#am i supposed to be death glaring you?? should i be neutral??? should i be like. actually presentable

[ectoplasmer]

tumblr cut off my tags of me questioning ryou's dad's parenting ethics so i think that's my sign not to bring it up lol

[fallingdownhell]

My first smut ask.

Gorou, Itto and Tighnari through a rut and you aren't there.

You got me.. I am SO down bad for this... and I won't elaborate on that more than I already have.

Characters Included: Gorou; Tighnari; Itto

Content: gender neutral reader; posessiveness; talk about animalistic features; talk of breeding; talk of overstimulation; semi-public; not proof read yet!

Word count: 1,6k words

Please tell me if I forgot to mention anything Content-wise!!

Minors do NOT interact!

Gorou

Whiny as FUCK

Like, Gorou is already a pretty clingy lover, but even more so when his rut is just around the corner

he is attached to you by the hip, never leaving you out of his sight, unless he absolutely HAS to. And even then, he makes it a point to return to your side as soon as the issue is taken care of

you know his rut is coming around when he starts acting like this, like you would disappear if he didn't keep a watchful eye on you

during this "Pre-rut" he growls at any other man that dares come close to you

he pulls you more into him, arms protectively around you as he growls and throws death glares at the other person

during his rut, he's not able to leave you alone for more than a minute. He is whiny as fuck, always demanding your attention to be on him. He always has to touch you

Normally, the sex with Gorou is pretty tame, he himself being a switch outside of his rut, but leaning more to the submissive side

during rut however, you can never find a way to overpower him. He pushes you down against the mattress, pushing his cock into you. He can't waist another second without feeling you spasming around him

He knows he should prepare you more for it, but he just can't be bothered

Now, you left Watatsumi Island two weeks ago for a mission. It was only supposed to last a few days, but some unforseen complications arose and you had to extend your leave, and an end was not in sight yet

a few day ago, Gorou has entered his rut and he is desperate

He is rutting his cock against your pillow, his head burried in your favourite blanket to get a smell of you

He whines and moans so loudly, not caring that the people outside his tent can hear him

He calls your name over and over again

He's lost count on how many times he came already, but it's never enough. Rutting against your pillow just didn't hold up to the feeling of your hole clenching around him, knotting you so that not a drop of his cum would be wasted

he reaches down to stroke his dick at the thought of this, wailing as he came yet another time, but his cock didn't grow soft. So, he put his cock on the mattress, placing the pillow above it and started thrusting like this, imagining that it was you laying underneath him

he hated how he was so desperate for you, how he kept calling your name and begging for you to finally come back to him so he can breed you. Yet his prayers were left unanswered and he was forced to continue this madness..

Archons, he swore he would make your legs shake and quiver from overstimulation once you came back to him...

Tighnari

He's a bit more composed and level-headed than Gorou is

After all, Tighnari is mated to you, so there was no reason for him to follow you around everywhere and fend of other people. He knows you're just as committed to him as he is to you

And yet, when the time for his rut comes around, all those thoughts and reason are thrown out the window

When this time comes around, he grows restless, more snappy than ususal and far more sarcastic. He also has a pretty hard time concentrating on stuff, since he's very easily overstimulated right now

he keeps smelling you everywhere, he is hyperaware of his surroundings and his ears pick up on every little sound

You know his rut is right around the corner when he starts nesting

Since you're no hybrid like him, you don't have these kinds of instincts. He does, although they aren't ususally this strong. But he thinks he has to make up for this, so he takes over the nesting part, filling up the bed equally with shirts and pillows both used by him and you.

because as much as he wants to be surrounded by your scent while he fucks you, he wants you to have the same experience with his scent

normally, Tighnari is a dominant lover in bed, yet he's still gentle with you, worshipping you and giving you the pleasure you deserve before he thinks about his own desires

however, when in rut, he has no controll over his urges. He just takes you every way he desires

100% bites you, everywhere he gets the chance to, but prefers to bite down on your neck, especially when he comes deep inside of you

during his rut, he has moments of clarity, where he takes care of you, feeding you and making you drink water, before his instincts take hold of him again and he begins ravishing you again

this rut however, you're not here. A family emergency came up and you had to travel back to Mondstadt to help out your parents. And while you stayed in contact with Tighnari via letters, it wasn't enough for him to get him through his rut

he required your physical presence to feel better, it was driving him and his brain crazy that you were not here, in his arms, where you belong

on top of that, this rut seemed to be especially bad, his instincts going more haywire than they normally do

yet, he can do nothing else than to grind his cock into his hands, the tight grip he has on himself trying to mimic the feeling of your hole when he's inside you

his knot swells at the thought, but only when he's about to come does he loosen his grip on his dick so that his knot is now also surrounded by his hands

he imagines how you would moan and scratch his back like you usually do when he knots you, pumping you full of his cum

that image is what drives him over the edge finally, but the feeling of satisfaction doesn't settle, like all the times before

he whines, feeling desperate, starting to beg the empty space of his hut that please, please, please, make you appear in front of him magically so he can fuck you

but for now.. he just has to figure out a way to survive this horror of a rut without you...

Itto

Itto, just like Gorou, is attached to you by the hip

he is never seen without you around, and you can never be seen without him following you around like a lost puppy

It's cute most of the time, but it can also get annoying, especially in times where you just need a break but he keeps following you around, trying to hide around corners or behind bushes, failing to notice that he is still perfectly visible to everyone around, especially you

Pre-rut Itto would also be more whiny, but he also grows very sensitive to what you say

you mention something you like? He's already on his way to get it!

You say something about him that he has taken in a negative way? He gets big puppy eyes and asks you if you're sick of him and if you don't love him anymore

It can get annoying, but it's also really adorable since he's just so desperate to make you happy, no matter what way

at some point, you started to wonder if that behaviour before his rut starts may be some kind of compensation for how he acts DURING them

because, without exaggeration, Itto becomes so selfish during that time

he doesn't waste too much time preparing you, even though his cock is huge and it always hurt when he puts it in, no matter how long he prepares you beforehand

his thrusts are also relentless, the only goal in his mind being his release. He does hit your good points, but that more or less happens on accident thanks to his size once again

He is so vocal, too. Screams and moans without care on who might hear the two of you, he really can't be bothered

He tries to stimulate you as well, but he just feels so good, thrusting his thick cock inside of you, that he forgets to move his hand. You have to grind your hips against him to get the stimulation you need to also be pushed over the edge

He always apologizes for his behaviour profusely after his rut is over, but it happens again every time after that

however, as Itto has started his rut yesterday, you were no where to be seen with him

A friend of yours invited you out on a vacation. You both have misscalculated the time his rut would arrive, thinking you would make it back before then, you agreed to the trip

so, here he was now, having to deal with this alone for the first time since he has met you, and he wasn't happy about it

Itto pumped his cock in frustration, moaning your name loudly, his eyes closed as he imagined you, above him, riding his cock like you needed it to survive

the mental image was amazing, but it just doesn't come close to having you actually on him

another grunt came out as he thrusted his hips upwards, pickung up the pace of his hand

he focused on his memories, recalling how it felt to be inside you, how your hole always struggles to take him fully, yet you always clamp down on him so nicely

He comes for the nth time in his hand, pumping himself through his climax and for the hundreth time now he moans your name and wishes you would be here with him...

[the-power-of-a-pen]

A Way Home

Fandom: Spiderverse

Summary: Following the loss of his alternate universe daughter, Miguel is reluctant to risk letting anyone close to him and breaking canon again. However, as most anomalies are returned to their universes, there's the issue of you. You don't have a universe to return to. So, after having you on his team for half a year, he adopts you as his child.

Word Count: 4654

Pairing?: Father-child relationship btwn Miguel and gn! reader.

Trigger Warnings: Some cursing, reader is hinted to having a traumatic past (very briefly and vaguely described), 1 reference to reader as "Spiderman" (meant as a gender-neutral phrase)

A/n: This turned out to be longer than I had planned b/c I realized how much I had to add to make the change of heart even slightly natural, so let me know if y'all want a part two of the reader and Miguel interacting further along the adoption. Not sure how I feel about the structure + characterization in this one. Feedback much appreciated! Please!! I'm on my hands and knees, begging for feedback!!!

------

"Lyla, status on current anomalies," Miguel ordered. He leaned over the yellow panels in front of him, watching the same scene of him and his child playing over and over again. His grip on the console tightened.

She blipped into view. "Currently, there are 918,503,201 anomalies to be returned to their home universes. That's 40% less than yesterday! Spider-Byte does have an update for you regarding-"

"I'll convene with her later. I'm busy."

"Busy brooding over your twelfth cup of coffee. Not enough sugar this time around?" Lyla teased, only to be met with a glare. "Alright, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. But seriously, it can't wait. A canon event was disrupted and now there's a spider-person without a universe to return to."

Miguel turned around dangerously fast. "What did you just say?"

"Talk to Margo -- she'll fill you in." Lyla blipped away.

------

"There you are," Margo mumbled to herself as Miguel approached. "This one's in rough shape, got dropped in Earth 616 and put up a fierce fight before Jessica took them to HQ. I tried to send them through the Go Home Machine, but it just dropped them back here."

"And you're sure it's not a hardware issue?"

"It's 2099," Margo drolled and rolled her eyes. "There's no hardware issues anymore, grandpa."

"Then try sending them home again. I don't see why this requires my supervision."

"This machine tears people's atoms apart and throws them back together in other dimensions," she explained. "If I run the same person through the machine too many times, they could die."

Miguel sighed heavily and began pacing around. "Well, what am I supposed to do? Keep them here forever?"

Margo looked at him like he was crazy and slowly nodded. "You can't leave them here to die."

"They're an anomaly anywhere they go, Spider-Byte. Maybe death would be a mercy."

"To you," Peter B. called from behind him.

"Maldito sea, carajo" Miguel cursed under his breath, turning around. "I thought you were taking the week off."

"Well, I was going to, but Mayday was begging me for another one of these cafeteria burgers," he said with his mouth full of food. "They're really good, you should seriously try them sometime."

Miguel's eyes darted to Mayday and quickly darted away. "I have work to return to in my office, so if you'll excuse me-"

Peter stepped in his way. "I'm sorry, Miguel, but I can't let you walk away from this problem. It's gone too far."

"I'm sorry, what?" Miguel questioned, laughing bitterly.

"Ok, I'm not great with words, especially not in front of big, strong, angry men, so MJ had me prewrite this, let me just get it- oh, Mayday has it. Mayday, hold the paper up for daddy, thanks, sweetheart."

Peter cleared his throat and began to over-annunciate his speech. "Everyone in this building joined your society because they believed in your ability to lead, shape, and change the world. We trusted you to use humane practices behind your actions and to keep the safety and rights of humanity at mind before all else. However, given the fact- Ok, this is bullshit - sorry, Mayday, don't tell mommy. Point is, Miguel, that you claim that you're all about saving the multiverse and saving humanity, but then you throw half of your sanity away to hunt down a 15 year old kid who just wants to save his dad. You're so obsessed with the concept of saving humanity that you forgot what it's like to care about individual humans. You forgot how to be a human."

"I never forgot what it felt like to care. To love."

"It's okay to admit that the new kid reminds you of your daughter, you know."

For a moment, Miguel and Peter B. just stood across from each other in silence, unable to break eye contact. Miguel's expression was intense, but otherwise unreadable. Then: "Go home, Parker. More and more of you prove that you're untrustworthy when it comes to prioritizing the greater good. I'm not afraid to get rid of you, too."

Peter's arms gripped on tighter to Mayday. He seemed to want to say something, but found it in him to walk away. Once he went through his portal back home, Miguel called for Lyla.

"Hold the chatter, Lyla," he said before she could open her mouth, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Silence any notifications except for the urgent ones. And I mean urgent."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," she remarked sarcastically, but complied.

------

Everything in Miguel's office repeated like a broken record. The video of his daughter. Peter's comment that he "forgot what it's like to care about humans, forgot how to be human." Gwen's "we're supposed to be the good guys." The feeling of his own child glitching out of existence in his palms, the very reason he got into this work. The ticking of the clock. The ticking of that motherfucking clock.

He zipped a web to the clock and smashed it into the ground, falling to a knee amidst the broken glass.

"I understand that you're having a very emo moment right now, Mr. O'Hara," Pavitr began, "But Jessica told me to drop this off." He placed the file on the floor and nudged it over with his foot as far as he could without getting too close. "I'm heading home now, have a great day!"

"Wait."

"Oh, I was afraid you would say that."

"Tell Jessica to report to my office."

"She said to tell you that she's not available until noon tomorrow."

"Of course," he chuckled angrily. "One person's off for the week, another needs 3 weeks of recovery. Now one of my only trustworthy members can't report for duty until tomorrow. But who's checking in on me, huh? That's right - no one. I took on this leadership role because I know firsthand what it feels like to have the only joy in your life, your only reason for living, taken away from you because of your own reckless mistakes. And despite all of that, I made it my life's mission to make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else. But now I'm the villain?! "'We're supposed to be the good guys!'" "'You can't leave them to die!'" "'They remind you of your daughter.'" But does anyone else here know the pain of losing a child you weren't even destined to have?"

Pavitr blinked heavily. "With all due respect, sir, I'm 17."

Miguel barely seemed to hear him. He sank to the floor, running his hands through his hair and not bothering to clear the glass shards around him. "Maybe they're all right. Maybe I'm the one hurting everyone else. Maybe I'll make the same mistake I did before, and take another innocent life because I want to feel fulfilled, just for a moment."

"Should I get someone?"

Miguel sighed. "Just go."

------

“Morning, sunshine,” Jessica called, taking a seat in Miguel’s office. “You had a chance to go through the file?”

Miguel hummed in agreement. “Need a second opinion.”

Jessica flipped through her copy of your file. “Teenager, been Spiderman for 2 years, originally from Earth 45, but got dropped in Ben’s world. A slippery one for sure; took nearly two hours to get them on the ground. Tried talking to them, but they wouldn't speak. I know my stance on this, but what’s yours?”

Miguel paced around the room. “We can’t keep them here. They’re an anomaly regardless of where they go. Margo said that it would be too inhumane to send them through the Go Home Machine again, so… I think we should let them go quietly.”

“Are you serious?”

“When am I not serious?” He took a seat across from Jessica. “I’ve been hearing it from everyone else. I need to hear it from someone who was there from the beginning. Someone who I trust. Am I falling off the edge? Have I gone too far?”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re just now questioning that? Look, as your friend, I’ll say this: you’re taking too much weight onto your shoulders. You need to stop being Spiderman for a moment and start being Miguel.” She shifted in her seat. “But, as your teammate, I want you to know that I’ll be by your side no matter what you choose.”

Miguel nodded, but he was totally spaced out. All he could think about was his daughter. How he wanted to take this one in so bad, just to feel like a father again, feel like a man again. How he feared the consequences of love. 

Jessica snapped in front of his face. “Earth to Miguel.”

He shook his head. “What?”

“Look, I can’t say that I don’t agree with your initial idea. But I look at them, and at Gwen, and at my future kid, and-” She put her hand on her stomach “-I just can’t imagine leaving them in the dust like that. I was wrong about Gwen, yes, but these kids are suffering. And I don’t know if we can keep making these hard decisions that put these people right back where they were trying to escape from and still call ourselves heroes.”

Miguel held his face in his hands. “I don’t know what’s up and down anymore, right or wrong. I was all of these kids once: Miles, Gwen, Hobie. I know what it’s like to love your family so much that you throw everything else to the wayside. But that cost me my child, and thousands of other lives. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do anything to stop it. I just want to stop the suffering. I just want it to stop.”

Jessica gave him a moment. “Let’s meet the kid. Give them a trial before we make any decisions we can’t take back.”

“Alright,” he agreed, “But if you’re wrong about this-”

“Then lunch is on me. Come on, mafioso.”

------

“Here they are,” Margo announced. “Just so you know, they’re fully aware of their situation, but not very talkative.”

“Let me talk to them,” Miguel insisted. “I want to hear what they have to say.”

As Miguel and Jessica approached, you refused to meet their eyes. Instead, you drew your hood closer to your face.

Miguel took a knee by you, talking through the red barrier. “Hey, kid. My name is Miguel. Miguel O’Hara. I’m Spiderman.”

You gasped dramatically. “No way! Really? I never would have guessed!”

He took in a breath. “So you do speak. Look, we’re trying to relocate you, but we need to have your account of what happened. Why doesn’t your home exist anymore?”

You shrugged and counted off the events on your fingers. “Dalmatian-looking dude crashed through a window at my internship. He went straight for the collider room, and most of my mentors were at lunch, so I went after him. I tried to shut off the collider at the same time he stepped through it, he pushed me into a hole, that lady behind you caught me after an uncomfortably long chase, and here we are.”

“You worked at Alchemax,” Miguel mumbled, though mostly to himself.

“Yeah,” you replied, leaning back. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Did you get bitten by the radioactive spider before or after working there?”

“Did I fucking what?”

“That’s how you got your powers, right?” He asked.

“My powers? Oh, I see what’s happening here,” you laughed. “You’re all off your rockers! Let me guess, this is some alternate dimension Alchemax where everyone’s trying to biologically get the abilities that I developed through technology. Ooh ooh, or, this is an elite spider society trying to save the multiverse from itself!”

“That was really just a guess?” questioned Jessica.

“I read a lot of sci-fi,” you explained.

“Nevermind all of that,” Miguel groaned. “What’s your story, kid? What’s your motive? Because if we don’t have that information, we can’t help get you out of there.”

Your expression became grave for a moment as you considered your options and chuckled bitterly. “My story? My story is that I’m a poor kid from the slums who worked their ass off to get into a good school so that I could do better for my family. My story is that my family never loved me, my friends never cared, and I was forced to choose between what I love to do and what the world needed from me. I didn’t have the power to stop my parents from hurting me or stop people from hurting each other. So, I manufactured that power and took it into my own hands. My story is that the moment I was released from that hellhole of a world, I was locked up in a three foot wide cage and forced to talk about my feelings. I heard what you guys were talking about in that back room. All I ask is that you do it quickly. I don’t like waiting.”

“Miguel, we can take a quick debrief if you need one,” Jessica offered, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Miguel didn’t budge. He looked into your eyes and felt your pain like it was his own. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally: “Let them go, Margo.”

“What?” 

“You heard me,” he asserted. “Let them go.”

Margo released you and offered her hand to help you step down from the pedestal, which you reluctantly accepted. “Didn’t know you were one for sob stories, Mr. O’Hara,” you mocked, though your comment fell through as soon as your legs trembled from lack of use.

“I’m not,” he responded, walking up to you. “But I know an innovator when I see one. You’re hurt, yes, but you have the capacity to do so much good. I’m offering you a place on my team.”

You approached cautiously, your arms crossed. “And if I say no?”

“I’d ask you to reconsider.” He held out his hand for a shake. You accepted, and he smiled. “Welcome to HQ.”

Margo whooped in the background and gave your shoulder a squeeze.

------

“Ok, first mission briefing,” Miguel started, walking backwards.

“On the move?” you asked.

“That’s the only way to do it.” He shot a web to a nearby building and dropped from an HQ terrace. 

