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woman-of-balnain · 1 year

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Corruption Part 1/3 (Alpha Rick x Omega Reader)

Masterlist | AO3 Ver. | Next Part (Coming Soon)

Pairing: Rick Grimes/Fem!Reader

Request: Alpha Rick x Omega Reader….reader was sheltered and doesn’t really understand heats/ruts/presentations as their parents were religious extremists who refused to discuss anything so “unseemly”…let’s say they’re a late bloomer so they could be early 20s at the youngest, so age-gap…anyway, reader has to learn not only how to survive the zombie apocalypse but about presentations too. And there’s something about Rick’s scent that is just making them crazy and one day their heat comes and Rick has to guide them through…what do ya think?

A/N for Anon: Okay, so this may be far less plot than you were hoping for! I tried to write it but I worried about how innocent I was making the reader. Please let me know if you want a sort of prologue to this chapter (another anon ask is fine!) and exactly how innocent and clueless she can be and I will gladly write it!

Also, I'm not sure if I should have Rick cumming inside later and if he should claim her or not. Please let me know if you have a preference and I will accommodate it. And I'm so sorry this ended up becoming 3 parts instead of 1 but the idea just kept expanding. You really gave me the plot bunnies with this request and I love you for it haha

A/N:

I tried to keep Reader’s religious background ambiguous so you can picture it as anything, but I didn’t grow up religious so I’m sorry if I blatantly messed that up without realizing 😅

This is set in the prison era but it's kinda ambiguous as to when. I just figured that was still early enough after the outbreak for Reader to only just run out of suppressants if she had a bit of a stash of them, plus it gives them more opportunities for privacy compared to the quarry, the farm or being on the road.

I've messed with the prison a bit though. Since warden's usually had their own house on site in older prisons, I've got it so the warden in this one had their own quarters, which the group has agreed to keep reserved for heat/ruts cycles.

I'm also obsessed with Rick's lips rn and sorry, but the gifs are gonna reflect that lmao

Some notes on the a/b/o elements in this one:

Alphas and Omegas are fairly rare. Most people are just betas, making Reader's lack of knowledge about presentations etc more believable

She was put on suppressants as soon as she presented and has never experienced a real heat (just minor symptoms after first presenting)

Suppressants completely suppress your heat and are also considered to be sort of a taboo and unethical in this story due to how they mess with an omega's hormones etc.

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics (including non-traditional), dominant Rick, sheltered Reader, virgin Reader, female Reader, Rick is experienced and the Reader definitely isn't, considerable age gap (Rick is 38, Reader is 21), masturbation, Reader masturbating while Rick watches, oral sex (female receiving), heat/rut cycles, no knots, Rick with an innocence kink.

Don't like, don't read.

Word Count: 5,472

Dividers by: @newlips + @cafekitsune

Rick turned over for what felt like the hundredth time in the small, single bed of his cell. He couldn’t sleep; his whole body felt restless as traces of your scent continuously tempted him. He knew your heat was coming now and it only tortured him even more than your presence usually did.

Omegas were already so rare – more so than alphas – and to meet one after the fall of civilization felt like even more of an anomaly. But then there was also the fact that you were so damn innocent.

Your presentations meant that he’d been drawn to you from the moment he first picked up on your scent, but as he got to know you, it quickly developed into attraction. It was bad enough that you were so much younger than him – 21, compared to his 38… – but you were also just so sweet and pure, that he felt dirty just thinking about you in any kind of lustful way, yet he also couldn’t help it.

The way you looked at him with so much trust, and how tantalizingly your scent wrapped around him… all Rick wanted to do was see your eyes filled with lust that was directed at him, or to pick up on the traces of desire in your scent as he thrust into you over and over and elicited endless moans from your tempting lips. Your innocence drove him crazy, but Rick told himself that you didn’t see him that way and he tried to stamp down his inappropriate thoughts.

His conversation with you a few days ago only solidified the fact that Rick shouldn’t be thinking about you in any way that wasn’t platonic. You had come to him with an empty pill bottle, saying you’d run out about a week previously and could the group look for more.

Rick had already known about your sheltered, strict and fanatically religious upbringing, but realizing that your parents had put you on suppressants and left you mostly in the dark about your presentation made him rightfully angry. This would be your first actual heat and Rick wasn’t sure how you would handle it, especially after being on suppressants for 5 years, considering the way they messed with an omega’s hormones.

He was brought out of his thoughts as he heard a pained whimper escape you from the cell you slept in, the one directly across from his. It made him realize that your heat must already be starting. Rick debated with himself for a moment, unsure if he should give into his instincts or not.

Because he knew that he didn’t just want to comfort you, he wanted to completely take away all of the pain and discomfort he knew you were feeling and give your body the kind of sexual gratification it was so clearly craving after your natural biological instincts and hormones had been suppressed for so many years.

When he heard another pained but muffled cry escape your lips, Rick knew he couldn’t resist any longer. So, he climbed out of bed and headed for your cell, determined to at least help you in some way.

You squeezed your legs together as tightly as you possibly could, but it didn’t help. You were hot all over, sweat covering your body and your clothes scratching irritably at your skin. It didn’t help that Rick’s scent seemed to wrap itself all around you. You thought you’d found it irresistible before, but now that seemed like nothing because you were barely holding yourself back from going into his cell.

What you would do if you actually found yourself there, you didn’t know. All you knew was the undeniable need you felt to be near him. Your mind seemed to be losing a battle against your body and it left you a little fearful.

You remembered your mother calling you an ‘omega’ shortly after your sixteenth birthday. You could recall the way you felt hot and irritated, but your parents had put you on those pills that made it all seem to wash away and never come back – until now, at least. You also remembered the countless times your parents told you to stay away from alphas.

You’d somehow just instinctively known that Rick was an alpha the moment you’d met him. And while your parents’ words rang through your head, they were gone by the time you met him and now so were the pills. All that was left was this never-ending feeling of heat and the desire to be near him that you felt (but didn’t quite understand).

You’d always had a sensitive sense of smell, but Rick’s scent was irresistible. It filled you with such a mix of emotions, like comfort, protection and happiness. But you also found it sinfully alluring, and it left you feeling slightly ashamed whenever you caught traces of it and you became filled with scandalous desires.

As your thoughts on him lingered, your body seemed to respond and the desperate, aching heat between your legs increased. You curled your hand into a fist, raising it to your mouth and bit down onto your fingers in an attempt to stifle the sound of pure, unrestrained need that left your lips.

“Rick…” you found yourself moaning out, half in shame and half in desperation.

Then you caught his scent getting stronger and you recognized that he was coming closer to you. The realization caused you to feel conflicted between a sense of relief and mortification. Your mother’s words seemed to repeat like a mantra in your head, telling you that the kinds of feelings you held for Rick (especially in that moment) were sinful and wrong.

But when he reached the doorway of your cell and his scent wrapped around you completely, all that you could think was how it felt right for him to be there. You tilted your head to look up at him and the heat inside you only swelled more intensely when you realized that he wasn’t wearing anything except his boxers and a plain, white t-shirt.

“Rick,” you whined out again, a little louder this time and completely yearning for him.

“Hey, it’s okay ‘mega,” he said gently, coming to the side of your bed and bending down to look at you properly. “It’s not that bad yet.”

Not that bad? You thought to yourself incredulously. I feel like I’m burning alive from the inside.

“I…” you whimpered, completely unaccustomed to all the different things you were feeling. “I can’t…”

Rick looked away from you briefly, seeming caught up in his thoughts, like he was internally debating something. But then his gaze met yours again and he looked like he’d made a decision.

“C’mere, ‘mega,” he murmured, reaching out to you.

His touch only seemed to make the fire within you blaze even hotter, as his hand fell to your shoulder. Rick either didn’t notice or didn’t mind, wrapping his arm around you until he was able to help you up. He carefully led you out of your cell and towards the locked door that marked the exit of the cell block.

“Where are we going?” You asked.

“The warden’s rooms,” Rick replied. “It’s not far.”

You remained silent then, feeling only a little scared as you exited the safety of the cell block. But as he promised, you arrived there quickly enough. You only gave yourself a brief moment to look around, realizing that the warden of the prison must have lived there, since there was a bed.

“We’re keeping this room for when you’re in heat and I’m in my rut.”

You wondered what on earth a rut was. You’d only just begun to understand the fact that your body would be going into heat now that you were no longer taking the pills.

“You can stay here,” Rick continued. “Until it’s over. You’ll be safe in here, I promise.”

“Wait!” You exclaimed hurriedly. “You’re… you’re not going to leave me in here, are you?”

Rick looked at you with a strange expression, one you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Y/N…” his tongue darted out to briefly lick his bottom lip and it just made you feel even more heated. “I can’t stay here.”

“Why not?”

You didn’t realize how much you were tempting him with that question. In your mind, you just didn’t want to be left alone and you definitely didn’t want to be without the comfort his scent was giving you.

“You want me to?” Rick asked with a hint of trepidation.

“Please,” you practically begged him.

Unbeknownst to you, Rick was extremely conflicted. There you were, pleading with him to stay, but he was aware that you probably didn’t really know what you were asking. He knew that he should just walk away, but a deeper and darker part of his mind suggested that he could stay and help you through it.

He didn’t have to touch you… he could just guide you and make sure you weren’t alone. He ignored the more reasonable side of him which pointed out the fact that he would eventually lose his self-control. Hell, that was already slipping away as he made his decision.

“Okay…” Rick agreed. “But stay here for a few minutes. I’ll get some food, water… so you have everything you need.”

You just nodded, not minding just so long as he did come back. Rick gave you one last lingering look before leaving and once he did, you sat down on the edge of the bed to wait for him. But with each second that he was gone, your body seemed to get worse. That insatiable feeling between your legs seemed to be aching for Rick and the way his scent lingered in the room but wasn’t strong enough only made it more unbearable.

A thick fog seemed to cloud your mind and your inhibitions started to fade. Your hand seemed to move of its own accord, falling to the top of your right thigh and then sliding down between your legs. You’d touched yourself before, trying to forget your shame in the dark of night, stifling the quiet sounds that left your mouth in your old bedroom and finding a small sense of devious relief.

Maybe you could do it again now. Maybe it would satiate your wicked body until he got back, and you felt his scent wrap around you again… At the thought of Rick, your resolve wavered, and your hand disappeared under the waistband of your sleep shorts. They barely covered anything, and you’d felt slightly embarrassed to wear them at first, but now you were glad that they didn’t restrict you too much.

You let yourself lay back with a quiet moan as your fingers came into contact with your folds and all thoughts of it being wrong fled your mind as your body sang with happiness and relief. You let yourself think of Rick, imagining him while you touched yourself and felt wetness beginning to pool beneath your fingers.

You wondered how it would feel to have him touch you like this. Those long fingers giving you sinful pleasure while his deep voice with that southern lilt murmured dirty things into your ear. It made you squirm because everything you’d ever been taught told you how wrong it was to imagine him like that, while your body seemed to whisper seductively to you, pointing out that it felt so unbelievably good, so what did it matter?

You were so caught up in the pleasure you were giving yourself and the thoughts your mind conjured up of Rick, that you didn’t even notice the door opening back up. When his scent filled the room once again, you just became even more lost in the depths of your unholy desires, never once stopping to think that it meant he was back, and you needed to stop.

“Fuck…”

Your eyes snapped open, and you froze in horror. Rick was standing in the doorway, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. You became absolutely mortified, realizing how uncomfortable he must have been, seeing you like that. The fog seemed to clear as rationality entered your mind again. You pulled your hand out from your shorts at a rapid speed and blushed deeply.

“I’m so sorry,” you covered your face with your hands in complete and utter embarrassment.

Rick didn’t say anything, but you heard the door shut and the sound of footsteps approaching you. Then he was gently pulling your hands away so that you would look at him.

“You don’t have to be sorry, ‘mega,” he assured you. “It’s normal.”

You just stared at him, not really believing his words.

“It’s your heat,” Rick continued. “You don’t have to feel ashamed by it.”

He seemed to read you easily, and knowing about your sheltered upbringing likely helped him to ascertain the conflict of emotions within you. His close proximity didn’t help, as the intensity of his scent seemed to just make your symptoms unbearable again.

“I can’t stand it…” you admitted, squirming slightly. “I feel like I’m on fire.”

Rick just nodded, understanding. Then one of his hands fell to your left thigh, resting on the space just above your knee. You watched as he swallowed thickly, the action causing the protruding bump of his Adam’s apple to bob slightly. His pupils dilated as his thumb rubbed lightly against your skin and when he spoke you thought you might actually become consumed by that internal fiery feeling.

“You wanna touch yourself?” He asked lowly, voice husky and thick with lust.

He was so blatant about it – something you couldn’t bear to be. You just nodded ever so slightly, stuck between feeling embarrassed and just wanting to know what you should do.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Rick told you. “If that’s what you need, then you shouldn’t hold back.”

“I don’t want you to leave though…”

Your desire to have him close outweighed your need for release in that moment. As if in reaction to your words, Rick’s hand squeezed down slightly on your thigh and his tongue darted out once again to lick his bottom lip.

“I don’t have to…” he suggested ever so softly. “I can stay.”

The idea made your heart skip a beat and once again you were torn between what you’d always been taught to believe, and what your body was telling you, which was to just follow your instincts. Rick seemed to sense your hesitation and when he brought his other hand down to settle on your right thigh as well, you let out an involuntary sound which betrayed your carnal need for him.

A small smile curved up at the corners of his lips, and now with one hand on each of your thighs, he stroked his fingers lightly up and down them.

“Do you want me to?” Rick asked.

“Yes…” you replied quietly, with only the slightest hint of hesitation left.

“Tell me what you need, ‘mega,” he coaxed you. “You want these off?”

His fingers tugged lightly at the bottom of your shorts, and you just nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his, as his eyes darkened even further. Rick brought his fingers up to the waistband of your shorts then and pulled down on them until they began sliding down your legs.

A mix of excitement and anxiety swirled through you because, oh… you shouldn’t be doing this, but you couldn’t find it within you to want to stop. When those immodestly tiny shorts had been gotten rid of, Rick’s gaze fell to the place between your thighs, now only covered by your cotton panties.

“Those too?” He asked, forcing his gaze back up to yours.

You hesitated, unsure if you were ready to completely expose yourself to him yet. But the fluids that had gathered between your folds as you’d touched yourself had only built up even more and it was slightly uncomfortable. So, you nodded again, and Rick was quick to hook his fingers under the elastic and pull them down too. Your panties had barely reached your thighs when he paused, drinking in the sight of your now unprotected pussy.

“Fuck, ‘mega,” Rick groaned. “You’re beautiful.”

Your cheeks heated, as the compliment was directed at such a sinful part of your body. But to hear him praise any part of you made you almost dizzy with happiness. He tugged them down the rest of the way, leaving your lower body completely exposed to him. Then, Rick spread your legs further and licked his bottom lip again. You wondered if he knew how much your heated skin grew worse every time he did it and if he was purposefully trying to torment you.

“You’re so wet…” Rick breathed out and you felt his fingers twitch against your thigh. “Go on, ‘mega… touch yourself.”

It was so dirty, the way he said it and you knew you shouldn’t have been letting him witness such a thing. But you were burning up inside again and your body didn’t seem to care about the beliefs that had been imprinted into your mind. Your hand moved without you really thinking about it once again and when you touched your dripping folds, you let out another sound of desire.

“That’s it, baby,” Rick moaned, barely holding himself back.

He was so close to you; it should have made you feel ashamed, but it only left you more desperate to touch yourself. Rick’s grip on your thighs tightened slightly as he tried to keep himself in check. You were driving him to the edge of his sanity, exploring yourself right in front of him. Rick wanted to instruct you to spread your folds a little more, so he could see more of your perfect pussy, but he reminded himself that this wasn’t about him. He knew that you only wanted him there because of your heat, so he reminded himself to just guide you where you needed it, like he’d told himself he would. But the urge to just reach out and replace your fingers with his own, or maybe with his mouth… it was overwhelming him.

You took in how heated Rick’s eyes were as they remained fixated on the way you pleasured yourself. Your eyelids became heavy as you watched him watching you, wondering if he really was as captivated by the sight as he seemed to be. Your fingers rubbed over your clit, making the desire swirl rapidly through you, increasing with every little movement you made to stimulate yourself further.

“That feel good, ‘mega?” Rick asked, bringing his gaze to yours and catching the way you were staring at him.

“Yes…” you admitted with just a little bit of shame.

“You can close your eyes, baby,” he suggested. “Think of whatever gets you over the edge.”

You just shook your head, because the only thing that would send you towards release was right in front of you and the real thing was better than anything you could imagine in your head.

“It’s okay,” Rick tried to assure you, thinking you were just too shy. “Your heat is a natural part of being an omega. You should enjoy it.”

You averted your gaze from his as your cheeks became heated again.

“I… I’m fine just… just looking at you…”

You blushed furiously, not knowing what had come over you to be able to admit that out loud.

“Omega,” Rick practically growled out, his fingers digging into the skin of your thighs.

You worried that you’d possibly upset him with the admission and frantically met his gaze again as your movements halted.

“I’m sorry!” You found yourself saying again. “I… I shouldn’t have said that…”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” he calmed you. “It’s just your heat… it’ll make you want an alpha and I’m the only one around. It’s okay.”

You frowned and didn’t really consider your words before you spoke them.

“It’s not that…” you admitted shyly.

Rick’s gaze pierced into yours, silently urging you to continue.

“I know it’s inappropriate but…” you tried to finish what you’d been about to say but found yourself faltering again.

“Have you already touched yourself while thinkin’ about me?”

You avoided his gaze again, looking off to the side self-consciously. Would he condemn you if he knew the truth? But then you felt his fingers begin to caress your inner thighs, slowly moving upwards and you realized that in the fog of that heated feeling you were still experiencing, he was still kneeling down between them.

What use was it to feel embarrassed over words of admission when you were completely exposed in front of him? You went to try and squeeze your legs shut as humiliation washed over you, but Rick’s grip was too strong, and he kept you right as you were – and exactly how he wanted you to remain.

“Answer me, omega,” he demanded.

You just nodded yet again, unable to even form the simple word ‘yes’ as you remained the subject of his intense gaze.

“Do you want me to touch you, instead?” Rick prompted, his fingers continuing their torturously slow ascent up your thighs. “Tell me what you want baby, don’t be shy.”

The fact that he seemed to be encouraging your sinful desires rather than judging you for them, only spurred you on.

“Yes…” you admitted softly. “I want you to.”

“Fuck,” he cursed again. “You’re so sweet, ‘mega.”

“Sweet?” You questioned out loud, feeling like the farthest thing from that as your upbringing made you feel dirty for your shameful desires.

“Yeah,” Rick breathed out. “I bet you taste sweet too.”

Oh, that made your pussy squeeze down with anticipation and you didn’t even really comprehend what he meant, but some secret and hidden part of your body seemed to respond and understand that it was something wickedly good. Rick just smiled deviously as your body squirmed a little and his fingers finally made contact with your wet folds. You let out a restrained sound of desire at his touch, but he seemed to disapprove.

“Don’t do that,” Rick gently admonished you. “I wanna hear every little sound you make, omega.”

Before you could nod or say any words of understanding, Rick pressed down onto your clit with his thumb and the only response you could give was a deep and shameless moan.

“That’s it, baby,” he praised. “Don’t hold back.”

He continued to tease you, rubbing circles over the sensitive nub and it was so different to when you had dared to touch yourself in the past. It was more pleasurable, because now you were no longer in control. It only made it even better that the man you desired in every sinful way possible was the one doing it to you. More moans left you, escaping your lips freely now and your pussy squeezed again as Rick’s fingers moved down to gather up some of the generous amount of slick still pooling between your legs.

“I’ve thought about you too,” he admitted lowly, continuing his perfect ministrations. “You’ve got no idea how much you drive me crazy, ‘mega.”

The revelation both stunned you and left you feeling overcome with happiness. Did he feel the same way you did? In truth, you weren’t entirely sure how you felt, because this was all so new to you. All you knew was that you felt drawn to him and even though it had started with his scent, it didn’t end there.

“Let me taste you baby,” Rick requested.

You still weren’t entirely sure what that meant but you were very eager to find out.

“Okay…” you moaned out as his thumb pressed down on your clit.

“You ever had a man eat you out before?” He asked with a devilish grin, like he already knew the answer.

