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wholoveseggs · 5 months

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Crimson Frost {Part Three}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part Three

Things heat up between you and Elijah as you prepare to rescue Gerda and Henrik. In the pursuit of your sister things get bloody and an unexpected warrior comes to your aid.

♡♡ I'm sorry that this one is taking so long, there will be a part four! {and possibly five}

6k words - Warnings: Viking AU where the Mikaelsons are completely human (no magic, werewolves, vampires... etc) lots violence in this part. SMUT!, virgin!reader, hot springs, norse runes... sword fights.

{Part One} {Part Two} {Part Four} {Part Five}

It was a four day journey to the coast, a market was there that sold all kinds of things, including people. Elijah believed that was where the Blackthornes were taking Henrik and Gerda.

The snow was still high, but it had thawed enough for you to travel on horseback, the wind whipping at your face. You leaned into Elijah, his body warm and solid against yours, the scent of him filling your senses.

You were glad he was there with you, his strength and determination a comfort, especially after losing your home and family. You had fallen for him, the attraction between you growing with every day. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn't deny what you felt, the need for him, the desire.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his voice low and husky, his breath warm against your cheek.

"Aye," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart fluttering at his closeness.

"We will find them, sweet Gerda and Henrik," he promised, his arms were around your waist, holding the reins, guiding the horse, "we will not let the Blackthornes keep them,"

You nodded, swallowing hard, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. The thought of them being sold into slavery, or worse, made your stomach twist.

You stopped to camp for the night, the sun dipping below the horizon, the stars twinkling in the sky. The wind howled around you, the cold biting at your exposed skin.

Elijah started a fire, the flames casting a warm glow around you, the warmth chasing away the chill. The two of you had grown very comfortable around each other, falling into a routine, each taking on the various tasks of setting up camp, cooking food, and caring for the horse.

You took a walk to go fetch some water from the nearby river, the moonlight illuminating your path. You came across a small hot spring, the steam rising into the air, the heat and humidity inviting.

You were tired and sore from the long day of riding and the idea of relaxing in the hot water was too tempting.

You took off your clothes and slowly stepped into the water, the heat enveloping you, the water soothing your muscles. You let out a long sigh of relief, closing your eyes and enjoying the warmth.

You heard the sound of twigs snapping behind you and turned, your eyes flying open.

"Elijah," you gasped, your face flushing, dipping lower into the water to hide your naked body.

"I was worried when you didn't return, I see why," he smiled, his eyes roaming over you, his gaze making your heart race.

"I haven't felt this good in weeks," you sighed, "the heat, it's relaxing,"

Elijah began to pull off his clothes, his gaze locked on yours, his body rippling with muscle.

You felt a wave of desire rush through you, your pulse quickening, a flush spreading across your cheeks. You turned away, giving him privacy, the thought of him naked making your stomach flip.

You heard him enter the water, the sounds of him splashing, his breathing shallow. You risked a glance back, his broad back was to you, the water coming up to his waist.

"Gods," he muttered, "this is wonderful,"

You let out a breathy laugh, "Aye, it is,"

The two of you faced away from each other, the silence heavy with tension, the heat of the water seeping into your skin.

"What will you do? After we rescue Gerda and Henrik," you asked, gently moving your hands through the water, creating small waves.

"I do not know," Elijah replied, his voice low and soft, "perhaps find my own land, start a family,"

"That sounds nice," you murmured, a hint of sadness in your voice. You wouldn't be going with him, your place was with Niklaus. Elijah would be a part of your past, a fond memory. You couldn't imagine not being near him, not being with him, the thought made your chest ache. "I wish you could stay with us," you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

"As do I," Elijah said, his voice thick with emotion, "but we both have our duties,"

"Aye," you said, biting your lip, tears welling in your eyes.

You glanced over at him, his back was still to you, you noticed a particularly large scar stretched across his back, the pink skin raised and uneven.

You moved closer to him, the water making soft ripples as you did, your hand reaching out to trace the scar, "what happened here?" You whispered, your fingers ghosting over the sensitive skin.

He twitched under your touch, his muscles flexing, his breathing labored. "My father, he beat me, whipped me," he said, his voice a whisper, the pain evident. "For trying to protect Niklaus,"

"I heard such rumors about your father, that he was cruel," you whispered, your heart breaking for them, and the pain they endured.

"Aye, he was," Elijah sighed, "he was not a good man, but he was still my father, and I loved him,"

You pulled your hand away, his words echoing in your mind, your chest aching for him. He turned to face you, his gaze meeting yours, his expression soft, his eyes searching.

You swallowed hard, the air heavy between you, the tension crackling. He was so close to you, his naked body inches from yours. Your breasts rose and fell with each breath, your nipples hardening at the thought of him touching you, his hands exploring your body.

He reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers trailing down your cheek. You wanted to pull him closer, to feel his lips against yours, to give in to the desire burning within you.

"Elijah," you whispered, your heart racing, a flush creeping across your skin.

"Aye," he breathed, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

"I..." You swallowed hard, your body aching for him, "I should not have..."

"Do you love him? My brother?" Elijah whispered, his eyes burning into yours.

You hesitated, the truth of it all hitting you. You did not love Niklaus, not in the way you should, not the way a bride should love her groom. Your heart belonged to Elijah, even though it was wrong, even though the gods would not approve.

"I..." You started, your voice trembling, your emotions threatening to overwhelm you, "I do not,"

He kissed you, his lips soft and warm, the passion and heat between you consuming you. You lost yourself in the feeling of his body, the taste of his lips, the touch of his hands. The two of you gave in to the desire, the lust, the need for each other.

He guided you backwards towards the rocks, your back pressing against the smooth stone, the cold sending a shiver through you.

"We should not be doing this," you moaned, the feeling of his teeth gently nipping at your skin sending waves of pleasure through you, "the gods, they will punish us,"

"Then let them punish," he murmured, his voice like a caress, "if it means I can spend one more moment with you, I will gladly accept their wrath,"

He lifted you, the water lapping around your thighs, his hands gripping your ass. The heat from his body contrasting with the cold air, the feeling of his manhood pressed against you made you feel glorious.

"I've never been with a man," you whispered, trying to conceal the nervousness in your voice, your body trembling with need, the excitement and desire almost overwhelming. "Have you been with a woman? Did you...?"

"Once," he whispered, his voice husky, "but it was not love, not what I feel for you,"

Your heart raced, the feel of his strong body, the strength of him, made you feel alive in a way you had never known.

He kissed you, his lips brushing against yours, soft and gentle. You leaned into him, your fingers tangling in his dark hair. His touch was so tender, so loving, as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

His eyes met yours, his fingers dipped below the waterline, and pushed slowly between your legs, causing you to gasp and jerk back, the sensation new, overwhelming.

He smiled, the lines around his eyes crinkling, the look of desire that filled them making your stomach flutter.

"Do you feel that?" He whispered, his fingers teasing the place between your legs, his touch eliciting a reaction you'd never imagined possible.

"That is a taste of Óðr, the god of divine madness," he smiled and when he began moving the small nub between your legs with a calloused thumb, you moaned aloud.

He lowered his head to yours, his lips capturing yours, his tongue teasing, tasting. You surrendered to him, to the feelings coursing through you, the passion and desire burning inside you. You'd never felt like this before, the sensation of his touch, his kiss, was almost too much, your breath coming in small gasps, you were on the verge of something, something you'd never felt before.

The combination of the heat of the water, the warmth of his breath on your cheek, and the insistence of his fingers were doing something to your body. Your muscles began contracting, pushing towards something new, something blissful.

Then you felt it, ᛞᛁᚡᛁᚾᛖ ᛗᚨᛞᚾᛖᛋᛋ (divine madness) a feeling of rapture, an explosion, a storm. Your body alight with pleasure and a yearning for more of whatever he would give you.

He pressed his lips to yours, like he could taste your pleasure, and you knew you had been given a precious gift. Your hands clutched at his chest, your eyes locked on his, your heart fluttering, no longer caring that the gods might see you and punish you both. You parted your lips and with a soft moan he slid his tongue into your mouth and kissed you like he was drowning and you were air, his grip tight on your body.

You wanted more, the madness taking hold of you, your hand slipping beneath the water to caress his manhood, a thrill washing through you as he twitched and groaned.

You knew enough about what men and women did to know he could place himself between your legs, thrust forward and be inside you. You had heard some of the wives claim it hurt, while others hinted at immense pleasure. But you didn't care. In that moment, your mind was a fog of desire, your body singing for him.

He pressed himself against you, searching your eyes for permission, his gaze heavy with want. You locked eyes with him, giving him a small nod and he eased himself into you. There was no pain, only a dull stretch of pleasure and fullness. His arms wrapped tightly around you, his hips moving slowly, thrusting into you. You dug your fingers into his hair, moaning as he filled you, your bodies coming together in a dance of passion and lust.

"ástin mín (my love)" he whispered, his voice thick with desire, his breath hot on your cheek. You clung to him, lost in the moment, his body moving in sync with yours, the feeling of him buried deep inside you was more than you could have imagined.

The water churned around you, your bodies moving together, your breath coming in shallow gasps. The pleasure was building, a coil of ecstasy twisting tighter inside you. His hands gripped your waist, his gaze locked on yours, the need and desire between you binding you together, the need for release overwhelming.

And then it hit, waves of pleasure crashing through you, his body shuddering as he found his release, the two of you clinging to each other, the world around you fading away.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice low and hoarse, his eyes shining with emotion, his hand cupping your cheek. "And I do not care what the gods have in store for us,"

"Elijah," you breathed, a warmth filling you, your heart fluttering, "I love you too,"

He pressed his forehead to yours, his hand cupping your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. You closed your eyes, savoring the moment, the feeling of his body pressed against yours, the scent of him, the sound of his voice.

"í þessu lífi og því næsta (in this life and the next)" he whispered, his gaze locking on yours, the look of adoration in his eyes making your heart race.

You smiled up at him, lost in the love you shared, "í þessu lífi og því næsta,"

Fear gripped your heart as you felt the weight of a raider on top of you. His face contorted into a terrifying grimace as he looked down at you. The stench of his foul breath washed over you, making you feel sick. He lifted his arm, intending to bring his axe down on you.

You screamed and woke up in your tent, Elijah watching you with concern. He reached out and took your hand, rubbing circles onto your palm in an attempt to soothe you.

"Come here, sweetheart," he whispered.

You moved closer into his waiting arms, settling in between his legs, resting your back against his chest, letting your head rest against his shoulder.

"You are trembling," he said, nuzzling your hair with his nose and continuing to rub small circles into your palms. "Another bad dream?"

"Aye," you muttered.

"Tell me what you saw."

"The raid, it haunts me," you said, swallowing hard, "the screams, the blood, the bodies,"

He hummed softly, kissing along your shoulder, "It haunts me as well,"

You closed your eyes, letting his gentle kisses wash over you, chasing away the darkness. His warmth and strength were a comfort, making you feel safe in his arms. You let out a sigh, sinking into him, the feel of his skin against yours a reminder that he was there, protecting you, loving you.

"You need to rest, tomorrow will be a long day," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear, his hand gently stroking your arm, his words soft and soothing.

You nodded, the memory of your dream still fresh in your mind, the images leaving an ache in your chest.

His hands began to roam, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through you. You moaned softly as his fingers grazed your skin, leaving trails of heat in their wake.

Since your first time together in the hot spring, the two of you had not been able to get enough of each other. Every night you would succumb to the desire between you. With each touch, each kiss, your feelings for each other grew deeper, the bond between you strengthening.

He would use his mouth, his hands and his body to give you pleasure, to bring you to the edge of bliss, to teach you every sinful thing you could do. He taught you how to please him, and in return you learned that you held power over him. To watch his eyes darken with lust, his face a mask of pleasure as you rode him, it made you feel like a Valkyrie.

"I cannot sleep," you whispered, the memory of your nightmare fading, the ache inside you building, your skin tingling.

He chuckled, laying back, pulling you down with him, holding you close. Bringing the furs over you, cocooning you both.

"After we rescue Henrik and Gerda, I will make love to you in a bed," he whispered, kissing along your neck, "not the ground or in a spring,"

"Or against a tree... or the side of a hill..." you smirked, a hint of playfulness in your voice, "I can keep going," you teased, turning to face him, your hand caressing his cheek, his stubble scratching at your skin.

"Aye, or that," he laughed, his hand cupping your rear, his touch sending a jolt of desire through you.

"What will happen to us?" You whispered, your expression clouding, "what will we do?"

"We will find a home, a land where we can build a life together," he murmured, his thumb tracing along your bottom lip, "where we can be together," he paused, a flicker of doubt crossing his features, "that is if you want to come with me," he whispered, the hesitation and vulnerability evident in his voice. He searched your eyes, his gaze intense, his heart open and exposed.

"I want nothing more," you replied, your voice a whisper, the words tumbling out, your chest aching, "I could not imagine my life without you," you added, leaning into his touch, his skin warm against yours. "But... What of Niklaus?"

"He.... he will adjust," Elijah sighed, "it will not be easy, but he will understand," he said, his eyes searching yours, his expression a mixture of worry and affection. "I hope," he added, his brow furrowing.

He sat up and stretched, the sun just beginning to rise, beams of light filtering in through the opening of the tent. You watched him, the muscles in his back flexing, the curve of his rear, the broadness of his shoulders. You let your eyes wander over his body, committing every detail to memory.

"Since sleep is evading me, I shall go and hunt," he smiled, pulling his tunic over his head, his hair messy and wild, "there are still a few hours before we must leave, and I want to ensure we have plenty of food,"

You smiled up at him, nodding, "I will gather the supplies and get the horses ready," you said, sitting up and reaching for your clothes.

He leaned down and kissed you, the familiarity of his lips against yours sending a wave of heat through you. His hand cupped your cheek, his eyes filled with adoration and desire. He lingered, his thumb stroking your cheek, his eyes filled with longing and need. You pulled away, your heart racing, a flutter of excitement blooming in your stomach.

He turned and walked out of the tent, leaving you alone, your mind swimming with thoughts of him. You fastened your hair into a long braid, your thoughts consumed by the upcoming battle, the plan laid out, the odds stacked against you. A pang of fear gripped your heart, the weight of responsibility and duty on your shoulders, the fate of your sister in the balance. You shook your head, forcing the doubts away, steeling yourself for the task ahead.

Elijah returned with two rabbits, the scent of blood making your stomach twist, the thought of the coming battle, the risk of losing Elijah or Gerda making you nauseous. You usually didn't mind the sight of blood or the scent, but today it made you feel ill. You swallowed the feeling and quickly got to work, cooking the rabbits over a small fire, your mind whirling, your thoughts a storm.

"It will be a long day," Elijah said, handing you a flask of ale, "drink, it will give you strength,"

You thanked him, taking a sip, the taste of honey and berries filling your mouth. You handed the flask back to him, and he took a drink, his expression grim.

"The market will be busy, but we will be able to blend in with the crowd," he said, packing away the rest of the supplies, "there will be plenty of Blackthornes, so be wary,"

You nodded, taking a deep breath, he took your hand in his and squeezed.

"Do not lose hope," he said, his voice steady, "we will rescue Henrik and Gerda,"

You gave him a small smile, the confidence in his words easing some of your worry.

"If we get separated, meet me back here," he said, his expression serious, "and remember, keep a low profile, do not draw attention to yourself,"

You nodded and kissed him softly "I will,"

The smell of fish and salt hung in the air, the morning market in full swing. Merchants and traders lined the streets, their wares on display. Children ran and played, their laughter echoing through the bustling town.

The slave markets were separated from the main market, but the smell of death and blood still permeated the air. The screams and cries of those being sold haunted the town.

Elijah walked alongside you, his expression tense, his hand gripping his sword. You could feel the tension rolling off of him, his worry for Henrik and Gerda obvious.

As the two of you passed the slave pens, a woman caught your eye, she was sitting on the ground, her head in her hands. She reminded you of your mother, her hair the same color, her eyes the same shade.

You wanted to free her, to tell her she was going home, but Elijah grabbed your hand, pulling you along.

"You can't help them all," he said, his voice low, "we must find the young ones,"

You nodded, following him through the crowds, the noise and chaos making your head spin. Your heart pounded in your chest, your stomach churning, the anxiety and fear coursing through you.

The sight of the gallows was a stark reminder that this was a dangerous mission, that one wrong move could lead to death.

The crowd was thick, the heat and stench of the bodies pressed together unbearable. You could hear the auctioneer shouting, his words muffled, the air thick with anticipation.

Elijah pulled you to the side, the two of you standing at the edge of the crowd. You could see a few men wearing Blackthorne colours scattered about. It gave you hope that Henrik and Gerda might be nearby.

"This is our chance," Elijah said, his voice low, "keep your head down and follow my lead,"

You nodded, taking a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You followed him down to the water, to where they loaded the ships with cargo. The slaves were being kept there until the auction began.

That's when you saw her, your sister, chained and shackled. Her hair was matted and dirty, her clothes tattered and stained. She was thin, her face gaunt, her eyes haunted.

It took everything in you to not run to her and wrap her in your arms. You bit your lip, your fists clenched, the urge to free her nearly overwhelming.

You squeezed Elijah's arm, and he turned, his eyes widening when he saw her.

"Go, I'll distract them," he whispered, before stepping forward.

You watched as he approached the Blackthornes guarding the prisoners. His stance was relaxed, his voice smooth, his demeanor calm and confident.

You could tell the men were suspicious, their eyes narrowing, their hands gripping their weapons. But you couldn't worry about him right now, you had to focus on freeing your sister.

You approached the slave trader, a tall man with broad shoulders, his dark hair pulled back in a tight ponytail.

