her as if it were the Weave itself called into being. His eyes met hers briefly, and he hoped she wouldn’t see the pitiful yearning in his gaze, see the lovesick puppy that would apologise should his feelings somehow break free from his lips. Her fingers gently entwined with that of her dance partner, and he wished for a moment that he had found the courage to step up and court her in such a way.

But there were no dances for Gale, there never would be, no fingers delicately entwined with his, no Weave carried locks he could run his hands through. For him, there was only a cruel fate, a sentence that he rightly deserved. Love was not a consequence after what he had done.

Her eyes focussed on the man before her as they knelt, and Gale found he could no longer watch the spectacle taking place. It was one thing to see her dance, to imagine standing in his tower of Waterdeep, her body clutched tightly to his as they swayed with a quiet melody from the piano; it was another to see her give herself to someone he considered a friend, to imagine her wine-tinged lips upon his own. In the darkness of his tent, he bowed his head, a deep ache in his chest emerging, one that he was unsure was the orb or heartbreak.

---

Morning arrived, but the Shadowlands had no sunrise to greet them, not that Gale would have noticed as dark clouds obscured his sight. To him, all was grey, shadows or not, and the feeling went far deeper within him than he wished. He struggled to find the words as Tav made her daily rounds, checking that everyone was ready for the battles ahead. On some minute level, he’d thought he'd stood a chance, that maybe in some realm she would have chosen him. Now, though, all he felt was embarrassment that he could have possibly been so naïve and stupid as to think such a thing.

“Toril to Gale.”

Her voice drew him from his thoughts, soft with the lilt of the northern accent he wished he could spend the rest of his days listening to and memorising. “Ah… Tav, my dear. Apologies, it appears you’ve caught me at a rather inopportune moment. Just shaking off some sleep.”

She smiled at him as she always did, her eyes warm and comforting, her hair hanging loosely over her soft cheeks. “Get something warm in you, you’ll be right as rain before you know it.”

It took all his power not to reach out and brush her hair aside, to feel her skin beneath his fingertips as he’d been dreaming of for so many nights, to just touch her.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay today? You seem a little distant?”

“My dear…” To say my love would have been so easy, a quick slip of the tongue as his eyes fell on her longed-for lips. “…Truly, I am quite alright. In but a short while, I will be back to my regular long-winded philosophies of the Weave, and you will yearn for the distance once again.” The distance would certainly make things easier, he felt.

The day passed in a whirlwind of battles, shadows, and death, and as they made camp at Moonrise Tower, Gale secluded himself under the covers of his tent once again. He’d barely spoken as the day had progressed, too lost in contemplation and waning self esteem to be fully present in all that was going on. Tav had subtly checked on him, and he’d responded as he always did by offering her any assistance, but his heart had remained closed to her, as cracked and worthless as it always was.

Summoning a long dreamt for valley, forests and crisp grass, enchanted stars around him, he accepted what was soon to happen. He could feel it deep down, as if Mystra were whispering to him once again, calling out to him to tell him it was time. The twinkling stars reminded him of home, of nights of Simril where he had searched for his own star, and he wondered if he would join them in the days to come. He hoped he would. The night was fantasised in the image he wished his afterlife to be like: the most beautiful of fantasies.

The crunch of grass behind him almost made the illusion falter, his eyes focussing on the swirling aurora above him. He knew who was approaching. He’d listened to their footsteps so many times before at night when he’d been unable to sleep, his nerves burning and sweat beading on his brow, and too many nights those footsteps had resulted in her at his side with a magic artefact or simply a comforting embrace.

Tav sat down beside him, close as always, as if physical contact were something she could not go without for too long. Placing her head on his shoulder, she sighed. “So… Are you going to talk to me or are we going to keep doing this little dance?”

“Well, you are quite the dab at dancing.” Gale’s words were curter that he’d wished, a slither of hurt emerging against his will.

“Ah… That’s what this is about.”

She lifted her head, shuffling away from him ever so slightly, and Gale couldn’t help but feel the icy chill that now passed over his body. He wanted to correct her, inform her that what happened amongst their party was none of his business, but the words would not come to him.

“Gale… Me and Wyll…” Tav wanted to find a way explain it all, but it was proving difficult. “It’s complicated.”

“Matters of the heart normally are, but surely you must know.”

“You’re putting me on the spot as to whether, after a few short months, I wish to be with him, love him even?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” The answer was needed if he were to go through with his actions come their battle tomorrow. To leave with doubts, even the smallest chance of her love; he couldn’t do it.

Shaking her head, Tav rose to her feet. “I’m not discussing this, Gale.”

Her tone suggested she was annoyed, and he could not figure out why. He had merely wished for clarification, to know for sure where he stood. “You would leave without answering such a question? If it is my feelings you hope to spare, worry not, for come tomorrow the pain will be but a glimmer in the night sky.”

She scoffed at his words. “Of all the things you could say… Do you not realise how much your words can hurt sometimes?”

Everything was happening so quickly. How had he messed this all up so fast? As she departed towards the treeline, he observed her lifting her hand to her face, as though trying to wipe away something. He hoped it was only hair. He couldn’t be the one to have made her cry, to have hurt Tav, whom he loved so deeply.

A broken whimper emerged from his lips as he stood and reached out to her. Fearful words spoken that on so many pained nights he had not needed to say, as she had wrapped a caring arm around him. “Please, Tav. Don’t leave me. Not now.”

Halting in her tracks, she lowered her head, her shoulders tense in the situation she was struggling to remain calm in. “Give me one good reason to stay.”

Gale’s mind was awhirl with what to say, so many expressions of love to her and yet he knew doing so would potentially ruin everything between them. That she would reject him, leaving him willing to detonate the orb without question, or worse, accept him leaving him with something to live for. “I…” The words stuck in his throat, his hand lowering, the precipice he teetered upon calling out to him.

The rising sound of her voice broke with the emotions she tried to fight back, her hand again going to her face to hide how she felt. “Why Gale? Why should I stay?”

It was now or never. To leap from that precipice, to die with no regrets, knowing he had revealed his heart to her. “Because I love you!” He exclaimed desperately, his words stated so firmly, so without doubt. But with them came the creeping acceptance, the knowledge that it was all out in the open and could not be taken back. “I love you…” He repeated quietly, more unsure that he had chosen the right path.

“It was only a dance…”

He didn’t quite understand what she had uttered until she turned around and he saw the tear-streaked cheeks and wisps of dark hair that covered her face.

“Me and Wyll simply danced. He may have fallen for me, but my heart was long ago given to another.”

Gale dared not hope that the other was him. It couldn’t be, not with who he was, not the man with the sword hanging above his head threatening to drop at any moment. As she stepped towards him, his heartbeat quickened. It couldn’t be him, shouldn’t be him, he who would be hurting her again so soon. He averted his gaze in the hopes she would vanish. That this would all have just been some cruel dream, an illusion of what-ifs as the power of the orb overtook him and his body became stardust in the night sky.

A warm palm cupped his cheek, one that he leant into without hesitation. Tav lifted his head ever so slightly, bringing him into her view, and with a tearful smile, she kissed him gently. “I love you, Gale. You, and only you,” she whispered, her lips staying brushed upon his, their warm breath merging between them.

There was no want or need to rush ahead from either of them, no desperation or fiery passion. There was only the comfort as they had found one another, their bodies held together under conjured stars, a dance of hands through weave carried locks, and the distant quiet melody of a piano playing just for them.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #bg3 fanfiction #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale bg3 #galemance #i love damocles references #also this has comfort!#sort of!#Youtube

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oncewhenalongtimeago · 3 months

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Just Like Magic

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Female!Reader

Words: 3,610

Hiccup’s got both hands full with dragon training, nevermind everything else he’s got going on in private, because, really, it’s not just the dragon.

Hiccup’s got no one at his back- no friends, no Dad and a dead mother. He has got Gobber on most occasions, though if you asked Hiccup, he’d say that he doesn’t really count, mostly because he’s not much of a help even on the best of days.

There is that one girl, though, with her odd appreciation for the world, colorful hems, twine and tassels- To him, she’s something new. Whenever he’s with her, it feels like things just might be turning up. Honestly, she might be exactly the kind of person he’s been looking for.

(By some stroke of fate and probably coincidence, Hiccup makes friends with a weird girl in the woods and learns that life doesn’t have to be about fighting or proving oneself- sometimes it’s nothing more than a few stolen, happy moments shared between a lucky girl and a very unlucky guy.)

Tags: Witch!reader, optimistic/cheery reader, female reader, httyd 1, edited

- Next>

Grass tickled the bottoms of your clothed feet, your boots discarded to the side as you’d done your best to mosey up peeling, scratchy, hurtful bark. It crackled and broke off as you’d applied pressure to it, cutting into your skin through you-sized, harried trousers as you managed to throw one knee over the top of an upturned log.

You scrambled for the most stable spot along the cut edge of a flat, good-enough-for-seating place propped up right under you.

Once you’d managed to get onto your knees, you began the careful work of turning yourself around inch by inch, moving your folded lower legs by just one small amount at a time until you were pleased again.

You stared down at a small canvas, a piece of old rag you’d sewn weakly to an uneven wooden frame, the soreness of your fingers something you could recall as if your fingers were still just-raw and not dull-raw.

Reaching with shaky, shaky hands, the wood piece below you wobbling with your wobbles, you felt cool, cool metal with small hands.

They were a normal size to you, but your hand were ones which the people around you found tiny despite your disagreements, tall as they were, as lofty as doorways and then some, with shoulders large and wide as their furs were musky, their hands and bodies full enough to reach the tops of worn-smooth-oil-sanded tables.

The sun came warmly down over your shoulders, prickling the tiny hairs there above and under hot cloth, reflecting light off of paste, a tame blue color, wholly saturated yet soft enough to not be tiring to your eyes, all encased in a small, metal tin.

It was made of leaves ground to liquid- rare as you’d been told and worth money, not that you knew the berth and measure of whatever money they had been talking about. You could only treasure the color for its own merits.

Things like worth and distance- you still had a terrible time coming to fathom what it meant to be ‘far, far away,’ not in the sense that you couldn’t imagine a world in another place. It was moreso that you hadn’t anything to fill the spaces between, your lack of experience doing you wonders in that it had then become your job to figure out what ‘journey’ meant to you and what it should mean to have to travel over many lands for small boon.

The seas rushed in front of you below the cliffs, kicking up a loud and fanciful spray, as if dancing with linked arms, scuffing hard boots against loose, dusty floor on a cool night by a roaring pit of flame. It was filled with joy, gleeful and fresh in celebration of life, wide, vast and light, calm and blue, yet no less passionate than any storm with clouds nearly dark as the invisible sky, thick and angry, with a sea so black a hand could not be seen submerged, currents crashing and roiling below it.

You stared down at the blue tin curiously, your only color, then traced your eyes over a wooden bowl with a shallow layer of clear water near its bottom.

Your sleeves were spotted wet still, since earlier you’d jolted the bowl in a way which splashed.

You touched the side of the wooden bowl with one shaky finger, listening as the wood clacked against the back of the carefully positioned canvas stand, borrowed politely from tall Mulch and an even more mountainous, addled Bucket.

You thought you might paint the sun and the sky, though you’d quickly realized with chagrin that your blue was your only color, perfect for the sea and the sky and yet not so fitting when it came down to much else.

More often than not, the sun was a shining white. However, you did know there was more beneath its surface. Yellow was the color that followed you under closed lids after you'd started into it for too long, filling your vision with spots and there was an orangey-red that stained your vision when you kept your eyes open just the same. Sometimes there was a green, and less often, blue.

There were no more berries to squeeze from now, though, and though slightly put off, you were not so harried as to try and force a color when there was none, scouring the land for something new and workable when your blue was so lovely on its own.

You picked up a thin brush with clumsy fingers laid next to it, wrapped with twine very, very tightly around a wooden stick, thick enough to hold string and a small tuft of brushed sheep’s wool.

The wood was all splintered, small points sticking out everywhere, but you had found it and made it yours, and you found yourself hard pressed not to be proud of your choice.

For the wool, you’d gotten permission to take some nice bit off of a sheep with shears, which you’d watched Johannes do with pride, your fingers clutching onto wood fencing and your toes on their tips.

You had woven it tight to the body using twine in a way that had your fingers twinging and needing help from thicker hands, with many hard, rough spots and thick dustings of hair along the knuckles and back.

With careful hands over an uneven handle, you pressed your brush into the blue paste and lifted it with nary a wet, sudden pulling noise.

Very carefully, you pressed it against a beige-green rag, the wool bunching like the hem of a dress pooling along the floor. After, you were careful not to move it for a very long moment.

When you finally lifted your brush, the stiff muscles in your wrist loosening, there was a spatter left behind vaguely in the shape of the sun which made your mouth slip and half a pleased huff leave your lips, the effort you expended to hold the rest of it all in causing the sideways cut-log below you to wobble.

The dear sun shone across your canvas, past the casted shadow, once again reflecting off the wet of your paste.

As you dipped and dipped your brush curiously in the water of your small bowl, paint danced in thin, disappearing, transparent whisps, turning from blue to a careful sun white-red-yellow-orange in the light, nearly glowing.

Blinking, the smile over your mouth growing wider, at that moment, you felt an affection that was nearly overwhelming- it was as if you reflected the world back out from within yourself, thinking of the lovely sun, precious canvas and the swaying grasses all laid out before you, strands and fronds moving with the wind and whispering all the same noises in the same directions, as loud and quiet as the ripples of the nearly-still water in your bowl.

Even stronger was your wonder as the end of your clumsy wool brush met canvas and a veritable shine of color smeared across linen.

Following that, it was with dusty fervor that you had pulled your clumsy canvas up high against your pit, huffing as you trotted quickly above dirt and floor, moving in steps that were quick and hard enough to be jarring, accidental stomps sending solid-jerking jolts up your everything as you hit uneven ground.

Each landing was met by a noise that was almost voice and not breath, an expression of your startle, yet you were too pleased to be unhappy, even as you hobbled with a canvas too large for you to carry between two hands, pressed painfully into the place between your cloth-covered side and your arm. It was a scene carefully waited for, with small, finger-shaped imprints in the face as you tested it dry.

You were excited to show what a joyous thing had happened to you, sharing your knowledge with the small hope that it would work just as splendidly for the others as well, though you had a slight inkling that it just might not.

You had always been a special child, since you’d come to see and feel through warm furs and soft, warm, musty smells, listening to the light of the fire as if its secrets could be shared with you, crackling with a feeling in your insides that was sharp-sharp-sharper and fresher than anything your heavy, dusted head could think up on it’s own, your neck too weak to move it any.

You laughed, a young girl of fifteen winters, a canvas held tightly under your arm as it had been so many times before, feeling light and cool even as the noon sun lay heavy across the earth after a morning of painting.

It was a hobby you had spent time on occasionally since the first, when you were small and young, proud and curious with nothing but a blue paste and some heart.

You skittered down a large path, wide with no rails, fighting with your shoulders against the ever-present wind, the smell of salt and ocean thick against your nostrils, the thin ramp below hanging steadily above the sea.

In town, there was not as much of a need for your own paintings, especially since there was already someone who had taken up the job of portrait-making, who made your own art seem like a lesser craft. Still, though your practice was small, there was no shame in sharing it around.

Despite it all, it was something you’d spent time doing with joy, especially as your art had grown past the mindless, painted scribbles of a child and into the realm of ‘reasonably scribbled,’ experimental in terms of both lighting and setting.

The canvas under your arm was made up of yellow rays and empty, heavenly clearing- you’d not needed any subject besides what was in front of your eyes. Even in the smallest leaf, there was something beautiful, and yet somehow, for some reason, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something missing.

For such a clear afternoon day, the docks were surprisingly empty, though the person who you were looking for remained there just the same- you’d always seemed to be lucky in that way.

“Hello!” You stepped around the half-rotted intestines of a gutted fish laid across the floor, the beating of wood beneath your boots stilling as you paused and asked cheerily, “Inga! Off so soon?”

Across the way, by the very end of one branch of the docks, stood a woman with red hair who was soft, and though she looked tired, she had no wrinkles to be seen, her skin young, slightly pale and freckled.

She had a full chest and soft body, though you knew there lay some muscle underneath, unexercised as it was- she had come from the age group before yours, the one which had only just grown old enough to pass training and enter into full adulthood.

She was minding an empty set of barrels, a thick spool of rope carried over one arm, and a slightly dirtied old cloth of a murky color laying draped over the opposite shoulder.

Behind her, where every other space was empty, there was a boat, bobbing with its rope, tied to one of the logs holding up the harbor. It was a smaller thing, all thin wood, hastily made, shorter where most other ships were tall and barely affordable as it was- nothing that could handle the larger seas, though the homely waters around Berk wore it just fine.

There was a small draw connecting it to the docks, a ribbed pathway made up of old wood crate parts which you’d put together yourself when Inga had been more swollen than plain round.

You shifted your canvas in your arms as you waited so that its frame was pressed to your back, its painted face facing the far cliff face behind you, greens and yellows all pointed carefully out of view.

Straight wood dug slightly into your back past two layers of cloth, one tan and dry, more beige than gray as you found your eyes stinging slightly past the strong smell of fish and slight wood rot. The smell was magnified by the heat, coming from all the places where fishermen discarded into the ocean what waste they should give back to the earth and soil, and then some.

There were also the few old fish left behind by the morning crowd in barrels and among crates, the too-small ones and the ones at the bottom of the barrel that had either been left too long or ones that had been touched so much by the rabble they no longer looked healthy, all too soft and bruised, too bad to sell.

You noted slightly shabby smock and borrowed trousers, ones that had probably belonged to her husband- Truly, the fishing had been poor as of late, though it was with your full heart that you wished the couple prosper, even more so since they had taken a step back from fighting to care for more gentle things.

In the time it took for Inga to bend down and peer deeper into barrel, you took a look around, searching thoroughly yet without too much vigor

Your patience bore good fruit as, after a long moment of concern, slightly worried preoccupation and as late-received words ran past ears and into strained mind, Inga finally rose, her face going slightly lax.

She turned, then, and it was after that that you received a kind response, “Hello to you too, lass.”

Then, without waiting for a response, she yelt back towards the waters, “Love!”

You smiled as she turned her head, directing her attention to the ambiguous space to her side, eyes turning to her back, feeling the thick sun’s heat run over your cheeks and shoulders, playing with your straining arms.

Inga sighed very quickly, before calling in a slightly firmer tone, “Come, tall man, say something!”

You suppressed a quick laugh, one that yearned to follow the sudden uptake in noise, the sound of a rapid wood’s knocking following her shout.

“Hello!” Came a muffled voice, all wood-stuffed yet surely familiar, belonging to a man of the same age as Inga with black hair and a slightly soft, yet fully built form, thin in the way most men could only be when coin was scarce, food was the same and love was in plenty, filling the stomach in the way that it tended to do after giving one's own food to one’s most hungry treasured.

“Bo!” You wanted to clap with glee, bringing your canvas out from behind your back, resting it by your side, one hand hooked under the bottom as the leather soles of your feet shuffled against wood.

Bo grew quiet again a moment after, though if you listened really hard, you could hear the gentle thump of hammering and the messing of metal against metal, still slightly hurried and yet calming.

“He’ll be occupied for a while, I think,” Inga warned slightly, “So It’ll just be you and me for now.”

“That’s blush!” You beamed, before dipping your head sheepishly and looking up at Inga with appeasing eyes, “I’d love to chat- of course, If you don’t have trouble minding me for a while?”

“No, dear,” Inga shook her head, throwing her cloth down on the rim of one of her barrels, “I don’t mind at all- really, you’re the one doing the minding and henning, With your care, one might think you were the new mother, not me.”

“Oh, I’m sure Ase’d disagree,” You hummed, “Really, it does no one any good to be sailing on an empty stomach. I must ask, how does she fare?”

“I’ve not enough to hire a nurse yet, so her burdens are still many, though she’s hardy and I shouldn’t be gone for long.”

You spent a fraction of a moment thinking of the oceans and knowing for a fact the truth could only exist in a manner that was quite contrary- Fishing was an all-day event.

“She’s a strong woman,” You said sympathetically, speaking again. “And so are you, I think, though even a strong woman deserves rest in times of trouble.”

She rolled her eyes, voice stern with play and false grim, “Don’t start with me, small lady.”

“You’ve got to do well,” You hummed, continuing anyways, rolling both your eyes and head back slightly so you could look up at the sky, reconsidering, “The seas have got to do well for you.”

“By the by,” Inga looked at you curiously, then, “I would like to know- what’s brought you to me today?”

You smiled freely, “I came to wish you luck- and to show you something else just as nice.”

Inga shook her head fondly, “I’m glad- we always fare better when you do for some odd reason, you special girl.”

You smiled with something that was all lips and no teeth, though it split the sides of your face just the same.

“Well, let’s have it then.” Inga declared as there sounded a particularly hard, clumsy knock from the inside of the couple’s fishing barge.