You followed suit. “Where exactly are we going?” you shouted over the wind.

“Earth 616. There’s a rogue Vulture stealing tech from Osborn. We’d let it happen, but the man's the only thing between a country of people and an all-out war.”

“Got it.”

“We go in, capture Vulture, and bring him back to HQ. Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

 You stepped through your portal and immediately got whiplash from the pure speed of a nearby aircraft. 

Vulture swooped down from above and tore the tail off of the police helicopter. It crashed into a skyscraper and gained speed as it headed for the street below. 

Miguel spoke to you through the comms. “Trial number one, newbie. I’ll pursue Vulture; you stop that helicopter from hurting civilians.”

“On it.” You dived off of your skyscraper to gain speed and pulled yourself forward with your webs. In one smooth movement, you grabbed the two co-pilots and placed them on the closest rooftop. 

The helicopter was quickly approaching the ground, where children were playing in an enclosed playground. 

“Shit,” you murmured, propelling yourself under the machine to create a landing pad for it at a safe distance from the kids. At the rate you could fire, you wouldn’t be able to stop it on time. 

In the distance, you saw Miguel struggling to keep Vulture away from a construction site, and reached out to him over the comms. “Have him ram into that crane.”

“What?”

“Just trust me.”

Miguel redirected the Vulture, dodging last second when he attacked so that the crane would fall down. 

The crane caught the chopper where it was, and you used it as a crutch to help you redirect the chaos to the empty street. You swung around the crane five times, wrapping an immense amount of webbage around it and attaching along the side of a business building. When the helicopter threatened to fall due to the weight of it, you shot three web bombs at it to keep it in place.

When you reached the ground, you were out of breath and half-heartedly waving to the clapping children and their parents. Miguel placed his hand on your shoulder as you observed the incapacitated Vulture.

“Not bad, kid,” Miguel chuckled. “Not bad.”

------

A good six months had passed, and you had risen in the ranks of the Spider Society. You were still without a place to stay, and had been bouncing from place to place in between missions. The first month, it was Pavitr and his aunt’s place. Then, Hobie’s, then HQ, and finally, Gwen’s. Most of your free time was spent discussing tech with Margo or trailing behind Miguel. 

A building-wide alert had gone off, sending every spider-being into high alert as they searched for the threat.

“What’s the sitch?” you asked Miguel as the two of you bounded down the hall. “A futuristic Rhino that’s suspected to work for The Spot just invaded HQ. He’s trying to destroy our tech and pick us off.”

Just as Miguel had finished his explanation, Rhino crashed through a door four floors below. You both zipped towards him, barely avoiding running into Peter B. as he took a picture of himself, Mayday, and Rhino. Miguel attacked Rhino head-on, performing a spin-kick to the face before webbing his arms together and latching onto his back. Rhino broke his constraints effortlessly, and threw Miguel out of a nearby window. You helped Noir get to his feet and went after Rhino.

By the time you got there, Rhino had Miguel pinned to the cracked concrete. His web shooters were broken, and he was using all of his remaining strength to stop Rhino from snapping his neck. When he saw you approaching, he tried to silently signal for you to go, but you didn’t listen.

“Hey, Alexei!” you shouted. “I never really took you for the dominant type! It doesn’t suit you.”

You swung a piece of concrete at his back and zipped to deliver a punch to the face. Rhino was quick to return the favor, and charged you through a nearby wall. 

Miguel attempted to stand up as backup arrived. He climbed onto Rhino’s back and sunk his teeth into his neck, effectively, though temporarily, paralyzing him. A team of 15 spiderbeings worked to get Rhino back to HQ while you and Jessica helped Miguel to his feet.

“What the hell were you thinking, kid? You could have died,” Miguel snapped.

“You were the one near death,” you argued. “If I didn’t come when I did, you could’ve died. Was I just supposed to let that happen?!”

“Yes!”

“No!” You dropped his arm from around your shoulder and Peter B. went to pick up the slack. “Why is it so hard for you to understand that people care about you? You gave me a chance when no one else would. I lost my world, my home, and my friends. I couldn’t lose you, too.”

“That’s not for you to decide. I can’t trust you like an adult if you refuse to act like one,” he grunted, before wavering in his stance. Jessica helped right him. 

You took a step back and pressed your lips together. “You know, I joined this team because I wanted to save people. I have the ability to save them. And… if you can’t acknowledge that ability, then… maybe you need to reevaluate your interests.” With that, you took off.

Jessica and Peter sat Miguel down to rest. 

“How bad did I fuck up?” Miguel inquired.

“Give them a few minutes to sit on it,” Peter suggested. “Kids are like that. They need time to cool off. Just make sure you talk to them later.”

------

You sat on the slanted glass roof of HQ to listen to music and blow off some steam. Heavy footprints sounded from behind you. You sighed. “If you’re here to argue, can you at least wait until the end of this song?”

“I’m not going to argue with you. I wanted to talk. And… apologize.”

That piqued your interest, but you tried to sound nonchalant as you gestured to the space next to you. “Go ahead, then. Sit.” You turned the music off.

He obliged. “I’m sorry for saying that I couldn’t trust you and that you needed to act like an adult. It wasn’t fair. I do trust you, and there’s no reason for you to act like an adult when you’re still a kid. I’ll be more conscious of my words in the future.”

You nodded. “Thanks.”

You sat in silence for a while, and you began to get up.

“Wait,” he asked. “Please.”

“What did you really come here to say?”

“Just sit, and I’ll tell you.” He waited for you to return to your spot and took a deep breath. “When I was first messing with the multiverse after working at Alchemax, I wasn’t as careful as I am now. I found a world where I was dead, but had a daughter, so I replaced myself and began raising her. I loved her more than anything. But, I was an anomaly, and had disrupted canon events. I felt her glitch right out of my hands. Thousands of innocent people died that day because of me. So, I made a vow to myself: never again. I wouldn’t let this happen to anyone else, and I wouldn’t let anyone get close to me.”

He paused, gulped, and forced himself to make eye contact with you. “Then I met you. And I tried to hate you, I really did. But you’re funny, and you’re smart and passionate, and you have a damn good heart. And everything in me just wants to protect you. I’m so mad at myself for hurting you and-”

You cut him off with a bear hug, to which he slowly responded once he understood what was happening. You shed a few tears into the crook of his neck and mumbled, “I’m sorry, too.”

He laughed, partially in disbelief. “For what?”

“I called you a dick behind your back for the first three months because I thought you had a stick up your ass.” You backed away snickering and wiped your eyes. “But you’re more my family than my parents ever were.”

Now or never, Miguel.

“About that,” he began. “I know you’ve been staying at Gwen’s place - and you’re completely free to stay there if you want - I just thought it might be nice for you to have a permanent place to stay, a school to go to, a familiar face, you know?”

“Not really,” you expressed. “What do you mean?”

“I- it’s better if I just show you.” Miguel took a folder out of his bag and handed it to you. He looked the other way as you processed what he gave you.

“Are these adoption papers?”

“Um… yeah,” he relented, still refusing to look your way. 

“And this isn’t a joke?”

“Of course not. But, it’s also up to you. I don’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do-”

“Yes,” you cut him off and wrapped him in an even tighter hug. “Absolutely yes.”

------

Miguel helped you carry your few boxes of belongings that you had left at Gwen’s into his modern duplex. 

“Jesus, dude,” you commented. “You didn’t tell me you were rich.”

He laughed. “This is what being a scientist earns you.”

“Damn.” You took the space in. The windows in the living room were from floor to ceiling, the couch a cool grey with ornate yellow and green pillows. Everything was open concept, and both the Mexican and Irish flag hung on either side of the TV. Aside from the occasional painting, the apartment was largely monochromatic. 

“The kitchen is under that loft area, which I usually use as office space, but you’re free to use it, too. Bathrooms on first and second floors,” he explained while walking up the stairs. He stopped in front of the third door to the right. “This is your room.”

You gently pushed open the door. Miguel had prepared for your arrival intensely. A twin bed sat in the back left corner of the room, a desk in the back right. There was a wide panel of windows with shades and a nightstand with knick knacks. A mirror, bookshelf, decorative rug, and bean bag filled the empty space. A poster with a Spiderman symbol hung over your desk, and a smile fought its way onto your face. 

“There’s a closet, too,” Miguel said proudly.

You opened the closet to find it fully stocked with casual, formal, and tactical clothing. “You did all of this for me?”

He smiled warmly. “Welcome home.”

------

It was the following year on Father’s Day, and you were waiting for Miguel to come home when you heard keys turning at the door. 

“Hey,” you called from the kitchen island. “I made dinner for us. And we can watch that crappy comedy show that you like.”

He hung up his jacket and gave you a hug. “Thanks, sweetheart. How was it with your friends?”

“Pretty good. But it took an hour to get Miles out of that Famous Footwear. I swear that boy has enough sneakers to cover the Mediterranean. How was work?”

Miguel grabbed a plate and took a seat next to you. “Well, we finally figured out the malfunction in the control room. Hobie had been messing around with it for his own projects. Shocker, right? But other than that it was just a bunch of boring meetings.”

“Oh, I just remembered something.” You rushed upstairs to get a gift bag from your room and returned, out of breath. “I made this for you. It’s not much, but my job doesn’t start until July and I wanted to give you something, so…”

He removed the tissue paper to find a carefully knitted shawl with his suit designs on it. He remained speechless for a moment. 

“What do you think?”

“I love it.”

“Really? Cuz I could get you something else if you’d prefer-”

“I love it,” he repeated, giving you a bear hug. “I’ll wear it all the time when the weather takes a turn.”

“I thought it might be useful for winter patrols,” you admitted. 

“It will be. I know you don’t like getting too sappy, so let’s watch some TV, yeah?”

Halfway through an episode of the comedy show, you got up to use the bathroom. Miguel paused the show and admired your work on his shawl. When you came back, he was still staring at it as if he were examining each individual stitch. 

“I’m back,” you said when he didn’t acknowledge you. 

He hummed in response. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

You furrowed your brows, worried now. “Is something wrong?”

“No, not all, it’s just…” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I wanted to let you know that I would understand if you want to look into seeing if there’s any way to find your real parents. I love you and I want you here, don’t get me wrong, but if this is something you feel strongly about, I wanted to make sure you knew that my feelings wouldn’t be hurt.”

You stared at him for a while before bursting into laughter. 

“What’s so funny?”

You grabbed his hands and looked him in his eyes. “I found my real dad the moment you brought me here. I’m home.”

He squeezed your hands and repeated your words as if convincing himself of the truth. “You’re home.”

------

[moonyswritinq]

losing you — obi-wan kenobi x gn reader

❝ LOSING YOU ❞

SYNOPSIS➢You could never resist saying no to Obi-Wan Kenobi when he needed your help. It led to a capture by the Sith, and a near death. A daring escape, a battle of hearts and good and evil, and a climax of feelings could hopefully reveal the truth within your hearts.

PAIRING ➢ obi-wan kenobi x gender neutral reader

AU ➢ friends/rivals to lovers

CONTENT WARNING ➢ swearing, sexual tension, angst, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, depictions of fighting, battling, canon-typical violence, side character deaths, sort of protective Obi-Wan

WORD COUNT ➢ 4.5 k

AUTHORS NOTE ➢ i started writing this so long ago, and am now so sick of it that i hate it with my entire being. i missed posting anything for May the Fourth, so consider this my meagre contribution. hope you still enjoy!

MASTERLIST

The thousands of voices that filled your ears and the sharp glare from the sun against your closed eyelids were the first things you noticed. Slowly, you opened your eyes and took in your surroundings. You were in the middle of an arena with hundreds of foul creatures in the stands, cheering and throwing taunts when they noticed you were awake.

You tried to look further, but as soon as you moved your head a sudden sharp pain shot through it, making you wince. You didn’t remember getting a blow to the head, which meant it was probably a pretty bad one. As you stood tied to the pole with chains against your wrists, you watched a few guards drag a figure between them. They tied it to the pole next to you, and left it slumped against the ground. 

That’s when you remembered.

The fight. A lightsaber. Obi-Wan fucking Kenobi.

You two had been ambushed by the very targets he’d been hunting, and you only got caught up in the crossfire because he had asked for your help. He hadn’t needed you, and you didn’t have to accept, but something compelled you to and now you were stuck in this mess. If only you were smart enough to be able to walk away. 

Unfortunately, Obi-Wan was your weakness.

You watched his unconscious figure lean against the poll, and you couldn't help but let your eyes trail over him. They jumped from the way his strong hands hung in the handcuffs (something you definitely had thought of before, just in a different situation) to the way the sun hit his smooth skin and highlighted his cheekbones. You watched his muscular chest rise and fall steadily with every breath, and how his golden hair seemed to shine even brighter. You even let your gaze travel even more south, but it quickly jumped up again from the guilt.

You blinked and redirected your gaze before his force, or magic—something—somehow notice your staring, but it was already too late. Obi-Wan grimaced as he opened his eyes, licking his lips and clearing his throat. The dry desert air did nothing but evil to your lungs.

Finally, he looked over at you and said, “I know I’m handsome, darling, but there may be a time and place for that.”

Your eyes immediately moved to his and you found him smirking smugly at you, which you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at.

“Oh, please, you wish I was admiring you, Kenobi. I was just wondering how the hell I should get back at you.” Every word from your tongue was drenched with faux venom.

Obi-Wan lifted an eyebrow. “Oh, really? And what might I have done to upset you this time?”

You laughed humourlessly at his words, gesturing around the both of you. “Is your skull really that thick? I’m stuck here because of you.”

He looked at you sceptically. “Me? Weren’t you supposed to be the look out and keep an eye on my back?”

“No, well—yes, but it wasn’t my fault.” If you had to be honest, you had been distracted by him. Obi-Wan had sat and talked with you, always being his charming self. So, really, it was his fault you hadn’t noticed the ambush. “You dragged me into this in the first place.”

He shook his head with a smile and tried to stand up straighter. “If I remember correctly—“

“You probably don’t, you took a pretty ugly blow to the head,” you interrupted. He fixed you with a pointed look, but it only made you more amused.

“—you weren’t forced to come with. You wanted to be with me.”

You grimaced at his choice of words, but were determined not to let him in on your feelings.

“And if I remember correctly, you begged me. So technically, you wanted to be with me.”

His smile told you he was enjoying this just as much as you were, and had no plans on stopping. “Oh, you know me so well, darling. I always want to be with you.”

“Exactly what I wanted to hear,” you smirked.

Even though you loved the words coming from his mouth, they were filled with the same sarcastic venom as yours. If you had to be honest with yourself, it hurt. You tried to ignore the feeling when your eyes moved to a movement in the further end of the arena. Two convoys were starting to move towards you and Obi-Wan, with two people inside of them. Obi-Wan straightened when they were within earshot.

“I was beginning to wonder if you’d got my message,” he said.

A younger man and woman was being led out by guards and you could see the boy was also a Jedi, but one in training, from the robes he wore to the braid in his hair.

“I retransmitted it,” he said, “just as you requested, Master.” The couple were being tied to a pole each, the same way you were tied. “Then we decided to come rescue you.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes as the corners of his lips tugged into half a smile. “Good job.”

You almost laughed at his sarcasm and managed to let out a snort instead. That was the first time the man seemed to have noticed you. His eyes studied you from top to bottom and then turned to Obi-Wan.

“Who is this you are with, Master?” he questioned.

Obi-Wan glanced at you, sending you a quiet question. Who were you to him?

“They—“ he began.

You interrupted him before he could finish. You were dreading to hear the words ‘they’re just my friend’, even though you knew you could never be anything more.

“I’m his amazing partner,” you smiled. “The one who always gets him out of these messes.”

The man raised an eyebrow and glanced at his Master. “Really?” he asked.

Obi-Wan threw you a pointed look. “No, I’m the one who always gets you out of messes, not the other way around,” he said. “If you had just done your job and kept a lookout we wouldn’t be here.”

You feigned offence at his remark. “Excuse you, you were the one distracting me, which means it was really all your fault,” you said.

“So you do admit I am a distraction to you, darling?” Obi-Wan smiled smugly. 

You choked on your words and felt your cheeks burn. You knew he was unaware of your feelings, but that only made it hurt more. Maybe entertaining this sort of flirty banter wasn’t a good idea. It only made your hopes for something more to happen multiply. And that wasn’t fair—to either of you.

“No,” you bit out before you looked away from him entirely. He frowned, but turned away to converse with the other Jedi as you tuned them out.

—

Obi-Wan Kenobi was confused.

He had asked for your help on his mission because he knew you were in a nearby town, and because you knew how to handle your blasters. Really well. He had always admired that about you, even though he considered them a bit uncivilised, and he would never admit it. Instead Obi-Wan always decided to send a snide remark or comment your way, even when you were shooting perfectly.

“Maybe you should try hitting the target one day, y/l/n,” he shouted the one time you had missed your practice target.

What he didn’t know was that you had missed because you had been staring at his training with his lightsaber. You couldn’t help it; because, come on, Obi-Wan doing sword practices? He looked hot as fuck. It had made you glare daggers at him and you’d thrown the blaster his way.

“Why don’t you try it then? See if you’re so much better, Master Kenobi,” you challenged.

His smile only widened as he studied your approaching, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’d rather not, darling,” he said. “You know I have no luck with those things.” You picked up the blaster and pressed it against his chest, leaning in closer to him.

“Oh, come on, Obi-Wan,” you purred. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid.”

His mind went blank at your words. You were so close to him now, he would only need to lean down a bit and your lips would be touching. Oh, how he wished to feel your lips on his. He shook the thought away and smiled at you.

“Yes, I am very afraid that you might be better than me at something.”

You moved away and chuckled, taking up your shooting position again. “I’m better than you at a lot of things.”

Obi-Wan quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? Care to enlighten me?”

“I can think of a few things,” you had winked at him.

The insinuation was enough for Obi-Wan’s cheeks to redden, but he turned away and left the subject at that. That was how you two always were. A few insults thrown in here and there, and even though he cared not to admit it, there were some flirty elements as well.

And that was why he was confused as to your sudden cold exterior. He replayed the conversation in his mind, trying to figure out why it had gone south. Did he say something wrong? Had he done something wrong?

He was brought out of his thoughts by the voice of Anakin.

“Master?” he asked, and Obi-Wan only blinked at him.

“Yes, Anakin?”

He sighed and shook his head. “That was the third time I tried to get your attention. What is going on?” He glanced at you on the other side of his master, at you, and lowered his voice. “Is it your partner? Who are they, really?”

“It’s nothing, Anakin,” Obi-Wan replied. Anakin seemed to ponder his words for a moment, and Obi-Wan was completely content on letting the conversation go.

Anakin frowned. “Why haven’t I heard about them until now?”

Obi-Wan quirked an eyebrow. “There are many things you do not know about me, Anakin. I like to keep some things private.”

“I understand,” came his voice, a bit too smug for Obi-Wan’s liking.

Obi-Wan turned to him. “What exactly do you ‘understand’?”

Anakin inclined his head to where you were standing. “I just want to let you know that it’s okay, Master.”

“Anakin, I have no idea what you are talking of.”

He rolled his eyes, leaning as close to Obi-Wan as he could. “I’m talking about the two of you,” he said.