"How much for the girl?" You asked, nodding towards Gerda.

The man's eyes roamed over your body, his gaze lecherous, making you shudder.

"She's a pretty one," he said, his voice a low rumble, "but she's a feisty one, needs a firm hand,"

You swallowed hard, the thought of her being touched, abused by a monster like him, made you want to scream.

"So will that lower the price?" You asked, forcing a smile.

The man considered, his eyes raking over you again, "Aye, a fair trade,"

He held out his hand, and you took it, his grip tight, his skin rough. With the other hand you grabbed the dagger at your waist, and plunged it into his neck.

He collapsed, unable to make a sound, you looked around to see if anyone noticed, but the men were still distracted by Elijah. You grabbed the keys off the trader's belt and quickly unlocked the shackles around her ankles and wrists.

She blinked up at you, her eyes wide, her expression confused. The pain in her eyes broke your heart, you could only imagine what she had been through.

"Systir?" She said weakly, her voice hoarse.

"Aye, Gerda, it's me," you said, pulling her into a hug.

She clung to you, her arms wrapping around you tightly, her tears dampening your tunic.

You pulled away, helping her to her feet. Her legs were weak, her body trembling.

"You've got to be strong," you whispered, "do you know where Henrik is?"

"He was sold," she choked out, her face crumpling.

"We'll find him," you said, gripping her arm.

Just then you heard the sound of fighting. You turned to see Elijah and the men locked in combat. Blood was pouring from a wound on his arm, but he didn't seem fazed. You felt torn, wanting to help him, but needing to get Gerda out of harm's way. You knew what you had to do and what he would want.

"We need to get out of here," you said, pulling her away.

The sound of battle rang out, the clang of swords, the grunts and shouts of the men. You scooped Gerda up into your arms, and she wrapped her arms around your neck.

"Hold on, Gerda," you whispered.

She buried her face in your neck, her breathing ragged, her body shaking. You ran back to the market, slowing your pace, trying to blend in with the crowds.

You could hear the men shouting, the sounds of their pursuit growing louder. You weaved in and out of the crowds, trying to lose them. Your heart was pounding, your mind racing. Suddenly a hand grabbed your arm, spinning you around.

It was Niklaus.

You felt immense relief wash over you, seeing him there, safe.

"You're alive," he gasped, his voice hoarse, his eyes wild. "Do you know what happened to Elijah? to young Henrik?" He asked, his gaze darting around, looking for danger.

"Henrik is gone," Gerda sobbed, her face red and blotchy, "sold, not long ago," she choked out, her voice barely a whisper.

Niklaus' expression darkened, his jaw clenching, his eyes flashing with anger. "Are you hurt?"

You shook your head, "I'm fine, I'm taking Gerda somewhere safe, Elijah was fighting the men who held them captive,"

Niklaus cursed under his breath, he looked like a true warrior, his head shaved into a mohawk, the Mikaelson colors painted on his face. You could see his muscles rippling underneath his tunic, his chest and arms were covered in tattoos. The scars on his arms and face told the story of a fierce fighter, one who had survived many battles. It had only been a few months since you had seen him, but he had changed so much and so had you.

"Take her and leave," he growled, "go to the forest, hide there,"

"I won't leave without Elijah," you said, your tone firm.

He gave you an odd look, and you felt a wave of guilt wash over you. But now was not the time to dwell on it, now was the time to act.

"Stay safe," he said, before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

You pulled Gerda along, keeping to the shadows, trying to stay out of sight. The sound of battle echoed through the market, the cries of the wounded, the clash of steel. You came across the stables, her weight growing heavier with each step. You could feel her heart pounding against your chest, her breath coming in short gasps.

As you approached the stables, you could hear the sound of a man's voice, the familiarity of it making your hair stand on end. Einar.

"We need to hide," you whispered, setting her down.

She leaned against the wall, her chest heaving, her body trembling. You looked around the corner of the barn to see Henrik on the ground, Einar looming over him.

Your blood ran cold, rage burning inside you. You gripped your axe, the familiar weight of it calming you.

"Stay here, Gerda," you said, your voice low.

She shook her head and clinged to your arm, her nails digging into your skin.

"You can't take him," she whimpered, "he's too strong,"

"I have to try," you said, pulling her into a hug, you handed her a small dagger Elijah had given you, "take this, if anyone tries to hurt you, use it,"

She nodded, her eyes filled with fear.

You crept around the corner of the barn, the stench of urine and manure assaulting your nose.

"Not even worth the money I paid for you," Einar snarled, kicking Henrik in the stomach.

The boy groaned in pain, his eyes scrunched shut, his fists clenched.

"Get up, boy," Einar spat, grabbing Henrik by the shirt, dragging him to his feet.

You charged at him from behind, raising your axe and striking him in the back with all your strength.

Einar stumbled forward, dropping Henrik. The boy fell to the ground, clutching his stomach, his eyes wide with shock.

"You bitch," Einar growled, whirling around, his eyes filled with fury.

Cold fear shot through you, the sight of his scarred face, his cruel smile making you freeze. Your axe still in his back, you backed away, reaching for the dagger at your waist.

Suddenly, Henrik leaped onto Einar's back, his arms around his neck, trying to strangle him.

The sight spurred you into action, and you ran forward, stabbing the dagger into his shoulder, his scream of pain echoing through the stables.

Einar thrashed, trying to shake Henrik off, but the little warrior held on, his face grim with determination.

The three of you struggled, the fight raging, your breath coming in short gasps, the sound of steel clashing ringing in your ears.

Your body ached, the blows Einar landed, his punches, kicks and elbows leaving their mark. But you and Henrik managed to bring him to his knees.

He roared, flinging Henrik off his back, and the boy slammed into the wall, his body limp.

Einar's hand went to his waist, and you knew what was coming, he was going to grab his sword and cut you in half.

You scrambled backwards, the adrenaline coursing through you, the fear making you frantic.

You were cornered, no way out, no escape.

He raised his blade, his face twisted in a cruel smile. Gerda screamed and ran forward, putting herself between you and Einar. You cried out, trying to stop her, but she ignored you. Her face was a mask of fury and determination, her body trembling, but she didn't hesitate, didn't flinch. She stared up at him, her fists clenched, her eyes blazing with fury.

"Don't touch my systir!" she shouted, her voice strong and clear.

Einar laughed, "Two children and a woman? This will be fun,"

He raised his sword, the blade glinting in the sunlight. This was it, the moment of death. You closed your eyes, waiting for the pain, wondering if you would be worthy of Valhalla, if one day Elijah would find you there.

But the blow never came.

You opened your eyes, blinking against the harsh light. But then his expression turned to shock, a pitch fork jutting out from his chest. He fell to the ground, the weapon buried deep, a gurgling sound coming from his throat. You knelt beside him, his blood seeping into your clothes. You watched the light fade from his eyes, the life leaving him.

Behind him stood a dazed Henrik, his blade bloodied, his eyes wild with rage. He grabbed Einar's sword and threw it to you, and you caught it.

You stood up, feeling dizzy, your body aching. You could taste the coppery tang of blood in your mouth, your wounds finally catching up to you.

"Henrik!" Gerda cried, throwing her arms around him, sobbing into his neck.

He wrapped his arms around her, his expression a mixture of relief and pain.

"I'm alright, Gerda," he whispered, his voice shaking. "It's over,"

They both looked at you, their eyes shining with gratitude, they both looked like they'd seen hel, their bodies covered in cuts and bruises, their faces gaunt and pale. They had seen and experienced too much, too young. You reached out, and they both embraced you, their arms wrapping around you, their tears wetting your clothes.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, "I'm so sorry,"

"You came for us," Gerda said, her voice barely audible. "That's all that matters,"

You squeezed them both, feeling the warmth of their bodies, their hearts beating, their breathing, their life.

"Come," you said, forcing yourself to stand, "let's get you both home,"

Your horse was nearby, the stallion waiting patiently, seemingly unbothered by the commotion.

You got them both on the horse, handing Henrik the reins, he wrapped his arms around Gerda, and the two of them clung to each other, their eyes filled with hope.

"Go to the forest, wait for me there," you said, giving the horse a pat, "I need to find Elijah and Niklaus,"

"My brothers are here?" Henrik asked, his eyes widening.

You nodded, "they'll help us get home,"

The stallion took off, Henrik guiding him towards the forest, the two of them fading from sight.

You headed back to the market trying to gather your thoughts, the pain and exhaustion making it hard to think. You had to find Elijah, and Niklaus.

{Part One} {Part Two} {Part Four} {Part Five}

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dduane · 2 years

Note

With regards to etiquette regarding authors and fan-works: how does this work with authors who participate in fandom subsequently writing authorized spin-offs or...whatever you'd call "I don't own this IP but I have permission to publish a thing"? Obviously "don't send someone fic directly so they can choose whether or not to engage" is a good rule to follow, but if you — as an example — read a bunch of Sherlock fic and then get hired to write a Sherlock novel, is that then legally problematic?

Hmm.

Let's first sharpen up the terminology a bit, so we can all be sure what we're talking about. The owners of a given IP may not necessarily be the ones tasked with the actual business of inviting others into the property to create new material in that universe. So for convenience's sake let's just lump the actual owners and the ones managing the IP on their behalf together as "the Licensors". The person/s allowed by the licensor to execute this new art, or to hire people to do it, is/are the licensee/s. (...It's actually a little more complicated than that, but let's leave it there for the moment.)

Now, about your first question: let me head first for a situation where I've been in the past, so I can tell you what I did.

Let's say someone who's read Star Trek fanfic—not exactly vast amounts, but some, a decade or so previously—goes pro and then gets asked by the licensor, "Hey, wanna write a Star Trek novel?" When that happened to me, I let my editor know that I'd read some Trek fic in my time, but would do my best to avoid any storyline that was anything like any fic material I could remember. And for a long time I had an informal agreement with Pocket Books—noncontractual, but one I adhered to rigidly—that I would avoid reading any Trek fanfic while I was writing Trek professionally, and would only read Trek material provided to me by the publisher themselves. (This habit has persisted for a long while, as—these days in particular—there's no telling when the phone might ring...)

Back in the day, this approach worked well enough to be going on with. For one thing, Trek fanfic was then way thinner on the ground than it is now, and (being printed pretty much exclusively in paper fanzines) was far easier to avoid. It also worked because I had no desire whatsoever to take the chance of borrowing anybody else's material to begin with. Then as now, I'd have felt that would've been seriously wrong—and anyway, I had more than enough ideas of my own. ...And it worked for a third set of reasons, peculiar to Trek.

Early on, the attitude of (first Paramount, then Gulf&Western, then... who came next? Viacom? Anyway—) the corporate owners was essentially, "We own this IP; nobody should be writing fic in it without our permission; if anybody gives us grief about one of our books being like something of theirs they wrote illegally, we'll come after them with the lawyers." This attitude was markedly not Roddenberry's (at least early on...). He absolutely knew about fic, saw it at conventions, and largely seemed not to mind. This weird dichotomy of stances contributed to an atmosphere in which ficcing fans were inclined to walk softly, try to keep from being noticed by the corporate levels, and (if they engaged with Gene on the subject) keep it very low-key.

Now around the same time I was doing my first couple/few Trek works, the profic/fanfic interface started to get spikier. This was at least partly due to the problems that followed Marion Zimmer Bradley's engagement with a fan writer in her Darkover universe. At least partly as a result of this, various pros' attitudes toward people ficcing in their universes noticeably hardened—the emphasis shifting from concerns about personal preference to sharper ones centering on the writer's potential legal exposure. (Though the two kinds of issue did sometimes get tangled together.)

So that bubbled along for a good while in the background, coming more seriously to the boil when the Internet became a thing, and fic started to percolate through it in newsgroups and mailing lists and (finally) onto easily accessible web pages; and most recently, into platforms like AO3.

And this is where the question of ease of access becomes a significant part of the equation, and the picture shifts equally significantly.

I can't help but smile at the phrasing "If you—as an example—read a bunch of Sherlock fic and then get hired to write a Sherlock novel..." Because though there may be some Tumblerini sitting at the bottom of the crater Daedalus or in the depths of Valles Marineris* who don't know about this, well, I'm a Sherlock fan... and this query is pertinent.

Let's say that Messiah comes, the King returns, and the BBC commissions Sherlock S5. And secondary to that, let's say that the production staff call my agent and say, "We hear you've got this hot licensed-property writer who's done work for all these different licensors. How about you ask her if she wants to write a Sherlock novel for us?"

And now we're up against it... because there's more than one kind of tie-in novel.

One is the kind where you novelize a script. Of agreeing to that I'd have no fear, because the boundaries of such work are tightly circumscribed. The writer's job in such a situation is to render the dialogue and visuals as gracefully as possible into prose, and otherwise to avoid unnecessary flights of fancy that might jar against the writers'/producers' creative vision. ...So if that was what they wanted, I'd pretend to think about it for a couple of days, and then have the agent call them back and say "Yeah, sure, let's do it." (And then the shrieks of delight would begin. Sometimes it's useful to live this far out in the country.)

But if they wanted an original novel? A new Sherlock story?...

I would have to say no. Because my AO3 bookmarks are hip-deep in Sherlock fics, and there is no way, NO way, I could say with my hand on my heart that I was sure I wasn't going to wind up, however accidentally, borrowing or restating something I'd seen of someone else's. If I accepted that job, and then (a year, two years, five years later) someone appeared with evidence in their hands and said, "You used a situation / language that's clearly mine", I would be utterly shattered.

And would it be "legally problematic"? You bet it would. Forgive me for not spelling out all the ways it could be Bad. But even if the situation was finally resolved in the friendliest way possible for everybody concerned, the fact of what had gone wrong would hang like a shadow over every other piece of licensed work I might ever want to do. (And there probably wouldn't be a lot of those.)

So realistically speaking, the ethics of the situation would make that a challenge I wouldn't dare take. I would walk away and try my best to keep to myself the annoyance that would follow. It'd be sad, but it'd be necessary: because the lines I expect to be drawn to protect me, I must also make sure will equally protect others. It's only right.

Anyway, thanks for the question(s). Hope I've sufficiently covered the ground; and HTH.

*I almost typed that as "Valles Marinaris". Yeah, the Solar System's biggest known crevasse now suddenly full of spaghetti sauce? I almost did that. Always proof your copy three times...

#fanfic #profic #and their changing interface

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sonicasura · 27 days

Text

Nobody Like You

I figured everyone needs something sweet after the latest chapter of the manga. Thus here's a childhood sweethearts Kafhoshi AU but with a little twist. It does contain some elements from my Always A Kaiju idea. Let's get started. Part 2 can be found here! Alternate Route Beast Tamer can be found here!

Soshiro was quite the lonely child at a young age. Due to his family's status, people never really saw the real him. Only a member of a powerful family to respect or avoid. His own kin weren't that much help either.

Soshiro's parents always held high expectations and his brother's attempts at trying to bring him down led little room in trust. Thus the young boy often found solace outside amongst nature. Particularly a hidden little clearing which bear a sole cherry blossom in the forest that stood around his home.

One day, Soshiro would come across quite the surprise waiting for him at his special place. A hole stood before the trunk of the tree. From sheer curiosity, the young Hoshina looked into the apparent burrow. His confused violet eyes immediately met a glowing pair of slitted greenish teal ones. On that day Soshiro encountered someone that would be his first friend but also future lover: a peculiar Kaiju whelp known as Kafka.

Although if the two screamed at each other in fright first then it's understandable. Not all romance starts with love at first sight. Sometimes it's a scream, a backwards fall, and maybe a punch out of fright. (On rarer occasions, it's all three.) Especially for childhood sweethearts like these two.

Upon realizing that Kafka didn't mean any harm, Soshiro began to visit the strange Kaiju. At first he would just talk to him about various things like how his day has been and such. Sometimes Soshiro brings over a snack for the Kaiju to try.

Although Kafka had a tendency to not be in the same spot. Sometimes he would pop up in other places like a bush at the public park. Or outside his bedroom door much to Soshiro's horror. There were some days where Kafka didn't show up at all. He often marked those by the small pretty stones the Kaiju left behind at his window.

Soon things begin to change between the two over time. The first sign was Kafka's attempts to say Soshiro's name. Despite the surprise, the young Hoshina helped teach his friend how to not only speak but even read and write. It did help answer some of the questions Soshiro had for him.

The days Kafka didn't appear? Apparently he was visiting his foster mother, a kind lady by the name of Sakuya Hibino. She rarely gets visitors so Kafka often visited her when no one was around.

The second sign happened on one of the days where the Kaiju asked Soshiro to come over instead. As time went by, Kafka got bigger and the young Hoshina had to exploit some opportunities that came with age like more freedom to see him. Something good to keep when his friend gets bigger than a bus.

Now imagine his confusion seeing an older human boy at their favorite spot. Something that only doubled when the stranger sneezed and 'poofs' into the Kaiju. Kafka had taught himself to become human. It wasn't always perfect since a good enough distraction would poof him back into his Kaiju self.

Yet the ability to introduce Kafka to his world made things worth the risk for both of them. The third sign came when Soshiro attended university. It was required if he wishes to join the Defense Force despite it cutting the little time he could spend with Kafka.

This is also the age where the time he spent alongside his Kaiju friend looked different. Despite being bigger than a building, Kafka was quite crafty when it came to keeping himself human sized. It kept the various activities they could do together not become limited whether by a Kaiju alert or size issues.

Though Kafka's interests had taken strange routes. Places he wanted to try eating at were looking a bit fancy. Sometimes Kafka would beg Soshiro for them to go check out a festival or any rare events happening in town. The latest one involved dancing of all things.