You were careful to maneuver your canvas out from behind you, arms straining as you swung it around wide, before displaying it proudly, one hand on each side of the frame, paint facing Inga as you handed it to her, “Here it is!”

She held it by both sides with firm yet careful hands, a spool of rope slipping from one soft arm onto the dock floor below, something which neither of you paid much mind to.

“Why, it feels as if it’s moving on its own! What life!” Inga said, holding out her canvas. In her voice, you could tell that some of her astonishment was a nicety, but a lot of it was all genuine.

You knew she really ought to be pleased- past all the softness and that deceivingly fluffy exterior, that sly woman picked up on things very quickly. Any luck you could offer- Well, she surely couldn’t refuse.

“Oh, are those flowers?” She hummed, turning the painting to the side, looking at it in every which way, pulling it in and bringing it out, “The white bits here? And the leaves- this wouldn’t be an Elder, would it? And the heather!”

You clapped your hands, your voice squeaky, “It is!”

You listened to a slight crowing off in the distance as a seabird cheered, and after a long moment of careful appreciation, you were nearly startled as Inga made an attempt to hand it back.

Though unready to take it, you brought out your hands slightly, your smile still soft but there, though slightly strained in the way smiles were when you were puzzling or doing menial tasks, or when you were between laughs.

You felt something twinge in your chest, sharp and close to where your heart might be. It could have been the joy in giving or it could have been something else. It could have been your compass, perhaps, or just plain intuition, made up of all your nerves and bones, mashed up and pieced together like a handful of loose dials and twine and other such things.

You trusted it more than anything

“You’ve got nails?” You asked, ignoring a flash of movement at the corner of your eye, insisting more with the jerky movement of your arms, pushing it back towards her with your palms pressed gently into the top two corners, saying without words that she should have it. “It would look good in your ship- in the cabin by the front, I’d say.”

“I’d do well to take good care of your special charm,” Inga smiled kindly, lighting a feeling in you which you could definitely, surely call ‘the joy in giving’ this time, looking down at you with grateful eyes, “Thank you.”

‘Special charm’ was what she called anything you gave anyone at all, though you could find no reason to disagree with the name.

“It’s no problem for me.” You shuffled your feet bashfully, as she moved up the slim bridge into the shallow bowels of her small ship, “Tell little Erik I’ve said ‘hullo.’”

Bo and Inga- You were sure they’d do well.

Your eyes wandered as you waited, the two love birds making conversation over your painting in their small ship, your fingers linked behind your back like small chains.

You eyed the sea curiously, though your eyes were drawn to some noise off the side

The docks weren’t as empty as before, as, off into the distance, you spotted a boy in a fuzzy, brown fur cloak, dull and slightly matted from what you could tell from the distance, with the hints of a very noble green tunic underneath.

On a crate before him lay a floppy fish of a respectable size, one of the bruised leftovers, you’d reckon, which he tried to maneuver with his dagger as if it were a utensil.

He leaned incredibly far forwards, one leg bent and the other stretched completely flat behind him, nearly dropping both it and his dagger into the sea before he had given up and grabbed it securely in the mouth with his thumb and forefinger.

You thought he might have been doing his best to be sneaky, though you were sure he hadn’t seen you at all during all the time you’d been watching him.

Absent-mindedly, you watched him hurry back towards the very foot of the ramp leading back to the village, which briefly covered him with its large shadow. Then, you slowly turned your attention back to the sound of muffled conversation and blooming praise.

#httyd #how to train your dragon #x reader #fanfiction #hiccup x reader #hiccup haddock #fem reader #httyd imagine #female reader #toothless

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of-solitude-past-and-present · 2 years

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Hidden in the Sands (Yandere!Naga!Kunikuzushi)

Warnings: Character Death (not reader, not kuni), Some Gore (description of a corpse), Injury (of reader), Monster AU, implied semi-cannibalism (he isn't human but close enough), some blood (mostly not reader's, a little is kuni's), biting, venom, graphic description of venom effects (used on reader non-lethally), kuni-typical insults, venom effects are made up, kuni tries to kill you (at first but doesn't follow through), reader has a semi-near-death experience, threats, kidnapping, imprisonment, nonconsensual touching (SFW ofc), general yandere themes, kunibaby is Not Nice but it's okay because he's hot, reader goes through the wringer... if you prefer soft yandere, this is probably not for you. loosely based on a rp I did with a friend.

Sorry I lied about the rook and sebek HCs. I have Sebek's pretty much done I think, but Rook remains an enigma. Might post them separately, idk.

Kuni's appearance is inspired by the desert horned viper. If the formatting seems a little weird at any point, it's because tumblr messed it up when I copy/pasted it here. Might fix it later.

6.5k words or so.

The Desert of Hadramaveth.

You haven't been here before. You thought the rest of the desert was bad, between the heat which was "enough to melt a mist flower but not really" (paraphrased from a certain fox friend) and the unforgiving terrain.

This was worse, with its near-constant sandstorms. This was the second one today, and you had only just left the Tanit camp. In other areas of the desert, you were begging for a reprieve from the sun, but here, you were almost begging for it back if it meant you didn't have to worry about getting sand in your eyes and throat. It was almost, almost enough to make you consider turning around and dropping the commission.

"Do you want to hear a dry joke?"

If it weren't for your friend here, you probably would. Unfortunately, you can't turn back now that you've gotten his hopes up. The most you can do is slump your shoulders and sigh, suffocating under the endless heat, what little you could see of the sun, and what you knew was coming next.

"Sure, I'll bite."

A large, beaming grin spread across Sanad's face, and you braced yourself.

"A desert."

"That's terrible."

"Oh, come on! It's funny and you know it!"

"Does that even count as a proper j-"

You paused, looking up at the sky. In the distance, you could see a large, beige cloud. Again?

"We need to find shelter. There's a sandstorm coming."

"Well, looks like we're in luck. Where isn't shelter?" he responded.

It was true. You and Sanad were somewhere just north of the Tanit Camps, near Wadi Al-Majuj. Ahead of the both of you was the entrance to a deep canyon, lined with ancient ruins. According to the map, it was called Pairidaeza Canyon. Behind you, there was another entrance to a different canyon, and according to your map, if you went back a ways and to the right, there'd be a third one.

"Come on, let's go! I need to look through these for my thesis!" He rushed, running ahead of you.

"Careful!" you called out. "There might be bandits down there."

He immediately slowed to a stop, sheepishly turning around to move back to his place next to you.

"On second thought, take your time. Just make sure there's nobody else in there."

You chuckle, already starting a reasonable pace down the steep slope into the canyon. "Thought so. Just a reminder, we're leaving immediately once the sandstorm ends, unless we find who or what we're looking for."

Right. What you were looking for. Recently, small groups of travelers and even large caravans were being attacked. Most of the attacks occurred between the Tanit Camp and around the Passage of Ghouls. A few supplies were usually stolen, but that wasn't the worst part.

A few days later, the rotting corpse of one of the travelers or nomads would be found, half-eaten and with a twin set of puncture marks in their throat. Any useful supplies would be missing, but oddly enough, the mora was almost never taken.

Normally, you'd assume that maybe it was just a deranged serial killer, and either the bodies were eaten by wild animals or the culprit was worse than you thought. But it was strange. What serial killer had fangs like that? And if it was a wild animal, what use would they have for supplies like bedrolls and first aid kits?

The survivors usually all said the same thing; they were caught out in the middle of a sandstorm, and all they heard was a scream or shout before one of their friends disappeared. When the body was found, some key survival supplies would be missing as well. When a caravan was attacked, some supplies (and occasionally people) would even be snatched right off the backs of the desert sumpter beasts.

Hence why you and your friend Sanad were out here to crack this strange case. Mostly you, though, since Sanad only wanted to take a gander at the desert ruins for some Akademiya thing. You'd probably have gone alone (or at least tried to, before you decided the mora wasn't worth it) but when he heard that you were going to this section of the desert, he insisted on coming for his thesis or something like that. He helped pay for the trip, and he was paying you personally, so you had no reason to refuse. He was your friend, and good company to boot, even if he was a little bit skittish.

"Well, that might be possible... but you said you didn't even know if the culprit was a person, didn't you?" he inquired, as the both of you passed the first of the ruins in the canyon.

You sighed. "Yeah, I told you all about that already."

A glimmer of excitement appeared in his eyes. "Well, I've been thinking since then, and I remembered this old desert legend! Have you heard of nagas?"

"Nagas?" you parroted.

"Yes, nagas!" He nodded his head. "They're an ancient race of ferocious half-human half-snake people that supposedly existed during the reign of King Deshret. Apparently they were equal parts revered and feared, as wise and strong beings."

You raised a somewhat skeptical brow. "I thought you didn't believe in legends?"

He laughed. "The Akademiya has declared them to be just baseless nonsense, so of course I don't think they actually exist. I just think it's very interesting, and it technically matches what we know..." He trails off, looking around in awe.

"If you want to look around, you can. Tell me if you see or hear anything."

You didn't need to tell him twice. With a rushed "thanks!" and a wave, he was practically bouncing up what probably used to be a set of stairs to a higher level within the ruins, off to your left. In the meantime, you'll look around, see if you can find anything interesting.

You looked up and around, spinning on your heels. From what you've seen of the canyon so far, it's just a straight corridor with partially collapsed stone ruins on both sides, and a fallen wooden bridge that once connected them. You can see several ways to climb up higher and explore the ancient stone buildings, including the way up that Sanad went.

You and Sanad are pretty deep into the canyon at this point, and you have to crane your head just to see the top. As you do this, you notice just how many floors there are in the ruins. Some have crumbled so much they seem almost completely inaccessible. They're so high up, you can't see anything on them from your angle at the bottom.

There's just so many places to hide. The realization makes you tense up a little. Maybe you should have gone up with him.

It's so strange though. The complicated ruins, numerous hiding places, and the nearby water would make this place an ideal camping spot for bandits and thieves. But so far, you haven't seen hide or hair of anyone else. Not even an abandoned camp.

Until somewhere in the ruins, you hear an odd sound. It's hard to make out, and it sounds so much like the normal shifting sand that you almost brush it off as a natural sound in the canyon. But you hear stone crumbling and rocks falling, and you look up, seeing something move on the side of a ledge too far above you to check. It's close enough that some of the rocks hit the ground next to you. You squint, watching the ledge, waiting for whatever it was to move again, but the sound stops. The hair on your neck stands on end–from what, you aren't sure. Sanad is even closer to the source of the sound than you are, but not far away at all. Just out of sight. Was it from him? Or someone watching him?

Or are they watching you?

You're not sure, and you'll check just in case. Sanad doesn't have anything to defend himself with except for a dagger. Without another thought, you surge up the stone steps, hand subconsciously finding its place on the pommel of your sword. When you get up there, you see him standing with a hand on his chin, studying some old glowing contraption you've never seen before.

"Did you hear that?" you ask, breathing just a little heavier than normal.

He turns to you somewhat incredulously, just as fine as ever. "Hear what? I haven't heard anything. Are you alright?"

You calm down a little bit, letting your hand fall from your sword. "I'm fine. I was just worried about you. Didn't you hear that noise? I saw something move up there." You look up at the ledge the rocks came from. You don't see any way to get up there that's safe.

The sand is starting to pour in harder through the massive gap in the canyon ceiling, and the wind is beginning to howl. You and Sanad are slowly being dusted in sand.

"You're a little on edge. Relax! A sandstorm is starting and the wind and sand probably just knocked a few rocks into the canyon or something. It happens all the time." He flashed you a reassuring smile, turning back to... whatever those were on the wall. They're shaped somewhat like bowls, and as sand pours into them, sand also pours out a hole in the side into another one of them. You're not the researcher here, so you ignore it.

You let go of some of the tension in your shoulders, letting out a held breath. "Alright, sorry for bothering you then. Just so you know, if the sandstorm gets any worse, we'll be moving deeper into the canyon to get out of the sand."

He turns back to you, somewhat pleading. "But can't I stay? I'm not the one looking for the guy, so you don't need me to come with you, right?"

You expected this, just as you expect that he'll be the one choosing to come with you after what you say next. "Yeah, you could, but if something happens I probably won't be able to hear it if I'm down there."

He freezes, grimacing a bit. "Alright, alright. Let me know when you move on."

As expected.

You chuckle at him with a lopsided smile, turning back to go down the ramp. He was probably right. It seemed like such a silly thing to panic over. Of course sand and rocks would shift and fall in the desert during a sandstorm. That's probably all you saw. You're glad you brought Sanad along and not some other stuck-up researcher who would have made fun of you for it.

When you reach the bottom again, you turn your attention to the ground. Aside from the sounds of the howling wind and pouring sand, you can hear water dripping as it coalesces into the wide but shallow puddle in front of you. That's not what interests you, though.

There's a long indentation in the sand, about as wide as you are, as if something had been dragged through. It extends further into the cave, where the ground becomes rockier and the track disappears.

You crouch down to inspect them further. Chances are, it's probably a large haul of supplies that was too big to properly carry. This place is the perfect hideout for thieves and bandits, so it would be worthwhile to investigate. If you're lucky, it might be the bandit you're looking for.

The canyon starts to darken, so much so that you now have trouble making out the edges of the track. Most of the sunlight that filtered in through the top has disappeared behind a haze. The sound of howling wind grows louder, and the hiss of pouring sand all around you is almost deafening. You've had quite enough of the sand raining on and around you, so you call out for Sanad to come back. It doesn't take him long to come rushing back down the way he came.

"We're heading deeper in to wait out the rest of it," you explain.

He sends a longing look back at where he had come from. "Alright... I see," he concedes, with a dejected slump of his shoulders.

You'll humor him. "Did you find anything interesting?"

He instantly brightens up, excited to talk about whatever he found. "Yes! It's this interesting mechanism that fills with sand. I read about it in a textbook once! It can be opened and closed, but I couldn't figure out how to. I've heard if you can fill them as they were intended to be, you can get treasure from them!"

You two begin moving deeper into the canyon, and you send him a teasing smile. "With the way you're talking, I'd almost think you're the adventurer here."

He shudders. "I could never. At least, not as a full time job. You encounter monsters all the time, don't you?"

"They're not so difficult to deal with, once you're used to seeing them."

"That is not at all reassuring!" He stops to let out a breath. "No, I just want the free mora. Trips like these are expensive."

You sigh. "Well, if you want to, we can at least take a crack at it together on the way out of here."

His eyes light up again. "That's wonderful! We can even split the rewards if we manage to solve it!"

"No more than an hour, though," you warn. "With all the sandstorms, we don't have the time to waste."

"Aww, fair enough." A moment of silence passes, and he turns back to you. "Oh, I almost forgot to ask you! Did you find anything interesting?"

You think back, and the only thing that comes to mind are the tracks.

"Well, a little bit behind us, I found these drag marks. Like someone had dragged a big bag or something, I couldn't tell what."

"Drag marks? Oh, so maybe it really is a naga after all."

You turn to him in exasperation. "Didn't you just say you didn't believe in them? Besides, why'd you even tell me about them if you don't think they exist?"

He laughs. "I'm kidding! I only told you mostly because I wanted to. But I have a more realistic theory too!"

"Really now?" You raised a skeptical brow.

He turns to you, faking a gasp in faux offense. "Why are you looking at me like that? Of course I do! I don't study at the Akademiya for nothing!"

You chuckle. "Oh, go on then. Don't keep me waiting."

"What if the culprit keeps a snake around? Think about it, at the price of a little food, they'd get an unlimited supply of p–Hey! Don't laugh at me! It's not as ridiculous as it sounds!"

Apparently you weren't as good at hiding your snickers as you thought. "No, no, I'm not laughing at you. I was just imagining it in my head. From what I heard, it would have to be a pretty big one based on the size of the puncture wounds and the distance between the fangs."

He crossed his arms, looking away. Guess he didn't quite believe you. "It's not THAT unbelievable, especially in comparison to the naga theory... Haven't you seen the street performers with the snakes in Port Ormos?"

You hold your hands out in a placating gesture. "Okay, okay, you're right, I'm sorry. But your theory doesn't explain everything–what about the half-eaten bodies part? And they almost never take mora either... besides, the street performers use nonvenomous snakes."

"I guess it would be risky, but in theory, venomous snakes can be trained too! Desert dwellers tend to be... fearless. Though..." He puts a hand to his chin in contemplation, looking down. "I'm not quite sure about that other part either. Though it's not as if cannibalism was ever off the table, there's always the chance it was just wild animals that found the body after. As for mora... maybe it's someone who never gets the chance to spend it anyway?"

"Like, a recluse or something?" you pipe up.

"Yeah, exactly! Someone who's completely self-sufficient, who doesn't need to deal with other people to survive. Makes enough sense. They probably get everything they need from the people they're attacking."

At this point, the both of you are up to your ankles in water. The canyon is fairly wide at the bottom and grows so much narrower towards the top that very little sand makes it through, so you take the liberty of brushing as much of it off of you as possible. The both of you pass the last of the stone ruins. Up ahead is just bare, mostly untouched canyon. It's damp enough to support an amount of greenery that seemed a little out of place in the desert. You can still hear the wind howl, but it's a bit quieter here.

You and Sanad pass an opening in the wall to your right, leading to a dead end with a fairly deep pool and what looked to be a crumbled stone bridge.

"Your theory is a little... out there, but some of it definitely makes a good deal of sense."

"It's an early hypothesis! We'll revise it as we find more evidence."

You roll your eyes a bit. "It's alright, I'm not judging you."

You look around again. There's plenty of dry places to stop and rest without worrying about sand, so this should be an adequate place to wait it out.

"Why don't we stop here?"

"Not yet!" Sanad points further into the cave, where it opens up some more, with a rock jutting out of the center of the room, surrounded on one side by a shallow stream of water. "I can see more ruins in there! You can stop there and I can keep looking around."

You sigh, for what felt like the hundredth time. As much as you wanted to rest, it wasn't far away at all. "Alright. But we're still going back to that mechanism immediately once the sandstorm is over."

"I know, I kn–"

From an entrance to another path to your right came a blur, barreling right at Sanad. You have barely enough time to shove him behind you and out of its way before it stops in front of you both, dark claws bared.

Now that you can get a look at it, you realize it's a scarred, shirtless man with a dark head of hair, sharp indigo eyes, and... two pale, straight horns? Looking down, he doesn't have a pair of legs, but a sand-colored snakelike tail with rough scales. Even without the rest of his tail, which was hidden behind him, he's quite literally twice your size.

A naga?

He sneers at your sword as you pull it from your sheath, showing off a long pair of fangs. "A little short, isn't it?" He hisses. "Good luck with that."

"Sanad, get back!" You cry, holding your sword out in front of you threateningly. The naga seemed more amused than anything, simply starting to circle. Watching.

While you backed up to keep the naga from getting between you and Sanad, he hurriedly ran far back the way the both of you came, staying just close enough to watch the both of you.

Without warning, the naga lunged forward, one claw-tipped hand reaching out to swipe at you. You swung your sword at his arm, but missed, just barely grazing his side. Still, it was enough to force him back. He brushed over the superficial wound with one hand, smearing what little blood came from it, taking a look.

You stand there, adrenaline pumping through your veins, unsure of what to do. His reach was almost as long as yours, even though you were the one with the sword. This has to be who you're looking for, but you're beginning to think that you should've brought more people.

When he looks back at you, that cruel sneer is still set in his face, but a glint of annoyance is now present in his eyes.

"Lucky hit. Don't count on it happening again."

He doesn't hesitate, rushing forward immediately. You swing again, but it's too early, and he barely has to slow down before he's coming at you again. He's so close now that he grabs your shoulder, claws digging in hard enough to draw blood, shoving you down. In a blind panic, you're forced to adjust your grip on your sword so that you can bring your arm back and stab into his tail.

Before you even realize what's happened, you're on the ground, wind knocked out of your lungs. The arm that had held your sword is pinned to the ground by one of his hands, the other still holding onto your shoulder. You wheeze pathetically while he leans down and slides his fangs into your throat.

Your sword had bounced off of his scales, barely even leaving a mark.

The first thing you feel in your throat is pain, followed by an overwhelming numbing sensation, only interrupted by pins and needles. He chuckles as you thrash around in his hold, your free hand trying to push him off. The sensation is spreading, from your shoulder down even to your fingertips. The only thing you can do is let out a pained groan.

The pressure, from anything, from his hands on you to your own as you push and hit him, hurts. Like everything that touches you only pushes those pins and needles deeper into your skin. It's this feeling that finally makes you go limp in his hold, giving in. It gives you the chance to look up, focus on anything but him, and see that Sanad has long since abandoned you. Lucky bastard.

You hope that he gets away, at least. Even as the half-snake thing on you pulls away to hold your face in one hand, forcing you to look at him.

"Seems your little friend didn't care for you as much as you cared for him. Don't worry. I'll do you a favor and make sure he gets what's coming to him." You manage to focus on his face, smeared with your blood and that same, ever-present sneer, but with something else behind it. Something vindictive.

