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just-jordie-things · 6 months

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just like my crush - fushiguro megumi

word count: 3.8k warnings: swearing, reader is doped up from anesthesia summary: confessing that you have a crush on someone really isn't that hard. all it takes is anesthesia clouding your judgment. a/n: brought to you by my lovely nanami flowershop anon's beautiful brain !!!

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Injuries in this line work wasn’t unusual. Someone was always occupying Shoko’s little infirmary and keeping her busy. Nasty gashes, sprained wrists, broken bones- it was practically a part of the job description. No, it wasn’t pretty, but at least with a master of the Reverse Cursed Technique on site, the mishaps that came with assignments never lasted too long.

Because of this expectation, Megumi had never been put in a position where he worried over someone’s well being after an exorcism gone awry. He’d had life threatening wounds get healed more times than he could count on both hands, hell, Yuji lost a hand and got that back!

So why did he feel sick to his stomach when she took a bad hit during an assignment? Why did his throat close up too tight for him to explain the situation to the manager on the assignment? Or to Ieiri when he got her back to campus? Why was there a cold sweat racing down his spine, but his insides felt like they were on fire?

Despite all of Ieiri’s insisting that (y/n) was fine, that she’d gotten here just in time, that she was healed and would wake up at any time- likely without the memory of what happened- and that she would still be fine then… Megumi didn’t tear himself out of that room in the infirmary even once.

When she does wake up- two days and a couple hours later- he doesn’t look too good. He’d pale and he’s been bouncing his leg for so long it’s gone numb, but the relief that washes over him brings some color back to his face.

Her eyelashes flicker about a few times before she finally opens her eyes, but his attention is drawn to the way her hand twitches above the stark white sheets.

“Hey,” He murmurs, as quiet as he can stand to speak. He didn’t want to startle her, and he thinks that if she were to flinch back at him, he’d flinch too. “(y/n), you awake?” He asks when she doesn’t say anything right away.

Then her eyes finally find him, and with a hazy gloss over her blown pupils, she smiles. It’s slow, and so, so impaired, but it’s pretty nonetheless.

“Oh, wow,”

Her voice is strained, likely from not having been used for a couple days, but the light and breezy way in which she speaks is enough for him to know that her anesthetics haven’t worn off. The stoner-like smile also tipped him off pretty well, but Megumi’s sure now.

“You know who you look like?”

It’s not the question Megumi’s expecting, and his confusion is obvious in the way a tiny knot forms between his brows. He would’ve thought ‘where am I?’ or ‘what happened?’ would be in order, but maybe the anesthesia was more on top of her than he would’ve thought, so he hums in response and waits for her explanation. Surely she’ll have something silly to say, it wouldn’t be the first time she called him a sea urchin for his messy hair.

“You look jus’ like my crush” (y/n) half-slurs back. She tilted her head in his direction, trying to get a better look at him from where she was laying, but the rest of her body felt too heavy to move.

Megumi’s eyes widen, and before he can stop himself a small laugh comes out. Confusion, humor, and disbelief blend into the overwhelming relief in knowing that Ieiri hadn’t been lying to him to protect his feelings. (y/n) would be completely fine.

Maybe a little bit high, but still, completely fine.

Her shoulders shake in the slightest when she laughs in response to his own little chuckle, delighted purely by his reaction.

“I’m serious,” She mumbles out, eyes falling heavy for a minute the longer she stares at him. “And it’s a compliment too, b’cause he’s, like, really cute” “I didn’t know you were crushing on anyone” Megumi hums, leaning his elbows against the edge of her cot so that he could prop his chin in his hands. Amusement flickers in his eyes when her expression noticeably shifts. Her eyes widen and her lips part but no words come out. Was he actually making her nervous? Who the hell did he look like in her eyes right now that had her reacting like this?

Megumi can’t recall a time she’d ever talked to him about crushing on anyone. Nothing of the sort, not even a hint. And he’d definitely never seen the ruthless sorcerer appear so…

Well, she looked like a girl with a crush. A blush was forming on her cheeks the longer he held eye contact with her, and the way the corners of her mouth twitched and betrayed her as she tried to bite back a smile.

“Y-yeah, duh,” She stammers back at him with a sassy roll of her eyes. Megumi’s quick to push his hand against his mouth to stifle his laughter. “The point of a crush is it’s secret”

“So you’re not gonna tell me then?” He asks curiously.

She probably didn’t know it, but (y/l/n) (y/n) was the only person in the world that got to see the playful side of him. It was hard not to act on his intrigue, though. It was too entertaining to see her in this state… and the rapid beating of his heart in his ribcage made him ache to know more.

But she shakes her head against her pillow, sealing her lips shut to further prove her point. She’s still smiling, though, and she hasn’t torn her eyes off of his since she woke up.

“How’re you feeling, anyways?” Megumi decides to steer the topic back to one of more importance. “Anything hurt? Can I get you anything-?”

“Even your eyes are pretty like his,” She interrupts him, and then sighs as though this was a large inconvenience for her. “You must be related,” She says matter-of-factly.

He hopes that when the drugs wear off she doesn’t remember this moment, because Megumi knows his face is as red as a tomato with how fiery his skin feels. A nervous laugh bubbles out of him before he could choke it down, and her whole face lights up in response.

“You must not get compliments often, huh?” She teases in a slow drawl.

“I… I guess not,” He says, followed by more nervous laughter that happens against his will. “But thank you, (y/n). That’s very… kind”

He’s painfully awkward, and he knows that as soon as he leaves this room he’s going to overthink this entire interaction, but for now he tries to bask in the warmth that sparks from knowing she thinks he has pretty eyes. Or at least, she does when she’s so doped up she can’t quite focus on a conversation.

But at least she's obviously not in any pain. Megumi’s worries begin to melt away, but that might just be the work of her flattery.

“You’re welcome,” She grins back at him, but she just as soon furrows her brows and regards him curiously. Even after staring at him so shamelessly, she suddenly doesn’t appear to recognize him one bit. “I thought Megumi only had a sister, though”

It comes out in a mumble, and he’s sure that she’s talking to herself in her deluded state, but the rush of heat that floods his chest and shoots up his neck is nearly too much to bear.

She actually didn’t recognize him this whole time? Was she talking about him this whole time? Was the flattery not a drug-induced misconception and actually-?

Before he can settle on a question to ask her to clear his confusion, she’s settling back into her pillow and her eyes are falling shut. Megumi opens his mouth, ready to force out the first thing that comes to mind, but she drifts off almost immediately. Her chest rising and falling in slow, steady movements.

It felt like a cruel prank.

Now he was left sitting and gaping at her unconscious form. His heart is racing and his leg is bouncing again, and Megumi thinks he might be even more anxious for her to wake up this time.

He decides then and there that when she does, and when she’s of sound mind again, he’ll ask her about it. Because if she really did have a crush on him he’d have to finally get over his ridiculous anxiety and make a move. ___

A week after making a full recovery, (y/n) comes to the decision that if she wants Megumi to talk to her, she’ll just have to corner him.

She’s not sure why he hasn’t been talking to her- hence her cornering plan- but ever since her last assignment had gone awry and she’d been put on a minor hold, he’d been dodging her. And sure, Megumi wasn’t always the most sociable guy, but he was a friend and even if he didn’t feel like hanging out, he wouldn’t completely ghost her like this.

Of course she’d tried asking Yuji and Nobara about it, but they were a dead end. They’d been just as surprised as she was that he’d been avoiding her.

I thought you were best friends, Yuji had frowned at the idea of a falling out between his two friends that he cared about so much.

Maybe he realized you have a crush on him and pussied out, Nobara had cackled at the scenario, not feeling an ounce of worry that this weird bump wouldn’t get resolved.

Needless to say, (y/n) was quick to steer her investigation far away from them, before the blabbermouths could do what they do best and blab around the wrong people.

She corners him while doing laundry, of all things.

“Hey,”

And when she walks into the room while he’s tossing his freshly washed laundry into the dryer, Megumi hits his head on the lid when he swivels around in shock to see her there.

“Oh god, are you alright?”

“I’m fine- it’s fine,” He answers all too quickly, before she’s even finished her question. “I’m almost done with the washing machine”

(y/n) can’t help but chuckle a little bit, seeing as she wasn’t currently holding a basket of laundry, but Megumi’s already back to filling up the dryer. It appears every piece of clothing he tosses in is monochrome- mostly black, but a few gray pieces here and there. This shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it is a bit funny.

“I actually was looking for you,” She tells him, leaning against the doorframe. It’s half casual, and half to block his only escape. Megumi responds with a small hum, still putting all of his focus on moving the laundry. “Are you upset with me?”

The question has him swiveling again, finally giving her his undivided attention. It’s a bit unnerving, the way he straightens up and goes rigid as he stares back at her in bewilderment. She wants to be annoyed that he has the audacity to look confused when he was the one that had been avoiding her for days, but she gives him the benefit of the doubt

“Upset? No. No of course not” He answers, and his words are so certain, that she believes him straight away. But the small bit of truth doesn’t provide much relief.

“Then how come you’ve been dodging me?” She asks, unable to help her frown. What other reason could there be? If he’s not mad at something, why would act so flaky?

“I haven’t been dodging you”

“That’s a lie”

“It’s not?”

“It is,” She crosses her arms defensively. “You haven’t been answering your phone and you always have some excuse to not talk to me. Did I do something?”

“Not really”

He winces as soon as the answer leaves his mouth. It wasn’t like him to get so careless- but it also wasn’t like him to avoid her. Really, he was falling apart at the seams and trying quite desperately to appear as though everything was normal.

It wasn’t working. (y/n) could see the panic in his eyes as clear as day. Not to mention the way his lips twitched like he was holding back further explanation. She narrows her eyes as she studies him carefully.

“Not really?” She repeats his lame answer. “So sort of? So I did do something?”

Megumi’s certain that she chose to stand in the doorway so he couldn’t make an easy escape. Would it be immature to summon the rabbits?

“(y/n) it’s- it’s fine. It’s me, alright?” He’s not very convincing.

“So you did something?” Another question he doesn’t want to answer.

“No- just- not really- it was just-” He stammers, and then groans, tilting his head back and glaring at the fluorescent light hanging over him.

He recalls the way he’d sworn to himself that he’d talk to her about her little anesthesia-induced confession, and kicks himself now for cowering out of it. Megumi never really ran away from a challenge, even when he knew he was in over his head. But something about standing before her now and explaining how she’d inadvertently confessed to having a crush on him makes his heart beat out of sync and his throat go dry.

“Look I just don’t want things to be weird between us,” (y/n) sighs, giving up on interrogating him so heavily. “So just… whatever it is, can we talk about it?”

And he swoons, actually swoons. His knees physically feel weak and he has to resist the urge to let all of his muscles relax and sink towards the ground. It was so sweet, so considerate of her to want to mend the nonexistent conflict between them. Megumi didn’t think it was possible to like her more than he already did, but she had a knack for proving him wrong.

So with an anxious breath, he thinks screw it and just lets it out.

“Do you remember waking up and talking to me in the infirmary?”

Her brows furrow, giving him her answer, and then her features soften with realization.

“You visited me in the infirmary?” She asks, almost in a whisper. No, she didn’t remember, and no one had told her she’d had any visitors during her short stay there.

Megumi nods his head.

“Yeah, I… I stayed till you woke up. And you did, for a couple minutes anyways, but you were pretty out of it. Anesthesia and all” He explains.

She tries to rack her memory for any hazy glimpse of talking to Megumi in Shoko’s clinic, but nothing comes to mind. She feels a little guilty now, having forgotten so easily.

“Okay…” She trails off, waiting for the rest of his explanation. “So… something happened then?”

Megumi hesitates, his expression twisted in mild displeasure, like he just stubbed his toe or has to deliver an oral presentation. (y/n) tries to be patient, she really does, but the longer he draws this out the larger the pit in her stomach grows.

“Yeah,” The word comes out through a heavy breath, and he pauses for just a moment longer before admitting the last detail. “You… you sort of confessed that you have a crush on me”

“Oh,”

Relief settles into her bones, and then a spike of panic.

“Oh”

Her eyes are widening and her arms wrap tighter around herself, fingers digging into the sides of her ribs as if she could possibly ground herself with her anxiety reaching an all time high.

For fuck’s sake, she wasn’t this anxious when that Grade One tried to take a massive bite out of her body.

“You were really out of it, though,” Megumi says quickly. “You were just… high. You probably just couldn’t see or think straight-”

“No, I wasn’t just high,” She cuts him off with surprising calmness in her voice, and a short shake of her head. “I do. Have a crush on you, I mean. I didn’t… obviously I didn’t intend to tell you that, but, I guess high-me can’t keep a secret, so…”

She trails off with a bashful giggle that would have embarrassed her if she wasn’t already filled to the brim with embarrassment. Megumi’s lips part, but he doesn’t say anything. The corner of his mouth twitches a few times too, and still, he’s standing in bewildered silence before her.

It’s not that he didn’t believe her, he was eighty-five percent sure that she’d meant what she said while she was still under the influence of the anesthetics, but that fifteen percent of uncertainty was his paranoia getting the best of him. But now she was of sound mind, dead sober, and dead serious as she stared at him and awaited some sort of reaction.

No real reaction came, unless you counted the drumming of his fingers against his side, slow at first, but picking up speed the longer they both stood there and waited for the other to say something.

Megumi knows he should say something, and probably something along the lines of; well that’s a relief because I’m actually crushing on you so hard I don’t know what to do with myself… but unfortunately, he really didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Do I even want to know how badly I embarrassed myself?” (y/n) breaks the silence with a nervous but curious smile.

“You said I looked just like your crush,” He explained, heat flooding to his face as he recalled the other things she said. “It was actually the first thing you said when you woke up,”

She has to laugh at that a little, to which Megumi feels some of the tension in his shoulders disappear. The tension in the room also starts to thin out, much to his relief.

“Then you went on about how cute your crush was. And when I tried to ask how you were feeling, after, you know, surgery and all that, you ignored me and said…” He rubs the back of his neck, growing shy as he realized he was rambling and the subject matter already had his heart racing.

“Oh god… what?” (y/n) gasps, eyes widening, hoping she didn’t let out some dirty thought that she worked very hard to keep in the back of her mind.

“You said I had pretty eyes, and then you sorta let it slip that I was your crush, so I guess you didn’t realize you were talking to me the whole time… and then you passed back out”

She’s laughing again, but this time she covers her face with her hands in a pitiful attempt to hide her blush until it goes away. A small groan dies at the back of her throat. The second hand embarrassment from her past-inebriated-self was just too much.

After all this time she's done so well at keeping her feelings under wraps, of never letting it be known with a slip of tongue or lingering touch, only to tell him so brazenly while in a hospital cot… it was ridiculous.

“God… I’m so sorry, that’s… wow, that’s probably the most humiliating thing I’ve ever done” She starts off looking at him, but ends up muttering to herself and looks away, still overwhelmed by the mortification of it all.

A small smile graces Megumi’s face, and in a moment of being true to his word, he musters up the courage to speak up before she could walk away and pretend this didn’t happen.

“It was more cute than humiliating,” He tells her, and she peeks back up at him in soft surprise. “Maybe just a little embarrassing, just a little… but… still cute” His voice gets softer the longer she looks at him and he starts to lose the confidence he started out so strong with, but he still holds her gaze, hoping that she’ll know he means it.

“Cute?” She repeats in quiet disbelief. Megumi nods back at her with absolute certainty and sincerity.

He gives into another bout of a confidence boost and takes a few steps forward, closing some of the space between them. (y/n) practically scrambles to straighten up away from the doorframe, her shoulders squaring and her eyes widening as she watches him move towards her.

“And for what it’s worth, I think you have pretty eyes, too,”

It’s quieter than he intends, but his words are effective in replacing the nervous tension in the room with something much more palpable. The electricity buzzing between them was so thick they were practically choking on it.

(y/n) smiles, slow at first, processing the sudden compliment, and then all once. Every inch of her skin warmed from the sweet words, and she’s not sure she’s ever felt flattery like this before. She’s never taken a compliment so to heart, never known that she was going to go to sleep that night playing it over and over in her head.

Megumi’s eyes flicker between hers for a moment, admiring the way she lights up with delight before him, and then he opens his mouth again.

“They look just like my crush’s”

Her brows furrow and despite that feeling of embarrassment spiking in her chest again, the corner of her lips curl into a smirk that gives into a smile almost immediately after. Megumi’s clearly amused by this reaction, laughing to himself like he was so proud of his own tease.

“That’s so corny” She mutters, before stepping away from the doorway and closing the last bit of distance between them.

Despite his nerves he anticipates her movements, large hands finding purchase on her hips and practically yanking her the rest of the way that it takes to have her body against his. There’s no extra time for words before their lips crash fast. The kiss is surprisingly tender for how rushed their movements were, but it had them both melting into the other right away.

Her hands are gentle as they smooth over his shoulders before wrapping lightly at the nape of his neck. Her fingers poke into the dark strands of hair that hang there, and when she curls a few locks between her index and middle finger, he presses his lips against hers with a little more fervor.

Even once they part from one another, neither one goes very far. Gasping for air with lips still brushing each other’s, noses bumping, and hands still holding on tight all in the name of not putting an inch of distance between them.

Still no words are exchanged as they share a look before both glancing at the open doorway behind them. It doesn’t take verbal communication for Megumi to reach behind her to grab the door by the handle and swing it shut. The only sound that fills the room is the white noise buzzing from the dryer cycle, and the soft giggle that’s immediately suppressed by warm, inviting lips pressing against hers again.