It eventually hits Soshiro once he hears people talking about the upcoming school dance and dates. Kafka had been trying to court him like humans do. Soshiro felt pretty stupid that he didn't realize it sooner but he'd be a liar if he said the feeling wasn't mutual.

That school dance became the day both began to start dating. Kafka would propose on the night after Soshiro took the Entrance Exams. And the two happily married a year before Hoshina was promoted to Vice Captain of the Third Division.

Both lovers kept Kafka's Kaiju nature a secret even when Soshiro reached such a high status. If someone would accidentally spot his lover, then the Hoshina always intercepted so he could flee. Kafka helps by using a decoy like a kaiju they have missed or using a dummy of sorts made from his old shedded skin. There was always a romantic and often spicy apology date the next night afterwards.

A status quo the Hoshina-Hibino couple enjoyed keeping as Soshiro rather wait before he has to defend his lover. He will raise a heavy blade for Kafka against the Defense Force should the truth come out. Sadly their luck would begin to run out.

It all started when Kafka's newest coworker discovered his secret. And it only goes downhill from there as a new breed of kaiju threatens to turn everything upside down. Though the couple will stand by each other's side when their peace begins to crumple.

Nobody was gonna tear Soshiro and Kafka apart so easily.

That's all I have for now. Please enjoy this little song that came to mind writing this.

youtube

@oxandthorn @yehehbd @nightfal1n @terra-sketches @iceclew @neo0w0 @discoknack @drmarune @renard-dartigue @giantgoblin @somnidraws @elephantthbig

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xomakara · 7 months

Text

Crash Landing

SUMMARY | You meet Jungwoo in a space station and you both instantly hit it off. PAIRING | Jungwoo/Reader GENRE | space theme au, smut with little (?) plot, unprotected sex (wrap it up everyone!), oral sex (both male/female receiving/giving), general perversion RATING | Mature LENGTH | 6,466 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | Debating on making a part 2 or like a space theme series or something. Like I don’t think I’ve delved deep enough into the space lore haha. Was it weird to have that space/alien fight in the middle of the chapter? No idea. I’ve played to much Mass Effect lately so I was kind of, sort of, inspired to write this.

What do ya’ll think? A part 2 or like a series? Maybe a different pairing? IDK lol.

You open your eyes and stared at the white interior of the suite you inhabited. All white with no colors...how boring. You let out a sigh and swung your feet over the bed, not having slept for nearly two days straight. Even after a nap of a few hours, you were still very tired.

You walked towards the door of your room, the automatic door opening when you reached it. As you stepped out of your suite, you peered down the halls of the space station that you were residing in until your next mission could be scheduled. Nothing interesting ever happened on board this station; people came and went, making it their home base while they completed various missions all over the galaxy, but most didn't even spend more than a week here before they were off again. It was just an orbital station that housed different ships when they weren't traveling around.

However, when people came here, they usually came to be seen by many other space travelers and scientists as well as rich merchants who wanted to conduct business deals in private areas and who had lots of money to do so. For these reasons, it was quite crowded.

"Maybe I'll go stop by the bar and see if there's any exciting events happening." You thought aloud to yourself as you made your way through the corridors towards the main lobby.

You continued walking until you entered the main room where the bar stood. Although you hadn't been able to spot anything remotely interesting, you hoped that maybe you'd find something tonight. You walked up to the counter and ordered a drink, the bartender knowing exactly what you wanted since he had served you before and already knew your preferences. He soon handed you your drink, leaning against the counter as his co-worker manned the bar.

"Anything interesting happened? Do you know?" You asked the bartender, noticing his gaze shift from you to the wall behind him, likely looking for news. The bartender chuckled lightly and shook his head.

"Nothing really. We have a couple of freighter pilots from one of the smaller colonies arriving later today to sign paperwork, but other than that, nothing much is going on here."

You nodded in understanding, sitting down at a nearby table as you began sipping on your drink. A feeling of boredom consumed you once again as you sat there, your thoughts drifting away into a distant land. After a short time, the bartender placed another drink in front of you.

"Thanks." You said, smiling slightly at the bartender as you took another sip of your drink. You began wondering about something and looked around the room. Not seeing anyone that might help, you spoke out loud. "Hey..."

The bartender immediately turned his attention back to you and smiled. "Yeah?"

"I'm wondering...do you have any other information that might be useful? I came for adventure and just being stuck in Neo Station for too long is making me a little stir crazy."

"Hmm, what kind of adventures are you wanting to get into?" The bartender curiously asked.

"Oh, just some sort of excitement. Anything would do, really." You said cheerfully. "Do you happen to know of anyone that might have a job for me? I am an experienced fighter and strategist. I can pretty much take on any mission if it comes to it."

"Not that I know. But maybe one of the merchants might know." The bartender said. "Oh, Neo Security might have some jobs if you're inclined to get into those sorts of things. They don't pay much, though."

"I'm not so worried about the pay," you laughed as you made your way out of the bar. "It's all about the adventure and experience!"

You quickly made your way outside, stepping onto the walkway towards the large window of the station. Before you got to the window however, you stopped, gazing out into space for a moment, admiring how beautiful it truly was. All of the stars, planets, nebulas and countless other galaxies stretched far out beyond the reaches of human sight, each individual one unique in its own way. It was amazing to think that each star system contained life forms, from tiny single cell organisms to the huge, multi-planeted species like yourselves.

The possibilities seemed endless.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" A male voice said next to you.

You looked up to see a very handsome male looking out the large window with you. You blushed softly as you gazed upon him, instantly becoming more attracted to him than you were to most others, although you tried your best to hide it. You smiled at him and spoke. "Yes, it is beautiful. So vast. I feel like I've only scratched the surface of everything that's out there."

He smiled at you, nodding. "Indeed. Humans will never fully understand how large our universe actually is, and I don't believe we'll ever reach it. But I guess that's why we should appreciate it as much as we can now."

You both stared out into space, listening to the noises coming from the station filled with human and alien species alike. After a minute or two, you turned back to face him. "I'm Y/N, by the way."

"Jungwoo. Nice to meet you, Y/N." Jungwoo said, extending his hand towards you.

You smiled at him and took his hand in yours. "Likewise, Jungwoo."

"So, what are you doing out here alone, Y/N?" Jungwoo questioned.

You shrugged and sighed, not meeting Jungwoo's eyes. "I'm bored and haven't done anything interesting lately."

"Really? What kinds of things do you normally do?" Jungwoo inquired.

"Well, normally I would go exploring a new planet and look for animals and plant life that humans have yet to discover. All the while, making sure humanity is safe and keeping the peace. Unfortunately, since my ship is in maintenance right now, there aren't many places to go." You replied sadly. "And I have no idea where my crew went."

Jungwoo nodded in understanding, a smile on his face. "I understand completely. My crew always has trouble finding places to explore whenever we visit a new planet, either because we're restricted or we just simply run out of places to look."

"That's why I love exploration. You just never know what you're going to find, do you?" You grinned widely.

Jungwoo grinned back at you and shook his head. "No, you don't. That's what makes it fun!"

After exchanging pleasantries, you and Jungwoo spent the rest of the night talking about your hobbies and interests, trying to make conversation and pass the time until your ship was repaired. At the end of the evening, Jungwoo gave you his number in case you needed a companion or company on future excursions.

"Thank you for talking with me tonight, Jungwoo. It really helped pass the time." You said happily, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He grabbed your wrist gently, stopping you from leaving. "Let me ask you something first." He stated firmly.

You frowned and furrowed your eyebrows. "Okay. What is it?"

Jungwoo ran his thumb along the inside of your wrist. "Are you just as attracted to me as I am to you? Because if you are, then maybe this night doesn't have to end right here."

Your heart skipped a beat and your breath caught in your throat. Your mind began racing with a million different possibilities, many of them leading to unspeakable sexual encounters between the two of you. You felt the heat rise in your cheeks and Jungwoo noticed.

"Y/N?" He inquired, giving you a warm smile.

You nodded slowly, unable to speak. Jungwoo leaned closer, closing the gap between your lips. With a soft moan escaping your mouth, your lips parted slightly and Jungwoo slid his tongue across your lips, gently stroking it before you slowly opened your mouth. His tongue darted into your mouth, exploring every inch, as you kissed him back eagerly.

Jungwoo pulled away, grinning widely. "So? Are you just as attracted to me as I am to you?"

You looked at him, a coy grin forming on your face. "I think you know the answer to that question, Jungwoo."

"Good." He whispered softly. "Because you are extremely attractive."

A blush appeared on your face, making you become flushed as Jungwoo slowly backed away, running his fingers through his hair as he looked at you with lustful eyes. No one else was around but you grabbed his hand and led him towards your suite.

"Where are we going?" Jungwoo whispered as he followed you closely, still clutching your hand tightly.

"You'll see in a minute." You replied as you led him towards your suite.

When you got inside, you pushed Jungwoo against the nearest wall, kissing him passionately as you unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off of him. Once you got it removed, you glanced at his chest and gasped softly.

"What is it?" He breathed softly, looking down at you.

You gazed up at him and whispered, "I love your body."

Jungwoo smirked and bit down gently on your bottom lip. "Has it been awhile since you had someone?"

"A long ass while," You moaned as his fingers trailed down your sides. "My squadmates not included. They never satisfied me sexually, which is a big part of what drives me to seek companionship elsewhere."

Jungwoo chuckled as he bent down to kiss you. "If you want, I could make sure you were completely satisfied. In fact, I guarantee it."

You smiled seductively at him, sliding your hands up his arms. "Can you?"

"You bet I can. Just give me permission." Jungwoo gazed down at you.

You smiled, leaning forward and pressing your lips against his, softly kissing him back. You pulled back after a few moments and nibbled on his lower lip. Jungwoo growled softly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer. You melted into him as he wrapped his arms around you tightly, guiding you backwards until your knees hit the bed.

You looked into his dark brown eyes and moved your lips over his. His kisses were gentle at first, but as they grew deeper, his kisses became passionate and urgent, wanting to devour your entire body. You responded, running your hands up and down his chest as he explored your body with his. You moaned softly as his hands slid underneath your shirt and caressed your bare skin. You looked into his eyes as he continued touching you, watching the passion growing within them. As his touches became bolder, your breathing became heavier. When he finally pulled your shirt off, you groaned loudly, your hands going to the buttons of his pants.

Once you had them undone, you reached inside and found his hardened member. He moaned in pleasure as you stroked him slowly, gently squeezing and moving his shaft around. Jungwoo closed his eyes, enjoying the sensations you were giving him. When he opened his eyes again, he saw that you were staring into his eyes intently. You lowered your head, pressing your lips against his erect penis, licking the tip of it gently. He moaned deeply as you did this. He grabbed your head and brought you closer, encouraging you to continue.

As you licked and sucked on him more aggressively, he let out a small whimper, tugging on your hair roughly. You moaned, continuing to work his penis with your hand, sucking harder on him. His moans grew louder and more intense as he pressed himself even harder into your mouth. Finally, when he couldn't take anymore, he pulled away, painting your face with his cum.

You licked his cum off of your lips, grinning as you watched his facial expressions. "Did I satisfy you?" You asked slyly.

"Oh god yes," He gasped, moving down your body to help discard the rest of your clothes. "And now it's your turn to be satisfied..."

"How was your rest, captain?" Haechan, your engineer, asked as he checked the equipment around you.

"Fine, thanks." You replied. "I finally managed to sleep after those two grueling days of not sleeping at all. How about you?"

Haechan shrugged. "I slept alright, I suppose. I was still tossing and turning a bit, but I managed to fall asleep eventually."

"At least you managed to sleep!" Renjun, your pilot and navigator, called from the cockpit. "Me, I was just laying there staring at the ceiling and trying to count sheep. Tried to stay awake all day yesterday, but I failed miserably. There's nothing worse than being extremely exhausted and then not being able to sleep at all!"

"Tell me about it." Winwin, your medic, added as he tried to stifle a yawn. "As soon as I try to sleep, my mind starts racing with ideas and worries and I can't get rid of them. I've been waking up every hour or so and laying awake for awhile, only to finally drift off to sleep again after a few hours."

Everyone paused in their work for a brief moment to discuss how they all slept. It was nice to hear that everyone else was struggling with similar issues. At least you weren't alone. You let out a small chuckle, watching as Haechan and Renjun bickered quietly.

"Where's the rest of the team?" You inquired, looking around. Everyone else seemed busy with their duties and you couldn't see anyone else.

"They went to collect some cargo." Winwin replied, reading off a holographic screen that displayed the list of supplies that they needed to gather. "I think Mark and Jaehyun went to get some weapons and armor while Doyoung and Taeyong went to collect medical supplies. Johnny went to stock up on food."

"And Jaemin? Where is he?" You asked.

Haechan chuckled, shaking his head. "Weird kid doesn't seem interested in helping us gather supplies. Seems like he wants to go take care of something else first. Maybe he found a cute little animal he wants to bring back."

Everyone chuckled at this.

"If that's the case, then I hope it isn't a rat or something." Renjun said, pointing his finger at Haechan. "I'm tired of him always bringing back rodents and bugs as pets."

You let out a sigh. "Hey, as long as he doesn't shoot me and his squadmates in the back, I don't care. Let the weird kids do whatever they want, as long as they're helpful. Don't worry, we won't hold it against them."

Everyone slowly nodded their heads and resumed their tasks, which included cleaning and setting up various supplies in preparation for the upcoming expedition. You let out a sigh of relief as you worked alongside your crewmates. At least everything was getting done. As you finished organizing the rest of the supplies, you sent a message to everyone.

"Alright guys, we're almost ready. Everything seems to be set up and in order. Should be going out soon. Crew, keep an eye out for anything suspicious or unusual, okay? Squad, arm yourself with your weaponry and be prepared for battle."

You heard a series of responses throughout the ship, everyone agreeing to your instructions and telling you they were ready for the task ahead.

Finally, you heard your squadmate and science officer, Doyoung, reply. "We're ready, captain! Weapons are loaded and all equipment is operational. We're waiting on everyone else to finish gathering supplies before we leave."

With everyone on board, you gave the signal to launch the vessel, and it began floating upwards into space. Once it had cleared the station, you gave the command to accelerate and left the station behind.

You were mindlessly walking around your ship, performing maintenance and such when you heard someone call your name. Looking up, you saw Johnny, one of your squadmates and your second-in-command, standing at the door to the bridge, wearing a wide grin on his face. "So I heard that you met someone new yesterday. Any details?"

You chuckled at his teasing and shook your head. "Who's asking?"

"You met someone?" Mark, another squadmate and everythingman, asked as he joined Johnny in the doorway. "I thought you were staying in your suite all day?"

"I stopped by the bar last night and met this guy." You explained, walking into the bridge. "Why are you all suddenly curious about who I met? Scared that I might run off with him or something?"

"And leave this wonderful crew behind? No way." Taeyong, the cook and cultural advisor, chimed in. "Come on, tell us about this mysterious man. Did ya'll fuck?"

"Oh come on, none of you will even admit to being jealous that I may have met someone else?" You said, rolling your eyes.

Jaehyun, a squadmate and quartermaster, immediately shook his head and held up his hands in protest. "Not me! Honest! Of course I'd be happy for you if you met someone."

Renjun glared at Jaehyun. "Says the guy that always wants to fuck Y/N after a mission."

Haechan raised an eyebrow and smiled at Renjun. "And you know this because..."

"I have eyes and ears." Renjun scoffed. "Jaehyun's always sniffing around Y/N after missions, so naturally I've seen and heard quite a bit."

You rubbed your temples. You were the only female amongst a crew and squad of horny males. It was a wonder any of you could maintain a level head at all times. Fortunately, you hadn't encountered too many difficulties with your relationships. Sure, you've slept with some of your squadmates, but you've never gotten emotionally attached to anyone.

Not yet, anyway.

You looked around the bridge, watching your crew and squadmates interact with each other. They were all so friendly and caring, despite their varying backgrounds and personalities. You had originally been afraid of interacting with the rest of your crew, considering your coveted status as a Neo operative and the constant scrutiny that came along with it. However, it seemed like none of that mattered to the others. They welcomed you with open arms, accepting you for who you were. And you were glad for that. You didn't need any special treatment. Just to be treated as an equal, and you felt like they did just that. You wouldn't trade these people for anything.

"Hey," you said softly, causing everyone to turn and look at you. "You guys are the best crew and squad that I could ever ask for. I wouldn't trade you guys or run off with any other team for the world. We've been through a lot of shit together, and I couldn't imagine doing this without you."

A smile broke across all of their faces, their smiles growing wider as they watched you continue speaking.

"And even though we haven't known each other very long, you've become family to me. And I'm thankful that you're willing to put up with me and my bullshit."

"The amount of trouble you put us through," Jaemin, another squadmate and technician, laughed, holding his stomach. "But hey, we're used to it by now."

Johnny punched Jaemin in the shoulder playfully. "And you love every second of it."

Everyone continued laughing and joking with each other as you made your way over to the main console to start checking on all the systems on the ship. The others joined you as you inspected and ran tests on various components, making sure everything was working properly. While you were focused on monitoring the systems, a notification appeared on the holographic display next to you.

"Captain, one of our sensors detected something out of the ordinary coming from the surface of the planet below." Haechan called out. "It looks like the coordinates for a shuttle bay. Something strange is definitely going on."

You stood up and walked towards the viewport. All the other members of your crew gathered around you, curiously watching as you peered down onto the planet below.

"There's no doubt about it." You muttered. "Something's wrong down there."

You watched intently as you saw the faint outline of a spaceship hovering above the shuttle bay. You could barely make out what the thing was; it was far away and it was hard to distinguish. But you knew exactly what it was. You were intimately familiar with every spaceship design that existed within the Alliance.