You grit your teeth. It stung, even though you knew it was the only reasonable thing for Sanad to do.

It's petty, and it won't do you any favors, but you lift your arm and slap him across the face as hard as you can. The impact alone sends shocks of pain down your arm, but he barely even moves.

Instead, he laughs in your face, dark amusement flitting across his hauntingly beautiful features. "What was that? A love tap? After everything, I'm surprised you can even try." He leans in closer still, your noses almost touching.

"I'm sure you feel proud of yourself, don't you? Good job! I might just leave you for last, then."

Without another word, he dashes off to find Sanad, and all you can do is pray the snake isn't successful. After all, what's a pampered Akademiya researcher to do against a man-eating monster?

You try to stand, but a bone-deep exhaustion pulls at your limbs. You can only get halfway up before your vision starts to go dark and you collapse onto the ground in a graceless heap. The pressure still hurts, a strange buzzing sensation rising alongside the needles and numbness. All you can do to help it is curl onto your side, minimizing your contact with the ground.

You lay there for a while, drifting in and out of consciousness for who knows how long. The pain is fading slightly, but you're not sure if it only feels that way because you're getting used to it.

Maybe you're dying.

A chill goes down your spine at the thought, and you do your best to dismiss it. It isn't hard, not when your thoughts are interrupted by a terrified, blood-curdling scream cut too short to be natural.

It brings you back to your senses. You keep listening, but you can't hear any more noises over the constant sounds of the canyon. Dripping water, falling sand, and the howling wind.

If that was Sanad, then since you're already deep within the snake's den, it must be only a matter of time before he gets back...

You're pushing yourself back on your feet before you know it, another rush of adrenaline supporting you. To do what, you're not sure. If you couldn't win before, you certainly can't now. But you're already running as best you can to where you saw Sanad go, though it's more of a relatively fast half-stumble than anything else. Everything still hurts, and beneath the venom you can start to feel your muscles ache too, but if you focus on moving it isn't unbearable.

You forgot your sword. You'd turn back to get it, but even with the adrenaline your limbs feel like lead, and your sword arm is so weak you don't think you could do more than carry it anyway.

You've just reached the ruins again, and looking around at all the nooks and crannies gives you the idea to hide. As sluggish and unarmed as you are, you can't fight anyway. Maybe if you hide long enough, he'll go away. Sanad might still be alive, if you can make it to him.

You don't know how long you were laying there, but if you could hear Sanad, they couldn't have gotten far. That fact is a double-edged sword, you realize. It's been a while since you heard his scream, and if the naga was coming back then it wouldn't be long until you saw him. You don't have much time.

You stagger your way as fast as you can manage to your right. You don't see anywhere to hide down at the bottom, but there are plenty of places above. It's so much harder than walking on flat ground, but you force yourself up a wooden ramp onto a stone platform. There aren't a variety of places to hide here, either, but you don't have the energy to go up any higher.

You hear the water below you being disturbed, in a way too constant to be footsteps, and you quickly duck forward to avoid being seen. You don't dare look, instead opting to slowly move towards a large stone statue to your right, as quietly as possible. With one look back to make sure he hadn't come up to check, you hide behind the stone dais that the statue rested on.

You take a breather, listening for any more sounds. You can't hear the water being disturbed anymore, but the thought of moving alone is both terrifying and exhausting. If you wait too long and he finds you gone, he'll probably come back to look for you. On the other hand, if you leave too early and he hears you...

With this in mind, you rest a few minutes more. The wind is slowing down, and there's less sand in the air than there was when you and Sanad first came through, so the sandstorm has likely stopped. At least the naga won't have that going for him too, once you and Sanad leave.

You'd stay longer, but the anxiety eats at you. It's only a matter of time until the naga comes back, and you don't know what condition Sanad is in.

You get up on shaking legs, your body begging you to sit back down and rest more. You know better, so you force yourself forward, looking over the ledge to make sure he isn't nearby.

You stumble back down the wooden ramp, turning to continue down the path to the exit. You have to stick to the sides of the path, where the sand is highest, just to make sure nobody can hear the sounds of splashing water.

Sanad can't be too far off now. Maybe he'll be in the same state you are, and you both can return to the Tanit camp and get help. You still have your pack on you, but the only thing that might be useful soon is the small first aid kit and the knife.

You really hope you won't need the knife.

Just in case, you pull it out of your pack and put in in your pocket. You're out of the water now, but you've come to a steep hill. The only way out is up. You hope you can make it.

You grit your teeth, sweat dripping down the side of your face as you force yourself up the incline. Onward and upward, you think bitterly. The overused phrase "ad astra abyssosque" parroted endlessly by everyone else at the Adventurer's Guild comes to mind. You never thought you'd make it to the stars or abyss to begin with, but you didn't think your journey would end so soon, either.

Your muscles burn with exhaustion, and you think you can feel the numbness slowly spreading further into your legs. Still, you continue upwards, at a much slower pace, even as you almost collapse a few times.

You come up to a point where the hill flattens out for a short distance. You're panting from the exertion, and you almost breathe a sigh of relief until you see what's in front of you.

"Sanad!"

Before you know it, you've staggered forward to collapse at his side. He's lying face-down on the ground in a small pool of his own blood.

You turn him over, tears pricking at your eyes, praying his condition wasn't as bad as it seemed. His head lolled to the side, face pale and eyes empty, unmoving. The blood, on the ground and splattered all over the front of his Akademiya robes, still dripped from the massive tear in his neck. It looked like a set of claws had dug into his skin and tore off the front of his throat.

Your breath hitches, and you fall backwards, dropping his body. Tears well up in your eyes. Why hadn't he done the same to you? Why did he do so much worse to-

"So, so loyal. Like a dog running to protect its master. You're adorable, really, even if you're a little late."

You freeze, only turning your head to look over your shoulder at him. He's slowly approaching, a condescending smirk on his lips. Half-dried blood covers one of his hands.

"There's no need to mourn. He was pathetic. Did you know that he only cared enough to fight when it was his life on the line?" He looked distant for a moment, before looking at you with something almost soft in his eyes. It disappeared so fast, you'd almost think you had imagined it, the condescending smirk and mock pity sliding to cover his face once more. "You poor thing. You're better off without him. No need to thank me."

You blink away the tears, an idea coming to mind. You couldn't overpower or outrun him, so there's only one possible option for you. "You're a... you're a lying bastard! What else was he going to do?" You yelled at him, pushing yourself up on unsteady legs to face him, backing over your friend's body.

"Humans are untrustworthy," he croons, following after you. His eyes don't leave you even once. He's sizing you up, and with nothing more than a moment of contemplation, his smirk widens and a victorious glint appears in his narrowed eyes. "He was using you. Once you were no longer useful to him, he discarded you. It's pretty naive to think he left you with any other thought in mind."

You don't dignify that with a response, continuing to back up. One of your hands almost moves down to your pocket, where your knife is hidden, but you stop it before he sees.

Your heel hits the sharp incline behind you, where the hill keeps going, and you fall backwards and hit the ground. A derisive snort comes from the snake.

"I've decided what I'm going to do with you. It's much better than what I did to your friend, here. You should thank me, really." He towers over you, leaning down to your level, setting a hand down on the ground next to you. Your hand twitches for your knife.

He watches you for a moment, a quiet, breathy laugh leaving his lips at your frozen state. All you do is stare at him, shaking from the adrenaline. Finally, his other hand comes up to rest on the nape of your neck, pushing you closer to him. You can feel the sticky blood on his fingers.

His eyes glimmer with excitement, and he continues while your hand slowly drifts to your pocket. "You're just helpless. I think I'm going to keep you with me, like a little p-"

You thrust your knife at him, landing a hit on his side while he lurches away. Your blood runs cold. It should have been buried hilt-deep, but instead all you've done is leave a bleeding gash. It's not quite superficial, but it won't stop him, and you know you won't be able to land another.

His lips curl in a snarl as you scramble backwards up the hill. You turn, and start running, but adrenaline can only carry you so far. You feel almost like you're in a nightmare, fully conscious and trying to run but unable to move at any pace that could possibly save you.

It only takes a moment for a large hand to wrap around your ankle, dragging you underneath him. Your face hits the ground and your hands scrabble for purchase, but the dirt and sand only give way beneath your fingers. His other hand finds the wrist with the knife, squeezing tightly enough that you can feel the pain, even underneath the lingering numb, buzzing sensation. You can't feel your hand well enough to keep holding onto the knife. The pins and needles return, and tears prick at your eyes.

He knocks the knife far away from you and flips you over to look at him, dark eyes still burning with anger. "You're alive only because I let you live. Did you really think trying that was smart? Did you finally get it all out of your system, or do you want to try again?"

You try to speak, but the words get caught on the lump in your throat. A hand slams on the ground next to you, and you shrink in on yourself.

"Well?" A glimmer of satisfaction appeared in his eyes, even as his lip curled in a mixture of amusement and contempt. "I'm waiting."

It's all you can do to croak out a few apologies and look away, unable to stand his stare.

A deep chuckle resonates from his chest, and his other face grips your jaw, forcing you to look at him again. "Good enough," he croons. "Looks like it won't be so bad for you, then."

"What? What won't?" you whimper. His hand lets go of your face, drifting down to encircle your neck. Your hands instinctively wrap around his wrist, silently begging him not to squeeze.

That little mocking smile on his face widens. His hand tightens a little, and you panic for a second, but it doesn't go any further. Instead, his eyes grow distant, thinking.

They brighten up again, an idea coming to mind. He laughs quietly to himself, pulling his other hand off the ground and trailing it down your leg. "You can call me... Kunikuzushi. I think I know what I'm going to do with you now."

"Please don't hurt me," you plead, vision blurring with tears. He doesn't even look at you, instead watching his hand as he grabs your calf and pulls it up. "It's a little late for that," he hums, adjusting his grip to hold onto your ankle instead. His fingers are long enough to wrap fully around it and then some.

"I can't watch you all the time, and I need to buy myself enough time to get something to restrain you with... besides, you deserve this anyhow."

You were about to ask him what he meant by that, but with a distressing amount of ease, he twisted your ankle to the side hard enough that you could hear the pop. The pins and needles returned to that area full-force, the buzzing and numbing sensations right behind it. It didn't hurt that much, though. You could feel an ache beneath it all, but it didn't hurt as much as it should have. You were sure you could still walk on it.

Until you looked down, where it was still in his hand, twisted so far to the side that you weren't sure it would ever be the same again. It doesn't hurt that much, but your shoulders still shake and you still start to cry.

"There, there," he murmurs, dropping your ankle to stroke your hair. He leans down lower, a smile a little too sharp to be soft on his lips. "You'll be okay. I wouldn't get a pet if I couldn't take care of it."

You try to push him away. You know you need to do something about your ankle, but he only presses closer, resting more of his weight on you so thay you can't see it anymore. "It's a bit too late for that now, don't you think?" he whispers, leaning in to press his lips against yours, too eager and with too much teeth. You flail a bit, trying to push him off, but he only chuckles into the kiss, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood. An arm wraps around your waist, pushing you closer.

It feels like an eternity, but soon he's sweeping you up and slinging you over his shoulder. He turns around to go back down into the canyon, and you watch Sanad's corpse disappear over the hill.

This time, you can feel him rumble with the force of his laugh.

"I'm going to have so much fun with you."

#scaramouche #yandere scaramouche #kunikuzushi #yandere kunikuzushi #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere kunikuzushi x reader #yandere #I'm not sorry I disappeared again I was having a good time #not fully proofread. I'll get around to it another time when I reconsume my own content bc it was made with my desires in mind #the entire time I was writing this I had the words “he's so babygirl” running through my head on repeat #kuni: *tortures the reader insert*#me: yes!!! My Babygirl!!!#it's 5 am and I haven't slept yet sorry I couldn't stop thinking about him #naga scara

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cherhys · 2 years

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A Laurel Wreath to Keep

Gladiator!Cassian x Princess!Reader AU

Summary: Your father, the Emperor, is adamant that you are assigned a bodyguard befitting your station. While he is confident that the man for the job will be found competing in the Coliseum, you aren’t entirely convinced. At the very least, until he participates…

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Slight gore (canon-typical violence), some historical inaccuracies (I mean cmon)

Notes: You mean you haven’t thought about Gladiator Cassian?…Weird. Let me put you on with this fic then. ;)

The hot sun beat down on your skin, your sweat-slick back sticking to the cool marble of your chair. The faint breeze did little to cool you down, the copper stench of blood assaulting your senses. You turned away from the gore to look at your father, the Emperor, who clapped along with the other spectators in the Coliseum.

The games never interested you much. The needless violence everyone revelled in was beyond your understanding. Usually, you’d be able to circumvent the gladiatorial games with pouting lips and a couple of batted lashes at your father but today was not to be. Your father insisted that you would enjoy today–just as he insisted the first time he brought you to the games, and the time thereafter, and thereafter.

However, there was an objective to watching the games today that went beyond basking in bloodshed. Your father was resolute that you necessitated a new bodyguard and what better place to find a man worthy of laying his life down for the princess?

According to the Emperor at least.

You scowled at the brutish men before you, all eager to please the bloodthirst of the crowd. A shudder ran down your spine at the manic look in their eyes; one had to be mad in order to bludgeon another man's skull while he pleaded for mercy.

While the death of their opponents wasn’t the goal of most gladiators—a simple surrender would suffice with the crowd’s and Emperor’s benevolence—this particular beast hadn’t seemed satisfied until the sand flowed with his foe’s blood.

The crowd roared their approval, temporarily appeased. The winner threw his head back and roared at the sky, scarlet splattered on his armour. Even from a distance, you could tell the monster of a man towered above the common populace. He spread his thick arms wide and turned slowly towards the stands of the Coliseum, relishing the kill.

“What about that one, my dear?” Your father’s words pulled you away from the grotesque drippings on the pommel of the winner's gladius.

You briefly glanced at him, contempt in your tone, “That one?”

“Why of course! Didn’t you see how he defeated all his opponents?” Unfortunately, you thought. Visions of exposed viscera flashed through your mind and you quickly shook the grisly memories away.

“I fear he’d crush my skull too if he felt so inclined.” You murmured, wincing at the deafening crowd. They’d begun chanting the monster’s name now.

“Pardon me?” Your father’s sudden question caught you off guard, and you quickly smoothed the most princess-worthy smile on your face.

“Nothing, Father. I merely think that he wouldn’t be well suited as my bodyguard.” A bead of sweat rolled down your stiff spine as your father contemplated your words.

Please don’t burden me with this beast.

Your blood only cooled as you noticed the gladiator approaching the dais where you sat, his frenzied gaze fixed on you.

Your father loosed a sigh and abruptly stood, addressing the arena, “You have done well Aptonetus! Has he not?” The crowd boomed with approval. A greasy smile spread across Aptonetus’s face, his stare still stuck on you. Goosebumps covered your skin despite the sweltering weather.

“You have won many matches in the arena, but will you seek more glory if given the opportunity?”

Finally, his gaze shifted to your father, and Aptonetus bowed his head in acknowledgment.

“With honour, Your Majesty.”

As if he had a choice in the matter.

The emperor smiled widely, indulging in his acquiescence, “From Pompeii, I present a tiro who has made a name for himself in the gladiatorial school. The Lord of Bloodshed they call him!”

The crowd exclaimed—a tiro? Someone who has never fought in the arena was meant to compete against a veteran like Aptonetus?

However, murmurs arose through the Coliseum; you couldn’t help but wonder how talented this tiro was that he had been bestowed such a vicious nickname. It was no matter—you were sure his warm blood would soon stain the sands like the fallen gladiators before him. Aptonetus seemed to think the same, that oily smirk back on his face. The sudden uproar of the crowd signalled the entrance of who was to be Aptonetus’s new opponent.

He emerged into the beating sun, leather sandals padding along the sand. The cheering of the crowd suddenly seemed distant as you took in the war god walking before you. This gladiator may have been a tiro, but he walked with the confidence of a man who had conquered battlefields—and would do so again. The light reflected off his golden helm—his face hidden—and like many of the gladiators, that was the extent of his armour. His tan chest was bare, glistening with a sheen of sweat. You could’ve sworn a drop rolled down between the cavity of his abdominal muscles, bracketed by a perfectly shaped V. Your eyebrows rose as you noticed the swirling tattoos that adorned his broad shoulders, partially reaching down his powerful arms. This was a man who was sculpted with the most careful hand, by the finest of artists.

No matter his physical prowess, you remained stoic. With a title like Lord of Bloodshed, you’re sure his bloodlust matches that of Aptonetus’s—if not worse.

However, as the man stood in front of the dais to kneel before your father, a shred of doubt probed your conscience. The look in his hazel eyes was not one of madness, but sheer determination. Those same bright eyes locked on yours, and you lifted your chin imperiously. You would see if he was worth your favour.

“Your Majesty, I present myself to you. I offer you my blade and my life.”

Despite the words being meant for your father, his deep voice was a sweet caress. As the fresh gladiator stood at your father’s behest, his words took on a new meaning once he glanced your way again. You tightened your clasped hands.

“Go on, men! Give us a good fight!”

With that final proclamation by the emperor, the roar of the crowd began anew. Aptonetus and the new gladiator took up their positions at opposite ends of the arena. The Coliseum held its breath, anticipating the fight to come.

Aptonetus wiped his soiled sword on the canvas cloth around his hips, a sharp smile gleaming even from below his helm.

The new gladiator hoisted his shield, wicked gladius at the ready. You could count his breaths; in, out, in, out—

The war trumpet blared.

The men quickly jumped into action, sand kicking at their feet. With a thunderous ring, steel clashed against steel.

Your jaw gaped in awe; you had never seen anyone fight like this, gladiator or trained militia. Where Aptonetus was near brutish in his swinging, sword swooping in large arcs as he hurtled toward his opponent, the new gladiator seemed to dance on his feet. The tiro’s moves were all carefully calculated. Place a right foot here, a left foot there, and he’s drawn Aptonetus within his reach. His gladius arced with control, never any energy wasted. Despite his hulking size, he was fast and easily dodged the inefficient attempts of Aptonetus.

The crowd was just as stunned, for no one had ever kept up with Aptonetus so thoroughly, and for so long. The fight was clearly taking its toll on the veteran gladiator, every breath looking more ragged than the last. Meanwhile, his opponent never missed a beat.

You leaned towards your father, loath to take your eyes off of the battling men lest you miss anything.

“Who is he?” You breathed, as if speaking any louder would break the spell of the match.

“He’s a volunteer, my dear. He opted to join the fighting school in exchange for a roof over his head and food in his belly.” The emperor shook his head lightly, a disbelieving smile on his face. Your heart ached, envisioning a poor boy with nothing to his name having to learn violence in order to survive.

Their swords flash, the hypnotic clashing of metal matching the rapid beating of your heart. Aptonetus was slowing, surely to be devoured in due time by his more swift opponent. In a desperate bid to reclaim the pace of the fight, Aptonetus lunged with a roar, sword arm thrown wide.

A crack resounded through the Coliseum as the new gladiator slammed his shield down onto Aptonetus’s wrist, breaking the bones. Aptonetus dropped his sword with a howl of pain, gripping his already bruising wrist. Refusing to back down, he squared his shoulders and prepared for a brawl. Only the new gladiator would take no such chances. He punched the butt of his sword into Aptonetus’s abdomen, effectively dropping him to the ground.

The veteran gladiator attempted to stagger to his feet but the hit had found its mark, and he failed to catch his breath. In the next few moments, the tiro had the point of his sword poised at the neck of Aptonetus.

A beat of shock pulsed through the crowd before they erupted into cheers, the noise only escalating as Aptonetus finally lifted his finger, signalling his surrender and the end of the match. The drums beat rhythmically to celebrate, and you found yourself clapping with a smile on your face.

He was breathtaking and entirely magnificent. He fought with grace, with respect. This was a gladiator who you could watch until the end of your days. But more importantly—

“Him,” You whispered, “I want him as my bodyguard.”

The surrender of Aptonetus invoked the voting procedure, the crowd to decide his fate. The newly victorious gladiator took in the Coliseum, sword still pointed, to watch the people make clear their desire. Overwhelmingly, they turned their thumbs down.

Kill him, they decided.

The veteran gladiator glanced around, bewildered at the booing of an audience that had once chanted his name. While watching the vote of the crowd, the victor turned to gaze at the dais, hazel eyes locking on yours. He tilted his head in question, And you? He seemed to say.

A slow smile bloomed across your face, his breath catching. In all his years at the gladiatorial school, he had never gotten to see the famed princess of the Empire. Finally being in your otherworldly presence—he understood the enchantment, the popularity, even the songs he had heard performed in your honour.

You nodded and winked conspiratorially at him (his chest swelled a little with male pride at that), decidedly pointing your thumb down.

Kill him indeed.

The moment isn’t lost on Aptonetus and he uses the distraction to fling sand up into the victor’s eyes. The man stumbles back and Aptonetus tackles him to the ground, a brawl ensuing. The crowd’s gasps are lost on you as you stand abruptly, fixated on the two men grappling in the sand. Sweat-slicked limbs and golden helms wrestle around, making it difficult to determine who has the upper hand. Sand flings up around them while officials rush over to separate the two.