Obi-Wan’s cheeks immediately burned. “y/n y/l/n is an old friend,” Obi-Wan whisper-shouted. “We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

“Come on, Master, I heard the way you were talking to each other. Frankly, it’s quite obvious.”

Obi-Wan glared at Anakin for him to shut up. He glanced at you beside him, trying to keep the younger Jedi’s words from sinking into him, but to no avail. He was aware of the insinuations that often existed in your conversations, and the way your words were too often far from strictly platonic. He knew you were good looking in the standard way, as he often saw heads turn in your direction and flirty smiles sent your way, though he had never allowed himself to think of you that way. It was dangerous territory for a Jedi and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to resist if he allowed himself to give in.

But now, when the both of you stood at your death row, almost out of options, it put things in perspective. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he—

A sudden cheer went up in the stadium, bringing his attention away from you. A voice sounded, in a strange language he couldn’t understand, and four doorways opened at the end of the arena. Out walked four creatures, each one horrific in its own way, and led by guards with spears. They were careful to not walk too close.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Anakin said beside him. Obi-Wan hated to admit he agreed, but forced himself to think rationally.

“Just relax. Concentrate.” He directed the words to his padawan, but they were for himself as much as for Anakin.

“What about Padme?” he asked, drawing Obi-Wan’s attention away from the oncoming monsters. He glanced behind Anakin, seeing that she was using her chain to climb the pillar.

With a smile he said, “She seems to be on top of things.”

Anakin glanced behind him, nodding, and forced calming breaths to release through his lungs. Obi-Wan looked your way, afraid he’d worry for you. Instead, you stood still, almost like a statue, looking directly in front of you. Your gaze was calculating, deadly calm, like a soldier’s calm, and your breathing was even. He didn’t know how, but you seemed to not worry even one bit at the oncoming creature.

He didn’t have time to think over it more when a creature with long claws closed in on him, throwing a leg against his chains, severing it. Obi-Wan threw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack. Shouts and cheers went all around him, making him more dizzy than he already was. He tried to focus on the creature as he kept tumbling out the way, every time closer than the first. He went behind the pillar to take cover, but the monster felled it, causing it to tumble down in a load crash towards him.

Before he could understand what was happening, Obi-Wan was tumbling against the ground, rolling in a heap. The only thing was that your weight was on top of him, holding him down. He was too aware of every place you touched, shivering even through the chaos that was going on around you. You quickly glanced down at him before jumping to your feet, extending an arm for him to drag himself to his own feet. You kept ahold of his hand, tugging him along as you ran out of the creature’s path. Obi-Wan was afraid to think of what would’ve happened without you there.

He looked to the side, seeing one of the guards with a spear, taking it to throw at the monster behind you. For a second, he thought it’d worked. But then, it snapped the spear in half and continued its chase for the both of you. Thankfully, right then, Anakin and Padme appeared atop one of the other creatures, a massive horn at its front. He gestured for the both of you to get on, and without thinking, Obi-Wan grabbed your hand again and pulled you with. He helped you up in front of him. He hesitated, just a moment, before letting his arms snake around your midriff. You felt it, tensing against the feeling of him. You realised this was the wrong moment to be shy about contact, but you also realised the meaning of letting him fall against you so.

Obi-Wan let his head lean against your shoulder, ignoring the warning shouts put there by the Jedi’s so-called ways. He was tired of keeping distance from you only because of formalities. Seeing you in danger as he had done earlier, it scared him more than he dared admit. He needed to make the most out of the time you had left together.

“I—“ he began, but was interrupted by the tumbling of droids appearing, pointing their guns at the four of you.

You turned to look him in the eye, searching for any signs of reassurance there. You found none. Obi-Wan did not have a second plan, something to get them out of this major mess. He was finally out of ideas. Your lips tugged downwards at the sight of his hopeless gaze. You understood as well as he did how fucked you were.

And that’s when it happened; when dozens of lightsabers appeared in the crowding stands; they were lit in varying colours of blue, green, and, one particular, in purple. Their light reflected onto their bearers, revealing countless Jedis ready to fight. The rest of the crowd began to flee, previously cheering for the slaughter of the four of you, now cowards to the fight that would inevitable ensue.

A smile lit up your face, gazing onto the new turn of events. Maybe it wasn’t over for the two of you.

It quickly faded when more droids appeared, running over the arena to get a good shot on you. The Jedis were just as quick, jumping from the stadiums to meet the blasters with their sabers. Obi-Wan grabbed a nearby lightsaber and freed first himself, and then you, from the chains. You ran to pick up two blasters, lying nearby a fallen droid. You didn’t have time to think about the others before fire was upon you and it was all you could do to fire off shot after shot, fell enemy after enemy as your aim found its marks. Obi-Wan was soon beside you, twirling his lightsaber in beautiful circles and cutting down every droid in his vicinity. If you weren’t in mortal danger, you’d say he was enjoying himself with the way his lips formed in the faintest smile.

It was difficult keeping track of everyone and everything when all your surroundings were filled with was the light of blasters going for their mark and the glowing of lightsabers cutting into metal. Your ears were ringing, shouts and blasting muffled by the concentration of keeping your head connected to your body. All you could focus on was the next droid to appear in your path. One at a time, to keep you from losing hope and getting overwhelmed. But even you could admit that it was seeming bleak. The numbers on your side were dwindling and you felt a faint thudding in your left arm, which you had conveniently managed to ignore until now.

A sudden shriek called for your attention when the creature from before was charging for you again. You could feel your muscles locking up, the fear setting into them, while your mind was screaming for you to run. Instead, you stood there with a gaping mouth, awaiting the blow that would inevitable come upon you.

Before it did, a lightsaber cut into the creature’s path and sent its head rolling to the dirty ground, its body dropping in a lifeless heap. You turned, seeing Obi-Wan with his lightsaber raised, panting hard. His gaze turned to you with widened eyes. His legs moved before you did and managed to catch you before you fell to the ground, your legs folding beneath you. The paralysing fear was gone and in its place had an overwhelming sense of dread settled, causing your body to finally catch up with your mind. You almost wept against his robes, holding onto his shoulders to steady yourself. Obi-Wan’s arms circled you, his eyes searching you for any fatal injuries. When he couldn’t find any, he allowed his hand to smooth against your cheek, tilting your head to look at him.

“You okay?” he asked.

You nodded absentmindedly. First now you realised the closeness of him, and how vulnerable you both were in the middle of the battlefield. You turned at the same time, ready to cut down any droids, but it turned out unnecessary as the remaining Jedis had formed a protective circle around all of you, their lightsabers raised against the onslaught of droids. They stopped in their tracks as Count Dooku’s voice rang out, loud and clear, calling for a cease of fire. He was telling you how the fight was over; you were outnumbered; to lay down your weapons in arms; you were practically dead.

The Jedis looked around, uncertain on whether it was possible to win this fight. You met the droids with a steeled gaze; you’d rather die here, on the battlefield, than in some dungeon of the Sith’s. Obi-Wan looked to you and you saw the same determination reflected in his eyes. You wished to rather not die at all, but it was the lesser of two evils.

As if by reading your thoughts, suddenly battleships descended to the arena — stormtrooper ships. You let out a breath of relief; however ready you were to go down in battle someday you were glad today wouldn’t be that day.

With the help of the stormtroopers, your numbers were suddenly in the majority, felling the droids quickly and swiftly. The fight was far from over, though. Obi-Wan nudged your arm, nodding to one of the ships. You ran after him, with Anakin and Padme in the lead, onto the hovering ship and it lifted in the air. You looked around to see other stormtroopers on the ship, with only God knows what thoughts swimming behind those helmets of theirs.

“Dooku is making his escape,” said Obi-Wan, pointing ahead of him. You looked to see two slender ships  and a speeder-bike flying at full speed.

One of the troopers nodded, and the ship picked up in speed. Your feet stumbled at the change, unprepared for the sudden jolt in the metal beneath you. Obi-Wan’s arm instinctively reached out and snaked around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“Hold on,” he said.

You ignored the warmth of both his body so close to you and the sudden rush of it in your cheeks. Miles of sandbanks stretched beneath you, only fleeting with the quick speed you were travelling. Ahead, you noticed that there was only one spacecraft left in your pursuit. Hopefully, you’d be able to get this mission done with and go back to your not-so-peaceful abode; all of this were definitely more than you’d originally bargained for.

With another jolt of your ship, it threw all of you off-balance and a shriek sounded. You turned to see Padme fall out of the open door. Anakin reached for her but Obi-Wan was there within a second to snatch away his wrist, pulling him from the opening.

“Put the ship down!” Anakin cried.

“Anakin, don’t let your personal feelings get in the way!” Obi-Wan shouted back, effectively ignoring your gaze. He turned to the front and called, “Follow that speeder!”

You turned Obi-Wan’s words over in your mind. Of course he wouldn’t stray from the Jedi way, not even for you. Had you then only imagined his lingering gaze and touches that existed a moment too long? Had your mind created the delusions of Kenobi’s want to protect you during the fight, or had he only happened to be nearby to help you?

Whatever the matter, you felt it smartest to not be present for the coming fight. You called out to the two Jedis.

“I’ll go after her, you handle Dooku.”

Obi-Wan turned. “No, wait— y/n!”

Before he could take hold of you, you had dropped out the opening with bent knees meeting the sandbank, landing with a compact you were not ready for. You rolled, tucking your head into your chest and quickly jumped to your feet. You had jumped out of the ship a little later than Padme and had to walk back the distance to find her again.

She laid on the sand, outstretched, with her head resting to the side. You ran to her quickly, letting her head rest under your hand and shaking her slightly in a careful attempt to wake her up. Her eyelids slid open carefully, before blinking wide up at you. Her limbs hurried with panic in an attempt to stand up and she almost tripped herself.

“Hey, hey, calm down!” you said, disentangling yourself from her. “You’re okay, you’re safe.”

She stopped struggling but stayed wide-eyed as she let herself take a few calming breaths. Eventually she had found her voice enough to ask, “Where’s Anakin?”

“Still pursuing Dooku. C’mon, we gotta get back to camp.”

Padme’s head shook before you finished your sentence, looking around. “No, no, we gotta follow them. We gotta help.”

You swallowed, nodding absentmindedly. You wanted to help Obi-Wan but you were afraid how he would react to seeing you after the fighting was done. Would he turn you away, and ultimately let the Jedi’s ways steer his life? Or would he allow you to get close to him, invite you into his life as something more than just a friend?

You pondered these questions as you managed to find a troop of stormtroopers and commandered a spacecraft to follow the pursuit of Count Dooku. Soon enough, a castle of some sort, made of a reddened stone with high spires, reached towards the muddied sky. Your craft landed and as a ship departed, speeding faster than you could react, towards outer space.

If that were Count Dooku escaping then that meant Anakin and Obi-Wan hadn’t managed to stop him. And that meant…

Your legs started to move faster than your mind could catch up, praying that what you feared wouldn’t be true. Your feet echoed against the ground as you ran into the cave, Padme following right behind you. When you entered the hollow room your eyes immediately landed on Obi-Wan’s form.

He was alive—barely standing and taking shallow breaths—but alive nonetheless.

His hand was grasped around his knee, barely being able to keep himself up. It looked as if it took everything in him not to slump to the floor. You hastened your steps in his direction, ready to just about sling yourself against him. You catched yourself in a moment, remembering the Jedi’s modest ways.

His eyes met yours as he let his hand let go of the lightsaber. His eyes softened, almost unintelligibly, and his lips quirked into a tired smile. Obi-Wan took the barest step toward you, his leg folding beneath him. You were there in an instant, letting your weight support his as much as his was supporting you. Your arms snaked around his waist, letting your head fall in the crook of his shoulder. His head laid on yours, his hair tickling your skin. As tired, and muddy, and miserable you were you couldn’t keep from the warmth spreading in the pit of your stomach.

Obi-Wan didn’t seem to mind any of the other Jedi’s in the room as he let his embrace pull you even closer to him. He pulled back the barest inch to whisper against your ear, “Don’t you ever dare scare me like that again.”

“What, when I dropped out of the spacecraft, you mean?”

You felt him shake his head against you. “Just today in general.”

“Afraid to lose me, Jedi?”

You tried not to chuckle, but it was difficult when you felt the dangers of the day receding from your mind and all that was left was an immense relief that elated your entire body. Obi-Wan pulled away entirely, letting his hands grip your shoulders for support. Your hands had a hold of his waist.

“Losing you would affect me more than you could ever imagine.”

You grinned as you tugged him into a hug again, pressing him even more intimately against you. There was no longer any doubt as to what Obi-Wan meant to you, and as to what you meant to him. He didn’t care what the council or the Jedis thought; he’d have you as yours. And you smiled at the thought.

© 2023 all rights reserved to ❝ moonyswritinq ❞. do not plagiarize, steal, repost w/o credit for your own gain.

[dxy-drxxm]

SYNOPSIS: Lyney never feared the sight of the tank, but his "Father" changed that for him. (gen. neutral reader) [ IDENTITYV AU ]

CW/s: Drowning (or almost drowning), ooc Lyney? (he's shaken up oops), depiction of Knave! Lyney/Harbinger! Lyney, near death scenario, reader gets hurt in helping survivor! Lyney (part 2 of 3)

The familiar thumping of one's heart was something Lyney is quite used to. To him, as a magician, he would only have those when performing tricks that are impossible— only for them to work as the audience began to shower him with praise.

As an illusionist, he knew well that miracles are akin to magic tricks. That is what he was raised to believe, but outside of his job, there are things far more cruel than he may say.

So when he felt himself getting dunked into the tank his sister used in one of their shows, he felt the air leave him as he was put inside.

He banged on the glass as he saw his Father? leave, the illusion fading into a sight he can discern. He thought it was her?, but the familiar coat and attire betrayed his expectation.

It was… Himself?

… As the Knave.

He felt his eyes widened. Was this suppose to be him?

If Father gets replaced or dies, will he become like this?

The hunter turned his head to see the stunned illusionist, water pouring down to fill up the tank. And for a sheer glance alone, he could see him mouth the following words that shocked his core.

And then, he left.

His siblings are far from where he was chaired. And Heaven forbid will he let them rescue him like this.

The water is filling up to his knees.

Was this the end? He couldn't tell anymore.

After all, he knew he can turn the fates in his favor. He knew that, he was a magician! And by God will he just stop because he's stuck in a water tank!

As he felt his legs grow damp, he began to do anything in his power to get out. He tried to push the lid, perhaps use his own tricks to disappear from the tank.

He wanted to get out of this blasted tank. He was growing desperate.

At times like these, he wished he had his vision on his person.

But alas, no such luck.

His efforts rendered futile, and his desperation gnawed at him alive.

...

It's rising to his waist.

...

He wanted to crumble.

He couldn't hear the faint calling of a familiar voice— and a yelp from the hit by the grim-malkin cat. The one he had from his tricks.

He can vaguely recall how some of his tricks failed. How he and Lynette endured to get a sliver of fame, to even get a chance to perform.

This was one of those times.

He knew this moment awfully well. And the familiar despair began to get to his head.

...

It's rising to his chest.

...

Was this it? Is this the end of the road?

It can't be. I can't die here. I can't.

I can't stop here— why can't I do something? Why is there no exits here?

I can't simply drown in this tank and disappear. I don't want to disappear!

No, no, no—

Please, I need to see my sister again. I need to see my siblings again.

I refuse to sit here, and yet...

... I don't know what to do.

Can I even escape from this glass prison?

Can I escape the same prison I've been destined to be trapped in?

...

Then, it rises to his neck.

…

...

…

The seal of the tank opens.

Two hands grabs him, and with one full swoop, the playwright pulls the illusionist out as a way to rescue him.

Lyney was stunned when he felt the water leave him, and albeit he is dripping, he could smell the scent of parchment and ashes.

(Name).

"Are you okay, Lyney?" he heard them asked, watching as the tank closes but the water level remains the same. "Here," they added, handing him a syringe that they retrieved from the chests.

Am I okay?

"Come on, let's go—"

They yelped and went down as the hunter— himself— loomed over them, sighing.

"Oh, my dear poupée, you should've learned not to turn your back on a hunter!" his hunter identity said, but the playwright turned to wince and glare at him.

"Hah— and you should learn not to be so cocky."

Then, the sirens blared. And detention got ahold of the Knave.

With adrenaline, they shoved the now coherent illusionist.

"Run!" you yelled, grabbing his wrist and pulling him with them out of the big tent. "Detention will last in 2 minutes— and we'll both die if we get caught by him!"

And as soon as the two of you fled, the survivors could hear the ever familiar yet chilling laugh as the Knave is in pursuit of his showstopper.

No man will be left alive.

Not on his watch.

@.enxgmx-wrxtxr | do not republish, repost, or copy my works anywhere | 2023

[prideofcelestia]

❝ reincarnation ❞

notes -> this is my piece for leviathan's birthday collaboration 2023. the prompt is 'reincarnation'

i had a lot of fun with this collab. everyone worked really hard and it was a beautiful feeling to work with people who love the game and levi. thank you everyone for the support and effort you put!

happy birthday, levi!!! thank you for being my beacon of hope during bleak times. you are such an amazing otaku. you give me courage to love the things i do ♡

contains tw -> angst, mentions of war, mentions of death, angst with a happy, hopeful ending.

leviathan x gender neutral reader

Levi jumped, a magazine lying at his feet.

“Ivel-chan was reincarnated as a slime in this life and she will have her revenge!”

He remembered crying buckets last week when they had killed her off. So what if she was a side character? In his heart, she was brighter than the protagonist who only gave fan service these days. At least Ivel-chan had character!

The door to his room flung over. Lucifer peeked inside, his eyes glimmering with sadistic enthusiasm. The twins, who were only toddlers, rested in baby clasps, one on his back, one in the front.

“Levi, dinner has been ready for ten minutes now. Do you want to come to the table or be fed right here?”

“Eep! I-I am coming.”

༺☆༻

“Mammon, don’t play with your food. Asmo, put the mirror down. Satan, don’t glare at your food,” Lucifer chided before feeding a happy Beel.

“Levi, remember that you have to show [Name] around the neighbourhood.”

Levi groaned because he liked staying indoors, “Why do I have to do it?”

“Because their family just shifted in yesterday and [Name] is the same age as you. So as good," Lucifer put emphasis, making Levi shudder, "neighbours, we must do our duty.”

༺☆༻

Seeing you for the first time made Levi feel butterflies in his stomach. You seemed someone out of his memory but that somehow made you feel more real than ever. Every word of protest he had been repeating to himself till then disappeared.

He has had crushes before, both reel and real but it felt different this time. It was as if he knew you from somewhere, and not in a I-have-seen-you-before kind of way but in a I-know-you-well kind of way. It made him feel uncomfortable. He felt violated, as if you could see right through him. He might not be too difficult to read, given that he was nothing more than a yucky otaku but he still had some secrets he wanted to keep safe and your vibe was completely off.

“Do I know you?” you asked, feeling a knot in your stomach that you could not justify.

The idea of letting a stranger show you around a new neighbourhood made you anxious, but the feeling that dominated you right now was curiosity, and surprisingly, interest.