This wasn't one of the Alliance ships. It wasn't even close. You had no idea where this thing had come from, but there was no doubt that it wasn't friendly. A shiver passed through your body, causing you to lean closer to the viewing window.

"Renjun, take us closer to the shuttle bay." You ordered. "Get us as close as possible without getting shot down."

"Copy that, captain." He responded.

"Doyoung and Taeyong, initiate the ships defense. Make sure we aren't caught off guard." You added.

"On it." Doyoung confirmed.

"Haechan, begin a scan on the area. Find out what we're dealing with."

"Got it." Haechan responded.

"Winwin, standby unless needed." You instructed your medic. You turned back to the rest of your crew. "The rest of you, loadout all weapons and equipment. Arm yourselves and get ready for battle. Squad, let's go find ourselves some answers."

Your orders were quickly carried out, and you and your team silently headed out of the room and down the hallway to the hangar deck. When you reached the bottom floor, you opened the large doors and stepped outside, followed by the rest of your squad. You and your squadmates took up defensive positions as you scanned the area with your visors.

It was then that you spotted several black dots moving around in the distance. They seemed to be approaching the shuttle bay and were probably heading inside.

"Scans indicate that there are four lifeforms nearby." Doyoung reported. "Two of them appear to be armed with standard rifles and pistols, the other two are carrying automatic assault rifles. No idea what they are."

You glanced over at your squad. Their expressions were grim. Not only were you uncertain about whether these beings would be friendly, but you weren't even entirely sure how dangerous they were.

"Alright everyone," you began. "Standby and be alert. We'll figure this out as fast as we can. In the meantime, just stay quiet and wait for my commands."

They all nodded their heads in understanding and stood perfectly still, waiting for further instruction.

As the black dots approached, you began taking careful steps backwards. They seemed harmless enough, but you were not taking any chances. One wrong move and it could lead to disaster. Fortunately, the other members of your squad stayed alert and were able to act accordingly. When the black dots were close enough, a series of bullets zipped past you, narrowly missing you. Without hesitation, the aliens fired back, riddling the surface of your ship with blaster bolts.

"Fuck!" Mark cursed loudly. "These things aren't fucking around!"

"Mark, Jaehyun! To the left! Johnny, Jaemin! To the right! Come on, move!" You yelled. Your squad instantly complied and moved swiftly, ducking and weaving between the different sets of walls, leaving the invaders exposed. A few more shots rang out, tearing apart pieces of the hull and a couple of windows. You were lucky that your shields absorbed most of the damage, otherwise it could have been catastrophic.

"Okay, let's move. Squad, split up and cover all sides. We don't want these guys sneaking up on us while we're spread out."

"On it, captain!" Both Jaemin and Jaehyun acknowledged. As the squad split up, you moved towards the closest wall and crouched down, allowing your bulk to shield you from any stray blaster bolts. After listening closely, you determined that the enemy was on the other side of the building, trying to figure out where you and your crew were hiding.

You grabbed a grenade launcher and waited for your comrades to return to their posts before setting off towards the closest wall. You slowly peeked over the top of the building, your eyes trained on the other side. Several of the black dots were crouching behind the outer walls, apparently looking for you. However, the rest of them were either huddled together or stood alone in small groups, watching the building, almost as if they expected you to come out of hiding.

Taking careful aim, you lobbed the grenade towards the building where the majority of the black dots were located. You threw it as hard as you could and prayed that it would do some damage. When the grenade exploded, all hell broke loose. Dozens of blasts rang out, and several of the black dots went flying into the air. Before you could even react, the others dropped their guns and tried to flee, but were intercepted by your teammates. You witnessed some fierce hand-to-hand combat, with everyone involved using every weapon at their disposal.

Several aliens got thrown around and pinned to the ground, but soon enough, you and your team managed to hold the line and stop the attack. When it was all over, you breathed a sigh of relief and gazed around, assessing the damage. You were surprised that your squad managed to defeat so many enemies so easily. You guessed that these aliens were only the tip of the iceberg, and that it would be impossible to hold off such a large number of foes without help.

After collecting your thoughts, you radioed Renjun and the rest of your squad. "Alright guys, the fight is over. Everyone get some rest and reload your weapons. Let's keep a low profile until the coast is clear."

All of your orders were immediately obeyed, and your entire crew headed back inside to get some much needed rest. You checked your gun again, ensuring that it was fully loaded and that your grenade launcher was still operational. Despite the fact that your squad held the enemy off easily, you were certain that it was only a matter of time before they regrouped and tried to attack again. At least this time they won't have the element of surprise.

Hopefully.

“Finally back in Neo Station!” Mark called out as he walked off the ship. “I’m gonna take a long ass nap in the barracks until the next mission.”

After hours of killing aliens and avoiding being killed by alien weaponry, your squad was finally back on Neo Station. You were eager to check on the status of your ship, and see if any of the damages made on the ship could be repaired. It seemed like a good idea to have an experienced mechanic inspect the ship once the adrenaline wore off. Luckily, Haechan and Jaemin were able to examine your ship and give you a report on what repairs might be necessary.

Renjun groaned, stretching his limbs. “Same. I’m gonna try to get some sleep.”

“You’ve been cranky man.” Haechan laughed as he joined the two. “Sleep will do us good.”

“I’m heading to med bay to stock up on supplies.” Winwin muttered and turned to Doyoung. “Care to join me? The science wards are near there.”

“Sure.” Doyoung replied and headed in the same direction as Winwin.

“I’m gonna go hang out in the mess hall.” Taeyong ran off, leaving you with Jaehyun and Johnny. Jaemin seemed to have run off somewhere else.

“Weird guy.” Johnny commented as he watched the younger guy’s fading back.

“Leave the weird kids alone,” you playfully smacked Johnny’s arm. You looked at both him and Jaehyun. “What have you guys got planned?”

“Actually, we were hoping you might want to join us.” Jaehyun said with a smile.

“Really?” you questioned.

“Yeah.” Jaehyun smiled. “Let’s go have some fun, captain.”

"Lead the way."

You followed Jaehyun and Johnny towards a club that was filled with men and exotic female dancers of humans and alien species. There was a long bar at the front of the club that was decorated with dozens of drink bottles, and was surrounded by several seating areas, including couches and chairs. Some men sat alone in one of the booths, drinking themselves silly.

“A gentleman’s club?” You gave Jaehyun a look. “Really?”

“Of course it is! This is Neo Station after all. What did you expect?” Jaehyun teased.

“Some people prefer more subtle entertainment.”

Jaehyun rolled his eyes. “Subtle entertainment? Like the night you met someone new?”

You rolled your eyes. “I meant drinking in a lounge or at the bar. Not a gentleman’s club.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Johnny asked. “This place is amazing!”

“If you say so.” You shrugged. “I should’ve gone with Taeyong to the mess hall…”

“Come on! I’ll buy you drinks all night!” Jaehyun insisted. “And girls! Lots and lots of girls!”

“You two can have the girls.” You looked around the club. “But I see some eye candy calling my name.”

Johnny looked in the same direction you were looking, a smirk on his face. “Ahhhh, so that’s your new friend? He’s handsome but not as handsome as me.”

Jaehyun raised an eyebrow before letting out a laugh. “We’re not going to see you in the next few days, are we?”

“Nope!” You nodded. “I’m gonna have fun tonight.”

Both Jaehyun and Johnny smirked at each other. “Have fun and use protection, captain.”

The two of them waved goodbye as you made your way through the crowd. When you finally found him, you noticed that he had already settled himself into a seat. The sight of you drew his attention, and he grinned widely when he saw you approach.

“Y/N,” Jungwoo greeted you as you sat beside him. He placed his hand on yours. “Weird place for you to show up at.”

You nodded over to your squad mates as they were watching a sexy alien woman dance seductively for the crowd. “My squadmates dragged me out here.”

“Not exactly your scene, is it?” Jungwoo asked as he slid a finger along the palm of your hand.

“As hot as the dancers are, they’re not my cup of tea.” You placed a hand on his knee. “You’re more my type.”

He smiled mischievously. “Had to come back for more, huh?”

You let out a laugh, slowly moving in closer to him. “It looks like it.”

He leaned in and gently kissed you. His lips were warm and inviting, which caused goosebumps to rise all over your body. You could feel yourself getting lost in the kiss, forgetting about everything else around you. He pulled away slightly and whispered in your ear. “Wanna get out of here?”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Oh god, yes.”

You led Jungwoo out of the club and into a nearby alleyway. It took several minutes to get there, and during that time, you continued kissing him fervently, enjoying every second of his embrace. When you reached the alleyway, you wrapped your arms around him tightly, causing him to chuckle.

“Don’t worry, no one’s coming.” He told you.

You paused for a moment. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” He replied with a grin.

Before you knew it, Jungwoo pushed you against the wall and pressed his lips against yours. You could taste his minty breath as he started to explore your mouth, slipping his tongue inside of your mouth to stroke against yours. You felt him push his hands under your shirt, running them up and down your bare stomach.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He moaned softly as he continued exploring your mouth. “You’re so beautiful.”

You couldn’t help but shiver at his words. Jungwoo was definitely a very handsome man, but hearing those words from him was making you weak in the knees. He stopped kissing you momentarily and looked deep into your eyes. “Let's head back to my place so that I can take care of you."

His tone left no room for argument. You simply nodded and allowed him to guide you out of the alley. You enjoyed the walk to his suite, mostly because it gave you time to calm your racing heart and regain your composure. Once you arrived at his suite, Jungwoo grabbed your hand and led you inside.

"You have a nice suite." You looked around the living area. It wasn't as luxurious as some of the places you've seen on Earth, but it was decent enough for an officer.

"Thanks." He smiled as he moved forward to wrap his arms around you. "It's nothing compared to your suite though. Nothing but the best for one of the best captains I know."

"I never told you that I was a captain...”

“Of course you never told me…” He leaned in close and kissed you again. “Didn't need to. I just know how great of a person you are.”

You melted at his words. The sexual tension between you and Jungwoo was practically combustible, and it wasn't hard to tell that he was just as attracted to you.

“How great?” You asked softly as he pushed you against the wall.

“Beyond great.” He nipped at your lower lip, causing you to whimper.

“Then prove it.” You whispered as he slipped his hand under your bra.

Jungwoo's lips traveled down your neck as he slowly unclasped your bra. Your skin felt like fire as he gently caressed your nipples.

“Fuck.” Jungwoo whispered. “I love these tits of yours.”

He ran his hands down your breasts, squeezing them softly. You moaned softly, allowing him to continue playing with your breasts.

He lifted your top up, exposing your bare stomach. His eyes lit up at the sight of your toned abs. With quick movements, he slipped off your top, sending your lacy black bra flying across the room. Jungwoo gazed down at your naked chest. His fingers traced their way down to your stomach, where he traced your abdomen with his fingertips. His touch sent chills throughout your entire body.

He lifted you to the countertop and slowly lowered his lips to your belly button. His tongue flicked against your sensitive skin, causing you to moan even louder. Jungwoo didn't stop there. He continued trailing kisses down your stomach, his hands at the band of your pants. With light tugging motions, he managed to pull them off of you. They fell onto the floor with a thud, leaving you sitting in only your panties. Jungwoo stood up straight and gave you another admiring look.

“Like what you see?” You questioned playfully.

“God damn, you're fucking gorgeous.” He growled as he ripped off his own clothes before dropping to his knees in front of you.

With quick movements, he spread your legs open and positioned himself between them. He tugged on your panties, pulling them down until they were pooled at your ankles.

“Now taste me,” You ordered as you grabbed hold of his hair and guided his face to your pussy.

He quickly obliged. His tongue snaked its way into your dripping pussy, causing you to let out a loud moan. His tongue moved in circles, swirling around your clit and flicking lightly against it. He paid extra attention to your sensitive spot, pleasuring you to the fullest.

When he felt that you were ready to cum, he brought his face back up to your clit. Using his fingers, he circled it lightly while rubbing it against your clit. You began to thrash your head back and forth, unable to contain your orgasm any longer. You screamed loudly as you came, sending vibrations through Jungwoo's head. He buried his face into your pussy as you cried out in pleasure.

After a few moments, he pulled his head from your pussy and quickly wiped his face with a napkin. “Fuck, I need to be inside you right now.”

He positioned himself between your legs and pushed himself inside of you. You groaned as you adjusted to his size.

“You’re so tight.” He panted as he held himself up by bracing his hands on the countertop underneath you. “Fucking tight.”

He continued thrusting slowly inside of you. You closed your eyes and concentrated on feeling every inch of his dick move within you.

“Does it feel good?” He asked after a minute of continuous thrusting.

“Oh my god, yes!” You moaned. “Keep doing that. Fuck, don’t stop.”

Jungwoo let out a small laugh. “There will be plenty more if you keep begging like that.”

He slowly increased his pace, allowing you to enjoy every second of his large cock penetrating your tight pussy. Soon enough, he picked up the pace again, increasing his speed.

“Do you feel good, Jungwoo?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Feelings mutual.” He gasped as he pounded harder and faster inside of you.

You bit your lip as he pounded his dick into you. It felt so good having his cock slide in and out of your pussy. His hips moved forcefully, driving his cock deeper inside of you. You bit your lip again, trying to fight off your impending orgasm.

“Cum for me, Y/N. Cum on my dick.” He grunted.

You obeyed his command without hesitation. “Fuck! Jungwoo!”

Your body shook violently as your orgasm swept through you. Your entire body tightened, causing you to scream out in ecstasy. Jungwoo moaned as he drove himself even deeper into you, continuing his powerful thrusts.

As you recovered from your orgasm, you opened your eyes and saw Jungwoo looking back at you with lust filled eyes. He began licking his lips as his gaze shifted from your eyes to your lips.

“Want to go again?” You whispered, knowing that you had more energy than before.

He smirked and nodded his head. “Why not?”

He lifted you from the countertop and carried you into the bedroom. Once he laid you down on the bed, he crawled on top of you.

“You’re looking at me funny. What? Did I do something wrong?” You asked innocently.

“Would your squad mates kill me if I said that I wanted to join you on your adventures?” He asked.

“What makes you think that?” You asked back, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I really like you, Y/N and I want to keep seeing you. But it’s hard when we’re different missions and all that. That means no contact for weeks or months at a time.”

“So, what do you say? Will you let me tag along with you?” He wrapped his arms around you and pressed his lips against yours.

“I would really love that.” You returned the kiss and closed your eyes. “But I have one condition.”

“Name it.” He grinned.

“That you fuck me in every position you possibly can.”

He laughed. “Let’s crash land on the nearest inhabitable planet. I’m ready to make your dreams come true.”

#nct #nct 127 #nct stories #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct smut #nct jungwoo #jungwoo smut #kim jungwoo #jungwoo #jungwoo x reader #space exploration #outer space #space theme au #nct and space

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artificial-transmutations · 1 year

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Two sides of the same coin - Ancestral Roots

The idea had been unusual enough to get Dylan to agree, but his first intuition had proven to be right. Visiting a museum, let alone a museum of anthropology really *was* a horrible idea for a first date.

His date, Henry, on the other hand seemed to be enjoying the place immensely. Looking at Henry, Dylan wouldn't have guessed that the other man was a history nerd, but apparently, not all nerds wore thick glasses and oversized hoodies. In fact, Henry was pretty good looking: tall and slim, with brown hair and blue eyes.

They were both standing in front of a large display case which displayed various tools from prehistoric times, mostly made of stone or bone.

"Don't you find that fascinating? How people used to live back then, what tools they used, what they wore?"

Henry had a shine in his eyes, while he looked at every single exhibit with enthusiasm.

Dylan on the other hand found the whole thing a bit boring, if he was being honest. Going through the exhibition for half an hour could have been kind of interesting, but they were here for at least two hours now, and only halfway through.

When they moved to the next room, that was African themed, Henry asked: "What do you think, who were your distant ancestors? What did they do every day?"

Dylan was only half listening because he had found something on the floor that caught his interest. He picked up a curious coin and pocketed it. He would need to show it to the curator later, perhaps it was a piece from the exhibition that fell to the ground.

"Sorry what? Oh, what my ancestors were doing. Well..."

He looked around in the room and answered: "Human beings came from Africa at some point, right? So, I guess one of my ancestors was a tribesman."

Henry nodded, excitedly. "That is very possible, yes! What do you think that man did for a living?"

Even though it was just completely fabricated, Dylan liked the question so much that he thought about it for a moment. He imagined himself as a Black skinned primitive man before deciding: "He was probably a tribal warrior. There were many things to fight back then, so it makes sense."

Henry looked at him with wide eyes and a big smile. He said, in a lower voice so only Dylan could hear it. "That sounds pretty hot to me, don't you think?"

Well, this was a kink Dylan hadn't yet heard about, but he had to admit, it was a nice fantasy.

"Yes, just imagine,", he answered in the same low voice, "the big muscles under the black skin, and the paintings on his body..."

Dylan grinned as he could clearly see the other man's groin twitch. He was getting into it a lot as well and needed to readjust himself in order to make his boner less noticeable.

"And how did he look like?" Henry continued to whisper.

"He had short black hair and dark brown eyes. He must have been strong, and he wears animal skins and carries a spear."

Henry gave an involuntary low moan, and Dylan also felt surprisingly aroused by the very short exchange.

"I... need to visit the bathroom" said Henry in a husky voice and hurried towards the next men's room sign. Before he entered the door, however, he turned around again to Dylan, who understood the move just then.