Your heart is in your throat, hands clasped tightly in front of your chest.

In a move your eyes are too slow to follow, the young gladiator manages to pin Aptonetus beneath him, thick thighs straddling his lower back. Aptonetus’s face is in the sand, sputtering as he tries to raise himself off of the ground. He roars in defiance, but the sound is cut off by the slick sound of a dagger sinking into the base of his skull. The victor digs the blade in until the gladiator beneath him is no longer twitching.

The officials arrive just as the chaos ends, the victor already having lifted himself from Aptonetus’s dead body. His hazel gaze is severe through his helm as he stares at the corpse, fists clenched at having to unnecessarily take a life.

Before your father can step up to offer his congratulations, you shift to the front of the dais, the Empror’s protests falling on deaf ears.

“Glorious victor!” His head snaps over to you, his brain quickly bypassing his shock to approach where you stand. The man kneels before you, his head bowed.

“Let us hear it for the Lord of Bloodshed and his marvellous display!” The audience booms in response, just as enamoured with the man’s craft as you were.

You lower your voice, your words only for him now, “What is your name?”

He looks up at you, reverence colouring his tone, “Cassian, Your Highness.”

“Cassian,” The name delectably rolls off your tongue, his jaw clenching at the ease with which it leaves your lips. He wants to hear you say it a million more times. “Do take off your helmet Cassian.”

Cassian ripped his helmet off with haste, placing it on the sand beside him. Your chest constricts at the face of the living Adonis before you. Sweaty thick locks fell around his angular, flushed face. Dark lashes frame earnest hazel eyes, near molten in the sun. Stubble lightly covered his strong jaw, his pink lips pulling back to reveal a stellar grin you couldn’t help but match.

Once again, you raise your voice, “It is with this laurel wreath,” An attendant quickly brought over the leafy crown, “That I congratulate you on your triumph today. You will be rightfully compensated with the rewards your contract stipulates.”

You took the wreath and gently placed it on his head, his heated gaze never leaving yours.

“I’m sure I will see you soon, Cassian.”

His breath hitched, eyes searching your face, “I hope so, Princess.”

Your light chuckle had his cheeks pinking, the flush only spreading down his chest once you pat his sweat-damp head, “No need for hope, Cassian. I’ll get what I want.”

With that, you stepped away, Cassian’s heavy stare burning into you. You addressed the crowd a final time, “To Cassian! Our newest victor!”

The crowd began to chant his name, and you returned to your seat, already scheming how to convince your father that Cassian would be your perfect bodyguard.

Final Notes: Part 2? Let me know what you think :)

Fun History Facts—Voting to pardon a gladiator was a real thing that was done in the event of surrender. Mark Antony had a troupe of gladiators as his personal bodyguard and other upper-class citizens would also hire gladiators at times. A tiro is a gladiator fighting his first-ever public match. Aptonetus was a real gladiator! Much like his fictional counterpart, he was a veteran who was defeated by a newcomer, Spiculus. Cassian is loosely inspired by both Spiculus and Marcus Atilius, some of the more famous gladiators. Ok, the history lesson is now over.

#cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #cassian/reader #cassian acotar #cassian #acotar #acotar x reader #acomaf #acowar #acosf #cassian fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #cherhys

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listentothelittlebird · 1 month

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I would be embarrassed at how quickly i did this but frankly i’m not! So @skizzlemanweek hi :)

Day 1: calm / chaos - I think I’m supposed to pick one but. Uh. I didn’t

word count: 1079

AU: idk man i made it up. Brain go brrrr

enjoy :D

This is what Skizz knows: elytras do not agree with him. This is not because he does not know how to fly. Moreover, he knows how to fly too well. Born in the air, flying his whole life, and only learning to walk as a teen.

When he joins Hermitcraft, he brute forces his way through learning elytra until Impulse brute forces him into talking with Xisuma. Now he flies with his wings, though the wind will not answer his call, has not answered him since he left his home.

This is what Skizz, and all the hermits, have discovered: that the new world has brought them enemies that command the air. That their droppings, when grinded down, form handheld blasts of wind, pockets of air that they can twist to their will.

“You got the wind charges?”

Impulse is just a speck of yellow in the distance, nearly indistinguishable against the sunlight. Skizz has to use his communicator to talk to him, with how far away he stands.

“Yeah, I got them.” A pause, a message flying through the worldwide channel. “Oh, hold on. Tango wants to watch.”

“Get him to bring his own wind charges!” A shadow zips over Skizz’s head, Zedaph descending onto his own haphazard column of red sand. It makes Skizz feel like the widest sandwich on earth, with Impulse on one side and Zedaph on the other.

Skizz shakes out his wings, idly catching a stray feather as it floats around his face. His skin feels restless, though the heat is probably just as much to blame.

Skizz waits for Tango to join their voice channel before he starts pestering him.

“Hurry up!” He bellows, cackling when Tango responds with muttered blaze noises and the sound of whistling rockets.

“Have you guys tested this yet?” Tango asks, as he quickly assembles his own pillar into the sky, slapping together a frankly unnecessary amount of scaffolding.

“Nope!” Zedaph chimes brightly. “Well, Impulse says Grian tested it out, but only Gem was with him to throw the wind charges. And Grian’s not even windborn! I bet Skizz can do much more than blow some guardians out of a lake.”

“At least Xisuma’s around.” Impulse pauses as he types a message, and relays the replies to them. “He’s got a backup copy saved. Feel free to let loose, Skizz.”

“We should’ve done this at your base, then!” Skizz shakes his wings out again, looks around at the barren landscape of their sand collection point.

They know Skizz well enough, by now. Even with a backup saved, just being near to their precious architecture would make Skizz dial it down by the dozens.

Here, though, is no man’s land.

“Okay!” Tango has finally ascended his scaffolding. “Reefy!”

“Great!” Without warning, white wisps explode towards Skizz from Zedaph’s pillar. The gust kicks up the sand beside him, ruffling his feathers. “Oops, sorry! Test shot!”

“Wait, wait!” Skizz eyes the horizon and plops down his bedroll. “Let me snooze.”

It gives him a moment of calm, a chance to settle his thoughts and get into the space he needs to do this well. By the time his bedroll is rolled up, his valuables stashed away in his ender chest, he can feel the difference.

The air in this desert is warm, slowly floating upwards from the sheer heat of the sand. When he breathes, the air shifts. It does the same near Zedaph, near Impulse, near Tango.

Skizz closes his eyes. “Fire another test shot for me.”

The burst of wind comes from Impulse this time. Skizz sidesteps the blast and opens his eyes to take in the impact as it collides with the sand. The white wisps glow brighter now that Skizz is concentrating, and he diligently tracks as the magic fades.

“Alright. When I say go, just keep firing until you run out of blasts, okay?”

Skizz nods as his friends agree.

“Right. Three, two, oneâ€¦go!”

Skizz tracks the first wind charges as they whizz towards him, not with his eyes but with the honed instincts of a windborn. The wind charges part the air like icebreakers in the ocean, barreling towards their destination with no care for detours.

Three seconds before the wind charges reach Skizz, he spreads his wings. Two seconds, and he flaps them, feathers glowing aether white. One second, and a swirling ring curls around Skizz, just in time to catch the wind charges.

The ring quickly engulfs Skizz’s sight, shooting far past his head faster than any time before. It takes a moment for Skizz to hear his friends cheering through his communicator, because the wind is so loud it creates a veritable vacuum of sound.

When Skizz tilts his head up, he can only gape. The wind charges have gained a glow akin to his wings, swirling upwards in a spiral that can only be described as a tornado. The pure white has become a dusty maroon, sand sifting through the currents like an ocean on land.

In the middle of it all, the eye of the storm, stands Skizz. For the first time since leaving his birthplace for good, the skies have bent to his will.

“Skizz!” Impulse yells through the communicator, barely restrained glee in his voice. “We’re out of wind charges! How’s it looking in there?”

Skizz takes in everything one more time, the way the vortex seems to turn without a sign of slowing, and can only laugh.

“Oh, it’s looking pretty calm here. I could take a nap.”

“You’re nuts!” Tango yelps. He never got used to extreme weather in the overworld, and it still shows. “I’m about to fall off all this scaffolding, and you want to take a nap?”

Skizz grins, and shifts his feet. When he moves, step by step, the tornado follows.

His wings have to stay outstretched to keep the tornado going, but flying around has kept them more than strong enough to hold the air for a little while longer.

“Want to join me, Top?”

It takes a moment, but then Tango is letting out a blaze shriek and firing several rockets at once, to the unhelpful cackling of Impulse and Zedaph. Skizz elects to ignore them for now. The day is still young, and their own whirlwind terrors will come soon.

A test jump is enough to tell Skizz that the wind will carry him, far faster and further than any elytra there is.

Skizz grins, and gives chase.

#hermitcraft #What the heck are the tags #i really need a tagging system #skizzleman #skizzlemanweek #Is that even a tag??? Idek #i havent written anything in like. A week. Maybe two weeks #I think i mightve been banking manic energy for this week #Haha yayy wheee #Join me in fun and whimsy #I absolutely do NOT know how normal hermitcraft fics are written. Heck yeah #At long last i have broken in my brain for writing for this silly new fandom of mine #Gotta start writing shorter less strenuous works for my mental health <3

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snomoscribbles · 8 months

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Put Your Hands On Me- Part 1 of 2

Pairing: Adult!Ao'nung x Adult!Neteyam Rating: Explicit (in second chapter not this one) Tags: banter, sexual tension, time skip, sass A/N: Part 1 does not have nsfw themes, just suggestive, part two is all nsfw and feelings. AO3 Link

He lunged forward, his lips twitching slightly at the urge to hiss at his opponent and bare his teeth. Neteyam stepped from his reach, ducking down to avoid the Metkayina's bulky arms. A long striped leg hooked behind his ankles, but he turned into the movement to step over and avoid eating sand. ”Trying to sweep me off my feet, ‘Teyam?” ”Well I have experience.” --------------------------------------------- Or the one where Ao'nung is completely gone for Neteyam and is going to make it everyones problem. One Sparring Match at a time.

Contrary to popular belief, Ao’nung was in fact not a glutton for punishment.

It had been a couple years since the attack on the Metkayina and their soul siblings. While they hadn't heard anything of the Sky people making advances in a couple months now, relaxing wasn’t really in the cards just yet. Though some definitely had a harder time acclimating to the peace than others. Ao’nungs pale blue gaze strayed from his work weaving a tight armband back into its original shape, dragging his eyes lazily up the form of the darker azure forest Navi currently standing in the circle of young warriors to be. Neteyam. The Metkayina let out a long breath with a lopsided smile, his ears drooping a little at the sight. Neteyam stood proud and upright. Ao’nung’s eyes tracked the motions of his hands, they flowed through the air like agile Ilu, the gathered teens. Over the years He’d grown taller and broader, his time living with the reef Navi had definitely gained him some bulk, though not to the extent of the Metkayina. He was still slender in comparison.

His braids hung lower now, just dragging below his shoulder blades with beads and small shells woven sparsely through the dark hair. He often had the upper portion loosely tied up and away from the rest. A half topknot to keep it from his face. The light of the morning lit his ever golden gaze, a familiar warmth and fondness softening the color to something honeyed.

He was a good teacher, patient and just stern enough to demand respect. It made the teal Navis heart throb watching. Neteyam was so fond of his students. The lilt of Neteyams voice was lost at this distance sitting just at the entrance of his own Marui with his craft a little ways from the sandy shore where the darker Navi was teaching, but watching him was plenty enough for the bubbling of affection the Metkayina could never be rid of. As always, Ao’nungs gaze lingered on the light hued scarring marking the eldest Sully’s chest. A reminder of a life almost stolen far too young. His stomach didn’t sink as drastically when he saw it anymore, but it would always leave a bitter taste in his mouth. The aching need to go touch the man and be sure he wouldn’t vanish made his fingers twitch. It was unlikely that it would be a welcome action though. Not Without certain stipulations.

You see. Ao’nung had found a loophole.

Having done this song and dance a thousand times before, Ao’nung smirked, setting his half finished project to the side. A break was overdo anyway. Right?

He pushed himself to his feet, his tail swaying already in his excitement as he padded across the still cool sand of the beach to where the group was settled.

“Ao’nung!” His stride was interrupted, lips pulling down into a small frown, a furrow between his brows as Rotxo approached. ”Rotxo. Did you need something?” Rotxo covered his smile with his hand, absolutely aware of what he had stepped in the way of. He cleared his throat, crossing his arms loosely over his chest, now like Ao’nungs own decorated with fluid winding tattoos. ”Hello to you too. Are we really doing this again?” He nodded his head in the direction of Neteyam and his pupils with a raised brow, a knowing smile on his face, “You know you're going to lose. Again.” Ao’nung couldn’t help the short laugh that left him, puffing up his chest a little in defiance. ”I’ll have you know I've been getting at least 3 out of 10 wins. Which is more than I can say for you.” Rotxo snorted, “Yeah, because I'm not crazy enough to challenge Neteyam on a regular basis. He’s always three moves ahead of me.” Ao’nung’s eyes drifted back to the azure teacher across the beach, the man blissfully unaware of their talk. Neteyam had a sparring partner now. One of the younger Metkayina warriors, one who was clearly nervous even with the eldest Sully’s encouragement guiding him. He had good reason to be squeamish. Even if Neteyam was not as large as most of the reef Navi adults, he had an imposing aura. He was always footsure and steady, his eyes piercing and determined regardless of the task in front of him. He held himself with the experience and confidence of a man who’d been through absolute hell and back. Eywa it was attractive. Ao’nung might have been annoyed at his friends ribbing if this was really about winning. Anyone who knew Ao’nung was aware of his distaste for losing anything. Ever. Even now after all these years, he and Lo’ak were constantly at each others throats with one competition after another. Though it was mostly friendly competition at this point. ”I’m not crazy…” the larger Metkayina started, pursing his lips only briefly before giving into the large grin that stretched across his features, “Any decision that leads to Neteyams hands on me is a good one. Which really just means that Ive never lost a challenge.” ” Any- what? Oh. OH! Mighty Eywa!” A startled laugh made it out of Rotxo’s lips, leaning forward to rest his hands on his knees as he fought to breathe, “That makes…so much more sense then you wanting to get …your tail handed to you all the time.” He forced his words out between small chortling laughs, shaking his head,

“I take it back, I wont stop you. Go be wooed by the strikes of your syaksyuk. Go on.” Ao’nung rolled his eyes with a slight smirk. The smaller reef Navi made shooing motions with his hands, ushering Ao’nung toward their darker toned friend. Not only would Ao’nung enjoy the attention of Neteyam, but Rotxo would never complain about getting to see his best friend get thrown around a little. Some arrogance needed to be answered for okay?

Ao’nung gave his friend a half hearted shove to the shoulder before sauntering up the beach toward his original goal. Said goal was now pinning his pupil to the ground with the young warriors hands held firmly in the arch of his back. He wasn’t even breathing hard the damn beautiful bastard. ”You charged forward and aimed to incapacitate through strength. You did well, but you can not treat every threat the same. It worked against your peers, but I do not fight the same. Do you understand?” Neteyams voice was a balm to Ao’nungs nerves, his shoulders releasing tension from his earlier contemplation at the point blank tone. ”y-yes karyu.” {teacher}

The young warrior responded, eyes on the sand he was pinned to. Neteyam nodded, letting him go with care and helping him back up. The younger huffed a little, rolling his shoulders with his lips pressed into a firm line from the embarrassment. Poor kid. Even most of the grown hunters couldn’t match Neteyam. Not that Ao’nung was going to comfort him. Losing with grace wasn’t his strong suit either. At least… most of the time. ”Someone who fights differently can be a challenge when all you know is sparring with your fellow Metkayina Navi. You need to make sure your differences are your advantage and not your….weakness.” The mans tone changed, his pause coming when yellow sunset eyes met Ao’nungs and melting all his insides with the action. He couldn’t help but let himself get swept away by the strong current of this forest dweller, but who could really blame him? He was just on the outside of the cluster of warriors now, the younger Navi turning with Neteyams gaze to look. A couple of them averted their gazes, shuffling to make a little path for Ao’nung who had quite a bit of height on them. There were only a couple in the village taller than him at this point, even surpassing his father by just a bit. ”Ao’nung.”

Neteyam straightened his posture, giving a small nod in greeting with a knowing smirk. By Eywa his name never sounded so good. That sure and playful greeting with the confident fire flickering in the forest Navis eyes had his knees weak. ”I'm available if you needed an example, Karyu.” {teacher} He raised his arms with his offer, giving a small nod in return. There was a lightness to the air now, making him want to grin under the attention. The Omatikaya looked away with a small chuckle, shaking his head before letting out a deep breath. Ao’nung knew he wouldn’t deny him. He never did. ”Very well. It will be a good opportunity for them to see someone who can lose with dignity.” Ao’nung laughed, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms out with a flex of his fingers. ”I managed to pin you last time, Forest Boy. I think I'm due a little more credit then that.” Neteyam rolled his eyes, taking a couple steps back so they were far enough from the group of younger hunters to be that no one would get grazed or snagged by the long reaching swipes of Ao’nung. One teen with a bloody nose was enough. ”You’ll get more credit when you can keep me down for more than a couple seconds.” Despite his calm demeanor, Ao’nung could see it. The twitch and flick of Neteyams tail in anticipation, the way his intense gaze flitted around Ao’nung to take in his stance, anticipating and ever ready. He’s spent too long letting his gaze linger over the Forest Navi to mistake the signs by now. This was months of research at work. With a subject that just so happened to be pleasing to the eyes. Ao’nung readied himself, the two refusing to break eye contact as they circled their non-existent arena. The younger Navi around them spoke the occasional hushed bet or speculation, but mostly remained quiet in hopes of not missing anything. ”When you’re in a situation where hand to hand combat is your only option, you need to keep your eyes on the target. However, its important to be aware of your surroundings as well. In a life or death fight, no one cares about playing fair.” Neteyam spoke as they neared one another, and Ao’nung couldn’t help the small pang of irritation. Neteyam the dutiful teacher was present right now. And that’s not the side of Neteyam he wanted. He lunged forward, his lips twitching slightly at the urge to hiss at his opponent and bare his teeth. Neteyam stepped from his reach, ducking down to avoid the Metkayina's bulky arms. A long striped leg hooked behind his ankles, but he turned into the movement to step over and avoid eating sand. ”Trying to sweep me off my feet, ‘Teyam?” ”Well I have experience.”

Ao’nung couldn’t help the small snicker that left him, ducking down low as he tried to grapple Neteyam. Ao’nung knew his strengths. He’d been fighting and hunting for a long time now. He had size and weight to throw around. He could manage an occasional win if he could just get his hands on him. That was the hard part, and he was reminded of this when his fingers barely dragged against the skin of his opponents hip in passing. His fingertips ached to chase the sensation. Neteyam dipped from his arms, his legs stretching ridiculously low as he maneuvered away. A flick of his thin tail popped Ao’nung on the chest as he went. Focus Ao’nung. Not the time. Save thoughts of those long legs for later when you can do something about it. Ao’nung wasn’t slow, but Neteyam? Neteyam was so fucking fast. Especially on land. ”I told you not to get so sure of yourself, ‘Nung.” Neteyams smirk only fueled his energy, the thrum of their faux battle starting to itch beneath his skin. He turned on his heel to try and follow the Omatikayas movement, only succeeding only in throwing himself off balance and stumbling a couple steps forward before catching himself. ”If you are in a fight where your opponent is larger, out maneuvering them can be your only option. If you’re caught, you’re dead. You dodge until you cant anymore. Wear them down.”

Neteyam turned on his heel to face Ao’nung again as he spoke with stern infliction, the uptick in his breathing not going unnoticed by the Metkayina. ”Tiring me out hasn’t worked before, has it? I've got stamina. ” ”I’ve yet to see you use it in combat, Ma’kelku .” {My Home} Ao’nung could feel the warmth in his chest at the term, his ears drooping slightly even if his stance was still firm. His own endearments came freely, loud and possessive. Neteyams always came softly, between just the two of them. Private and overwhelming in all the best ways. Ao’nung should be grateful for it. Otherwise everyone in the village would know what a besotted fool Neteyam reduced him to with just a word. Words that pierced through the heart and into his soul. Neteyam darted forward himself this time without warning , ducking under another of Ao’nungs reflexive reaches to shove a shoulder into the muscle of his stomach. Ao’nung was startled, not having the time to grasp anywhere on his opponent before his feet left the ground and the most undignified squawk left his lips as he was thrown up and over Neteyams back, hitting the sand with a muted thud. ”Ah- ‘Teyam! You Skxwang!” {idiot} The teal man wheezed, but a large grin was still plastered on his face even with all his breath effectively knocked from his lungs. Neteyam extended his hand to help Ao’nung to his feet with a raise of his brows. ”Shall we go again?” ”Oh, Yawne, I can go as many times as you want.” {beloved} The sickly sweet tone had no place on his lips, pulled into a sly suggestive grin, taking the offered hand. Instead of pulling himself up however, he took the opportunity to use some of his weight and pull Neteyam down to him. He caught the trimmer man with his other arm, rolling to flip them over and setting his larger finned forearm to the scarred chest to press his opponent into the sand. Ao’nung could feel the heavy press of Neteyams chest against his as he fought for air, looking down at those wide eyes set in that striking angular face like he had a million times before. This is what he wanted. This is what he needed. Neteyam pressed against him, feeling his breath and his heartbeat. An assurance that he wasn’t going anywhere. Neteyams surprised gaze and startled laughter was cut short, falling into something softer as Ao’nung dragged a thumb over the raised skin on his chest gently. He brought a hand up to cover Ao’nungs, shaking his head. ” You’ll have to work with the unexpected. Learning one persons fighting style and how to combat it will not do you any favors. You could end up like me, stuck under a fool.”