“No…”

“What about touching you?” Rick continued. “Like this.”

He teased the sensitive nub further with his fingers, emphasizing what he meant.

“No, you’re the first…”

“Fuck baby… I’m the first one to see you like this?”

“Yes,” you admitted softly. “Rick… isn’t this wrong?”

Your inhibitions came back slightly at the reminder that he was the first man to ever see you so exposed and you remembered why that was.

“No, sweetheart,” he assured you. “Get that stuff outta your head. Lie down and let me take care of you.”

You hesitated just briefly before doing as he said and relaxing back onto the bed. You trusted him, enough to even forsake everything you’d ever been taught. And as you felt Rick shift between your legs and move closer until his warm breath met your dripping wet and exposed folds, you allowed yourself to forget it all too and just completely focus on him.

Then you were moaning so loud, you wondered if it was actually more of a scream as his lips enclosed over your clit. Your fingers curled into the sheets beneath you and your hips started to move up on their own. Rick pushed them back down with his hand though and kept a tight grip on you, holding your hips steady.

“Oh…” you breathed out, all rational thought leaving your mind as you focused on just feeling.

You had never felt so good before, and you didn’t care if it was a sin or anything like that. Your only concern was Rick and everything he was doing to you, everything he was making you feel and how right it all seemed. The tip of his tongue flicked over your clit, pushing up the hooded part and teasing the sensitive nub underneath. His lips sucked down around it and his fingers tested your entrance further down, noticing just how tight you were.

Waves of desire were spreading through your body, and it was almost too much, because you’d never experienced anything like it, or anything so intense. The coarse hair of his short beard tickled at your skin and even provided extra stimulation around your clit, where it sat around his lips.

His fingers pushed slightly inside of you, and it was a little shocking, because you’d never dared to explore yourself like that. Your pussy seemed to automatically clamp down around them, and Rick pulled them back out, apparently thinking better of it for now. Instead, he let his lips travel down from your clit and to the tight hole of your entrance, deciding to test you with something softer.

The tip of Rick’s nose rubbed against your clit and then he actually breathed you in, before letting out a deep moan as though he liked the scent of you there. That seemed so incredibly naughty to you, but your body’s only response was to produce more slick in anticipation of what else he would do to you.

“Ahh…” you moaned out uncontrollably as his tongue pushed into your pussy. “Rick…”

He let out his own moan in response, the sound vibrating through your core sensually. And then he was giving languid strokes of his tongue inside you, pushing you further towards the threshold of your desires. It was soft and pleasant, not feeling intrusive as he tested the tightness of your inner walls.

Rick was completely lost in his lust for you, feeling addicted to the way you were coming undone. A good girl, raised with strict religious morals, now a moaning and sticky mess beneath him, completely at the mercy of his touch. It was exactly how he wanted you to stay, receptive to him and eager for more.

Your scent was so lasciviously tempting to him, and especially with his nose being buried near the scent gland at your pussy. It made him crave every part of you and it was hard to hold himself back. He wanted to bury his cock (still trapped within his boxers and achingly hard) deep inside your pussy. But Rick knew he had to be patient and wait until you were ready, not just physically but also mentally.

Maybe it was a form of corruption, as he peeled away the layers of your innocence, but he couldn’t find it in him to care anymore. He wanted you to be his, in every possible way, just like he wanted to not just be the first, but also the only one to ever know you like this.

Your body felt like it was ascending to some high and just out of reach peak, and as Rick’s nose rubbed against your clit and his tongue thrust into your core, you felt yourself edging ever closer. When he pulled his tongue out of you and licked slowly up your slit until he reached your sensitive nub again, you felt the first ripple course through you.

But then his lips were wrapping around your clit, and he sucked down hard, just the tip of his tongue flicking over the little bundle of nerves. You cried out in shameless ecstasy, all inhibitions thrown to the wind as your body both tensed and seemed to also be overcome with euphoric release.

Your legs shook, with Rick’s head still buried between them and his mouth continuing to overwhelm you with stimulation. He licked and sucked as your entire body seemed to spasm. Your eyes squeezed shut and your mind became blank for a moment. The sensations you were feeling were new and powerful and so wickedly pleasurable. It was strange, but even with the intensity of it all, you still found yourself already wanting to chase that feeling again as your body began to settle.

The raging fire within you also seemed to calm down and your mind cleared slightly. Rick’s tongue slowed in its movements against you and then he was pulling back to look at you. His tongue flicked out again to lick his lips clean of the traces of your slick which had been left there. It was so wicked to think of him tasting you like that, but you found that you liked it.

Rick’s lips curved up into a salacious grin and he got up, moving to trap your body beneath his. You met his gaze, looking up at him with a mixture of awe and slight bashfulness. He reached out to let his fingers gently grip your chin and then his thumb was brushing along your lower lip.

“You’ve got no idea, do you ‘mega?” He asked you lowly.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, only confirming his observation.

“That’s what makes you so damned perfect. You have no idea what you do to me, because you’re not even doin’ it on purpose.”

His thumb pressed down harder against your bottom lip, and you let out a quiet moan. He was right; you were still not fully comprehending all the things he was making you feel, let alone how you were making him feel.

“You tell me now, omega,” Rick continued. “Your mind’s clearer after that, I know it is. You tell me if you want me to leave, because if you don’t do it now, I won’t be able to hold back later. When your heat fully hits you, I won’t be able to walk away, so make a decision now.”

The thought of him leaving made you feel panicked. You didn’t want to imagine experiencing this alone and he had already made it so much more bearable than you feared it could have been. When Rick explained your heat to you a few days ago, it left you filled with anxiety and trepidation. Now that he’d touched you, made you unravel until you reached the height of elation… there was no way your own fingers could compare.

You didn’t care that you’d always been taught that this entire thing must be a complete sin. Rick told you it was natural, that it was a part of you, and he knew in ways your parents would never understand. He was like you, even if he was slightly different. It was like he was the other half that could complete you and help you get through the confusing experience that still lay before you.

There was still some trepidation within you, because you were so inexperienced and unknowledgeable in general, let alone compared with Rick. But he had been so patient and had taken care of you so far. The answer to his request seemed obvious to you.

“Please stay,” you asked of him softly.

Rick didn’t try to talk you out of it or remind you that there was no going back. Instead, his eyes darkened with unrestrained desire and he leaned closer to you.

“Okay, ‘mega,” he murmured. “If that’s what you want.”

You just nodded and then he closed the distance, pressing his lips to yours like you had just made a vow to one another and you were now sealing it with a kiss.

A/N: I'd really appreciate feedback on this one. Part 2 will involve some more exploration for the Reader with Rick before having her first time with him. Part 3 will involve Rick's rut hitting and be my usual alpha rut scenario, but with a bit of a different feel to it as Rick tries to control himself with the Reader, since she is still very new to so many of the things going on.

#rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x f!reader #alpha!rick grimes x omega!reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x fem!reader #alpha rick grimes #omega reader #female reader #rick grimes/you #rick grimes/reader #rick grimes/y/n #rick grimes smut

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pleaktale · 22 days

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“In another universe, we had five more minutes. The thing is; I found one where I can have all the time remaining.”

Snippet of Melissa Stacy and the past meeting the future.

(spider oc x canon, Hobie Brown pairing)

"You're acting strange." A feminine voice echoed through the room, Melissa, or as known Honey Web had her arms crossed in front of her chest while staring down at Miguel. She had been called for a new mission on Earth-97881 for some stronger anomaly; alongside some other spiders that, as Miguel said, were people she hadn't met yet.

If that depended on Miguel, she would never. But all of the stronger ones were already too occupied with other villains, so he hadn’t much of a choice.

"I wonder why," he replied back, tone impatient.

Melissa just rolled her eyes, her sight falling on Lyla who gave back a shrug, the little AI company shifting in the air back to her little tech world. It had been a while since the spider was alone there, waiting for the others to come so they could go ‘do their thing’. The way Miguel was avoiding her eyes had Melissa with her guard up – the feeling of something coming up already growing on her chest.

"Just…" he broke her train of thought, letting out a deep sigh and muttering a quiet 'I hate my job'. Her eyes immediately gave full attention to him.

"I'm sorry," he finally looked at her.

"You're scaring me," Melissa whispered with squinted eyes.

"Not intentional."

And with that, the door of his room opened once again, revealing another two young spiders coming in.

"Finally," Melissa whispered to herself, spinning on her heel to see the new faces with a quick wave of her hand. Her spider senses going off at the sight of another blonde girl – just a little younger.

"Stacy too?" she asked, making Melissa tilt her head with a quick laugh. The girl had a black and white spidersuit with some pink highlights. Cool person – she thought.

"Yeah, Melissa Stacy," her hand propped up for a hand shake.

"Gwen!" she greeted with a quick shake of hands, pointing to the guy by her side. "This is my friend Miles, from Earth-1610."

"Oh so it's you! I've heard about you before," Melissa greeted with a high five, genuinely happy to finally meet the oh so talked Miles Morales – well, mostly from Miguel complaining.

"Of course you did," Gwen mumbled.

"It's me! Hope what you heard were good things, though…" he replied with a half smile, his hand scratching the back of his head.

"Enough chatting," Miguel stopped the little talking happening in his office, his eyes falling on Gwen, "where's he?"

"He?" Melissa was the one replying first.

"Right 'ere." spoke a male voice, coming from the small corridor towards the office, a heavy british accent to it.

Somehow, Melissa felt a hint of familiarity when hearing that tone.

"Well, there's your answer," Gwen finally replied to Miguel who just rolled his eyes, probably asking the gods for patience.

"Oi, we goin' now?" he asked, and now it made sense to Melissa why Miguel asked in that tone.

A tall guy walked in, black skin, hair in wicks, black leather vest and overall a really punk look to his appearance. The guitar strapped on his shoulder didn't go unnoticed nor the multiple piercings. His lanky figure walked closer.

"Yeah, prolly'," Gwen answered.

And when he was close enough, it suddenly hit. The way Miguel was acting now made sense to Melissa, why he said he was sorry and why Lyla ran away from the scene after that, his tone when calling him. Him who was no one more than Hobie Brown, but as if he had more time, more luck, if Melissa had been just a little bit faster that day.

She heard some more chatting but it was just background noise at the moment, eyes locked on the guy in front of her who seemed clueless to the storm of thoughts happening on her mind. To say her heart was racing was a statement, it was loud and clear, the blood pumping being heard on her own ears. Melissa could swear she also heard Miguel say something like ‘I tried’ in the back.

“And who are ya?” his voice took her out of it, eyes fluttering towards his own in an embarrassed manner.

“Oh, I…” Melissa started, words failing her for a moment, “I’m Melissa, Earth-1207. It’s… nice to meet you.”

In reality, she was screaming internally for Miguel to help her out of that one.

“Nice to meet ya, Mel,” his hand got up for a high five, “I’m Hobie Brown.”

Her hand met his in a friendly high five, the feeling all too familiar. A small smile made its way to her face, eyes getting a soft gleam to them. Melissa bit down the urge to say “I know”.

first post ever of my writing, pretty much nervous (´TωT`) but I hope is to someone's liking! I'm accepting critique as well since english isn't my first language (may have some traits of my mother language, sorry for that).

If you want to ask something about them, feel free to sent an ask or leave a comment, I would love to answer! ( ´∀｀ )b

Also I'm new to this whole tumblr posting thing so if the post looks a little wonky, excuse my newbie ahh... OK! ENOUGH TALKING! Thank you for reading, see you soon! 🫶

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seraph5 · 10 months

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Okay so about the Meld fic from Star Trek (it's me again, Lacho art, there's been 3 (4?) asks now in the span of like an hour or something). Anyhow the Meld fic. Look not that many people explore the whole prolonged meld thing and the first time meld thing and a meld to keep eachother alive thing all in one fic. I think I've seen like 2 and they're my favorite. But your fic takes that AND ALSO includes a wildly compelling reason and background for doing so. We all love a "go figure out what that strange anomaly is on that planet" fic, so excellent start, and that tiny convo between Kirk and Spock to get Spock to let them both beam down *chef's kiss*. So much serotonin right there, perfect characterization. Then you make cool energy beings? Love me something like an energy being. AN ENERGY BEING THAT DEPENDS ON YOUR OWN PERCEPTION OF THEM???????? OH BEAUTIFUL what an idea what a fantastic thought what an intrigueing and interesting living being. Perfect Star Trek creature. I'm teleported directly into the fic, I can visualize exactly what's happening on my tv, just like watching the show. I haven't even gotten to the meld yet. Spock gets away through Vulcan control? Excellent. Kirk gets away by being a Genius? Superb. Spock grabs Kirk and Kirk is freaked at first and Spock melds with him and Kirk is like 'oh it's Spock, probs not gunna die' and chills out and they talk and Spock goes through the 7 stages of 'woah this human is actually figuring this out pretty quickly' and some finger touching and Spock gets to first hand experience how dedicated Kirk is to his crew when Spock decides to get injured to keep them alive and the you ended that last chapter with Kirk getting revved up for another probable death experience??????? You ever read a fic that checks every box you have and creates new boxes you didn't even know you had? Yeah, that's what this Meld fic is doing for me. Absolutely perfect fic. Love everything about it. Spock is Spock and Kirk is Kirk and their interactions are Right and the story is compelling and the setting is interesting and I've been chewing through it like every few days. It's wonderful.

Ugh this note is giving me LIFE anon!!! I was so worried people would be confused about why Spock was so adamant about the 'no two command level officers off the ship' thing but I'm so glad it hit for you and worked. The fun thing is...and this isn't exactly spoilers but I go into the why the whole perception thing matters anyway I won't say more on that cause I'm excited for you to read it.

I'm so glad you like the Kirk getting reved up too!!! There's something I don't see noted a lot in fics and that's that he likes challenges. It exhilarates him to be put to the test. I really didn't want that to come across in a macho way or in a devil may care way but I think it's one of the many things that makes him stand out as a character. It's all those moments that someone threatens him and he smiles. All those times he's presented with something difficult and he doesn't panic: he sharpens.

I'm so glad you like it! I've been working on the last chapter and I'm honestly so keen to release it. I have a wedding not this week but next week so that's taking up a lot of my spare time (in a good way) but once that's done I should have more headspace to sit with the fic and enjoy finishing it.

#spirk #spock #james t kirk #captain james t kirk #jim kirk #meld #mind meld #myart

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belafujoshisdead · 1 year

Text

Red Echoes

Virenina tries to give Asaau a breather. Asaau learns more of Ai Naa's nature, and considers a betrayal.

The whole thing was madness, yet Virenina's words made a certain sort of sense. Which was harder to accept: that she had some sort of freak anomaly for a paired spirit, or that the thing paired to her was no spirit at all? What else could it be?

God, some part of him whispered. But no. No. The time of living gods was long past. If a god had clawed its way from the grave, surely the world would have felt it.

"Seket?"

Asaau knew he should say something. He should at least look up at Virenina. He could not manage to so much as shift his eyes.

"I'm going to take the lenses off you. You don't need them anymore. Alright?"

He did want them off, Asaau realized, but he couldn't even nod to show he'd heard.

Virenina waited a few seconds, then went ahead and lifted the lenses from Asaau's face. She did it slowly, carefully, gripping the lenses between her thumb and forefinger while keeping the others curled away into fists. That struck him as odd. Why –

Oh.

He was still on the ground, at her feet, paralyzed like frozen prey. The fear must have been pouring from him in waves.

She was trying not to touch him.

"I'm going to sit down beside you," she informed him. "A few feet away. Sit up when you're…when you can."

When he could at last sit up and raise his head, Asaau found her looking at him.

For a while, they simply regarded one another across the distance between them, in a near-silence broken only by the faint hissing of distant sea and breeze-riffled leaves. At last Virenina opened her mouth to say something. Asaau braced himself to hear whatever it might be, but instead she looked at him silently a moment longer, then closed her mouth and dropped her gaze. That felt wrong enough to reach Asaau even through the fog of his own fear.

He noticed then, too, that there was no blade hovering behind her head. She'd left the spear behind. Relief welled up in him, and gratitude – and a stranger, half-painful feeling that lay beyond his ability to name.

She left the spear. It was considerate. It was as if she'd cut off her own arm and nailed it down before going to him. It fit, somehow, with the rest of what she'd done. Left the spear. Tried not to touch me. Warned me of her movements…

There was something tying her actions together, something that ran deeper than mere consideration. If he could only –

"Do I disgust you now?" Virenina asked him quietly, and all at once Asaau understood.

"No," he said, immediately, truthfully. "No."

It did not feel like enough, yet he could not think what else to say. His eyes kept finding the emptiness at Virenina's shoulder. She looked so strangely alone without the spear at her back.

"How…do you feel?" Virenina asked, then hesitated for the barest second before continuing: "Other than – afraid. I know what I – "

She is about to cut herself with her own tongue, I can sense it. Somehow, the idea was more than Asaau could stand.

"More than anything," he cut in, "I feel…I feel lost." More than anything was barely even a lie; by now the fear had gone from an all-consuming feeling to something that registered more like background radiation. "I've seen," he went on, "but I don't understand. How did you…?"

"Ai Naa," Virenina said. Her voice was half bitter curse, half lover's sigh. "My paired spirit. My other half. I didn't lie about that, at least. Everything else…" She ran one hand through her hair and gave a short dead laugh.

"That's – " Impossible, Asaau nearly said, and caught himself only just in time. Whose soul is it tethered to, Seket, yours or hers? " – Difficult," he said instead. "A difficult idea to – to take in. I believe you," he hastened to add, "but…"

"But you can't accept that a spirit could do that. Your mind rejects it, even after you saw it yourself."

Asaau could only nod.

"I know how it looks," Virenina said to him. "I do. But what else can it be?" She tapped off joint after joint on her fingers, counting. "He found me seven days into my seventh year. We made contact at a pale spire. He's bound to an anchor, the anchor is part of me. We share my life between us." She brought her hand down, clasped it around her other wrist. "If it's not a pairing, it looks enough like one to fool everyone I've met. To fool you. Fool me."

Her gaze fell to the ground again.

"The forms fit," she said. Almost pleaded. "Of what we are. It's just the scale that's wrong."

God, some part of him whispered. But no. No. The time of living gods was long past. If a god had clawed its way from the grave, surely the world would have felt it.

"You've always told others that Ai Naa is unawakened," Asaau began, "but if that was part of the lie…"

"Oh, he's awake." Virenina said, and grinned sickly. "Awakened. That's what you really want to know, isn't it." Her shoulders shook, as if with laughter, though she voiced none. "What woke him. What called to him in the dreamsea."

Again, Asaau could only nod.

The unseen world of spirits shadowed all of Tei Ura – layered upon it, saturating it to the core, the animating soul to Tei Ura's anchoring body. Each world bled into the other, colored it, shaped it, fed it. One such bleeding was the dreamsea: a shadow dreamed upon the unseen world by humanity, pooled together from the uncountable liquid fragments of their thoughts and fears, their dreams and desires. An awakened spirit was one that had fixated on a handful of fragments from the dreamsea and then accreted a sense of self around them, layer by pearllike layer. To know those fragments was to know – or at least glimpse – an awakened spirit's nature.

"Red hunger," Virenina said at last.

Horror froze Asaau's heart in his chest. No, he wanted to say. A fragment that old, shared across myriad minds, fed for so many thousands of years by humanity's bloodiest dreams… No, that can't be, mustn't, it runs too deep. He wanted, needed, to deny it, but his breath had stilled in his lungs.

And Virenina was still talking.

"Sacrifice upon the Court," she was saying. "Throats torn open under fangs. Flesh devoured on the pyre. As long as it tastes of blood." Another laugh fell like a dead thing from her lips. "But it's funny. He never knew that taste until me. Until he had my tongue to learn from. It's kind of an honor, really." She was trying to grin again. "If you think about it. Thousands of years dreaming in red, but I gave him his first taste, I…he…"

One hand rose slowly to her face. Pressed itself over the black patch that covered what had once been her left eye.

Asaau wanted to say – to do – something – but seeing Virenina like this left him feeling as unsteady as the sea that hissed and swelled below them. Should he offer sympathy? He could try – but Virenina might well taste it as pity and spit it back in his face. Comfort her? But being comforted had always made Virenina squirm and snap, even as a child. Why should that change now? Perhaps he should simply ask her to keep going – but the way she kept trailing off made him hesitate. What if even the slightest push was too much?