___

a/n: thank u again my amazing nanami flowershop anon for this really fun idea. also i just love playful megumi. he's so cute n shy <3

xoxo ~ jordie

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throwaway-yandere · 6 months

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𝗖𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 [Yandere!Dottore/Reader]

a/n: this fic is 100% dedicated to @leftdestiny-posts and they would know just how much they had inspired me in this fic once they finished reading it HAHAHAHAH. P.S.: the classical songs mentioned are actual songs. Yes, the title is half a joke. Here's the spotify playlist if you're curious.

Unreliable Synopsis: You cannot remember your past, but your doctor has been with you every step of the way— and he's more than willing to spend some time with you outside the hospital. Still... did you always have pure white hair?

CW: yandere themes, light body horror, manipulation, its dottore, c'mon LOL.

Concert II "Tristezza Di Fine Anno", performed by the Morespoke Philharmonic with their conductor, Lady Columbina, began nearly an hour ago. And you had the fortune of hearing their songs for yourself.

The well-dressed crowd filled the seats, behaving in what was appropriate for their high station. It was fully booked. The music overwhelmingly masked anyone's breaths, if they had one to start with. Her program can be felt deep in the audience's bones. Rattling them in each sforzando before it lulls down through the sound of her handpicked musicians— with Lady Columbina as the lonesome soloist when the moment calls for it.

"This piece, Symphony No. 5 in C-Sharp Minor, is not Columbina's own making, she had failed to mention that," your company hummed. "This was by another composer who hid behind the name Safed. They were a self-fulling prophecy. Do you wish to know what they said about this piece?"

You said nothing as Zandik— Lord Dottore— stroked your unnaturally "white" hair.

"They said that nobody understood the piece and that they wish they could conduct the first performance five centuries after their death."

Zandik smiled.

"What say you? Do you think those words are true?"

Your company was a tall and thin man with artificially pale-ish skin and wavy blue hair. His eyes were reportedly bloodshot crimson, although you had not received proof of that in this lifetime. But, you were drawn to his deep ocean-like colors, and that was enough to keep you mildly complacent to his strange remarks.

Zandik is surprisingly a considerate man, but he must've brought you with him for a reason. He told you himself that the reason he brought you out of your prison-like hospital room was a mere experiment on his behalf. Paradigm-shifting consequences of his strange social experiments with you are likely to occur, and he cares not for its ethical debates. He won't ask for rhetorics; these to him are tangible outcomes and no questions will be entertained.

All except his.

"I think… "

The composition had a serene, slightly asymmetrical feel to it. You were certain this was Lady Columbina's creative liberties at play. Something about it did not capture its true authenticities. The show purported to narrate three stories: the first concerned a judge who had to find a loved one guilty; the second concerned a prince who drove their beloved into despair; and the final was a tale of a knight who disregarded his obligation to defend a loved one.

But it felt incomplete. As if there was a missing piece— a secret fourth act hiding between the notes and stage.

"A person can't completely mourn for something they would never experience," you told him. "But even so, if I were Safed, I'd feel like my effort would've been a waste."

His eyes remained trained on your hair as you spoke. Zandik seems to dislike it. Unlike his cells mixed with engineered nanomaterials, yours are uniquely… "natural". His hair has a color intensity, whereas yours was the presence of every color— as physics explained it.

"Something they would never experience…" Zandik repeated, tasting the words on his tongue— a smirk etched on his face as though it tasted like bitter irony.

You continued.

"I have a hunch that Safed put everything they worked hard on all their pieces because Lady Columbina wouldn't have performed it otherwise. Since all the songs on the concert's program are marketed as underappreciated compositions, I would… um… infer that they also questioned their works and ultimately themselves if it all had worth in the end. Hopeless for the lack of attention, they probably thought there's more hope if they lived in another generation."

You wanted to say, though you're not sure where this negativity came from, that they probably despised how their well-crafted works were ignored and their sloppy yet significantly more popular compositions angered them.

But you're not Safed. You don't want to put words in their mouth.

".... Hmm, an acceptable hypothesis— a decent one, even," whatever monotonous response Zandik wished to convey, his voice betrayed his grand satisfaction. "Yet I won't give you any confirmation."

"I know."

Zandik laughed.

"The next piece is Norn's Adagio for Strings Op. 11, before the closing Symphony No. 6, better known as Pathétique Symphony, in B Minor Op. 74."

You tilted your head innocently. "Pathetic?"

"Another piece by Safed. It's a Fontaine-translated title. It's originally named pateticheskaya, which meant passionate or emotional, not at all pitiable."

He crossed his arms, insulted as though he was the one who came up with the original title.

"Roughly half a millennium past, the masses attributed Safed's demise to the strains of their final composition, the so-called Pathétique, a mere nine days preceding their exit from this mortal coil. The prevailing narrative spouts a tale of a tragic surrender to the clutches of undiagnosed clinical depression. I find such simplicity in analysis rather pedestrian, wouldn't you agree?"

You took a while to process his inquiry before hesitantly nodding.

"I… I think so."

Zandik smiled.

It's hard to tell if it's genuine, especially when such a protruding mask hides his eyes. Should its existence vanish, you aren't certain you'd see a soul within his pupils either.

"Safed hated this piece, believing it should be cast aside and forgotten. They were living in the woodlands when they wrote it— and when they decided to live with their benefactor, it was suddenly difficult to tear them away from their work."

You nodded to cue that you were still listening.

"They have an incredibly deep connection with their works. One might say they see in tunes rather than color."

You nodded again.

"Your inclination towards a perpetual affirmation of propositions, presumably to veil any potential lacunae in your cognitive purview, does not escape me. It is, if I may be so bold, your agreement that conceals your specter of unfamiliarity, right?"

You rarely understand a word he says when he is in this passionate state. You just nod as if you knew.

"Adorable," Zandik chuckled.

His voice was chillingly low yet… comforting.

"Your sincerity constitutes an enchanting facet of your comportment."

He had to be teasing you.

"Although…" Zandik grabbed a few locks of your hair as though it was slimy and unpleasant— quickly retracting them with a disapproving tilt. "You could stand to utilize more (h/c) hair dyes. How is it conceivable that it has returned to white yet again?"

You opened your mouth but Zandik raised a finger.

"No. I am the scholar here. Do not answer."

You giggled. "Understood, Doctor."

He grinned, inadvertently showing off his pointed canines.

"What a good test subject you are, my dear (Y/n)."

Whether good was a subjective or objective assessment or not was up to interpretation.

The mid-concert intermission began, allowing Lady Columbina's pressured musicians a 20-minute sigh of relief. Zandik ushered you to the back where the Lady Harbinger reposed on a white sofa, her cheek brushing a visibly soft and cloud-like pillow. The bright backstage lighting made her seem ethereal.

She looked like heaven, but Zandik would argue that "(Y/n)" is the true epitome of the word.

"Greetings. As expected, you'd initiate conversation at the earliest convenience." She cooed. "You look younger today, Doctor."

"You know very well that I do not take that as a compliment, Columbina." Zandik scoffed. "How many times will we rehearse this canned script until it is a learned lesson?"

"Perhaps it shall end on the day you refrain yourself from recreating… perspectives."

"Since my encounter with the Dendro Archon, I have not revisited that notion."

Columbina's gentle smile dropped coldly. "You know that your segments are not what I am referring to."

You looked back and forth between the two. Each of them was a distinctively unique person and it's a challenge to take your eyes away from the other.

Hence, when you felt Lady Columbina's eyes on you, you shook and straightened yourself before bowing stiffly.

"G-Greetings, Lady Columbina!!!"

Her gentle smile resurfaced.

"Greetings to you as well, dear Safed."

You blinked.

Dottore clicked his tongue, and Columbina laughed softly.

"Apologies, I meant to say (Y/n)— that is the name you go by in this era of humanity, right?"

You'd rightfully claim that between the three of you, you were the most human. Zandik has his clones, Columbina's origins are of strict secrecy, and you are a mere amnesiac patient. But the way she addressed you was sounding awful like stripping you away with that sense of humane identity.

"Yes? I guess?"

Columbina delightedly buzzed in your reply. "(Y/n)— truly a lovely name. That must mean that you're very healthy! It warms my heart to hear that name again. The other ones had terribly dull names, but if the Doctor had given you this title, then it must mean his research is finally drawing to a close."

Her remarks made little sense. You know little about yourself and trust only the Doctor's judgment. Should you trust her words, then it must mean (Y/n) isn't your real name…

But… that doesn't seem right either.

"Not quite, the name deserves no celebration," Dottore replied happily. "I merely ran out of translations. Bianco, Wit, Bái— what else is there? Ancient Natlan?"

"Scientists truly make for terrible poets— Why not try Inazuman?" Columbina offered.

Those words must have had a heavy weight to them because Zandik pondered for much longer than expected.

"Hmm. I'll keep that in mind," Zandik muttered. "Although it is preferable it does not have to reach that point."

"May I ask why did you bring them here?" Columbina asked.

"It's a bit of an unconventional experiment, but I've been exploring how to elicit positive associations with certain stimuli. Exposing them to music as I accompany them should cause them to associate the emotional response it elicits with being around me." Dottore hummed. "It would be asinine to put them in a chaotic yet controlled environment such as a theme park. While a racing heart may be effective, I shouldn't risk a (Y/n)'s well-being by subjecting them to roller coasters."

"Are you sure you're not the scared one?" You asked cheekily. Zandik rolled his eyes.

She shook her head.

"What a roundabout way of saying you're taking them out on a concert date…"

Columbina looked at you once more.

"Oh, but (Y/n), you appear unwell, my dear…" she pointed at stage left. "Why don't you fix yourself up in the nearest restroom?"

Dottore raised an eyebrow, which made you want to decline Columbina.

"I'm r-really okay, Lady Colum—"

"I insist."

Columbina smiled wider. Her laced mask cast a gloomy shade on her visage.

You had no other choice.

"O… Okay."

The halls that led to the restroom were mostly empty. Perhaps it was due to Lady Columbina's performance that made them patiently await the next song.

But there was one young man you encountered along the way. He had blonde half-way braided hair and purple-ish eyes. You paid him no mind as he circled a small rectangular paper, likely the concert's ticket, between his fingers. However, within a second, that paper vanished.

You stopped in your tracks and looked at him curiously, wondering if your eyes played tricks. He laughed, noting your attention.

"Ah! Sorry," he cheerfully gestured a small wave. "Didn't mean to practice in public."

The blonde man approached you with a smile.

"You're #9805, right?"

Immediately, you both got on the wrong foot.

Your nose scrunched, "I prefer (Y/n)."

The man flinched. "Oh, yikes! I'm not making the best first impression— nice to meet you (Y/n)! I have something for you."

You thought he was handing you his concert ticket for a moment but when you took a good look, it was a grayscale brochure.

And a white tulip…

"Um…"

"Needless to say, I'm something of a—"

"Trickster?"

"Magician, but an astute guess nonetheless!" He laughed sheepishly. "I was waiting for you, I thought you wouldn't go to the restroom."

So, did Lady Columbina plan this?

You caressed the binding and skimmed through the pages. "What's this for?"

"Father said you might be interested in its contents," the young man said. "That's all."

You blinked.

"... Are you saying you missed out most of the concert just to hand me this?"

He laughed awkwardly again. "My dear sister says I have a habit of missing a hint of romanticism when it counts, so I guess today's just one of those moments."

"Did you not like the music?" You scoffed, temper rising.

"Did you hate the composition? Did you not understand the e-emotion behind the chords? Don't you understand just how d-disrespectful that was?!"

"Woah, woah, I didn't say any of that." His eyes widened.

He didn't expect your voice to crack.

"I'm so sorry if you're offended— are you one of the original composers?"

…

You took a deep breath.

… Why were you mad?

… Why did it feel like those songs mean more to you than meets the eye?

"Sorry, I just…" You shook your head. "I guess I'm not feeling well. Oh, no, I'm so SO sorry…"

An unknown part of you thrived to hear him praise the music. That same part pitied the composer who worked day and night to perfect their piece. It's an ugly voice, but it was sincere.

… What was wrong with you? Why did you suddenly lash out? What was going on?

"Oh, well there's no need to be sorry then." The blonde man took his hat off and bowed.

"Farewell, Mx. (Y/n)!" He grinned. "The greatest magician in all Teyvat will take his leave. Thank you for your time!"

With the sway of his dark cape, he disappeared.

You entered the restroom to wash your face. It didn't do much to soothe your nerves. The lingering dread for your strange emotional mood swing remained.

To distract yourself, you read through the article.

The Enigmatic Legacy of Composer Safed

In the annals of musical history, few figures emerge as enigmatic and hauntingly captivating as the orchestral composer, Safed. Born five centuries ago amidst the ancient woodlands of Sumeru, this ethereal musician seemingly materialized from Vanarama with no familial relations.

Huh… So it's about the one who wrote the previous compositions earlier.

No wonder that blonde man asked if you were one of the composers. He was being a smartass.

A Fiery Finale: The Pathétique Symphony

Legend has it that in their final act of emotional expression, Safed penned the "Pathétique Symphony," a composition so emotionally charged that, overwhelmed with disdain for their creation, they purportedly set ablaze their woodland home. Seeking solace and escape, Safed accepted the benevolent offer of a city-dwelling benefactor.

…

Safed… burned down their house?

No…

No, that's not how you remembered that.

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

That's not what happened. "Safed" didn't burn their house down.

Suddenly, you stilled. Your thoughts ran wild, but your inner rationale tried to force them to a halt. This peak in anxiety did not make sense.

… Why would an amnesiac like you know what happened?

A Swansong: Il Dottore's Beneficence

Their benefactor, now celebrated as our Lord Harbinger, Il Dottore, welcomed Safed into the city's heart. It was here that the truth unfolded: Safed had been grappling with hearing loss for years, an affliction that fueled their artistic brilliance yet cloaked them in a muffled world. They were unaware of their disability, yet thrived in their field.

…

Wait…

Before you began to read the final paragraph in Safed's brochure, you hurriedly went back to Dottore and the composer's vintage photographed portraits.

After seeing their face, you dropped the brochure in the restroom's sink.

You saw their face.

You saw YOUR face and Zandik's.

But not quite. That was you, but at the same time, it wasn't. Zandik looked stiff in those photos with "you", likely a product of the time since Kamera photography was used only in rare formalities that required a bit of dress up. But the "you" you saw was sickly way beyond the formal costumes. They had (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair, but yours were all white.

White…

Safed… That's the Sumeru translation for white, isn't it?

Bianco, Wit, Bái— they're all translations for "white", aren't they? And if Dottore and Columbina's earlier conversations were to go by, the one after you would be named Shiro.

…

The one… after you?

"Tut tut."

You trembled at the familiar sound.

You slowly turned your head around and there he was, leaning against the restroom door.

"You were in the restroom for too long. It appears my suspicions were not unfounded."

Without waiting for a response, he approached with large strides. His gloved hands seized your stressed shoulders. The grip tightened harshly as he forced you to meet his intense gaze. Blood trailed from the corner of your mouth, and your anxiety heightened. He angrily bared his sharp teeth as he watched it stain his gloves.

And yet Zandik looks…

Sad.

And distressed.

He pressed his earpiece.

"Test Subject #9805 exhibits troubling symptoms. Hematemesis suggests a severe physiological response. Persistent manifestations of albinism in ocular and follicular pigmentation indicate underlying deformities. Immediate isolation is warranted for the researcher and subject's well-being."

His hand was cold. Skin imbued with silver nanomaterials after several operations, reminiscent of the age-old philosophical question: "Is it still the same ship if you gradually replace all of its parts?"

Then Zandik did something unexpected.

He dropped his hold and you prepared yourself by shutting your eyes as he swung his arm.

To hug you.

"I'm sorry, I have failed you again, (Y/n)," Zandik muttered. "I should not have raised my expectations."

"W… What? Why are you putting me in isolation?" You asked, rattled. "What have I done?! I just— I didn't do anything wrong! What did I—"

He shifted, dragging your arm to hug him back as though you were a little girl's doll. Zandik rested his head on your shoulder, shaking slightly.

"In your innocence, no fault lies. I thought I had accomplished what I had set out to do, and met unfulfilled expectations" Zandik gritted his teeth, voice somber. "Despite centuries of refinement, it appears that I still have room for improvement in perfecting the process… I was right. This deserves no celebration."

The doctor laughed sadly.

"When will I ever be proven wrong?" He asked himself as he wiped the blood off the corner of your lips.

He pulled away, pecking your forehead.

"I'm sorry."

Those were not the words you expected from his mouth, and yet you heard it more than once. I'm sorry. It does not fit his character, nor does the tender yet cold hug he had given prior.

You're scared. You're terrified. You know what was bound to come. You know what awaits you. White walls. Silence. Separation.

Solitary.

Far from a choice. Far from negotiable.

There's no amnesty.

And yet, the words flowed from you naturally.

"... I forgive you."

You have no idea why you said what you said. There's no certainty that you believed your own words. Zandik's lip twitched downward.

"You should not," Zandik croaked. "Why? Why must you always forgive and accept my selfishness? Do you derive satisfaction in seeing me in this state?!"

You opened your mouth to answer but were stopped abruptly as he grabbed your hair.

Zandik had always favored you compared to other patients. You know this very well. He's an evil man and the list of actions he had done that had harmed you in the name of science is at least two pages long upon your awakening. Yet, you were sure he liked you enough for he told you of his new exciting experiments. He scolded you when you left his research institute for fresh air. And he would hold your hand whenever you dreaded those thick injections.

You just didn't know he had it in him to fold from his intimidating facade just to kiss you like a desperate man.

Breathless under his control, he softly pressed his lips against yours. His lips were chapped and cold, and he took you in gently as though he'd break you. Zandik, as strange as it was, still seemed to prioritize your comfort over his needs. Normally, this tension would've made him so short-tempered. But this will be your last interaction. The doctor tasted your blood in his mouth, and he was nauseous at the thought of hurting you more. But he stopped. Even though he wishes to force all his pent-up desires onto you. Even though he wanted to love you thoroughly that you'd forget your name again.