It was clear to him now, what Henry was going at, and Dylan was torn. On one hand, he never had much of a thing for sex in public places, let alone a museum bathroom, but on the other hand, he could very well relate to Henry. His cock was throbbing in the confines of his underwear, and he would go crazy if he didn't get release soon.

So, after a short consideration, he followed the tall man to the bathroom, soon enough to see Henry go into one of the stalls. At least, the bathroom was empty except for them right now.

He followed Henry into the stall and locked the door behind them. Immediately, he found himself thrown against the thin separator walls by Henry, who started to make out passionately. Dylan, too, was horny beyond measure. They kissed deeply, hungrily, and their hands roamed each other’s bodies. Dylan couldn't help himself when he reached down and felt the hard bulge in Henry's pants. He stroked it slowly through the fabric until he could feel it more clearly.

"You're so fucking hot", he whispered in Henry's ear while undoing his belt and opening his fly.

Henry was busy getting rid of his own shirt and pants, which wasn't easy, since he was lip-locked with Dylan most of the time. In-between, he moaned: "Just... imagine. How hot you would be."

Kinky! Henry wanted to role-play this. Dylan was immediately on board. "*I am* hot. I'm the hottest guy from my tribe! And I'm proud of it!"

Instinctively, Dylan widened his stance and shifted the dynamics of their interaction slightly. He was no longer the one pressed against the stall wall, but he was standing upright and tall, while Henry was the one who had to move around him.

Henry was completely naked by now, his clothes scattered on the ground, easy to see for anyone who entered the bathroom. He didn't care, though. All he cared about was the horny high he was on right now.

"Oh God, you're so strong. Tell me how strong you are!", Henry moaned while he removed Dylan's shirt and jacket.

"I am the strongest warrior of my tribe. No one can defeat me in battle."

Dylan flexed his arms as if to show off his strength.

Surprisingly enough, as he flexed his now naked arms, muscles bulged under his skin, popping into existence where there were only thin arms before. It felt so... Right!

"I can run for miles without tiring and I can swim in the strongest current!"

Dylan puffed out his chest proudly, a chest that quickly packed on definition. His stomach was adorned by cobblestone abs that paved the way from his impressive pecs into his pants.

On those same pants, Henry was unbuttoning them with his left hand. The right hand was busy pumping his own member, he just couldn't stop himself.

In-between, he encouraged Dylan to go on: "And you're not any man, but you're a Black man from Africa?"

"You haven't seen a blacker man than me!" Dylan said proudly, as his skin was darkening rapidly. Dylan, too, was now completely naked in the stall, and his loud and proud voice didn't care if anyone was listening. His ginger hair darkened and became black, while his facial structure rearranged to show his African roots more clearly.

"And you know what they say about Black men. It's all true, we really are so big down there. And I have the biggest cock of them all."

Although it stayed unclear if it really was the biggest cock of them all, his hard and throbbing member grew significantly, almost poking one of Henry's eyes out in the progress.

Henry couldn't constrain himself any longer. He needed to have that cock in his mouth now and never let go. As he closed his lips around the shaft, he didn't notice his own body changing, simplifying and focusing on his arms around Dylan's waist and his face that was buried in Dylan's groin.

Breathlessly, he asked: "And you are one of the early humans?" before getting back to pleasuring the superior man.

"You bet!" answered Dylan. "To be honest, I am, as my whole tribe is, pretty primitive. I am not really smart, and, uh, my equi... my stuff is very basic."

Dylan closed his eyes for a moment, and when Dyalo opened his brown eyes again, all the modern knowledge was gone, replaced by survival skills and instincts long forgotten. He grabbed Henry's head with his strong hand and pressed it to his groin, flattening him in the process until Hen... he... *it* was nothing more than his leather loincloth. With a few quick strokes, he finished and came in a wide arc with a grunt into the vegetation that had replaced the stall walls.

Dyalo grabbed his spear and turned around. It was time to return to his tribe, to his roots.

If you liked this story and want to read new stories as soon as I've written them, consider joining my riot page!

Also, if objectified guys are the best guys, be sure to read my other two sides of the same coin stories!

#two sides of the same coin #male transformation #inanimate transformation #racial transformation

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darkhighness · 1 year

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Good Omentober Day 8 - Give Me Coffee Or Give Me Death

Prompt by @disaster-dog

Crowley finds a new hobby and finds out 'what the youth are up to these days'. That being said, Crowley has a particularly hard day and Aziraphale helps him avoid choice paralysis.

They’d fallen into some weird rhythm in the past few months. At some point, every Tuesday Crowley would make the perilous trek down the street to the coffee shop and slink behind the counter prepared to make some coffee.

Months ago, Nina had been in a bit of a mood and insisted that if he wanted his usual six shots he could come behind the counter and do it himself.

The demon found something therapeutic about pulling each espresso shot and the repetitive motion just resonated well in his brain. The scent of coffee was almost enough to stave off the worst of his hangovers but really there was some part of him that enjoyed the ambience, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

Nina could never put him on any kind of schedule but she knew every Tuesday at some point a black-clothed tall demon would come and help relieve some of the pressure of the work day.

Crowley already had a few favourite customers. There were two writers who came through and always ordered the same two shots, who also taught him what body doubling is.

Another patron, an older man would show him pictures of his garden every time he came in, telling Crowley all about his grafting attempts and offering to bring him some cuttings if he was ever inclined.

There was also a group of three young alternative customers who would order various frappes and drinks to match whatever mood they were in. Crowley was always intrigued by their clothes and the way they referred to each other. Slowly but surely, they were teaching Crowley what different genders and sexualities meant to different people.

It was hardly a demon train of thought but it was intriguing. He was trying to work out who he was with Heaven or Hell and there was something comfortable about people who were willing to change on a whim.

On this Tuesday, Crowley very nearly didn’t come. He had been lying in bed, paralysed by the thoughts of what he could be doing but it all seemed like too much today. Aziraphale had already left to tend to the bookshop and he was just curled up in a blanket next staring blankly out the window.

His phone was buzzing beside him, the screen lighting up with Nina’s name on the caller ID. A few times he considered reaching over and telling her to fuck off but the other part of him knew she was too valuable a friend to lose. Not only to him, but to Aziraphale.

Aziraphale had closed the shop for lunch and Crowley heard his footsteps creeping up the stairs.

“Crowley, dear? I haven’t seen you come down,” the Angel called, slowly pushing the door open. He saw Crowley laying in bed and he let out a low longing sigh before sitting beside him.

Crowley shifted at the added weight on the bed and curled into Aziraphale, his head resting against the angel's chest. His copper coloured curls fell to cover his face and blankets he’d been hiding in had slipped down to reveal his bare chest.

“Today is a bit too much, is it?” Aziraphale asked softly, brushing the hair from his partner's face. He heard Crowley let out a small squeak in almost agreement and he moved closer to absorb the angel’s warmth.

Aziraphale saw Crowley’s phone buzzing and reached over. “It’s Nina, my dear. Would you like me to tell her you’re not well?” He offered, prepared to pick up the call.

Crowley shook his head and let out a low cry, “I want to go. I should go. But I can’t,” he just held Aziraphale, slowly growing frustrated that he was being so pathetic.

“I have an idea,” Aziraphale assured. He waved his hand and suddenly on the end of the bed was a pile of folded clothes, a black button down with a tailored jacket and a fresh pair of tight black jeans, “I don’t know if it’s what you would’ve chosen but maybe if you don’t have to make all the decisions…”

Crowley let out another soft cry, but not in pain or anguish just in some kind of relief, “Oh Angel,” he breathed, a small smile finally creeping onto his face. He wasn’t one to change clothes the human way but just having the Angel take a little bit off his plate felt like a small beacon.

He changed into the outfit as Aziraphale left the room and he walked into the kitchen where Aziraphale had made a plate of pancakes for him. The Angel was sitting there with flour all over the counter but he was so proud of his little plate of joy.

“Oh thank you, Angel.” Crowley smiled before sitting down to eat, “You wouldn't mind if I ended up going to the café after this? I know I haven’t been great company…”

Aziraphale just planted a kiss on the top of the demon's head before giving a smile, “I wouldn’t mind at all. I know no one can make coffee like you.”

The Angel got to work scrubbing down the kitchen before he ate his own food.

Crowley, still a little hesitant to start the day but thankful Aziraphale had helped him get started, walked over to the coffee shop. Nina looked relieved to see him and the line was almost out the door. Apparently, there was a market in the next street over and people were looking for a place to get a drink.

Crowley didn’t even say hello to anyone before he started to make the orders as Nina called them out to him. He let the muscle memory take over and they managed to get the line down, just in time for the young group to come in.

“Crowley! Nina said she didn’t think you would be around when we came in earlier,” The youngest fem-presenting one rushed.

“Sage, it’s good to see you. It’s just been a hell of a morning.” Crowley murmured, pulling the next espresso shot. He reached over and started to steam some of the milk when the second teen who, as Crowley learned, was a ‘cottage core lesbian’ called Gloria slid something on the counter.

“For you,” Gloria beamed and as she moved her hand she revealed a small multi-coloured flag pin, “We saw it at the market and thought of you.”

As Crowley finished the last of the drinks he picked up the pin and fiddled with it in his hands. He ran his fingers along the soft enamel surface, “Oh, thank you. I haven’t seen this one before-“ he admitted.

“It’s the genderfluid flag!” The third and final teen gushed. ZJ, Crowley remembered their name was. “You don’t have to wear it, but we remembered what you said last week about liking the choice of who you are…”

Crowley smiled slightly, genuinely touched by the gesture. It was stupid, he thought, for a demon to be caught up in human labels and identity politics but it felt like there were other people like him. He took the pin back off and pressed the spike into the fabric of his jacket’s lapel.

Nina looked over at him at this exchange and gave him a smile, “Hey Mr. Six-Shot, it’s died down a bit so why don’t you take a break and chat to your friends?”

Crowley made his usual six shots before slinking into the chair with his new, somewhat unlikely friends. They told him about everything they saw at the market ranging from desserts to tarot readings. Crowley was hardly invested in the affair but was glad to have people to talk to. It reminded him of why he loved humanity so much in the first place.

‘Wait until they meet Aziraphale’, Crowley thought and a large smile graced his face. It felt like he finally had a place to belong, even if it was just this small street in Soho.

#good omentober #good omens 2 #good omens #aziraphale x crowley #crowley #anthony j crowley #aziracrow #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #genderfluid #give me coffee or give me death

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baelpenrose · 3 months

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Nihilus Rex 27: Mind Games

Nils and Lash have some nice, healthy communication. Also, more jokes about mind games and preparation to deal with their enemy, rival and possible ally. As a behind the scenes note, yes, Ottendorf, Altendorf, and Altdorf are all real variants of the same type of cipher, and me and @canyouhearthelight arguing about which one was most in character to use was actually part of the gag that just went into this chapter. Sometimes it's fun writing hopelessly OP characters where we just get to nod obliquely at all the shit our nerdy asses have picked up over the years.

You better be careful what you do

I wouldn't wanna be in your shoes

If they ever found you out

You better be careful what you say

It never really added up anyway

I got friends in this town

Miranda Lambert, “White Liar”

Nils

Class was boring - I mean, it would have been interesting, especially the political debate that came inherent in the macroeconomic discussion of regulation - but frankly with everything else going on and the plans Lash and I were hatching it felt almost beneath notice. Like a waste of time before we got to the real action.

Our weeb friend was a smarmy son of a bitch, I had to give him that, and trying to trace him took work - one of the other reasons that I was just as happy to use the challenge and draw him to us. If it worked, it let us keep flying under the radar and gave us a layer of plausible deniability, and if worst came to worst it handed us a convenient option for another patsy if he proved less than tractable. Lash and I would have to be careful in our eventual conversation with him in how we phrased everything to make sure statements could be read to assume that he was pissed that we were taking credit for his ideas to set it up properly, but it could be done with good planning. Recruit if we could, cash out the option to get the Feds off our backs if we couldn’t - because we were going to need to deal with the fibbie at some point either way.

I shared the thought with Lash to get her thoughts, and see if we could begin establishing how we wanted to lay in that contingency. “Hey, so it occurs to me, if we can’t recruit this guy, we may want to have some kind of setup to feed him to the feds when we encounter him, let them think we were just doing some dumb, edgy marketing for our totally-legal activism and the actual ‘economic terrorist’ got pissed at us for trying to take the credit. If we can’t get him on our side, better not to have him in the way, right?”

She looked thoughtful for a moment - or more accurately, like she was plotting - before asking slowly, “How likely would we be to frame him for some of the shit we’ve done? Even just stuff we did before we met?”

“I’d have to look at his profile a little more closely, but bear in mind that the hack itself doesn’t really match the profile of either of our usual patterns, and nothing we did before that rises to the level where the federal government cares enough to pay attention.”

“I took money from Microsoft and donated it to charity,” she pointed out. “Repeatedly. That would definitely land on the news, at least.”

“Right,” I said, taking a breath, trying to steady myself, “and let’s not get into my thefts from social media and various databombings on their harvested userdata, BUT that followed a very different profile than the bank job, which is what we knew drew their attention - they’re looking for the people who’d run the bank job, not people who are little more than thieving horseflies buzzing around the heads of corporate titans and taking a few drops here and there that said corporations never notice enough to report.” It was an unpleasant truth - we’d stolen probably tens of thousands between us, but not all at once, and in increments that the corporations we’d robbed could lose to rounding error.

“Hey, you said you wanted him fed to the Fed, not to go down for the loans,” she shrugged. “Wire fraud across state lines is still FBI-worthy. Not to mention that many counts.” Lash started silently ticking off on her fingers before staring at them and nodding. “Yeah, plenty of counts, for sure.”

“Fair. I’m worried they’re looking for the bank robbers and we have someone we can give them as a patsy. So when we meet with him, let’s feel him out and make sure any statements we have are set up so they can be misread as him trying to find out if we’re stealing credit for his work, yeah?”

“Can do.” She snapped off a sarcastic salute before grabbing my elbow and semi-forcing me to slow down. “Either way, our ‘viral marketing campaign’ is ready to go as soon as you set up the location for the final clue. So, make sure your sandbox is as secure as possible so we don’t get any bugs in there.”

I nodded. “Yeah. I’ll have it ready in an hour. Want me to order some pizza while I do it?” I had an extra tab open while I was getting the proxy networks set up and sketching out the ciphers for the clues.

“One meat lovers, one spinach and bacon, coming up,” she agreed, pulling out her phone. “Don’t forget to write down the address for me once it’s ready so I can translate it a couple times and hide it in the last clue.”

“Yeah, babe, I know, we’ve been picking at this for a minute.” I said, softly smiling. I wondered if she knew she talked to me the way her mom talked to her dad. I had almost finished the third cipher we were going to be doing it with. “Think three will be enough, or should we do four? At five it feels obnoxious, but if he wasn’t too paranoid to be hooked with fewer than three, he’d be a piece, not a player.”

“Forty five minutes until food,” Lash announced before looking up. “I’m going to translate it at least twice - once to hex and once to… I dunno, a sound frequency maybe? So four should be fine on your end for the ciphers.”

“You got it. Altdorf code it is.”

“Altendorf,” she corrected, scrunching her face at what she thought was a deliberate mistake on my part.

“Nope. Altdorf. Right wing computer nut, probably also a gamer. Altdorf code is a memetic variant on the classic Altendorf book cipher, named for a thing in a game franchise popular with that crowd.” I replied, smirking. Dating a girl who knew as much cryptography as I did was a blast, but it was occasionally fun to flex on each other. Loved it when she caught me out, as she often did, but it was sometimes fun to catch her off too.

“Freaking nerd,” she half-mumbled, knowing good and well I would hear her. “But if it works, it works. Provided he figures out all the clues I’m laying out.”

“And then we put all this effort into this to show off for each other for nothing…” I muttered, watching her work over what she did as I finished up selecting a handful of games, books, and comics to cipher off of, with arc numbers for each and internally contained clues within the cipher to hint at what the target should be using for the Altdorf code. Nonsensical to anyone who didn’t understand it, but comprehensible to anyone who did - if you understood the rest of the cyphers it was under, of course.

“Ew, eyewatering,” she grunted before adjusting something. It must have worked, because she was able to actually look at the screen when she was done. “And now for the clouds…”

“Those clouds look awful.” I said, idly thinking out loud. “Really bloated, data-wise.”

“That would be because they are compressed audio tracks,” she confirmed. “Which, when unzipped and played, give the hex code. But yeah, they’re ugly, aren’t they?” The door buzzed and she looked at her phone. “Pizza’s here.”

“Ah.” I stood up and got the pizza, tipping the guy. After he left I turned back to Lash. “So, now we wait. Trap is baited and set with a challenge for a new ally or an enemy we can get rid of quickly. Speaking of the question as to what we do if he is a new ally: thoughts on how we get rid of the fed? She’s poking around the white supremacist scene, and stirring them up harder might lead to more of them poking around if she gets shot.”

Lash rubbed her face before getting up to get plates. “My first instinct is to lay low and monitor. Right now, there’s no actual evidence tying us to the situation, so monitoring would be the most conservative and safest call in the immediate future. And it gives us time to plan something in the event we do need to intervene.”

I nodded as I poured drinks for both of us. “Yeah. Fair point. Give him about two days, then we’ll meet him together. Two options, either he thinks the whole made up names thing is actually bullshit, in which case he’ll want to meet both of the people he’s working with and we can establish a triumvirate, or he thinks it’s for real and is playing like he thinks it's dumb, then he’ll want to meet with the heads of both groups, which means we’ll need you there to rep one of them. What angles we play depends on what angle he hits us with.” I was still thinking about the way we could feel that out while also maintaining the option to sacrifice him and dispose of him to the feds if he wasn’t amicable to a team up, but honestly that was mostly just a matter of careful phrasing.