Neteyam spoke firmly, but his eyes didn’t leave the larger Navi weighing him down. He let out a huff, rolling his eyes. Ao’nung breathed in a hushed tone between them, eyes lit with mirth.

”You know well this fool will do you plenty favors Ma‘Teyam.” Ao’nung knew better than to take that stern face for disinterest. The flick and drag of a tufted tail against his leg and the warmth that spread across that handsome face was plenty enough for him to preen. Unfortunately it was very short lived as those calloused blue hands that Ao’nung had foolishly not restrained pressed to his biceps, pushing them out and away. Ao’nung once again found himself flipping up and backwards when Neteyam used the movement to wedge his legs up and using both knees to send the Metkayina over his head.

The teal Navi gasped in surprise and delight, unable to stop the loud laughter as he hit the ground again, wheezing a little. The younger warriors around them were also startled, eyes wide as Neteyam pushed himself from the sand and wiped off the clinging grains with a sigh. A flush still rode high on his cheeks and Ao’nung was proud for the accomplishment. Flustering Neteyam was no easy task by any means. For anyone else. Ao’nung had this down to an art. Considering their mating ceremony was some years ago now, it wasn’t a surprise he knew how to get under the Omatikayas skin…Among other things. ”Alright. Stay down.”

Neteyam sighed, bending a leg to press his knee to Ao’nungs sternum and keep him in place. He didn’t bare down too roughly, but the pressure settled something in the larger Navi and he smiled, raising his hands in mock surrender not for the first time. ”I’ll stay under you for as long as you want, ‘Teyam.” He didn’t bother moving, rolling his eyes and looking over at the still watching teens with a nod.

“It will be high light soon, I’ll expect you all out here first thing tomorrow. Go start your chores. I'm sure you’ve all got things to do for your families.” There were calls and nods of farewell as they all slowly departed, eyes pointedly darting to where Neteyam had Ao’nung pinned under him and the content expression on his face. Neteyam finally set those eyes on him, and Ao’nung knew he possessed all his attention at last.

“You know I thought when we got older, you might become less insufferable, Ma’Nung. It must be so exhausting.” Neteyams braids hung like curtains from over his shoulders, the length they’d gained clicking just above Ao’nung’ face as he leaned forward over him. A dark striped hand came down to cup under his jaw, fingertips digging just a little into the soft skin of his cheeks and making his eyes flutter. His tone was playful and light, the smile accompanying it giving Ao’nung that pleasant knotted feeling in his stomach. The Teal Metkayina willingly titled his head up under the guidance of that touch, watching those heady yellow eyes drag down his throat to the braided choker of their own design. His courting gift now worn and weathered from the heated and hurried tugs of its wearer to welcome his mates teeth against the skin beneath. ”Patience was never a virtue of mine, yawne. You knew better.” {beloved} Neteyam let his grip relax, cupping the side of Ao’nungs face with a gentle thumb dragging against his lower lip to under his eye. Ao’nung pushed a kiss to his palm with a sly smile, bringing his larger hand up to rest over the forest Navi's own. Neteyam let his leg slide to the side so he was seated comfortably in his mates lap, leaning down to set his forehead against the others and speak in a rich tone. ”Hm. We should really move elsewhere. I don’t think anyone else should get to see how you unravel.” ”Eywa,’Teyam. Yes. Please.”

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erenspussy420 · 1 year

Text

Twst Android Au p4

Chapter: Scarabia and Owners

You stride out of Pomefiore halls with some snags of your clothes from the branches, plucking you to return to the androids you're totally not running from. You'd just rather get the move on of course. The phantom chirping of thuarmarks bills dance around your head, mocking you. The Owner follows after you, jogging in her kitten heels, the faint clicking of metal is soft, but you assume it to be whatever keys she has on her.

Out of the Pomefiore's painted hall and back to the center of the hall and towards the bright sunny hall of rolling sand dunes and bright skies. The magic of Twisted Wonderland is unique, gifted to plenty but not to everyone. Most like you have no magic but can still sense and use magic infused items sort of a consolation prize.

Magicians from hermit humans and boisterous ones, to the magical fae who ruled the spaces of darkness and lights, to the mermaids who from the warmest lf waters and chilliest of oceans floors can use it freely and make wonders. Wanders and wonders that leave you breathless and envious of what can be done.

And now the brilliance of Raven Works magicians and technicians whose androids have left you wanting ... .and earnest to see more than what your friends from college had shown you

Even the hall has its soft winds gracing the loose fabrics of your clothes, the rustle of the Owner's skirt, as she strides past you in the hall, waving her hand," And here my dear customer is the hall of Scarabia. Our models of the beautiful Scalding Sands. "

You nod as you watch the walls of the hall, have grains of sand fly in arcs, as you turn the corner of the hall, the head of the old Sultan's Palace, peeking over the green leaves of palm trees. You had to admit, Raven Works really do live up to its hype. At the end of the hall there are no heavy doors like Pomefiore androids had. There instead were large heavy red curtains open and tied by heavy braided tassels, soft longer fabrics strewn across the ceilings with floating glass candles. As you wonder in bright eyes, the Owner giggling as she follows you a little sing song tone.

"Beautiful right? The androids today in our display are just two. Two legacies of our Al-Asim and Viper collection. Now I see that question in your eyes," The owner tuts tuts as she guides you past the dancing fountain. You follow, amazed how so much can fit into this building, but once again magic has done its course."Why just two? But of course the Grand Vizier and the dear Sultan whom he served."

Soft scent of sandalwood and jasmine wafted across the room, soft smoke curling around your jaw. You let out a soft sigh feeling more relaxed when you left the Pomefiore hall.

Before you could even say anything, the Owner led you into a space where two glass cases stood erect, facing each other. Unlike Pomefiore androids, these two were kept at a distance. Throwing her hands out with a grand laugh,"Tah-dah~!"

An android with short white hair, tufts sticking out with gold sheen in his hair, stood under the sunlight filtering into the room. His clothes were a pallet of rich hues of red and gold, black making them more bright. Wrapped around his head a red turban-like headband with a red parrot's feathered edged with an azure blue. Gold round beads embroidered and dangled over the fabric, with red like gems that you dearly hope were fake– were sewn on. On its side, the headband tied into a large neat bow. The bow's tail was long, draping over the androids collar and shoulder like a scarf with gold stitches like hearts.

And that's just his head band. You haven't even gotten to his gold large earrings, his gold choker, gold so much on him or the white henna so carefully painted, stark against his skin. This android looked expensive and ornate, this…hm…

"Where is it," you murmur.

You peer down at the information plate next to the android. Kalim Al-Asim Unit. Oh, this was one of the legacies then. Looking up at him, he seemed to be as tall as the Riddle and Epel Units- short statured and wiry build. Unlike the fair skinned androids, you look back to the other and see he too like Kalim were darker skinned, a warm rich brown tone Kalim had compared to the other.

Looking over at Kalim, you noticed he seemed more…more…softer somehow. Where the other units do appear human and well crafted, but the Kalim Unit had this warmer feeling, more friendly which is weird seeing he is an android. More sweeter, the neutral set of his mouth curls at his lip. The shape of his eyes would be kind if you could see them open, you weren't much for eye contact but at this point you had the need to peer into them. The dark brown eyeshadow even brought out the shape of his eyes.

In the sunlight he glitters with his gold.

Breathing, you leaned back and waited for the Owner to start talking.

And waited.

And waited some more that you wondered where she went.

Taking a glance around you haven't yet heard the Owner say anything about the Kalim Unit. Glancing back again you see her look adoring the taller android standing in his case behind the curtains shade.

Oh right, the Owners bias.

'A real big fan then', You think as you come closer to it.

Taller, and much sharper features than Kalim's soft looks, the plate name read Jamil Viper Unit. His eye shadow is reddish in tone, and a mouth set firm. He was lean, with a muscular frame like that of a dancer with more definition in his arms. His clothes matched Kalims but a much shorter black vest with a hood than Kalim's longer tailed coat. And baggy black pants with red flames over their legs reminding you of your male cousin's obsession with flames on everything.

Snickering a bit, you look over at him and you have to give it to the Owner. He's beautiful in a more mysterious way. Where the Kalim Unit was warm and sweet, the Jamil Unit is more...cool like. His gold choker, and his dangling red gem earrings suit him, and are less ornate than Kalim's. Gold bangles and a snake like coil around his arm matching the gold tassels and bells in his hair.

And his hair, no wonder the Owner went on and on about it. Long black and silky, half the side of his hair was done in long braids that tied into a low ponytail and over his shoulders. His hair was longer than the Leona Unit's and much more sleek too.

Looking back to Kalim and then to Jamil, you compare how they were like night and day. More so than the other dorms. You felt a little bad comparing them but out of the other androids they were the only ones of their dorm.

Engrossed with your thoughts you didn't hear the familiar clicks of heels.

"Gorgeous right?" Came the voice in your ear.

Screeching you turn to the Owner with your hands thrown up ready to throw hands

"Stop that! I thought you were still drooling over the Viper Unit," you huffed.

"I finished!" The Owner admittedly easily, she looks over to you through her pink mask, her eyes round yellow dots,"So how do you like them?"

"Well I don't know anything about them yet," You tell her," You haven't even said a single word about them!"

The Owner looked at you blankly until she slapped her cheek in shock.

"Oh dear! Where did my mind go! Right, right, come with me!" The Owner heels click-click on the tiles back to Kalim with her hand slapping the glass.

"This cutie here comes from Al-Asim legacy, as I had said before, those androids tend to be more flashy and more financial oriented from saving and to investments, quite the money makers but please let it be known we here at Raven Works work tirelessly to make sure those are up to date," She said in a matter of fact tone, she leans close to you," however what makes them more famous as they are quite the grand party throwers around. If you hate the idea of creating one then leave it to your Kalim Unit, quite the ball of sunshine."

The Owner sounded fond of Kalim's android and tapped the glass more gently. Unlike you, she had her gloves on and winex at hand so she can touch as she likes. She then adds,"However with the Kalim unit, is more companion than planner if I'm honest. Quite the social butterfly like our Cater Unit."

However there was something that was bugging you."Isn't there a family like that in the Scalding Sands, Al-Asim's? I heard they're pretty rich, like real real rich."

You weren't even joking they could buy out islands and countries and still will never make a dent. Rich enough it would make anyone sick. The posts on Magicam from some particular members of such an elite family would make you weep as you open your bills for the month.

The Owner hums and makes a sort of noise that reminds you of a cat being forced against its will.

"Yes actually, however due to the android being simply an ... .inspiration, there is no connection to that of the Al-Asim’s. As are all of our Units, inspirations of past figures like our Great Seven. Anything that reminds of such is simply a likeness and not truly that person based on," the Owner answers in a tone that is rehearsed and nothing like her bubbly voice, oddly it sounds rather masculine.

Not that you were going to point it out.

"Riiight," you drawl, and change the subject by nodding to the Viper Unit," so uh what about him?"

The light in the Owner's eyes returns tenfold as she giggles and holds her cheeks. With a quick click of her heels, the faint noise of keys, the Owner claps the sides of the unit’s case with a loud squeal,” So this guy! This guy right here! One of our best bodyguards around!”

“Body guard?” You parroted, eyes wide as you look at the resting unit,”I thought all androids are like that?”

“Sadly, that’s not the case for most androids, while many are certified for human companionship and health, many are not made for the purpose of guarding or fighting. While it is a courtesy to all, your androids will protect you in extreme circumstances. Few androids have been certified for such positions such as the Rook Unit, the Leech Units, and our Jamil Unit here.”

Her white gloves touch over the glass again, a shimmer of magic gloss over the android,” As you can see, this unit is well guarded from theft as it is a very valuable unit. Not only does it have a guarding mode, but as well as a caretaker. Ever need a gorgeous house husband? Look no further, the Jamil Unit is the best around!”

“Best and expensive too,” You mutter.

“Exactly!” The Owner nods,” Well my dear customer this ends our tour, now if there is any android you have interest in-”

Whoa! You shake your head quickly at the Owner, shake your hands at her and you say,” Wait, I heard there are two more floors here! Can’t we see the other androids? You can’t just try to sell me a unit if you haven’t shown the others!”

No way at this point were you going to leave! There were two more fours and you knew that. Seeing so many units and the halls of the rooms, you didn’t want to leave yet. Not even if you had seen Vil, being so close to him sate your desire for now for the android, but the rest. The rest you want to see…

The Owner hums and touches her chin tapping it with her gloves in thought,”I don’t know if I can. My Boss would be so–”

‘Wait she isn’t the Owner?’ You were surprised but shook your head. Focus!

“But I want to see the others! Of course I be…uhhh….willing to take a loan,” You gritted the last words out with some pain.

The manager, downgraded from her reveal, still hesitates.

Then out of nowhere a loud gracious caw came from everywhere and nowhere. Boisterous and loud, dripping with a tone that triggers your past life.

“Dear precious customer! We at Raven Works would be so proud to make sure you are financially ready to take an android home today!” A loud bang and dark feathers in a whirl snap at the air, your arms holding up to shield your face as the air dies down. You slowly open your eyes, your hair a mess, taking in the sight before you a tall pale man dressed in a long dark feathered cloak. His dark wavy hair touches his jaw, his pointed low ears show his fae blood. The clack of his cane against the tiles, a bundle of mirrors on his dark slacks and even his dark top hat. But what brought you to him was his dotted yellow eyes peeking down at you from behind his long beaked mask.

You peeked over to the manager and saw she had bowed lowly to him. Her hands pressed down on her skirts as her hair threatened to topple out of its bun.

“Master Crowley, may I say how handsome you loo—oo…k,” her voice dulls and she stays like that still.

“H-Hey!” Concerned, you touched the manager’s back but immediately drew back your mouth gaping. Her body! It was hard as steel! Even the soft cloth of her dress didn’t hide the undeniable steel beneath it.

“Well! Well Customer! You seem to have gotten acquainted with our dear little manager unit,” The man dubbed Crowley, caws in delight his nails were decorated with golden talons as he brushes the fake hair of the manager fondly,”One of our earliest androids now retired. Quite the lively one but rest assured our newer lines are more warm! Life-like and as obedient as they could be!”

Your brows furrow as you look at your previous tour guide,”Uh, is…is she going to turn on again?”

“Hm? Oh yes, yes,” He waves his hand casually at the manager as he now turns to you with a delighted look,”Now I hear you want to see our newer lines! I’d be glad to show it to such a willing and dedicated owner such as yourself!”

He strides by you, not waiting for you to catch up as he leads out of Scarabia’s grand case room. You jogged after him, as he talked and talked about loans and interest rates and how long it would be for approval and of course choosing and delivery. You leave behind the grand room, and leave the androids behind.

#twst android au #android au #twisted wonderland #jamil x reader #Jamil Viper #twst jamil #kalim al asim #twst kalim x reader #Dire Crowley #reader insert #twisted wonderland au #twst

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flowers-for-the-grave · 2 years

Text

Siren Song

The Mean Gills were thriving. Martyn focussed on building his hourglass whilst Scott had built them a house. And now that it was done, and Scott was out gathering materials, he took the time to get used to the storage system. It was odd, to say the least. He couldn't make sense of it. Although he did have to admit that the chests were at least somewhat organised. Martyn would never admit that it took him a solid ten minutes to get used to the storage system. In hindsight that didn't seem like a long time, but since everyone had twenty-four hours to live, it was kind of humiliating. It was like having fifty days to live and spending one of them trying to make sense of something simple.

He'd just put some stuff away when he heard it. In the distance, a tad bit muffled, he could hear something. Singing?

"Drown me underwater, watch as I flounder~" the song was low and quiet, but it's hypnotic melody caused Martyn to drop the wood he'd been holding. Curiosity held him in a vice-like grip and it refused to let go. "I'll gasp for air, for your touch, for your lips and your hair~," The song continued, slowly building in volume. The voice singing was clearly used to it, as each note was perfect and rich.

"H-hello? Anyone there?" Martyn called out. Nothing. No response. But the song kept playing upon his ears and his ears alone.

"As you pull me up and kiss me, water fills my lungs, is this something you'd miss?" The voice was closer now. Or maybe Martyn had subconsciously gotten closer to it. But he felt compelled to find the source. He barely even noticed as he gradually lost land to tread on and began to dip his feet into the water...

"Who's there?" He asked aloud. But before he could hear an answer, Martyn realised that he'd fallen into the water. The warm water was comforting. It warmed his bones and enveloped him in its embrace. He didn't want to leave. Even though his clothes were soaked and he'd lost his sandals despite not having moved, even though the water was filling his lungs-

"And when you release me and hold me down, the water floods my body, flowing down, down, down~," He was closer now. Martyn ignored the rational part of his mind telling him to swim back up and abandon his quest. But he was determined. And that voice was far too tantalising to ignore. "Down into my lungs and I forget how to breathe, but I see your smiling face and I forget how to leave, you keep me here~" And so he swam. Martyn swam down further and further. He was close to the coral. In fact, he was just skimming the sand at the seabed. Still no sign of the voice.

Actually, maybe he was wrong. Martyn saw a faint silhouette of someone not too far from him. He swam towards them. His movements were sluggish, and more and more water filled his lungs. If he didn't resurface he would die soon.

But he made it. Somehow Martyn had managed to reach them. A figure with a human body, but fins on their arms and legs and one ginormous one on their back, along with webbed fingers and toes and gills in their neck. The mop of cyan hair was familiar. So were the patches of colourful coral that clung to their skin. The jacket that had been torn and was loosely tied around their waist. Shimmering teal scales decorated the merfolk's body. They glinted like gemstones in the warped light illuminating the sea. The figure continued to sing, and slowly Martyn began to recognise more and more things. The way they sang sounded familiar. So were the figure's gestures. And when they turned around, Martyn recognised them in an instant.

"Scott?" His own voice was garbled, and water flooded in through his mouth. but he couldn't help but ask. Martyn suddenly felt light-headed. The lack of oxygen was finally catching up to him.

---

Martyn woke up later. He was in his bed with Scott kneeling down besides him, fretting over his still but newly conscious body.

"Damnit, damnit, damnit! Goddamnit, Scott, why did you do that? If you hadn't opened your stupid mouth to sing then he'd be fine!" Scott cursed himself. Martyn groaned, and Scott's attention snapped over to him in an instant. "Martyn! Are you okay? Can you breathe? Oh my god I'm so happy you're alright-" Scott cut himself off by tightly hugging Martyn.

"Whoa, whoa, sl-slow down. G-gimme a sec..." Martyn sat up and rubbed the side of his head. Scott had put on some clothes, but now that he'd seen the gills and the fins, Martyn couldn't un-see it.

"I'm so sorry about that. It was dumb and I should've thought and-"

"Calm down, Scott. It's fine," He grunted mildly in pain and coughed. Water flew out and splattered onto his clothes. "Wh-when were you gonna tell me you were a..." He struggled to find the right word.

"Siren? Merfolk? I was going to tell you later today, but I guess you beat me to it. A-and I am really sorry about this."

"Don't worry. And besides," He paused and locked eyes with Scott, taking on a grin. "You have a nice voice. And the fins really suit you."

"O-oh." Scott's face was bright red with embarrassment. "And I'll warn you if I sing again. I don't want you trying to drown yourself a second time around."

"Sounds good to me."

#limited life smp #inthelittlewood #martyn inthelittlewood #scott smajor #dangthatsalongname #mean gills

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eluminium · 6 months

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SKIZZ WEEK 5!!! THE GRIND CONTINIUES!!!

How the fuck did this one GET SO LONG????? AND HOW DID I FINISH IT IN TIME??? IT'S A MIRACLE!!!! I probably won't be able to finish day 6 on time due to LIFE STUFF but TRUST ME I AM GOING TO GET THE DAYS I MISSED DONE.

As always: @skizzlemanweek is the goat for giving us all these prompts!

Prompt 5: Stars/Hearts

A serene desert night. Something surprisingly rare, but more common in solo worlds. The hostile mobs keep away while the passive and neutral have long since fallen asleep. Out in the endless dunes, nothing moves. A true quiet.