Zandik whimpered quietly as he pulled away— sounding like a dog that would not sleep that night. What was left in between was a thin disappearing line of saliva and blood that quickly broke off.

The doctor should be happy he finally got to have a proper date with you after 9805 failed attempts.

But he's not content.

He was about to lean in for the second time but stopped himself. Selfish. To think he nearly saw you two finally walking down the aisle. Why was he always so selfish when it came to you? But those rhetorics mattered not in your head.

You were silenced. You were held.

You were loved.

"No." Zandik breathed in, laughing humorlessly. "No— I am the scholar here. Don't answer."

And you will be disposed of.

"Take them away." He spoke to his men calmly. They had entered long enough to witness what he had done. The men did not hesitate to grab you, thinking Dottore thought you no more than a mere toy.

But calm was deceptive. It does not convey the distress that chokes him.

Maybe…

Maybe in the 9806's trial… he'll have you as he always wanted.

The Fatuus that escorted you in was gentle. A silent guide. The expression on her face was clear that she wanted to extend her apologies as well but mustn't.

You already have a white tulip in hand.

Arlecchino already sended her regards in advance.

When she opened the door by tapping a card against the lock, she bowed her head. You let yourself enter without a fight. The room was pure white with the rest of the furniture matching the drapes. But Dottore didn't just provide the necessities. There were books, sketch pads, and other recreational materials.

As you were about to approach the center, something was off on both sides.

You looked to your left.

Two clear mirrors divided your room from the others. There's a sign on the left wall. Code #4135.

You stood, shocked, grieving at the sight of your predecessor. They were a mirror of you but with a different name— and an even worse state.

One had made a slight sound coming off their skin— rotting slightly. There's a tube connected to their mouth and you could see yourself— you could see them dripping. They had your face. Their hair and eyes were white. The nose was gone, leaving a gaping hole. Their neck was cricked back at an unnatural angle. You don't know if they're still breathing. They're still bleeding. They must've bitten off their tongue.

There's a lone white blanket that covers the rest of them.

You think they might be dead.

You think "you" might've died more than once.

THUD!

You jolted at the sound coming from the wall behind you. Upon seeing their body, you froze.

Code #032.

They were but a head. You wish you could only focus on that aspect, but you looked lower and your hair raised. They cannot feel the same, for they were almost only a spine left. The rest of them were their skeletal frame, guided by thin lines one can barely call flesh.

Their head banged against the mirror. The thought that the sound was what made you flinch earlier made you unwell.

They seem to be telling you something. Their breath fogged up the glass and their thinned white hair splayed across your view. Their mouth said something urgently you couldn't comprehend because their tongue was paper-like in size.

#032 was shaking. Their pain grew vivid in every movement that the room was starting to spin. You sensed their turmoil.

They looked like death.

You all looked like death itself, both the pretty and ugly ends of it.

"Don't." You whispered, begging as you knelt to their level. "You don't have to speak."

You laughed deprecatingly.

"We're not the scholar here. He is."

In every syllable, you saw the outline of their esophagus strain. The nerves were blueish purple. The little skin they have left on their cheeks is sunken. Their lips were gnawed, likely as a response to the pain they'd gone through previously. Fists of bone tapped against the glass, and you quivered, imagining their pain.

You were not afraid of them. You only mourned their anguish. In fact, you feel at ease to be in the presence of yourself from the past.

It reminded you of what "Safed" had allegedly spoken years ago.

Nobody understood the pieces you made and you wished you could conduct the first performance five centuries after your first death.

And now, here you are.

Seeing two "people" who do understand you.

And they share your face.

"Pathetically", the only one that can understand you is yourself.

You're all flies trapped in a web that the predator refuses to wrap and consume out of pity. Compared to the others, you looked fine.

But your lungs were blistering.

Despite their deathly ill and mutilated bodies, you were the one bound to die soon enough.

His experiments worked.

You love him.

You love Zandik.

And how tragic it was that the person who learned how to love him was doomed to perish.

In your last minutes, you recalled something vital:

As an outsider, your body was not meant for this world, but after encountering the woodland creatures and Zandik, it became tremendously difficult to part ways with it.

You coughed up yet again with a gentle smile on your face. Maybe you're not dying…

Maybe you're just returning home, for every atom in your multiple bodies was once part of the galaxy.

You are (Y/n) (L/n).

And you were not from Teyvat.

Much like the rest of the descenders, you have a quirk about you that sets you apart from the norm. For the travelers the world reveres today, it was their distinct determination and questionable age that was remarkable. Yours slightly titters to an inhuman level.

You can "clone" yourself.

Zandik and the "original" you wouldn't phrase it in that manner, but it's the easiest way to describe your talents.

"So, it is cloning." Zandik paused. "Mind letting me in on the science behind the process?"

He was an ordinary student when you both met. Far from a doctor, but at least he was a registered scholar in the Akademiya. Zandik didn't have an eloquent tongue as he does in the present, yet his curiosity burned all the same.

Which is why, back then, you thought his questions were cute.

Not dangerous.

"It's not that I can make copies of myself without consequences," you humored with a grin. "I'm just making… fragments of myself. Segments, if you prefer to call it that. It's a common ability for the people back in my world. None of us do it excessively— especially since we're kind of an invasive species."

Zandik raised an eyebrow, "is that a commendable trait?"

"My kind says so. Whether good is a subjective or objective assessment or not is up to interpretation." You answered noncommittedly. "I don't think that's right. Our soul splits apart until we're just… empty. We lose some memories in the process."

"But functioning?"

"In a sense, yeah, but we lose a part of ourselves like memories and well, hair color, I guess." You nodded. "Why are you so curious?"

"Since you have rejected my confession, I want to try my hand at seducing a copy of yours instead," Zandik said. You couldn't tell whether he was joking with his naturally piercing red eyes. "Until then, you are not allowed to asexually reproduce without my authorization. Understood?"

You laughed. Unaware of his arsonist crimes, you willingly indulged his words.

"I owe you my ears, so it's only right that I'll listen to your commands, Zandik."

"Good." Zandik grinned, shark-like.

"What a good test subject you are, (Y/n)."

Centuries later, that closing sentence will continue to remain true.

Since then, his life has changed. Multiplied, even. Upon studying your genetic makeup, he found ways to duplicate himself as well. Despite his feats in science, Zandik remained unhappy.

Deep down, all the Harbingers pity the Doctor who cannot save his most loved one. That includes both Columbina and Arlecchino.

No one protests even when harmful orders are given; everything appears fine until the symptoms are felt. Because the organism— the astral descender— has no nerves or voice, he continues to assume that the patient is not in pain.

The patient needs peace but because they are not to speak, they remain silent, and the need persists.

The patient wants to eat and breathe fresh air, but because such desires might hurt the feelings of the doctor who thinks he has done everything needed, the patient remains quiet, contemplating desires out of fear of reprimand.

The original (Y/n) (L/n) suffers in silence. In a white room only accessible by a man who continues to nurse his unrequited love: Zandik.

No one else can enter this room.

He won't allow it. Only he can be obsessed with you.

The thought of you haunts him like a smiling reflection upon window panes— like a gift of a Trojan horse with nothing but your echoing laughter and hospital monitor beeps inside. Your thin limbs were marching clock hands with rusted gears that miraculously function till the end of time.

What is immortality for if every day was a death loop?

It is such a lonely concept…

You ought to be thankful that he's willing to be your eternal company.

"I endeavored to elicit a reciprocation of my sentiments from the latest subject. Regrettably, their discovery of my antecedent experiments transpired prematurely. Nevertheless, as asserted several times, it remains but a temporal inevitability until an iteration of yourself succumbs to having an interest towards me." Dottore hummed.

He held your feet.

He held Test Subject #01's feet.

If you spoke up, he would've bragged about how he was right. How people do love your songs. But no one knows if you can't or won't answer him. This one-sided conversation is the punishment for his hubris.

He took out a sharp knife and cut off one of your toes. You no longer feel any pain as you bleed into his hands. What a kind man the doctor is, for he blocked all your pain receptors years ago. It's a good thing you regenerate quickly.

That's what he loved and hated about you.

You only gave and gave.

But you never ran out of soul. You never ran your heart fully dry— and that left you ill. Zandik could never let you go.

You're already a part of him.

Hence, he must not make clones of exaggerated memories. He wanted your perfect yet healthy replica.

Praise be the white corpuscles extracted from your veins which had brought him new life. You were the reason for his research. You were the breath that gave his segments life. You were his muse, much like he was yours.

"Fear not, (Y/n)," he reassured with a measured tone. "Upon my mastery of the arts, I intend to reinstate your autonomy and awareness. Perhaps then, you shall find the organic inclination to reciprocate affection toward me by the 9806's trial. Until then…"

In other words, give him more time and he'll reinvent love.

He leaned his forehead against yours.

"I'm so, so sorry."

And ultimately, he'll reinvent YOU.

"Can I have another piece of your scalp?"

"No."

"Do you not understand the weight of this research or must I expound on it further in another three-hour presentation?"

"Alternatively, you could start by saying that you're sorry," you raised an eyebrow. "I'm still not over the fact you randomly cut a piece of my ear when I was asleep, doctor. You know, I heard from the aranaras that white tulips are given to someone when they ask for forgiveness."

Zandik smirked.

"Regrettably, it seems that such an occurrence is unlikely to transpire. Do not expect such words and gifts from me."

You smiled.

"We'll see, we'll see."

Taglist (pls notify if you wish to be on the taglist for the last two): @average-yandere-enjoyer @pix-stuff @sagekun @vennnnn-diagram @dilucragnidvr @tnsophiaonly @lsleepysimpl

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lemonjestercoffee · 1 month

Text

so i said something about alicorns being funky in my last mlp redesign post yeah? well before i get into that-

the beautiful bride and the ugly ass groom

okay okay jokes aside here's Shining's real sheets and Cadance on her own

starting off with design choice notes

Shining Armor - his was like- really hard to figure out and i didn't really know what i was doing, but i did like the concept of him having lost a leg in some sorts of battle. one thing i did know what i was doing with tho was his armor, i never really liked the canon armor so i decided to take my own stab at it. decided to make it cover the more important areas better, added gambeson underneath, put a royal crest on it, and gave them a head weapon. yes the metal horns are on all species armor, it's there not only to protect real horns from oncoming attacks but also give all soldiers an emergency weapon if they get disarmed. the tassels would be colored differently depending on rank

Cadance - the only through i really had going into her design was i wanted her to have a cloud and heart motif, but i'm unsure if the way i handled it is the best. her cutiemark is meant to resemble a Mexican sacred heart because deity of love- like come on. i also wanna kinda change the color of the carnation in her hair to stand out more, but white carnations have a different meaning so it's fiiiinee

okay now what we really wanna hear about, what the fuck did i do to the alicorns?

i decided to tamper with their lore quite a bit, as i was inspired to by the Skyscraper Gods Au by Shirecorn. now mine is no were near as drastic as that au, obviously, but it did inspire me to come up with my own quirks for them.

i went more "alicorns are more like the elves of ponies but because they can only be made by some unexplained rare mystical intervention and live for fuck off long, normal ponies see them as demigods of sorts". i've even given them things like groups or locations that they act as patrons of and prioritize above other things, but that stuff gets a little rambley so imma not do that on this post

for the anatomy tho, i can talk. i'll be using Twilight as a visual example because she's the one i've drawn in all stages

so basically the concept here is pretty similar to the canon, but with some funky add-ons.

first up- when an alicorn ascends, not only do they gain the wings/horn combo and grow an inch, they also gain some other unique anatomy from the other species.

Unicorn- along with the horn, they also receive the ear tip tufts i gave unicorns. these actually have a purpose, they're sensitive to magic energy and allow unicorns to tell where magic is coming from. depending on the unicorn they vary in sensitivity but alicorns are by far the most sensitive Pegasus- along with the wings, the get some of the extra feathers pegasai have on their bodies, namely the ones on their ankles that are used for finer trajectory adjustments in flight. they also receive the sensitivity of their hooves that's used to pick up changes in cloud texture and sense their stability Earth Pony- earth ponies may seem like they don't add shit, but they actually give two very important things. the first thing is a strength boost, as they're stronger than the other two pony species by nature. the other thing is dense as fuck hooves. that sounds kinda lame but they have rock hard hooves that allow for them to dig into dense materials and have a kick with some real bite in it that the others just can't replicate and might tear their own hooves up trying. they also add the visible fluff in the ear canal. but that's just a dust filter and if isn't cleaned properly might actually be more of hindrance

it's worth noting- if you look at Cadance and Twilight side by side- that despite being given extra anatomical traits from the other species they will always look more like the species they were before ascension. this is mostly visible in the ears, tails, and hoof shapes -unicorns have long tails with hair only growing from the underside, basic ears, narrower hooves, and usually have long fetlocks as part of their culture. -pegasai have short tails that are completely covered with hair and have rudder feathers at the base, pinned back feathery ears with restricted movement, and really shallow hooves with no fur around them -earth ponies have medium tails with even hair growth around a third of the way down, basic ears, and slightly taller hooves with varying fetlock sizes.

second up- the only uniquely alicorn physical traits that they really have (aside from height) are their hair and beards. unlike normal pony beards that are made of the same hair as their manes, alicorn beards are made of coat fur and will grow a specific length each year that marks how old they are kinda like tree rings. due to this the alicorns don't try to cut them. the manes are kinda funky cause they start out at the roots as normal hair, but then become more "ethereal" after a few inches or so. they tend to start to become ethereal roughly 10 years after ascension

they do have one more weird trait but it's less noticeable and that's the thing with the patterns. when an alicorn is first ascended they gain an extra pattern on their legs, and that pattern gains a second layer around the time they start to get their ethereal manes. you can see it happening on Twilight's lineup.

there's also a bonus thing here that has nothing to do with alicorns as much as it does unicorns- but i like the idea of Unicorn tails (flesh/bone, not hair) getting longer with age. it's usually not too noticeable because they don't normally live long enough for it to be really noticeable compared to younger unicorns, but alicorns do- so former unicorns can end up with some long ass tails in their 1000's

that's all i really got now- if i added in magic and social stuff this would have been way longer. i'm done with my rambles

#my little pony #mlp fim #mlp redesign #mlp headcanons #princess cadance #shining armor #twilight sparkle #kai doodles

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razorblade180-heated · 2 months

Text

Eager

The plot is here <-

NSFW

Love is such a dangerous thing when it’s eager. That’s what Weiss told herself anyway. She wanted to believe that if she had kept her lips shut and eyes on the pages of her new book, that today could’ve ended in a comfortable, loving silence. Deep down however, she knew bending to the whims of her boyfriend wasn’t a selfless act. No, she was just as eager as he was. Didn’t matter if it was to please or be pleased, Weiss welcomed Jaune’s advances. So while she would love to believe he convinced her to drape her legs over his shoulders, the truth was this is exactly where she wanted to be.

Pressed into the corner of their couch, Jaune tasted Weiss’s eagerness in full. His hands more than supported her weight as he held handfuls of her soft, plump rear. His tongue lashed along her entrance, slurping whatever didn’t drip down his chin.

Weiss’s fingers wrapped around his golden locks for dear life as she bit her bottom lip. She couldn’t tell what was more alluring. The fact that his tongue slipped its way in to flick the spot she loves, or how this entire thing was Jaune’s humble request. She tried her best not to squeeze too tightly but the man didn’t seem to care, plunging so deep the air in her throat turned into a guttural moan. Then there was the way his nose grazed her clit as he feasted, then the sweet rush up her spine when his grip on her ass got rougher. It was all just so….

“Aagnh~ Baby, I’m…” She couldn’t even finish as her hips road into his drawn out lapping. Whatever resistance Weiss had came flowing out between trembling legs for Jaune to lap up. And even then, he didn’t stop. “Fuck!” She cried out.

Jaune kept her body right where it was and leaned forward to place her back on the couch, while never giving up the addicting taste of his woman.

The high of her orgasm only led to more sensitive, toe curling pleasure from Jaune’s efforts. Her hips bucked and squirmed under him until his hands locked them in place, leaving her no room to escape the blissful torture.

“Jaune! Wait!” She begged, feeling another impending rush coming. “I just…just….!”

It was no use. Her fingers were already gripping his hair fiercely again as her toes curled. Bright red blush colored Weiss’s face as she felt herself cum all over Jaune’s face. The pounding of her heart was loud in her ears while her body shivered as Jaune’s tongue slipped out. Even with it gone, Weiss couldn’t stop her legs from trembling.

The prideful woman put her right arm over her face to hide her embarrassment. “Damnit Jaune. I already cleaned this couch…” she whined.

Her pity party wasn’t indulged. Weiss only received silence as she heard the boy move around on the couch. Then his hand gripped her rebellious arm. Weiss let it get moved out of the way and silently gasped as she was greeted with a very eager erection that rested on her face, flooding her senses. To think she let such a borish thing get so close. She really has gone crazy. Without a second thought, Weiss ran her tongue up the base then kissed it slowly. Her lips took it in sections, playfully nipping along the shaft and licking the rigid beast. Weiss moaned softly as she felt Jaune’s left hand rub her face.

Jaune groaned happily, feeling her tongue wrap around the shaft slowly. The entire room fell quiet aside for echoes of her loving worship of his length.

“Good girl~ now open wide.”

Her jaw hung open and heart fluttered as she felt his hand trail up to her hair. His fingers coiled around her ponytail before tugging hard enough to put her head against the couch. Weiss’s cheeks burned feverishly as she felt his thick cock descend into her throat. Her fingers trailed up his thighs and danced on his waist as it slowly thrusted down and up while her lips puckered around it.