Yet as worried as Asaau was about saying the wrong thing, the fixed and distant look in Virenina's lone eye worried him even more. And her face…her face had gone terribly still in a way that made Asaau think of Vene. Vene, consumed by his own red work, too entranced to eat or sleep. Vene, wandering forth from the Tauhrelil family crypt, drained half to death by a days-long neural dive into his ancestors' secrets. Vene, who had tried to stop for Asaau, tried to keep himself tethered…and in return, Asaau had failed him, let him slip away, and Vene had disappeared from Asaau's world entirely.

Not his daughter, too. Asaau looked at Virenina sitting in hollow silence and felt something like a rusted fishhook catching between his ribs. Why else had Au Melai drawn this thread between them, if not for a chance at restitution?

The gods may rise from their graves if you think it over much longer, just say something – !

"Virenina?"

He hadn't meant to use her given name unasked, but he could beg forgiveness for that impropriety later. At least now she was looking at him. Asaau scrambled in his head for something to say next – anything, anything, just get it out before she drifts away again – and came up, finally, against the reason that had brought them here to begin with.

"You would have taken this secret to your pyre if you could," Asaau said. "Am I wrong?"

Virenina shook her head slowly, shallowly.

"Perhaps there's another world where you've managed to do just that," he went on. "But in ours, they're still rebuilding the trial chamber – " At that, Virenina's lone eye filled with silent hurt. "For which I do not blame you," Asaau said quickly. "Not remotely. You did what the chamber was designed to make you do, nothing more – in fact, now that I've seen what you're…what you're capable of…I'm amazed that nothing worse happened."

They'd placed someone paired with a spirit grown on red hunger in the trial chamber. Now that he knew… Oh my dear dead gods, it could have been so much worse. The column of killing light flashed again in his mind. She could have…we could all have been…

"I could've killed everyone," Virenina said in a low, choked voice. "I shouldn't…I should never have…"

Part of Asaau agreed with her, but to say so now would have been too cruel. And the selection cycle – the final act is so close at hand. To abandon your candidate this late in the campaign would be suicide. What else can you do now but help her see it through?

Well – he could betray her. Tell someone else the truth of what Virenina was paired with, of what she could do. A doctor, a channeler, a scientist, a seer – someone who could help…yet even as the notion surfaced, Asaau was already discarding it. Finding someone who'd believe him would be a trial all its own, and that someone might tell another in turn; if word got out, even a twice-royal pedigree might not be enough to save Virenina from being made a research subject. Whatever she was, whatever she was paired with, it was beyond a rarity. Should they learn of it, even some of her own Tauhrelil relations might find scientific curiosity outweighing blood affinity; if not them, then someone, somewhere, was bound to be mad or greedy or foolish enough to try.

Then Virenina would of course attempt to escape. Asaau could see no way for that to end but in slaughter. Another laboratory piled with corpses, painted in red, and again it would be his fault –

No. The only way he could bear to go was forward.

"You've told me before," he said at last, "that you were made to be a Spear. That you can't see a life as anything else. Is that still true?"

"Yeah." Though Virenina's voice shook slightly, she answered almost at once.

"And I am your instructor," Asaau said. "Your sponsor in this campaign, here to help you succeed. Yes? So don't…" His hands twisted themselves together in his lap. Words usually came to him as easily as silk to a spider, but right now all the threads felt so hopelessly snarled. "That is – you're already forcing yourself by telling me anything at all – I don't wish to make this harder for you than it is already…"

He almost wished Virenina would interrupt him, but she only watched and waited. Asaau pulled his hands apart and refolded them on his lap, straightened his spine, breathed inward.

"You told me about – about your partner – for the sake of your career," he started again. "Whatever you still need to tell me…perhaps doing so would be easier if you thought of in that way. If I were to ask you, How does this affect your campaign…?"

A shift in Virenina's lone eye told him she'd gone from merely watching to thinking. Now it was Asaau's turn to wait and listen.

"That's…easier," she admitted. "Yeah. I can answer that. But first I – "

And then her face and body fell into sudden stillness as a strange movement seized her flesh – a kind of flinching underskin ripple that passed down the length of her, gone almost as soon as it began. Asaau wondered how violently Virenina would have let herself shudder if he hadn't been watching.

"Need to go back," she said, with a ragged edge to her voice that hadn't been there a moment ago. She paused a moment, swallowed sharply; when she spoke again, it was gone. "The spear."

Asaau's heart lurched; he'd been so focused on Virenina that he'd all but forgotten about her partner's anchor.

"I can't leave it any longer. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it's part of you," Asaau said automatically, and started to get up.

"You don't have to come with me," said Virenina. "You'd see the aftermath of that – " She pointed skyward – "if you did. I can get it alone. You saw enough already, I don't want to make you…I can get it alone," she said again. "Or call it back to me from here."

He could wait alone in the dark for a second time. He could sit in place as a hungry blade came flying at him through the night.

Or he could go with Virenina, and see.

#writing #fiction #original fiction #fantasy #science fantasy #ocs #tei ura #virenina ii tauhrelil #asaau iv seket #ai naa #red echoes #my writing

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smells-like-mettaton · 3 years

Text

Tali’s Alphys-Centric Fic Rec List

I’ve been meaning to make this for a while!! All fics are oneshots unless marked as a series or with a chapter count. Thanks to everyone who recced several of these to me on my 12am begging-for-alphys-fics post dfdksdl. These aren’t in any particular order. The “notes” section is my commentary about each fic. No fics are based on full AUs (ex. underswap, horrortale, etc). The only endgame Alphys ship included is Alphyne, though most of the fics listed are gen. Hope you can find something you enjoy here!

Extra Credit by FriedCatfish

Rating: G // Word count: 1,206 Summary: Undyne loses track of time watching anime. Set before the events of the game. Notes: Cute Alphyne oneshot! Short and sweet, very nice characterization

world comes pouring through by feralpheonix

Rating: G // Word count: 1,655 Summary: Alphys reunites with some old friends on the way home from taking care of business. Notes: 2nd person Alphys pov but it surprisingly works? A small moment with Alphys, Bratty, and Catty, which I literally NEVER see content for so it was really refreshing!! Takes place at/near the end of the pacifist route.

white lies to the dead by MiniNephthys

Rating: T // Word Count: 580 Summary: Alphys walks through Waterfall, talking to someone who's not there. Notes: Queen Alphys ending; Alphys “talks” to Undyne after she’s been killed. Hits me right in all the emotions ;;

Found Soul by LibraLibrary

Rating: T // Word Count: 1,331 Summary: Self-worth is a slippery, fleeting little devil, and the bastard flower that killed you isn't helping. Takes place during the final fight of the True Pacifist run, following Alphys from one purgatory to the next. Notes: Very angsty, definitely make sure you’re ready to handle Alphys’s suicidal thoughts, but a very good read! I love seeing the Lost Soul battle from her POV.

And I Feel Fine by Masu_Trout

Rating: T // Word Count: 1,685 Summary: The fallen human is human is fast approaching The Core, and Mettaton is ready to finally take the stage. Now, if only Alphys would stop worrying so much. Notes: Alphys & Mettaton friendship in the no mercy route, but manages to be surprisingly not depressing. Mettaton POV but definitely still deserves to be here. This fic does a great job of characterizing them both and it’s always great to see Alphys working in her element.

Experimentation by pickledragon

Rating: G // Word Count: 1,531 Summary: Alphys is, above all, a scientist. She may watch anime with religious fervor and make horrible Undernet shitposts in her free time, but she is good at her job. She knows what they say about her, behind her back. But when she stands there, time open before her, she resolves to collect data. Each experiment, intentional or not, brings new opportunities to change certain variables and observe others. Alphys is a scientist, after all. Notes: THIS FIC. it’s technically part of a series but it stands on its own (it’s the only one i’ve read by this author). EXCELLENT alphys characterization and writing style. Some Sans & Alphys friendship too which is always stellar. If you didn’t gather from the summary, it’s an alphys starts to remember resets fic.

Memory by Ash_yeet

Rating: T // Word Count: 19,962 // Chapters: 5/20 Summary: It's been two years since monsterkind have joined the humans on the surface, and Alphys is happier than she's ever been. But things can't stay great forever. She starts having nightmares, lapses in memory, flashbacks to things that have never happened. She hopes it will pass... sans is doing his best to adjust to life. When Alphys reaches out to him about her nightmares, he doesn't expect much. He quickly changes his tune. Someone is trying to come back. And they aren't what they used to be.sans and Alphys are trying to move on. But there's one thing they forgot: No matter how hard you try, you can't run from your past. Notes: I’ve only read chapter one so far, but it’s been really good! Looks like it’s going to involve Gaster in some way. Says it’s on short hiatus but was updated in April so doesn’t look abandoned.

Hot and Cold Blooded (Alphyne series) by perniciousLizard

Rating: varies by fic, usually G but a few T and one E // Word count: 36,516 // Works: 18/18 Summary: This series is a place to put all my Alphys/Undyne stories that aren't part of another series. Notes: this series has something for everyone; you can pick and choose which works to read. Most are feel-good fluff and humor, some hurt/comfort too. Some connect to the author’s Sansby series (which i also can’t recommend enough)

When Life Hands You Enantiomers by Kaesa

Rating: T // Word Count: 2,739 Summary: Alphys has a half-finished tile maze puzzle, reams of useless data, and a bunch of piranhas that can't tell the difference between lemon and orange scent. Sans has donuts. Notes: ONE OF MY VERY FAVORITES. Fun puns, science, alphys & sans friendship, piranhas, the opportunity to actually understand organic chemistry references,, it’s so good and fun

Friendshipping by AyuOhseki

Rating: G // Word Count: 4,564 Summary: Sans finds Alphys's secret Sans/Grillby RPF. This won't get weird or awkward or anything, we're sure. Notes: Hilarious Alphys narration, great characterization, it’s just so silly and warms my heart. I love terrible fanfic writer Alphys

social links by simplycarryon

Rating: G // Word Count: 2,525 Summary: Friendship's pretty neat, or so your video games and anime dictate. But you are not an anime protagonist, and you're not sure you know what friendship is any more. Notes: more solid sans & alphys friendship :D

See You Another Time by decamarks

Rating: T // Word Count: 18,500 // Chapters: 1/14 Summary: “Have you ever thought of a world where everything is exactly the same... Except you don’t exist? Everything functions perfectly without you.” Alphys spent a lot of time thinking about what it’d be like to start over. It wasn’t fair for someone like her to escape consequences. She knew that, yet the thought never left her mind—the thought that maybe, just maybe, she could get another chance; that she could abandon her life, her failures—everything—and start anew. But that would never happen. Sometimes, Alphys wondered. Would the world be better off without her? When unexplainable anomalies appear and begin to warp the world around her, Alphys discovers something she was never meant to know: the identity of the former Royal Scientist, and how he met his demise. Doctor W.D. Gaster vanished without a trace; he was erased from reality after an experiment ended in disgrace. Forgotten by the world, shattered across time and space—it’s like he never existed in the first place.And Alphys can’t imagine a better fate. Notes: This is a monster of a first chapter but definitely worth the read!! So much good stuff happening already. I’m a total wuss but I still love the cosmic/existential horror bits going on so far. Great Sans & alphys friendship and Undyne & alphys friendship so far. All the amalgamates also feel incredibly well written. Can’t wait to see more of this one

(And here are a few of my own Alphys-centric fics as well)

Seventh Time’s the Charm by Taliax

Rating: G // Word Count: 1,519 // Chapters: 1/7 Summary: Six bad "dates" Alphys has been on, plus one that is actually pretty good. Notes: Alphys is my favorite and I love giving her a bad time. First chapter is a “date” she has with Sans. Next chapter which I have in progress is going to be Papyrus. (Alphyne is still endgame of course.) Set mostly before the events tof the game. Get ready for lots of second-hand embarrassment sdlfkjds

Support Character by Taliax

Rating: T // Word Count: 1,814 Summary: If Sans is determined to fight the human, Alphys is going to make sure he's prepared. Notes: Sans & Alphys no mercy route friendship, based on the headcanon that Alphys was the one to give Sans the powers/magic he uses to fight the human.

it's your best life (if it's the life that you're living right now) by Taliax

Rating: T // Word Count: 4,046 Summary: Through messages saved to Sans's phone, Queen Alphys gets a glimpse at lives that might have been. With so many possibilities... how did this timeline go so wrong? Notes: Sans & Alphys friendship, Queen Alphys ending, mostly angst/hurt/comfort. I’m really proud of this one and it uses my main headcanon for how Sans knows about resets.

The Trans-Underground Alphys-Carrying, Match-Making Road Trip by Taliax

Rating: G // Word Count: 5,713 Summary: From her secret security camera, Alphys gets too invested in Sans's relationship with the voice behind the door. This wouldn't be a problem if Mettaton didn't decide to take her ship into his own hands. Trying to catch up with a battery-powered robot is hard work, but telling the truth is even harder. Notes: This is a really silly fic with some hurt/comfort sprinkled in. Has some Soriel and Papyton in the background. Has some Alphys & Papyrus friendship as well which is always underrated in my opinion.

#alphys #fic rec list #tali rambles #safeutdr #undertale #long post

154 notes · View notes

rotshop · 3 years

Text

y'all sleep on him so much so if you wont make the content then I will. /threat (/j)

aka i have a headache and i love him and also i kept thinking abt this so ahaaaaa,,poorly written but i have SO many ideas about this so maybe ill do a better version of this later

tw ; talk of / descriptions of body horror, eye horror / bloodshot eyes, possible self harm (in the form of scratching), description of gore / injury, and mouth gore / horror (also possibly a little bit of dissociation)

---

It all started with an anomaly during an experiment. At first, it seemed like nothing big ; it was just a minor error that'd ended up in you being a little sore and tired. All you'd need was some rest and you'd be fine in no time. Hofnarr had been so relieved to hear those words, completely overlooking the out of place nagging at the back of his mind. A small, barely little noticeable drip of another emotion.

Dread.

For a while, it'd seemed like that was the case. For the first day or two you'd been a little bit cramped and groggy but it wasn't anything intense. He remembers making some little joke about it to you in the morning, earning a little eye roll and half hearted threat he'd just laughed at. It never seemed like it would be anything more than just a brief lull in behavior he'd look back on with a small smile. It was nice at the time, just being able to joke about it casually and then go about your days.

Yet, other things started taking it's place once those symptoms had departed. The first thing he noticed was your eyes. He'd gone to ask you about some test you'd conducted with your own lab partner, only to flinch once he'd noticed. You'd seemed dully surprised yourself when he'd quickly asked what was wrong, like you hadn't even noticed how bloodshot your eyes were. He'd made you go see one of the medics there, walking alongside you and holding onto your hand while he questioned you about it.

You'd laughed at how panicked he'd seemed, making him go quiet as he looked over at you. Despite his nerves and how worried he was, he could admit he loved that sound. You'd teased him about it, something about how he'd be a silver fox in days if he kept worrying about you like this. He'd rolled his eyes and gave your hand a squeeze, ignoring the smile that'd broken out and the blood that'd rushed to his face. You two were good at playing off each other like that ; you just fit each other, in simple terms.

The visit to the medic hadn't yielded too much help. They'd taken a look at your eyes and quizzed you on it, noticeably confused by your answers. They had eventually just given a short -half-forced- smile and told you to try and stay away from screens and try some eye drops. It wasn't the best help of course, yet it was probably for the better that it'd been such a simple response. Hofnarr didn't miss how they'd turned to the other medic in the room once you two had left. The medic was visibly distraught as they'd talked to the other, obviously confused. He felt that nagging feeling come back, a little closer this time.

Over the next few days, the redness in your eyes worsened. Every time he came to visit you they looked more and more reddened, till there was no white in your eyes at all. They were just your pupils and iris on a solid, red background. You'd noticed how every time he visited he'd seemed increasingly concerned about your state. You tried to joke it off or at the very least to brush his worries off, giving a small, noticeably tired smile as you reassured him. You were just as lost as him on this, you just didn't want to admit it nor to let him get so worked up over you.

Another thing he'd noticed was the way you scratched at your skin, mainly around your jaw. At first he'd let it slide, only really mentally noting whenever he'd seen before forgetting as you asked him something. Then he noticed how irritated the skin there had gotten, doing his best to try and distract you by grabbing your hand or asking you about the first thing that popped into his mind. It worked to..varying degrees. Eventually, he'd caved in and asked you about it, he'd never forget that look of realization and surprise on your face. You didn't ever notice, not even when you were practically tearing at the flesh, you barely even felt like you were doing it.

You gave each other a brief look, silence permeating the air. Then you laughed, forced and stilted and changed the topic. He wanted to say something more, ask for something, anything really. Yet, as he noticed how tense you were, he realized he wasn't going to get any answers. So, he followed along, forced a smile, and held your hand tighter.

It'd come to a head when he was working with Jeb, you were down the hall and he'd planned on going to check on you once he was done looking over some of their results. The former had been saying something, pointing some trend out but Hof could just barely hear it. Part of him felt guilty that he was barely listening to his friend talk, but..he just couldn't focus. He was blanking all while thinking about everything, accomplishing nothing despite how long he'd spent sitting and losing himself in it. He was sure that it showed, he felt awful that it showed and he wanted it to. He wanted some sort of reassurance from anyone that you'd be alright ; even so, every time someone tried to tell him that, he'd never believed it.

He'd been snapped out of his thoughts once he'd heard the fast clicks on tile, growing closer before passing by the doorway. He'd turned to look at the source of the noise, catching the briefest glimpse of you and your lab partner. You had your head hung and a hand on your face, movement stiff as you did your best to keep up with their pace. They had their arm around you, quickly leading you off somewhere. He felt that dread boil up faster than it ever had before, it was all so wrong.

He'd made some quick excuse to Jeb, something weak and vague before getting up and rushing after you two. The other had made some noise of surprise, attempting to call after him to no avail. It didn't take him too long to catch up, noticing your partner standing outside of the medics office once more. They were stumbling over their words trying to explain something, speaking too quickly to make any kind of sense. Their hands were buried in their hair, making a mess of it as they clutched onto it tightly in some ugly mix of frustration and desperation.

He'd slowed down, staring at the two for a moment as he tried to make any kind of sense of what they were saying. He felt that dread shift into something else, something number yet just as deafening. He'd turned to peer into the room, seeing the other medic grabbing bottles of alcohol and rolls of bandages from cabinets quickly, narrowly avoiding dropping said items in shaky hands. You had your back facing the door, despite that though, you'd apparently known he was there as you turned to look over your shoulder. He could see that same numb feeling in your red eyes, gaze falling lower onto the mess of crimson and stained white.

It'd taken him a moment to process. He felt like he barely even recognized what it was as he stared at you, motionless and expressionless. There was a chunk of flesh and vessels missing from the side of your face, exposing teeth and viscera underneath it. He didn't feel like he was even there in that moment, like at any moment he'd wake up in bed and tell you about it later to hear you laugh. Yet, distantly, he knew it wasn't. He was never that lucky.

That night he'd broke and so had you. He'd convinced you to stay with him, to which you'd agreed without argument. He remembers so vividly holding you close to him, clutching onto you tightly while you did the same to him. You both wanted to say something, something to help or to even just confess. Neither of you did, words falling pale at what they were meant to represent, so you simply stayed and let yourselves be selfish and hoard the other for a time.

Neither of you showed up to work the next day. You knew it was a dumb idea but you couldn't bring yourselves to. You both knew you wouldn't accomplish much more than wandering aimlessly and writing down false information. It was a feeling of cold emptiness neither of you wanted to face without holding the other close for some semblance of warmth.

Overtime things seemed to worsen and worsen, more of your skin fell, your teeth and claws growing sharper and more noticeable, voice getting rougher. Eventually, you'd switched to using short phrases out loud, along with small grunts and other wordless noises to answer questions when you could. At one point you'd broken down, apologizing to Hof for everything you hadn't done, everything you hadn't any hand in or any ability to change. You remember hearing him laugh quietly, warmth returning to him in fullness for a moment a s he held the sides of your face gently, careful as he brushed along the scars that marred your skin. He'd reassured you it was fine, he was happy as long as you were ok, he was happy to do whatever he could to make your life easier, he loved you after-all.

You remember feeling his tears and your own mix when his lips pressed against what was left of yours.