That quiet swiftly comes to an end when a man with tussled black and grey hair crawls out of his tent. A simple t-shirt and a pair of loose shorts cover his scarred body, very unlike his usual outfit of choice. In his grip is a ridiculously large bath towel and a thicker blanket as well as a lantern. His feet are bare of any dress, and he relishes the feeling of sand brushing against them. What he likes less is the sudden chill graciously given to him by the desert’s nightly winds. He quickly ties the blanket around him like a cape.

“Brrrr! I’m freezing my butt off! Kevin! Come out here!” He calls into the night. The previously still as a coffin tent bursts into activity as a “Woof!” erupts out of it. A medium-sized reddish-brown dog leaps out and bounces over to the man’s side. His tail wags like a metronome on steroids.

The man's hearty laugh soars over the desert dunes as he leans down to give his dog some TLC. “Who’s my big puppy? Who’s my favorite in the whole wide world? Who’s my Kevin Bubbles Malone Jimmy Madeye Dugan? Yes, you are! You are!” He coos as Kevin rolls around and coats his fur in sand. When the man stands back up, Kevin copies him. The dog takes a few steps before-

“No, boy, don’t!” He borderline begs, but it’s too late. Sand goes flying everywhere as Kevin rids himself of the coarse and itchy feeling.

“Augh! Bubbles! Bad dog! Now I got sand in my jibblets!” He pouts while trying to brush said sand off. Kevin tilts his head but otherwise continues to pant at him.

He sighs with frustration and fondness as he walks away from the tent. "I can't be mad at you for long, it's not fair" He grumbles as Kevin walks attentively by his side, sniffing the air in search of any stray mobs who would dare to show their faces. But the desert is still quiet. Only the steps of the man and his dog as well as the lonely winds echo through the landscape. They keep walking with a clear goal in mind, each step intentional.

Until the man spots his destination in the distance. A giant vaguely circular glass donut-looking thing. The moonlight reflects beautifully off its slightly wonky surface, casting the area around it in an ethereal glow. With a cheer the man breaks out into a run, his loyal Kevin right behind him barking up a storm.

"Here it is, Kevin! Our overnight home!" He explains excitedly while throwing the giant towel over his shoulder so he can summon a silk touch pickaxe from his inventory. With it, he breaks just a few blocks of glass and steps inside. Kevin jumps in after with no hesitation. With everyone accounted for, the hole disappears as he refiles it. He wastes no time getting to work by spreading the massive towel over the sand. It's big enough to take up most of the ground inside the glass donut. After that, he places down a few other supplies before he unties his blanket cape.

"Sleeping under the desert stars on a clear night has been a bucket list item for a while, dude. I can't believe I'm finally doing this!" He says as he lays down on the towel. However, a cringe crosses his face when he feels the packed sand against his back. "Ouch! I thought it would be softer!" He exclaims. His solution is to wiggle his body around and create an imprint of his body into the sand. It's better...but not by much. It's good enough for now though, and he calls over Kevin who happily snuggles up to him.

With no more distractions, the man turns his eyes to the sky. And what a sight it is. A massive tapestry of light and color upon an ink-black background greets him. Hundreds if not thousands of stars scattered across the sky in an undescribable dance. The moon, ever the overachiever, shines bright and full. The spectacle of the scene before him fills every bit of his body with childlike wonder. He almost feels out of breath, and he's just lying there!

"Woah..." He mumbles.

With a clumsy hand, he points toward six stars located near each other. "See that Kevin? That's the Pickaxe." His hand then moves towards seven new stars. "And that's the Universal Bell." For a last time, he points to a cluster. "And that's the Head of the Great Dragon."

Suddenly, a distant feeling of fear hits him. His hand falls back down to Earth, and a frown decorates his face. "We really are miniscule, huh Kevin? We're tiny, insignificant little ants in the face of the Universe. Isn't that crazy?" Maybe he's the crazy one for talking to his dog alone in the desert. Kevin, for his part, continues to snore.

"Nothing we do matters on that scale. We can create a million solo worlds, yet it won't even make a blip on the radar!" He continues, the slight fear building strength in his chest.

"It's so vast. Borderline infinite. And I'm just one player out of millions...Maybe one of them is looking up right now, thinking the same thing. Mathematically that's gotta be the case. A million's a big number, and there's probably even more than that..." This ramble has to stop if he wants to keep that existential crisis at bay. Because at this rate he's on the minecart heading to the stress station!

He sighs and refocuses his eyes on the sky. It glows back at him just as before.

"Maybe we gotta focus less on what we can influence in the big picture and more on what we can influence in the small picture." He says, trying to inject some optimism into his tone. "Maybe the only impact we really need to make is the impact on those around us. Friends, family, other loved ones..."

He looks down at his beloved canine companion sleeping next to him. A smile creeps up on his face. Even just looking at Kevin's peaceful mug makes a happiness bubble in him. He giggles to himself. "I guess you're doing great on that front, Bubbles," He pets Kevin's head carefully to not wake him up. Afterward, he looks back up in the sky.

"I could talk to my brothers more. Maybe invite Dop, Top, and Bop to do some silly challenges together. Or I could hit up Logic and get him to show me his newest duds. Maybe Pearlie Pop can help me build something for the fun!" Yeah! Yeah, that would be delightful! That would be great!

...Except that all of them are parts of servers he has no access to. And are also very busy. Well, that takes the wind out of his sails.

"Man, this sucks!" He pouts, trying to drown the genuine pang of loneliness with overdramatic sulking. But there's no one around to find it funny. His palm falls to his face.

"Dang it, Skizz!" Now he's just back in the sad. He shakes his head, this is not a productive mindset to have while alone in the desert under the infinite sky!

"You know what? They'll invite me to Hermitcraft next season. Then I'll have all the time in the world to hang out with my buddies!" He claims dramatically to bullshit his way out of this.

Then he stops.

Impulse is being cagey lately...Gem accidentally referred to him as a Hermit...Tango seems uncharacteristically excited about season 10...

Could it be?

A part of his mind screeches on instinct. Of course not! This hasn't been the first time he thought he was gonna get invited! And him? Hermitcraft? Yeah, sure. Like that would ever happen!

But, perhaps just this once, the other parts of his mind beat back those thoughts, and he gets to indulge in the possibility. Him on Hermicraft. With his friends. His brothers. And so many new people to get to know. A happy smile settles on his face at the thought. Wouldn't that be something? To have a proper home server again? Be able to look at the sky with those he loves the most.

With that scenario in his mind, the starry sky above him doesn't look nearly as beautifully intimidating. Because if he's with his friends, he's in the right place. His place.

Eager to quit while he's ahead and to prevent those doubting thoughts from making a comeback, he summons the final pieces of his glass donut stargazing sleep place thing. Some glass, and a pillow. The glass is quickly used to cover the ceiling so no spiders or sandstorms could ruin his nap. The pillow lands where the indent of his head is under the sand. Somehow, Kevin doesn't stir, still sleeping away peacefully. The man, now very tired, lays back down on his towel and cozied up in the thick blanket. He gives a quick kiss to his dog's head, mumbles a "good night" and passes out on the spot.

But before he sinks into the sweet comfy unconsciousness, a vague memory, almost a dream, comes to him. It's a fragment of something players can never fully remember, but they hold it dear all the same.

Does it know that we love it? That the universe is kind?

Sometimes, through the noise of its thoughts, it hears the universe, yes.

#skizzleman #skizz week 5 #skizz week #my writing #hermitfic #dose of skizz #I WILL COMPLETE THIS #I SWEAR #I SHALL DO SKIZZ WEEK #AND BE HAPPY ABOUT IT

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hornedadvance · 6 months

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Horned Advance

Chapter 0 - Prologue

I am a desert traveller. A vagrant. I travel across the arid pathways and dunes of the Psamathe Desert, looting corpses, hunting wildlife and trading with others that cross my path. I do not live an easy or fulfilling life, but the fact that I am living at all is a gift I would not dare neglect. In my life, there have been many trips to and from smaller towns in this desert, a gargantuan plane stretching 5 million kilometres in surface area. By now I am very experienced in trekking this merciless land, but many others could not say the same, with corpses, lost adventurers and tourists often rocking up in places they should never have been.

That day I had found myself stumbling across one such person, a small, young girl by her lonesome collapsed off the side of a central path. I knew not how she got there, what her intent was crossing this vast land alone, or even what kind of person she may have been. As a poor man myself, I was not one to care for others unnecessarily, as doing so may have resulted in my own demise if I was to be careless. This time however, was different. I was unsure why, but seeing that small, torn cloak laid over a barely breathing body I had felt compelled to help, even with my survivalist instincts firing off all chambers to do the opposite. 'I should loot her and be done with it.' I thought to myself, before taking a moment to reconcile with my humanity and conscience that I had begun to lose my grip on in these rough territories. She could have been a bandit, a murderer, or some other scorned fugitive- but some deep human element within me would not allow me to abandon yet another soul to these sands.

I found myself kneeling down by her side, shaking her gently to see if she was still sapient, aware. She lifted her head slowly and shakily to look in my direction and it was clear she was on her very last legs. Her lips were dry, torn and chapped and it was clear she hadn't gotten any water in far too long of a time. Sand had buried itself into every crevice of her face and it seemed she had long since resigned to dying here; this was until I had caught her eye, a sparkle of vitality returning as she had seen her chance to move forward. I offered her my spare leather canteen, a handful of bread and a hash of sun dried fish to get her back on her feet. The food was gone within moments, as I watched the life flow back into her pale cheeks beneath her rough hood. She never looked me in the eye directly, nor even showed any appreciation for what I'd done and for a moment I thought to regret my actions- had I made a mistake in giving what few supplies I had to this stranger? After a minute of silence and her staring me down like I was some sort of beast, she wiped her face and spoke up. 'Thank ye' She said, regaining composure, dusting herself off and standing up. She was about a foot shorter than me, a man of 6'6 stature, with a low voice, but clearly one of youth. She had clear burn marks on her front side from laying on searing sand, but it didn't seem to bother her much. 'I don't know why you came for me, but I would be dead without your help. Just another stray lost to the sands, I suppose.' She spoke, pulling her hood further forward in an effort to cover her face. 'T'was nothing. Any good man 'dve done the same.' I replied, in what was a blatant lie to the both of us. She was clearly trying to hide her identity now that she had come to, but doing so isn't easy in a face to face conversation. She had loose brown hair that hung down near her shoulders, with messy bangs covering her forehead. I could've sworn I had seen a glint of something dark but shiny adorning the side of her head when she had briefly faced me, but she didn't give me the time to ascertain what it may have been.

Just as fast as she had appeared in my story, she had left, with a humble thanks and a moment to gather herself, she had started walking off into the distance, without so much as a wave goodbye. The next settlement was miles away in that direction, and she seemed short on supplies herself, but she made no note to ask me for anything at all before setting off. Whatever had set her on this path, it seemed she was willing to chase it even if it meant her own demise. I briefly watched her walk unto the horizon, before turning back to my own path and heading on to Muvazani, the town of trade. I had been heading there to sell off wares that I had pilfered and gathered during my travels, before I stumbled across that unfortunate girl. Her odd name hung around in my mind for the rest of the trip until now. Just as she had turned to walk away from me I had asked her name and with a moment of hesitation she had uttered it under her voice. 'Palo.. My name is Palo.'

I knew not the significance of this name at the time, nor the meaning of the strange glimmer beneath her hood, but in future it would all become clear to me. In that moment I had met someone who would do unforeseen things to this humble world of ours.

Next Chapter

Link to All Chapters

#horned advance #creative writing #original work #original fiction #ocs #original characters #writing #fantasy #writers on tumblr

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inchesinbetweenus · 1 year

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cal kestis x fem!reader pt.2

It was hot, really hot. Of course, that's what you'd expect for Tatooine, but still, it wasn't entirely enjoyable. The sweltering sun was blocked by the ponchos and goggles that you and Cal wore as protection. It was quite convenient as it was not an odd sight for the locals, and they helped conceal your identities. Marching through the sand, stretching out for miles, you marveled at how brightly the sun was shining despite the early morning hours. Your hunt for a safe place to spar was going on for longer than you would've liked. You didn’t even want to be here in the first place, but Cal had grown increasingly more skilled in convincing you.

Boredom became evident as Cal looked over to find you staring at the sun, or at least you were attempting to. His eyes rolled and he lifted his arm as he brought his hand to cover your eyes.

"Don't do that, you're going to destroy your vision."

You looked over to find his eyes as Cal scolded you, only for him to try to do the same. The stinging feeling in his eyes caused him to wince immediately.

You, on the other hand, squinted at Cal upon his warning. "What else am I supposed to do?"

While you two journeyed, Cal had been suggesting this place he had seen from the Mantis. You had no idea where this was or what this place looked like, but Cal sounded excited about it so you couldn't say no.

Though nobody could miss the massive wreckage of a ship that lay half-buried in the sand. You hadn't seen it until the two of you got to the top of the next dune.

Your face displayed an incredulous expression as you finally caught sight of the ship's corpse. a large half dome-shaped piece of metal gave plenty of cool shade from the sun.

Standing atop the dune you glanced at the ginger that was standing next to you. As you locked eyes, childlike grins pulled at both of your lips.

The creases of your eyes wrinkled as you smiled.

"Loser has to trace the boundaries."

Not even a second later both you and your boyfriend were sprinting to the wreckage. Cal had the lead for a moment, but ultimately he stumbled allowing you to take the victory. Along with a lot of laughing.

You were bent over, holding your stomach, and leaning back on a spot on the ship. Completely dying of laughter.

Cal was walking towards you, having completely given up on the race. Sand covered his clothes and hair. He was also occasionally spitting out the bits of sand that managed to get into his mouth.

Because of the distance (and how quiet he was being), you could just barely hear him grumbling about it. You composed yourself enough to go over to the other Jedi.

"You think that's funny, huh?" Cal questioned before going immediately to a threat. "Say anything and I'll put sand down your poncho."

You giggled as you held your hands up in mock surrender. When you reached him you lifted your hand to his hair.

His usual style was now messy with loose strands falling in front of his face. The stunning red color was partially hidden by the tan of the sand. Giving him some help you tried to shake it out. He would have to wash up later, but that was probably already going to happen. From the harsh sun, the two of you were already sticky with sweat. Sparring would only worsen it.

Cal hummed out a small "thanks" as he shook out sand from his clothes. Once he was content with the sand mostly gone from his hair and clothes, Cal found a large pipe. Digging one end into the ground he began to trace a circular "arena" for the two of you. It wasn't entirely necessary, but it was fun to try and force someone out of the boundaries.

After a short while, Cal finished clearing out the scraps from the inside of the arena. You pushed yourself off the wall you were leaning on. The two of you met in the middle of the circle standing face to face.

"May the best Jedi win." Cal provoked, staring you down though, you weren't nearly phased.

You had done this before and had seen all the different kinds of looks Cal was capable of.

"I always do." Your reply rolled off your tongue. "Loser buys the winner food?"

The redhead nodded with a content smile, "Good thing I'm broke."

BD-1 let out a controlled beep signaling for the two of you to take your places. The routine was second nature, the set amount of paces while the two of you remained facing away from each other. The droid counted down from three and immediately your lightsabers were lit.

You dug your foot into the ground as you spun on your heel, kicking up sand as you did so. It gave you a perfect screen to get a good defensive position before you saw Cal clearing it up with the force. You used this chance to run through the window he created. No sand touched you, and Cal was currently occupied.

Your partner barely blocked your attack, his eyebrows lifted and eyes wide. You smirked at the expression, but with the clearer view of his eyes, you could see something.

It was a sparkle that you knew very well. He lit the other blade on his saber, using it as leverage to knock you off him.

The rest of the fight was incredibly balanced, both of you had grown and most of your spars ended in a draw due to time constraints. But today you didn't have that.

At least that's what you thought. Apparently, the universe had other plans.

The fight had been back and forth for about five minutes. Both of you were now dripping in sweat, but neither wanted to stop. That was until you heard a loud creaking sound coming from the wreckage. You were surprised, but Cal knew that sound all too well. Your partner let out a gasp and raced towards you along with BD-1.

A loud snap stung your ears followed by a large piece of the wreckage falling toward the three of you. Cal reacted quickly, thanking whatever Gods were out there that he practiced his force field. The wreckage bounced off it and eventually rested beside you.

You opened your eyes to see Cal protectively kneeling over you and BD-1. You and Cal were breathing heavily and when you eventually calmed down you started to speak.

"Maybe it's okay to say you win this time."

The Jedi immediately let out a laugh, letting himself fall forward. His head rested on your shoulder for a moment before he lifted back up to face you.

"I'm honored to have your blessing." His gaze was soft as he looked at you.

"EWWW" the expression of disgust rang around the once calm room. The culprit was your daughter who was now refusing to listen to the rest of your story.

"That's gross, Mama." Your four-year-old protested as you tried to defend it as innocent, but she clearly wasn't listening. [D/N] was absolutely done with whatever you had to say, and she wasn't afraid to voice her opinion. Very loudly at that. Which proceeded to wake, once peacefully sleeping, baby in your arms.

You rolled your eyes. Of course. Your attempt to keep [D/N] quiet during the trip to, you guessed it, Tatooine. She had very enthusiastically asked if you had ever been there, to which you began explaining some of the more entertaining events that happened during your last visit.

"It's perfectly normal, [D/N]." Despite knowing better, you tried to reason with the four-year-old. Sometimes you wished she didn't inherit the combination of her parents' sarcasm.

"No, it's gross." The little girl has your hair and eyes, her nose seemed to be a combination along with her lips and face shape. But the freckles that decorated her skin were obviously from her father. You were determined to not let them fade as Cal's had. Something your husband found adorable about you. In all honesty, he probably had a list of things hidden somewhere that you would accidentally stumble across later.

"But Amedda's Mommy and Daddy don't kiss each other every day, Mama."

Your face dropped into a deadpan as you found the immediate flaw in your daughter's argument. It seemed even her baby brother was amused by the horrible choice of defense. He shifted even in his restful nap to curl further into your chest. A few gurgles came from the baby, but nothing more after he found a comfortable spot.

"[D/N], Amedda's parents are divorced."

Silence.

A smirk curled your lips as you knew you had won. This was the point where Cal walked out of the bathroom, he casually walked over, blissfully ignorant of your conversations. It was quiet for a moment longer while Cal reached down to take [S/N] from your arms. The child, who looked like the perfect mixture of his parents with his dad's hair, cooed before slipping back into his nap in the comfort of his father's arms.

"Mama." Breaking the silence, your daughter raised a question towards you.

"Yes, baby?"

"What does divorce mean?"

Oh. That was the last thing you thought to hear from her mouth, but it was equally as unsurprising.

Cal, on the other hand, was utterly stunned. His face paled and his eyes widened. His eyebrows were knit together and the shock was almost palpable. "W-What did you say, [D/N]?"

The four-year-old quipped without missing a beat, "I said 'what does divorce mean', Daddy." The pure innocence in her voice sent you into a fit of laughter.

Hell, the whole situation made you burst out laughing, leaving your poor husband to try and piece things together.

"Why are we talking about divorce, [Y/N]?" Cal helplessly blinked at you as you were bent over trying to catch your breath. "I think I missed something."

Finally able to find the air to breathe again, you lifted yourself. Arms crossed over your abdomen which was cramping from the intense laughter.

You waved Cal down to sit next to you, to which he immediately complied. Still, quite confused. One of your hands reached up to your face, wiping one of the tears that formed from how hard you laughed. The other found its place on Cal's cheek. Pulling him closer to you as you leaned in to place a peck on his cheek.

The expression on his face almost made you erupt into another fit, but you held back. Cal leaned into the kiss, but with the confusion, he didn't fully commit.

Pulling back to face him, you finally explained to your husband what your daughter was talking about. "We were talking about Amedda's parents, dear."

The immediate relief on his face made it seem like you had just told him that Jaro Tapal came back from the dead. He shifted [S/N]'s weight to one of his arms, lifting the other to his own face. He pressed his face into his hands, trying to wash any residue of stress. At this point, he was going to have grey hair before Cere.

"That..." Cal took a deep breath before continuing, "makes sense actually."

You let out a chuckle to which Cal mimicked with one of his own. Afterwards, he leaned into your hand that still cupped his face.

"You don't actually think I would ever divorce you, do you?" You tilted your head as you asked the question. You knew Cal struggled with insecurities, everybody did, but you wanted to take any chance you could get to reassure him of your love.

"No~" Cal drew out the 'o' signalling that he wouldn't admit immediately.

You lifted an eyebrow to which he sighed.

"Maybe a little."

A soft laugh escaped your lips as you looked at your husband. [D/N] was completely distracted by her toys right now, and [S/N] was sleeping away like there was no tomorrow. It all seemed so perfect and you wondered how you ever got so lucky to live a life like this. Especially when you two really shouldn't even be alive right now.