“Mmm~” she moaned, her senses overwhelmed. Weiss really couldn’t be upset at Jaune’s brazenness when she had something of her own she would never get tired of tasting.

Jaune’s body shuddered as he felt his girlfriend’s tongue swirl around his tip before sliding down and coiling his length. He couldn’t help but smirk as he heard her moans.

“This really is your favorite part, isn’t it?”

Even if her mouth wasn’t full, Weiss wasn’t going to answer that honestly. His hold on her hair kept her still as he slowly fucked her throat. It wasn’t long before her nose touched his waist, coaxing her to suck harder.

“Nngh, fuck.” Jaune grunted, rocking his hips more. “Just like that.”

Weiss loved his voice like this; the way it was so wanting yet demanding at once. She felt Jaune’s right hand run down her legs, causing them to flinch close when his fingers gently rubbed her sensitive entrance.

“Weiss, look at me.”

Her light blue eyes met his dark blue ones, drinking in her stern expression. She knew exactly what he was about to say.

“Spread those legs or lose your treat.”

Oh how she wished he was bluffing, but experience told her he was deadly serious. Weiss rubbed her tongue side to side while she listened to his order, parting her damp thighs until she felt two calloused fingers sink into her pussy and curl up like hooks. Her vision nearly left.

“Aaaaghn~” It was absolute heaven. Weiss felt countless jolts of pleasure as Jaune stirred her leaking inside and invaded her mouth with rhythmic thrusts. Thank goodness he was moving slow enough to give her time to breathe through her nose before making her swallow his full length down her throat. Each time he dove deep, that annoying smirk came back that made her tongue do laps around him and moan without hesitation. Even when she felt him throbbing more, Weiss found herself closing her eyes; going off of his body’s reactions as she sucked on him harder.

“Oh yeah~ definitely your favorite part.” Jaune moaned, watching her ears turn red and service him more aggressively. “You really want a taste?”

She did. By the gods, she did. Her hands moved down to gently massage his package, its contents heavy with her reward. Weiss’s eyes opened halfway and was filled with a pure lust that demanded her throat to be sore. Her air received a proper grab before Jaune got rougher, his fingers still at work in her pussy.

Weiss focused on the task in front of her, relaxing her jaw the best she could while tasting every last inch of Jaune’s pulsing manhood before finally getting a clear, pure taste of him running down her tongue. And heard the man hiss as he brought her head up to his lap.

Strength was literally being sucked out of Jaune’s legs. Weiss didn’t dream of stopping her tongue’s rampage. Instead she let play with his tip while it sent wave after wave into her mouth.

“Agh! Fuck!” Jaune’s body tensed up. Weiss was making sure his orgasm lasted as long as possible.

The girl’s mind was clouded over while she drank. She wasn’t sure if the climax she was feeling came from Jaune’s fingers, or the taste she longed for finally flooding her senses. She really was as bad as him, if not worse. Weiss got every last drop before Jaune moved his hips back far enough to leave her mouth with a satisfying pop. Even after an orgasm like that, his dick was half erect and resting on her face.

Jaune could see the way her gaze was swimming in pleasure despite the contrast of her chest heaving as her longs took a proper breath in what must’ve felt like ages. Jaune let her hair go and removed his fingers. He gently went back to rubbing the side of her face as he tasted what was left on his digits. “What do you say?”

“Thank you daddy.” Weiss said with zero hesitation. She kissed the underside of his cock again, giving it small licks in the process. She didn’t mean to spur his eagerness, but the moment she felt it grow it was difficult to not help out. Weiss playfully sucked the tip until she was dealing with a beast on her face again.

The girl sighed, “I had other plans today.”

“Are you mad?”

“No. I just thought you should know.” She teased mildly. “I don’t know how much strength I have left.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick. Flip over for me.” Jaune got off of her.

Oh, that was a dangerous command. Weiss grabbed a pillow beside her before flipping onto her stomach. She buried her face into it and raised her hips off the couch.

“That pillow won’t save you.”

“I can try!” She whined, waiting for him to start. Weiss felt the couch cushion sink behind her and was promptly given a slap on the left cheek that made her yelp. The hand spread her open to her dismay. He could see everything and she just…let him. The thought made her core ache.

“Aww, you’re twitching.”

She was gonna kill him later. “Shut- ah!” Her attitude was silenced by the unexpected feeling of Jaune’s tongue returning. “No! No please~ I’m sorry!”

Her body trembled as it left. Weiss didn’t hear any smug or lustful chuckling. Instead Jaune made the room sound like footsteps through puddles as he smacked her cock on her entrance. Weiss’s hips betrayed her mind, rising up higher until the tip slid in.

“Heh, good girl.” He hummed.

“Thank you.” Weiss blushed, her teeth bit the pillow. Jaune’s hands found their favorite spot on her hips and pulled her onto his cock in one go. What was a step into puddle turned into full blown stomping as Jaune began fucking her roughly. Grunts and moans were caught in her throat. Any involuntary moves away from his cock was immediately brought back towards it with a firm pull backwards.

“Don’t run from it.” Jaune felt her greedy walls pull him in, sticking to his length while slicking it further to keep his pace. He watched the girl yell into the pillow while her blue painted nails clawed it. Jaune leaned forward until he was almost laying on Weiss, driving himself deeper into her body.

Weiss was full on panting. Why didn’t they take off all their clothes before beginning this workout!? It wasn’t even supposed to get to this point! The girl felt his weight on her body. His left hand left her hip to work its way up her back, then her neck; all the way to her hair again. Weiss’s heart beated out of her chest.

“I said that pillow wasn’t going to help.” Jaune pull her head up and got a good look at a damp, crimson face that tried to hide running eyeliner and smudge lipstick.

“No! D-don’t look~” She begged, despite his gaze making her body squeez down on him. His gaze remained on her messy exterior before pulling her closer. His tongue dominated her and all Weiss could do is grip the stupid pillow as she kissed him back. All her cries went into his mouth and her back arched deeper for him to dig into the special spot she loved. Jaune’s hips rammed into her ass, grinding into the spot.

“AAAGHN!!!” Right now, Jaune could ask for anything and Weiss would give it to him twice. There wasn’t a coherent thought in her head. Only pure satisfaction that burned quickly like a match. Weiss didn’t even know when, but her body was suddenly receiving another load while her body failed to function properly.

Both of them stalled out, their energy so drained they remained in their position before Jaune’s weight made Weiss’s body fall flat. The boy took in sharp breaths by her ear while Weiss was still wrestling with the pleasure in her head. How the hell did the dunce make sex so good that her brain felt like she fried it during a study session!?

Weiss’s face fell into the pillow as she groaned. “Ungh, you were just supposed to eat me out.”

“Hehe…you made zero arguments giving me head. I wonder why?” He pecked her cheek.

Weiss tried to summon faux outrage but it wasn’t happening at all. She turned her head to look at her boyfriend’s satisfied and loving smile. “You’re cleaning the couch.”

“Okay.”

“And me! We’re taking a nice long bubble bath.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Don’t think about trying anything either!”

“That’s up to you.”

“….” Weiss deflated and sighed in defeat, knowing it was always up to her! Damn him! So eager to give, while she was just as eager to please. “We’ll see what happens.”

#rwby #jaune arc #weiss schnee #rwby whiteknight #I just wanted to practice writing oral better and this happened

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aroacesetitoff · 4 months

Text

OG Infinight Reference Sheet + Headcanons

Marcy Burns/Elleve the Amender

-4 feet tall

-its mentioned that she has "rainbow robes" and ive decided to interpret that as sunset colored

-pre mining accident Marcy has longer hair and has already lost her eye to unknown circumstances

-post mining accident Marcy cut her hair and it turned whiter, and she switched to more monochrome clothing-symbolizes her turning away from her faith and also grieving her husband

-still wears her wedding ring, and keeps Fred's on a chain with a locket of his picture

-we know literally nothing abt Fred but I think he was also a halfling and had a sick ass mustache

-the symbol on pre-accident Marcy's eyepatch + staff is supposed to be of the Diarians (followers of Dia). The circle is Faeza, the hands are Dia herself, and the six teardrop shapes are the Diagems. Also meant to resemble a flower as a reference to Gum Gum

-magic goblet-does it have a name? Anyways Paralyte stole it from the Sheerays so I gave it an aquatic wave/seaweed design (water = life)

-idk how to design tattoos, but other clerics of dia would probably have similar ones-i think hers are religious in nature

Ostin Tashe/Slique the Symphonius

-ya boiiii

-4'6-so just barely taller than Bart. Barely

-had the most satisfying color palette for me- i love green and so does he

-i rewatched the hobbit/lotr trilogies so Ostin is def inspired by that-gave him braided hair and armor

-idk how a tuning sword works. Like a bident maybe? Ive drawn the sword in his right hand (the one with missing fingers) but he might prefer to fight left-handed. Idk ive trained with longswords before but ive never lost any fingers so i cant say

-magic lute-gave it a greener/mossier color palette to show it was from the Elderpines. The strings are vines and the rosette has a tree design

-dont know where Ostin's scars came from either, maybe he really did fight a dragon maybe he didnt-doesnt stop him

-post-Wight Winter i gave Slique a grey streak to match with Spectril

-also gave him a cool colored eye highlight for the same reason

Leonard Lank/Spectril the Surreptitious

-i put his height around 5'7/5'8

-made the rogue armor sharp and dark-had to recolor it from the origianly palette bc it was too dark tho lmao. Fur collar to foreshadow his time in the Ethereal Plane

-post-Wight Winter i gave him simple, more homey clothes bc at that point he had a family and wasn't focused on fighting. The fur is not bear fur i swear

-already mentioned it before but his hair started turning white + he grew it out/braided it back.

-he's got normal rogue daggers, and then the Ethereal daggers. Not shown but yeah they fade in and out of the Material and Ethereal Plane

-"Walls Have Ears-Doors Have Eyes" by Clan D. Stine-the wiki i think mentioned him having books that let him turn invisible and walk through walls-this one's definitely a Leitner (ifykyk)

-boots-deceptively simple in design from the Elderpines

-piercings include several ear piercings, snake bites, and an eyebrow piercing

-warm colored eye highlight to match with Slique-your honor i have (accidentally) sun/moon coded then because they are gay

Luz Prattle/Paralyte

-6'0 tall and definitely uses it for intimidation

-i think she dresses kinda emo/alt

-the only infinight with a unique logo-instead of two crossed swords its a snake eating itself

-committing to the snake bit-i gave her scale armor

-the gloves have two talons on the pointer and middle finger, based very specifically off a homebrew item i saw where the hand kind of looks like a biting snake. It contains a venom that paralyzes enemies and came from the Sheerays

-put a snake on her sword. Cause why not. Thats why she teamed up with Brink they are both snake lovers

-not drawn, but she would have a snake tattoo somewhere on her body

-hands are turning dark at the fingertips as a side effect of using the gloves so often. Her veins are visibly green because shes pale as hell and also suffering from long term exposure to Sangrianite

-facial scar-man im sorry i dont know where this one came from either. Kyborg shot her once tho i do remember that

Bo Bender/Grislee the Groundbreaker

-height is about 6'6, very tall lady

-all i had to go off was red bandana so its like her thing

-her locs are made of rocks and also have veins of gold in them

-the stuff on her shoulders and hammer are lichen-she takes such long naps outside they've started growing on her. And also earth genasi

-when shes raging she has magma veins coming from her eyes and hands, and the inside of her body also glows

-when shes not raging it cools to golden veins-still very hot to the touch sometimes

-didnt have a lot if ideas for her second outfit but i gave her a bearskin bc she is "grizzly"

-hammer is the other item from the Sheerays and is pretty much just a trunk on a stick in terms of design. Combined with the lute tho, they are probably some of the most powerful items in Faeza

Man thats a lot of characters. Should i have made these before I made 3 painting and a comic page? Yeah. But i didnt lol. Enjoy✌️

edit: fixed the magic item origins

#my art #tales from the stinky dragon #tftsd #slique the symphonius #ostin tashe #spectril the surreptitious #leonard lank #elleve the amender #marcy burns #grislee the groundbreaker #bo bender #paralyte #luz prattle #stinkydragonpod

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triptrippy · 1 month

Note

I love your art so much! If you don't mind me asking what's your process for designing characters/outfits?

i had to think about this for a while

when designing characters sometimes im just thinking of a concept ive been exposed to and want to expand in my mind, like with my dunmeshi ocs there were multiple Things in dungeon meshi i wanted to play around with.

dwarves having high tech ruins with trolleys? telephones? there must be Some innovation going on with dwarven society, what if i made someone interested in that innovation but theyre not a dwarf. elves have magic but instead of casting, this character leans toward that tinkering mentality and they brew magic potions and make explosives. Then, i know the noble dwarves in the story are drawn like Rennaissance lords but they have telephones, so maybe there could be a little bit of a steampunk vibe. And then being an elf, around dwarves, they probably get their gender confused more often, maybe they actually dont mind that much and its fun. maybe they work for the dwarven noble in the party? i think that was basically my thought process for fry. and then for his physical appearence, i started drawing an elf and i was focusing on that "likes to have fun" part and i gave him sort of that elven shagginess/laid back look, and messed around with the color pallett until i picked something i liked. he almost had bleach white hair reminiscent of a mad scientist but brown felt more grounded. and its pink at the root because its cute!

i feel like i wing it with outfits but i think i use the same logic. hes an alchemist and lives around nobility, so he has kind of a suit as if hes in academia. but hes cute, so it has a skirt and no jacket. he has a magical prosthetic that he controls with a puppet spell like milsiril uses to control her puppets. it doesnt heal when hes healed because he was born without the arm, and it also doesnt count towards the 1/13th of body missing that would ruin a ressurection since it was never there to begin with. SORRY I GOT INTO THE LORE ON YOU umm yeah and then his head is very warm toned so his outfit i chose warm tones as well. i put goggles and gloves because safety first proper PPE. and thats it! i pick outfits that make sense for what i know of the character, their class(monetarily) how practical i imagine they are, what they would dress for on a daily basis. either before or during the design process im thinking of the silouette and color chemistry as well, but that can change with an outfit.

awesome question thank u!

#ill just put this in my #dm oc tag #cause i turned it into a fry post.

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darklordofthesimp · 2 years

Text

The Beskar Beast III (Din Djarin x Reader)

CHAPTER 3

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

A Beauty and The Beast Retelling.

The Beskar Beast of Nevarro had been a living legend that both protected and terrorized the planet for years. A creature of the night, shielded from the sun and his enemies by beskar armor, he required a blood sacrifice every two years to keep his bloodlust sated. There were plenty of women on Nevarro, and the likelihood of being chosen was slim- though, you supposed you'd ruined your odds when you accepted the deal to take your sister's place as his offering.

After all, what better reason to die if not for love?

AN: This is nooot my best chapter and I hate it. I'm on course at the moment and I'm sorry for the low quality.

Rated: 16+

Warnings: Threats of Violence, Swearing.

You had spent the better half of the afternoon staring at the ceiling.

In your defense, it’s not as though the Beast had given you anything better to do. He’d herded you into this beautiful prison and left you with nothing but your thoughts. They were dangerous, to say the least, always leading you right back to Kalea and your home.

Sometimes, when you had cried long enough, your heart reminded you of all the dreams you had. The fantasies of reconstructing ships to perform whatever wild things your imagination could conjure. You had deluded yourself into thinking that one day you would even build a beautiful ship just for yourself and travel the galaxy.

Pilots would always talk about the stars and the beauty of the universe- but what you really wanted to see was the colors. Travelers said that it was called a ‘nebula’. You had no idea what that meant scientifically, but to you, it meant something beautiful. Supposedly, the nebula’s had colors that you had never even seen before and you had been drawn to them since.

A gnarled, dead branch scraped along your window.

Thinking about your fantasies would only hurt, especially when they were now impossible. You needed to put all of your energy into surviving this place and surviving the Beast.

There was a knock on the door, sharp and impatient. Your breath hitched in your throat as you sat up for the first time in hours. It had to be the monster on the other side, you’d seen no one else in the castle.

They rapped against the door once more and you sat frozen.

What would you do if he came in to finally collect your blood debt? There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide- you would be taken as his sacrifice sprawled across this bed and soaked in tears.

The door opened and you held your breath, gripping the bed sheets hard.

To your surprise, two women shuffled through the entry, quickly pressing the button behind them. They were complete opposites in appearance, one was tall with dark hair and the other was short with frizzy, straw-colored curls.

The smaller one was older, wrinkles and smile lines indicating the type of life she might have lived- a life you’d have no chance at. You slowly exhaled, feeling the anxiety deflate in your chest.

“Well?” She squawked, throwing her hands up towards you. “Why didn’t ya answer?”

You blanched.

“Um,” the sound was stammered and you felt your body flush. “I’m- I’m sorry?”

Before she could get another word in, the tall and severe-looking woman spoke up.

“Don’t mind her, she can’t help being irritating. That’s Peli and I’m Cara.”

You nodded, your mouth dry as they stared. There was such an intensity to the way they watched you and it made you uncomfortable. You could only imagine how many women they had seen come and die in this castle, you wondered if they would even bother to remember your name once you were gone.

“Well,” Peli clapped her hands, jolting you from your thoughts. “Let’s get you ready for dinner!”

Your stomach dropped. You had no idea who these women were or what their role was in this castle, but clearly, they were Beast sympathizers at the very least.

“I don’t want to,” you whispered, leaning away from the pair.

Peli tilted her head back and barked a sharp laugh. “Oh, don’t be a pansy. You’ll make him mad and then we’ll all cop it.”

You stared in horror.

“Alright, get out,” Cara suddenly spoke, smacking the button and shooing the curly-haired menace out the door. “You’re making it worse.”