“If it comes to that, as long as I am repping the Icono-whatsits, I’m good.”

“No, I thought we’d have the brown, anarchic immigrant’s daughter represent the carefully crafted illusion of the violently traditionalist ones who want to restore ‘traditional values’ because that would totally make the con hold up. Tell you what, when we take it global, and we have to do this in India, THEN we swap roles and you have to play a Hindutava nationalist and pretend to be a Disciple chick. For today, the heel role is mine.”

She set her plate down with a loud clatter, glaring at me as she stood up. “And on that completely uncalled-for note, I think I need to head home for a few days. Let me know if he gets in contact, and we’ll go from there.”

I sighed, realizing what I’d done wrong, then felt a surprising flash of irritation - at her, at myself, at the fact that every time we started getting closer I said something obnoxious and that we never just got a few weeks without some shit happening. “You know what? Yeah. I’m sorry. That was unnecessarily rude. If you want to go home, I get it, but please eat first, or at least take some pizza with you. I shouldn’t have been that much of an asshole - I’ve been jittery since the Fed showed up, and I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. Know you can’t pass yourself off as a white supremacist, I mostly wanted to joke around about the fact that as this goes global, we may have to practice swapping roles for other countries. That’s all.”

Lash took a deep breath and picked up one of the pizza boxes. “I know it will eventually be necessary for me to be the bad guy, but seriously. What part of this,” she waved a hand over herself, stopping to gesture emphatically at her face, “in any way says I won’t just blow our entire ass cover if I try to be a white supremacist? It’s not like I’m shirking work or something.” The free hand shoved her hair back and she exhaled. “I think we just need a couple days to get actual sleep and calm down.”

“You aren’t shirking work, I know.” I said, trying to take a breath. “I’ve just been…I’ve been constantly trying to figure out every possible angle we can take this from, because I want to keep us out of trouble and keep the feds away, keep this prick away from your family, keep everything under control. I said something sarcastic that I thought was funny because yeah, obviously this,” I gestured at her, “was not going to be playing the white supremacist, this,” I gestured at my own face, “was. And I wasn’t looking forward to it. And it isn’t your fault I’ve been obsessively plotting, I haven’t been telling you all of it, but it’s been all of the babbling about contingencies I’ve been doing since the fed arrived. Because I’ve been afraid. And I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” True, but I did also want her to see my perspective of how much effort I was putting into this whole thing. “And if you need me to give you a ride home tonight, I will, but seriously take a pizza. Because it’s too late for you to be walking home.”

The pizza box in her hand dropped back to the table and she growled in frustration. “UGH! And all the shit with Uber and taxis lately…” She fell back into what had become her seat on the couch. “Fine. But I’m sleeping out here. In clothes, so don’t get any ideas, buster.”

“We didn’t have time to go mattress topper shopping, so you’ll probably sleep better, and I’m insisting on plenty of blankets. And you’re eating your share of pizza.” I shrugged. “And even my Catholic ass won’t feel guilty about you being too damn stubborn to take a ride I’m offering.”

“No ride. I refuse to owe you,” she spat before biting viciously into a slice of pizza, shoving half of it into her mouth without a trace of grace.

“And thus, couch, blankets, and coping aplenty.” I said, sitting down. “You okay, Lash?”

“I am sleep deprived, stressed about the apartment being ready when my parents are discharged next week despite knowing that Mori has had it ready since the day after she got here, and I’m mad at you for being a jerk.”

“Mori took care of the apartment, you know it, you know you know it. You’re going to sleep better tonight, and I’m sorry for being a dick.” I said, coaxingly. “Things are going to be alright. Let’s eat, brush our teeth, then we can rack out, okay?”

“Fine,” she muttered, demolishing another slice of pizza.

I wasn’t certain what it said about my life - or life, in general - that “relationship issues” were causing me slightly more confusion and headaches than “FBI investigation” and “rival terrorist” combined. It definitely said something, but I wasn’t entirely certain what. Maybe it was a me problem. Maybe if I wasn’t dating someone who would do terrorism with me I wouldn’t have this problem.

But then it wouldn’t be worth it.

#original fiction #writers on tumblr #Nihilus Rex #Afterverse #cyberpunk #dystopia #modern dystopia #Arcadian inquisition prequel #miys prequel #traumatized characters

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seramilla · 6 months

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I’ve found a way to distinguish the asks of Clara/ Velvette without them ret-conning Clara/kiki.

In my opinion all the asks that deal with Clara/velvette take place in the past throughout velvette and Clara’s various breakups, however all of the asks with Clara/kiki take place in the present.

It’s easier so that the relationships don’t get ret-conned because Clara/Velvette’s relationship really helps Clara open her eyes to see that not all relationships are going to work and not all relationships are going to be easy work. And it also helps Clara grow as a person and realize that her feelings towards Velvette are ones of fear and resentment but she doesn’t want to let Velvette go because in Clara’s mind, Velvette is her first serious relationship so she’s afraid to let it go.

Kiki/clara’s relationship is based off of feelings of mutual respect and love for each other. There’s hardly any yelling or arguing because they work together in order to conquer the problem that is bothering them instead of fighting. It’s not Clara v.s Velvette and the rest of hell, it’s Clara and Kiki v.s what stands in their way.

Just because they’re fictional doesn’t mean we can’t add that growth and development as a character and in relationships. And toxic relationships no matter how people disagree are a huge point in development in a character’s growth in their mind and as a person. Because it affects the way they act around people and how they do things.

Speedy for rambling I wanted to get this off of my mind lmao

Bumping up this ask because it’s relevant.

No, this is all very insightful! You’re basically on the same page as me, anon. I am just kind of flying by the seat of my pants with the Clara relationship stuff. I’ve just been leaving it up to you guys to float ideas and then trying to incorporate that into a narrative. I had no idea how it would go. Kiki came out of left field and kind of put the impetus on Velvette to start to give a damn. But it’s been a fun challenge to balance out the Velvette favorable asks with the ones supporting Kiki.

You are so right about different types of relationships contributing to a character's growth, and how learning from toxic ones can lead to healthier ones down the road. I think that's the fun part about character analysis through shipping; everyone has different ideas, and you throw them together, and it plays out like a TV drama of sorts, haha! I don't think that's a bad thing, either!

I think your analysis is pretty accurate. Not every relationship in media is a healthy one, and often characters can have very complicated, complex relationships and that evolves over the course of the work. Especially by nature of these people being in Hell, it makes sense that not everything is sunshine and rainbows all the time.

This is kind of how I've mapped out the quote-unquote "canon" events around Clara in my head thus far:

Velvette is Clara's first real relationship. Velvette initially pursued her because she thought she'd be an easy route to Carmilla. She never really took the relationship seriously, treated Clara like another one of her assets, and just generally left Clara feeling confused with very off again/on again feelings. It's up for debate whether they were ever exclusive, since Velvette is also involved with Vox and Valentino to some extent.

Clara meets Kiki when Odette starts seeing Verosika. During a lull in Clara's relationship with Velvette, she and Kiki hit it off and start seeing each other. Again, not sure if they're exclusive at this point.

Velvette sees Clara with a new beau and starts making moves. She's determined to weasel her way back into Clara's life, and makes several poor, underhanded attempts, and blows up about it each time when it doesn't work.

Kiki defends Clara a lot in the beginning. As a Hellborn, she's not afraid of a Sinner, especially not Velvette. At some point, Clara gets brave enough to confront Velvette herself on her BS, and she has to do this a few times before Velvette gets the picture that it's over between them.

Velvette starts to catch real feelings. She doesn't realize what a good thing she had in Clara until it's gone. This leads to a lot of explosive, childish behavior from her. Whether or not she's willing to pursue Clara in a more genuine way, or whether it's truly over, is up for debate.

I have no real vision for what is, and isn't, endgame for these three, or if there even is one. Maybe Velvette or Kiki will reign supreme. Maybe both of them. Giving Velvette the boot? Eventual polycule? IDK! I'm just rolling with the punches!

Thanks for sharing!

#hazbin hotel #helluva boss #odette hazbin hotel #clara hazbin hotel #verosika mayday #velvette hazbin hotel #carmilla carmine #ask #anon #fan theories #storymapping #kiki helluva boss #odesika #velkira

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inmyfxith · 2 years

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The Kameyoan celebration

Pairing: The Sullys x OC

A/N: I don't know where it came from, I just had a dream about it. Found names thanks to a generator.

Warnings: None

Words: 3k5

Beyond the imposing continents, the planet Pandora was also made up of countless isolated islands on which Jake Sully was almost certain he could hide his family without being quickly found. Among the clans of these archipelagos, the Kameyoan, a tribe of hunters and fishermen whose connection with nature and Eywa seemed more important than their closest neighbors, persisted. After the recent death of the last Olo'ektan, his son, Awte, had taken charge of the clan. His first decision was to allow outcasts and exiles to join him. Awte had slowly made the idea, in the minds of the members around him, that everyone had the right to a chance to prove their worth and find a place in the world.

As the sun slowly left its zenith, the members of the Kameyoan clan were surprised to see in the sky the shadow of five ikrans flying over their beloved island. They finally landed on the fine sands of Kamey, from which the clan took its name. Soon, many Na'vi with skin ranging from deep navy blue to pale sky blue gathered around the strangers. Their large eyes were particularly expressive, with a slight upward slant at the corners that gave them a perpetual air of curiosity and intelligence. As soon as he stepped onto the sand, Jake Sully advised his family to be friendly and, above all, to let him speak.

Awte appeared promptly before them, accompanied by a group of broad-shouldered men that Jake identified as hunters. The new olo'ektan was tall and muscular, his deep blue skin highlighting the piercing green of his eyes. His strong, chiseled features, along with his broad forehead and square jaw, gave him the appearance of a confident and capable leader. Without waiting, Jake Sully paid his respects, as did Neytiri.

"I see you, Awte." she repeated. For his part, the young man did the same, remaining silent for a few moments as he observed the strangers who had just landed on his land. The crowd was sizing them up, betting among themselves on their leader's willingness to let them settle in.

"What brings you so far from your forest, Jake Sully?" He asked in his deep, resonant, but no less soft and assured voice. This was probably a new point that made him a good leader, Awte spoke slowly and deliberately, choosing his words carefully. Before Jake even had time to respond, the crowd split into a path beside the olo'ektan, revealing a tall, slender Na'vi with shimmering blue skin and eyes glowing the color of amber. Her long, flowing hair was a rich shade of brown with hints of gold and red styled in intricate braids and twists and adorned with various decorative beads and feathers.

"I see you, Tsora," Jake repeated as a sign of respect, to which she responded with equal esteem before offering him a kind smile. The father had heard of her when he told Mo'at that he was interested in the sea clans. Despite her young age, Tsora was a powerful and respected member of her people because of her unique clairvoyant abilities. She had proven on many occasions that she could see the future, and her insights and visions were sought after by other clan members. She stood in such a way that only one of her profiles could be seen, with her head facing her leader and mate.

"I have come to ask for uturu, hospitality, for my family and for myself." No sooner had Jake said these words than Awte and Tsora exchanged a look, one wary, the other sympathetic. But soon their attention shifted to the family that had just arrived. As Awte asked questions, Neytiri's gaze couldn't help but gauge Tsora's demeanor as she seemed lost in thought.

"They've come back, haven't they?" The young woman interrupted them, both men turning to her. When he didn't answer, she interpreted his silence as a confession. "Haven't they done enough already?" As she spoke these words, the young woman offered her potential guests a clearer view of her face. Behind her parents, Kiri let out an empathetic whisper. The tsakarem's face bore the scars of a tragic event years before. Part of her face and neck had been badly burned when the sky people had destroyed her camp in the forest. Despite the years, the burns were still visible, leaving a jagged pink scar running from his cheek to the base of his neck. Having once been part of this species, this argument could work against Jake, and he knew it.

Pivoting slightly, he ordered his sons in one look not to stare at her. But Neteyam and Lo'ak could not help but pay attention to her scars. Both had heard about the destruction of the camps by th sky people. However, when Neteyam saw the evidence so clearly, he could not help but feel sadness and anger. While his partner focused on his negotiation with Awte, Neytiri watched with a worried look as her counterpart approached her children. Approaching Lo'ak, the latter forced himself to look away, concentrating on the ground. He didn't want to look, he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. Tsora stopped in front of him, and offered a kind and understanding look.

"It's okay, Lo'ak," she said softly. "I know my scars can be intimidating, but they are also a testament to strength and resilience." Lo'ak looked up at her and gave her a sheepish little smile. But Neteyam took a step forward, positioning himself between his brother and their potential new host.

"I'm sorry, my brother didn't mean to stare at you." Tsora chuckled and put a hand on Neteyam's shoulder.

"I understand. But please don't feel like you have to apologize. I'm proud of who I am, scars and all." Neteyam nodded and offered her a genuine smile. Tsora watched Jake and Neytiri's children with a knowing look, then turned to Awte.

“These children will play a crucial role in the future of Pandora. We must protect them and guide them on their journey." The olo'ektan nodded, understanding the gravity of his tsakarem's words. He thus heartily agreed to offer shelter and safety to the Sully family. But Tsora wasn't done yet.

"Welcome, Kiri," Tsora said, her voice filled with the same benevolence she had shown the others. "I've heard a lot about you, it's an honor to meet you."

Kiri blushed slightly at this attention, but smiled back at the young woman. Tsora extended her hand to Kiri, who took it, feeling a wave of warmth and understanding flow between them. "I hope you find your stay with us enjoyable," the tsakarem added. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you," Kiri said, her eyes shining with gratitude.

As Jake and his family followed the young woman and the other warriors into the clan village, Kiri couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging and acceptance. She was eager to learn more about their way of life.

Finding their bearings in the large hut provided for them, Tsora took advantage of this moment away from the gaze of others to inform them of the speedy progress of their stay.

"Tomorrow night is the great gathering, and I'm expecting you to participate." The young woman began, helping Tuk unfold what looked like a blanket. "The ceremony is usually held in two parts, the first where we resolve the conflicts of the year and thank the great mother for all she has given us. And a second, more private one." She then turned to Neteyam, then to Jake.

"The Olo'ektan will probably want to fight with you, Jake. It's usually for the leader to show his bravery, and what could be more prestigious than a fight against Toruk Makto himself." Jake glanced at Neytiri, who seemed to disapprove of the idea. But his mate wanted more than anything to fit in with the clan, and if he had to do it by fighting, then so be it. He then promised Tsora not to hit too hard, to which she replied that he didn't have to hold back and that seeing his mate damaged only made the second part of the evening better.

The Sully's took their time to settle in and explore their surroundings. Contrary to their expectations, the Kameyoan were particularly courteous to them, waving whenever they passed them or dropping a smile here and there. Neteyam and Lo'ak stood at the edge of the training area, watching Awte practice his spear techniques. The Olo'ektan of the Kameyoan clan moved with fluid, practiced ease, his hunting weapon becoming a blur as he spun and swung, dodging and parrying with a grace and precision that left Neteyam and Lo'ak in awe.

But as they watched, they noticed that Awte wasn't using a regular spear. Instead, he was wielding a long, curved staff adorned with intricate carvings and symbols. The staff seemed to shimmer and glow in the sunlight, as if it was imbued with a power greater than ordinary weapons.

"What is this?" asked Lo'ak, his eyes fixed on the stick.

"It is the 'Fury of Eywa,'" Neteyam whispered, his voice filled with awe. "It is a weapon wielded only by the most skilled and respected warriors of the Kameyoan clan. It is said to be imbued with the spirit of Eywa herself."

As if sensing their presence, Awte stopped and turned to the two young men. He smiled, his teeth glinting white in the sunlight. "Would you like to try your hand at this game?" he challenged, motioning for them to come closer.

Neteyam and Lo'ak hesitated, giving each other uncertain looks. They had never held a weapon like the "Fury of Eywa" before, and they weren't sure they were ready for such a challenge. But Awte's kind and encouraging smile gave them the courage to step forward. "Come," he said, motioning for them to come closer. "I'll show you the basics."

Neteyam and Lo'ak hesitantly approached, their hearts racing with excitement and nervousness. The leader greeted them with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Don't worry," he said, seeing the uncertain expression on their faces. "I'll take it easy on you."

And so Awte began to teach them the basic techniques for wielding the "Fury of Eywa. He showed them how to grip the stick, how to balance their weight and how to harness the power of Eywa to strike down their enemies. As they trained, Awte corrected their mistakes and gave them tips on how to improve their form.

Neteyam and Lo'ak found themselves caught up in the excitement of training, and they began to feel a sense of pride and accomplishment as they improved under Awte's guidance.

"You're starting to get the hang of it," he said as he watched Neteyam and Lo'ak spar. "You're both natural warriors." Neteyam and Lo'ak smiled at each other, their faces flushed with excitement and sweat.

At the same time, on the other side of the island, Kiri and her sister Tuktirey were walking along the beach, their bare feet sinking into the warm, fine sand as their attentions were drawn to laughter and chatter. Following the sounds, they came upon a small group of children gathered around the clan tsakarem. The two girls watched in fascination as Tsora addressed the children, her hands moving in a series of graceful, fluid gestures. It took Kiri a few minutes, however, to realize that she was actually communicating with her little interlocutors in sign language.

Indeed, as Kiri and Tuk got closer, they noticed that the children all had one thing in common, they had no ears. The elder's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she tried to figure out what could have caused such a malformation.

"Come and join us," Tsora called out to them as she beckoned them over, her hands still moving quickly. The two girls hesitated for a moment, unsure if they were really welcome. But eventually they went towards the group. Kiri couldn't help but wonder more about the lack of an orifice and found the courage to ask the question.