The survivors guilt will always follow you, and often times it haunted the both of you even in your sleep. But that's why you should live. You and Cal were living for those who couldn't. For those who weren't allowed to. Many gave their lives for the chance for you to live, and you weren't going to take it for granted.

You and Cal continued to fight for the Jedi Order throughout your lives, you owed it to all the victims of Order 66. And you weren't going to let them down.

"I love you." Even now, those words made you feel like a school girl.

You smiled wide, "Show me."

Cal copied your smile while his hand found its place cupping your cheek, He slowly pulled you in, watching as your eyelashes fluttered when your eyes closed. Cal would be lying if he said he didn't still feel butterflies, even at this stage you were the most beautiful person he had ever met. Both inside and out, he truly loved you.

"Gladly."

🏷️ @koifish08

#cal kestis x reader #cal kestis #fem reader

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pangolinheart · 1 year

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FFXIVWrite 2023 DAY 21 - GRAVE

Tesleen's death was difficult for everyone at the Inn at Journey's Head, and it was especially difficult for Alisaie. Despite feeling shaken herself, Rhiki takes it upon herself to do something for both of her friends.

(I can't take any credit for this one! It was a suggestion by several people in the FFXIV OC Swap Discord channel! I really appreciate all of the help!)

Rating: Teen Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort Characters: Alisaie Leveilleur, Warrior of Light (Z'rhiki Irhi) Word Count: 2,124 Content Warnings: Mentions of character death, mentions of body horror

Z’rhiki’s face was damp. It was damp with sweat, from the perpetual heat of the day as Mord Souq’s unforgiving, ever-present sun loomed overhead; with condensation, rising out of the cauldron as steam and clinging to her face as she hovered over it; and with tears, still slipping down her cheeks. Frustrated, she groped blindly beside her for the dishrag. Finally catching it in her fingers after a few probing attempts, she used it for what felt like the twentieth time to violently scrub the moisture from her face until her skin burned from the friction. Sniffling, she discarded the scrap of cloth once more and leaned back over the pot to check its contents. Good color, good aroma, good consistency. After another similarly disorganized scrabble for her ladle, she dipped it into the stew and brought it back up to taste. She hoped the saltiness came from the added ingredients and wasn't just the residual taste of her own tears, but if it did, it was perfect. She carefully removed it from the cookfire and began the process of cleaning up her culinarian accoutrements. She focused on breathing deeply and allowed the methodical motions of wiping and re-packing her items, then of portioning out the stew, to calm her so that she could keep her composure upon returning to the Inn.

With her supplies stored, the waste discarded, and the stew in thermoses lining her satchel, there was nothing to do but begin the short trek back.

It took her a few minutes to locate Alisaie after reaching the camp and setting aside her gear. She found her off to the side, in the shade of one of the massive stone crags that sheltered the camp. She was sitting with her knees hugged loosely to her chest, staring plaintively at the sandy ground in front of her but somehow giving the impression that she was looking at something much further away. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and Rhiki could see the salty trails of drying tears. She was sure her own face looked not much better, skin stinging and irritated from both the blazing sun and her incessant rubbing. Alisaie was no longer crying (and might deny that she ever had been, despite the obvious evidence), but the distant stare wasn’t much of an improvement.

Rhiki crouched down beside her. She reached out and gently touched the girl’s shoulder, causing Alisaie to at last tear her eyes away from the sand and look up at her.

“How are you holding up?” Rhiki asked softly.

Alisaie must have suddenly remembered the tearstains on her face because she reached up to wipe them away with one of her sleeves. “I’m… I’m alright." She inhaled shakily. "I checked on the patients, I helped gather and wash linens, I changed sheets and bandages, I sorted the larder, I carried supplies, I chased off some scissorjaws – I’ve done everything there is to do!” Cracks were forming in her voice as she spoke, “And it’s still not enough! Not even close! How can it ever be, when…”

Rhiki nodded, understanding. The grief was always easier when there was something to do. It was always there, lurking in the periphery, but at least if you were busy you could keep it at a distance. When there was nothing left to do, though, it would catch right back up to you. Alisaie had been in a frenzy, doing chores and running errands, ever since they had arrived back at the Inn at Journey’s Head to deliver the news of what had ultimately become of Tesleen – that her soul had been set free, and that the eater that consumed her would no longer tarnish her memory. It was partly to keep busy, Rhiki knew; focusing on the ways she could help so that she didn’t have to think about all the ways she couldn’t. But she suspected it was also Alisaie’s way of making up for Tesleen’s absence. Tesleen had always been hard at work around the Inn, performing whatever tasks were asked of her with a smile. Neither of them could replicate the glow her presence brought to the camp, but perhaps they could lighten the workload, at least for a time.

They couldn’t stay forever, though, and Rhiki had known that, at her frenetic pace, Alisaie would sooner or later run out of duties to perform. In anticipation of that, she had assigned herself a duty. It was small, but she hoped that it might ease Alisaie’s heart a bit. Her friend cared so much, and hurt all the more for it. But she never let the hurt stop her from caring. She deserved to have someone care for her every once in a while.

“C’mon,” She said, giving Alisaie’s shoulder a pat. “I’ve got something to show you.”

“Can it wait? I’m not really in the mood.” Rhiki could understand that. She was exhausted; they both were. She was weary and heartsick and fraying at the edges. Which was why it couldn’t wait.

That, and the stew would get cold.

Rhiki shook her head. “No, it can’t. But it won’t take long, I promise.”

Alisaie regarded her warily, but seemed to recognize the earnestness in Rhiki’s voice and in her eyes, and sighed. “Alright, then. What is it you have to show me?”

Rhiki stood and extended a hand to Alisaie, helping her to her feet. She led her by that hand out of the encampment and around the Inn’s outer edge. The sun still raged overhead, the heat making the air around them shimmer and warp. Even with the loosely-packed sand slowing their progress, though, it was not a long walk.

Soon, they reached a peaceful stretch of sand from which one could clearly see the standing stones that formed the walls of the Inn. Rhiki slowed, then stopped, and Alisaie stopped with her. She released Alisaie’s hand, and looked at the girl as the girl looked at her meager creation.

“Rhiki, what have you…” Alisaie trailed off. Rhiki was immediately self-conscious about the jagged, flat-faced stone she had salvaged from one of the nearby Nabaath ruins. Oh gods. This had been a foolish idea, she thought. She had totally overstepped, and hadn't even done a very good job. Why had she ever thought she should show this to anyone, let alone Alisaie?

It was just a piece of crumbling wall, but it was the nicest piece she could find, with one of its surfaces still smooth enough to carve on. She had spent hours trying to chisel a message into it, which had left her pouring sweat, with cracked palms and a sharp ache in her back. She had made her very best effort but, not having the proper tools for engraving stone on hand, her inscription had ended up rather crude, with its letters inconsistently sized and spaced. Though it was hardly a masterpiece, she was happy it was at least legible. Alisaie confirmed this when she said:

“This is for Tesleen, isn’t it?”

Her eyes followed the path of the chisel across the stone’s face.

TESLEEN

WE ALL DESERVE HAPPINESS, WHEREVER WE CAN FIND IT

Rhiki nodded reluctantly. It was for Tesleen, the kind and caring soul who had made them stew on Rhiki’s first night in Ahm Arang. Who had brought comfort to so many in the last days, even the last moments of their lives. Who opened her heart to the patients of the Inn with the full knowledge that at the end of their stay she would have to help them embark on the next leg of their journey. Who would see them off with a smile and the taste of their favorite food.

It was for Tesleen, but it was also for Alisaie. Her dear friend. The girl who strove with all of her might to make a difference, even a small one. The girl who tried, and tried, and tried, and kept trying when others lost hope – because even if it was hopeless, it was still better to try. The girl who cared so much it hurt. The girl who had grabbed her hands in front of the Aftcastle in Limsa Lominsa and begged Rhiki not to leave her alone.

They both deserved so much better than a chipped hunk of stone with a sloppily carved message in the middle of the godsforsaken desert. They deserved better than anything she would ever be able to give them. But at least she could give them this, what little it was.

“I-I know it’s not very good! I tried really hard, but you know my handwriting is terrible, even on parchment! I know that she should have something nicer – and maybe one day, when we fix all of this, we can make something better!” She could feel her words start to catch in her throat. “I know it’s not a proper grave, but one of the other carers - Willfort, I think – said that she cared about this sort of thing – about giving people the chance to say their goodbyes. So I just thought….”

She could feel the hot tears starting to form under her eyes. Alisaie had her face turned away, towards the stone, but suddenly Rhiki saw her shoulders begin to shake. She grabbed Rhiki’s hand again and squeezed. Her long braid jerked back and forth as she shook her head fervently. “No, no it’s not- I just- I…” Alisaie took a deep breath and tried again, this time looking into Rhiki’s eyes, tears already sliding from the corners of her own, “I think she would like it.”

Rhiki grabbed Alisaie and pulled her into a firm hug, feeling her shudder as she tried and failed to contain a sob. She held her there, and after a moment Alisaie returned the hug. She buried her face against Rhiki to hide tears that now fell freely, and Rhiki reached up with one hand to stroke her hair soothingly, though she had to sniff to force back her own weeping. She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, only that she didn’t let go until Alisaie finally stilled, and eventually pulled away on her own. She looked like she was about to say something, but Rhiki spoke first.

“Here, I- It’s not just the stone. There’s something else.” She dropped her hands from where they had come to rest on Alisaie’s shoulders to open the flap of her satchel and pull out one of the metal thermoses she had stored there. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she carefully unscrewed the lid and placed the open container at the base of Tesleen’s memorial.

Alisaie was sniffling so much Rhiki doubted she could really smell anything, but she had obviously gotten a glimpse of the contents, because she almost laughed.

“Is that… stew?!”

Rhiki nodded again. “Yeah.”

“Rhiki do you have any idea how hot it is out here in the sun?” Alisaie’s voice teetered between laughter and more crying.

“I know!” Rhiki said, “But… I don’t know what Tesleen’s favorite food was. And this was what the three of us ate together when I first arrived… though it is a lot cooler in the shade…” She shook her head. “It’s a bit late now but… that’s what they do here, right? Send people on their way with the taste of happier days?”

This time it was Alisaie’s turn to nod, and her eyes welled up again as though she was about to lapse back into sobs.

“I brought some for us, too,” Rhiki continued hastily, fishing the additional thermoses out of the bag. “So, you know, we could share it. But you’re right, it’s scorching out here, so maybe we should just take it back to-“

Alisaie seized the soup and wrested it from her grip before she could finish. “No! I- I mean, you made it for us to share, didn’t you? So, l-let’s have a little of it here, shall we?”

“Okay.” Rhiki relented and took up her own container. “I, uh, forgot to bring forks or spoons, so you’ll just kinda have to….” She mimed tipping the thermos up as if to drink from it, and Alisaie laughed, though still had to pause to sniff the mucus from her sinuses. She did as Rhiki had indicated and tipped some of the stew into her mouth.

“Is it good?” Rhiki asked before she had even had enough time to chew, and had to wait for a reply.

After swallowing, Alisaie glanced back at her. “It’s great,” she said, taking a deep, quivering breath. “It’s perfect. All of it. Thank you Rhiki. Really, Thank you.”

Rhiki smiled fondly at her “It’s the least I could do. For either of you.”

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #shadwobringers spoilers #shadowbringers 5.0 spoilers #alisaie leveilleur #tesleen #rhiki tag #auggie writes #this prompt seemed so easy but it ended up being kind of difficult #because i'd already USED haurchefant's grave for something #and even if I used a different grave it still seemed hard to not just rehash that fic #and grave as in “serious and somber” is just... way too vague #so i had to crowdsource the idea for this one #hopefully it turned out well!

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noffy96 · 8 months

Text

SpicyHoney fic

Been a while since i wrote some Papyrus's. And now we get Edge and Stretch in the Mer Au. It's following events that happened in 'The Return' But i don't think it's required reading But anyway here we go

Secrets told.

Chapter Word count: 6600

Chapter 1/1 (Completed)

Summary:

“We don't have to go in if you ain't ready”

Edge's frown deepened as it had done every single time before this. Red eyes looking away from him. And he gently kept caressing his face as he gathered his thoughts.

He could see the two sides battle it out in those eyes. The part that wanted to tell what was going on, that longed to. And the other part, the scared part. The protective part for his older brother. The fear he was making a mistake.

He expected to see those eyes fill up with regret once more. But instead for the first time, their gaze met before a decision was reached.

Edge had a secret he wanted to share with his boyfriend. But doing so is not an easy Process. But Stretch is patient he is willing to take this walk a million times if it means his boyfriend trusts him. He just hopes it is enough

--link here to AO3--

or continue below the read more line

He stuck his arms out to keep his balance as he hopped from stone to stone. Being careful not to fall into the water. The wind was howling, as the autumn breeze was setting in. It was cold here, but they soon be around the corner and out of the wind.

He hopped off the last stone and leaned against the large rocks on the other side of the path, Staring at the trees above and seeing the wind shake their leaves loose. Before looking back the way he came to see how far his boyfriend was behind.

Edge was walking slowly, hands deep in his jacket pockets. Starting hard at the sand below. This had been the fourth time in two weeks they had come here. All three previous times they had eventually turned around. He didn’t know what his boyfriend wanted to show. But he knew it was important. But also that it was clearly very, very difficult.

And while he would rather be inside with this kind of weather. He doesn’t care if he has to keep walking this way every day. If it means his boyfriend trusts him. Edge was trying to tell him about a secret he had for years. One that he had been clear about having since the beginning of their relationship.

One that he had felt he could never be honest about. It had surprised him, sure. But the fact that Edge was so upfront with it. Well, that made him trust him. And Edge never had betrayed that trust. But something had shifted lately. And he had a feeling it had to do with Red.

It hadn’t been obvious immediately. It had slowly grown over time. When Red had gotten closer to a certain new skeleton that had rented the cabin on the beach on Solar Island. And he definitely noticed it when it was clear Red was having a huge crush on said new guy.

Sans was good to Red in his opinion. In all the years he had known him. He hadn’t seen Red such at ease with someone who wasn’t Edge. And now that they were together, even if they seemed to be doing their relationship long distance. Red seemed calmer and like something heavy had lifted from his shoulders.

And it was after that, that these trips had started. He had always assumed that the secret had something to do with the brother's past, as they didn’t talk about anything in their past. Espeasily childhood. Whatever had happened. Left both brothers scarred. He only saw a glimpse of Red’s hip scar once. But it was a nasty one.

Edge was covered in them too. Most prominently the two over his eye. He knew they came from two different fights. The bigger one of the two was the one he felt most guilty over. As it had made him pass out, which led to Red gaining his hip scar. The brother's past seemed awful at best. And to haunt them every single day.

He was happy with not knowing if it made Edge feel better. Edge was just as kind to his own secrets. But Edge knew most of his at this point, sparing a few details. That doesn’t mean he isn’t curious. Of course, he was. But his love’s comfort was more important.

Edge movement had slowed even more. His shoulders hinged high up, and stared down at his boots. They were sinking into the mud with every step. He was amazed Edge could walk on these slippery wet rocks with high heels. He gave a gentle smile as his boyfriend finally reached him. But Edge was still looking straight down, Red eyes staring hard like he could burn the stones beneath his feet. He doubted Edge had been paying attention where he had been walking at all. Just stuck with whatever thoughts were obviously plaguing his mind.

He straightened himself. There was a little cave up ahead. Which seemed to be their destination. He saw his boyfriend make eye contact with the entrance. Sucking in a large breath that was slowly released through closed teeth. Making a faint whistling sound.

And just like everything they had done before this Edge seemed to freeze up even more. And he wished he could know what was going on in that handsome head of his. Was it fear? Apprehension? Something else entirely?

Touching him when he was this tense would give him a fifty-fifty shot of getting a bone attack swung his way. But he wanted to do something.

Last time he had stepped too close and spooked his prickly lover. So now he only held out his hand. Edge's eyes snapped to the movement and when his gaze rested on his hands. He wriggled his fingers

“Come on babe, he’s lonely”

Edge snorted and immediately flushed at letting out such an undignified sound. But his equally cold hand grabbed on anyway

“Why did I need to fall for such a dork”

Despite Edge's still tense posture, it was said with a great amount of fondness. So he leaned closer and placed a quick kiss on his sharp cheekbone. Appreciating his boyfriend's eyeliner from up close in the process.

“Cause I am irresistible~ “

Edge shook his head fondly. The hand still holding his own squeezing softly. Eyes hardened once they looked towards the cave again.

Now that he was already holding his hand. He dares to press himself against his side. Trying to make it look like he was just trying to get warm. Instead of offering the comfort that his boyfriend was too stubborn to ask for.

From The Little side eye he got, the ruse hadn't worked. But to his surprise, they kept walking on anyway. They were out of the biting wind. But he kept close anyway.

Their paces slowing down a lot. But neither of them mentioned it. Every once in a while there was a distinct tremble running through Edge and he always soothingly ran his hand over his back after.

He decided to just talk his boyfriend's ear off about nothing important to try and calm both their nerves.

As he was talking about the difficulty he had defeated the boss in his latest game. They came to a stop again, and he trailed off as they were at the entrance of the cave. The farthest they had ever gotten.

Edge looked like he was lost in his mind again. He gently squeezed him but nothing. A gentle nudge. And still nothing.

“Love?”

Edge eyelights flickered a couple of times before looking down at him. There was a tiny unsure frown on his face. The fact that it was able to shine through with how high up his walls were spoke volumes.

He knew that what he was gonna do next would most likely turn them around again. But he couldn't help himself. He cupped his lover's cheek, pulling him in for a soft kiss. Saying as softly as he could

“We don't have to go in if you ain't ready”

Edge's frown deepened as it had done every single time before this. Red eyes looking away from him. And he gently kept caressing his face as he gathered his thoughts.

He expected to see those eyes fill up with regret once more. But instead for the first time, their gaze met before a decision was reached.

Edge’s socket widened as their eyes met. He didn't know what he was showing his love. Just trying to be as non-judgemental and open as possible. He was already so proud that they had gotten this far Edge’s eyes seemed to get a determined little sheen in them and he was pulled into a firm hug.

He quickly warped his arms around his boyfriend's torso as he was squeezed closer.

“I know”

It took him a few seconds to realise Edge was responding to his earlier question. And one hand rubbed firmly across his back. And he buried his face against his boyfriend's jacket. And Edge spoke up again.

“I know…but I wanna keep going”

Edge pulled away again and leaned down to kiss him. He melted into it quickly. It felt like it said ‘thank you’. And ended it with nuzzling their foreheads together affectionately.

It was such an innocent affectionate gesture. But it always made him smile just as bright as any kiss would.

Slowly they made their way into the cave that grew darker by the minute as the sun from the entrance faded away. He summoned a blue attack to at least see where they stepped. His grip on his lover's hand tightened, making sure not to lose him in the dark. As the walls around them grew damp.

As they turned a corner there seemed to come a blue-greenish glow coming from the end. He let out a soft gasp of surprise and moved a bit faster. Trying to come closer.

Edge let go of his hand as he moved forward and he immediately stopped and turned around. He wasn't able to see his lover's face clearly with just the light of his attack. And he feared that his excitement might have been a mistake.

“Go on, I will be right behind you”

If it had been any other time. His love for science and discovery would have made him nod and run off. Edge would have followed with a fond shake of the head.

But nothing about today was normal. But if he went back to how they were walking before Edge might take it as him thinking he was weak.

He didn't want that. But rushing off seemed a bad idea as well. Somehow a third idea managed to come to him just as those red eyes seemed to harden. As he walked backwards at a normal speed.

“Don't you wanna see my reaction? Just tell me when to turn around”

He got a soft glare as Edge knew he was being handled around his fears but seemed to not be able to deny him. As he followed him their gazes locked.

Every crunching step seemed to echo around them filling his nerves. but he trusted Edge with everything he had. He knew nothing bad would happen.

The room around them grew brighter and brighter and he was able to see his boyfriend's tense frame once more.

“Stop”

And he did and grinned as Edge walked up to him the last of the way. Edge stared past him before staring at his eyes again. The determination from before seemingly getting stronger. And if made his soul beat fast.

It seemed Edge was sticking with his decision and not turning back anymore. He really hoped so. So finally Edge can feel free of his burden. Whatever this was gonna be he knew that it was not gonna change his feelings for his boyfriend. He has been with him for a little over two years. And he was planning on making it many more.

Edge grabbed his wrist pulling his hands up and placing a soft kiss against them. And he tries not to flush.

“Do you trust me”

Edge whispered. And without missing a beat he replied

“With everything I got”

One corner twitched up. Fear was creeping in his love's eyes again but he kept going.

“I just need a moment. Can I trust you not to look, not until I tell you”

He wondered what Edge needed to do. But he'd do anything he needed.