There was a short struggle as Peli tried to defend herself but in the end, Cara managed to pluck her from the room. You couldn’t say that you weren’t grateful for it, that was too much energy for what you’d just endured. As Cara closed the door and turned to face you, you realized just how intimidating she was. The woman looked like something out of a military campaign with her wide shoulders and muscular build.

“She’s right though,” Cara shrugged, a lazy smile playing on her lips. “You can’t not go.”

You knew that they had a point, you were surprised that you were even alive and you had no desire to push the Beast to change his mind about that.

But to see him again? You shuddered.

“I know,” you rasped, fingers trembling as they swiped over your arm. You didn’t want to see the relief on her face at your words, it made you angry. This entire dynamic was something out of a horror story and Cara and Peli were either trapped in this life or accomplices. Even if they were forced into this, how could they willingly stand by as people died at the hands of the Beast they served?

The woman smiled, oblivious to your thoughts as she walked towards the closet with a sigh.

“Right, let’s see what’s in this thing then.”

____

You forced your coat tightly against your body, eyeing the door before you uneasily. You’d been standing there for minutes on end, deliberating on whether you should just return back to your room. It wasn’t truly an option, the Beast knew exactly where you were and there was no doubt in your mind that he’d be darkening your doorway within the hour.

You bounced lightly on your feet as if about to get into the cage of a cantina boxing match. “Okay,” you nodded your head, reaching your hand for the door shakily. The second your fingers touched the button you felt your chest squeeze hard.

“Fuck!” You hissed through gritted teeth, forcing the anxiety down in your chest. There was no way out of this and prolonging the inevitable would only make it so much worse.

With that, you opened the door.

The room was magnificent, to say the least.

In fact, to describe it as a room would be a severe understatement.

It was a great hall, the marble ceiling carved to tell stories that you’d never know. Had you been none the wiser, you’d have thought this was a museum. There were artifacts in glass cases lining the room, ancient weaponry from a foreign culture hanging from the walls. There were no windows to be seen, though the room was lit well by the intricate chandeliers hanging. It was beautiful, to say the least.

Your heart fluttered at the sight of the hardwood table in the center of the room.

Dinner was served atop of it on sealed platters, the contents hidden until opened. There was a cushioned chair on either end- but both were empty.

The Beast was not there.

A sense of uneasiness settled on your shoulders like a heavy shawl, suffocating you with its demand to be heard. You were late, there was no reason for the monster to not already be there. What if this had been a trap? Had you just been stupid enough to walk straight into a set-up?

You spun on your heels, suddenly desperate to return to the false sense of security your room had provided.

The Beast leaned in the doorway, arms folded across his chest.

You choked on your own breath and a gasp ripped its way from your throat. Light from the fire reflected against his armor and he truly looked like the legend he had been made to be. He looked like death incarnate.

You were silent before him, fingers trembling so hard that you shoved them behind your back. His formidable height took up the majority of the entrance, blocking out the light from the hallway behind him. You knew then, in the way that he stood so impossibly still, that this was no human- he truly was something else.

The monster tilted his head, pushing off from the arch he leaned on.

“You’re here.”

Words refused to grace your tongue and you could only offer a small nod. Your fingers dug into your biceps with extreme force, reminding yourself that you were still alive and that you needed to stay that way.

“How-” you rasped, clearing your throat uneasily. “How long were you there?”

“Long enough to be surprised that you opened the door.”

Embarrassment trickled down your spine with the heat of a thousand suns.

The creature brushed past you, the length of his cape skimming along the skin of your hand. He made his way to the table silently, gesturing for you to follow.

Your heart skipped a beat as you watched the Beast pull your chair out lightly. Thankfully, he didn’t linger to help push it back in once you were seated. You were uncomfortable turning your back on him, though, you supposed he didn’t have to wait for you to be vulnerable if he’d wanted to hurt you- to someone like him you were free reign.

He took a seat in his chair, watching you from behind that wretched visor.

“Eat.”

You clenched your jaw, finally noticing that there was no plate in front of him. You wanted to scream in protest, you wanted to throw your fork at him and cry that you weren’t going to eat while he watched. There was nothing worse than feeling like you were the evening’s entertainment, like a court jester dancing until he got the hook.

As if the Beast saw your apprehension, he leaned his elbows against the table.

“I don’t eat this stuff,” he said simply, nodding his helmet at the abundance of platters scattered across the hardwood. “It’s all yours.”

You raised a brow, shakily reaching for the lid of the closest platter. Juicy, roasted porg sat piled high on the plate and you almost dropped the covering in your hand. Porg was rare on Nevarro, considering they weren’t a local species it shocked you to see it. The rest of the dishes were similarly foreign delicacies, fruits you’d only ever heard of and meats and bread that you’d rarely had the opportunity to taste.

You decided by the uncovering of the third platter that if the monster wanted to kill you tonight, then you would at least go out on a full stomach. It was the least that he could give you.

You tried to ignore him while you ate, forcing yourself to believe that you deserved a meal without him plaguing your thoughts. The Beast had leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other and folding his arms against his broad chest. He was the picture of nonchalance, whereas you looked like a starved animal who’d finally found a meal.

When you had finally finished, you cleaned yourself with the damp cloth provided and observed the monster before you.

“Did you enjoy it?” His voice was softer than usual as he sat upright once more. You thought that it was obvious by the fact that you’d cleared half the platters on the table.

“Yes,” you said hesitantly, “thank you for the meal.”

He nodded, standing to his feet slowly. You weren’t sure whether you were meant to follow, the monster gave no instruction but you stood anyway.

“You still want me to fulfill your demands?” The Beast observed the walls around him as he questioned you, a sigh filtering through the helmet. “I promise you’ll regret it.”

You swallowed your anxiety as best as you could, forcing yourself to approach him on shaky legs.

“I figured I’d find out eventually…” you ventured nervously, shrugging your shoulders as he looked down from the ceiling. He shifted, his body now facing yours square on.

“Yes,” he breathed, “you would.”

The Beast said nothing further and you squirmed beneath his gaze. You’d never grow used to the silences, they were always full of unsaid secrets that you feared you’d never get to learn. Especially not when he watched you like that, like all of his mysteries were to your detriment.

“What do you want from me?” You whispered, meeting his stare head on. You wished you could see through that visor.

The Beast’s fingers twitched by his side.

“You’re a blood sacrifice,” the monster said slowly. “I need your blood.”

You forced yourself not to flinch. You tried to convince yourself that you’d already known this and that it shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt me,” your voice had more volume now but the words still shook. “In the dungeon, that’s what you said.”

You knew that you were going to die. All the women did. You were a stupid fool to think that maybe there was a sliver of hope for you… like you were special. Like you were better than any of the women prior to you who had probably thought the same thing.

The Beast shook his head, closing the distance between you both in one fluid movement.

“I said that you wouldn’t die.”

The words hit home like a gavel in a courthouse. Your life sentence had been served. You took an unsteady step back, the table clattering as your back pressed against it. The Beast followed your movements lazily, cornering you against the hardwood.

“Don’t run,” he said firmly, the growl in his voice not entirely hidden by the vocoder. “If you know what’s good for you, don’t run.”

How could he ask you that? How could he ask you to stand there and accept your fate of a life of servitude and torture?

“Please,” your voice was watery at best, fingers digging into the table hard enough to draw blood.

The helmet tilted as the monster beneath appraised you. His gloved finger lifted to your chin and although it was a slow movement, you jolted back sharply, the cutlery clanging on the hardwood you leaned against.

“Easy,” the monster murmured, “easy. Let me explain.”

You couldn’t help the tears that had collected against your lashes nor the way that you shrunk beneath him. The only thing keeping you standing was the furniture digging into your spine, it was all that grounded you.

“I need your blood to survive,” the Beast disclosed, his hand moving from your chin to grip your wrist. You knew it was a precaution, a cuff to ensure that when you ran he would have the means to stop you. “That doesn’t mean I want to brutalize you to get it.”

You almost laughed, a manic terror bubbling in your chest- this was a fucking nightmare. There was no way that this wasn’t one of your sister’s holo-stories finding itself in your dreams. You’d had enough of this, enough of the Beast, and enough of myths and legends.

“What are you?” You rasped, glaring at him through your tears. “What the fuck are you hiding beneath that helmet, Beast?”

The monster leaned back slightly, a sharp inhale indicating that you’d struck a chord with that name. Good. You wanted to hurt him as much as he was going to hurt you,, no matter how terrifying the creature before you was, you wanted to leave your mark.

“Taking the helmet off will only scare you,” the Beast shook his head.

“You already scare me,” you whispered, analyzing every point of his visor and wondering if you were meeting his eyes. The monster fell silent and his twitching fingers grew still.

He was close, so close that you could actually smell him. His scent was unique and not at all like the horrible stench you’d been expecting. Smoke, pine, and leather filled your senses and numbed you for a bitterly short moment.

“Believe it or not,” the Beast murmured, drawing you back from your thoughts. “I don’t want this situation any more than you do.”

You would have scoffed had you not thought that he was telling the truth. The brutal honesty of his words had you questioning everything all over again. You were exhausted, you were afraid and all you wanted was some answers.

“We had a deal,” you said, tugging lightly on his grip. He retracted his hand quickly, almost like he’d been burned. You wondered if he’d even realized he was still holding you.

“Fine,” the words were a snarl, and you were taken aback. The Beast had been talking so softly you’d almost forgotten that he could raise his voice.

“You know that you’re here because I need your blood to survive,” he snapped.

You nodded your head impatiently but the Beast stepped into your space once more, this time his shoulders were squared off and he stood tall.

“Do you know how I survive off it?” His voice was mocking and angry and it gripped you by the throat with every word. Unease suddenly spilled down your spine like a bucket of ice and you felt the hair on your arms raise.

“Do you?” He repeated louder, the vocoder unable to hide the growl in his voice.

“No!” Your voice shook as your back pressed against the table.

“No,” the Beast mocked quietly, pulling the collar of your coat down with a soft but quick movement. There was nowhere for you to evade his touch, trapped between a monster and an immovable obstacle. That damned orange-tipped finger tapped the tender skin of your neck gently. Your pulse thrummed beneath his touch and you heard a groan from beneath the helmet.

“I need your blood to survive,” the Beast growled, “because I drink it.”

Your stomach dropped. Immediately, you felt the food that you had scoffed down earlier make its way to your throat. This was worse than you could have ever imagined. Every atom in your body buzzed with adrenaline and all that you could think about was running. Your survival instincts screamed at you and your body was hauled into overdrive.

“No,” you made a move to listen to your million-year-old flight reflex but the Beast was faster than you’d ever be. His hand slammed down on the table beside you.

“If you run,” he breathed, “I will kill you before you take your second step.”

Tears blurred your vision as heat ran rampant across your chest and neck. Your heart thrashed between your ribs, beating against its cage with an urgency you’d never felt.

You realized, with horror, why he had fed you such a feast.

Your chest heaved with every heavy breath you took, a second away from hyperventilating your way into the grave.

“You wanted to see what I am?” The Beast roared, mere inches from your trembling body. You shook your head, sobbing your protest. You didn’t want to see him anymore, you didn’t want to know anything else about this creature.

The monster reached for his helmet, despite your pleading. You had pushed him too far and taken his patience for granted. With both hands gripping the sides tightly, the Beast took a step back.

You could do nothing but hold your breath as he pulled it off.

_____

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bonesandthebees · 4 months

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feel free to use this ask as a reason to ramble about eternal sunshine of a spotless mind, id love to hear

oh man okay you asked for it spoilers for eternal sunshine of the spotless mind under the cut

I just think this movie is such a good display of a toxic/unhealthy relationship. joel and clementine are terrible for each other. by the time they're at their bitter end, they constantly argue and insult each other and neither one feels like a good person when they're around the other. but they also truly, deeply love each other. the tragic thing about those kinds of toxic relationships is that it comes to the question of "is it more painful for us to be together or for us to be apart?"

the end of the movie is just what drives me the most insane. after hearing the tape recordings from each of their mind erasure sessions they know full well how this relationship is going to play out. it's not like they broke up, learned from their mistakes and worked to become better people, and then got back together. they didn't learn anything because they erased the other from their memory! there's no chance for them to not repeat those mistakes. it's going to happen. they both know where this is going to lead. but that love is still there even if they can't remember it. they still feel drawn to the other person. the theme of is the pain you'll feel at the end worth the love you feel during it is just one that I love thinking about. it's so raw and messy and human. you know you're going to hurt this person but you want to love and be loved by them anyway. you're not meant for each other but you're going to pretend to be for as long as you can. it's tragic and beautiful and again, so utterly human.

and of course there's the smaller things like clementine being a fantastic deconstruction of the manic pixie dream girl trope before the manic pixie dream girl was even formally named. like yes she's got colorful hair and a quirky personality but then you see that oh, she's actually fucked up. at the start of the movie when we're introduced to her post memory wipe, she's blunt and spins wildly between moods and she's got the colorful hair and talks about wanting to name the dye colors—she's got the quirky weird girl personality! then as we go through joel's memories we see that bluntness and those mood swings aren't a joke. she can genuinely be a mean person and her entire mood flips on joel in two seconds flat just because he made a single comment. the quirkiness isn't a cutesy thing, it's a facet of her personality that might seem intriguing and fun at the start, but does also cause issues in the relationship later on.

and joel is an interesting dive into the nice nerdy guy who ends up with the manic pixie dream girl trope too. yes he's awkward and nice and offers her a ride home and all that, and doesn't really know how to respond to her flirting in an awkward but charming way. but then later on (or technically earlier on as we go back through joel's memories) we see that while he's quiet, he's very judgemental. he thinks of himself as better than clementine and picks at her flaws in his head. the fact that he never puts a voice to his thoughts lets him bottle things up inside and makes him bitter. like how clementine's bluntness is strangely charming at first, joel's awkwardness is only charming until it makes it impossible for him to properly communicate his feelings with his partner.

and again, despite all this they love each other. they love each other so fucking much. and they would rather be hurt by one another than be happy with someone else.

and yeah theres also the subplots with the memory wiping staff and I really liked the inclusion of the girl who works there finding out she asked for her memory of her affair with her boss to be wiped and how betrayed and violated she feels after finding that out and all that, but the highlight for me is always just joel and clementine and everything about their fucked up dynamic.

we all know on this blog that I love unhealthy and messy relationships. and tbh I think it started with this movie! out of my top 4 movies, 3 of them (including this one) are about complicated messy relationships between people so. I have a type lol.

#ask #jiksvokrat #eternal sunshine of the spotless mind

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stardusthuntress · 9 months

Text

A Gala-ctic Evening (Part 2)

ARC Echo x AFAB!reader

(Part 1)

Word Count: ~6k (hehehehehe! Here there be pure smut, friends!)

Summary: Echo and the classic ‘night at the gala’ trope, continued. What a fun way to start a relationship with a sweet, flirty trooper like Echo. Corporal, ‘fix it all and flirt the whole way’ is your date for tonight, and he’s more than ready to take it all the way!

TW: Again, 100% pure smut! PiV (wrap it before you tap it irl kids), pull out method (not advised irl), orals (f receiving), reader is a bit self-conscious of her own body (Echo does his best to reassure her), Echo being flirty and confident because he knows the reality of yolo

A/N: who needs plot when you’ve got a man like Echo! No minors allowed! 18+ only! Purely self-indulgent. Echo can have the exact same kinds of love that the other boys can! And with a man as confident and dedicated as Echo, why would you want anyone else! This is also the first time I've written and posted actual smut... I hope you like it!

Echo dividers by @/djarrex, hyperspace banners are my own

Now at the hotel for the night, the pair continue to let their hearts dance closer and closer.

“I never did get a chance to ask you to dance, my Starlight.” Echo offers, tugging her heels from her hand, dropping them in a chair, and returning his hands to her waist.

“I’m no good at dancing,” she mutters, slightly nervous and put out.

“Nonsense, it’s just a chance to hold you close, skill doesn’t matter to me. Here,” he scoops up her hand and twirls her on the spot.

“See? Easy, I’ll lead, just hold on to me. Besides,” he leans closer, to whisper mischeviously in her ear, “there’s no one here to watch, and I don’t have any skill at it either. I just want an excuse to hold you close and see your radiant joy again.”

She giggles and hides in his shoulder.

His arms settle loosely around her waist, and he ever so gently coaxes her to sway and move around the room in small circles.

She relaxes a bit, nuzzling into his shoulder instead of hiding in it.

Echo steals a moment to place a soft kiss on her hair as they sway and swirl around the room.

She raises her head, a dreamy look in her eyes as they dart between meeting his and stealing glances at his lips.

Their steps slow as their focus shifts, neither is sure when exactly their feet stop moving and they stand still, only that it means their lips meet in a dance of their own.

After a moment, they break apart to stare deep into each other’s eyes.

“My Starlight,” Echo whispers. Her attention is drawn to his lips, and the nervousness reappears.

“Oops, maybe I should take the makeup off before it makes a mess of us both.”

Echo smirks, “if that’s what you want.” He’s eager to see her face without all the getup again. Just her, the way he’s most familiar with her everyday in her armor. The way he’s dreamed of her late at night when everyone is asleep.

She tugs him into the bathroom to clean the lipstick that transferred onto him, then reluctantly ushers him out so they can both change into something a little more comfortable.

She takes off the makeup, and lets her hair loose, then needs help with the dress.

And he’s sitting on the bed with his bow tie undone and shirt unbuttoned and untucked. Belt draped over a nearby chair atop his jacket.

As she reappears in the fresher doorway, he can tell she’s a little self conscious after taking the makeup off.

But Echo looks up with a relieved smile and instantly compliments how nice it is to see the real her without the makeup.

“It was nice to be considered pretty for once”, she says.