༺☆༻

Levi wasn't that bad. He actually did a good job showing you the places that mattered. The arcade, the stores where the best instant ramen was to be found, the aquarium, and… an anime cafe, too. The last one quite surprised you.

You started hanging out together, mostly because you had become acquainted with him a little, and he seemed fun. He held the same opinion about you and made plans together, although all of it was in his room, playing games.

It felt as if you had lived those exact moments several times with him. Every time he leaned against you during an intense gaming session and apologised, or when he offered you new ramen flavours to try, you would be hit with a memory from a time unknown.

Even though your mind was foggy, you knew that the places you pictured him in were more beautiful than your memory could produce. To add colour to mystery, he was in some sort of an angel cosplay. It all felt really bizarre but it made you think about him more than should be considered healthy.

In his turn, Levi felt guilty that he just couldn't get you out of his mind. He was supposed to be a good friend to you. Wasn't it betraying you if he was, what he believed it to be, falling in love with you?!

༺☆༻

The dreams followed soon. You could neither understand the significance nor discuss it with someone to come to a conclusion.

Those felt disconnected and unreal and you kept mixing the details in your head, not to mention the haunted look Levi had the day after you got one of the dreams.

One day, you decided to take him into your confidence. Slowly but firmly.

You said casually, “Levi, why do you look so tired today?”

He blinked and looked frightened, “Huuuu-? Me?? We-Well, there's something on my m-m-mind. I didn't know how to t-tell you this. I've been having strange dreams these days. I got one last night.”

You stopped in your tracks abruptly to turn towards him. He felt hot under your intense gaze.

“Wh-Why are you looking at m-m-me like that?”

“It’s just,” you began, extremely calm and intrigued, “I have been having dreams that I can’t explain for a while too. Maybe we should talk.”

༺☆༻

“Is this the place?” you called out to Levi after reaching the top of the hill.

The poor guy had been running to keep up with you. Presently, he sat down to rest. Once he could breathe well, he looked around.

There were a few trees scattered around. Wild grass and dandelions had spread there for a good while, lending a weathered yellow look to the place.

It was hauntingly beautiful in your eyes.

“Y-Yeah, this is the place I saw in my dr-dreams. I have been too afraid to come here alone,” Levi said, almost breathless.

The place seemed to talk to him too.

You explored the place while Levi was content with glancing around from his spot.

A sense of nostalgia washed over you. When you glanced back at him, you knew that he felt the same.

On walking around, you came across a small pond that seemed to draw you in.

That's when you saw something shining between the rocks.

After nudging the rocks aside, you found a locket there. It must have been a pretty colour once but now it was rusted and impossible to open.

You didn't know why you hid it so quickly when you heard Levi calling out for you.

Maybe you needed time to think and figure it out yourself first.

༺☆༻

You couldn't put the matter aside for later. The object seemed to call out to you so you put the controller down and turned towards Levi.

“Listen, I picked something up from that place.”

You pulled the locket out and showed it to your friend.

His eyes grew as large as saucepans, “Wh-What do you mean you just randomly picked it up? It could be bad, REALLY b-bad! We still don’t know what those dreams mean!”

You sighed and motioned it towards him, “But isn’t this better than to just speculate?”

He croaked, “The dreams make me uncomfortable… the place… I feel like I have been there before.”

You inched closer to him.

“I understand. Don't worry, I am here with you.”

He stared at you before his lips finally curved up in a smile. “Thank you. You are my true friend, my best friend even!”

Then he shrugged his shoulders, “I guess this is what a protagonist would do. Who am I to stop you? Let's see if it does anything.”

When he touched the locket in your hand, everything around grew dark.

༺☆༻

You were transported to a place beautiful beyond expectations. A strong, shaky hand wrapped around your shoulder, surprising you. A quick glance revealed that it was Levi. He was wearing pure white robes and there was a halo floating on his head. You wanted to laugh and tease him but you couldn’t move.

“I love you, [Name],” he said. The pain in his voice and the fire in his eyes took you aback. “I-I promise that I will pr-protect you in the war.”

What war?

Your mouth seemed to have a mind of its own. Your hand intertwined with his and you found yourself smiling while your veins coursed with fear. “I love you too, Levi. I will not let any harm come to you. Forever, remember?”

“Yes, fo-forever,” he spoke shyly but there was a smile on his face.

༺☆༻

The scene shifted. You were in armed combat with an extremely angry looking woman.

Damn! She was skilled. Every time she swung her spear, you thought that you were about to die, but your body moved meticulously to avoid the attacks.

“[Name], are you fine?” Levi screamed from somewhere.

The female angel raised her eyebrows and showed you a nasty smile before pointing her spear in the direction of Levi’s voice. Your eyes widened as you turned around only to find him busy commanding his army.

He would notice the spear too late! You launched yourself in front of him just before the fatal blow.

“[Name]!”

The poison flowed through your body with vigour, making you fall in and out of consciousness. Levi caught you just as you were about to give up.

With his features contorted with rage, he turned towards the female angel. She smiled triumphantly.

"SOLDIERS!" Levi bellowed. "Attack her!"

The woman got her spear ready and took charge while Levi's army flew past Levi at top speed.

The legion of angels he had been fighting looked on with hope.

The leader of the opposition commanded in a muffled tone, “Attack [Name] together while Leviathan is distracted. That way he will lose his intention to fight.”

Someone put a dagger through Levi's back but despite not understanding the source of the pain, he shielded you with his body. He prioritised you over his own life.

"Soldiers! Protect [Name]!"

It was too late. His eyes felt heavy owing to the poison in the dagger. He couldn't even see where his sworn angels were for the last time or who had been his nemesis in the end.

You both fell together. If you couldn't be alive together, then you two would be together in death.

༺☆༻

“I wish we had a normal life together. Then, we wouldn’t have had to live like outcasts,” Levi whispered when he saw you struggling to keep your eyes open. “As long as I had a chance to live with you, I was happy being an outcast. It seems that our time is up now.”

Levi cried, not because of his condition, but to see life draining from your eyes slowly. “I-I am the happiest angel that’s about to die, [Name]. I am sorry I couldn’t protect you in this life.”

A tear ran down your cheek, “I am sorry too for breaking my promise. I couldn't be with you forever. I couldn't protect you in the end either… I hope we meet again, Levi. I will love you in every lifetime.”

Your hands were intertwined, a locket in your grasp. A locket that enclosed your happiest memory together.

༺☆༻

The flashback ended and you both came back to your senses.

“Ouch!” you yelled and tried to pull your hand back. Levi had it in a tight grasp.

On seeing the fear etched on his face, you got quiet and took a deep breath. It had all felt so surreal.

“What just happened?” you murmured, the full burden of the flashback just setting in.

He looked at your entwined hands and noticed the absence of the locket. He felt a pang in his heart. He only knew that it had been important once but he didn't understand how. Surely it was no merch so why did he care so much?!

“I th-think it was the locket," he blurted out. "When we bo-both touched it, we finally saw the… the entire dream.”

A thoughtful silence filled the room.

You whispered, “I don’t think it was a dream.”

You squeezed his hand gently before looking at him with bated breath.

His lower lip quivered, “I don’t think it was a dream either.”

He turned his gaze towards you. His grip tightened, “D-Did I ever tell you that I am glad we met? I'm happy that you're not a dream. I want to keep knowing you, to make more memories with you. Will you let me?”

༺☆༻

Two people, seated in a small room, forgot the game they had been playing and instead glanced at each other at the moment. Their eyes held tenderness and the advent of new love.

The vast world danced with endless possibilities for their future. No moment was wasted as they decided their own future, unsullied by their past but still keeping their spirit alive.

It was a life they wanted and that was good enough.

[yanderes-galore]

Hey girl same anon from earlier. I wanted to come back and ask if we could get some tmnt? Like a basic 2012 raph with prompts 11 + 16 ? Btw I'm so sorry, I forgot to say wb! And I done scrolled through your blog looking for the prompts but of course they were in the pinned post 🤦‍♀️

I put essentially everything in the pinned post, LOL. Anyways, tysm for the Welcome Back! Makes me happy :). Sure, I'll see what I can do with these! Sorry you had to scroll so much ^^;

More sadistic Raphael time. Aged up as usual.

Yandere! Raphael (2012) Prompts 11 + 16

Pairing: Romantic

"I'd crush their heart in front of you if it meant you'd only love me!"

"Do as I say or I may just have to press this weapon closer to your back...."

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Threats, Possessive behavior, Isolation, Extremely toxic behavior, Jealousy, Manipulation, Forced relationship, Threats of injury/death, Slight sadism, Trust issues.

"Do you even know how much you hurt me when you talk to them!?"

You say nothing, letting the aggressive mutant rant. It didn't sound too smart to butt in anyways. Not when he's one of the most violent of his brothers.

"They're just a friend, Raph. I get along with them like you do your brothers."

You're trying to be reasonable, but it doesn't seem Raphael wants to listen to reason. He glares at you with venomous green eyes. His gaze scares you.

"How am I supposed to believe you!? I hate it when others get to talk to you so casually! What if you like them more than me?"

"You know that isn't true, Raph! Please, just listen to me-"

"Do you even know how much I love you?"

He steps forward, staring you down.

"I'd crush their heart in front of you if it meant you'd only love me!"

"Raph, you're scaring me-"

You had been dating Raphael for months by this point. He was always one to get jealous but you thought with reassurance you could keep it under control. It turns out, even with the kind and loving affections, Raph still hated your friends.

He always got jealous, emotional even when he saw or heard of your friends. While he does enjoy your kisses and hugs, there's always something that nags at him. He can't trust them... he can't trust you with them.

"Scaring you? Oh, baby, you have nothing to worry about. I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at THEM. Why do they get to spend so much time with you, hm?"

"Come on, Raph...."

"I should be the one that gets the most attention... doesn't that sound right?"

"Of course, you're my boyfriend. I DO give you the most attention, I'm around you all the time."

"Well... Distance yourself from them."

"What?"

"You heard me, (Y/N). I don't like you around them when I'm not around."

"That's too controlling, Raph-"

"Baby..."

He spins out one of his sais from his side, glaring at you. You stare him down, fear settling heavy in your stomach. You know he won't hurt you... right?

You sharply gasp when you feel him lunge at you, cold metal pressing to your back. His eyes don't leave yours. He isn't too keen on hurting you, he just wants to scare you.

After all, he was still only angry at your friend.

"Do as I say or I may just have to press this weapon closer to your back...."

"... You won't hurt me, I know you won't."

"You sure I won't? I can be pretty mean when I don't get my way, baby...."

He pushes you closer to his chest, at this point just holding you.

"I want you all to myself... you can either stop talking to them willingly, or,"

He grins at you, eyes devoid of any sense of rationality.

"I'll get rid of them myself."

He pulls away, rage still burning in him.

"So what is it? You only need me, don't you?"

You look at him with an uneasy gaze before gulping strongly. You look away briefly to escape his harsh looks before answering.

"Okay, Raph. Just for you I'll cut contact with them. Just... don't hurt them."

Raph smiles, kissing your face softly as some sort of praise. You hold your tongue, wanting to cuss him out. Yet you felt it would only get others hurt.

"Good. I knew you loved me."

Raph refuses to let you go, wanting to hold you longer. You just hope Raph keeps his promise...

However, you couldn't get your hopes up.

[melishade]

Hello!

About the ask game,

Can you do number 19? But make it about optimus and Megatron??

This ask game

Ooo. Fun. Drama. How about...Megatron's psyche during the Dark Timeline before Optimus' rescue

"What are you doing, Megatron?" Optimus demanded.

Megatron sighed to himself as he sharpened his blade with a rock. The environment around him was...dark. He couldn't see anything past Optimus. Part of him knew...this was a dream.

"Taking care of our mess," Megatron replied.

"You mean your mess," Optimus corrected, "Shockwave was your scientist. Your responsibility. If you had forfeited the war as you proclaimed, you should have done something about Shockwave."

"...I'm sure that staying on Cybertron for too long would have reignited the Decepticon movement," Megatron reasoned.

"You killed Airachnid before leaving," Optimus reminded, "I'm sure someone like you would have found the time. But because you did nothing, Shockwave is here. On this world. The human race is at risk of eternal suffering because of your inaction."

Megatron stood up to face Optimus. "How was I supposed to know that Shockwave would come to this backwaters planet? I didn't even know it existed until I was flung through an unstable 'bridge."

"You are Megatron: Leader of the Decepticons," Optimus reminded, "Your name alone either strikes fear or admiration into the sparks of those who would listen."

"I am not that person anymore," Megatron proclaimed.

"You are not a selfish, violent, mech, who only cares about his wants and needs over others?" Optimus challenged sarcastically.

Megatron's mouth formed a thin line.

"You stayed on this world because you wanted to make amends with me, no matter who got in your way," Optimus reminded, "As if that would be enough to repair all the damage you caused?"

"Then what would I need to do so that it will be enough?!" Megatron demanded in anger, "What?! What exactly do I need to do in order to be enough for you?! I am giving everything I have to save your precious humans and fix my mistake! What would be enough for you?!"

Optimus crossed his arms. "You are still making it about yourself, and what you want. No matter where you go, death will follow. And now my comrades are at risk. My home, and the people I love are at risk because of you."

"Of course I know that!" Megatron yelled, "I don't need a figment of my imagination telling me this nonsense! I already know your precious humans are terrified because of my failure! I'm tired of dealing with Hanji locking herself in her office instead of leading like she's supposed to! I'm tired of those humans depending on me for help! I'm tired of training all the titan shifters! I'm tired of dealing with Lara's hang ups about honor and duty! Most of all, I'm tired of dealing with Eren and all of his trauma! I am doing everything to keep them safe because I care! So just-!"

"Shut up!" Megatron screamed as he slammed his fists on the table and sat up from his chair. Megatron took a look at his surroundings and realized that he was on the neutral ship. Megatron sighed in irritation as he looked down at the table full of scattered tools, grateful that he didn't crush any with his strength.

"No wonder you don't sleep," a voice remarked. Megatron glared at Levi as he sat on the table with his legs crossed. He wore his 3D gear, and he was drinking water out of a canteen.

"You look like shit," Levi proclaimed.

"Get fragged," Megatron swore to him as he stood up.

"Just say fuck, you asshole," Levi told him.

"Report," Megatron ordered as he turned on the computer.

"Survey Corps are helping provide aid to refugees," Levi explained, "There's debate about going back to the mainland to help others."

"We don't have the resources, so no," Megatron declared, "What about the Restorationists?"

"Cooperating," Levi simply replied, "They haven't done anything stupid."

"Good," Megatron said as he began searching the database.

"What about Zeke?" Levi asked.

"As long as Lara does her job, Zeke shouldn't be a problem for the time being," Megatron explained.

"...I need your help," Levi confessed.

Megatron froze and snapped his head towards Levi. "What?"

"Yeah, I'm not happy about it either," Levi seethed.

"What could you possibly need help from me for?!" Megatron demanded. Megatron noticed...a rather somber look in Levi's eyes, like he was accepting defeat.

"It's about Hanji," Levi began, and Megatron wanted to scream. For Primus sake, of course it was about her.

(You can ask for more on the link above!)

[the-masked-ram]

A Game of Chance- Chapter Three

CW: Slavery, light master/slave relationship, gambling, PTSD, hybrids, mating, marking, biting, blood, pain, torture, violence, original fem character, oc x Hiei  

  ---- Chapter Three: Inconvenience

 Sometimes Hiei hated the things that happened to him because of his ties to the part time detective. Yes, it kept life extremely interesting even now in Yusuke’s partial retirement, but sometimes it was just so… inconvenient. He glared at the chip in his hand.

Even as calm as it was now, he could feel the gentle pulse of life from the souls within. Hiei had been positive it would stay with Koenma while he tried to figure it out and the team’s next move. However, since only the fire demon could even come close to touching it, Hiei had been tasked with trying to make a bond with the human and demon within it. That maybe he could tame them enough to get information.

He scoffed in annoyance as he rested against the sill, turning his attention back to gentle outside world of mortality. So different than the constant turmoil of the Makai. The air smelled cleaner here, it stank of humanity, but it didn’t smell like blood and death. Hiei missed the demon world already, body itching to return to Mukuro’s territory and his true work. He missed the constant battles, the balance of life and death that could be tipped at just the wrong move.

He glared down at the chip again, “This is your fault.”

Kurama glanced over at him curiously, raising a brow, “Talking to inanimate objects now, Hiei?”

  The shorter demon grunted, “The souls react to me, they listen. They know I am not… pleased.”

It was true, the energy had swirled at his words, reaching out a warm wave of soothing pressure against his youki. He hated that the act wasn’t completely useless, it placated his aggravation to an extent, and he shifted back to leaning against the wall with a sigh.

“Why not try summoning one?” Kurama offered.

“Tch, why should I do that?” Hiei frowned.

Kurama chuckled and shook his head, “Because you are the one tasked with finding out the answers. Obviously, you need to create a bond with the souls inside the chip. What better way than to interact with them?”

His eyes narrowed, “Hn.”

Slowly he fed his own aura down his hand, pressing it into the chip, to stroke against the eager rush of red and orange that greeted him. Baiting the souls was much like baiting the dragon, so as soon as he felt the reciprocating touch he withdrew, just out of reach and the energy followed, until the chip vibrated against his palm and there was a burst of light.

It was the human again; she fell into the world with a stumble as her feet dropped a couple inches to the floor. She was without clothing, and Hiei supposed since she didn’t leave with the cloak it only made sense. Wherever she went must not provide her clothes.

She gripped onto her arm, golden-brown eyes skipping around nervously. He watched her closely, his face carefully neutral. She interested him, he wouldn’t lie, but only because of how much of a mystery she was. Perhaps it was the fact he couldn’t understand her thoughts, or how she survived so closely to a demon’s soul, sharing the same space with the purest form of their energy. He wasn’t sure but there was so much about her that just didn’t make sense. Yusuke chose then to come into the room and of course the fool could not deal with the nude woman in it. “WHY IS SHE NAKED IN MY HOUSE?!” he yelled. “Keiko is gonna have a fit.”

His brows contracted together, immediately his muscles tensing at the thought of his woman’s wrath. Hiei scoffed. The female in question had turned to bare her teeth at what she likely viewed to be an intruder.

“She comes from another dimension. She apparently doesn’t have clothes there,” Hiei growled, and the woman flinched in response.

She turned to face him, focusing her wild gaze on his, “Yours.” Hiei sighed especially when Yusuke took what she said and ran with it. “Oh? Looks like her crush hasn’t lessened at all,” he grinned widely. His red eyes narrowed at the detective, “Like I told you before, we have a contract. And her communication skills are currently lacking.”

He leisurely circled her, letting his eyes observe, she had scars he hadn’t noticed before. Her back was littered with tiny pink craters, her elbows and knees seemed to have large purple crescents, and her spine was just a giant mesh of puckered reddened and silver lines. She blinked up at him, she was almost a head shorter, and her eyes when she looked at him were wide and nervous.

Kurama marked the book he’d been reading, placing it down on the table next to him, and Yusuke walked closer to Hiei motioning to the human woman.

“What’s her name?”