Pain had started to pass even as you continued to change and grow. Even as more of your co-workers who you'd once called friends grew distant from you, some out of fear and others disgust. Even as more people started to view you as something monstrous and horrifying, Hof still thought you were the most breathtaking person he'd seen.

Even now as he stares at the red mockery of the sky that Nevada holds he can't help but smile. He can feel your head resting on his chest, quiet purrs coming from your figure as a tail occasionally twitches behind you. You're still fast asleep, quietly content to rest a while longer. He finds himself letting go of a breath he didn't know he was holding as he looks down at you once more. This is happiness.

#the ending is so weak but i haev a migraine SOOOOOO (crushes you like a soda can) /j #dr hoffnarr x reader #dr hofnarr x reader #would this count as tricky x reader. i dont think so. yeah no #madness combat x reader #madness combat imagines #madcom x reader #madcom imagines #please heed the warnings though #rot writes

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heartsofbeskar · 3 years

Text

pulsing star

one — decay

physicist!reader x din djarin

warnings: possible language

words: 3.3K

series masterlist | writing masterlist

a/n: so sorry this took me so damn long to finally publish! it has been burning an absolute hole in my mind for well over a month now, and im so happy i finally had the inspo to finish the first part! so many thanks to jess @pedros-mustache for inspiring me and letting me bounce questions off her❤️

The taste of metal and some foreign plastic filled your mouth as you chewed gently on the end of your pen.

Girl, you’ll give yourself metal poisoning that way.

You could hear your former mentor’s voice in your ear, despite the nearly empty cantina you sat in. The bar droid slowly worked its way through cleaning glassware from the night before, the rhythm of the light tinkling providing a steady background to your work.

Papers were spread out around you, notebooks thrown open haphazardly, some with half finished theorems or calculations, before you’d be interrupted by yet another thought you had to instantly write down, lest you forget it.

You hadn’t been on Nevarro long, and you swiped at the back of your neck, where sweat had gathered. Maker, you found yourself having to shower every day you were here, the combination of sweat and dust creating an uncomfortable film that settled on you by the end of each day.

It was better than the standard month you’d spent on Hoth, you supposed. And there was no denying the geophysical characteristics of Nevarro were fascinating, with active lava flows and geothermal anomalies. It made your stomach do flips thinking about monitoring the temperature gradients and flow patterns. You’d not seen anything comparable in the Mid or Inner Rims.

And, maybe, the truth was that you preferred the Outer Rim for more reasons than untapped research avenues. Maybe you enjoyed the way you could travel for miles and miles and not see another sentient being. Maybe you enjoyed the isolated towns that seemed to exist within their own version of a universe, separate from the one you knew and studied. Maybe it was how settled some of the people in the Outer Rim appeared to be, how at home this part of the galaxy was for them; a peace they exuded that you could never quite grasp.

You didn’t look up as there was a loud scrape of the stool against the concrete floor of the establishment immediately to your right. The thought occurred to you a moment later that your papers were probably strewn over the bartop there, however, so with a slight twinge of annoyance — the cantina was practically empty for Maker’s sake, why did someone sit right next to you? — you reached forward to gather your materials that had spilled over to that area.

With a start, you saw who had sitten down there. You recognized the armour instantly, the distinct lines of the chestplate, the mechanical structure mounted on the forearm, the characteristic visor inset into a chrome helmet. A Mandalorian. Your hands stilled where they were reaching over the multitude of papers, mouth falling open slightly.

Thoughts ran through your head like fathiers on a racetrack, pulling up a dozen paragraphs from galactic historical texts and war documents you had spent nights pouring over.

Culturally a clan-based society, composed of members from various species, some of whom are brought into clan groups as children. Clans are bound to a common culture through a ‘Creed’ they typically swear at the entrance to adulthood.

Many Mandalorians met a gruesome fate at the hands of the Galactic Empire during what is deemed as ‘The Great Purge.’ Many beskar reserves were stolen, as well.

It seemed surreal that a Mandalorian was sitting beside you, now, in this dusty Nevarro cantina. And you … were staring at him.

“Can I help you with something?” A voice emerged from behind the helmet, low and rough and modulated through an obvious vocoder. You weren’t sure what you had expected, but the sound sent a jolt through you, energy shooting from the top of your scalp to the very tips of your fingers, down your legs, to the soles of your feet.

The Mandalorian was waiting for a response.

“Oh, um … sorry!” You shook your head, continuing to move to gather your papers. “It’s just I’ve never seen a Mandalorian before. Not in person, I mean, of course I’ve seen lots of holo-images, the armour patterns between clans specifically is such an interesting study, and the history of course is just so rich. That’s real beskar, right?”

You were pointing towards the shoulder pauldron nearest you, which shone like the rest of the pieces of armour he wore, and was adorned with the side profile of a mudhorn. The familiar pleasant tingles of curiosity were firing inside your brain as you took him in, and you suppressed the urge to reach out and touch the material.

The Mandalorian tilted his head forward in a nod rather than speaking. You could feel how wide your eyes were as you took in all the details of him, but you really couldn’t help yourself.

“Do you know the melting point?” You shuffled the papers with little care onto whatever you’d just been working on, leaning in closer to the man beside you unconsciously. “I have read some super interesting studies put out by the Coruscant Engineering Society on the potential durability of it as a superconductor in ship cores; how it could really improve the lifetime of engines in general. Really cool stuff, though all theoretical work so far.”

“It’s beskar,” he said simply. “It doesn’t melt. Not that I’ve seen.”

“Right,” you nodded. You searched for a blank paper in the chaos, pulling the first one you found towards you. “Do you have even an estimate of the maximum temperature exposure you’ve seen it hold up under?”

He leaned back into the stool, arm relaxing somewhat as he seemed to consider it. “Probably … a few hundred standard degrees?”

Eyebrows raised, you scribbled some notes down, folding over the paper and tucking it into one of the notebooks piled in front of you. The Mandalorian’s helmet moved marginally, visor tilted towards your spread of work.

“I’ve got a couple of friends on Coruscant, and even just a lower limit of heat resistance should be super helpful for them,” you chatted excitedly. But the next second you froze, hands stilling again as you looked at the man with a concerned expression now. “Unless that’s … not okay? I can get rid of that if it’s—”

He cut off your rambling with a wave of his gloved hand, a huff from behind the helmet. “No, it’s … it’s fine. What … are you working on? It looks like a lot.”

You beamed at him, smiling wide and almost bouncing in your seat as you unearthed the latest pages you’d been working. “Well, Nevarro has a ton of interesting volcanic formations, there’s nothing like it in the galaxy, really. I’d love to do some mapping of the underground flows surrounding the city — I just need to get a speeder bike so I can get out there, which has been more difficult than I expected, frankly. And then there’s already been some studies of the radioactive formations around—”

Again, he cut you off. “You’re telling me you plan to go out into the lava flows on a speeder bike? Alone?”

—

That was how you ended up on the back of a speeder bike, arms tentatively wrapped around an armoured Mandalorian.

He was a strange macrocosm of contradiction; hard and unyielding beskar atop soft and warm flesh, and you tried to stop your hands from wandering along the edges of where metal met man, to study the contours of him as he fit together with his shell.

It was hot.

You were ultimately grateful he had extended such a generous offer to drive you out to the flats. The sun beat down in a harsh high noon glare, and the horizon watered ahead of you in the tumultuous air currents that liked to play tricks on the human eye. You were quite sure it would have been exceedingly easy for you to get lost on your own out here.

A bead of sweat blazed a steady trail down your back, journeying from the nape of your neck, bursting from the small gathering of hair that had escaped your ponytail, immersing itself into the thin fabric of your tunic to settle between your shoulder blades. It was joined there by others, and you fought the urge to reach a hand to pull the material away from your skin, but you knew if you let go of the man driving you surely would risk flying off the speeder all together, embarrassing yourself in front of him even further.

His hands — clad in leather gloves, their colours long ago faded — flexed on the handles.

Riding a speeder behind a Mandalorian was somehow not even the strangest part of your day. No, that particular distinction had to go to the fact that the Mandalorian … had a son.

He’d gestured for you to wait not long after you’d left the cantina, your supplies haphazardly stuffed into your burlap duffel bag. The man made a beeline for a group of children playing in the nearby school yard, and as surprised as you were to see none of them cower to his imposing presence, so much larger than any of them, you’d been even more surprised when he’d crouched down, far down, and picked up one of said children. He was so small you hadn’t even seen him at first, miniature green arms outstretched to the Mandalorian, who he was clearly familiar with and fond of. He nodded at some of the children, even patting one gently if not a little awkwardly on the head. You smiled, watching. As a clan culture, you knew Mandalorians were family oriented, children placed in the highest regard … but you also knew from reading that they were isolated now, Mandalorians scattered across the galaxy like dust to the wind.

It was nice to see at least one who had managed to compose a semblance of family again.

You were, as usual, bursting with questions. You tried your best to let them out at somewhat appropriate intervals as you made your way to the edge of town with him and the small being he held tenderly.

“Are you the same species?”

“Does he have heightened hearing sensitivity, or is the size of his ears mainly cosmetic?”

“Can he see outside the visible spectrum?”

“Or wait— is it the opposite? Does the size of his eyes necessitate a restricted spectrum, so as not to overstimulate his optic nerves?”

Finally, “He’s my foundling.” So, not the same species, you presumed. Not that you would hold it against him to be green under all the armour. That’d be more interesting than other humans you came across, at least.

It was clear that was all you were getting, so you bit your tongue, and vowed to yourself to try and be unintrusive. Try.

You peeked back at the small being. He was secured tightly into the rear basket of the speeder, long ears flapping comically in the increased wind. It didn’t seem to bother him, though, a smile exposing a row of tiny teeth inside his mouth. You had to giggle at the sight. As you turned your head forward again, you thought you saw the helmet of the man in front of you turn slightly to the side at the sound. But, maybe you just imagined it.

The wind slowed around you as he brought the speeder to crawl and then a stop at the coordinates you had given him. He didn’t speak as you, somewhat awkwardly, clambered off of the back of the vehicle, carefully avoiding the now babbling child attached to the side.

A large outcrop of rock rose from the ground, a sharp interruption to the barren landscape, and you squinted into the sun as you circled the formation, looking for the best access to the top.

You clambered up an uneven incline. Rocks and sand displaced under your hands and feet, but you maintained a balance as you climbed.

Until a particularly large rock, which had looked immovable, broke loose, sending your leg reeling down with it, and your entire body sailing backwards through the warm air, hands untethered as you’d searched for a hold. You tensed, eyes closing, bracing yourself for a collision with the sharp, hot rocks that made up the planet’s surface.

It never came.

Instead your back met suddenly with a solid, flat expanse, and it didn’t take even a moment for you to know it was the Mandalorian’s chest. Broad and unyielding, you heard a low chuckle from the modulated helm.

“You should be more careful, you know.”

A nervous laugh escaped your lips, and the space between his breastplate and the rock seemed to be rapidly closing in. Your hands were slippery as you tried to find purchase again, and you struggled to find your grip a second time.

He shifted behind you, an arm coming up to frame yours. The leather glove covered your sweaty skin, guiding your hand to a stable gap between rocks. Your fingers wiggled easily into the space, allowing you to pull yourself forward from the man supporting your weight.

“Thanks,” you breathed out. Your own voice sounded lightyears away, floating past your ears from some distant galaxy with things unknown.

He didn’t answer you, unsurprisingly. As you pulled yourself further up the incline, re-established now in your footing, his hand slid smoothly to your waist, lightly holding there until you’d ascended past his position. You repressed a shiver. His son cooed distinctly.

The top offered an expansive and brilliant view of the surrounding area, jarred rocky edges and smooth fresh cooled magma contrasting one another for miles around. You could see the speeder down below, looking miniature now. You took a moment to collect fresh air into your lungs. It was dry, crackling on the journey down your windpipe.

With a grunt, your Mandalorian companion smoothly joined you. You half expected to see a sheen of sweat cling to his armour as if it were his own skin, but neither sweat nor heavy breath gave away his recent physical efforts. You looked away.

His eyes seemed to bore holes into your skin as you set up your equipment; an unsophisticated semblance of boxes and wires you balanced haphazardly on the uneven surfaces. How you could feel his gaze, a secret he held, meant to be hidden behind a visor of pitch black glass, you weren’t sure. It didn’t make much sense. You supposed it was a psychological effect, your own senses so unused to having any company.

But you could still feel it.

His son toddled over, short legs resulting in equally short strides and combined with his burlap tunic that met the ground, he seemed to positively glide towards you. You smiled at him, and he returned the expression. His head tilted adorable to the side as he surveyed your area, and you watched him idly from your peripheral vision as you continued, only giving a start when he reached for the small capsule you’d just unwrapped.

“No, no, no!” you chastised, lunging forward. His eyes grew, startled at your sudden moves, and he didn’t resist when you plucked the calibration source from his small claws, where it had hovered perilously close to his mouth. “That’s radioactive, we don’t want that in your mouth, okay?”

He just stared back at you, eyes wide, unblinking and clearly not registering any understanding. You glanced at his father, but he stood tall and impassive to his son’s action, helm scanning the landscape idly. Maybe… mischievousness was a characteristic of the green species.

With the Mandalorian clearly more at ease — did he ever get relaxed, really? Maybe you could ask — you dared to lift the small being from the dusty ground, and his face remained quizzical as you tucked him against your arm. Still, your companion didn’t stir in discontent. The baby giggled happily.

You spoke to him in a low tone as you finished your set up, describing in detail your sensor and dark tent as you maneuvered it to sit as evenly as possible.

“The magma flows below the surface contain heavy concentrations of an element called iridium, have you heard of that?” Another blank head tilt. “It decays into carbon and nitrogen products with a gamma ray of this signature energy, so by looking for events that peak with that energy exactly … I can try to trace the flows even when they’re all the way down in the ground!”

He cooed in delight, though you knew it was likely only in response to the excitement in your tone.

The afternoon swept by, as you adjusted and readjusted and adjusted again, slowly and methodically making your way across the surface of the rocks. The ground was warm under your hands, borderline hot, but it was only a trickle in the faucet of your mind as you worked.

The Mandalorian’s son had grown tired where he’d been nestled in the crook of your arm, ears drooping and eyelids shutting in a way that made your heart seize in your chest, electrical impulses of the organ abruptly stopping. You set him down in a nest of soft items, and you saw from the corner of your eye the Mandalorian lean down and adjust it a few times.

Sun dipping lower and lower in the sky, eventually you felt a heavy hand on your shoulder, fingers squeezing firmly but not tightly.

“We should head back,” he said, not unkindly. Your eyes skimmed the horizon, startled to see the sunset you had thought to be so many hours off. A drop of guilt formed in your stomach as you glanced back at his sleeping son.

“I’m so sorry!” you blurted, trying to keep your voice low as you could. The baby didn’t stir. “You should have told me sooner, I just— I get so focused on these things, you know?”

He nodded, but you weren’t sure he did know. You scrambled to once more pack away all of your equipment, and he leaned down to help you. His hands hovered, unsure, over the various components, and when he picked them up it was with a gentle touch uncharacteristic to his appearance, obviously afraid to break what he touched.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. You held up a semi transparent block that had spent most of the time hidden under the completely opaque black cloth you began to wrap it in. “This is the only delicate piece; it's a manufactured single crystal scintillator, it’s what responds to the radiation from the metals in the magma.”

His head tilted almost imperceptibly to the side. It was a curious mirror of his own, you thought to yourself.

“Why do you … do all this?” he asked. His voice was rough, rougher than it had been only moments ago, and your brows drew together as your mind reeled to understand the change.

“I just… I don’t know,” you said with a sigh. It was the honest answer. “I want to know, I suppose.”

And that want to know had spurred you on for as long as you could remember, from when your tiny infant feet first hit the hard ground. You were always searching, looking, longing …. for something. You weren’t sure if it was something you would ever find, and sometimes — when you were alone in the dark of a hotel or a borrowed bedroom — you worried you would never find it in all your life.

“Are there scientists on Mandalore?” you asked, voice quiet. You didn’t want to overstep.

His fingers flexed over the cord he was wrapping into a loop. You worried you’d made him angry but when he spoke, his tone was soft. “I don’t know. I’ve never been.”

He didn’t speak again as he helped you load the speeder for the return to town.

🪐🪐🪐

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103 notes · View notes

sunlight-moonrise · 4 years

Text

The Price (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Reader is a technical analyst for the BAU. She did not expect to be smitten by the resident genius.

A/N: This is my first time writing a fic as well as my first time writing smut. I’d like to thank @spencer-reid-in-a-pool for beta reading my work (you’re a gem and I’ll fight for you). Also a quick thank you to @imagining-in-the-margins and those in the discord for being so welcoming and helping me with this. The fic is inspired by @erin-bo-berin Sweet Cheeks.

Category: Fluff and Smut

Content Warnings: Oral (female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, rough sex

Word Count: 6.0K

Masterlist

There are a lot of things I enjoy about this job. The salary is decent. My coworkers are pretty cool. I get to interact with a sexy genius from time to time- you know, the usual that comes with being employed by the government.

I started as a technical analyst for the BAU a few months prior, working alongside the one and only Penelope Garcia with assisting the rest of the team behind some computer screens. Coding and hacking is second nature to me so the job is not too difficult. It was either this or facing some years in jail because I couldn’t cover my tracks fast enough. Looking at mangled and mutilated bodies on a weekly basis is better than prison.

I get along rather well with the team. I pretty much call everyone by a term of endearment, much to Garcia’s delight. It was one of the things we had in common and helped us get along with one another much faster. I sometimes can get carried away with the innuendos, but Garcia welcomes everything I say with open arms.

I typically save my more sensual remarks for the doctor. I remember the good old days when he used to be so tongue-tied by my actions. Now my words barely surprises him.

A voice broke my concentration. “What got you thinking so hard, angel?” I turn towards the person, a smile already adorning my face. Lo and behold, Dr. Spencer Reid has graced me with his delectable presence.

“Would you believe me if I said that I was thinking of you Doc?” He had a small smile on his face. I could pretty much categorize all the smiles he uses because of how often I stare at him. I mean, it is a tragedy to not stare at such beauty. This particular smile means that he is content and comfortable.

“May I ask exactly what it was that you were thinking about?” he asked.

“I cannot share the sordid details of my mind with you just yet darling. You’ll just have to use that beautiful mind of yours and conjure up something imaginative.”

He let out a small laugh and helped me carry the files I was juggling. My eyes immediately went to his hands. The things I’ll let those hands do to me. I bet only one is needed to perfectly wrap around my -- No bitch, focus. We got a case to present in five minutes. Right, right. Work now, daydream later.

We entered the conference room, where the rest of the team was already sitting at the round table, waiting for us. I gave out the files with Spencer’s help while Penelope started up the monitor.

“You guys are staying local but time is of the essence” she informed us. The TV lit up with four pictures of young boys. “We have a kidnapping case at Stafford County.”

“Were they kidnapped at the same time or place?” asked JJ as she skimmed over the report I handed out earlier.

“No” I said as I pointed to the two younger boys on the screen. “Jacob Rivers and David Hall were taken from their respective homes 48 hours ago” I then pointed to the two slightly older boys “Benjamin Harris was taken 12 hours ago at a park and Scott Turner was taken from the mall less than 6 hours ago.”

“Do these boys have anything in common?” Morgan asked out loud.

“Other than physical appearance and age group, these boys don’t have any similarities. They didn’t even go to the same school. As a matter of fact, David Hall was home-schooled.” replied Garcia.

“Garcia and I couldn’t find any common ground in the families’ educational, economic, or social backgrounds either” I added. “Once you guys take off, we’ll do a further dive into their personal histories.”

“The UnSub is already escalating, kidnapping from a private home and kidnapping from a crowded area within hours of each event is fairly drastic” Rossi stated.

“Maybe the Unsub is on a time frame? They could be feeling pressured and desperate” Emily questioned, trying to come up with some kind of initial profile.

Hotch already started standing up. “We’ll know more after analyzing the crime scenes and talking to local PD. Let’s head out.” The rest of the team followed, gathering their files and making an exit towards the door while Garcia headed for our office. Spencer lagged behind a bit and I already knew why. We have a little tradition of bidding farewell to one another before he takes off for a case.