But Echo prefers her without makeup, and made it his business to tell her as much. “You don’t need it, I finds her natural beauty even more stunning without it.” His tone and eyes reflecting his genuine nature.

Though, for now he keeps to himself how the dark color of her lipstick had made him aware of the finer details of how her lips moved that he hadn’t noticed before. But he was even more entranced watching those movements without the lipstick now. Knowing that he, and he alone could see those subtleties in the way she moved and the expressions she made.

She doesn’t know how to respond, so instead she turns her attention back to getting the dress off. Besides, he’s made her a little hot and bothered now, perhaps he’s earned a chance to see her with a little less on?

Then she turns, shifts her hair so she can still see him, and directs him to the fasteners on the dress.

His scomp sits on her waist, anchoring them to each other.

That’s when he notices she’s still wearing the belt.

He tenderly traces the belt around her waist, peering over her shoulder, careful not to look down her top, just to find the clip with his handprint on it. One finger slips beneath the belt so he can grip the clip with one hand, and he unfastens it.

As the belt slips away from her hips, he lifts the clip higher so he can look at it. He rests his chin on her shoulder, and rubs his thumb over the handprint shape. He’s dying to know how she found out about his symbol from his old unit. Or if it’s merely a coincidence? It can’t be, it’s too well coordinated with his old color. But that’s a question for later. Right now, he just wants her.

Instead he simply raises an eyebrow and shifts his eyes to her, to ask if she knew what the symbol meant to him. Her cheek brushes against his and she shyly looks away, smiling at the floor. So she did know. Well, it worked like a charm. His heart was already hers, but everything that happened tonight simply solidified that.

So he presses a kiss into her cheek, and squeezes her tight before reluctantly leaning back to look for the fastener of the dress.

He finds the fastener on the back of one hip, and places his hand over it. He leans forward again, his lips near her ear to ask a quiet, “May I?” While pressing another kiss into her cheek.

Her cheeks warm, and she smiles, nodding.

This time he simply rotates one shoulder back to examine the clasp, keeping as much of their bodies in contact as he can. What do ya know, the clasp is easy to undo with one hand, and the dress begins to unravel, exposing her back to him.

He can’t help but brush his knuckles against the soft skin of her back on it’s way back up to her shoulder, but his hand never quite reaches her shoulder…

“Don’t stop” she whispers, eyes drifting closed.

She can feel his breath on her neck as he takes a moment to prepare himself, then allows the tips of his fingers to ghost over her skin. He adds one finger at a time, each one feather light and smooth. His fingers find the edges of the exposed skin, but respectfully avoid dancing beyond the limit of what he can see.

Her brow furrows, but her eyes remain closed. She hums, searching for a way to tell him what she is hoping for. “Like you did in the gardens,” she manages as the back of his fingers continue to glide across her skin.

“Like this?” He checks, allowing his ring finger and pinky to slip beneath the fabric hanging loosely from her shoulders.

“Yes!” she breathes. He’s happy to see her brow is no longer creased.

“If that’s what you wish, My Starlight, then you shall have it.” The press of his hand becomes a little more firm, as his palm flattens against her and explores around her back. Slipping to her shoulders, he massages a bit, then finds his fingers already under the straps there. Using his thumb, he hesitantly pushes the strap off of his fingers a bit.

“What if we—?“ he begins, starting to push the strap off of her shoulder just a bit.

She can only nod and relax her shoulder, allowing him to slip it off a little easier.

Echo is sure he’s fallen asleep and is in the middle of the best kind of dream. She’s letting him remove her clothes!

He ever so gently slips his scomp link around her beneath the now loose material and runs the cold metal up her side to her shoulder. She gasps in pleasure and shivers again! Echo is in heaven.

“Would you allow me to remove this one too?” He queries, scomp holding steady near her shoulder, but ready to retract it should she say no. “I won’t take it personally if you say no, Sweetheart. I promise,” He whispers. Consent means everything to this man. He knows first hand what it is like to not get a say in something to be done to his own body and would never inflict that upon anyone.

“Don’t stop now,” her breathy voice does things to him, he discovers.

Slow enough that she could easily stop him if she changed her mind, he eases the strap off her shoulder and lets the fabric fall to the floor, pooling like stars reflected in a lake at her feet.

He holds his breath, realizing there’s no binder strap at her back nor shoulders.

She shifts a bit, arms covering her chest, and he can tell it’s from nerves. So he immediately jumps into action, doing everything he can think of to soothe her mind.

He leans forward and presses his lips to the back of her neck, and she gasps. It’s music to his ears.

His scomp arm returns to her waist, wrapping delicately around her front, and pulling her back to his chest. His other arm doing the same, but angled upwards at the elbow, across her chest, wrist happily settling between her breasts, hand sliding into place along her collarbone, just below the spot where her shoulder meets her neck.

Meanwhile, his lips leave more and more open-mouthed kisses down her neck and trailing across her shoulders.

She tilts her head to one side, exposing her neck to him, and he rewards her communicative nature with more passionate kisses, pressing her firmly into his chest, hand beginning to wander towards her breasts.

Finally he breaks away from kissing and sucking on her neck to look down at her body, exposed for his eyes only!

“Oh, Mesh’la!” He croons in her ear, she can feel him shiver as his eyes light up, hand finding her breast and squeezing a bit. “You are a sight for sore eyes!”

She clings to his arm at her waist, her other arm snaking behind her to the back of his neck

“Echo!” She breathes.

Echo’s restraint finally snaps. Stars, does he want her! Desperately!

His lips immediately return to her neck, this time finding that spot just beneath her ear. Renewed vigor driving every move as he groans into her, squeezing her to him, and sucking harder as she moans at his ministrations.

She whimpers, knees getting shaky.

He feels her trembling in his arms, and stops, but only to scoop her off her feet and carry her bridal style to the bed, sitting her upright in the middle of it. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart.” And he kisses her with everything he has, hand on her cheek, as he begins to crawl over her onto the bed, supporting her weight as he gently lowers her back, maneuvering himself between her legs.

Her hands cup his face, and she presses the kisses back, matching his passion and then some. Grasping at the untied bow tie again, she uses it as extra leverage to keep his lips in contact with hers as he hovers over her, one knee between hers.

He can feel the tingle of excitement racing through his body as the kisses become more and more desperate. His tongue exploring her mouth like nothing else exists. And his thigh, his real, flesh and blood thigh pressing into her core. He can feel her warmth, and her wetness through her panties as she presses back.

He begins to lower his body weight onto her, but is almost too careful not to let the weight of his metal limbs rest on her.

She breaks the kiss to smile and giggle a little. Echo can’t help but watch as she radiates joy.

“Love,” her half-lidded eyes, framed with her laughter find his own, “you can put your whole weight on me. All of you. You know damn well I am not delicate.”

“You shouldn't have to bear the weight of my alterations, pun intended.” He smirks.

She giggles. “As much as I love that you’re getting your sense of humor back, Hun, I’m not afraid of your alterations. I love them too. After all, they allowed us to meet. I am grateful, change doesn’t have to be a bad thing. We can decide if we want to make it into a good thing. It isn’t easy, and it takes a lot of hard work, but you won’t be alone for it. I’ll be right here. I rather like laying under you, Love.”

Echo chuckles nervously, tucking his head into her shoulder. Doing his best to make sure his headgear doesn’t end up in her face when he does so. The last thing he wants is to let any of his metal parts become the reason she gets a black eye.

He’s still partially hovering over her. His weight on his elbows on either side of her. Hips against hers, his thigh still pressed to her core. But his eyes are drawn down towards their hips when he feels her shifting beneath him. Ready to lift the awkward weight of his prosthesis off of her as soon as he can figure out which one is bothering her. But what he sees is not what he expected to see.

Slowly, sensually, her foot arches as she uses it to stroke up his thigh, over the seam between metal and man, over his ass, and around to rest her calf on the small of his back, using her calf to press his ass down. Encouraging him to put his full weight on her.

Echo groans, still next to her ear, allowing his eyes to fall shut, too aroused to do anything else. And the vision he’s met with is one he hopes he never forgets. The arch of her foot, pressed into the muscle of his leg. Her ankles at the same angle he’d noticed when he first saw her in heels when the night was only just beginning.

He’s drawn from his reverie, eyes popping open, when he feels her other foot beginning the same journey up his other leg.

Echo can only watch, wide eyed, and feel. Man oh man can he feel it! As she latches her ankles behind his hips, and tugs his full weight onto her, he starts to melt for her. He allows his legs to flatten so he can feel every inch of her, by her own volition, pressed tightly against every inch of skin he had left.

Her hands sneak up his back, under his unbuttoned shirt. Slowly, giving him a chance to say no if he wanted. But he has no reason to protest any of it. With one hand at his lower back, and one hand between his shoulder blades, she urges the rest of him down onto her body.

He lets his elbows slide out, until he can no longer feel the cool air between them, only the warmth of her. Only the softness of her skin as he nuzzles into her neck. He shifts his real arm so he can pet her hair, but finds himself momentarily stalled when he realizes he can feel her nipples against his chest. He wants to look down, to see her finally exposed to him. But first he needs to see the look in her eyes, make sure she’s still happy with this choice now that his full weight is on her.

So his eyes flick up, to find her eyes so much more full of love than he ever expected anyone could ever feel towards him.

His hand finally makes it to her hair, stroking it. And then moving to brush the back of his knuckles against her cheek.

A flash of mischief crosses her eyes briefly, and she manages to catch his knuckles with a kiss.

Echo’s own smile brightens. And he finds his eyes already tracing her lips, before he gives in and presses her into the bed with a kiss. Pushing harder into her with every second that passes.

She licks at his lips this time, opening his mouth, and searching for his tongue.

Echo obliges with a moan, his tongue surging forward to meet hers.

Teeth clash as both tongues search deeper, wanting to know every inch of each other.

With a final suck on her tongue, Echo pulls back to gaze into her eyes. His need to confirm that he’s still got it. The hunger in her eyes, all he needs to keep going.

Then his kisses trail down her neck

All the way to her breasts

The way she tends to subtly cover her chest tells him she’s not very confident about her breasts, so he decides to spend a little extra time pouring his love into them.

She begins to mewl beneath him, her arms and legs clinging tightly to him. He’s impressed by the strong grip of her legs, giving away how much she loves him.

So he sucks harder, and licks slower, and plays longer.

Her hand moves to the back of his neck, holding him to her breast, telling him without words how much she enjoys the way he’s loving on her.

He begins to squeeze and knead her other breast, and lets a few fingers just barely brush over her nipple.

Her legs get impossibly tighter around him.

He pulls back, all but gasping for air, and cursing the fact that he needs air at all. His face turns to the breast that only received the attention of his hand, and she can feel his breath against her skin as he suddenly lowers back down to even out his love-making, now pouring his devotion into this side.

His hand slides down her hip, until he finds the waistband of her underwear, and begins to play with the hemline that rests on her hip while he continues to lavish her breasts.

She rests her hand over his to encourage him to keep it there.

He can feel the growing wetness in her underwear as it rubs on his abdomen.

Echo chuckles, the vibrations from his laugh doing a number on her breast. They’re both groaning now.

His hand traces the hemline of her panties around the curve of her leg and towards the spot that’s aching for him.

She huffs in protest when the soft touch on her hip slips away for a second. That is, until she bucks her hips upwards again, and finds his palm waiting to cup her core through her panties.

His fingers rest near the waistband, his palm sits where she wants it most.

One of her hands still cups the back of Echo’s head, the other now holds his hand against her sex, so she can buck against it repeatedly.

Echo begins to break away from her breasts so he can look down and begin to allow his fingers to dance along the skin on either side of the panties.

He still can’t believe this is real. She’s nearly naked in front of him, using his own hand to massage parts of her so private he thought he’d only see them in his dreams.

He’s breathing heavy, moaning with each thrust of her pelvic bone against his hand. His tallest finger begins to ever so slightly tug the waistband of her panties down. He almost doesn't even notice his thumb beginning to slide under the fabric too.

“Yes, Echo!” She breaths, head thrown back.

“May I… remove them?” He asks, hesitantly, as though any words will shatter the moment.

“Please!” She’s doing her best to refocus her eyes on his face, but he’s rather proud she’s already so infatuated with what he’s doing. She’s breathing heavily as she gasps out, “just rip them off, Love, I have no intention to unwrap my legs, if you’re alright with that.”

He looks up at her, pressing his palm against her core, meeting her thrust for thrust. “Are, uhh… are you sure?” He whispers, “This lace is really pretty on you. I’d hate to ruin something I’d love to see on you again.”

She laughs. “I’ll get more, I promise. Maybe even a complete set next time,” she winks, “but I need to feel you inside me!” She takes a breath before continuing, “use your scomp to rip through them, please!” No longer caring how desperate she sounded.

“Yes, Ma’am!” He breathes. How can he deny her when she begs so pretty! And, she’d so willingly accepted his metal parts without even thinking about it. Echo felt himself falling harder for her with every passing second together.

She props herself up on her elbows to watch, as Echo finally wraps his fingers under the gentle lace, to lift it from her skin. He takes a second to admire the soft patterns before bringing his scomp to the lace and brrrrrrrrrrrrr-ing right through the fabric just above each leg.

He looks up at her, still in disbelief that he just ripped the panties off his partner on their first night together. Only to find her biting her lip as she watches him.

She leans forward, cupping his cheek in her hand and kissing him so deeply, he forgets he’s still holding the shreds of her underwear. Right up until he feels them getting tugged from his hand.

He looks down to see her stuff it into the back pocket of his pants. His wide-eyes return to hers, a hopeful question in them.

“Keep them, Love. And maybe you can help me pick out the next pair,” she says with a kiss to his cheek.

He feels a shiver race down his spine as he surges forward to press another passionate kiss to her lips. But when her wetness touches his abdomen, with no barrier this time, he breaks the kiss in a gasp.

“Oooooh, that feels good!” He moans, reaching between them to once again cup her core with his palm, but this time without the hindrance of that last layer of fabric.

“Echo! It does, I agree, but I need you inside me!!”

Infatuated with her, and how much he loves her, he swallows hard, then licks his lips, focusing all his attention on her lower lips and starts to finger her, tracing her lower lips torturously slowly, dragging it out.

One finger slides down either side of the labia, opening the labia and running a finger up the inside, one on each side and then together back down the middle, pressing into her ever so slightly. Dipping inside a teasing amount, and letting his fingers explore her inner folds. Teasing her entrance, Before a finger slips slowly inside.

Her back arches for a moment as she groans with wild abandon, and he catches a nipple in his mouth.

Slowly, sensually, he pulls his fingers out, and ever more slowly pushes them back in, once, twice.

And then he feels it. That spongy spot, deep within her. He adds pressure to that spot, wiggling his fingers in tiny swirling movements as he does so.

Her back arches almost immediately, tugging her nipple from his mouth with a pop, and her noises become even more desperate and needy.

“There it is,” he whispers, watching her face as he pulls out and inserts a second finger with the first this time, before continuing to massage her g spot.

The room explodes into white ribbons of hyperspace behind her eyelids as she clings to Echo as tightly as her fingers will allow.

Echo’s hand is coated in her wetness, and he can feel her walls tugging him deeper in before losing their rhythm and fluttering around his fingers.

When she cries out, he starts to slow his pace, massaging her through it, and coaxing her back to the here and now.

When she opens her eyes, she finds his forehead against her own, eyes watching for hers with rapt attention.

“That’s it, I’m here, my Starlight. Dank ferrik that was hot!”

When she blushes and giggles he knows she’s returned from hyperspace and slowly extracts his fingers.

She gasps at the empty feeling, but watches with rapt attention as he brings his fingers directly to his mouth. His eyes practically rolling back and closing as he indulges in the taste of her, sucking every last drop from his own digits.

She begs him to put something back inside her. Fingers, tongue, cock, even his scomp (though she doubts he’s ready for that); any of them, as long as he’s iniside her.

“I don’t think my manhood works anymore, Love.” Echo finally voices his concern, rather ashamed he didn’t say it before they started. What if she rejects him now? He’s not sure he can take that.

Instead she giggles. “Maybe only a partner has the right tools for the job now,” she whispers against his headgear. “And you’re still wearing too much.” She’s already begun to peel the shirt from his shoulders. Once it’s on its way to the floor, she moves to unbutton and unzip his pants.

It’s all Echo can do to steady his breathing and watch, wide-eyed, as she pulls the clothes from his body faster than he expected.

Once they’re both nude, she flips him onto his back, and grinds down on him.

He grips her hips as tightly as he dares, not hesitating to groan loudly with every swirl of her hips.

Happily watching from below as she massages his length with her wetness. Surprised as he begins to feel himself growing and getting hard beneath her.

Maybe she was right!

She smiles as she begins to feel it too.

Echo revels in the feeling of finally having her most intimate parts in contact with his own, still amazed that this is real. As her hips swivel over his own he lets his gaze wander lovingly over her body.

He finds his attention drawn to her breasts again. His boldness growing, he asks if he can suck on her nipple.

She complies without hesitation, leaning down to deposit one into his open mouth. Relishing the feeling of him licking and sucking every inch of it.

“Echo!” She whispers.

He detaches, wide eyes finding hers immediately, mind very hazy from everything she’s doing to him.

“I need you,” she gasps, hips still swivelling on his. “I need you.”

Echo’s restraint snaps with a thrust of his hips, and he flips her onto her back with gusto. She squeaks in surprise, but her eyes tell him she’s excited. He looks down, and finds himself surprised at how much of himself she’s managed to coax out of hiding.

He looks back up at her with excitement as he lines himself up, searching her expression for any hesitation.

Instead she smirks at him and bites her lip, and he feels her leg around his hips, adding just enough pressure to start slipping inside.