Hiei rose a brow in irritation, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, “How should I know?”

“Why don’t you try asking her, Hiei?” Kurama pushed gently.

Hiei hummed, eyes darting away from the woman towards the fox, before sliding his cloak off again to drape over her shoulders, “Woman, do you have a name?”

She looked at him with those big shimmering eyes, ones that showed trust he had yet to earn, trust she didn’t want to give. He watched as she thought, as her mind grasped at his words desperately.

“Yours…?” she asked, the part of her that was aware knew this wasn’t the correct answer.

“Name… my name is Hiei, that’s Kurama,” Hiei hissed and waved halfheartedly in the fox’s direction. “What is your name?”

Honestly, he couldn’t care less what her name was, except this was his task now, and he couldn’t go back to demon world without giving Koenma something. For now, he was on some form of probation. Mukuro had meddled far too much with his life and for some reason her and Koenma were plotting together. Really just what he needed.

The woman frowned, looking down at her hands as they curled and opened repetitively. He watched her impatiently. But if there was one thing he understood, was severe trauma, and whatever had happened to her had been bad enough to fall into that category.

The minute tremors were the first thing to start, then the gasping, she stumbled toward him, and he took half a step back, his hand twitching to his sword. He needn’t have worried, she merely grasped the front of his shirt like it was a lifeline, and when he looked down with disgust, he met a face of utter fear.

Her lips formed words, but nothing came out no matter how often she tried. Tears were pushing at the corners of her eyes, and he stood stock still, awkward and unsure of what to do. Until she screamed, she screamed so loud he flinched, while she ripped forth a sound like a banshee.

“Dammit, woman,” Hiei snarled, squinting at her in disapproval, twisting away from her.

But Yusuke was staring at her in abject horror, Kurama looking on with morbid curiosity. Hiei stopped trying to release her grip and instead focused on what they were staring at. The wet sound of tearing flesh reached his ears and he saw bony protrusions push from her back. His eyes widened as he watched similar thicker spikes come from her elbows.

She screamed more, voice guttural and rasping, as she twisted his shirt tightly between her fingers, tears falling freely now. She dropped to her knees, her grip never loosening on him, as if he were her saving grace.

“Stop,” between a gasped breath and a break in the wordless screech, she whispered a single phrase.

The singular emotion in that word was nothing but desperate pain. A wish to die. She shuddered violently and when the growths continued, he recognized them, recognized the change and spike in her energy. When she looked at him again, he could see her now vertical pupils vibrating. Her entire aura shimmered around her, bright tangerine changing into a hellfire red. Then it seemed to pull into her and quickly explode outward, pushing Hiei back to slam against the wall with a groan.

When he opened his eyes there was no human standing in front of him, Yusuke had moved around to his side and Kurama stood poised with a rose prepared to change. In front stood the original demon from the poker chip. The giant beast rattled its quills, a sound Hiei remembered well. It inhaled deeply, chest expanding so much that he could see white sacs of tight flesh between its fur. Interesting.

It focused it’s eyes on him, and he tilted his head. Taking a step forward he moved confidently to the creature even though he remembered how much it had hated its original bearer.

“You are the same?” He asked, though he expected no response.

“Hey Hiei! What do you mean!? Do you know this thing? Can it talk?” Yusuke asked, but Hiei ignored him, focused on his task.

The slow blink was enough though. The human and the demon were the same creature. Well, this was certainly something that would slake Koenma’s curiosity.  

“What’s your name?” Hiei asked, pushing into the beast’s mind.

He flowed into her, since it was obvious this was a female now, and the wild rapids of her thoughts were quick to snatch him up. He felt like a toy being batted around from one primal desire to another, and he for once, was having trouble controlling where he searched. But finally, he fell into the human part of her consciousness.

A name floated up and with it a memory of nothing but sensations, the familiar feeling of human energy and youki. Originally two entities, and then he was forced to feel them merging in a perverse agonizing way. Something that made his heart rate quicken and breath catch painfully.

Kouki.

[frivery]

POV of Hessiss, who is 4 years old as of today! I knew today was his birthday but I legit thought he was turning 3 today. Eye update was longer ago than I thought.

Menel and their apprentice have a much-needed conversation.

A deep swig from the bottle of wine he had been given, the beastfolk downing half of the liquid contents in one swallow before he placed the glass back onto the wooden table he was seated at. Hessiss wasn't paying a lick of attention, eyes closed as he tapped his claws impatiently, waiting for this seemingly endless meeting to finally wrap up.

"Hessiss." Menel's scolding voice dragged him from his thoughts, or more appropriately lack of them, he tilted his body towards the older induvial to show that he had heard but, otherwise, remained in the same position.

"Seems your apprentice has gotten bored of us already." the other person at the table mentioned, voice sly and somewhat amused. Ostil, the renowned magic scholar, a gnome of high society. He didn't know why they were wasting their time with him. He could be back in the library practicing real magic, instead of sitting here bored out of his mind while an egotist talked theory to a pushover.

"I am sorry for his behavior, he's still young." the other was quick to apologize on his behalf, Hessiss cracking open his lids to observe his mentor out of the corner of his eyes. Menel was a light-toned beastfolk, though maybe calling them a beastfolk was a stretch, Menel was a half-blood and it was quite obvious by looking at them. A lack of claws, non-glowing eyes, and their skin was mostly a light-tone bare tan that would have otherwise been covered; really the only thing that marked them beastfolk at all was the ears, tail, and the velvet-length fur that peaked out from behind the collar of their attire along the back of their neck. Hessiss resisted the urge to reach out to touch. Gentle face, with soft-yellow eyes, a wealth of freckles across their skin like splattered paint. Menel had aged some since they had first met, straw-colored hair now having small stripes of grey throughout. The half-blood wore golden half-circle glasses, a matching chain connected so he didn't lose them, as-well as an earth-tone attire that covered most of their skin in an attempt to hide the brass-construct underneath.

Half-blood beastfolk tended to be... fragile, as far as he knew the reason for this was a mystery with only theories and no proof.

"I suppose I will stop taking up so much of your time, we have long since gotten off the reason of why you came, and I would never want to bore the prodigy to death." Ostil continued in the same tone, Hessiss taking this as his cue to get up from the small, round, table. He had been sitting around for so long that his back felt stiff, something popping when he stretched. The sound of the chair next to him being pulled out was the only indication of Menel getting up, his mentor quietly approaching the gnome and bowing quickly out of respect.

"I'll leave him in the castle next time." they offered, seeming with some amount of guilt.

"So I won't have to be here next time? Perfect." Menel glared at him for his attitude, shaking their head and saying their proper goodbyes to the noble before leading the way out of the sitting room. Hessiss closed his eyes again, content to use the sound of his companion's footsteps in order to navigate the halls, his eyes swiveling forward to keep better track of the quiet beastfolk.

"You know, I think you are getting to the age where you should know how to behave." Menel broke the silence, the words were admonishing but their voice was almost neutral. They were too soft in order to ever take a hard stance on things.

"Sorry that I tell it how it is. That I don't sugar coat my words and that I don't like to waste my time on useless jargon." he snarked back, remorseless.

"There are better things I could be doing than chitchat with some gnome. Like do actual magic instead of just theorizing about possible magic." the other sighed at these words, a deep, full-body, gesture where their whole frame sagged for a few seconds after. Disappointment, but Menel would get over it.

"Practical use of magic is important, yes, but magic is meant to be studied not preformed. Prodigy you may be, but you will leave no marks by simply using the spells we already have."

"I never said I wanted to 'leave a mark'. I don't care if people hear about me a thousand years from now, I'll be dead. What does it matter if I re-invented the wheel or not?" Hessiss ran a hand through his hair, messing up the carefully slicked style and causing his mane to burst out into spikes as he talked.

"You are still young, yet. You'll understand what I mean later." this seemed to be said more to themself than to him, he couldn't help but scowl and pick up the pace. Confrontation on his mind. The god-blessed beastfolk opening his eyes to now glare fire down at his mentor.

"Why do you keep saying that? I've looong since stopped being a teenager, I'm almost your age now." he had to point it out, he wasn't some child who needed to be coddled and didn't know what he wanted. He had been an adult for years now and the constant insinuation that Hessiss was too young and dumb to know how to be or what to think was really getting on his nerves.

Menel stopped in their tracks, as he expected they would, the primal-eyed dragon continuing on for a few more steps before turning so he could block the other's way forward. They weren't going to run from this conversation, it had been brewing for years.

"You realize that I'm old enough to be a professor, right? That if I wasn't still content with following you around all the time that I could have my whole life settled? There are people leading entire Kingdoms that are younger than me. There are renowned scholars with published papers who are younger than me." he was bristling as he talked, the long-simmering frustration bubbling over all at once. The half-blood opened their mouth but Hessiss wasn't quite done.

"Do you realize that I am now older than you were when you became an archmage? And yet, I am still just your apprentice. I am still just the 'young prodigy'. I am still treated like a child who knows nothing." he let his words hang in the air, the fire not burned out in him but now, once more, under his control. If he had been a child that wouldn't be the case, he used to be blinded by anger so easily.

Menel didn't seem to know what to say to that, light-colored eyes drifting towards the wall instead of looking at him. Most of the time he didn't mind this, he knew he was difficult to look at with how bright the light from his eyes were, but today it further rubbed him the wrong way.

"You can't even look at me when I talk to you?" the half-blood tensed at his words, he didn't know why but he waited all the same, his mentor taking a deep breath before looking at him.

"I know you are not a child, but you have to see things from my perspective. You may be an adult now but I have known you since you were a kid."

"You were a kid too, back then." a teen, at least in elf-time. "But I still treat you with respect, don't I?"

"Atleast your version of respect." Menel responded, some amount of humor in their tone, Hessiss merely flicking his ears at the statement.

"I am not sure what you want me to do. I can't make you an archmage-"

"-I'm not asking to be made an archmage, I am asking to be treated like an adult. For you to stop undermining me whenever you don't agree with me." he took a deep breath, closing his eyes again as they began to feel like they were burning from being open too long. The curse of having blessed eyes, they hurt.

"I am merely asking you to treat me like you do everyone else."

"I... will make an attempt." they offered, Hessiss shook his head in response.

"You can do better than an attempt. I've known you long enough to see all of your different social masks."

Menel looked away again, but only for a moment as they seemed to remember his earlier comment.

"I'll stop doing it." another pause as the straw-blonde induvial seemed to mull something over. "and I'm sorry." it wasn't the best apology, but Hessiss was tired of this conversation. He'd take it.

The beastfolk ran a hand through his hair again, rolling his shoulders to relieve the tension, before nodding shortly at his mentor and turning away to start walking the hall again. The silence was tense, and a little awkward, but Hessiss hoped that this meant things would be a different from now on. Menel's equal instead of his dumb apprentice... though he had a hard time imagining it.

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

A Heartbeat Away | Damian Wayne

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x gender neutral!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 2.7k

✦ based off the song I Should’ve Kissed You by One Direction

✦ summary — Damian is haunted by the fact that he only said good night when he should have kissed you.

✦ warnings — light angst, mentions of pregnancy (a minor character is pregnant), mentions of food and beverages, fluff.

✦ author's note i — randomly remembered my obsession with this song and couldn’t get it out of my head.

✦ author's note ii — the parts in italics are flashbacks.

════════════════════════

Ever since he started living with Jason, Damian found himself straying away from the things that held him back.

His life would never be normal, but in hindsight, he could admit things weren’t as bad.

The fallout with his father came crashing down in the worst moment possible — Dick was dead and his relationship with Tim wasn’t the best.

As little as he knew Jason, he was sure he could trust him so he asked for his help instead of somebody else’s.

And Jason didn’t say no. Whether he had the heart to do it or not was irrelevant because he still took Damian in and helped him find a job.

He hated said job.

‘It’s a job,’ you had told him, ‘you’re not supposed to like it.’

You.

Damian rarely stopped thinking about you. Calling it infatuation felt like an understatement, and yet he couldn’t find a better word to describe the whirlwind of emotions you gave him.

He still remembered the day he met you for the first time.

Jason paced in the living room, perking up every time he heard a noise outside the apartment.

You’re driving me insane,” Damian said from the small dining table.

”Roy’s late.”

”Why are you surprised?”

Jason glared at him.

Both of them heard somebody stand on the other side of the door. Their steps didn’t sound like Roy’s.

Pulling the door open, Jason was ready to snap at whoever had knocked.

“You ordered something and gave my apartment number instead of yours. Again.”

Damian didn’t recognize the voice so he slanted his body to the side to see who it was. He couldn’t stop staring.

”I’ll make it up to you.”

”Jay,” you sighed. “I’ve told you before, you just need to tell me beforehand if you don’t want things to arrive to your apartment. My roommate could have opened it.”

Damian chuckled, a single elbow resting on the table.

Jason craned his neck. “You think this is funny?”

”I think you’re a moron.”

”Shut up and come meet our neighbor.”

Damian didn’t have to be told twice. He stood up with an eagerness he hadn’t felt since Jason texted him to let him know he had found the materials so he could build a suit and go back to patrol.

”This is my brother Damian.” Jason turned around to place the package under the table next to the door.

He knew you’d either seen him before or heard about him the moment his eyes landed on you. People always had a visceral reaction when they met him, some found him attractive, others attempted to ask for favors, and some recoiled in fear.

But you didn’t. You held his gaze and stood in the same spot you had been since you knocked on the door.

And whether it had been in a newspaper or a gossip forum, he was glad you knew something about him. There was something about the way you stared at him that screamed for him to trust you. Wishful thinking, perhaps.

“Nice to meet you,” you politely said, smiling at him.

Stunned by the fact that you hadn’t mocked him, and now assuming it wasn’t wishful thinking after all, he tilted his head. Most people did mock now that he wasn’t under his father’s wing.

Still, he said, “Likewise.”

Your smile became warmer. “I live three doors down the hallway in case you need anything.”

He felt a pang in his chest at the gesture. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Weird sensations in his chest were normal when he was around you. Befriending you was easier than he’d ever admit and talking to you became the highlight of his day.

The pangs in his chest turned into a fluttering sensation in a heartbeat. You’d make him feel breathless when you did the smallest things — when you smiled at him, when you complained about other neighbors with him, when you asked about his day.

He felt special. For once in his life for being the closest he had ever been to resemble a normal person.

And he also remembered, quite painfully, that night he let you walk away without mustering the courage to tell you —or show you— the way you made him feel.

The deserted hallway was yet another proof of how easy it was to lose track of time around you.

Damian hadn’t expected to get back home past midnight or to skip patrol, but 1:00 AM turned into 2:00 and he couldn’t part from you no matter how many times he tried to remind himself to do it.

He hadn’t even expected to enjoy the state fair as an adult, yet he couldn’t remember a time he had more fun than that evening.

You gazed up at him, waiting for him to either do or say something. Anything other than stare at you in the middle of the hallway.

You had already thanked him for making you company, there was no way you’d say anything. And he froze.

“Good night,” he sputtered.

Your brow twitched. “Night.”

He watched you unlock your door and get inside your apartment with a heavy heart.

You moved out a couple months ago and he hadn’t seen you since then. The texts the two of you exchanged were sporadic and they bordered in formal.

He should have kissed you, he was aware of that. And to make matters worse, Jason chewed him out when he found out.

He still looked for you every morning he left the apartment as though you’d remember you had forgotten something. That you had forgotten him.

Jon said it was for the best, that somebody as sweet as you didn’t deserve to carry with his baggage.

Damian knew his best friend to be right, but how could he let go of you that easily when you made him see he was more than his mistakes and regrets?

He didn’t need anybody to carry him, he could drag himself anywhere if needed.

He simply hated the hole in the pit of his stomach every time he entertained the possibility of having to see you one day with somebody else because he wasn’t brave enough to say what he needed to let out.

The idea of being out of time was killing him slowly, so naturally, he’d sought a quick death.

════════════════════════

You gasped upon opening the door. You weren’t expecting anybody to be outside — much less Damian Wayne.

“Oh!”

“Hi,” he softly greeted.

You blinked rapidly. “Did you need anything?”

“I wanted to... Are you on your way out?”

“I’m just dropping this off for my mom.” You momentarily lifted the bags you were carrying in one hand. “She lives nearby.”

He spared a look to the reusable bags in your grasp. “Is she sick?”

“Pregnant,” you explained, playing with your keys. “It’s high risk due to her age so we take as much care of her as we can.”

Damian walked backward, allowing you to come out of the apartment and lock the door.

As you pushed the door to make sure it was locked, he asked, “Would you care for some company?”

Turning around, you gave him a small smile. “That would be lovely.”

He reached over. “Let me help.”

“They’re not heavy.”

“I insist.”

”Okay.” You handed him the bags and took the initiative to lead the way.

He reached your side immediately.

Not knowing what else to do, aware you’d let something slip if you didn’t find something, you made small talk. “How’s Jason?”

“As annoying as always.”

You still remembered when he meant those words, when he complained about Jason and how often they butted heads. His tone was different now, lighter, almost playful.

“Good to know some things never change.”

You walked the streets with an ease you hadn’t been able to in years. Growing up in that neighborhood meant which streets to avoid, and sadly, most of them were unsafe.

There were many things you could have asked or said, perhaps apologize for being cold while texting.

You were in your right to be cold and you could have just not answered, but you wanted to keep contact even though you were hurt.

Damian was great company. It was a shame you misread the entire situation and couldn’t go back to chat with him like before.

It took you a few attempts to get them to talk comfortably, but once he was able to, he didn’t look back. He even gossiped with you.

Stopping in front of the house, you looked around to make sure your mom had the windows open. Once sure, you walked up the front steps.

You withdrew a single key from your back pocket and extended your other hand so Damian would give you the bags.

The floors were recently mopped which meant your aunt had visited that day.

“It’s me,” you yelled so your mom wouldn’t get up. It was her time to be watching TV in the living room.

Carrying the bags towards the kitchen, you caught the jingle from a commercial.

You filled a glass with water and added a couple of ice cubes.

Your mom was comfortably sat on a recliner, feet up and remote control on her thigh. “Hurry back before it gets dark.”

“Don’t worry, a friend of mine walked me here.” You handed her the glass. “Do you need anything else?”

She ignored your question as she took the glass. “Who is it?”

“You don’t know him.”

“Him?” She lifted an eyebrow.

You hadn’t mentioned a guy to her in almost two years now, her surprise was understandable. “Not now.”

“Oh, so it is like that?”

Maybe it was and maybe that was the issue. She wouldn’t blame you if she knew him like you did, if she heard him laugh or saw him change his demeanor to accommodate to somebody else’s sensibilities.

You didn’t think you’d witness anything remotely close to that when you met him for the first time, but you learned really quickly that Damian was full of surprises.

“I’ll call in the morning in case you need something. I’m working ’til 3:00 PM tomorrow.”

“It’s okay.” She took a sip of water. “Did you bring anything sweet?”

“Homemade muffins and a few chocolate bars. Do you want one now?”

She shook her head. “I’ll wait after dinner.”

You kissed her cheek. “Call me, please.”

“Go, go.” She ushered you to go with a gesture of her hand. “Don’t make your friend wait.”

It was your time to ignore her comment.