I stood next to him, bumping my shoulder against his upper arm. “Don’t miss me too much while you are out there.”

“The more you remind me I have to leave, the more I want to stay here.” he grinned.

I snorted at his words, knowing that he was full of shit. There is nothing more that Reid loves than being out in the field. “Go be a hero and come back to me in one piece pretty boy.”

“Yes Ma’am.” he replied as he went to follow the team towards the elevator.

I swear that boy is immune to my teasing now. I miss seeing his face become flush, but I also enjoy the playful repartee we have now. I remember the first interaction I had with Spencer quite vividly. It truly was a comical moment.

“Everyone this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She will be working alongside Garcia.” Hotch stated as he introduced me to the team. I have already met him and Penelope prior to being presented to everyone else.

“Derek Morgan, pleasure to meet you.” Whoa. If tall, dark, and handsome was a person, Morgan would be fit for the role. He offered his hand, which I immediately took.

“The pleasure is all mine” I replied with a wide smile.

I directed my attention to a much older gentleman. “David Rossi” said the Italian man who reminded me of a mob boss.

“Charmed to meet you.” I shook his hand, surprised by the strength behind it. Those older bones are still working for him.

Next came the petite blonde, whose figure I was both envious and enamored with. “Jennifer Jareau, but everyone here calls me JJ for short.”

“In that case, please call me (Y/N/N).” I shook her hand, and became even more envious with how soft her skin was. She has got to tell me her secrets.

I focused on the brunette with shoulder-length hair. “Emily Prentiss”. My God, I think being attractive is a requirement for this team. She offered her hand to shake and her grip was firm. Note to self, forget about Rossi; don’t get on Emily’s bad side.

“Nice to meet you.”

I turned to the final individual and was blown away by his beauty. Yup, my previous thought has been confirmed. Only good-looking people are allowed pass these doors. His bone structure looked like it was sculpted by Roman artists. His body was lean and slender, reminding me of a runner’s physique. My eyes stared up to the softest hazel eyes I have ever seen.

“Dr. Spencer Reid.” he introduced. I offered my hand immediately, wanting to feel his skin against mine.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), but you already knew that,” I said softly, my hand still out. He just stared at it as if it was an anomaly.

“Uh-the amount of pathogens passed through a handshake is astounding. A high five transmit half the number. But even then, a kiss is much more safe.” he quickly stated as he nodded his head. I almost didn’t catch any of it. Partially because of the rapid speech, partially because I was staring at his lips.

“Hmm, that’s news to me. However, if a kiss is what you want…” I lowered my hand and took a step closer to him. My eyes slowly moved from his eyes to his mouth and then back up. He took a slight step back.

“N-N-No, that’s not—I-I mean that —uhh...” His face was flushed and his tongue shot out to run against his lips. His eyes quickly darted across the room, seeking some help. I felt a sense of pride knowing I made this man flustered.

“I’m just teasing Doc.” If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was frightened by me. Maybe he was, but the blush on his face and the way he kept staring gave me further information on him.

“Don’t mind Reid,” Morgan said, coming to the young man’s rescue. “He has a thing with germs.” He finished, a smirk plastered on his face. Well, I hope he soon develops a thing for something else. Or rather someone else.

I was just about to make another sly comment when Hotch interrupted. “Back to the case at hand.” He gave us all a pointed look. Right, I am at my first day at work. I’ll focus on hot doctors with hotter smiles and the hottest face at my own time.

“Yes sir,” Garcia stated, as she started pushing buttons on a remote. The TV turned on and pictures of three different women showed up on the screen. They all looked to be strangled to death. “You guys are needed in Toledo, Ohio.” Garcia goes on to describe the case while the team starts the early stages of conducting a profile.

“Wheels up in 30.” Hotch says and the everyone disperses. Garcia walked up to me and handed me some documents from the case file.

“C’mon cupcake, we gotta do some preliminary work to get the case going much faster.” I followed her to what she called the “bat cave”. I scanned the small room and immediately fell in love. Computers and monitors littered almost every inch of the place. I saw a lot of colorful knickknacks displayed on one side of the desk, knowing already who they belonged to. The area was endearing and had a cozy feel to it.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding. This place is a dream come true.” I am sure she can hear the awe in my voice.

“I know, right. Wait until you actually use it girlie, the framework on these things is out of this world.” I sat myself on a chair nearby and rolled in front of a screen.

“Alrighty. You can do some background checks on these girls while I gather more information from the police reports. Let me know if there are any commonalities among any of them. We’ll relay that info with the team.”

“Gotcha babe, I’ll have the information ready ASAP.” I responded, already typing away on the computer. I’m already starting to like it here.

*Later that day*

Garcia and I haven’t found much in common between the victims of the crimes, much to our dismay. I was left in the office to continue searching for important information on the girls while she went to fax some data to the precinct when the phone started to ring.

I quickly answered and put it on speaker. “(Y/L/N) at your humble service. How may I serve you?”

“Oh-uh is Garcia around” replied a high-pitched voice, which I immediately recognized as Reid. I don’t know whether or not I should be insulted that he wanted Penelope or pleased that I probably still have him flustered.

“She’s a bit pre-occupied at the moment. But rest assured I can find whatever you need Doc. Especially if you ask nicely.”

“Uh-I need you to pull up information on the mothers. We think they were all in the same sorority, however not necessarily at the same time. We need a list of all the members of the sorority from the time the mothers joined with a 3-year pre- and post-graduation.”

“No problemo sweetness. Anything else I can do for you? I have a lot of other services that can be helpful.” I stated, a teasing tone in my voice as I already set up my search.

“No-no, that’s all. Um thanks.” I can already picture the blush coating his cheeks as he stammered his response.

“Alright love, call me back if you need anything. Or if you change your mind.” I hung up the phone and started organizing the list in front of me.

And from then on, I have enjoyed pretty much all the moments I had with the BAU. It took some time, but Spencer now has accepted and even returned my little flirtations. We often get compared to Garcia and Morgan. But with a lot more sexual tension, at least on my end. I have to remind myself from time to time to calm down before I combust in the middle of a conference room or the bullpen. C'est la vie.

I made my way to the cavern of all things amazing and settled in front of my computers. Pen looked at me with a knowing expression on her face. “You’re gloomy.”

I pouted as I put my earpiece on. “I am not gloomy, I am horny,” I rebuked.

“How long has it been since you got some?”

“I’m not sure but it feels like I have not gotten any since the Stone Age,” I groaned out.

“I don’t know why you don’t just tell him how you feel,” she pointed her pink glittery pen in my direction, “I bet he would fuck you right here if you let him.”

And there goes my thought process, as always, overtaken by Spencer Reid. “Babe, please. This is not helping my situation.”

“Just telling you how it is.”

●●●

We have been sitting in front of these screens for hours. The team has made some progress but they’re missing an important piece to fit the puzzle. Garcia has been looking into the background of the neighbors when I heard a small stomach grumble coming from her direction. I let out a laugh as she huffed out “I am going to grab a snack from the breakroom, you want anything boo?”

“If it ain’t alcohol or chocolate, I don’t want it.”

“Noted,” she said as she left the room. I really hope she finds a couple of cupcakes or something.

I continued trying to get information on these missing kids when my headpiece played the Doctor Who theme song, informing me that Einstein was calling in. “Goddess of knowledge and wisdom at your disposal.”

“I didn’t know I had Athena at my fingertips.” How is it possible that nine words have short-circuited my brain just now? Is it the voice or the way he basically called me a Greek Deity? Probably both.

Of course I slyly responded, “Oh my Hephaestus, you have all of me at your fingertips.” I heard a chuckle and I immediately knew it belonged to Morgan. A slight blush crept onto my cheeks when I heard a random voice asking why Spencer called his girlfriend in the middle of a case.

“I should have mentioned that you were on speakerphone.”

“Naughty boy, you know I charge extra for groups.” Now this was followed by some choked out noises and a bunch of giggles. I could only assume the whole precinct was amused by my antics at this point.

“Can you ever forgive me?”

“I can, for a price.”

“A price?”

“Yes, a price that I would inform you of in private. Now the reason for your call…” I drew out. Thank goodness Garcia wasn’t here. I don’t need her looking at me as if I am a phone sex operator.

“I need you to check foster children between the ages of four and eight within a 25-mile radius. We are looking for a homosexual couple that were looking to adopt but were rejected. The names should be on multiple applications among different sites. Let me know what you find.”

“I’ll have that information at the palm of your hands soon” Meanwhile, I am over here wishing that I was at the palm of his hands.

“Thank you, my Goddess” I can’t help but smile when he says things like this. Since when were the roles reversed in our friendship?

“Anything for a gorgeous worshipper. TTYL.”

Garcia chose that moment to walk back in while I had this silly grin on my face. She stared at me and I already knew what she was going to say.

“If you don’t have a piece of chocolate or a cocktail on you, I am not talking.”

All she did was laugh at me.

●●●

The team was able to find all four boys safely. The UnSubs were a male couple who wanted to adopt but kept facing discrimination against the agencies. It is a shame that they felt they had to resort to kidnapping in order to have a family.

Now Garcia and I are scanning the notes the team faxed to us earlier today. They informed us that they would be back here in half an hour or so.

“Shoot, I didn’t think it would take this long to scan these damn files.” Garcia murmured. I looked over at her and saw a small stack of documents that still needed to be put into the system.

I walked over and grabbed the pile from her. “Go, I’ll take care of it from here doll.”

“Are you sure? I feel bad. You did your portion of the work already.”

“Don’t you have to be at the rehearsal in 20 minutes? How is the theater going to operate without their main lead?” I placed the documents on my side of the desk and moved to gather Garcia’s belongings. I picked up her purse and jacket before handing it to her, quickly pushing her towards the door. “I got this, think of it as an IOU.”

“Yes, yes, yes, I owe you big. Thank you sugar, see you tomorrow.” Garcia hurriedly exited the door and headed towards the elevator.

I looked towards the papers, a low groan leaving my mouth. The faster I go through this, the better.

●●●

I was just finished implementing all the documents into the computer when I heard a knock at the door. I turned around and saw Spencer’s head peeking through. “Evening handsome, to what do I owe this visit?”

“Garcia passed by me a while ago and informed me you were in here finishing some extra work. I wanted to check on you; see if you needed my help.”

“Thanks Doc, but you’re a few minutes too late. I already finished scanning the files. Besides, you’re not the best with technology, much less these computers.”

“Maybe not. But I am a fast learner and I pay close attention to detail.” Either my ears were playing a trick on me or Spencer’s voice lowered an octave or two.

I remembered what Penelope said earlier today and decided to just go for it. “I could collect on that price from earlier.” I leaned against the desk and stared into his eyes. C’mon Doc, pick up the hint. Rather, pick me up instead.

“Well I was thinking that I can get you dinner.” he said, a hint of excitement in his voice.

That’s great, but not what I had in mind. “I was hoping for something else” I looked into his eyes, then slowly trailed my eyes downwards. Kiss me. Kiss me. Touch me. Lick me. Fuck me. Kiss me.

Unfortunately, Spencer is not a mind reader. He lowered his head and looked slightly dejected. “Oh well umm—would you prefer to go to a theater?” Oh Doc, you sexy, naïve, intelligent, innocent man. I guess if you want something you have to do it yourself.

I sat on the edge of my desk. “Come here Spencer.”

His head perked up, slightly intrigued since I rarely call him by his name. He walked to where I was sitting but there was still space between us.

“Closer, I don’t bite.” Unless you want me to.

He moved closer to me and I was able to rest my hands on his shoulders. Thankfully the height of the table let us be more at level with one another.

I made sure to look into his eyes as I said “I am going to kiss you. If that isn’t something you want, tell me now.”

He was speechless. His mouth was moving but no sounds came out. If the circumstances were different I would have appreciated seeing his rattled expression once more. I waited a few seconds, but he still has yet to say anything.

“Spen-mmh” before I knew it, his mouth was upon mine. He gently cradled my face as his lips moved against my own. My eyes closed as I felt nothing but bliss. As cliché as it sounds, I was in paradise because of this kiss alone.

His tongue peeked and swiped against my lower lip, trying to have a taste of me. I was more than happy to grant him entrance, a moan leaving my body as his tongue touched mine.

All parts of me were trying to feel him. I had one hand in his hair while the other grabbed onto the back of his shirt. My chest was pressed against his while my legs lazily wrapped around his midsection. His scent was intoxicating to me. It was a coffee-like smell as if he just walked out of a café. He tasted so sweet, all I wanted to do was keep his mouth on mine. But my body needed air so I slowly pulled away.

He tried to catch his breath as his forehead rested against mine. “So you don’t want dinner?”

“Doc the only thing I am hungry for right now is you. We’ll get food afterward, alright?” Spencer nodded his head while licking his lips. My eyes hungrily followed the action and I just had to get another taste. I pulled him towards me, his hands once again holding onto my face. He was much more dominant with this kiss, and I was more than willing to give him the control. His hands then trailed down to my hips and pulled me closer to his pelvis. I jerked against him and was rewarded with a groan.

He squeezed me tighter as his lips broke away from mine once more. He placed a peck on my lips, then my cheek before trailing down my neck. I felt my body heat up as I released a small moan. Fucking hell, he is going to be the death of me and we barely did anything.

Spencer started to lightly nibble on my neck when I pulled him back by his hair. “It is summer and I am not wearing a turtleneck in 80° weather. If you’re gonna give me some hickeys, they better be on my chest.” He murmured something that I couldn’t quite comprehend before undoing the buttons of my blouse.

Hell, I am not the only one who is gonna be undressed so I started unbuttoning his dress shirt as well. It was a race to see who would get the other’s shirt off first. Of course I lost because my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. But when his warm lips kissed their way towards the middle of my cleavage, I felt like a fucking champion.

I tried my best to shimmy out of the sleeves of my blouse while Spencer attempted to take my bra off, his lips still leaving a love mark against my chest. Once we got rid of the shirt and the bra, his mouth immediately enveloped one of my nipples.

“Fuck” I yelped loudly, “a little warning next time Doc.”

“Sorry” he muttered as he continued to suck on my breast while palming the other between his dexterous fingers. That had to be the most insincere apology I have ever heard from him. An idea came across my head. I slowly removed his shirt, watching it pool on the floor. I then raked the nails of one hand across his chest while the other pulled against his hair. Hard. He retaliated by lightly biting my nipple. Fuck, the plan backfired. Abort mission, abort the damn mission.

Spencer let out a small chuckle as he pulled away from my breast, an audible pop leaving his mouth. My hands went to his face and I moved him up to look at me. His eyes were dilated and his mouth was swollen. His face was flush and he was taking deeper breaths than usual. He looked so beautiful like this.

He had a dorky smile on his face and I realized that I said the words out loud. I felt my face heat up fast and he swiftly commented “I’d never thought I’d see you be so thrown off because of me.”

He rested his hands against either side of the desk and just looked at me. “Shut up and kiss me.” I hissed, already missing the warmth of his skin against mine.

“Where do you want me to kiss you?” he asked. I was about to reply when he interrupted “Do you want me to kiss you on your lips? Or maybe you want me back on those beautiful breasts of yours?”

Have mercy on me, I never believed Spencer Reid could make me so wet just with his words. Sure, I thought of it, but I didn’t believe it would happen to me.

“Maybe you want me to go lower. Should I place my lips on that pussy of yours?” Oh my fuck, I never want this moment to end. I nodded my head so quickly, I could have sworn I given myself whiplash.

“I want to hear you say it,” he breathed out.

“Yes, yes, please. I want you to eat my pussy. Please.” I begged. Dignity be damned.

“That’s my good girl” How is it possible that he went from the dorky adorable doctor to this assertive, stimulating specimen in a matter of minutes? I didn’t think he had a sensual bone in his body. But I am glad to be proven wrong.

Spencer lowered himself to his knees while I clumsily attempted to rid myself of my skirt and panties. I lifted my lower body up as he pulled the clothing off of me. Penelope would have a field day if she knew that I was sitting butt naked on the desk with Spencer Reid between my legs. Hell, I am having a field day knowing this.

Spencer, being the teasing bastard that he has been for the past few minutes, started kissing my legs first. “That’s not where I said I wanted you to kiss me” I huffed out.

“Hush” was all he said as he continued the slow trail up, making sure to alternate between each leg. I was already breathing as if I have ran a marathon, my patience was waning at this point. Finally, he made his way to where I needed him most. He put his hands on my thighs and pushed them further apart.

My hands landed on top of his head, playing with the curls. “You’re comfortable down there Doc?” I snickered, loving the sight of his head between my legs. All he did was nip my inner thigh harshly. I shrieked at the action. I’m starting to think this man has a tiny biting fetish.

I wasn’t ready for when his tongue parted my folds. I squeaked as he teasingly lapped the arousal that had formed the second he walked into the room. I tried rolling my hips but his hands made me stay put on the desk. I never knew he could hold me down like this. I couldn’t even be mad because the pleasure he was giving me was incredible.

Spencer continued to tease me, his tongue never going where I needed it most. He made sure to explore as much as possible as leisurely as possible. “Spencer, please” I cried out. He let out a small hum, the vibration causing a shiver to rack my body.

His tongue finally entered me, much to my delight. No amount of imagination could have ever prepared me for the things this appendage can do to me. He continued this soft, flat movement that was driving me crazy. My hands tightened in his hair, hoping he would go a bit faster.

“You taste so good princess, I don’t want this to end.”

“That’s my Queen to you” I jested. He didn’t like that since he responded with a resounding smack against my outer thigh. Ouch, note to self, Spencer doesn’t like being teased during sexy times. Hmm. On second thought, continue to tease Spencer during sexy times.

I felt his finger probe my entrance, moving up and down before pushing inside of me. I let out a distressing whine as he started slowly moving his finger in and out of me, curling as he did so. His mouth was on my clit, sucking and kissing it as if he has done so all his life.

My body started heating up and trembling. I tried, and failed, to roll my hips against the movement. “Spe-Spencer” I wailed. He didn’t relent.

Spencer entered a second finger into me as his tongue gave small, flickering motions against my bundle of nerves. I had to move one hand to my mouth to prevent any loud noises from being heard outside the room. Shit, did we even lock the door?

That thought immediately left my mind as my core started to tighten. Spencer must have known that I was getting close to my orgasm because he moved his fingers more diligently within me. I felt his fingers curl as they pulled out, I felt his tongue lick thoroughly against my pearl, I felt my ecstasy rising within me. It took one more deep press of his fingers and a harsh suck for me to come all over his face. I bit down on my fingers as I moaned out loud.

“That was so much better then what I imagined” I panted out, the words barely coming out comprehensible. I had a giant smile decorating my face.

He pulled his face up, a smug grin gracing his face. “Is this what you were thinking about earlier this morning?” he taunted. I couldn’t even give him a smartass remark because I was too busy trying to come back to reality. He pulled his fingers out and held them in front of my face.

“Open” he ordered. I complied and he pushed his fingers inside of my mouth. “You look so pretty when you follow instructions well. See how good you taste.”

I pulled my head back, taking his fingers out of my mouth. “I bet I taste a lot better on that tongue of yours.”

He tangled his hand in my hair and pulled me to a kiss. I immediately opened and welcomed his tongue against mine. I was right, I do taste better on him. I let out a deep moan and pulled away far enough to gently bite down on his lower lip.

He looks at me, that devilish tongue of his running against his lower lip before entering my mouth once again. With his lips still on mine, he picked me up and move to sit on my desk chair. It was nothing short of a miracle that we managed not to fall on the floor.

I placed my hand on top of his erection through his slacks and he drew a quick intake of breath. I started palming him as I grinded myself against him. I pulled back as I whispered, “I need you, Spencer”.

“Y’know this is the most I have heard you call me by my name in any given moment we have been together.” He unzipped his slacks and pushed down his pants and boxers as much as he could with me on top of him.

I looked down, finally being able to see his cock. Is it possible to get aroused further through sight alone? Because I think I creamed myself again. God, I wish I could show him my oral skills, but we’ll save that for another time.

“Would you rather I call you by something else?” I asked, attempting to move my lower body so that it can align with his cock. I say attempt because Spencer currently had his hands on my thighs again.

“No, I like the way my name sounds as you moan it out. Don’t hide your pleasure from me this time.” He maneuvered my legs to rest upon the armrest on either side of the chair, leaving my pussy wide open for him.

I gave him an incredulous look. “Are you forgetting that we are at work?”