“Of course. I'll close my eyes as well just to be safe”

Edge opened his mouth but seemed to think better of it, and questioned

“Can you promise not to look around no matter what you hear”

He frowned and Edge got a worried look. He twisted their hands so now he held onto his love’s wrist and gave his hands the same kind of kiss

“I…I wish I could, but I WILL turn around if the sounds make me think you are getting hurt…”

He trailed off and his love’s eyes had gone through several different emotions with his statement. But in the end, it settled on fond. Edge stepped closer and kissed him.

It made him let out a surprised gasp just before his teeth joined allowing Edge to slip his tongue in and firmly hold onto his waist. His own hands ended on his shoulders but just as his wits returned to him. His boyfriend pulled away from him with one last soft squeeze of his hips.

“Then Close your eyes”

And he did. Edge let out a shuddering breath and he felt one more kiss against his cheek. Hearing Edge walk past him. The heals crushed against the gravel before coming to a stop.

He hates that he was focusing on every sound his love made. Instead of patiently waiting. He tried to distract himself by focusing on any of the other noises.

The sound of dripping water from the walls. Some hitting rocks, others filling in puddles. Big and small. One of them seemed really big. He wondered if he could calculate how big it was on sound alone

The sound of a zipper echoed loudly. Was Edge taking off his shoes? Why would he? Unless maybe he thought he had to climb on something and it wasn't safe.

But he had seen his boyfriend walk even the Steepest of cliffsides in those heels. So unlikely. Then came more sound of the rustling of clothing. And he was growing a bit worried. But it didn't sound like he was in danger. After another minute or so the sounds stopped.

And it was silent. And as the silence continued he called out.

“Sugar?”

It was a nickname he used rarely. And it was a shame he couldn't see Edge’s handsome face flush so prettily as he said it. But it would convey his love and worry with just one word. He heard some bones rattle.

“Almost…just…”

There was another sharp exhale. And he stayed silent. Trying to keep his posture relaxed so that Edge could take the last step.

He heard something slide into some water. He wondered what Edge had put in. He was getting confused. But now that he had heard it. It was clear that some of the light he saw was from the water.

There was a faint sound. It was familiar. He hadn't heard it in years. And it was most likely something most people wouldn't pick up on. But he had heard it anytime his brother and he had gone to the ocean.

Any time they had decided to play by the reefs. As Blue dove into the water, taking him with him as the bubbles surrounded them. But he was probably mistaken. Caught in the moment of being in such a familiar space as they went to as children.

There was another moment of silence.

“You…can turn around”

Edge sounded further away than before. And he opened his eyes slowly getting adjusted to the light. And spinning around.

The first thing he noticed was the pile of neatly folded clothes placed on a dry rock. Edge heels standing next to them. And his soul beat faster.

But he couldn't see Edge even though this was where he had heard him go. He looked through the rest of the cave. It was filled with glittering blue and green stones. There was light from above peaking in through cracks hitting the water and the rocks reflecting all around.

And in the middle of the water was Edge. The water coming up to his collarbones. His eyes stared up at him intently, seemingly bracing.

And he saw why, as the water was clear enough to see what had changed. Edge legs had disappeared to be replaced with a beautiful red mer tail.

He had been right about the sound he released and kept staring at him in awe. Frozen in place

“Stretch..”

He must have been silent for a while. And hearing his boyfriend's confused voice shook him out of his frozen state.

Edge had one hand wrapped around his ribs. A self-comfort thing he had seen him do when he got really scared after a nightmare. He broke into a run and jumped into the water.

The water was cold but far from freezing.

“Stretch! “

But he quickly swam towards his boyfriend grabbing his shoulders the second he was near enough and firmly kissed him.

It had clearly surprised Edge by the way his mouth was still against his own. And they both sank under the water as Edge forgot to keep himself up. His hands came across his hips gliding over the scales. Smoothing them gently.

Hands came up to his bare ribs because his hoodie had filled with air and was floating up. He could feel the tremble of magic beneath his mouth. The shaky hands against his bones.

He pulled away and stared deeply into Edge's eyes. Whose eyesight had grown wide as saucers.

“Babe you look so beautiful!”

He pulled away staring down at his love's tail. Letting himself sink further as he soothed his hands over his scales

“They are still so shiny! Especially if you don’t swim much. They are almost as bright as your magic!”

He kicked his legs to swim around him.

“Oh, I never seen a dorsal fin shaped like that! It is so sharp…can I touch it? Ah, I probably shouldn't. I didn't see your scars sorry.”

He was absolutely mesmerized by his boyfriend's look. He was one of the most beautiful Mer he had ever seen.

“H-how?…what?”

Edge mumbled confused He kicked himself back upright. Holding onto his boyfriend's arms. Smiling back at Edge's bewildered face. And he gave a sheepish look back.

“Sorry, was that too much? I meant every word I swear. It has just been so long since I-”

“How….? are you doing…? this…?”

Edge interrupted him and he tilted his head not sure what he meant. Edge's hands squeezed at his arms.

“How…are your breathing?…how do you know what this is?…any of this…? I thought I would need to explain…but”

There was a worry in his voice. Like his mind couldn't comprehend what he was seeing. And he suddenly realised his last secret was coming out as well.

“My mom was a Mer”

He stated softly.

“Your…mom was…?”

Edge repeated and he saw the gears turning in his head.

“So you're…half mer?”

He gave a shrug

“probably less.. 'cause I can't transform like my brother could. But I can breathe underwater…to a certain extent. After a while, my chest starts to really hurt and I have to get some air.”

He rambled on as Edge's eyes widened and he gasped softly as he seemingly realised something.

“You're brother…he wasn't kidnapped…he was…”

He smiled sadly and gave a nod. Talking about his twin always made him sad. It always felt like some part of him was missing. He had told Edge what happened to him, the same way he told everyone else. A bit more detailed perhaps. But changing it the same always. Just like he promised his dad. Besides he wouldn’t want to risk anyone else having to through what he and his father did.

“Poached…it wasn’t a car that stopped by the road and grabbed my brother. But a fisherman's boat. My mom tried to stop them…but got caught as well. Doesn’t make the screams any different”

Edge’s look grew more mortified. Just like the first time he had told this story, even as he had changed the details.

“The proof of their deaths…”

He gave another grim nod.

“Records of the parts they had sold…and when we….”

He took in a shuddering breath and tried to continue.

“I…didn't lie about me and dad finding mom's…”

He trailed off choking as he tried to block out the image of his mom's body as they found it. His dad's anger and grief strike cries are something he could never forget.

Edge pulled him in a hug. Hand holding the back of his skull. A gentle kiss against his cheek.

“Hush…you don't have to explain further. I get it”

He held onto his boyfriend's ribs leaning into the hug. Then with a smile he gently nuzzled their foreheads together. Realising they had been using a mer tradition to show affection for years.

“I’m sorry for not telling you Edge. But after we found out what happened. My dad could hardly look at the ocean…let alone speak about it. I never forgot why they died. But…I swore to keep it secret for him. Just-”

Edge cut him off with a soft kiss.

“I get it…I'd be the biggest hypocrite for getting angry at you for that”

It was followed by another soft kiss. And his own eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh my fucking god. I am so sorry. We came here because this was your secret and now I have kept rambling on about mine. But just. I was so happy to see you like this. To share with you this part of my life I thought I had buried but had loved so much. I am doing it again I shut up now and-”

Edge's shoulders started shaking and his hands flailed up. Cupping his love’s cheeks ready to apologise. Only to realise that Edge was laughing not crying.

Two hands came to his own face gently caressing beneath his cheekbones.

“I knew you wouldn't judge me. But still, you always have a better reaction than I ever expect.”

His face flushed a dark orange at the words. And he gave an embarrassed chuckle. Gently pressing their foreheads together once more.

“I’m glad you’ve trusted me enough to show me”

He whispered his hands trailing back down to gently squeeze Edge’s shoulders again. It also made floating next to him much easier.

“It was never a matter of not trusting you…just..”

Edge let out a sigh

“Keeping a promise to Red?”

Edge's eyes shut and nodded.

“I understand his fear. He got hurt so much more than me. He had to fight at least 3 other Mer, if not more to keep us alive. I was passed out through most of it. But I still remember waking up with the pain in my skull. And Red was bleeding all over almost passing out trying to take care of me. And then afterwards having to carry him because of his injuries, everywhere we went until we found somewhere safe. And it wasn't like our lives had been easy before that. I…”

He trailed off. Clearly struggling with how much he wanted to tell. Probably painful to remember. And despite everything. Properly Still feeling like he was betraying part of Red's trust by telling him this at all.

He wondered if Edge felt guilty for even mildly enjoying his mer form if he did at all. Like he felt bad for wanting to go back and see part of the life Red had saved them from.

He nuzzled closer. Pressing a kiss against the scars that ran over his boyfriend's eyes.

“You don't gotta explain everything now. It can wait. The fact that you show me this is enough”

Edge frowned harder

“I can't just be like, this is what I am and not explain anything about why I kept it secret. That's… that's not fair, I should at least-”

He cut him off with another soft kiss

“As I keep telling you. You owe me nothing. Only tell me what you are comfortable with sharing with me.”

Edge was still frowning. And he smiled patiently at him. Leaning forward nuzzling their foreheads together.

“if you really wanna tell me something. You can share a happy memory. That's allowed too. Or maybe one you had to change the details off when speaking of it before”

Their eyes met again. His boyfriend still looked apprehensive but grateful. He took a look around. Seeming calmer and pulled him closer.

“I think I might have said about being obsessed with a waterpark as a child”

He nodded, resting his head on his love’s shoulders

“You have, Red had to always go after you for trying to get into the bigger kid's slides. I assume there was no waterpark”

Down below, Edge’s tail slowly curled around his ankle. And he likes the smooth feeling against his bones.

“There wasn't indeed. There was a grotto with a lot of fast currents. And he didn't like me playing in those”

He started laughing. The image of a younger Edge sneaking off was hilarious. And just tumbling through the currents with a big Grin was downright adorable.

“My brother tried to take me to such a place once but Mom stopped us. Said it was a dangerous place for a normal monster”

There was a kiss against his head along with an affectionate nuzzle.

“Sounds like a smart woman. I hate to admit that my brother was right about them being dangerous. But they were. And that's coming from someone who has the tail strength to fight them unlike you”

He playfully pushed against his boyfriend's chest.

“You calling me weak?”

He called out playfully. And his boyfriend's grin turned sharper showing off those beautiful canine teeth.

“Just lacking dearest”

The words dropped with mockery And he met the challenge head-on

“I am better at this than you'd think. You would have a hard time catching me”

Edge's eyebrow raised sceptically.

“You underestimating my hunting skills?”

He said with no real venom. And that made him wiggle free from his boyfriend's hold.

“Prove it”

He gave his boyfriend a little smirk before letting himself sink to the bottom of the pool. It clearly caught him off guard as it took a second before Edge sharply turned to launch after him.

He knew he would have nothing on his boyfriend on speed. But he was able to slip out of tight corners easily. Making his boyfriend forced to turn around and launch at him again.

And it was fun being hunted in the water, reminded him of playing with his brother. But while that had been playful.

This…this held the air of someone different. Something that was clinging to the back of his mind like he should know but didn't. But he was too busy egging on his boyfriend to pay much attention to it.

Wanting to keep those ruby-red eyes all for himself. Wanted that focus on him and him alone it was addicting.

But he couldn't keep evading him forever. Eventually, he was pinned against a large rock with a growl. And he surrendered in his hold.

Making those sharp eyes look so satisfied. Yet still so hungry. He titled his head aside without question, not even really thinking about it. Just knowing he wanted it.

Edge hangs still for a second longer before launching forward. And he felt sharp teeth dig into his bones. His head knocked back harshly against the rocks behind him with a moan.

His hands dug harshly into his lover's scapula. Even leaving thin scratches that he knew his boyfriend loved.

Edge's tail was rubbing and gliding against his hips and legs, so he warped them around him. Trapping him further against himself.

There was a growl of approval against his neck. And then he could give his bones give further under his love's mouth. He smelt the faint send of marrow when he was released.

Edge's tongue lapped against his new mark while his own hands kept gliding down between his tail and bones. Digging between scales, smoothing out others.

Just to fill him twist more against him. And his magic gave an interested stir. But the pressure on his chest was increasing. So with difficulty, he pulled his head back to look his lover in the eyes. And pointed up.

The glazed hungry look disappeared slowly and the arms that had been pinning him in place warped around him. Pulling him tight against Edge as he quickly swam up.

He had barely a second to enjoy the water rushing past them as they broke the surface and he launched into a coughing fit.

He was glad Edge was still holding him up as it kept going. He had to relearn how to surface properly. But for now enjoyed the soothing hands against his back. As Edge settled on the swallow end of water pulling him against himself.

It took a few minutes to get his heaving breaths under control. But once he managed still panting harshly he met his boyfriend's worried gaze below him.

He slid his knees on either side of his hips. Resting on his love's tail. And gently cupped his face and pulled him into a salty kiss. Holding nothing back pouring all the magic, feeling and whatever else he could into this one gesture.

Edge returned after a brief shocked second. Fingers dug into his neck as he was pulled down. Tongues slipping past each other into the other's mouth. The little sounds of grunts and moans between them.

All of it made his soul soar. He wanted to get closer. Run his hands over his boyfriend's body until he had investigated everything this new form had to over. He wanted those teeth on him marking him up as his own forever and ever. And return the favour.

He licked off some drops of water that fell from his love's jaw. Before leaving a kissing trail towards his neck. Shivering against the cold autumn air around them.

Edge pulled away suddenly staring at him wide-eyed. He wondered what got him so alarmed when he said.

“You jumped into the water fully clothed! You are gonna catch a cold!”

And he couldn't help himself as he burst out laughing. And his boyfriend glared at him.

“I am serious Stretch. You got no towel or anything. We are going home so you can get warm”

Laughs were still shaking his body. Leaning closer Whispering against his neck

“But you were keeping me hot~”

He saw his boyfriend's blush increase tenfold as it wasn't exactly a lie. And he was sure his lover could feel that by how pressed together they were.

But still, in the next second, he was lying on his back in the water. Edge's hands pinned his wrist down with a flush. Then surprisingly gently brushed their teeth together.

“Maybe next time” was whispered against them as Edge pulled away. And he felt himself melt. As Edge made his way towards his clothes.

He stared up dazed at the ceiling. Trying to block out the images of next time and dragging his boyfriend back into the water with him right this second.

Slowly he sat up, seeing his boyfriend towel himself off. Trying to get dry enough to transform back. And watching him brought a smile to his face.

He was lucky that he had gotten such a gorgeous monster all to himself. All his, and he was Edges. His hands trailed over the mark on his neck.

Still tender and hot. Oozing with lovingly possessive intent. A word came to him seemingly echoing from the back of his mind.

One that made his slightly flushed face turn another shade of orange.

Mate

His mind went over the last several minutes. And he blushed even darker. Had…had they unintentionally started a mating ritual? It got interrupted sure.

But had they? His hand trailed the mark again. It wasn't a claiming bite. He had felt his mom’s. There was a certain intent that was missing still.

But he knew he wouldn't have stopped it. Fuck his soul was doing flips just thinking about it. He would welcome it.

He was so dazed about it that he hadn't noticed Edge was done. Until he felt a cold hand against his forehead and stared at those beautiful legs before looking up. Edge was frowning

“We gotta get moving with his warm you are”

Edge murmed. The hands gently tugging on his shoulders to encourage him to stand up. Which he did, but did not speak as all he could do was stare.

Edge's eyes worryingly further as he stayed silent.

Grip tightening on his hands. And Edge started tugging him along. As they reached the dark part of the cave. He couldn't keep his mouth shut anymore

Repeating that single word that had been echoing in his mind.

“Mate…”

Edge stopped abruptly and he crashed into him. Nearly sending them both to the floor. But they remained upright. But as he was so close he warped his arms around his lover pulling him against his torso.

It was too dark to see anything. Could only feel his tense frame. And buried his head in his shoulder. His breath most likely fanning across Edge’s neck

They both stayed silent. Suddenly both were as tense as Edge had been before they entered. And with a trembling voice, he mumbled

“We almost…” be he couldn't continue

Just held his lover tighter. He didn't regret that it happened. Not a single bit. Maybe he was even kind of sad that it hadn’t been completed.

But they should talk. Right? They should? But neither of them did, they just held on. Slowly and carefully he felt Edge hand rest on top of his.

“I…was caught in the moment…i do-”

He squeezed tighter and cut him off before Edge could finish

“I do…want “

His eyes were closed, holding Edge tighter, hands trembling.

“I wish..you..”

Edge suddenly tried to pry his hands away and his soul sank. Until he felt those hands on his cheeks pulling him into another heated kiss in the dark. And he responded with a groan.

All the magic against him screamed a chorus of ‘yes yes yes’. And he met in kind until Edge wretched himself away once more

“We do it properly “

Edge growled against his mouth. He groaned in agreement. Pressing their teeth together once more with a searing kiss. He could feel himself grin stupidly as they pulled away

“I would love that.”

His soul was racing and his head was spinning. It felt like he was floating. This was something he never thought he could have Never even a distinct possibility. But now that it was within his grasp. He wanted it. He desperately wanted to call Edge his mate. His everything.

They have been together for two years. This would just prove it. And in a way that properly meant more to both of them than marriage could. As it signified the end of hiding.

Edge's arms were trembling ever so slightly. And he pulled him close once more. Embracing him tightly and he got the same tight grip in return.

After swaying in place for a few seconds. Edge stepped away and tugged him towards the entrance of the cave. And the only thing he could do was let himself be dragged along.

When the wind hit them again when they stepped out. he saw Edge suppress a shimmer. And he realised with his embrace he had left wet patches all across his boyfriend's front and back

He would have laughed if he hadn't been interrupted by a sneeze making Edge drag him back to their car faster.

He wasn't surprised at all when, from a distance, he saw Red standing right next to their car looking tense.

But his posture relaxed as they got closer. As Edge had pulled him close to himself to keep him from getting colder he couldn't tell the looks the brothers were sharing.

But by the time he reached him, Red wore his normal sharp carefree grin. Eyes lingering on the mark on his neck

“You had fun splashing around?”

He turned his face slightly. Kissing Edge’s cheek while keeping eye contact with Red.

“Immensely”

The eyes narrowed before nodding with approval. Before he opened the backseat door.

“Get your asses in there. “

Seemed Edge wanted to protest about Red driving his car. But one glare and raised eyebrow later. Both of them were in the backseat.

He shouldn't be surprised that a couple of towels were thrown their way after Red climbed in himself. But it did make his soul stutter for different reasons

Red trusted barely anyone. So he knew this one action was saying a lot. He laid his head on Edge's shoulders who quickly pulled him close kissing his forehead.

“Oi, No making out in the backseat”

Even without looking up, he could see Edge roll his eyes.

“You’re one to talk, focus on driving asshole”

He let out a quiet chuckle as things fell back into normalcy. He felt himself stare at Red. And he briefly wondered what his mer form looked like. But he doubted he would ever see it.

He wondered about Sans and the recent change in his and Red’s relationship. Had Red been found out? Was he like him or like them? It didn't really matter in the end.

He nuzzled closer to his lover. Eyes closing and mumbled

“I hope you wanna go back soon”

The hands holding him pulled him closer

“I do, I really do”

He smiled draping his arm across Edge's chest. Feeling the soft soul beat beneath his fingers. The seat belt was digging awkwardly against his hip but he didn't mind.

“I used to go to the coral reefs with my brother, think we could do that as well?”

It felt like Edge was trying to pull him onto his lap even with the seatbelts preventing him to.

“Whatever you want”

His hand sneaked up further trailing his boyfriend's collarbone once, twice and muttered softly

“You know what I want?”

He felt the heat above him rise. Especially when he gently pinched the bones.

“What did I just say about making out back there!”

He heard Red growl and he laughed opening one eye lazily meeting the older skeleton's eye in the rearview mirror.

He debated saying anything. But he doubted they would keep what they were playing on doing from Red’s noisy protectiveness for long. Besides Edge wanted to do it properly. He could at least hint at it.

“We ain't doing anything, just stating a claim for later”

Red eyes narrowed further. As they did every time he made a slightly dirty joke involving Edge. But Red’s eyes snapped to his brother as Edge let out a groan at his pun.

“It ain't even the same thing”

Edge mumbled and that was the reaction he hoped for as he saw Red’s eyes widen. Gaze Lingering on the mark on his neck with a different look than before. Before traffic stole his attention once more

He Saw a million questions happen behind those eyes. Reaching conclusions that he seemed confused by. But he stayed quiet. Closing his eyes once more and leaning into his boyfriend muttering softly

“Sorry, hope you don't mind”

“Not at all, like I said properly”

His smile brightened. Squeezing his boyfriend closer.

He was gonna enjoy their time here. Until he would most likely be bombarded with questions later.

For now, they both were gonna enjoy the surprisingly nice outcome of Edge’s secret

#undertale #underswap papyrus #underfell papyrus #spicyhoney #Stretch x Edge #us papyrus #uf papyrus #Edge x Stretch #noffys writings #noffys writing #mer au

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