Damian was sat on the front steps when you came out, looking up at the darkening sky.

“Is everything alright?” you asked in a whisper as to not scare him.

“No.” He shook his head and stood up. “I mean, yes. How’s your mother?”

“She’s good. Having fun watching reality TV.”

Damian squinted. “Is reality TV really that entertaining?”

“It’s mindless stuff, but it’s fun sometimes. You get to judge other people’s lives without feeling remorse because it’s most likely fake.”

The walk back was way shorter and you didn’t want to part. It was time to swallow your pride and your feelings for him.

He didn’t part ways with you at the building entrance. He walked beside you until you reached the elevator — Damian extended his arm to keep the doors open and allowed you to get in first. He followed suit.

You turned the lights on with Damian on your tail. He did wait for you to invite him in, but you were sure both of you knew there was no way you wouldn’t.

“I made muffins. Do you want one?”

Damian nodded.

You guided him to the dining table where a trippy vase in pastel colors rested with flowers.

He looked around the apartment as he walked towards the table. As he sat down, he fixed his eyes on the vase.

“Green or black?”

“Mmh?”

“Your tea.”

You could swear you saw him smile to himself.

“Black.” He placed his cellphone on the table. “You still have that thing,” he said, referring to the trippy vase.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He huffed a laugh. “Jason said it was ugly.”

“Jason doesn’t have the best taste in the world,” you lightheartedly retorted.

The vase was precious to you, a gift from Damian who spooked you in the middle of a rainy night and made you knock your favorite vase.

You set a plate in front of him and placed the muffin there. “Your tea’s almost ready.”

“No roommate this time?”

“Nope. I miss Lou, but I don’t miss having a roommate that much.”

“I thought the move was temporary just so you could be close to your mother...”

“It is, but there’s still a long way to go. The baby should be here next month and she’ll need help around the house.” You disappeared for a moment as you looked for a mug.

Having found one, you dropped the teabag and poured the boiling water in.

“Sugar.” You put the sugar bowl down just in front of the mug. Feeling his eyes on the side of your face, you gazed at him. “It’s brown, don’t worry.”

He relaxed and uncovered the sugar bowl. “Is the father of your mother’s child around?”

“Yeah.” You sat down on the chair closest to his. “She remarried last year and her husband tries to help, but you know, work gets in the way.”

“Tell me if I can help with anything.”

“Don’t worry, you have enough things to juggle with already.”

“What’s one more? At least let me make you company or walk you home. These streets are dangerous.”

You softly nodded. From the day you met him you knew you would never be able to tell him no — and having his company after a long day sounded nice.

“So...”

“So,” you encouraged him to go on.

“Are you seeing anybody?”

“No. I thought I was a little while ago, but...” You hoped he’d understand what you were getting at. “I guess something got lost in translation.”

“Did it? Or was he too much of a coward to show the way he felt?”

“Don’t.” You hated hearing him talk like that about himself.

“You don’t know how much I regret not kissing you that night. I—“ He sighed, twisting his mouth as he frowned. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“At least now I know you did think about doing it.”

“I did. Many times throughout the night.” He turned to the side to fully look at you. “I wanted to find the perfect moment and became overwhelmed. Sounds like a bad excuse, but I swear it’s the truth.”

“I believe you.”

Damian scooted closer and reached over to place his hand on your face. Softly, he caressed your cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

You leaned onto his touch, tilting your head. “Me too. Sorry for being such an ass.”

“It’s fine. I would have reacted similarly.”

“Similarly or worse?”

“Worse.”

You laughed, making him smile.

“May I?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Damian leaned in, placing his free hand on the back of your chair as his nose brushed yours.

His lips softly connected with yours, but the slow pace didn’t last. The two of you had wasted too much time, thrown away too many opportunities to be this close —or closer— and patience wasn’t a virtue Damian possessed.

The chair was now balancing itself in two legs, making you interrupt the kiss with a squeal.

Damian then made you stand up and wrapped his arms around your waist. His lips were immediately back on yours.

Your hands went up to rest on his biceps as he kissed you again. His arms tightened around you as he deepened the kiss and you melted.

You melted into the kiss, onto his warmth, due to the fact that he wanted this as much as you did.

Kissing him had become a mere fantasy for you, and there he was, not only making it a reality but exceeding your expectations.

Grabbing him by the neck, you broke the kiss in search of air. His breath was barely ragged and you remembered he told you he could hold it in for a long time.

You needed him to teach you just to be able to kiss him for longer.

“That was nice,” you said, still breathless.

“Yeah, really nice. We should do it more often.”

“Are you asking me out?”

“I’m telling you I want you to be mine.”

All in or nothing, of course. Jason had warned you that Damian didn’t take things lightly.

But you were okay with that.

[liz-allyn]

shudder; part 6/6 [agent mobius x reader]

Series Summary: Pre-Loki series. You are one of the most dangerous variants the TVA has ever recovered, but Mobius knows what makes you tick. Five times he made you shudder, and the one time you returned the favor.

Words: 4.4k

Chapter Warnings/Tags: smut, language, soft daddy kink, sex in otherwise unsanitary conditions, writer's horribly pathetic attempt at dirty talk

A/N: Here it is guys. I struggled with this chapter a lot, also mad respect for gn!writers. I don't think I succeeded in keeping it neutral (welcoming feedback on how I can improve) so I removed that tag.

You watched a small fire crackle in the darkness of an elevator shaft, being used as a chimney. Rain spilled down the walls, running over old steel and concrete, but at least you were no longer in it.

Once you had had the strength to move off the beach, you found a footpath scaling up the face of the cliff which led to an abandoned mining post.

The population of Olympus-V had steady decline for decades, either by migration, poverty, or famine. The planet had been practically barren for years, save for some mining operations to squeeze the last of the planet’s natural resources.

It was in one of those posts where you were now taking refuge with Mobius. You sat on the ground near the elevator shaft, your clothes still soaked, while Mobius fiddled around with building a fire. You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself and tried to keep your teeth from chattering.

“You know how many centuries it took early man on Earth to figure out fire?” Mobius mused as he tended to the flames. “I mean, it’s not a competition or anything, but other civilizations had it down in like a few decades, max.”

You rolled your eyes miserably. “I got him killed, you know,” you replied, not having the energy to follow Mobius into another one of his “fun-facts-about-history” rabbit holes. You’d been quiet for a while, with Mobius having to hold both ends of the conversation. The grim tone in your voice gave him pause.

“The new guy,” you clarified, your tone flat as you spoke of your deceased partner. The last time you and Mobius had spoken, he had sang his praises. “It was only our fourth mission together and he’s dead. Because of me.”

Mobius sighed and turned away from you, “That’s one interpretation.” He dropped another piece of coal into the flame and came to a stand. “Or,” he added, “you could say he was a great analyst who made rational, competent choices and was working with the best data he had. The fact that he trusted you doesn’t make him any less responsible for the outcome.”

He idly wiped his hands on his pants, carrying on and providing no harbor for your self-pity, “I probably would’ve done the same thing.”

“No. You wouldn’t.” Your tone was icy. “Because you weren’t there.” You glared at him from across the smallish room you were huddled in, bitterness souring your voice. “You sent me away, remember?”

He let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his head slightly. “I had no other choice,” he parroted the same old response.

That wasn’t an answer that satisfied you. At all.

“Why?” you bit back with a mocking tone, coming to a quick stand. You pulled no punches. “Because the TVA told you to? Because if the Time Lords—”

“—Time Keepers—”

“—Time Fascists,” you hissed, “think that I have a crush on you, they'll zap me out of my useless existence?”

He glanced over at you, smirking with his head tilted slightly. He replied with a voice as sweet as caramel, “Are you saying you have a crush on me?”

Your shoulders dropped. “You’re insufferable.” You turned away, wishing you could find a different mine.

“Hey, considering my recent valiant and heroic efforts to rescue you,” he replied, “you’d think you’d be a little nicer to me.” You let out an exhausted sigh, but he kept going - cool as a cucumber. “I thought we had a thing going there. I mean - first, you kiss me—”

You spun on your heel. “Kiss you!?” you scoffed.

“Yeah,” he drawled. “On the beach.”

“I was resuscitating you!” you argued. “You call that a kiss?”

He shrugged innocently, a sparkle in his eyes. “Well, I wasn’t going to say anything,” he responded matter-of-factly. “But, uh, yeah - it was a little underwhelming.”

He grinned slyly. You wanted to simultaneously melt into him and burn him alive. You scoffed, shaking your head incredulously.

“What was the point?” you exclaimed. “What’s the point of rescuing me if I’m nothing but a - a tool? A blunt hammer for the TVA to snuff out anyone that steps out of line?”

The pain in your voice was unmistakable, and Mobius dropped his playful banter.

“You think I’ve enjoyed spending the last - however long it's been - hopping around the timeline hunting people who are no different than me?” Your heart ached with every word, “You think I enjoy killing?”

“No,” he answered, weighed with guilt, “I don’t.”

Your rage flared. “Then why won’t you just let me go!?”

“I can’t,” he quietly explained, eyes cast down. He wouldn’t even look at you.

Fuck this infuriatingly charming, cowardly little TVA sheep-whore.

You felt the venom pooling on your tongue. “God! You’re such a company man, aren’t y—”

“I can’t!” he raised his voice in a way that you’d never heard before, stunning you into silence. He lifted his gaze and looked at you solemnly, his expression filled with regret. His words were weak, broken - barely above a whisper. “...Let you go.”

You stared blankly at him, reading the tragedy written on his features. With his defenses down, you could clearly see every word: I don’t want to let you go. I need you, forever. You are mine and I am yours and nothing else makes sense beyond that. I’d do anything to keep you safe.

Were those his thoughts, or yours? You didn’t know anymore.

Mobius reached up quickly and loosened his tie, before deftly undoing the buttons of his shirt.

You were staring like a deer in the headlights. “Wha-Wai-what are you doing?” you blurted uncomfortably with a furrowed brow.

He rolled his eyes. “Not catching hypothermia, if that’s alright with you,” he snarkily said as he pulled off his jacket and shirt, revealing a soaked white undershirt beneath. You remembered that you both were freezing and wet. “I’m drying my clothes by the fire. We still have 10 hours and 23 minutes until we hit the radiation peak.”

Ah yes, you had almost forgotten.

Ten hours until the end of the world, or at least of Olympus-V. And because Mobius’ TempPad was unbelievably conveniently out of juice, and unable to open another Time Door, you were pretty sure you had about the same amount of time left to exist.

Mobius confidently felt otherwise. He rattled on some jargon about needing a massive source of energy to power the TempPad - something about electromagnetic waves, solar bursts, radiation of a dying star, the “sweet spot” between a steady charge and a gruesome death. You honestly stopped listening back at the beach.

You were too busy questioning his motives and your own. Were you happy that Mobius was trapped with you, about to be swallowed by the sun? Or were you furious that he idiotically ran right into an apocalypse and now you both were going to die.

He quipped that at least that technically made him a hero; maybe he’d get a plaque in the TVA cafeteria. You would’ve made some kind of cheeky comeback, but you were already dying inside at that devastating thought.

“Not to be too forward, but you should probably do the same,” Mobius added, bringing you back to the present situation where he was undressing in front of you. “You’re shaking like a chihuahua right now.”

You were about to question the puzzling thought of him being in a place in time to observe a chihuahua, but then he pulled his wet t-shirt over his head. You turned your gaze away reflexively as soon as you spotted human flesh.

Here you were - former soldier, mercenary, and spy, and fearsome hunter of the Time Variance Authority - blushing like a shrinking violet. It’s not that he didn’t have a point, it was just--fuck, he’s undoing his belt— is this real life right now?

“Don’t worry,” he scoffed flippantly. “I’ll even turn my back to preserve your innocence and sanctity.”

He was being facetious but it made you wonder if he had any idea how un-sanctified you were. Your eyes widened at the thought: Did he watch that on the highlight reel too?

Now he was pulling his slacks off, and you were tracking in real time again. He kept his promise and had his back to you, allowing you the privacy to undress. And you did.

You peaked over your shoulder to see him lay his clothes out in front of the flames. He dragged over an old canvas tarp he’d found - pieces of which he’d stripped off for kindling - and moved it to a safe proximity from the fire. He sat down in the middle of the tarp, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around him.

And he kept his underwear on - boxer briefs, you’d called it - not that you were trying to look below his waist or anything.

Once he was at rest, he rubbed his hands over his bare arms to create friction. You mirrored his steps one-by-one, until you were also sitting in your underwear on the canvas with your bare backs inches apart.

You both were quiet for a long time, facing opposite directions, surrounded by the cold darkness, and the sound of trickling water. You could still hear the waves thrashing and the rain bartering on the rocks outside. The crackle of the fire - the way the flame danced and dimly lit your surroundings, brought you a sense of peace. It was almost... romantic. Even if it was the end of the world.

“I know this is my fault,” Mobius declared, breaking the silence. You could hear struggle in his voice. “I know I was supposed to stay within my lane. My purpose is to preserve and protect the timeline, and that’s it, it’s just....” He sighed, and you listened carefully, hanging on his words. Was this doubt?

It sounded like he was trying to understand himself. “Something’s different now,” he explained, with a little bit of wonder and fear. “When we’re together, I feel… like I’m someone else. And I’m not who I was before. Before you.”

You quietly listened, thinking about how much you identified with what he was saying.

“My head is telling me it’s all wrong,” he said, “that I’m making a mistake. That I’m playing with fire.” His next thoughts brought the tiniest grin to his otherwise grim voice. “When I’m with you… I feel like a dope… Reckless.” The smile faded as his thoughts sobered him. “Dangerous.”

In the silence that followed, you wondered again whose thoughts you were hearing - his or yours.

“How can something that feels so right be wrong?” he mused openly - for you, the Time Keepers, and all the Sacred Timeline - to hear.

The question that hung heavy in the air had such a clear answer, of which you were certain. Your mind raced trying to think of how to respond, how to explain. You simply couldn’t find the words.

So you turned your body towards him. You reached over Mobius’ shoulder gently to cup the side of his face, and pulled him into a kiss.

It was slow and chaste, projecting every intention and emotion that you lacked the words to describe. Each time you moved your lips, you took another breath; you wrote another line of your love letter to him. He sank deeper into your kiss, as your souls tangled and caught fire.

And then you felt it.

You were positioned behind him, with his back to your chest when a burst of lightning crawled up his spine. A desperate shudder racked his body. He pulled away from you breathlessly, his eyes closed, as you both panted and glowed with the heat of the moment.

“If I didn’t know any better,” your lips curled into a sultry smile, “I’d say I was making you nervous.”

He opened his dark bronze eyes at that, drinking you in. He couldn’t help but mirror your mischievous smirk. In an instant, he snatched you up and pulled you onto his lap. You kissed him hungrily, straddling him, as his hands glided over your body.

Your mind went foggy, as any composure you had in the situation was evaporating. His lustful kisses scorched your skin as they traveled down your neck. He lifted you higher so that he could drink more of you in. You gasped and sighed at how your body reacted to him, your fingers digging into his scalp. He groaned with pleasure as he found your open mouth again, your tongue a welcoming partner.

He pulled you in tighter, your hips grinding further into him. You felt his want, hard against your body, and you felt the last of your innocence pooling between your legs. The friction made you let out an un-sanctified moan, breaking away from his kiss. The sound of your voice intoxicated him.

You were in a controlled descent backwards as he lowered you to your back.

When did you start trembling? Has it really been that long since your last time?

Your hands danced across his chest, triggering goosebumps. Even his skin wanted you. You writhed beneath him as he positioned himself between your legs. You were bursting like a firecracker with anxious need. Your hands groped him, nails gently grazing - traveling down his torso and beneath the waistband of his boxers.

He gasped as your fingers wrapped around his organ, fluttering his eyes shut at your touch. You were on autopilot, your physical need in command of your body, as you attempted to pull his stiff erection from his boxers.

Mobius snatched your hands and you froze. He pulled your arms up, grasping your hands tightly, and pinned your wrists to the floor on either side of your head. You were hit with a wave of confusion, followed by shame.

Maybe you’d read this wrong. You looked up at him, half-expecting to read an expression of disgust.

What you found was the opposite.

His eyes— gentle, dark, and focused intently on you— telegraphed a message for you to read carefully:

You were not the one in control here.

You felt the wind of butterflies deep in your core as you realized he had clear goals for you in mind. He was asking you - imploring you - for command of your body. For the record, he already had it - whether or not either of you were conscious of it.

You lay still, save for your chest’s gentle movements, as his eyes unravelled the layers of your being. Trapped in his gaze, you were stripped bare in more than just flesh.

You were time travelling again - years into the past. The pages of your chapters fell away, until you felt like a pupil again, watching your master navigating the geography of your body.

His grip softened, giving your palms an affectionate squeeze before he released your hands. His leering gaze was already gliding down your valleys, and his hands followed, letting his fingertips brush the delicate flesh of your forearms as they travelled.

All your mind could do to focus was count your every breath as his touch and kisses grazed your skin. You wondered how long it had been for him. You quivered at the thought of him planning this moment.

He took time tasting you with each kiss - down your chest, your belly, the crest of your hips. You lifted your core with his encouragement, allowing him to pull away your last remaining piece of clothing. You were finally unveiled before him. He sighed softly, mind buzzing, as he delicately spread your legs apart.

He moved so slowly with intention, relishing each moment. You were on the verge of losing it and he had yet to touch your most sensitive areas. He could feel your hips squirm with anticipation.

“I want you,” he pacified you, “more than anything.” He tenderly kissed the inside of your thigh. “But I need to know that you want this too. Without a doubt in your mind.”

You were desperate by this point, way past “willing.” Regardless, he met your eyes, waiting patiently for your consent.

You were consumed with lust. “Please,” you stuttered in passionate exhilaration. You could barely recognize your own voice, “You can do anything you want to me.”

His face twitched into a sinful smirk. “I know.” There was that confidence again. “But that’s not what I asked.” He steadied his composure and fixed himself in your sights once again. You gazed at him with a more sobered expression, giving this moment the respect he wanted.

He watched your lips now that he had your attention. “Tell me you want me to make you feel good,” he seductively implored. “Tell me you want me to take you, here and now. I need to hear you say yes.”

The way he asked for your consent could’ve put you over the edge by itself.

“Yes,” you practically moaned under your breath. It was a sinful, thirsty plea. “God, yes, please. I want you to touch me.”

That ignited his fuse.

He lowered to his elbows, positioning his arms beneath your legs. His mouth was on you, leaving you aghast at the force. It was like he wanted more than just to please you - he relished in devouring you, like a frozen dessert on a hot summer day. You jolted and gasped, more from surprise than pain. He took note anyway, and steadied his animalistic pace.

It wasn’t long until your eyes were rolled in the back of your head. You were thunderstruck, arching your body and moaning with ecstasy.

The way his name sounded each time it sprang from your lips made him drunk. Every time you uttered it, you felt him tense and groan. It was a perpetual cycle. Your hips would reflexively buck from the intense pleasure and he would just hold on tighter. He forced your thighs apart as you encouraged him to unleash more rapture on your body.

This was not a particularly new position for you, but it was good. You weren’t sure where he got the experience, but he was really, really good.