He started rubbing the tip of his cock against my lower lips. “I didn’t forget. I just don’t fucking care.” And with that, he slowly penetrated me.

We both groaned at the intrusion. He gradually started entering me as I adjusted to his size. Inch by inch, he gave me all of him until he was buried to the hilt. I took a moment to savor the feel of Spencer inside of me before I started grinding against him. He took that as a hint to begin thrusting.

He started slow, taking his time and having us enjoy the feeling of one another. “Your cunt is so fucking tight” he hissed into my ear and I gave out a loud whine.

“That’s because you have such a big cock, Doc” I managed to moan out. He smacked my ass before grabbing each cheek tightly in his hands. “I want you to call me by my name” he grits out.

“Spencer, baby please give it to me. I’ve been waiting for this Spencer, I’ve been waiting for you.” He started kissing my neck once more and my eyes started to closed. I wanted to focus on the pleasure he was giving me.

He tightly grabbed me, moving my hips along with his thrusts. I was close to being pushed over the edge once more. The only sounds occupying the room were our moans and skin smacking against skin as we chased our pleasure.

“Open your mouth” I heard him say. I opened my eyes to see his thumb positioned over my lips. I let out a small whimper as I sucked his digit earnestly. I made sure to coat his finger with a lot of saliva, knowing exactly what he was going to do with it when it was out of my mouth.

He pulled his thumb out and immediately placed it on my clit. I gave out an embarrassingly loud sob as he started moving his finger against me in soft circular motions. I placed my lips on his neck, trying to muffle the noise coming out of my throat.

Spencer quickly grabbed my hair and pulled my head away as he started to slow down. “How many times do I have to tell you that I want to hear your pleasure?” In that moment, Spencer controlled my mind, body, and soul.

“I’m sorry Spencer. I’ll be your good girl, please don’t stop.” He returned back to the previous pace and thrust into me even harder. We both started chasing our orgasms, not being able to hold back any longer. He was pounding into me relentlessly and I was loving it. I am sure that I am going to be sore after this.

“Come for me (Y/N), I want to feel this tight cunt squeeze around my cock.” Say less, I am already ahead of you. My eyes were rolling to the back of my head and I felt my pussy pulsate around him. With one last motion against his thumb, I cried out his name multiple times as I climaxed.

Spencer whispered my name as he continued pushing into me, chasing his own orgasm. He thrust a couple more times before quickly pulling out, spilling himself over my stomach. I panted as I laid my head against the crook of his neck. His fingers thrummed a slow rhythm upon my lower back.

“So about that dinner... do you want to get Indian food?”

“Yeah, I can go for some samosas right now.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #smut #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #reid smut #mgg

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jadoue1999 · 3 years

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The X-Men and the member they lost - Chapter 3

Summary: What do you get when you mix Hayward and the Xmen? A pissed off Erik that's seriously trying to not murder the man!

Previous parts: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8,

Chapter 3: The Maximoff Anomaly

They had settled in fast. The older man that had intercepted them was called Hayward. He seemed very distraught at their arrival and made them go into an unused building. The director hadn’t listened to their protesting, he preferred having them out of the way. For what ever reason, Erik wasn’t sure. They soon realized that time worked differently in this universe. While they had already seen the episode and moved on, it had just ended as they arrived. Charles had told him with amusement that Hank would go crazy over the possibilities. Thankfully, the bunker contained televisions that monitored the town and the broadcast. Hayward had deemed necessary to make sure only people close to him knew of their arrival. They were all sitting around a table when he demanded their story. Charles spoke up. “We’re not from your Earth,” he started.

The director had looked at Kurt with a raised eyebrow, “I had that much figured.”

The professor continued, “two weeks back, one of our members went missing and the broadcast was all we could find. Our universe seems to be ahead of you with the episodes, but we are behind in years.”

“How so?” Questioned the woman sitting next to Erik.

“To us, it’s the eighties.” Charles waited a few moments, letting the people around some time to understand. “We come from a world where people are born with mutations, Kurt here can teleport.” The teenager looked at the professor, silently asking for permission to show his powers. Charles nodded and the blue mutant teleported from one side of the room to another. Hayward seemed shocked as the rest of the people gasped. Charles continued, “this is Raven, she can shapeshift.” Erik smirked as Mystique changed into a perfect copy of the director, making him jump out of his chair in surprise. She turned back into her human form and watched with amusement as Hayward slowly sat back down, eyeing her with caution. Probably seeing how unsettled the agents were, Charles decided to end this quickly. “I can personally read mind and Erik can control metal.”

Erik rolled his eyes as the military people looked at them with wide eyes. He wasn’t going to demonstrate his powers; he had done enough of that with Shaw. The team seemed to get the message that there would be no more demonstrations and moved on.

“So,” said the lady next to the director, “why are you here? Other than the broadcast.”

“Oh well, like I’ve mentioned before, we had a member of our team go missing.” The professor wheeled himself close to a screen and rewound the episode to when Peter appeared. “You see this young man? This is Peter, we had no clue where he went. We watched the broadcast in hopes for answers and we finally found him. Though in a tighter spot than we’d expected, but he does have a knack for trouble.”

Erik smirked at the joke; the speedster had always found himself in the strangest place at the wrong time. He was basically a magnet for trouble.

The director broke the silence. “So, this is not Pietro Maximoff?”

Erik shook his head, deciding to speak up at last, “no, he is not your Pietro, this is Peter Maximoff; my son.”

Hayward seemed surprised that someone other than Charles had spoken. “Is he like you all, enhanced?”

“Yes, he is a mutant,” answered Raven, clearly uncomfortable about the man’s tone. “He has superspeed.”

The director closed his eyes and sighed before turning to his colleague. “Bring the files concerning the Maximoff anomaly, they need to know.” The woman nodded and left the compound. He turned to the other members that hadn’t done much but gape at them and ordered them out. Apparently, he didn’t want people to witness what was about to happen. That left the man alone with the X-men. “Look, I get what you people can do, you barge in and act on an impulse; fix what you think is a threat and leave the rest of us to deal with the mess you leave behind. You might think you’re right, but this is my base.” Erik tensed up at the man’s words, this speech being all too familiar. “I don’t want you meddling in my stuff, Wanda Maximoff is a threat that needs to be dealt with no matter the price. You can go get your friend after.”

It was now official; he hated this man.

Though, before he could show him just how much he despised him, his colleague came back. She didn’t react to the lack of personnel, perhaps she had been expecting it. She was holding a significant number of files and what seemed to be a tv remote. Hayward thanked her and opened a file labeled ‘confidential’. It showed a picture of Wanda. Only she seemed younger, and her hair were a dark brown; there was also a man with bleached blonde hair at her side. They were in a crowd of people, their faces twisted in rage as they seemed to yell to something the picture didn’t show.

“This is Wanda Maximoff, back when she joined a Nazi base and accepted to be experimented on. This is how she got her powers.”

“Director, with all due respect, I believe your thoughts betray you,” interrupted Charles, to the man’s frustration. “I think it’s important to complete your statement and precise that she didn’t know what she was getting herself into.”

Erik secretly praised his friend and his telepathy; Hayward was obviously trying to antagonize the woman. It was obvious they now had to take his version of events with a grain of salt.

“Yes...” grunted the director, obviously upset about being caught in a lie. He pointed to the other man in the picture, “this is Pietro Maximoff, Wanda’s twin, the real one. He too had superspeed.”

He switched on a screen that was flatter than any television Erik had ever seen. It showed Wanda and Pietro in what appeared to be a lab. There was a sort of casket all plugged in with tubes. The pair seemed to be arguing with two older men. There was no audio, so their discussion didn’t make much sense. Suddenly, a blue blur raced through the lab, removing all the tubes in mere seconds. The blonde man stopped next to the casket looking thing and threw the last tube on the floor. It was strange, seeing another version of his son. Their powers were very similar yet very different. While Peter’s trail was silver, Pietro’s was blue, he also left some blue energy lingering in the air. It lasted a few seconds as he stopped before it disappeared. From the few dates in the documents and video, this Quicksilver seemed to have developed his powers only for a few months. It was probably why he seemed to be a little slower than his son. Hayward spoke again.

“The twins were working against the Avengers, those in charge of defending our planet. There was an army of robots threatening to destroy the world, they had sided with the robot in charge.” He glanced quickly at Charles. “They eventually changed sides, but Pietro didn’t survive.”

The footage changed to show a man and a child trying to take cover as a trail of bullets grew nearer. Suddenly, they were out of harm’s way and the speedster was in their place. His shirt was riddled with holes that quickly soaked with blood and he fell to the ground, dead. Fear seized Erik as he watched the man fall to the ground; momentarily seeing Peter in his place. Would a similar thing have happened had Mystique not disguised herself as one of the horsemen?

Hayward continued, showing footage of Wanda fighting in a group against other people, explaining how this event had led to the Sokovia accords, which was nothing more than a differently named mutant registration act. Except this one was actually approved. She had refused to sign and went into hiding, only to resurface when a titan had attacked the Earth. He apparently needed something called infinity stones, one of which was in Vision’s head. From the next chain of event Hayward told them, the titan had apparently succeeded in retrieving the stone. The real mystery was how the Vision was back to life; the director insisted that it was Wanda who resurrected him. She had been blipped, like half of the universe, and had came back grief stricken and ready to do anything to have a perfect family life. She had taken an entire town hostage and made them into her puppets. There was no telling what she might do to achieve her goal. Apparently kidnapping an alternate universe version of her brother wasn’t out of her reach. As Hayward continued telling them about Wanda’s life and what she had done, Erik had only one pressing thought: just how powerful was Wanda?

“How many people are in this town?” Wondered Charles.

“A little more than three thousand. They’re not all casted as roles, most are simply background characters.”

The wheelchair bound man nodded in comprehension. “Have you identified them all? Warned their families?”

He shook his head. “I believe it’s in everyone’s interest if we keep this low, we don’t want to alarm anyone. Especially when the world just came back.”

“You idiot,” raged Raven, “if they can’t reach their loved ones, they will ask questions. They will panic. Your logic is awfully flawed.”

“This is not your dimension, you don’t get to tell me what to do,” argued Hayward, clearly annoyed with them. “I will try to urge the identification process, but you people stay here. I don’t want more superpowered people and their associates getting in my way.”

With that, the man just left the place, followed by his colleague. Whether it was intentional or not, they left their documentation behind. Erik took one of the many files from the pile and opened it. This one described Vision’s origin and whereabouts until he had been destroyed in-

“Charles,” he said, not taking his eyes off the numbers. “This here says that the android died in 2018, five years ago.”

“We traveled 40 years in the future?” Said Kurt, understandably a little overwhelmed by the situation.

Raven put a comforting hand on the teleporter’s shoulder before looking at her friend. Her eyes showed how the situation affected her just as much as it did them. He didn’t blame her; Erik wasn’t sure if he truly grasped the gravity of the implications yet. For now, he preferred to focus on Wanda and her past; the more he knew about her, the better of a chance they’d have to retrieve his son safely and unharmed. The later wasn’t looking too hopeful. From his own experience with mind control and the co-worker’s reaction to being awoken, Peter would likely have a long and painful recovery once he would be back to himself. He just hoped that the differences between their timelines meant that he hadn’t been controlled since he had gone missing. Perhaps, by some luck, he would have arrived a little before he appeared on screen. He didn’t let himself think of what the speedster could have endured before being put under the woman’s spell. Especially if he had been her puppet for the entire two weeks he had disappeared.

“Erik,” interrupted Charles, “I can hear your concerns and I can assure you; your son is a fighter. His mutation is a natural telepath repellent, he’ll be just fine.”

The man smiled at his friend’s words, momentarily comforted. But then, a terrible thought creeped into his head. “Then tell me, old friend, if he is so immune; what horrible torture would he have to go under, so that his mental shield would be lowered enough for him to be vulnerable?”

The silence that followed his statement seemed to confirm that no one had even considered how Peter could be controlled in the first place. They had been too panicked at seeing the young man on the screen and then focused on getting to him to even think of the logic of his newly casted role.

“B-but he’ll be alright,” stammered Kurt, his tail anxiously twitching behind him, swinging, and curling unto itself. “He’s Peter, he always comes out alright.”

Charles smiles weakly at his student, “of course he will, Kurt,” he reassured him, “but we will have to give him time to heal and let him do the first steps when he’ll be ready.”

Erik shared a worried look with Raven, the professor seemed hopeful that the speedster would turn out fine, but he didn’t seem to realize how ahead he was thinking. They were on a military base that had studied for nine days this seemingly all powerful being that didn’t let you in without her consent and a rewrite of your life. And they hadn’t gotten far. From what they had learned, Peter would not be free of Wanda’s control unless she herself brought down the dome. But how could a grief-stricken mutant with powers never seen before just give up what she perceived as the perfect life she deserved?

...

They had stayed up late, learning about Wanda’s past and being horrified at what she had to go through. Erik wasn’t sure how he felt about the woman. She had gone through awful events, a struggle similar to his own. He did feel pity towards her, but he couldn’t look past the fact that she had his son playing her twisted game. The group had eventually settled down for the night, sleeping as good as they could without beds or blankets. They were suddenly awoken by some agitation on the base. Charles stared off into the distance before turning to his team, “Hayward has kicked off people from the base that were being disrespectful to him, now he’s coming our way.”

Indeed, barely fifteen seconds after he had spoken, the director opened the door. He seemed annoyed. “I’m just here to tell you that a new episode should air in the next twenty minutes.”

The blue teen looked at the man, “what happened outside just now?”

His question apparently wasn’t a welcome one since Hayward clenched his jaw in frustration. He answered nonetheless, “I got rid of nuisances. Nothing that concerns you or your team.”

That shut the boy up, but Raven stepped in front of him protectively. “You don’t get to talk to him like that, or to any of us.”

The director narrowed his eyes at her. “You should be thankful,” he snarked, “I could have you all arrested and locked up for the rest of your days, along with your little friend. Yet I haven’t even told anyone about your presence. I’ve been more than benevolent. So, I suggest you watch your mouth.”

Rage built up in Erik, he had heard these words so many times from government figures that disguised their hatred by saying what they could have done but didn’t. The metal bender was well aware that men like him wouldn’t hesitate to sell them out for a raise. What he didn’t appreciate was the way he threatened to imprison Peter as soon as they would get him free from Wanda’s control. Erik felt the metal in the man’s outfit and forced him closer, bringing him at his level. A sliver of fear was seen for a split second in Hayward’s eyes and a feeling of satisfaction crept into his chest. That man was a coward. “You listen to me,” he growled, “we can take out this base in seconds if we feel like it. I’ve seen your kind before, you crush others to rise in rank, but deep down you’re scared. You’re terrified because you’re aware that you are nothing. And if you drop your facade even for a second, they will see you for what you truly are. So, you take out the competition before it even has a chance to realize its potential. But guess what? You’ve met your match because I see you for what you truly are.” He paused as he stared into the man’s eyes. It was a competition of stares that lasted for a few seconds. Erik’s unwavering gaze pierced through the man’s pitiful attempt at intimidation without much effort. Finally, he let his grip go and kept his ground as Hayward took a few steps back. “Here’s a deal, little man, stay out of our way and we’ll stay out of yours.”

The director glared at him and then switched to the other people in the room, probably wondering if the threats he had said had a chance of becoming reality. Whatever he concluded, Erik didn’t know, but the man left the room fuming. The room was silent for a few seconds before Charles wheeled himself closer. He was about to speak but the metal bender beat him to it. “Don’t try to reason with me, old friend, that man had it coming. I only spoke the truth.”

The bald man shook his head. “Yes, you are right, and I don’t blame you for this, but perhaps threatening the director of the base we’re staying in wasn’t the greatest idea?”

Before he could argue, Raven intervened, “I think you did good. It’s been a while since I had seen one of your Magneto speeches; that Stryker knock off deserved it.”

He snorted at her comparison; Hayward was very similar to their own impersonation of the anti-mutant feeling back home. Kurt seemed a little unsettled by Erik’s speech. But he didn’t have time to make sure the teen was alright. Suddenly, the television in their little bunker flickered on; a new episode was starting. They all scrambled to sit down as the screen showed one of the twins running around with a camera in his hands. The upbeat intro song was echoing through the room.

‘Wanda!

WandaVision!

Don’t try to fight the chaos

Don’t question what you’ve done

The game can try to play us

Don’t let it stop the fun’

He opened the bathroom door, showing Wanda brushing her teeth; she also had rollers in her hair. She closed the door with her magic and Tommy ran downstairs to Vision who was reading the newspaper.

‘Some days, it’s all confusion

Easy come and easy go’

Erik watched the screen anxiously as the family members were shown, what would she make her son do?

‘But if it’s all illusion

Sit back, enjoy the show!’

The twin went in the kitchen, their neighbor was looking in the fridge. After a distasteful close up of the woman’s behind, Tommy was now headed for outside.

‘Let’s keep it going

Through each distorted day

Let’s keep it going

Though there may be no way of knowing

Who’s coming by to play’

A blur came out from the house and Erik’s stomach twisted as his son appeared on screen. He was wearing a grey and black shirt and jeans shorts. He briefly stopped in front of the camera and pulled his tongue out like some sort of rock star. He ran out of the shot and came back holding the long-haired twin under one arm. The screen froze to simulate a family picture being taken. The logo ‘WandaVision’ in red and yellow hues.

“Pietro Maximoff as himself?” remarked Raven unimpressed. “Really?”

Erik didn’t react to her voice; he was all too focused on his son. While he didn’t seem that different than usual, he couldn’t help but notice his hair. His usual silver mess of hair were now a bleached blonde. He stared at the screen in disbelief.

This woman had taken away one of Peter’s most unique traits, a part of his personality, to fit her narrative.

He continued looking at the screen with a mix of rage and anxiety. If she had changed him so easily to fulfill her illusion; there was no telling what else she could do if she found out he wasn’t truly her brother.

***

Notes: Next chapter: the halloween special! (and something else)

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avaritia-apotheosis · 3 years

Text

Phantom Children Ch. 3

In which: Danny getting yeeted into the Lazarus Pit yields anticlimactic consequences and Bruce Wayne converses with a fruit loop.

AO3 | Prologue | 2 | [ 3 ] | 4 |

DANIEL BARELY HAD TIME TO SCREAM before he’s plunged into the green depths of the Lazarus pit, primeval waves crashing against the walls of the pool. Talia flicked her wrist, signaling the ten League members hidden in the shadows to approach. Each one spaced equally apart around the pit with smoke pellets synthesized from blood blossoms held in their hands, ready to drop at a moment’s notice.

Pit madness rendered the majority of the living uncontrollable, with even the weakest of humans imbued with a strength that could only be induced by the purest of rage. The League was not taking chances as to how a being like her son would react to it.

The waters stilled.

Then—

A bright flash of light. Then, faster than the eyes could follow, a figure erupted from the waters. Bone white hair that twisted and curled as if it were still underwater. Skin lightly tinged frostbitten blue and clad in a suit of black and white and shrouded in an aura of blinding light. Phantom appeared from the depths, floating above the pit like a god reborn.

His eyes burned a toxic green.

“What the fuck was that?”

But not pit madness green.

Talia ordered her assassins to at ease with a raise of her hand. She slowly walked to her father’s side just as her son—Phantom—landed at the edge of the pool. Idly, Talia noticed how different Phantom seemed in comparison to her son. Physical attributes aside, Daniel tended to make himself smaller. What venom that may coat his words and the vitriol in his glares dampened by the way he held himself. Shoulders hunched and head tilted down. Non-threatening. Hands always needing to do something, whether it be holding his arms or shoved inside his pockets or constantly brushing it through his hair. No matter how she and his instructors taught him how to hold himself like a warrior, like a soldier, he still tended to present himself as a skittering little animal.

Phantom was different. He squared his soldiers and lifted his chin high, unafraid to stretch out to his fullest height and use his defiance of gravity to make himself look bigger. Stronger. His arms held steady at his sides, curled into tight fists. Green eyes—green as the Lazarus pit yet without that spark of madness that so consumed everyone else—burning with righteous fury.

“You fucking threw me into the weird green pool. What even—who does that?”

Ra’s tilted his head. “Fascinating. It seems you have a resistance to the pit madness.”

Phantom blinked, caught off guard. “Pit…madness,” he echoed. A statement, though from the wrinkle in his brows and the look he shoots Talia, it was more a question than anything else.