"What happened to the children's ears?" she asked, her hands shaking slightly.

Tsora's face suddenly saddened as she explained that the children had suffered deformities from the use of gas by the sky people during their last settlements on Pandora. Many mothers or mothers-to-be had inhaled the gas without knowing it. Kiri's eyes widened with shock and horror. She could not even imagine the pain and suffering that these children and their families had endured.

Tuktirey, who had been listening quietly, suddenly spoke up. "Where are their mothers?" she asked, her eyes filled with concern.

Tsora smiled and gestured to the nearby trees. "They are right there, picking fruit," she replied. "Do you want to go meet them?"

Tuktirey nodded enthusiastically and darted toward the trees, leaving Kiri and the tsakarem alone on the beach. Tsora turned to Kiri and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I know this is hard to understand," she added. "But it's important to remember that these children are not alone. They are part of our clan, and we will always stand by them and support them."

Kiri nodded, feeling a sense of determination and resolve growing inside her. She knew there was a lot of work to be done to heal the wounds the sky people had inflicted on Pandora, but she was willing to do her part.

Although they had already made up their minds about the clan they had moved into, the Sully's only real understanding of the Kameyoan came through the Great Gathering ceremony.

As the sun began to set, members of the Kameyoan clan gathered for the annual Great Gathering. Huts had been set up around the main beach, and the smell of grilled meat and sweet fruit filled the air. Children ran and played, laughing and chasing each other, while adults chatted and caught up with each other. In the center of the beach, a large fire had been lit in honor of Eywa, and a group of musicians played lively tunes on their drums and flutes. The Na'vi were dancing and singing, their spirits lifted by the joy and celebration.

Jake stood aside, watching the scene with a mixture of curiosity and pride. He had brought his family to the Kameyoan clan in search of a new home, and he was encouraged to see how welcoming and inclusive they were. His sons, Neteyam and Lo'ak, had gone to explore the island with a group of young Na'vi, while his daughter, Kiri, had been drawn into a conversation with Tsora, the companion of the clan leader, Awte.

As the father of the family continued to watch, a commotion broke out near the blaze. A group of men had gathered around Awte, who was holding an "Eywa's fury" and looked fierce and determined. Jake's eyebrows rose as he realized Awte was challenging him to a fight. Then he remembered Tsora's words, and he knew he could not back down from a challenge. He stepped forward and accepted Awte's challenge, drawing his own hunting spear and preparing to fight. The two men turned to each other, their eyes locked in a fierce stare. Awte was a formidable opponent, his movements quick and precise as he struck. But Jake was not to be outdone, a former marine, he parried and dodged with ease, his own spear just a blur of motion. The crowd cheered and applauded the fighters, their eyes riveted on the fight. Neytiri, on the other hand, stood back, eyes squinting as she watched her companion take on the leader of the Kameyoan clan. She knew that Jake was a skilled warrior, but she also knew that Awte was not one to be underestimated.

As the fight progressed, it became clear that Awte was holding his own against Jake. He was strong and fast, his movements graceful and fluid. But Jake was fighting with all the ferocity of a Toruk Makto. Yet the fight looked like it could go either way.

As the fight between Jake and Awte reached its climax, the entire clan held its breath. Both men were bruised and sweaty, but they refused to back down. Finally, it was Jake who struck the final blow, his spear striking Awte's shoulder and knocking him to the ground.

The clansmen cheered and applauded, their respect for Jake's skill and strength evident on their faces. Awte, too, smiled as he stood up, his pride in his opponent's victory evident.

"You are a worthy opponent, Jake Sully," he said, his voice full of admiration. "It's an honor to have fought you today."

As the eclipse plunged the beach into darkness, Tsora stood up before addressing the crowd.

"It's time for us to leave for the other side of the island," she began, her voice carrying across the beach. "The children must stay here or return to their huts, as the rest of the ceremony is for adults only."

Neytiri nodded, her children gathered around her. "It has been a long day. Neteyam, I'm counting on you to watch over your brother and sisters. It is time for you to retire for the night." The young man nodded, a serious expression on his face as he took upon himself the responsibility of watching his adelphs. But, curious, Lo'ak, could not resist the temptation to find out what was happening on the other side of the island. He asked no permission, only telling his brother that he would try to reach the beach to observe the rest of the ceremony. Neteyam, as the responsible older brother, tried to stop him, but Lo'ak was determined.

"Come, Neteyam," he said, his eyes shining with excitement. "We won't be gone long, I promise. And besides, I need you to watch my back."

Neteyam hesitated, his instincts telling him to stay and watch over Tuk, who had already fallen asleep. But he knew Lo'ak was stubborn, and would not be easily swayed. He sighed and nodded, his own sense of adventure taking over.

"Fine," he said, his voice full of resignation. "But if anything happens, it will be your fault." Lo'ak smiled, his heart suddenly racing. He hadn't expected Neteyam to accept so easily, and he was grateful for his brother's support. As the two boys made their way to the other side of the island, Kiri stepped out of the shadows.

"Where are you guys going?" she asked.

Lo'ak turned and smiled mischievously at her. "We are going to join the adults for the second part of the celebration. Do you want to come with us?" Just like Neteyam before her, Kiri hesitated. But the thought of missing the fun was too much to bear, and she nodded.

"I'm in," she said, her voice full of determination. "But we have to be careful, and we have to be back before Mom notices we're gone."

And so the three young Na'vi set off across the island, their hearts filled with excitement and adventure. Together they watched in wonder as the second part of the ritual took place. Hidden behind some greenery, they were out of sight but had a clear view of the beach. From their vantage point, they saw the crowd of Na'vi split in two, creating a path between the beach and the sea.

Tsora emerged from the crowd, her slender form stripped of its meager finery. She walked down the path, her back to her people and her eyes fixed on the vastness of the ocean. As she walked, the vegetation beneath her feet seemed to light up with each step, evidence of her deep connection to Eywa.

A few minutes later, Awte emerged from the crowd, his own body stripped bare. He walked down the path and joined his mate in the water, placing his hands on her hips as he recited a mating prayer. Both seemed lost in their own world, their bond with Eywa strong and unbreakable.

The drums echoed and the shouts of the Na'vi filled the air, the sound echoing across the island and stirring something deep within the young spectators. They watched as Awte and Tsora performed their ritual, their bodies moving in unison to celebrate their love and bond with Eywa.

As the ceremony continued, more and more clan members joined their leaders in the water to perform their own rituals. Lo'ak, Neteyam, and Kiri watched in fascination, their hearts pounding with excitement and fear. They knew they were witnessing something special and sacred, and they were grateful to be a part of it, even if it was only in the shadows.

Tag -> @eywas-heir

#avatar #avatar the way of water #awow #jake sully #avatar imagine #avatar imagines #jake sully imagine #neytiri #neytiri imagine #neteyam #neteyam imagine #lo'ak #lo'ak imagine #kiri #kiri imagine #tuk #tuktirey #tuktirey imagine

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caxycreations · 1 year

Text

Advice? Help?

But I'm stuck. I'm writing a cafe scene and I just...My brain -will not process- where to go from here. I have the next notable event in mind, which takes place IN the cafe, DURING this scene, but it begins near the middle of the scene and isn't resolved until near the end of the scene, and I'm here at the BEGINNING of the scene struggling to put words down to make this connect to that.

Like...Okay, maybe y'all can help me here.

Beginning of Excerpt

The café was simple and elegant, with a forest green awning over a wooden door with a coffee cup carved into it. Stepping inside, I was assaulted by the scent of coffee, vanilla, chocolate, and various foods. There were several tables, and David pointed out a table near the front counter. I nodded my understanding, heading for it as he stepped behind the counter. Sitting at the table, I looked over in David’s direction. I watched him walk into the back room through the employee door, out of sight.

I smiled, picking up a menu and scanning it. They had a fair variety of choices, but nothing you wouldn’t expect at a place like this. Sandwiches, pasta, coffee, tea, a few soft drinks. The most out of the ordinary item on their menu was a personal sized pizza. I sat the menu down, deciding on my choice. While I waited for David to come back out, I let my eyes wander around the room. There were a few other patrons in the café, but not as many as I had expected given David’s stories of how crowded the place could get.

I could see a lynx, sitting at a table with a jaguar, and near the back corner sat a macaque by himself. It didn’t seem too popular at the moment, but I supposed that worked for me. I liked a crowd, but mostly just the kind that jumped around and did bad things on the dance floor. The stuffy, boring folks that sat in quiet cafés to relax weren’t people I had beef with, but they weren’t the kind of crowd I had interest in. I pulled out my phone, and opened one of my game apps, combining elements in sequence on the screen.

David came back a few minutes later, smiling. He skipped over to me and flipped open a notebook. “What can I get for you today, Mr. Trayson?” He asked, purring my name. I laughed, raising a brow. “Easy, the whole waiter-flirting-with-customer thing might give people the wrong idea.” I replied, smirking at him. He just rolled his eyes and tapped the paper with his pencil, silently encouraging me to give my order. I glanced at the menu one more time to refresh my memory, already having forgotten what I’d settled on.

“I’ll take a footlong steak and cheese, double meat, and a large water.” I said, folding the menu up again and holding it up for him. He nodded, writing down the order and taking the menu. “Great choice, we’ll get that out in two shakes of a badger’s tail~!” He giggled, skipping back to the back room. I returned my attention to the phone, casually swiping elements together on the screen. I sat back in my chair, resting the phone on the table and laying my head back against the headrest of the chair, closing my eyes.

I could smell food all around me, and even with breakfast this morning having been so nice, my stomach growled at the scent of meat, pasta, and pastries all around me. I thought about the sandwich being prepared in the back, my mouth beginning to water at the various smells.

End of Excerpt

For reference, this is Draft 3, and is by nature wordy and, at times, over-descriptive. I'm doing it that way not only because my previous drafts were poorly paced and I want to let the world breathe a little both during and between notable events, but also because I would rather go too deep into description than not deep enough, because it's always easier for me to cut out and shorten than it is to extend and add on when editing.

I know I need to have his food brought out

I know I need to introduce the inciting moment for the notable event

But I just

When I try to write the next passage

I can't. Words just don't come to mind, at all, like I've completely forgotten how to write.

Maybe it's a consequence of my brain frizzing out so much today, but I don't think it is because I've been stuck on this one part for 3 or 4 days now.

Help?

Tag List

Tagging these folks cause they seem to like my work! If you want to be added (or removed), just let me know!

@heavensfallenfaction @moremysteriesthantragedies @thetruearchmagos @a-scaly-troublemaker

#writeblr #writing #relan #literature #fiction #modern fantasy #furry #anthro #anthropomorphic #creative writing #writer #writers block #writing community #excerpt #excerpts

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transandersrights · 1 year

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happy friday! :3 for dadwc, some song lyrics! maybe they'll spark an idea for you. "You settle down, where you runnin' to? / What else can you prove? / How many, many more until you lose?" from Carbon Leaf's Desperation Song

(I take prompts! See info here)

Ty for the prompt!! 1k of post-DA2 Anders & Fenris for @dadrunkwriting, based on this song (which is a BANGER, Carbon Leaf is so good). Rated T, content warnings for: references to slavery and injury.

“You’re here again.” And oh, for fuck’s sake. Anders knew that voice, and how had this happened again?

Anders gave himself a second to collect himself, another to suppress the sigh, and a third to thread the needle for today’s third patient who’d refused magical treatment. Then, without looking up from his work, he replied. “You’re here again too, Fenris.”

Fenris’ chuckle was as dark as usual. “I suppose I am,” he said. “Yet one of us has half a continent out for our arrest, and the other does not. I thought Varric was moving you to somewhere safe again?”

“I did move again,” Anders answered. He didn’t shrug — his hands needed to be steady — but he was sure Fenris could hear the gesture in his voice. “Varric knows better than to ask me to stay idle.”

“He moved you under the supervision of someone he could bribe again,” Fenris surmised. And sure, that was fair. True, probably, but the healing set of hands helped — that was why they kept meeting, after all.

“What kind of injury did you get fighting someone outrageous this time?” Anders asked. Last time they met, Fenris had taken off his armour miles out of the town, removed his shirt, and stemmed the flow of the bleeding with that. He’d stumbled into Anders’ infirmary shaky, probably only alive because of the force of his will.

Fenris hadn’t moved to sit down yet, though, so it probably wasn’t so bad this time. Hopefully.

“It’s not me this time.” And that was a surprise, at least, but a concerning one. Because when Fenris wasn’t just out there killing people…

“How many?” Anders pulled the last stitch through, tied the thread, and cut the last of it. His half-grateful patient didn’t smile, but he did seem to be paying attention when Anders rattled off his usual instructions (take care, don’t remove them without the approval of a healer, don’t put too much weight on it, keep it clean, come back if anything at all seems wrong).

“Four,” Fenris replied, voice tight. “None on death’s door, but they need attention. I think one or two are just very hungry, but I didn’t have enough water for them, let alone food. Safer to give them all a check-up.”

“On your own again?” People did these operations in teams for a reason, damn it. Fenris was the only one Anders had seen actually follow through on the threat that he ‘worked better alone’.

“They’re back safe.” Fenris was bristling. In his defence, in all the times they’d encountered each other in various Tevinter border towns, Anders had never known Fenris to lose someone he was protecting; even if it meant he had to let one of their pursuers live. “They need your attention, if you’re done.”

“I am.” Anders ignored the twinge in his knees as he stood; he’d been working since dawn, and it was nearly dusk now. But there were still people who needed him, so he’d keep going. “Take me to them.”

Recent arrivals rarely came straight to his clinic, preferring to stay in guarded safe houses. Staying put was a skill Fenris — and Hawke, and Varric — would rather Anders learn too, but he preferred it like this. Eventually, he’d have to move on if someone with a little too much curiosity and far too much loyalty to the Chantry decided to look too closely, and this would begin again.

For now, though, there were four people who needed his help in a house a district away, and nothing was going to stop him. Definitely not Fenris, who was eyeing him with his usual mix of exasperation and barely-concealed concern.

“I hear things are getting tense down south,” he commented. Anders didn’t know if it was an accusation or not, but it was something.

“We get our news from the same people,” Anders pointed out. Fenris huffed out a laugh.

“We do. So?”

“So what?”

“Will you be joining them?”

Anders paused. He’d been thinking about it for weeks — months, even. From the moment he learned that news was spreading outside Kirkwall. News of the truth. He still didn’t have an answer. “It depends on how things play out. I don’t think they’d want me.”

Fenris scoffed. “You are rather a liability,” he said. They were unkind words, but not said in an unkind tone. He held an arm in front of Anders when he checked the street they were about to enter, then let him proceed. “You have skills they will need.”

“They need those skills here, too.” Healing skills were needed everywhere. If there was someone who decided who was rich and who was poor, there was always another someone who didn’t get what they needed. Someone who worked too hard. Someone who got hurt and couldn't get help.

Anders was needed in all of those places — and here, it didn’t matter if an escaped slave associated with the man who blew up a Chantry. They were already facing down desperate conditions with unthinkable consequences if they got caught; what was one more crime?

“The mages are your people.” And he said it when no one was around, just as Anders always insisted he did in Kirkwall — even though half the people in this district had the name he was using these days, and magic couldn’t get him hauled anywhere around here.

“Justice has no people,” Anders reminded him. “Just those who suffer and are in need of aid I can provide.”

Fenris sighed. They were nearly there, and in the low light of evening, Anders noticed that he looked tired, too. He was running himself ragged out here, in the hopes he’d save just one more person.

They’d never been all that dissimilar. Now, there was more that joined than separated them.

“I see I cannot help you make up your mind,” Fenris said. “I think they will be desperate enough to take you, but you are your own man. Run yourself into the ground wherever you please.”

Anders laughed loud enough that someone looked over, seemingly concerned. “And the same to you, my friend. It’s good to see you again.”

#dragon age fanfiction #dragon age drunk writing circle #dragon age 2 #dragon age anders #dragon age fenris

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dangerousdispositions · 3 months

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➪ GRAHAM BAEHR

if you’re hearing MURDER AT THE BINGO HALL by AMIGO THE DEVIL playing, you have to know GRAHAM BAEHR (HE/HIM; CIS MALE) is near by! the 28 year old MECHANIC at CAPSTONE AUTO & ODD- JOB HANDYMAN has been in town for, like, TWO AND A HALF YEARS. he's known to be quite INTENSE, but being TENDER- HEARTED seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that he resembles PAUL MESCAL. personally, i’d love to know more about him seeing as how he's got those EATING CANNED FOOD RIGHT OUT OF THE TIN, ALWAYS COVERED IN BANDAIDS, CARDSHARK, FEEDING AN ENTIRE FAMILY OF RACCOONS, LAUNDRY STREWN ABOUT, DISASTER GAY vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around BRIGHTSIDE long enough!

name: graham baehr

age: 28

d.o.b. & sign: june 9th, gemini.

occupation: mechanic at capstone auto, odd- job handyman & jack of all trades.

hometown: las vegas

gender identity & sexuality: cis male, pansexual, demiromantic.

relationship status: single, not looking but open to no- strings attached situations.

likes: microwave meals, easy money, animals, kids, zoning out to chill shows (like gbbo).

dislikes: nosy people, loud and sudden noises, casual physical touch without consent, cleaning, early mornings.

CWs for gambling, parental neglect/abandonment.