Their breaths pick up, but their gaze holds steady, caught in the trance of each other as he slowly slides into place.

He’s certain that her determination to hold his gaze and the way she gasps while staring deep into his eyes is the hottest thing he’s ever seen!

Once in, they both hold still for a moment. Eyes and mouths conveying a thousand feelings their words cannot express while they gasp for breath and sneak kisses and nibbles.

He shivers, and she clenches around him, making him moan and involuntarily thrust.

“I’m not gonna last long, my Starlight,” he gasps out, “can I move?”

“Not yet… need a minute… been awhile,” she mumbles between breaths, clutching him tighter.

After a few deep breaths, her chest heaves a little less, and he raises his eyebrows, touching his forehead to hers. A silent question.

A mischievous spark lights her eyes, and she locks her ankles together behind him, biting her lip, and shaking her head, no. “Let’s enjoy this for a bit,” she teases.

They lay there, eyes also locked together, beginning to pant again. This time with the effort of not moving.

There was only one thing she knew for certain, only one thought reverberating around the inside of her head: he felt so good inside her!

When she clenched again, Echo’s eyes squeezed shut, and his head moved to the crook of her neck as he groaned in her ear.

“Dank ferrik, Love,” he was shaking with the effort of holding still now, “not sure… I can… take much more…”

As a means of agreement, she began to move her hips in small circles.

With a loud moan of ecstasy, Echos arms tightened around her, securing her to him with all his strength, “C-Can I? Please?” He didn’t even try to hide the desperation in his voice.

“YES!”

And with that he began thrusting to meet her hips with a feral energy.

His open mouth finding hers, tongues almost instantly seeking companionship to cling to and massage.

Within moments both were struggling to keep their rhythm.

Echo’s lips break from hers with a gasp.

“Where?” She could hear him holding back, but barely.

“Outside of me,” was all she could manage.

Barely two thrusts later, and Echo hastily pulled out, careful to only paint her abdomen from the outside.

She gasped when he removed himself, instantly missing the feeling of him.

Even at the pinnacle of his climax, he knew she hadn’t finished yet. So he replaced his cock with two fingers.

Barely in control of his own limbs, his fingers thrust in rather quickly.

But the way she arched and let out a high pitched squeak next to the ear wells in his headset was almost enough to make him cum again as his length dances across his own mess on her stomach. His fingers search for the elusive spot inside her, as her moans serenade him with each shift of a finger inside her.

He curls his fingers inside her, and her moans go up an octave.

Echo smirks, an idea on the tip of his tongue, and he shifts his weight.

The world around her is a blur, but she’s aware of Echo’s movement beside her and inside of her, until he suddenly pulls out.

She sits up with a gasp. She wasn’t done yet. But the scene she’s met with is better than she expected.

Echo, still smirking and watching her no doubt disheveled expressions with rapture, is arranging her legs on his shoulders, his hot breath dancing over the spot where she needs him the most.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you there. Just lie back, my Starlight.” He whispers, inching closer to her wetness with each word. He holds her gaze for a moment and then dives in, eyes still fixed on her face. He licks a long stripe up the expanse of her slit and watches as she throws her head back in ecstasy with a loud moan.

He pulls back slightly to give her a moment to breathe, only to blow gently across her wetness. She squirms, hands searching for his in the sheets.

Ever the perceptive ARC, he spots the way her hands feel for his, and he captures her fingers between his before diving in for more.

He licks up and down, and lets his tongue dip in and out. Her whimpers serenade his every move and her legs tremble on his shoulders. She’s close now. He can feel it.

So he exchanges his tongue for two fingers and latches onto her clit, sucking hard.

White hot stars explode in her mind's eye, as she loses all control of her rhythm, fluttering around his fingers for a second time. Her hips tighten around his hand and shoulders, and her nails rake his back.

He slowly pumps his fingers in and out, grounding her, and working her through her climax as her body begins to relax, still wrapped tightly around him. He glances down to remove his fingers, enjoying the sight of them both coated in each other’s release. But his eyes quickly return to hers, and he moves back up to cuddle her, keeping close watch until her eyes focus on his again and her breathing returns to a normal level.

“How was that, my Starlight?” He asks with a giddy laugh.

Her eyes narrow playfully, she’s still panting just a touch. “Was that your first time since… uh…?”

“Yeah,” he laughs nervously, tucking his nose into her neck, careful as his headgear nears her face.

“STARS, Echo! You must have a lot more experience than I do!” She starts to get a bit nervous.

He scoops her into his arms, holding her close.

“Not experience, dreams. Dreams of all the things I’d heard my brothers say worked well that I wanted to try, a few ideas of my own, and a handful of things that that outfit you wore tonight made me want to do. Dank Ferrik, I might need you to wear it again sometime, you looked amazing!”

“Need, huh?” She asks, somewhere between eager and curious.

He laughs, slightly embarrassed, and then takes a breath and just embraces it, “Yeah, need.” He declares, eyes bright with a fire she’d only dreamed she could ever find.

She giggles, and he decides that all the noises she’s made tonight just made the top of the list of all his favorite sounds in the galaxy.

They hold each other close for a few moments, until she shives slightly.

“Let me clean us up, my Starlight. No, you stay right there. I want to do this for you.”

She relaxes back into the bed and just watches as he disappears into the fresher and reemerges with a soft, wet towel which he proceeds to use to gently wipe between her legs and then absorb his own mess from her abs.

They chit chat as he drops the towel off the side of the bed in his rush to feel her skin against his own again, wrapping them both in the sheets. His hand runs slowly up and down her back, coaxing her to sleep on him, more content than he, a trooper designed and raised for combat, has ever known before.

Echo shifts, becoming aware of the world around him again, and snuggling into the soft warmth in his arms. He opens his eyes to find the gorgeous woman he’s been pining over for the longest time still wrapped in his arms, legs tangled with his, contentment on her sleeping face.

He watches her for a moment, the soft light in the room making her look like the ethereal Angels from the Moons of Iago.

She seems to sense his alertness and tries to find her way back to the land of the waking, brow furrowing.

Hmm, Echo finds himself needing to fix the discontent of her expression, so he covers her in a barrage of kisses. She wakes with a giggle.

They lay there chatting for a few minutes, enjoying the lack of needing to be anywhere for a while.

A few more unhurried kisses later, they decide to get up to make the most of the morning before their ride gets there.

So they start their morning routines, but this time with a lot more sweet touches and long gazes than usual.

He exits the bathroom to find her wearing his shirt from the night before, with her lack of any undergarments peeking out beneath it, totally unbuttoned in the front, barely hiding anything, and is instantly aroused again.

Offers her a hand with a smirk, and pulls her to him when she takes it, beaming at her.

Both his hand and scomp slip underneath the shirt to wrap around her waist, and she smiles radiantly back. So he kisses her, and pins her to the wall, hard but gentle, like there’s no tomorrow. Slipping a leg between hers, he aches to feel her wetness on his own skin again. Her knee sensually slides up his leg to wrap around his waist. Still barely believing last night was real, Echo’s hand moves to her thigh, gripping it tightly. They still have a little while until Crosshair arrives to pick them up, plenty of time… for round two. After all, they are both still in need of a long, hot shower…

Please don’t steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog to share instead of reposting it!

Taglist: (I gathered some of these from the reblogs and comments, I hope that's ok! If you want me to take you off the list just dm me!) @amorfista (I promised it would be up soon! Hehe!) @the-hexfiles @starrylothcat @daimyosprincess @miss-mouse99

#a gala-ctic evening #tbb echo x reader #tbb arc echo x reader #arc echo x reader #arc echo tbb x reader #tcw arc echo x reader #tcw echo x reader #zenith writes

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slasher-male-wife · 1 year

Note

hello hello ! been a while since ive requested. could i get og micheal, thomas hewitt, jason, and the sinclaires with a really out-there gothic bf? im talking the whole nine miles, extravagante makeup, very gothic clothes, loud goth music, all of it. i just wanna see what their reactions would be! thank you :]

also shhhhh take the dabloons i gave you, even if it isnt applicable on tumblr. please i have too many dabloons i must share my wealth.

- 🫀

Of course I can heart anon. So I was goth for about a year before I just kind of wasn't interested in it anymore and I've had my fair share of out there looks. I've dyed my hair every color under the rainbow, I've drawn on horrible big eyeliner, etc. But I still hold an interest in goth looks, music, etc.

Slashers with an out there, goth male reader

Includes: Og Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Jason Voorhees, and the Sinclair brothers

Warnings: Slashers being a little mean, mentions of self harm and mental health issues, mentions of stalking, kinda implied Stockholm syndrome

Og Michael Myers

Now Michael first started stalking you because of how out there you looked. He was so curious about your big hair and huge eyeliner.

He'd watch you very often, learning that this is just how you are and not actually a costume. This just drew him in even more.

Now as for when you start dating Michael will be a little jealous because of all the attention you're getting from strangers. He doesn't care how you dress it's the fact that other people feel the need to comment on it and constantly look at you that bothers him.

He's not too confused about why a man is wearing makeup because he doesn't fully understand gender norms but he still wonders why you do it.

I know goth music is a wide set of genres but I feel like he'd like the slow and dark music. He honestly might put on a few of your records if you're out and he's at home.

Overall Michael doesn't care so much how you dress but it is something he likes and thinks you should keep doing.

Thomas Hewitt

I wouldn't say he's scared the first time he sees you but he is kinda freaked out. Thomas is a sheltered Christian man so seeing someone like you is freaky for him. Although if he sees you wearing rosary's he's feeling a little better.

After getting to actually know you he sees that you're not that scary and that he doesn't really mind how you look. Although his family will give you odd looks and rude comments about how men shouldn't wear makeup.

As for the music Thomas is a little sacred. I know that everyone thinks he would listen to metal but if we're being honest he was raised on country music and gospel music. He doesn't mind your music it's just new and a little scary.

He'll also worry about you getting hot in all black clothing. He'll try to get you to wear lighter colors but will give up when he realizes that it's not going to happen anytime soon.

Jason Voorhees

Pamela warned him about people like you. Goth's, who according to her are all depressed and cut themselves. But upon meeting you Jason learns that's not true. You're actually pretty happy and you just enjoy dark music and clothes.

He'll watch every morning that you put on makeup. He loves seeing your process as you create thin sharp eyebrows and big black eyeliner. A little confused about why a man is wearing makeup but he honestly doesn't care too much about it

He doesn't mind the music. I feel like Jason never really listens to music anyway so this isn't too big of a deal for him

He's also glad that you don't really mind being around death. Obviously he's going to keep you away from the people he kills but it at least means that you're not going to hate him for it.

He's a little freaked out by the music. No one he's come across has had this kind of music before so it's new to him. Start off slow with The cure and Siouxsie and the Banshees.

Vincent Sinclair

Out of all of the Sinclair brothers he's the most supportive. His mother would have hated you and he loves that. Especially if you have dyed hair, piercing and or tattoos.

Speaking of dyed hair, if you have it he's obsessed with it. He'll convince Bo to go buy you more when your roots grow out and he'll help you with dying it.

He loves goth music. He loves the instrumental elements and how dramatic it sounds. I have a feeling if you gave him pictures of what some goth musicans look like he'll make some of the wax figures look like them.

He'll steal clothes from victims if he thinks you'll like the clothes and probably makes some accesories for you. He'll kinda treat you like a goth barbie doll with how he want's to constantly dress you up and do your makeup.

If his brothers ever make any kind of rude comments he's quick to shut them down. He loves you so much and he won't let Bo give you shit for wearing makeup.

Bo Sinclair

I'm not gonna lie, he's gonna think it's a sex thing. You quickly shut that down and he realizes you just genuinly like the style and music. But he also never even knew about the music element.

But like Vincent he thinks his mother would hate you and he loves that. Probably one of the reasons he keeps you alive.

He'll think you're a little gay for wearing makeup but point out how he is literally dating a man and he'll quiet down really quick.

Doesn't mind the music and will probably start listening to some of the bands you listen to as well.

He doesn't get the fashion and thinks it's just for attention but over time he won't care as much and understand it's more about self expression.

While he does (lovingly) make fun of you for being goth. If anyone else does it, especially a victim he's not having mercy on them. Sure he thinks you look ridiculous sometimes but only he can say that.

If you have piercings and tattoos he will encourage you to get more. Maybe will drop the idea of getting his named tattooed but if you don't want it then he won't force it.

Lester Sinclair

You scare him a little. But after talking for a little bit and seeing how sweet you actually are, he falls for you very hard.

Again, like his brothers he loves you even more because his mother would hate you.

Thinks your music is scary but he won't tell you that.

Loves watching you get ready and how you turn from some normal dude into a super hot vampire.

He loves to play with your hair if it's big and teased up. He knows it's crunchy form hairspray but please let him touch it Y/n.

Will gift you things made of bones and animal skins that he thinks look gothic. He's glad to have an s/o who's so into death. It makes it easy for him to talk to you about his job.

Will defend you against his brothers. Lester won't put up with Bo calling you freaky or asking if you cut yourself. Honestly I can see him getting physical with Bo if it gets to that point of him being an asshole.

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mccnstruck · 2 years

Text

no book can put my love for you into words

characters - kazuha x gn!reader

warnings - none!

a/n - you could tell what game i’m playing a lot based off of the name in the made up story ,,,,, i really want kazuha to be real i want annotated books which shows how badly someone is in love with me :((( anyways, enjoy!

-kazuha whos love language is literal books

- for any milestone, whether its your anniversary or your birthday, he gifts you an annotated book. It fills with sticky notes and pen smudges and everything that made kazuha the dork he is. in every title page, was always some color code in the front, with a special note included.

“to my love, who could sit with me as the world was collapsing and i’d be happy to be in their arms.” you smiled, as you instantly knew this book was going to be dystopian based.

- his books filled with different colors, highlighted notes, and pen leaking onto the pages before. you could see his thoughts engulf you into the story, and you would find some poorly drawn emoji, causing you to giggle.

- the times you find a sticky note, it contained of his analysis on some aspect on the book. whether it on how rushed the main character’s and love interest’s relationship was, or an observation of a character’s action, it never failed to make you think more deeply.

- when you find pink sticky tabs, you feels kazuha’s love take you into a warm embrace, as the highlighted words held such meaning to it that you would never find other wise.

“‘ Mari screamed at him, the moonlight letting her glow in the spotlight. “I’ve loved you for so long! I don’t know why you always doubt yourself, saying you’re not enough for my love? Why are you always making decisions for me?! Why can’t i love the person I want? It’s always sacrifice to find ME a better person, but i wanted YOU!’

Hero snapped his head back, watching Mari’s hair flow in the threads of the wind. And in the moment, he knew he made a mistake. He was right about not being the best person for Mari. But, he was what Mari wanted. And who was he to deny her request, if he was trying to make her happy in the first place?”

you look at kazuha’s scribbling. the entirety of the paragraph was highlighted, as a pink sticky tab was attached on the side. you couldn’t help but giggle when you saw hearts scattered on the page and a “chefs kiss” written on the corner.

you shiver, as you felt a kiss to your shoulder. “enjoying the read, i see?”

he looks over you, and smiles. you feel a kiss on your forehead, and he walks away before you could get distracted once more.

- at the end of the book, one of two thing are written. either there is a haiku written by him, or a note saying a variety of words of encouragement.

you glance over the sticky note.

"i love you dove, make sure to wipe your tears with a tissue <3"

you wipe your teared-up face. you didn't think that last chapter was gonna emotionally destroy you.

"dove, what happened?"

you look up at kazuha, as he walks up to you in distress. when he finds the book at the last page, he softly laughs. "i see."

he wipes his thumbs underneath your eyes, and presses his lips on your cheek. "do you wanna tell me what happened in the last chapter?"

you nod and lay down on his lap as he listens to you ramble about the book, wiping your tears in the process.

- library dates are a must in your relationship. as regular visitors of your local library, you both are acquainted with most of the librarians, and they are acquainted with the snickering and the softs gazes held behind the fiction aisle.

your finger glazes across the books, as the number in your head starts to fade from your memory.

"326.75, or was it 326.57? i don't remember....crap, i don't think i remember."

when you turn to go back to the computer, a hand grabs your wrist and pulls you to another aisle.

"what the hell- kazuha?"

he grins and intertwins your fingers into his, thumbs glazing over your hand.

you eye him suspiciously. "what....what are you planning?"

he distorts his face, mocking distress. "what? can't i look at the love of my life with no reason?"

"not in a library, no."

he leans towards your face, his lips brushing over yours. "what's the exception to a library?"

you tighten your hold on kazuha's hands. "a library isn't a place for your devious acts- mmm!"

his lips captured yours before you could fully finish your sentence, and you couldn't help but succumb into the sensation. his hands travelled up your arms, and finally landed a place around your neck, tilting it to give him a better hold. your knees felt weak, and your face felt hot, the number in your head was completly forgotten. you'd almost forgot you were in a library too with the way he holds you, had you not heard footsteps come closer. you push him away as you hide your burning face, pretending to find a book.

you hear a voice call to you both. "you're finding everything ok?"

kazuha turns to the librarian and smiles. "yep! we're fine, thank you."

the librarian walks away, and you turn to each other and softly laugh, the sensation of each other still remaining on your lips.

kazuha,,, what a guy,,,,

reposting or plagiarizing of my works is not allowed under any circumstances.

#📝 —writing #🗣 — screaming #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #kazuha *heart eyes*#kazuha #genshin impact headcanons #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin kazuha #writing #genshin headcanons #modern kazuha #gender neutral reader

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anukulee · 9 months

Text

I Love Hating You (Loki Request)

Requested by @smolvenger

Everything had been normal until it wasn't, Carrie had just settled down from a long day at work, nursing a warm drink in one hand, her phone clutched tightly in the other. Her screen is already covered in the blue exterior of Tumblr, something she found herself seeking even more today. She didn't feel drawn to her computer and discovered her phone screen preferable.