“It is one of the side effects of the Lazarus pits.” Talia approached her son with caution, holding his face with both hands and inspecting for any differences. “While the waters rejuvenate, restore, and even temporarily imbue one with supernatural strength, it also tends to inflict users with temporary insanity.”

“Insanity?” His eyes widened, trembling hands coming up to hold her wrists. Strangely, Daniel did not pull away from her touch. “I could have gone insane?”

Those bright eyes of his looked so frightened. Haunted. Pupils dilated to mere pinpricks of blackness, lost in a sea of Lazarus green. “Oh habeebi, only temporarily.”

“Like that’s better!” He yelled. “Even temporarily, I’m—” He staggered back, breaking out of her hold. Harmless Danny Fenton bleeding into proud Phantom as he ran his hands through his hair, unwilling to look at anyone.

Ra’s continued to watch, his arms crossed beneath his sternum, muttering to himself. Her father had prided himself on being one of the most knowledgeable about the Lazarus pits and its effects. Now, faced with a new mystery, the scholar within the Demon’s Head emerged as he observed his grandson.

“No,” Ra’s said, mostly to himself. “Perhaps less of a ‘resistance’ and more of an ‘immunity’ to it, given how both Daniel and the Lazarus pit have similar compositions. It would be a fascinating tangent to follow.” He chuckled to himself. “How droll. The life-restoring Lazarus pit holding a connection to the land of the dead.”

Talia turned to her father. “So, Daniel will not feel any of the pit’s side effects, then?”

Daniel perked up at the sound of his name, halting in his pacing. “I…might not go insane?”

“Perhaps, though it is too soon to tell. You have the waters of the Lazarus pit flowing through your veins, Daniel.” Ra’s smiled; eyes gleaming with the sparks of pride. “You and it are made of the same chemicals, the same reality-defying compounds that can bring the dead back to life.”

“Well, great. I have the same chemical makeup as a glowing hot tub, what else is new—” Her son staggered, and she caught him. Impossibly bright rings formed at his abdomen and then split, transforming Phantom back into a human. Mortal. His face haggard and sweating from the temples, eyes back to her beloved’s pale blues.

Her father did not bat an eye. “The pit’s healing effects are slowed down, then? Or perhaps it is because he has no wounds to heal?” Ra’s hummed; chin cradled in his hand. “Set him back into the pits, Talia. I believe young Daniel has yet to absorb all his needed energy.”

“Sure, yeah, that’s fine. Put me back in the crazy water, why not?” Daniel tugged at her shoulders. “Just…gently, please?”

Talia smoothed down his dark hair with a smile. “Of course, habeebi. I will even stay with you as well.”

When he looked at her, it was something almost akin to gratefulness.

------

In Gotham City, the upper echelons of society gather together at the Gotham Expo Center. The shining halls, which had been used as the site of a week-long exhibition of new scientific research, was reoutfitted to serve as the venue for the exhibition’s final event.

A gala. The hunting ground of the nouveau riche and old money families. Corporate moguls and debutants made their rounds across the floor, chatting with heirs and politicians and the who’s who of the upper class.

Scientists and researchers attempted to step out of their shells and dazzle the crowds. Wanting to fish a willing patron with deep pockets to fund their next project. Reporters huddled together like schools of fish, warily approaching the predators in their midst for a question or a photo. Both things many of the wealthy and affluent are easily ready to give, as long as it only showed off their best side in tomorrow’s society papers.

Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham, and society’s darling observed everything as he always did, in that most people believed he barely noticed anything beyond what’s right in front of him. He raised the flute glass of champagne to his lips, pretending to take a sip as he listened to the chatter of sycophants around him. A few were even some promising researchers of which he made a mental note to pass along to Lucius.

Two nights ago, Bruce received a tip of unusual movements from the League of Assassins. The organization had been quiet as of late, and while Bruce had been very carefully monitoring their activities in the background, the sudden tightening of their security prompted him to take a closer look.

There had been sightings of the League of Assassins centered around a small town in Illinois—Amity Park. A rural tourist trap championing itself as the most haunted place in America. Something that Bruce would normally scoff at or zealously research about if not for John Constantine’s warning to “never go within a ten-mile radius of that hellhole.” With similar sentiments from others in the occult community, the Justice League decided to take that warning to heart. Bruce’s curiosity may have been piqued, but even he was tactful enough to avoid courting more trouble.

Suffice to say, Bruce—and especially Batman—could not afford to ignore Ra’s al Ghul’s movements. Whatever his plans were involved whatever anomalies were going on in Amity Park. And wasn’t it simply serendipitous that one of the guest lists for tonight’s gala was Vlad Masters, the mayor of Amity Park?

“Vlad Masters, is that you?” Bruce, slapping on his signature Brucie smile, masterfully detached himself from his previous group, quickly heading towards the nearby bar where he spotted Vlad getting another drink.

“Why, Bruce Wayne, it’s been so long!” The two shook hands, of which Bruce was slightly surprised at how cold to the touch Vlad was. A health condition, perhaps. Then again, there was something in Vlad’s appearance and stature that spoke of a deeper reason.

“It’s been, what, two years? What brings you to Gotham?”

“Business; the usual really.” Despite whatever friendly aura they’re projecting, Bruce Wayne and Vlad Masters weren’t friends. More acquaintances that have been forced to mingle a few times because of the nature of their business and the demands of high society. From what Bruce knows, Vlad is a business tycoon that’s as blindingly charismatic as he was infamous for his quick rise to wealth and a few rather shady dealings.

Bruce stuck his hand in his pocket. “Well Vlad, last we all heard was you dipping your toes into politics. You’re a, uh, what, a governor?”

Vlad let out an obviously fake chuckle. “Oh nothing as grand as that. I’m only a small-town mayor, really.”

“Right!” Bruce snapped his fingers. “So, what’s that like?”

“Oh dreadful work, really. So much paperwork, so many things to do or oversee, but rewarding in its own way.” He puffed out his chest. “Many of the people in Amity Park do rely on me, you know. Though I’m afraid my schedule’s busy enough that I barely have time to go home!”

“Well, we’re very happy that you made room enough to visit us here in Gotham.”

Bruce sensed Damian coming to stand beside him and instinctually placed a hand around his shoulder. Though his youngest had been steadily adjusting to his new life here in Gotham, he still preferred to stick to his father’s shadow than mingle with those of his own age groups at galas. (Then again, Bruce was very similar when he was younger so perhaps it was a genetic thing).

He smiled down at Damian—frowning as he’d rather be patrolling the streets in uniform as opposed to schmoozing with people he hardly cared about. “Have you met my son, Vlad? Damian, this is Vlad Masters, a business partner and a, uh—” He scrunched his face, pretending to remember what Vlad’s current occupation is. “Mayor of some small town out west.”

Bruce turned to look at Vlad, expecting to see some variation of ‘insulted but trying to keep up a polite façade’—only to freeze.

Vlad’s face paled considerably. His beady eyes comically wide as he looked at Damian, the fingers curled around the stem of his flute glass bone white. Damian, unnerved, steadied his stance but shifted minutely closer to Bruce.

Well, this was interesting. “You alright, Vlad? You looked like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

Vlad jerked his head towards Bruce. Surprise—and fear? —contorted his features for a brief moment before smoothed back down into a proper mask. “Mayor of Amity Park, yes. My apologies,” he chuckled. “Young—Damian, was it? —only reminded me of someone I knew once.” He shifted his gaze back to Damian. “The resemblance is actually quite uncanny.”

Damian furrowed his brows. “Amity Park?”

“You’ve heard of it, Damian?”

“I would be surprised if you did.” Vlad masters took a small ship of his champagne. “Then again, it should be expected that you might have heard of it. The town does love it’s ghosts.”

Bruce laughed. “What, like Casper?”

“Something like that, yes.” There’s a tightness to Vlad’s voice. “Amity Park is its own breed of strange. We’ve handled things well enough on our own in the past, and quite honestly you get used to all of the spooks eventually. Though I must say the shadows are quite new—I’d often ask myself if I should petition your city’s vigilante and put him on the case.

“Shadows?”

Vlad easy smile shifted into a faint grimace. “They have a rather nasty habit of snooping.”

------

Despite Bruce and Damian’s attempt at plying Vlad for more answers, Vlad kept his mouth shut, evading questions and changing topics skillfully. Something that only raised Bruce’s alarm that something was going on.

“So,” Bruce unbuttoned his suit as he stepped into the car, “How did you hear of Amity, Damian? Ghosts and ghouls don’t exactly seem like something you’d be interested in.”

He waited for Damian to buckle his seatbelt before shifting the Bentley into drive and pulling out of the Expo. They had stayed at the gala long enough, making their rounds and giving the media enough for a headline in the society pages.

Damian rested his hand against the window. His face scrunched as he watched the looming facades of Gotham’s architecture pass by. “Mother mentioned the name once or twice,” he said. “I was not…privy to every operation that happened in the League, so I don’t know anything despite that my grandfather took an interest in Amity.”

“And I’m sure that from Masters’ odd phrasing, Ra’s didn’t just magically lose that interest either.” He narrowed his eyes. “Contact Oracle and have her dig up everything we need to know about the situation in Amity Park. I think it’s time Batman made his introductions to some out-of-town guests.”

#danny phantom #batman #danny phantom x batman crossover #phantom children.txt

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alch3mic · 3 years

Text

in between. (drabble series)

chapter five (comfort.)

cheshire!sans x gender neutral reader. 3k+ word count.

please be advised for themes of addiction, drugs, alcohol, self deprecating thoughts and apathetic feelings.

* it’s time for our dear underlust sans, cheshire, to have his turn! if you’d like to check out more about our resident catboy, feel free to check out his tag here on my tumblr! thank you and i hope you enjoy!

Don't get attached.

That seems like a pretty simple motto to live by, huh?

Well that's because.... it was.

In a world that cared little for anything beyond their momentary value, it was easy to not get attached. Everything changed day by day in this fast paced life. There was always a new video to look at, or a new phone to buy. Always a new trend to jump on or a new topic to talk about. You didn't form attachments to those things, you just used them to pad out your day so you didn't have to think about your meaningless existence, and then you were done with it.

You got rid of it.

Threw it out.

Forgot about it.

It no longer mattered because it no longer entertained you.

There was always something newer and shinier to look at just around the corner anyways, so.. why would you think twice about it?

Things were just.. easier.. when you didn't get attached...

You.. couldn't feel the pain of being let go.. if there was nothing holding you there in the first place.

.....

A shame he had to learn that the hard way, but that was life.

This world treated it's people like a commodity, always being bought and sold for their looks, money or talents.

Anything else was just worthless.

Filler.

Like packing peanuts that belonged in the garbage after you stripped a box of its goods.

Nobody cared how you felt.

Your emotions didn't matter in the slightest.

All that really mattered is that you played your part.

You spoke your empty words.

You did your flashy dance.

..You sold your soul.

..And then.. you'd collect your earnings and leave so you could go and buy the newest phone model you had your eye on.

.....

Emotions were.. well..

...Worthless.

...Just like they always were..

Just like they had been.. back in his own Underground.

Which is why, on that day..

When that realization set into Sans' bones that the surface really was no different..

That it didn't matter what he did..

Or how he felt..

...He swore to himself...

That he'd never get attached.

......

..And that's exactly why...

He could never forgive you.

Because in a world that was ever changing..

Day by day...

And always moving forward...

..How dare you stay the same.

Ah.. dammit!

Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!

It just wasn't fair..!

Just what the hell was wrong with you anyways?

He went to all that stupid trouble to close all those damn doors!

He boarded up every stupid window and stuffed everything shut as tightly as he could!

He gathered up all those loose emotions, tied them with a lock and a chain, and then threw them into the basement to never see the damn light of day again!

He even threw away the damn key to it all and yet...!

..And yet...

Somehow.. someway.. you still..

Weaseled your way right into his soul.

....

It just wasn't fair.

...He hated it.

..Or.. rather.. himself.

Because despite the fact that you were the one who did this, even after his multiple attempts to shove you away.... he could never say he actually hated you.

....

Maybe jokingly but..

No.. he could never actually hate you..

Despite how hard he tried.

You were just so damn.. persistent.

Not even in the annoying way! You were just..! Always there!

Really..

How dare you.. become someone that meant something to him!

How dare become a pillar of support for him to lean on!

How dare you open your arms to him, offering your gentle words and affirmations to him like he deserved them or something, and letting yourself become such a comfort that he actually sought you out now to help mend these pieces of his broken soul.

....

H-how dare you..

...Always be there for him.

Time and time again you were.. just..!

There!

You were always there!

Why were you always there!?

Christ, it's like you really had nothing better to do!

What, was he just your entertainment!?

A cute little show!?

Did you just want a front row seat to how much of a mess he really was because you were that bored!? Is that why you were always there!? Is that why you always picked up the phone when he called, no matter the starsdamned hour of the day? Is that why you were always there... no matter how far it was..? ..Rain or shine.. snow, hail or even when the damn wind was blowing nearly everything off its feet you were..

You were.. always..

....

There.

And that was just so damn unforgivable.

.....

There were times when he wished to himself.. that you had always been there.

...Way before.. he became like this.

Maybe he wouldn't have been such a mess if he had you in the first place but..

Life just wasn't fair, now was it?

He wanted to be angry about it still.

To blame you.

But he couldn't.

Really all he had to blame was himself.

He.. betrayed his own promise.

He had sworn to himself on that day that he'd never get attached.. and yet here he was.. more dependent upon you than he had been for anyone else in his life.

..Even to his own brother.. who had really seen him at some real bad lows.

But you..

You saw him at rock bottom.. and yet..

...You were still here...

.....

Really, you were by all accounts, an anomaly.

An outlier.

Someone who shouldn't be counted with the rest, because unlike the usual scum of this city.. you were...

Well you certainly weren't a ray of sunshine, that's for sure.

A little stoic and kinda stone faced, which probably worked to your benefit because people seemed to shy away from asking things of you, but..

You were.. different.

Despite the fact that you grew up here in Ebott, a vile city filled to the brim with criminals and thieves who ate people up for breakfast and then spat them out before lunch.. you.. were.. still you.

Calm.

Insightful.

...Caring..

..And... dependable.

....

...And how...

How was he not supposed to get attached to you?

..When you were always there for him..

Like now, as you held him steadily in your arms while he so desperately clung on to you as if you'd run away if he let you go. Of course a part of him was always scared you would because.. why wouldn't you?

What could someone like you possibly see in someone like him..?

Someone.. shallow and.. terrible with a whole novel's worth of issues.

Not at all good at comforting people.

Fickle and who practically ran at the first signs of trouble.

If he were you..

Well.. he would've given up on himself a long time ago.

..So.. why did you.. stay..?

.....

He was too scared to ask that question.

Too scared of the answer that may come from your lips, even though those words might just save him...

..Because he was absolutely certain that they'd actually just be the final nail that turns him to dust..

So he pushed the thought far from his mind to the back to die with the rest of his unnecessary feelings. Not that it was hard really, Sans' mind was a bloody fucking mess, clouded by a horrid mixture of alcohol and drugs that had him feeling on top of the world just a measly few hours ago.

Stars.. it really was easy to get lost in that madness wasn't it?

..Into the pleasure and fun that came at the end of a bottle, or at the end of another hit.

In a way.... it was just like magic.

In an instant, all those troubles that clouded your mind would seem so far away...

For a while you'd be unburdened by responsibility or society.

You'd let go of the constraints holding you back, you'd let loose and finally just be free.

Your mind would let go of it's troubling thoughts..

Of things... and...

..People...

......

You'd have fun without stress.

You'd lose yourself to the motions

To movements.

To the descent.

..To the fall.

Down.

Down the rabbit hole you'd go.

....

But with every fall.

Came a landing.

....

Right to the very bottom... and you'd suffer the consequences of your descent.

Now that once hypnotic neon that drew him into this club seemed sickening to his eyesockets, and the smell of smoke mixed with sweat and grease made him want to hurl. He didn't want to hear anymore words spoken by anyone else, much less those so called 'friends' who invited him here in the first place. Their words had long faded away to numbing static in the background now that the intense music was gone. He was sick of their empty flattery and jealous praises anyways, all trying to catch his attention so they could use him as a footstool to higher society. The only reason they invited him here was to get some damn clout for themselves and he was lonely enough to accept the offer because...

For once, you weren't there.

.....

Well you were technically there, because you always told him to call if he ever needed you, you just weren't like... there there!

..And he was feeling sad and...!

You weren't.. well-!

It's just-! He.. just-!

....

He didn't want to...

.....

Ugh.

It didn't matter.

He was just tired of it now. Tired of those damn pieces of trash..

They deserved to sit in the dumpster where they belong, but he was too fucked up to put them there so instead he just let it become background noise.

He wanted nothing more than to stay right here, in the only place he really felt at ease.

..With you.

So he turned his head away from it all and breathed in deep, a familiar scent washing away the muck that clung to the edges of his mind. It was fresh and a bit misty, like the scent of rain just before it fell with just a small hint of earthiness, and it brought him such a sense of..

..Comfort.

Just... like it always did.

Just like you always did, whenever you were around.

It made him clutch on to you all the tighter as he buried his head further into your shoulder, wanting to be lost in the mellow scents of your coat and the steady rhythmic beating of your heart as you spoke softly to someone else.

He was just..

Tired.

Tired of this, and tired of that.

Really he was tired of everything and just wanted to.. go..

"...home," he slurred, clearly interrupting your conversation with someone but not having the slightest care in the world.

His skull could hardly make sense of what was being said anyways, still washed up in the dizzying effects of alcohol and.. whatever else he took, but he really didn't care.

He wanted to go home.

That's why he had messaged you in the first place.

So you could come pick him up, yet again, and take him back home.

At least.. he hoped that's why you were here.

Who knows, maybe you'd finally come to your senses and would just dunk him in the trash can where he belonged.

"We're heading out in just a second, alright?" you said gently, your words cutting clear through his own thoughts.

.....

He barely turned his head to peek at you, catching the vague shape of your face through the fluorescent neon.

Funny.. how just your tone settled his troubled mind, almost making him feel silly for thinking you'd abandon him. Even if he didn't understand why in the slightest, you clearly cared for him. It came through in the way you spoke, and in the way you held on to him, like he was something precious and worth keeping.

...He just really didn't get it..

So he didn't think about it, instead just squeezing his eyesockets and letting out.. a noise in response.

..Really it was more like a painful, almost guttural groan, but he didn't want to acknowledge how unattractive it sounded, so a noise it was.

Thankfully it was enough.

"Just hang tight."

And then you spoke again, but not to him, so he let your voice fall to the side too, the gentle rumblings steadying him as he buried his face back to his usual spot.

For right here, in the small space between your neck and your shoulder was his own personal Wonderland. It was the same place his skull always went, whenever you two were close. The place he buried his face when he cried, or where he turned his head away to escape from it all. He loved to feel the pleasant heat of your skin against his cheek, and let those soft and subtle scents wash over him once more.

He really could just.. get lost in it.

He'd stay there forever, if you'd let him.

And that's exactly why he could never forgive you.

Because.. you did.

Time and time again you gave him that place all to himself, without question or complaint.

You let him come undone in so many ways in that small space, that house he had built for himself and boarded up.. no longer felt like home.

..And the feelings that he had locked away tight..

They were always so close to just.. coming out.

They threatened to spill from his mouth and dirty your jacket with their sullied words.

His admiration.

His respect.

His... love... for you..

..And all that you've done.

They danced tantalizingly on the end of his tongue, sometimes escaping in the friendly ‘I love you’s you both shared, or passed through his fingertips when your hands gently brushed, sending shocks to his soul. They seeped into almost every action and he..

Well..

A part of him felt like he was going to just go crazy over it..!

Or maybe.. he always had...

But for every moment he stayed in your presence it lingered..

And it swished and swirled... bubbling at the surface and just threatening to...

Break.. loose..!

"You doing okay?"

No.

No, he really wasn't doing okay.

Really he wasn't.

The words.. they were...

Slipping...

No...

He was...!

..Going to..!

"....i think i'm going to throw up."

"...Ah."

......

He probably would've been angrier if that wasn't the truth.

The excess magic bubbling in his soul was threatening to rush out thanks to the alcohol, and he certainly didn't want that spilling out of his ribcage so the only other option was out from where it came.