And if “Sacred-you”— “NC-17-rated,” “parental-advisory-warning-labelled” badass-you—could just see yourself now: writhing on the floor while being laid out by an older man, one whom you’d rarely seen out of a brown suit and tie. You didn’t think this man knew how to fire a gun before, but you were practically mewling for him like a kitten.

And god, he really seemed to enjoy it.

You warned him that you couldn’t last much longer. You felt the tension building inside. You wanted desperately to satisfy him, to feel him inside of you, to have him enraptured with you. But unless he slowed down, you were going to lose it right here with his mouth on you. You knew he had needs, and you began to plead with him to let you fulfill them.

You pushed down on his shoulders, begging him to let you have a turn. He pulled away, pausing only briefly.

“Uh uh,” he chastised you with a wicked grin. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

He was back on you before you could reply, this time reaching two of his fingers into your core.

Your head dropped backwards at the sensation, and now you were obscenely begging him for more. You’d happily given up any attempt at controlling what happened next, focusing solely on the nuclear fission in your body.

You blossomed for him as his fingertips pulsed on the most sensitive flesh inside inside you. Muscles you didn’t even remember you had repeatedly contracted. He impurely hummed and he lapped greedily at the fruit of his labor.

You were gasping for air, beaded with sweat, as you came down from your high. He leaned over you to witness the sunset of your orgasm. Eyes full of lust, he pulled himself free of his boxers and discarded them as he watched you.

When you glanced down to see the stunning sight of his stimulation, it re-electrified you. You pulled yourself into a sitting position on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your legs straddled him eagerly as he lifted your hips over his member.

The erotic sound you both made as you slid down his shaft was sinful enough to cast you both into hell. You kissed him, open-mouthed, and tasted yourself on his tongue. Now that you were on top of him, wrapped around him, he seemed more frantic and less calculated with his movement.

He was gazing up at you like a lustful teenage boy, letting himself be taken by passion. “God...” he whispered, suddenly less skilled with words. “You feel so... ah!... s-so beautiful...”

“You’re so hard…stretching me so tight,” you groaned into his mouth, and he growled in agreement, nodding his head.

He broke away from the kiss, “God - yes, ah, you’re s-so tight, baby...” You grinned excitedly as you climbed and descended his length. You moaned like a porn star as you rode him.

“I can call you that, can’t I?” he said through his own breathless moans. You glanced at him in confusion. He looked concerned. His hands braced your hips as you continued your movement. “Is that okay?”

“Wha-what?”

“The pet name,“ he explained through sighs, “B-Baby? I-I don’t want it to sound de-demeaning, or... patronizing—”

Okay. Now he was overthinking it.

“It’s fine,” you urged him to move on, growing more frustrated, but now he was babbling nervously.

“I could call you something else—”

“—don’t care—”

“—’s’important to me that you know I respect you, and I’d never—”

“I don’t care, I—You can call me whatever you want. Please, daddy… Just— fuck me…”

You crashed your lips on his, but felt his breath hitch as he tensed you immediately. You either said something very right, or very wrong. The sex had all but come to a screeching halt, as you reluctantly met his eyes.

He gazed at you thoughtfully, gears turning.

Timidly, you searched his face for judgment, for any sign of disapproval, but instead, there was a look of almost— awe.

You watched the change in him as the devil overtook him. His eyes turned three shades darker, pooling with lust. His expression of wonder melted into a devious smile. Your dirty talk awakened something in him, like he was remembering a long-forgotten visceral part of himself.

He scooped you up and laid you on your back again, pulling himself out of your body. You only had a brief time to revolt, until he sat up on his knees and he lifted one of your thighs up, pulling your leg over his shoulder. You watched curiously trying to figure out what he was doing, until he gripped your hips and pulled you downward— over his shaft.

You let out a painfully delicious cry as he bottomed out inside of you. He hungrily watched your expressions and relished in the sound of your moans.

His hand braced the inside of your other thigh, holding your legs open so that you were spread at the right angle for him. As soon as he began to thrust, you were done for.

You groaned with ecstasy. “That’s... it..,” he praised you, eliciting more cries from you.

There were no more performances. There was no more pageantry. No more room for pretending to be anyone other than who you are.

You were coming undone for him, and he watched every moment. Every dirty thought and fantasy you ever had might as well have been written on your body. He studied each line.

“Oh god, Mobius—yes,” you babbled as you squirmed.

“Yeah?” he breathed, teasingly. “Does that feel good?” You nodded frantically.

Sweat beaded down his chest as his hands roamed to find your sweet spot, and another desperate wave of ‘yes’s flooded out from your lips.

“What did you call me?” he enticed, his mouth watering for your response. “What name did you call me before?” You were struggling with words, but he wouldn’t stop until he coaxed the right one from you.

“Say it.”

You tangled your fingers in your scalp, turning your head away. He thrust into your hips a little deeper, and you cried out obscenely.

“Say it,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “I wanna hear you say it again. I wanna watch you say it to me.”

More lewd noises dropped out of your mouth, as you propped yourself up on your elbows. “Yes, please, I love what’re… doing t’ me… I need it, daddy…”

He groaned with a lecherous smile, biting his lip. “You are so good for me.”

Lust was dripping from each word as he drew them out. His honeyed, Southern accent had returned. His eyes were blown black as he cooed with praise, “You make me wanna be so bad.”

You were gone after that. Your head tilted back, crying out through another climax. He could hear his own voice—that’s it that’s it—moaning in the distance somewhere, but he was enthralled with your little pleas. The tones of your voice washed over him; he used them to quell the blaze inside.

He knew everything he wanted to do to you, and everything you wanted him to do. And he couldn’t get past the feeling, as he buried himself deeper inside of you, that this was all... familiar.

This picture of you, spread out gloriously beneath him, was impossibly familiar. He imagined a bed that wasn’t his own, and light blue cotton sheets that couldn’t have been his, and the sunlight peeking from a sheer curtain, and falling across the ecstasy-filled face of his lover that he couldn’t have ever married...

That was....you.

Your voice was echoing in Mobius’ head. You whined and whimpered, glowing with passion, signaling that you were moments away from your climax. And then he was here - on Olympus-V with you, and he felt you tighten and flutter around him.

The sight of you, writhing beneath him as you reached orgasm, pulled a deep moan from his chest. White hot light flooded his vision. His body jerked and reacted in unison, filling you with his seed.

For someone for whom time had little meaning, he was now obsessed - trying to catch and hold back each fleeting moment. He leaned forward, his body spent, and you pulled his chin down into a longing kiss.

His mind was spinning. His lungs were still taking deep breaths. He pulled away slowly and rested his forehead on yours, his eyes closed as he struggled to make sense of what was real and what was a dream.

“I could never let you go,” he declared, deep in contemplation. You didn’t quite understand the connection in the present moment. You didn’t remember.

“Then stay with me,” was your gentle reply.

He gazed once again into your eyes with a knowing smile. “Always.”

A/N: And I'm leaving it there. For now. Please reblog with feedback, or send me a message on your thoughts. This is my first attempt at writing in a long, long time. Also it's my first attempt at smut so be nice with your feedback :-)

THANK YOU to all of you for your wonderful comments. Please reblog for support!

@generalhugzzz @isaxbella749 @yodaboo @aloyssia @simsiddy @coloursforyourportrait

[stargazer-balladeer]

Oooo I too am simping for scara hhnngngbg

I just had a dream that he was crushing on me and super overprotective during missions and stuff. I can’t take him and his jorts or mullet thing hair (?) seriously like wut. So idk if that would count as a request but uh it would be funny to know his reaction to seeing someone disrespect his crush and him go full psycho lol fbgbfnfp even tho he isn’t that threatening to me haha (Mihoyo pls release him) - 🎀 anon

Protecting you [Genshin Impact]

[Scaramouche x Gender Neutral! Reader]

Notes: ASKNGI— I WANT TO HAVE THAT KIND OF DREAM AS WELL- 😭😭 BUT I DONT REMEMBER MY DREAMS- IF I REMEMBER THEM, THEIR USUALLY NIGHTMARES— SHHS- but can we appreciate how adorable this is-? 🤧 (besides the psycho part—). Hope ya’ll like this!

Word Count: 1235

Warning: mentions of disrespecting and jealous, overprotective Scara-

Scaramouche knew something was wrong, he has this strange feeling in his gut that something would happen. But, like usual, Scaramouche ignores it. But currently, he’s starting to regret not trusting his gut instinct.

He watches with narrowed eyes as a member of the Fatui approached you with a wicked smile on his face. His electric blue eyes watch as the guy stopped just behind you, you were unaware of the guy’s presence, busy talking with a fellow Harbinger, Childe.

Scaramouche’s black orbs turn into slits when he noticed the guy’s hand moving. What the guy did next made Scaramouche furious and you surprised, and Childe disgusted. The echo of the slap echoed through the room, effectively silencing everyone. You yelped while turning around with a red face and a glare.

“What the-?! Why did you do that?!” You screamed at him angrily, how dare him slap your butt like that?! The guy, who literally has no shame or regret in his face, only laughed at your reaction. “I just wanted to see how hard your butt is. Now that I know.. why don’t you come with me? I’ll show you a good time.”

You made a disgusted face as you took a step back. “Hell no! What? Were you thinking I’ll join you after that stunt?! As if!” The guy’s smile turned into a sneer. “As if you have a choice in the matter. You’re nothing but a lower member of the Fatui. I honestly don’t even know why you’re still here.” “Hey. I think that’s going a bit too far-“ Childe tried to intervene but immediately shut his mouth when he noticed a very familiar presence approaching you three.

Not wanting to be in the way, he decided to leave this to his fellow Harbinger. Even though he’s nothing but a douchebag to Childe and the others, everyone can tell that Scaramouche has a soft spot for you. It isn’t really hard to tell. Childe took the spot beside a Fatui member and lean on the wall behind him and watch as the scene unfold. Ready to intervene if needed.

You stared at the guy in disbelief, you didn’t have anything to say to him. He was completely right. You were nothing but another member of the Fatui, one ready to be sacrificed if needed for the Tsaritsa. You can feel everyone’s eyes were on you two, which further adds to your humiliation and embarrassment. But you still have your pride and dignity left, even though its little. You opened your mouth to make a comeback when-

“Shouldn’t you have better things to do instead of bothering someone because you’re horny?” You blink, surprised to hear his voice. You turn your head to the side to look at the person who spoke. There stood, in his fullest glory (and his humongous circle hat-), Scaramouche, with a scary look on his face. His eyes bright with purple, slightly darkened by his bangs and electricity being sparked around him. He really looks furious.

You can tell that the guy was frightened at the sudden appearance of one of the high ranking Harbinger. Him gulping before speaking up once again, not a good idea really. “T-Tsk. Who ask for your opinion, Balladeer?” The intense gaze that Scaramouche is giving to him never falter, the electricity around him is sparking more though.. “Oh? You wish to stand against one of the Harbinger?” Scaramouche laughed, dryly if I may add.

The guy was really nervous now, you can tell. You can’t blame the guy really, you would also be nervous if the electricity is almost hitting you- “You wouldn’t stand a chance.” Scaramouche sneered before letting out a bolt of electricity to the guy. The guy swiftly tried to dodge but Scaramouche’s electricity was faster. The guy drop to the ground, shaking violently. Many gasps can be heard as the guy continued to shake on the ground.

“Let this be a lesson to you if you ever want to disrespect [Y/N] again. This is also for all of you.” Scaramouche’s gaze switch to the people in the room, whom flinch at the intensity of his glare. “If you ever disrespect or bully [Y/N], I promise you that your death would be a slow and painful one.” As he finished that, he lifts his finger and snaps it. The guy stopped shaking, but he was breathing heavily. Scaramouche returned his attention to him once more. “Do you understand now?”

The guy hastily nodded before standing up, stumbling slightly while doing so. You honestly pity the guy now, but what he did to you was unforgiveable. So you suppose you wouldn’t scold Scaramouche for this.. “Y-Yes sir! S-Sorry for doing that-!” “Sorry? Is that all you gonna say-?” “Scara.. that’s enough.” You said softly while placing a hand on his shoulder. His blue, still glowing purple, eyes look at you in the corner. “‘Enough’? What he did is unforgiveable-!” “I know. That’s why that’s enough.” You said firmly.

Scaramouche stared at you before sighing, the electricity around him died down, making the purple hue around him vanish. When he reopen his eyes, it returned to its original color blue. “Be glad that they convince me that you should live. If they weren’t here, you would be dead on where you’re standing.” The guy slightly whimpered, he looks so pathetic right now, it makes you feel sorry for him. “Scram. I don’t want you appearing before me, or [Y/N], ever again. If I see you.. well, I can leave that to your imagination.”

The guy didn’t need another warning as he ran off immediately after Scaramouche finished speaking. “Pathetic.” Scaramouche sneered in a whisper while shaking his head before turning to you completely. You flinch a bit but you stood your ground, staring back at his intense eyes. “You know, you always bring trouble wherever you go. Do you know how much of it is a hassle for me to clean up right after?” “I didn’t ask for help.” You grumbled while looking away. “You were the one who interfered. I could’ve handled that-“

“Yes, and you handling things would only make it worse.” Scaramouche said, effectively cutting you off. You grumbled under your breath. “Atleast I’m not the one who’s most hated here.” He glared at you, before sighing. “C’mon, let’s get you something to eat. I’m sure you’re starving now.” He said as he started to walk towards the exit of the Fatui headquarters. “How come he knows me so well?” You mumbled under your breath before following him.

“I want some seafood-!” “Hm.. sure. If we find a restaurant that sells seafood that is.” “Psh. We’ll find one!” “Whatever you say.”

——

“How come [Y/N] gets special treatment from Scaramouche?” One of the member of the Fatui complained while shoving a spoonful of rice in her mouth. The other two members shrugged. “Maybe because he likes them?” One said. “Yeah! Have you seen how soft he is around them?! Like, that’s not the Scaramouche we all know and hated-“

“I’d advise you to not talk about Scaramouche or [Y/N] out loud.” The trio snapped their heads towards the 11th Harbinger, Childe, who only smirk. “Unless you want to get punish that is.” He laughed when he saw how pale the trio got. “Just a word of advice from a fellow Harbinger~ Happy eating-!”

[x] Main Page || [x] Fatui Harbingers Page

[stolen-pen-name23]

hiii idk if u still take prompts but "i’m never going to let [her/him/them] hurt you again" for Obitine?

Ahhh thank you for the prompt! This is actually the last prompt in my inbox! I'll open up prompts again soon, but for now, I'm going to try and focus on a few bigger projects.

This one got away from me, so you can read the whole thing under the cut, or read on Ao3!

---

When he is brought to her, it is like he isn’t even there.

“What’s wrong with him?” Satine asks when Anakin stumbles down the ramp of his ship, Obi-Wan slung over his shoulders. His eyes are open but vacant, almost as though in death.

“He was drugged,” Anakin growls.

“What did they give him?” she asks.

Anakin’s eyes are dark with rage. “I don’t know. But I can assure you, Duchess, that the ones who did this to him are dead.”

Satine bristles.

“Self-defense, my lady,” Anakin says before she can say anything about fair trials or neutral zones.

“Uh-huh,” Satine accepts mildly, paying more attention to Obi-Wan and his current state.

“Is there a medical facility here?” Anakin asks.

“I sent for healers as soon as you called,” Satine says. “They’re awaiting him in my quarters.”

“Thank you, Duchess,” Anakin says, the tight line of his jaw softening ever so slightly. “Lead the way.”

Satine leads Anakin through the palace entrance and down the long and winding corridors that lead to her quarters. Guards flank them on either side, though Satine thinks their presence to be unnecessary with Anakin there — even if he is carrying another Jedi with him.

By the time they reach her rooms, Anakin is panting. Despite his obvious exhaustion, he sets Obi-Wan down with gentle care.

Obi-Wan is fully unconscious now — a fact Satine is grateful for. The vacant staring was unsettling, especially coming from Obi-Wan whose eyes were always so full of life and curiosity. Conversely, a wild look still lingers in Anakin’s eyes, and it flashes as healers descend upon them.

“Can you tell us what happened?” one of the healers asks Anakin.

“He was captured by some Separatist scum. I found him, but he was drugged. I… I can barely feel him,” Anakin says, panic finding its way back into his voice.

The healer whips her head up and looks at him more closely. “Are you okay? Were you drugged too?”

“What?” Anakin asks. “No, I was never—”

“These two are Jedi,” Satine interrupts. “They share a mental bond. They can sense each other through it.”

“Ah,” the healer says. Whether the healer feels any ill-will towards the Jedi, as many Mandalorians do, she does not give it away. She continues to work dutifully on her charge.

“What are you doing to him?” Anakin asks as the healer begins drawing blood and waving scanners over Obi-Wan’s body.

“We’re just running some tests. We need to figure out what he was drugged with. I don’t want to give him anything that might mix poorly with what he was given.”

Anakin nods, but Satine can still see the way he clenches his fist and jaw.

“We need you two to give us some room,” the healer says, before she seemingly remembers who she is speaking to. “Respectfully, Duchess,” she adds.

“Of course,” Satine says graciously. She takes a step back, but sees Anakin frozen in place. Gently, she grabs his elbow and nudges him along. He follows her to the edge of the room, where they wait for the healers to help Obi-Wan.

Satine doesn’t know how long they stand there, hovering awkwardly from afar, when a scanner goes off.

The healer picks up the scanner and examines it. “Good,” she says to herself.

“What was that? Anakin asks.

“The results from his blood test. The drug they gave him was a pretty heavy-duty sedative. Not the type we use in med centers and certainly not comfortable, but it won’t kill him. He’s going to be groggy and confused when he wakes up, but he’ll be fine.”

Satine and Anakin let out a breath at the same time.

“You two can stay here with him if you wish. We’ll check up on him in a few hours, but do send for us if he wakes up or appears to need medical attention.

“Thank you,” Satine says, bowing her head.

Satine sits on a chair beside the bed and Anakin paces around.

“Anakin,” Satine says calmly. “You heard the healer as well as I did. He’s going to be alright.”

Anakin pauses in his pacing and moves to stand next to where Satine is sitting. “I know. I just… I can barely feel him,” he repeats. “I was… when they first drugged him, I thought…”

“I’m sorry, Anakin,” Satine said sympathetically, standing to meet his gaze. “But he’s alright.”

Anakin offers a small nod and takes a shaky breath. Satine notices the dark circles under his eyes and the unusual pallor of his skin. “You should rest.”

“I’m not leaving him,” Anakin says stubbornly.

“He’ll be just fine right here. Anakin, you’re exhausted. I don’t need to be bonded to you to see that,” Satine says.

“Why are you…”

She nods her head at Obi-Wan. “He would want me to make sure you’re okay. And I care about your well-being too.”

Anakin blinks his eyes a few times. Whether he’s trying to wake himself up or fight back tears, Satine isn’t sure.

“But, I—”

“Go, Anakin,” she says softly. “You are dead on your feet. Go get something to eat and a couple of hours of sleep. I’ll watch over him while you’re gone, alright?”

Satine watches Anakin’s reluctant gaze fall on Obi-Wan.