Carrie had just begun scrolling, watching as posts from her mutual friends and favorite writers filled her screen. She barely had time to react for suddenly a flash of blue entered her line of sight. She blinked merely once, thinking the flash was merely a result of her exhaustion from work. Yet when her eyes opened once more, she was faced with the very last person that she expected to see, as the love of her life was currently right in front of her.

His jet-black hair fell down to his neck, his eyes now green as his signature color, no longer under Thanos's control. He held a blue glowing object in his chained hands that Carrie knew could only be one thing. A gasp escaped her lips upon seeing him, for never in her wildest dreams did she ever think she would be faced with such a sight. "Loki," was all she could manage to utter.

It was upon Carrie uttering this, that snapped Loki's attention towards her. As with his still chained hands, he pulled his muzzle off his mouth now no longer having to deal with the Avengers insisting he keep it on, along with the tesseract now dropping to the floor. Yet rather than be greeted, with the familiar sight of one of his tunnels, instead, he was faced with a woman, with hair as light as a twig, eyes as brown as an oak tree with the slightest bit of green in them, her gaze focused solely on him, dressed in what looked to be Midgaridan clothing. Causing Loki to be even more confused, the gaze that she held seemed to be more confused than frightened. As he stepped forward yet rather than retreat, this woman seemed to show little fear. "How do you know my name?"

"How couldn't I not know the name of my future husband."

"I beg your pardon, your future what?"

"Husband?"

"Yes."

"As if I would be married to the likes of you, sure you must be jesting?"

"I never jest unlike you, Loki."

A little bit of Loki was relieved upoun hearing this, delighted that this woman had put aside her so called claims to make him her husband. "You act as if you know me," he spit ever the bitter tone, hopping that the topic would be put far behind them. For it would be beneath Loki to marry someone such as her wouldn't it? Thus what encouraged Loki's next reply still as cunning as the rest, meant to stop this before she pushed to deep. Unluckily for her, she knew far better then he did, so despite his bitter words, she never falted.

"I do."

"You don't."

"Oooh, but I do."

"Even if you did that doesn't answer my question."

"Doesn't it," the woman asked with a ghost of a smile crossing her lips.

"No, it doesn't so you either shall tell me how you know my name, or you will regret it."

"Will I," the woman asked her hands crossing against her chest.

"Yes, you will," Loki said his voice edging darker in an attempt to make his point clear. Yet what would usually seem as threatening lost its effect; likely due to the fact that Loki was still submissive to the chains that were wrapped around him.

"Considering you are the one in chains, I don't think you are in any place to be making demands of me."

"We shall see about that." With as much gust as he could, despite his position Loki tried to free himself of Stark's chains, yet seemed to fail to do so. A groan escaped Loki's lips in his lack of effort.

Despite Loki's struggle, the woman he found himself faced with seemed quite amused at his struggle. At this, she received a deadly glare from Loki's eyes, one that seemed to not falter. "How is that working out for you trickster?"

"Trickster?"

"Would you rather me call you trickster boy?"

While some might take amusement in this name, Loki didn't whatsoever, as his gaze seemed to get darker. For how dare one such as you speak to him in such a manner. Loki hadn't felt such irritation at one since Lady Sif (whom he never saw why Thor prefer her company). Through her body was nothing to sneeze about that he would ever admit it. Loki's lack of amusement leaked into his next words, his fist clenching despite the chains. "You dare to speak to me in such a way?"

"Don't you like it when a woman tests you?"

A look of confusion crossed Loki's face, one mirroring the one he would've worn when first meeting Hela. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard what I said."

"Even if I did, why would you know such things?"

"You could say I am a fan."

"If you are such a fan, why do you insist on tormenting me?"

"If not me who else?"

"For someone who has just met me, you seem quite confident considering you are dealing with a god."

"A god who is currently chained if I recall."

"Chains that I shall soon be out of."

"Why would you want to be out of them, seeing as how alluring you look in them."

"I beg your pardon," Loki asked once more wearing a confused look at this woman's remarks.

"You heard me."

"Did I?"

"We both know you did."

"Then why might you say, perhaps another smart remark."

"There's the pot calling the kettle black."

"I beg your pardon, what did you just say?"

"Here I thought one burdened with glorious purpose would already know this."

"As if I have the time to learn your Migardian slang. I have other things to take care of."

"Such as what?"

"That is none of your business."

"Considering I am the only one who might be helping you, I would be a little more grateful."

"And how might you assist me?"

"By getting you out of those chains."

"And you would do that how?"

"By unlocking the keyhole."

"And you think I can't do this on my own."

"We both know if you could've you would've already done it by now."

"Because you know so much about me."

"I happen to think I do."

"Confident aren't you?"

"Trickster you may be the god of mischief, but let me assure you, that you are nothing compared to what I have had to

handle."

"Why am I, not surprised, you Midgardian always did seem to lack manners."

"Confident as ever I see that Thanos's control is no longer hold of you."

"How do you know of him?"

"I will tell you, once you ask nicely."

"And why should I?"

"You want out of those chains don't you," she asked pointing at Loki's chains.

"Yes."

"Then I suggest you ask politely like the gentleman I know you are."

"If I ask then you shall tell me why you seem to know so much about me."

"Whatever you want handsome."

"I shall consider your offer."

"I would be quick."

"And why should I?"

A smirk crossed the woman's features as she walked in Loki's direction, going so far as to pick up the glowing tesseract.

"If you would like this back, I suggest you think quickly my dear handsome trickster."

"Minx."

"Why thank you, now what do you say," the woman asked setting the tesseract closer to her. Her hand now holding out ready to take Loki's hand.

"If I must, through I should at least know your name."

"I suppose I shall grant you the name of your future wife."

"Seriously this again?"

"Yes, again."

"Why?"

"Because we both know that's what's going to happen."

"In your wildest dreams," Loki remarked with a scuff.

"Those have come true, so why shouldn't I believe this might not?"

"Because I detest you."

"Do you really?"

"Yes, I do."

"Whatever you say husband," the woman teased.

"Call me that again and I will."

"You will what?" The woman's arms were skeptical at best, given the lack of threat that Loki held at the moment.

At that moment Loki knew he must give in for now. "Nothing."

"You sure?"

"Positive, now don't make me reconsider my choice, woman."

"Carrie."

"What?"

"That's my name."

"Such a pretty name for an irritating woman."

"You won't think of me like that forever."

"Won't I?"

"You won't."

"How I detest you."

A shrug went across Carrie's shoulders. "At least you might love to hate me, better than nothing."

"Just help me out already," Loki said far tired of the bickering.

"Whatever you wish, my love," Carrie said as with a glow of Loki's seidr a key popped into Carrie's hand.

"This key shall open anything even Stark's chains," Loki said whilst Carrie examined it.

"I see put first say the magic words."

"And those are?"

"Please."

"Never."

"Then you won't get out."

"Truly?"

"Try me."

"Fine, please," Loki said in no mood for more bickering with Carrie.

With a quick click of the lock, Loki was soon out of the chains, but Carrie's gaze still lingered on him. "Now what

trickster?"

"I hate you," is all Loki said.

"For now."

"No, forever."

"You sure about that?"

"Yes."

"Here I was about to offer you to room with me, but if you would rather be out then who am I to stop you," Carrie proclaimed with a shrug.

"Fine, I shall stay, but as soon as I can get out I will."

"Whatever you say," Carrie as it was with these words did the story begin as with one teleportation, a story was truly about to begin. One that would result in Loki finding something he never expected to find, but that is a story to tell in another universe, for this was only the start of Loki loving to hate his soon-to-be bride.

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omgsquee2001 · 1 year

Text

Love Conquers Fear: Part 2

~~~~

~~~~~

It had been a few days since [Y/N] had gone into the forest, and she had avoided it ever since she saw the dragon. Though she didn’t believe the rumors that dragons were blood thirsty monsters that killed everything in their path, but it was still terrifying. There were times when she would be out in the market and look towards the dark woods. For some reason, she felt compelled to go to the woods. Like something was calling to her. She would see a flash of the reptilian yellow eyes, the brown head, the sharp teeth and spikes. When that image flashed before her eyes, she felt even more compelled to go to the woods, to see that dragon again.

~~~~

The sun was starting to set, painting the woods around White Bridge a beautiful orange and red. Eddie, now in his human form, was pacing back and forth within the confines of his cave. His black and white shirt, his blue vest, and his pants fluttering as he did. His curly, long brown hair bounced and moved as he did. He had really screwed up this time. Not only had he let a human woman see him, but he Bonded with her. She wasn’t even another dragon like him and Steve! She was a human person. Never, in the history of Dragons and Humans, had a Dragon Bonded with a Human. Bonding was exactly as it sounded. That’s how a lot of Soulmates met each other. The Bond connected everyone, but normally, humans bonded with humans and Dragons bonded with Dragons, and so on. This might be the first time in history that has ever happened. He could feel the pull of the Bond right now, compelling him to not only go to Steve, but to go to the Human as well. He could feel her confusion and turmoil. He wanted to go to her now and comfort her. He wanted to assure her that everything was going to be okay. He wanted to hold her close, he wanted to take her flying with him, he wanted to kiss her. Before he could go further into his thoughts, Eddie heard the flapping of wings, familiar wings. He saw the shadow of a Ukrainian Ironbelly, then the shadow slowly disappeared to show the shadow of a man. Steve walked in hauling two deer, bucks, behind him. One things that separated Dragons, like Steve and Eddie, from Humans, was one, humans couldn’t shift into animal forms, and two, Dragons could lift ten times their normal weight, even in their human forms. Steve looked at Eddie and could tell something was wrong. He put down his kill and walked over, placing his hands on his mate’s upper arms.

“Hey? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Steve asked. Eddie let out a shaky sigh and looked at his mate, fear in his eyes.

“I fucked up, Steve. I really fucked up this time.” Eddie said. Steve frowned and gently cupped Eddie’s cheeks with his hands.

“What do you mean?”

~~~

[Y/N] tossed and turned in her sleep. She was having a dream. Not just any dream, she was dreaming that she was flying. On the back of a Hungarian Horntail. She could tell because of the spikes and the brown of the scales. She looked to the side as the wind whipped at her hair and her clothes. Her eyes widened. Beside her, was a Ukrainian Ironbelly. The gray color of its body was a stark contrast to the blue of the sky and the green of the woods around them. What confused [Y/N] the most, was that she felt, happy. She felt at home on the back of the Hungarian Horntail. She wasn’t terrified, or scared. She wasn’t afraid that she was going to get eaten, or be taken back to their nest. She felt, loved, and appreciated. Like everything in the world made sense.

Her eyes jolted open, sweat beaded across her skin. She sat up in bed, looking down at her hands. Something had happened when she made eye contact with that Hungarian Horntail. She didn’t think it was possible, but, had she and that dragon, Bonded? That would explain the dreams she had been having. It would also explain why she felt drawn to the woods. [Y/N] looked up with a determined face. She pulled on her brown pants, her white shirt and pulled a cloak around her shoulders. She strapped a dagger to her belt. It was better to be safe than sorry. She had heard horror stories of adventurers dying horrible deaths because they weren’t prepared enough for what lurked in the woods. She quietly opened the door to her room. Angus lifted his head up, curios as to where his friend was going. [Y/N] looked back at her dog and shook her head.

“No, Angus. You stay. I’ll be back soon.” She whispered. With a whine, Angus lay his head down on his paws and went back to sleep. He knew better than to try to follow when [Y/N] told him to stay. She crept out of the house, wincing a little bit when the front door of her house made a creak. She waited, her lantern hanging in her hand, waiting for her mom or dad to come out. But there were no footsteps coming from her parents’ room. [Y/N] sighed silently and walked out the door, closing it carefully behind her. She set off towards the woods, determined to find out what had happened.

~~~~

Steve was sitting on a rock in the cave he and Eddie stayed in, his head in his hands. He sighed and looked up at his lover, who was chewing on his nails in nervousness.

“So, you’re telling me that, when you went for a walk, you not only went in your dragon form, but you Bonded with a human woman?” Steve asked. Eddie nodded slowly. Steve sighed. “You do realize how much danger this not only puts us in, but also puts her in? You know we have enemies. Prince Jason and his “friends” are still looking for us. If they realize that you bonded with one of the villagers of White Bridge, he might use her as leverage to get to us.” Steve said. Eddie sighed and nodded.

“Yes, I know Steve. I’ve thought about nothing but how much danger she will be in! You know that the Bonds aren’t within out control. We can’t choose who we bond with. Mike Bonded with Jane, when we all thought he was going to Bond with Will. Dustin Bonded with Suzie. Max Bonded with Lucas. There is some magic crystal that can tell us who we bond with,” Eddie said. “Hell, I thought I was going to Bond with Chrissy, but I Bonded with you.” Eddie said. Steve looked up at his lover. He sighed.

“I know that Bonds aren’t something we can control. But, what we can control is where we are when we Bond. You and I Bonded in our Dragon forms. If you had been in your Human form, then maybe, we wouldn’t be in this much trouble.” Steve said. Suddenly, Eddie went silent. Steve looked up at him. Eddie was staring intently out the mouth of the cave. Steve sighed. “I know I might be coming off as angry, but I’m just worried about you. We’ve had several close calls with Jason before. I don’t want this Bond to be another one.” Steve said. Eddie didn’t respond. Steve frowned. “Eddie?” He asked. He stood up and walked over to his mate.

“She’s here,” Eddie whispered, just barley loud enough for Steve to hear. Steve frowned.

“The woman? At this hour? In the woods?” Steve asked. Eddie nodded. Without saying another word, Eddie took off running, trying to get to the woman he had Bonded with.

“Wait! Eddie!” Steve raced after his Mate.

~~~~

[Y/N] kept her cloak around her form, trying to keep the cold night air off of her exposed skin. She flinched at every noise she heard. No one had ever been crazy enough to go into the woods that surrounded White Bridge, she might as well be the first. She could feel the string of her Bond guiding her to where the Dragon was. The Bond was more like a dull ache in her chest. She needed to be near the Dragon. Only then, would she stop hurting. She flinched when she heard the howling of wolves. Her eyes widened. They were getting closer. [Y/N] took off into a run. She wanted to turn back to the safety of White Bridge, but her Bond kept her going further into the woods, looking for the safety of the Dragon. She heard the growling getting louder and closer. Suddenly, she was surrounded. [Y/N]’s breathing quickened. She turned every which way, but there was no where to go. She bravely took out her dagger, holding it out. Now, she wished she had taken Angus with her, though she doubted her would be able to fend off wolves. [Y/N] swung her dagger around when a wolf got too close, making it snarl and jump back. Suddenly, one of the wolves jumped up when she wasn’t looking, and clamped down on her leg, making her cry out in pain. She used her dagger to hit the wolf on the head, making it whimper and let go. Another wolf replaced the first one and got a bite out of her right ankle. She was loosing blood. One of the wolves managed to knock the lantern out of her hand, putting out the light. She felt one get ahold of her arm, making pain run up her arm. She begged for help in her mind. Suddenly, there was a roar, like a dragon. The wolves backed off as the hulking form of a Hungarian Horntail came bursting through the trees. [Y/N]’s legs gave out and she fell to the floor, slowly loosing blood due to the bite marks. She felt another fire in her stomach. The sign that a Bond had been made. She made eye contact with a man, who was standing behind the dragon. He looked gorgeous. His brown hair flopped to one side. He was wearing a black, long sleeve shirt and pants. As soon as he stopped staring, he ran over to [Y/N] and held her in his arms. She suddenly felt safe. Protected. Loved. The man looked at the dragon.

“Eddie! That’s enough!” He shouted. His voice sounded like an echo. Her vision became bleary. The dragon, who had finished scaring off the wolves, slowly walked up to the two. The dragon leaned its head down and nudged one of [Y/N]’s limp arms.

~~~~

Steve was racing behind Eddie. ‘This idiots going to get himself killed one day, I swear.’ Steve thought, racing after his mate, who had transformed into his dragon form. “Eddie, you seriously need to stop!” Steve shouted. But his words went ignored. He knew that when someone was in this state, when the person they had Bonded with was in danger or hurt, there was no stopping them. They soon heard a scream and the howling and barking of wolves. Eddie then burst out of the woods, letting out a roar and racing towards the wolves. The wolves whimpered and barked, running away from the creature they knew they wouldn’t be able to face off against. Steve stopped, trying to catch his breath. He then looked up and gasped. It seemed like time itself had frozen. There was no woods. No Eddie. No wolves. Just him and the woman before him. He had this feeling before, when he fist met Eddie. Time had stopped. It was just him and Eddie. Steve broke out of his trance when the woman fell to her knees. “Shit!” Steve shouted. He raced forward and caught the woman in his arms, holding her tight. He could see her eyes closing, loosing consciousness. Steve looked at Eddie. “Eddie! That’s enough!” He shouted. Eddie looked back at Steve, having chased away the wolves. Eddie transformed into his human form and raced over. He hated seeing her hurt. Whatever pain she felt, he felt. When Eddie looked at Steve, he could tell that he had bonded with her. He saw the same pain in his mate’s eyes.

“We need to get her help.” Eddie said urgently, gently brushing away some hair that fell into her face. Steve nodded.

“Let’s take her back home. It will be faster and we can explain everything to her when she wakes up.” Steve said. He gently scooped her up, supporting her back and her legs. Her head rested against his shoulder. The two Dragons rushed off towards their cave to treat their third Mate’s wounds. They would have a lot of explaining to do when she woke up.

~~~~ //Here is part 2. Let me know if you would like me to make a part 3 to this.//

#steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #dragon AU

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