Up until the age of seven, things were fine. Well, Graham's Ma was gone more often than not... and if he wanted to eat most days he had to nick something from one convenience store or another, and sometimes she went weeks without coming home, but... still. It was fine. He was street wise and he knew the little slice of Vegas they lived in like the back of his hand and sometimes people let him wash their windows or car to get enough change to take to the laundromat. He was a big boy, like Mama was always sayin', and he could take care of himself.

His seventh year saw his Ma telling him to stay put outside the front doors of a Wal- Mart while she ran in to get a few things. A couple hours later, as the store was closing, when security was patrolling and found this tired, scared (he wasn't scared, he never got scared) kid still waiting outside, that's when things started going wrong.

He never saw his mother again. From there, Graham became one of those kids bounced around the system from one foster family to the next and then, as he grew older, group homes and shelters. Somewhere along the way, that sweet kid got buried. Pressure formed armor made of detached, self- serving coldness. The world he lived in, you had to look out for yourself, because no one else was going to.

Graham turned scrappy. Innovative became conniving. His baby- face worked against him when he first started trying to sneak in to the various casinos around the strip with fake IDs, but some of the less reputable places either didn't care or overlooked it, and once he was in... that was a turning point.

The rich fucks on vacation proved to be perfect prey. He ran a circuit of the places he could sneak in to, counting cards, picking pockets if he got desperate enough. He was seventeen when he finally got scouted by a less- than- scrupulous Casino Owner looking to keep some of the funds thrown around 'in the family', so to speak, and the rest was history. Not that he had much of a choice. He got the idea that if his behavior didn't start benefitting the right pockets, his luck just might start runnin' out.

His new job wasn't bad. A lot of the time it involved working the tables, and honestly, the fact that it came with a little protection and a place to crash most nights was a bonus. Little by little his new boss started asking more and more of him. Little favors, like give this person a message, or keep an eye on so and so, or take this package to this specific location at this specific time. Graham wasn't stupid.

...Okay, so he was a little stupid. But honestly, he was so quick with his fingers, a poker face to die for, he was cunning and quick and exuded the kind of confidence nobody questioned. Until he was twenty- two and he dipped his toes in the pool at an unfamiliar venue, and slipped up his third time joining them. Until they did question it. Then? Then Graham found himself getting the hell out of dodge. He ran. Truthfully, he's lucky his ass didn't get killed then and there, but he slipped past the (rightfully) pissed bigwigs and took to the streets he'd been haunting all his life. They knew his name. When he stopped by his shabby apartment, judging by a shiny, too- expensive- for- that- complex unfamiliar vehicle idling outside, they knew where he lived, too. A gut feeling told him if he went upstairs he wouldn't leave the complex alive, not that that was rocket science. He ran, and he didn't really quit running for a very long time.

The paranoia got to him. Frankly, he hasn't shaken it yet, even if a couple of years have passed since then. Some part of him is always looking over his shoulder, even if his travels have taken him far from his hometown.

Hemlock Springs is the first place he's stayed put in for a noteworthy length of time and he's been trying so very hard to keep his head down and stay out of trouble. At his core, he is a very jaded person, but he is achingly lonely and some (very deeply buried) part of him is hoping that maybe this will prove to be a chance for him to finally set down roots and maybe carve a place in the world where he actually belongs.

#hemlock.intro #muses #graham.

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heirsofdiscord · 1 year

Text

Kicking Far, Kicking Wide

FFXIVwrite prompt #5: Barbarous | 3034words Mercilessly or impudently violent or cruel, savage.

The Burn was an insufferable prick. It was an immutable fact you could bet on but Bukidai’s money was all tied up in running his mentor’s business now that he’d left. Which really meant that it was now his business and his responsibility. One of those responsibilities meant making sure their hired muscle were unobtrusively doing their jobs. He'd made the mistake of letting The Burn have that role and now he needed to fix it.

Bukidai had just managed to smooth things over with the customer that The Burn had managed to get into an altercation with. By the skin of the teeth, if you asked him. Masterfully if you asked anyone else. The fact Bukidai served as an on sight healer had helped.

Bukidai didn’t bother healer The Burn who was glowering up at him from the seat of his chair like a spoiled brat. Bukidai stood over him, arms crossed behind his back and his head raised high. Bukidai always thought himself small and kind of pathetic. Which, compared to other Au Ra men, he kind of was at his mere 6’7”. Here, however, in the desert of Thanlan, only the giant Roegadyn really towered over him. There were exceptions. The Burn was not one. Unfortunately, The Burn’s ego made him feel like he was twenty fulms high and almost as wide. The Auri man ran through the various things he could say to him but he couldn’t think of anything that would actually get through the idiot’s thick skull.

Deflating, Bukidai said instead “,you’re off bouncer duty and don’t be here during open hours. We’ll figure out something else for you to do.”

The Burn leapt up from seating all vim and vigor. He shouted, louder than was necessary for a man standing next to another “,all because I beat that guy’s ass? Do you have any idea what he said to me?”

“No!” Bukidai shouted right back, throwing his hands up dismissively. “I don’t care! It doesn’t matter! None of the things you have ever flipped your lid over has ever mattered. That man was drunk and you’re sober. Do you have any idea what half our patrons tell me within a bell of happy hour? At some point you have to be the responsible one and let it slide off your back.”

Bukidai turned away from him and marched off but The Burn followed him. “I’m not like you! I don’t care if they’re drunk or sober, I’m not going to let any idiot disrespect me.”

When this failed to get a rise out of the taller man, the viera added an ill advised “,this is probably why that guy left you here, you know. You’re just a dainty little wall flower that lets people walk all over you. I woulda left you too.”

Despite being from the Steppes, Bukidai wasn’t an aggressive man. He enjoyed a good tussle like every other Xaela, but violence for violence wasn’t something he cared for. There had to be reason; sport. The Burn just had a damned good way of finding one’s weak spot and punching as hard as he could at it. There were few who knew the reason why Bukidai was in Thanalan was because he’d been dumped there by a lover without a gil to his name. Had Moth’ir not picked him off the streets well.. Bukidai was in the business of helping those who’d had it worse.

Bukidai stood in the doorway between the Tavern and the backrooms, his face flushed and staring directly at a dozen people staring back at him wide eyed. Including Ibuki, The Burn’s ever suffering girlfriend who was gracefully helping man the bar in Bukidai’s absence. Every single one of them had heard what The Burn had said. Considering this, his voice was overly calm and level. “Is it another fight you’re looking for.”

It should have been a question. It wasn’t.

It unnerved The Burn but he grabbed at his ever flowing supply of bravado and got over it easily enough “,yeah and what if I am. I’ve had it with your stupid face and trying to make things good that ain’t good and-”

“Alley,” Bukidai cut him off and marched back the way they came.

Bukidai had never once in all this time accepted a fight with The Burn. He was infuriatingly good at deflecting him. The Burn was too foolhardy to recognize the shift as a threat and instead took it as a victory. He trailed after him and, judging by the sound of several chairs sliding over tile, so were several of the Dapper Than’s customers. It wasn’t every day you got a fight outside the coliseum, and for free.

“Aren’t you going to get your staff?” The Burn asked tauntingly.

“Won’t need it,” Bukidai replied.

The Burn rolled his eyes but grinned. Bukidai wasn’t a fist fighter like he was but if he wanted to make it easy, he wasn’t going to complain. All the better to wipe that sanctimonious look off his face. They arrived at the alley and Bukidai turned to him, adjusting to a combat stance in a movement so smooth The Burn almost missed it.

“At least take your heels off,” The Burn said, chuckling to himself.

“Won’t need to,” Bukidai replied again, but this time The Burn could see the cold look on his face.

The Burn played it off like he was losing interest “If you’re not going to take this seriously then I can just go. I’ll come back when you can give me a real fight.”

“This isn’t about a real fight, though,” Bukidai said. “This isn’t about peers testing their arms against each other or proving anything worthwhile. It’s about you fighting everyone because you can’t fight yourself and are too stupid to speak in any language that doesn’t involve your fists. You wanna make me bloody. Don’t pretend you give a damn about me if I sprain an ankle.”

That last part smarted but not the way Bukidai thought it did. Not that The Burn had any way of telling him anything about his feelings. He didn't understand them himself. Bukidai was right. The only way he knew how to talk was in a fight. “Fine! You wanna get beaten so bad I’m happy to oblige.”

The Burn thought he was starting the fight with a surprise kick but Bukidai was fast and read him like a book. He easily side stepped his blow and the one after that. And the one after that. And the one after that. “Are you going to fight or just dodge, asshole?”

Bukidai’s face was making him angry. It was all disappointment and fatigue. Like he was dealing with a rather annoying gnat rather than The Burn, who considered himself quite the fighter. He’d not considered what it meant to be a warrior of the Steppe. Both Bukidai and The Burn had spent their youths learning to fight but where The Burn had learned to survive against the beasts of his namesake, Bukidai had been lovingly taught by family. When it came to this, Bukidai with his adoration and respect for his teachers and combat itself was always going to come out on top. He had the same expression as the wood-warder that had tried teaching him before he fled the forest he was born.

Rage had consumed his mind; all his grief. He poured it behind his fist and lunged for Bukidai. All the fury it had taken to come out of The Burn alive. But Bukidai simply side stepped him again, grabbed his arm and twisted him around before slamming his knee into the smaller man’s back. This sent him sailing through the air and directly into a bunch of garbage. The Burn was going to crack a comment about how Bukidai was always chiding him for collateral damage but then he processed the fact he was smelling a lot like alcohol.

Before he could right himself, Bukidai had grabbed him and dragged him away. Despite his thrashing he wasn’t let go until Bukidai was damn well ready to drop him. The Xaela man wasn’t just a physical combatant, he was a magic user. It was fairly simple for him to conjur the elements of stone, water and wind to him. He raised a finger and pointed it over the lamp that now hung over The Burn’s head. It'd be a simple thing for him to break it. Only then did the Viera realize he’d let himself be led directly into a waiting inferno and he was covered in accelerant.

He had completely forgotten that Bukidai had also been Moth’ir’s favorite student.

Moth’ir was a 5’2” nothing kind of guy. He looked strong enough but he was also quick as a whip. The Burn knew that because unlike Bukidai, Moth’ir had clocked him a few times when he’d stepped out of line. He’d been in the middle of telling Moth’ir he could either fight him or shove it when he’d find himself flat on whatever surface was nearby. Moth’ir didn’t even seem bothered half the time save for maybe a twitching of the very tip of his fluffy tail.

There was a day in the past when Moth’ir had led him out into the desert on a job. He’d gotten himself into something of a big fuss and this supposed job was meant to smooth over the trouble he’d caused. The longer they walked the less The Burn was enthusiastic about the idea, which he’d never been keen on. Apologizing wasn’t something The Burn had done since he was very small and he wasn’t about to do it now.

He’d complained the entire way though Moth’ir grew curiously quiet as they went on. The man was full of long drawn out stories, snappy comebacks and cruel remarks that were said so affably one was hard pressed to be offended. Though The Burn always took offense. Now though he was as silent as the grave. This unsettled even The Burn who’d spent his formative years in an desolate land surrounded by aether starved beasts.

Moth'ir had tucked his mirrored glasses into his shirt and then his knives were out. He'd tried to stab The Burn. The attack had been so abrupt the only reason The Burn had been able to dodge was because he was already on alert. This began one of the longest fights of his life. Outside the first attack, Moth’ir was only playing with him like a cat and a mouse. The Burn had always thought himself the strongest person alive. Surely no one else had ever had to do what he'd done and come out alive. At least everyone he’d ever fought had fallen to him eventually even if he was a bit messed up himself by the end. Moth’ir, like Bukidai, proved to him he wasn’t worth shit when it came to someone who’d actually embraced their art. Never once did The Burn land a hit but unlike Bukidai, this wasn’t about making a point as soon as possible. Moth’ir forced him to fight to the very point of exhaustion and granted his attempts to stop with a new knick of his knives.

It wasn’t until The Burn was well and truly unable to move that Moth’ir stopped. He’d sat over his chest and pressed both his knives to his neck. The Burn wheezed with bitter sentiment “,what are you going to do? Kill me and just leave the body here?”

“No,” Moth’ir stared at him coldly. The Burn hadn’t noticed until know he had two different eyes; one brown one a pale gold. “Because that’s what you want and I’m not keen on giving you shit.”

The Burn tried to protest despite how heavy his lungs felt but Moth’ir’s voice rose. The fangs endemic to Keepers of the Moon Miqo’te flashing threateningly from behind his lips. “Don’t try denying it. There’s no other rhyme or reason for the shit you do and I recognize where that comes from well enough because I don’t want to be here either!”

The Burn had heard Moth’ir be angry but not like this. Moth’ir was all quiet venom and bitter notes. This was the kind of fire one only gets when they’re pushed to the very brink of fatigue of living. The kind of thing that continues boiling away in one’s stomach unable to go anywhere so it just burns away from the inside. There was something terribly dead about Moth’ir’s eyes.

“I don’t know where you came from and I frankly don’t give a shit,” Moth’ir snapped at him. “But that little girl you came with from Kugane cares about you so much and Bukidai too for some ungodly reason. You got one foot in the grave and one with the living but soon enough you'll have to choose between or you're gonna drag everyone down with you.”

Moth’ir’s face was twisting with a certain kind of grief. He knew. He knew but The Burn wasn’t ready to acknowledge anything he was saying. He swung at him but it was a sad thing Moth’ir couldn’t have been hit by it even if he’d tried to meet it. Instead he settled for wheezing a pathetic “Fuck. You.”

Moth’ir shook his head, disgust on full display on his face before he popped his shades back over those eyes. He lifted himself off of The Burn and readjusted his clothes before going digging around in his pack. He retrieved two potions from his pack ─ one for health, one for stamina ─ and placed them next to The Burn’s head along with a water pack. The Burn would later note ruefully that Moth’ir hadn’t cut him deeper than the health potion could heal. It shouldn’t have been possible to have that sort of precision in a fight but that was a testament to the distance between Moth’ir and him.

Moth’ir told him “,you need to get stronger and I don’t mean the meat that’s draining all your brain power. Figure out what’s important and why you should fight on the way back. Consider it your payment for me fixing another gods be damned mess of yours.”

The rogue whistled loudly. A draft chocobo, more fit for a roegadyn than a short miqo’te man, came zipping in from the malm or so ago Moth’ir had left her. Her pink feathers matched the pink he’d dyed the tips of his brown curls but she contrasted him greatly with her cheerful little kwehs. Despite her height, Moth’ir deftly rose to the seat of her saddle though he lingered there a moment to say to The Burn “,You think you named yourself that because you conquered that place but you carry that name because you never left.”

And with that the pink chocobo went trotting off into the desert. Moth’ir knew it wasn’t a talk he was ready for but he made damned sure it was ingrained in his head. Like a seed that just needed the right conditions to sprout. It wasn't his job to water it though.

“This,” Bukidai roared down on The Burn. Wiggling his finger at the lantern again for emphasis. “This! Is how easy it would be to kill you. You don’t think! You just throw yourself at everything with your fists out like there won’t be consequences. Not everybody you fight is going to forget about it afterwards and what are you going to do when someone’s stronger or smarter than you and actually wants you dead.”

“Do you have any idea how it feels to watch you keep throwing yourself at these fights as your friend? What about her?” Bukidai jammed a thumb in Ibuki’s direction. “How the hell is she going to feel when you get yourself killed?”

Ibuki stood there with tired worry painted on her face. It was an old worry, the kind that returned over and over and that she accepted would come again. Disappointment, no surprise and no hope. The Burn turned his face from hers unable to look directly at her anymore. Shame was boiling in the pit of his stomach where it combined with the rest of his unattended emotions making it all feel like rage. Ibuki would forgive him. She always did but The Burn knew it wouldn’t last forever. He didn't deserve that.

He hadn’t always been like this. There was a time he was a perfectly happy child who loved easily. Then the wood-warder came to take him away. He hadn’t wanted to leave and all the talk about duty and tradition felt like his family pushing him away. The wood-warder tried but he wasn’t interested in learning, he’d wanted warmth. So he ran. At any moment he thought someone would get him but his feet touched white sand and there was no going back. That’s how it was with Viera and the forest. You leave, you can never come back. So he learned to live in The Burn. It felt righteous to be there. Every obstacle a punishment for his leaving. Every pain another punishment for his failings. He pretended that surviving it had been an accomplishment but Moth’ir was right; he’d never left.

“Go home and get yourself cleaned up,” Bukidai told him before rambling to himself about the many variable things he’d need to do. He’d need to do something at the bar to keep spirits high after a rather disappointing showing. The crowd had begun to disperse after they realized their fight was turning into a familial scolding. Save for Bukidai’s neighbors who were doing a piss poor job at covering their rapt attention. He was so engrossed he almost missed the barely audible mumblings that The Burn had emitted. “What was that?”

“I said I’m sorry!” The Burn said. Words piled up in the back of his throat but he couldn’t get them past his clenched teeth. The pressure was stinging at his eyes but he wouldn’t let tears flow. He’d already humiliated himself enough for one night.

Ibuki and Bukidai exchanged glances and he relented. Sighing and throwing up his hands in a shrug Bukidai said “,It’s a start.”

#ffxiv #FFXIVwrite #FFXIVwrite2023 #cwwrit #CH:R𝔞𝔟𝔟𝔦𝔱 𝔓𝔲𝔫𝔠𝔥 ♦ᵀʰᵉ ᴮᵘʳⁿ♦#CH:A𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔠 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱 ♥ᴵᵇᵘᵏⁱ♥#CH:L𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔱𝔥♥ᴮᵘᵏⁱᵈᵃⁱ♥#CH:K𝔫𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰♥ᴹᵒᵗʰ'ⁱʳ♥#would you like a story about Moth'ir's shittiest son

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