“You’ve done enough for him, Anakin,” she insists.

Anakin stares at Obi-Wan for a moment longer.

“You’ll send for me if he wakes up? Or if anything changes?”

“Of course,” Satine says. She turns to a guard. “Take him to the guest quarters, please. Make sure some food is brought to him.”

“Yes, Duchess,” the guard says.

Anakin looks taken aback by the accommodations—unused to such opulence—but he goes along with it easily enough. A guard leads him away, but another guard remains in the room.

“You may leave us,” Satine says.

“Yes, Duchess,” the guard says, though she can see the hesitation in his eyes.

She sits on the bed and leans back against the headboard. She looks down at Obi-Wan where he lays, still asleep.

“What am I going to do with you,” she murmurs, running a hand through his hair.

The hours march on like so many dutiful soldiers and Satine feels them weighing heavily on her. She is about to submit to sleep when Obi-Wan stirs beside her.

“Obi?” she whispers hopefully.

He lets out a quiet whimper, and it is then that Satine notices the sweat coating his brow.

“Hey,” she says quietly. “Obi, wake up.”

If Obi-Wan hears her, he is ignoring her. He tosses his head to the side and a sliver of light from the high windows rests on his face, revealing a tear track. His chest rises and falls rapidly.

“Wake up, Obi-Wan,” she says again, more forcefully this time. His eyes flash open and he blinks at her.

“Are you with me?” Satine asks.

Cloudy eyes look right through her, unfocused and unsure. I guess not, then.

“Come on, snap out of it,” Satine says. “You’re okay.”

“No,” he murmurs weakly. “Stop, stop.”

Satine yanks her hands away from him.

“Obi, please,” Satine says. “Obi-Wan, it’s me.”

Obi-Wan turns his head to her. The fog lifts from his eyes. “Satine?” Obi-Wan asks, confusion still evident in his tone.

“It’s alright now,” Satine soothes. “It was just a nightmare, you’re safe.”

“No, I—”

“Yes. You’re safe,” she reaffirms.

“Where…?”

“You’re in the palace,” she says.

“Palace?”

“My palace. On Mandalore.”

“Why…?”

“You and Anakin were far from Coruscant and you needed medical attention. Mandalore was the closest stopping point to your location. Anakin called me in a bit of a panic. I told him to come.”

“I was with the Separatists,” Obi-Wan says, his fingers clenching around the blankets. “They had me, they…”

“Shhh. It’s alright now. I’m never going to let them hurt you again,” she murmurs, knowing she has no real power to actually keep him safe from the Separatists, but she is willing to say anything to calm the Jedi lying in her bed. “Besides, if I can’t keep you safe, Anakin will surely protect you from them.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, his eyes flashing with a mix of concern and fondness. “Anakin was here. Where…?”

“I sent him to the guest quarters to get some sleep. He asked me to wake him if you woke up, but I’ll give you a few more minutes to wake up.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head and looks at her incredulously. “You asked him to sleep and he just went?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, my dear. People have a hard time saying no to me. Even your supposedly bull-headed Padawan.”

“There is nothing ‘supposed’ about it,” Obi-Wan says in indignation, becoming more coherent by the minute. “He is bull-headed.”

“Oh, so he does take after you then,” Satine smirks.

Obi-Wan scoffs. “Hardly.”

“Mmhmm.”

Obi-Wan glares at her but tilts his head back, his energy fading once more.

“You should get some more rest.”

“I don’t want to. I’ve been resting.”

“You’ve been drugged. That is not the same as resting.”

“Ah yes,” Obi-Wan says quietly, rubbing his eyes. “That explains a few things.”

Dust dances in the beams of light cascading through the windows. The sweet melody of a bird welcoming the morning permeates the silence that stretches between the Jedi and the Mandalorian. Satine grabs Obi-Wan’s hand and caresses his knuckles with her thumb. He doesn’t shrink away from the touch.

“You know,” she says, breaking the silence, “it seems that every time we are together, one or both of us is always in some form of mortal danger.”

“Yes, well, it certainly keeps our relationship interesting,” Obi-Wan replies. He chuckles lightly to himself.

Satine scoffs and rolls her eyes at him. “That doesn’t make me feel better about it.”

“Well, if it does make you feel better, I’m not in mortal danger anymore.”

“No,” Satine replies, continuing to circle his knuckles with her thumb. “No, you’re safe now.”

Satine hopes it will stay that way, even for just a little bit longer.

[seyaryminamoto]

As someone, who's favourite character is Zuko, let me just say that your analysis about the Southern Raiders is spot on. Something about that episode (especially the way Zuko acted) always felt a little... off to me. And I could never figure out what it was exactly and considering the fact that discussion about this episode centered around the Kataang vs Zutara, I thought I was the only one who felt that way. So, I guess thanks for putting my thoughts into words.

Oh, I really feel ya, anon. If you actually don't look at the episode from a shipping point of view, which seems to be the focus of most the fandom, a lot of unpleasant things really start sticking out. I'm personally neutral to the Kataang vs. Zutara debate, I see good points and drawbacks to both ships, and no one's going to convince me that this episode proved the superiority of either pairing, especially when the shipping interpretations have never been important to me when analyzing this episode. People can say Aang is right in the end, they can say Zuko understands Katara's plight better (which, considering Aang has lost even more people he loved than Zuko has, he certainly should have understood Katara's suffering quite well too), but focusing on whether Zuko or Aang are the angel or the devil on Katara's shoulders practically blinds everyone to the very glaring and mindboggling flaws in this episode's writing, imo.

In general, the concept of Zuko's life-changing field trips with the three Gaang members he'd wronged the most is fine and fun for most people, but from the first time I watched the show it felt like the production team knew they were pressed for time and needed some veeeery quick and effective solution for Zuko to gain acceptance in the Gaang ASAP despite all the bad blood there. I can imagine a lot of people love these episodes, but admittedly I wouldn't rank any of them among my favorites because, as interesting as some of their concepts could be, if executed right, my immersion certainly wasn't as strong as with the rest of the show due to the nagging feeling that this was all for the sake of redeeming Zuko in the eyes of each Gaang member... and not necessarily in the eyes of the audience.

They get away with it, of course, because by this point in time, the audience is 100% conditioned to love the Gaang and Zuko, and if you see them getting along, you should be rejoicing in their team-up... but if you put some emotional distance between yourself as a viewer and the events of these episodes, their writing leaves a lot to be desired, especially in the concept of giving Zuko a quick whitewashing in the eyes of Aang, Sokka and Katara, one after the other, so they can genuinely accept him as a teammate and friend. If we'd seen similar trips frequently or occasionally in the rest of the show, with two specific members of the team taking off on an adventure by themselves, it might not be so glaringly obvious (and even... artificial? I guess?) that they're trying to quick-redeem him for each of them here, but on top of it happening thrice, it's literally happening one after the other, too. There's no episodes in-between, it's just literally a four-parter arc of "let's help Zuko become friends with these three".

The plotlines to be dealt with in these episodes are basically catered to each Gaang member, tailor-made life-changing field trips based on whatever they'll value the most, all of it conveniently possible and doable in the span of time they have between Zuko's joining of their group and the show's finale. Aang needs to learn firebending, Sokka needs to save his dad, Katara is permanently grieving for her mother's death. And so, Zuko to the rescue! If he helps them with their personal character quests, he gets 50+ approval points! :'D Honestly, I'm absolutely not against the notion of Zuko befriending them, obviously not, but the methods through which they chose to make it happen simply might not be the finest...?

Zuko loses his ability to bend because he "lost his rage", but he's still angry pretty often, the show even spoofs its own writing by showing him losing his patience at Sokka... while at the same time trying to sell that Zuko "isn't angry" anymore? Zuko helps break out random prisoners from the Boiling Rock without taking a single moment to actually learn who they are, why they were locked up, and without pondering if they deserve to be helped or if perhaps they're genuinely dangerous? Zuko gives Katara every possible tool and information she needs to take revenge on Yon Rha, because, loosely quoting his own words, he "cares what she thinks of him"...?

How about if we'd seen Zuko trying to connect with Fire Nation people, to help his fellow Fire Nation citizens, especially the ones who were living in dreadful conditions, like the ones in the Jang Hui river village? How about if we'd seen Zuko saving lives rather than threatening to take them? How about if we'd seen Zuko actually reasoning with his anger, and either working his way out of it, or repurposing it consciously, or making legitimate, personal efforts to find a new source of strength for his firebending through self-reflection, above all else?

We didn't really need sudden one-on-one field trips to teach Aang, Katara and Sokka to trust Zuko: we needed Zuko to prove himself worthy of that trust, to show how much he has changed, to literally contrast his new behavior with the old, to actually see that the guy no longer jumps into violence-mode 24/7, that he's willing to listen to other people's opinions or wisdom, that he wants to learn better when he knows he's misguided or misunderstanding something or another. Would he have become BFFs with any of them in four episodes if this had happened? Well, it definitely would have happened with Aang, the other two would have been trickier, but they definitely would have been more willing to accept him if they actually got to SEE that the changes in Zuko weren't skin-deep. Katara can be as thick-headed and stubborn as she may want to be, but I have no doubts she wouldn't have been able to hate Zuko as much as she used to if she'd seen him helping people, much like she often wants their group to do. But instead, they don't get to see the actual changes and growth... they just get their biggest goals and wishes satisfied, and that's enough to decide Zuko's trustworthy, no matter whatever sketchy behavior he displays in later episodes.

I absolutely appreciate the worldbuilding context we gain for the raids on the Water Tribe through The Southern Raiders, but I don't think this was an organic way to tell the story of how Zuko became friends with the Gaang. If pressed, I'd even say that Zuko's overt desperation to be their friend is OOC, to a degree: if this guy actually knows how dangerous his father's plans are (and he's supposed to :'D), how isn't he focusing on that side of things, when he's always been such a go-getter? It's not like he grew out of this sort of ends-justify-the-means behavior, seeing as he's absolutely obsessed with stopping his father ASAP, by any means possible, in the finale, when there was no such urgency to be found ever since he joined the Gaang. How isn't he more worried about stopping Ozai than about becoming best friends with the Gaang? Immediately sharing everything he's learned about Ozai's intentions of destroying the whole world might not make them friends instantaneously, but it would certainly get someone like Sokka to take his information seriously and immediately begin strategizing how to counter Ozai's plans. Instead, Zuko spent all those weeks, over a month, even, teaching Aang firebending, going on field trips and hanging out with his new friends in Ember Island. Once you have all the cards on deck and you actually look at all of them at once, doesn't it feel like there were so many more ways to achieve what the show was going for, far more effective ways than through the "let's be friends with Zuko" arc?

Ultimately, there's very little display of growth, in my opinion, in this small arc, on Zuko's side, despite the most obvious and reasonable way to earn the trust of the Gaang would be by outright showing them how much he's grown. I won't deny I appreciate that the writers respected his personality and didn't just warp him into the perfect good softboi the way the fandom apparently interprets him, but even if Zuko was going to be cranky and speak one-liners like "I'm never happy", it wasn't impossible to write better situations for him to connect with the Gaang's members and gain their trust. Even if the writers were set on having these episodes happen exactly as they did, they absolutely could have been written in a much better way, to create an explicit and direct contrast between Zuko's early behavior and the new Zuko's behavior when it comes to things that matter (most the parallels I've seen the fandom drawing are things like "oh look he hated tea before but now he brews it for his friends! So much growth!"... would've been nice to see the growth when it came to a lot of other things, too, if the growth really was there? Am I rite...?).

I may just be influenced by other redemption arcs that focus mainly on characters having common goals and working together to achieve them, then becoming friends in the process... but I really don't see how Zuko's character benefited from these episodes. Yes, bridges were built... but they absolutely could have been built in a more organic way that didn't make people like myself (and a few others) question if Zuko had learned or grown at all, considering the way he behaves isn't all that distant from the Zuko we've seen and known throughout the rest of the show. And the fact that he really seems to have learned nothing in The Southern Raiders once you reach the show's finale... you're basically asked to take for granted Zuko did learn a lot of lessons because he says he did, to assume he's going to put them into practice sometime in the future despite he has chances to do it during the show itself but never does, simply because they drop the ball upon every opportunity to show how much he's changed.

I really don't blame his character at all, when it comes to these shortcomings... it's seriously, genuinely, a problem with the writing department. Take a look through the fandom and you'll see thousands of people who claim Zuko's character arc is the most touching, complex and beautiful writing they ever have seen... and why? Because we're in the face of tell-don't-show :'D most people's perception of Zuko's character are based not so much on HOW Zuko displays his growth, it's strongly based on him stating he made progress, even if there's too many instances where the growth simply seems to have fallen to the wayside or gone forgotten for the sake of a plotline or another. Zuko absolutely could have been written far better than this, he could absolutely have the redemption arc his fans are sure he does have, but for me... there's way too many gaps in logic, too many missed opportunities, to truly think his growth was as extraordinary as a lot of people are hung up on saying it was.

[a-purple-lizard]

Raiden/water goddess reader? Where he meets her while flying over the sea? And he’s just 😳 while she just chilling on a giant seashell and combing her hair like Aphrodite.

Ocean storms

Raiden x water goddess reader

Okie dokie partner!

The sky was ripped in half, a bolt of light zooming through it. Blue streaks jolted in every direction, casting a beautiful reflection onto the ocean below. Raiden took slight joy out of the wind rushing past him, a small childish part of him taking pride my the fact that his brothers wind couldn’t even touch him. It was unlike the thunder god to take part in self pleasures such as a morning flight, but fujin had convinced him to take a break, just for a few hours.

Though the thunder god had put up a fight against such mortal needs, fujin eventually did sway him. So here he was, tearing across the sky above the ocean where no mortal would be alarmed.

Suddenly, a strange sight made Raiden halt. A mini island, about the size of a small earthrealm house, was on his left. It held only a single tree that casted shade apon the entire landmass. In the center was some sort of throne made from ocean shells and artifacts, apon it sat a woman.

She was dressed in the finest of silks, jewels and metal bands adorned her body. A crown wrapped around her head, a black pearl as its centerpiece. Her skin glowed in the light of day, the wind tossing around her shiny hair. White, glowing eyes were neutral. She was indeed beautiful.

Three other women were around the crowned beauty, no, not women, mermaids. Raiden had met a few of the creatures in his lifetime, but never so many in one place.

Glowing eyes met his own, the goddess was looking at him. Raiden carefully began to descend, keeping an eye on the mermaids as he did. The goddess seemed amused by his paranoia, softly running a comb through her hair. She smiled as he landed softly in front of her throne.

“Lord Raiden, what do I owe the pleasure to?” She mused, his name rolling off of her tongue was like a cool ocean breeze on his skin. She handed her brush over to a dark skinned mermaid with blazing yellow eyes. The mermaid giggled, leaning over to wisper to a blond maiden beside her. “My handmaidens seem enraptured in you, I must say.”

He eyed the creatures, each unnaturally beautiful, glowing eyes and skin, flowing locks that covered their bare breast. He had seen many men fall to their charm, only to be devoured. “You know of me?”

The woman laughed, picking up her legs to curl under her. “I was there when the elder gods tasked you to protect my realm.” She casually folded her hair back, revealing the large gills on her throat. “I go by many names, but s/o is the one I wish to be called by you.”

The man fought to keep his composure, eyes tearing away from her lips, he spoke, “who are you, s/o?”

A voice sounded from beside her, “she is s/o, goddess of earthrealms sea.” The blond, pink eyed handmaiden explained.

The dark skinned maiden quickly added on, “Giver of life, queen of sirens and protector of earthrealm.”

The goddess laughed, face covered in embarrassed modesty. Raiden blushed at the beautiful sound.

S/o smiled, gaze turning to Raiden, “yes, even though I do not squander with mortals, or take part in Shang Tsungs little game, I am indeed a protector of earthrealm.” She stared off into the sea for a mere second before smiling, “think of me as a ‘behinde the line’ defense. When shao kahn invaded our realm, the oceans swallowed his army’s, the swamps claimed his solders, and the rivers assaulted his troops.”

“Yet, I’ve never met you until now.” Raiden commented, an eye on a particularly hungry looking redhead maiden.

“Many do not think of the rising tide until it is at their feet.” She explained simply, tracing his gaze to the redhead. “Are my handmaidens causing concern? I would hate for this first meeting to be one that projects intimidation on my part. Ladies, take a swim.”

The mermaids all ‘awwed’ before reluctantly slipping into the blue abyss surrounding them. Now alone with s/o, he felt rattled uncomfortable, he wasn’t too sure why. “So tell me, thunder god, did you really believe you and your charming brother were the only gods in earthrealm.”

Red crept up into his face, a flustered voice managed to stutter out, “well yes bu-“

“Such arrogance, young one. But, I suppose it is to be expected from one who walks amongst mortals.” She mused softly, standing up from her throne and approaching him.

“You do not care for mortals?” Raiden spoke neutrality as the goddess circled him like a shark, analyzing every detail. Her hand trailed along his shoulders as she did, making him shiver at the touch.

“Since the beginning of time, mortals have harmed me. At first, they simply used me, as all living things do, to survive. But as they evolved, so did my sickness. They hunted my precious children, some to extinction.” She growled, her face bitter. “They fought their meaningless wars on my oceans. So I punished them.” S/o said coldly.

“I created children that no mere man could defeat, the kraken, my handmaidens and so many others.” S/o explained, finishing her examination of him. “For centuries it worked, but time had other plans. As the years went by, humans evolved further, so did their trash. To this day, they poison me. They pollute the life I gave them with the filth they create.”

S/o eased herself onto the throne, peeling down her sleeves to reveal black veins.

“You... are dying?” His heart flared up in alarm at the thought of a goddess dying. Gods could die when in mortal form, but if death were a risk, they could easily revert back to their natural form. But s/o was the water, the water wich was poisoned. Fujin nor Raiden ever needed to worry about such things as poison, after all, how could one poison the wind and thunder?

“Yes, you’re precious mortals are a slow, but effective poison.” She said coldly, sinking further into her throne, glaring up at the god.

Raidens mouth pressed into a solid line of displeasure. “You are earthrealms life force, s/o. I swear on my life I will return you to full strength.” He descended into a bow on one knee.

The goddess smiled weakly at the notion. “Such a promise thunder god, I won’t hold you to it.” Raiden froze, cautiously looking up only to find sadness in her eyes, “though, I offer my service as a reward. Should you succeed in your task, rest assured, you will have the strength of earths life force at your disposal.”

Her hand reached down, an offering to the god. He gently took it, standing up to stare into her immortal eyes. “Now, Raiden, enough politics, let us get to know each other better.”

____

Meanwhile, at the sky temple:

[Lui kang] uhhh, fujin, are you alright?

[Fujin] Panicked screaming He was supposed to be home TEN hours ago!

[Lui Kang] Maybe he decided to stop and socialize?

[Fujin] Raiden doesn’t socialize! He says three words, then flys off to go “consult the elder gods!”

[Lui Kang] Should I... call somebody?

[Fujin] CALL EVERYONE! THE SPECIAL FORCES, OUTWORLD, THE CHAMPIONS! I WILL PUT UP MISSING POSTERS!