"Can you hold it?"

Ya know, normally that kind of question might've been seen as insensitive given the circumstance, but you very well knew Sans hated throwing up in public areas because it was... well kinda gross.

"..yeah.."

"Then let's go home."

And that was it.

You looked back to whomever you were speaking to and said your goodbyes before turning and heading out of the club with him in your arms while he tried to cling to you like a koala.

The awful neon was fading away along with the horrid smells, leaving him in just the gentle presence of you..

At least until you opened the door to the outside world the city lights and smells hit him like a fucking truck. He cringed, for even in the late hour the lights were in full shine and cars honked aggressively at each other in the streets. It was overwhelming and only made him retreat farther into arms, trying to escape from it.

Oh great, here comes the nausea again.

He groaned and you thankfully put a bit more pep in your step as you headed into the musky night air, finally reaching your car after what felt like a small eternity.

He had felt the keys already in your hand when you picked him up, and now you carefully tried to unlock the car door while maintaining your hold. It was surely a fairly easy task, considering the two of you had been in this exact position so many times before, and it wasn't long before you opened the door and tried to place him into the passenger seat.

"...You know you gotta let go so we can go home."

".....no."

He could feel your breathy laugh brush past his skull and neck, nearly making him tremble, but he still held on tight.

Sans just didn't want to let you go.

"..Please?"

.........

He.. reluctantly released his grasp, slowly sliding into the seat as he already began missing your warmth. His eyes automatically slipped shut, feeling more relaxed in the familiar space of your car. The passenger side seat was still just how he left it, tilted back just enough so he could nap comfortably.

"Just a sec."

"...mmmhh."

At least it was a more attractive sound this time.

Then he waited.. for what felt like another small eternity, almost tempted to brave the bright world to look at you before he was joined by a pleasant warmth, and the soft scents of rain and earth.

You laid your jacket on him, and he quickly hugged on to it while you busied yourself with buckling him in. Another easy task, as he heard the click of the seatbelt in place, and felt your presence leave him once more. He barely cracking his eyesockets open to catch your gaze, and for the briefest of moments he was greeted by your smile

"Was it fun?"

"...no.."

You let out a snort, shaking your head at his bluntness before standing up closing the door.

One last small eternity later and you opened up the driver side door, seating yourself before buckling yourself in.

"If I remember correctly you didn't have fun the last time you went out with her either, so why go?" you asked, turning the key and starting your car.

There was no judgement in your tone, more like a genuine curiosity. Surely it must've seemed dumb to keep torturing yourself in the presence of people you didn't like.. but..

"i'unno..." he muttered.

He was lonely.

"..jus didn' have anythin' else...since you were gone.."

There was a small pause as he watched your brows furrow, but you kept your gaze ahead as you pulled out of the parking lot and into the busy streets of Ebott.

"Well I did invite you," you reminded him and he let a small huff.

"i didn' wanna... intrude.. on your.. family... whatever."

"You know my mom wouldn't mind."

"...i know.."

Urgh.

Darn that woman for being almost as equally likeable as you were.

Really.. at first he could hardly believe the two of you were related with how bright and cheerful your mother was compared to your rather indifferent demeanor, but you both had that same tenderness that shone through in the way you cared for people.

...She always made him feel so welcome anytime he came around.

Like family..

....

And yet...

He didn't want to sully such a happy image with someone like himself.

So instead of joining you for an evening of board games and home cooked meals with your mom, he filled his meaningless life with people who were just as meaningless. He stuffed that empty skull of his with hollow praises, and anything that'd take these vile feelings away.

He didn't deserve this.

He didn't deserve.. you.

He deserved to be used up.

Thrown out.

And forgotten.

..Just like the rest of the people like him..

So... why did you refuse to let him go?

....

Once again he was too scared to ask.

Too scared of the answer he might receive, even if there was a possibility that it could save him. He just wanted to keep holding onto this. On to you, in hopes that you'd still just always be there for him.

Just like.. you always were.

....

He let out another huff, feeling those words threatening to spill forth again as he clutched on to your jacket. His hand wandered over to the same place it always did when he felt like shit but couldn't say it, to the middle console where it waited patiently.

His patience was rewarded, one small eternity later, when he felt your hand gently settle over his.

There was nothing more he could do to keep the words from spilling forth.

"i love you..."

And he meant it, with every fiber of his soul.

"I love you too Sans."

..Not in the same way, he knew, but...

This was still just enough.

Enough to keep him here.

Enough to keep him going, with the hope that maybe some day.. you would really love him too, in the same ways that he loved you.

#it's real sad boi hours #luckily he always has you #cheshire!sans #sans #undertale #underlust #lust sans #undertale fic #long post #fic #fanfic #alchohol tw #drugs tw #drabble #alch!writes #inbetween!fic #one left!

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safrona-shadowsun · 3 years

Text

Seeking

{ A follow up to @thefirstperished' story here. This takes place for Safrona in Warcraft: Shadowlands, canonically set just before the discovery of Korthia. }

"Excellent, most excellent," the Mistress of Darkhaven spoke of her Favored Guest, who had donned corseted red velvet and a decadent jeweled cloak by her insistent request. “Just the right fit too. I knew it too, didn’t I? A riding robe and cloak are efficient I’m sure, ah, but look at how you shine now. You wear our colors deliciously well.”

Safrona continued to patiently present for the Venthyr host who aided her now, and had been since the Courier had made her want known to attend the famed Ember Court of Revendreth. Mihaela regarded her now with a critical look touched with some longing. Her long, spindly fingers were dulled by the cool touch of lightless silk and lifeless, ashen skin. In the void elf there hummed a heartbeat, unspoken sins and power, and in the Venthyr there itched a curious desire to at last touch it. Yet the Venthyr were also made of etiquette and formality. Her hands instead splayed with the paused question of permission: “May I?”

After an eye of consideration, the Courier indicated her permission for her host to touch her hair as she wished. Despite feeling suddenly like a living doll the Venthyr was doting on with each gathering stroke of her braid, Safrona kept her attentions to the ledger of expectations for her visit to Court, and more notably presenting her own request. “I managed to contract the Maldraxxi minstrel for entertainment and locked in the invitation to the Ardenweald Emissary this time. That’s on top of the Sinner I’ve dragged along.”

“More horses?” Mihaela inquired with a note of disappointment. Her hands did not stop the experimental arrangement of hair around the elf's head. “Sinrunners are divine, my dear, but the Court certainly has their fill of horses."

"Not a horse," Safrona shook her head. " 'Sinner' as I am meaning one of those loyal to Denathrius, delivered directly to the Court's hands."

"Impressive. You take an interest in what the Court of Harvesters do, clearly. But largely a situation another Inquisitor can handle. You give the spotlight to another when at Court, you will need it on yourself to guarantee a boon."

"...is what I am not already doing for Revendreth enough to ask for one favor?" The Courier swallowed the months of weariness that had built into easy irritation with the tedium of gaining favor in the Shadowlands. At least she was not required to enter the Maw with these final preparations. “I know what I seek. Who I seek. All I need is the opportunity to find it there, no more.”

Mistress Mihaela slowly smirked, sensing the suppression of the void elf's nerves. "I'm sure the Court will appreciate your efforts. But you are hardly the first Maw Walker that has curried favor with them, and you will not be the last. You and your Broker friends are professional and useful to be sure, but the Court recognizes the allure of presentation as much as it does dependability. You are very interesting to the eye as is. And your request is personal, it seems."

The Venthyr revealed a brilliantly glimmering thread of gemstones that were fed the supernatural presence of flowing anima, attempting to thread them now through the elf's long, burgundy-colored braid. "We should make sure all eyes are drawn to your many facets."

Safrona grew self-conscious for the decadence given her. "This may be a bit much, don't you think?"

The Venthyr clicked her sharp teeth together, admonishing. "Don't be coy, dear girl. Make sure you bring out that pretty little scythe too. They will want more than a little "courier" at Court."

……..

"...and this "demon" as you call it, how magnificent! Clearly obedient." A Venthyr gentleman observed the felhunter Safrona had summoned to the Court grounds. As Mihaela had foretold, the new blood would gain attention, if not fascination. "Is it formed from your own blood, anima? Or a simple form of enchantment? I have never had the pleasure of investigating this species myself."

"Oh Barnabus! Stop pestering the girl about her pets!" Another courtly countess spoke, lightly placing her long, taloned fingers on Safrona's sleeve. She grinned toothily as she gained the void elf's eyes. "We need to know so much more about you, Maw Walker."

"And that glorious scythe!" Another at court joined at the side of the "Courier". "That is a weapon with a story I hope you intend to regale us with."

"Or you could save the chatter and appease dearest Barnabus with a Sinstone reading, hmmm?"

Two laughed while the Inquisitor glared playfully at his companions, extending his decorated sleeve for the void elf to take, arm in arm. "Do not tempt me more than I am, friends."

Polite and patient as she could be, Safrona let herself be lead around the Court by her company as they wished, asking pointed questions - the Venthyr took absolute pleasure in talking about themselves, or hearing their own voices. A gentle arrogance that worked to her own favor, as it kept her from needing to expose more of herself than was necessary. Her want, her desire needed to be aimed at the right party.

As she was lead to a cul de sac of the Ember Court, Safrona continued to listen to her guiding company, affording them smiles and a chuckle here or there to ingratiate their small biographies, their teases. Her eyes strayed however, wandering the new section, the new set of gaunt, vampiric faces that looked so much the same.

One face stood out in immense familiarity among them. Safrona paused within the makeshift little coterie, thought she felt her heart skip its beat. Lingering like a corner shadow, she would have recognized him by sway, by step, no matter how the facets of Death had touched him. Pure elation and relief flowed from her, a tumble of flame in the dark that reached for her Soulsinger.

It was the sudden closeness of one of the Venthyr that abruptly cut into her elation, locking her into physical place with a sudden wave of discomfort. "You smell like blood in the night, and...destruction, my dear lady." The Venthyr's voice spilled away from mere curiosity to something disturbingly wanton. "How very interesting…"

The Void Elf's discomfort knotted in her stomach, but it quickly evolved into a swirl of offense, and defensive backlash. Yet she was in control. Nothing outwardly changed in Safrona but her position, and the domineering stance of her figure as her voice came.

"That would be because I am at my core, destruction. It is what I know, Sir. It is all I have known for a long time. My sins are numerous in the light of all of it."

Safrona began to step away from the circle of curious Venthyr, glancing the way of the First of the Perished. In his mere presence, she felt stronger, certain of herself. Every word spoken next she hoped he heard.

"You can know I am a monster, an anomaly that has been absolved to hunt, harvest and deliver other monsters to their place, eat the dark of the world so the innocent can have their reprieve. If I am a Sinner you look for, then so it should be. I no longer regret what I was to be what I am now." Safrona abandoned the attention of the Venthyr, and gave hers solely to the lingering figure with her approach. He was everything she had come to find.

There was a sense of disassociation, a sense of shattered realities broken from time and space. A part of him had felt familiarity to an event like this but held no recollection of such a thing. He wasn't sure why he had been called here nor why he was asked to attend; hell, he wasn't sure why he even remained there. Standing quietly off to the side, the Hybrid stared out across the dead expanse of the Ember Ward, saw the sun blasted landscape that was more ash than dirt. That feeling of being out of place crept up on him, the feeling as if eyes were staring down upon him much like the crowds within the Arena.

It wasn't a voice that broke that feeling but the sudden warmth and ache that filled his chest, an ache that elicited a wince from chapped lips and gritted teeth. Fingers dug into the black speckled flesh of his chest as he fell to his knees, glancing around behind in search of what or who was forcing this feeling upon him. Staring out across the crowd, it was merely a sea of faces that were drenched in colors that all appeared muted greys.

Until... A singular being emitted an effigy of shadowed light among a sea of unknowns; a warm, inviting light that almost beckoned him toward it. " Who are you...", he spoke softly to himself, the being's visage not fully coming into view.

Elation quickly dampened as her Soulsinger seemed to crumple before her, cringing away in her eyes as if she had invoked an aura of fear. She knelt with him, gently reaching to touch the fingers he clutched to his chest. Precious touch, the gentle worship of calloused fingers she went without for much too long. Yet there was no relief, no sense of home here. Only the lost look of a broken man, wondering why she caused him pain.

The circle of Venthyr whispered among each other just behind the pair of souls, a background to the solemn silence Safrona fell into.

#safwriting #The First Perished #Stories #Warcraft Shadowlands #Drabble #Revendreth #The Ember Court

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anotheronechicagobog · 4 years

Text

Crockett Marcel x reader D’accord (Oneshot)

Written by: @anotheronechicagobog

Warnings: Mature themes, America has HORRENDOUS gun laws, seriously as a Canadian I get second hand anxiety about your gun laws/judicial system (even though Canada’s is far from perfect)/healthcare system, April is not written well here but I’m gonna do a nice fic for her soon, pardon my French (literally, quite a bit of this fic is in French with translations)

You’d been surprised to find another Francophone in Chicago. After you’d moved there from Quebec, you weren’t expecting much. Only a couple of “Oui, oui,” and “hon, hon, hon”’s from some unintentionally insulting Americans. So when, during your fifth shift, you swore in your native tongue “merde!” you’d been pleasantly surprised when Crockett had responded without missing a beat.

You’d shown him French-Canadian food, he’d shown you Cajun food, and you had each gained a confidant at med. And you’d both needed it. You were in a new country with very different social customs and laws, and April had kissed him while Choi was deployed leaving him a magnet for gossip. You’d both just needed someone to talk to, and speaking French with each other was just an added comfort.

“What did Doris say this time?”

“I don’t care that people are talking about me, I really don’t. Gossip is just part of hospital life and that’s fine, but I am so tired of being glared at and avoided. People aren’t even bothering to get to know me. I am just so tired about having to fight for a basic level of confidence in my colleagues for something that I didn’t even do! She kissed me, she just walked up and kissed me, how is this my fault?”

“I’m sorry Cherie.”

“I know. How was your day?”

“Anderson pretended to shoot at me again.”

“Seriously? You should report him to HR.”

“I don’t know, I don’t want to be overreacting.”

“He is pretending to have a gun and waving it at you on a daily basis because he knows that you are from a country with decent gun laws. What about the day he comes in with a real gun? And loaded? What if he actually shoots you? You need to report him, Cher.”

“Okay, I will. At the end of the day.”

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

You sat at Molly’s away from the main group, shunned by your colleagues. “It was just a joke, Y/N, can’t you take a joke?” But it didn’t feel like a joke. Not to you. You already felt like you should be wearing a kevlar vest on a regular basis; you didn’t need to be made fun of for your very real fear. You were busy moping when someone plopped down in the stool beside you. “Mon journée a sucé. Dites-moi que le vôtre était meilleur.” (My day sucked. Tell me yours was better)

“Voyez-vous la foule de gens qui me regardent et qui parlent de moi là-bas?” (Do you see the crowd of people looking at me and talking about me there)

“Zut. J'espérais vraiment que ça irait mieux.” (Damn. I was really hoping it would get better)

“Moi aussi.” (Me too)

“The hell are you two speaking? Swedish?”

“... It’s French, Hermann.”

“If you say so Y/N... You guys want another round?”

“Yes, please, kind sir.” Trying to make a joke with the man everyone said had a heart of gold and a belly full of laughs at all times.

“Well, okay then. French people are weird.” Both you and Crockett sucked in a breath. Explaining was always the hardest part. “We are not French people. Crockett is Cajun, and I am French-Canadian.”

“Okay, I don’t know what Cajun is, but isn’t French-Canadian just a Canadian who speaks French?”

“Mon Dieu.” (My God)

“Sacre bleu (Damn it), Hermann. No, a French-Canadian is not just a Canadian who speaks French, and unless you want to start a war in a country you don’t even live in, I advise you to refrain from speaking in that manner again. And just for the record, a Cajun person is someone descended from Acadia settlers in Nova Scotia who left for Louisianna to flee the British.”

“... Okay. I’m sorry I asked.” You just held your breath as Crockett swore under his breath. You opened your eyes, grabbed your glass over bourbon and downed it. “Je sais que je viens juste d'arriver, mais je veux déjà partir.” (I know I just arrived, but I already want to leave)

“Allons-y alors.” (Let’s go then) Marcel threw cash down on the bar before you could argue and helped you put your coat on. “Avez-vous déjà mangé des tapas? J'ai entendu dire qu'il y avait un super endroit à quelques pâtés de maisons d'ici.” (Have you ever eaten tapas? Heard there is a great place a few blocks from here)

“Montrez le chemin.” (Lead the way)

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

There was a new hot button topic of gossip the next day at MED. You and Marcel. Of course, no one was that cordial. ‘He couldn’t have a nurse so he went for an intern?’, ‘What, she thought being an intern is too difficult so she’s hooking up with a doc so she doesn’t fail?’. None of anything they were saying was true. First of all, April kissed and then rejected him all while she was dating someone else, second, he wasn’t even your attending. You did your ED rotation before he got here. You were on your pediatrics rotation, and kicking ass at it. Third, he didn’t know anyone here besides you thanks to April, so who exactly was he gonna say ‘give her a pass for me’ to? You just rolled your eyes and continued working. At the end of the day, that was what would speak for you.

You hadn’t been very close to April, or anyone in the ED really, they’d all had their own drama going on the entire time you were there, so you just faded into the background. But now, April was making an effort to talk to you. You would have found it odd, had it not been at the time the rumours were really flying, and if you hadn’t seen the burning question behind her eyes. She was jealous. She damn well wouldn’t admit it, but she was. And you were angry at her, and at least you were grown up enough to admit that. She had hurt Crockett. Damaged his work relationships and reputation before he’d even started. So you acted like you enjoyed her company. You talked about literally anything that wasn’t Crockett Marcel. You watched as her questioning eyes grew more and more desperate. If she was going to come to you acting like a jealous girlfriend she should have had the decency to be honest. But she wasn’t. And Crockett was paying the price. So you tortured her a bit. It wasn’t that bad, honestly. Plus, what made her think she had any right to know about relationships you may or may not be in? But her feelings did become noticeable. To the other nurses, doctors, interns. Suddenly everyone was aware that she had kissed Crockett, and that Ethan wasn’t the only doctor she had feelings for. You felt bad for Crockett, he’d gotten sucked into a wormhole before he even knew his feet were leaving the ground. The same thing could be said for Dr. Choi’s fist.

You pushed back the curtain and marched over to Crockett who was too busy arguing with Maggie to notice you at first. “Have you gotten a CT done yet?”

“Oh- Dr. Y/L/N. Uh, let me check. Uh... Here.” Maggie handed you and a skeptical Will the tablet with Crockett’s head CT already loaded. The black and white image should have comforted you. It looked good, no injuries or anomalies. But you kept looking, you kept gripping the tablet no matter how much your knuckles, and fingers, and wrists were starting to hurt. “Cher?” You slowly looked up, Maggie and Halstead had left the room at some point. “You seein’ something Halstead didn’t?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have the voice to. Instead, you regarded his face intently. Choi had only gotten in a single punch, thankfully, so there was only bruising around his right eye. You moved to stand in front of him, standing in between his legs which were dangling off the side of the bed. “Cher?” The bruise was already purple, the section around the forehead turning black. Your lips pressed into a firm line. After setting the tablet on the end table you gently took Crockett’s face in your hands. Ignoring the rest of him, you gently drifted your fingers around the bruising. Your stomach sunk the more you looked at it. It wasn’t inflamed, there wasn’t any bleeding, his CT was clear. But you just couldn’t shake the weight in your gut. You didn’t even know what you were looking for. But you kept looking. “Cher.” No inflammation. “Cher.” No bleeding. “Cher.” Clear CT. “Cher.” Keep looking. “Cher.” Crockett delicately grabbed your wrist, finally grabbing your attention, bringing more than the bruise on his eye into your focus. “I’m okay, Cher.” His eyes were boring into yours, pleading for you to listen to him. He moved his hand from your wrist up overtop of your hand before intertwining your fingers together and leaning his face into your clasped hands at the side of his face.

“D’accord?” (Okay?)

“D’accord.” (Okay) He smiled gingerly. Still looking at you with soft eyes that made you melt he opened his mouth, you could tell that words in his native language were on the tip of his tongue, when the curtains in the room were pushed back suddenly. April stood, tall, strong, and with a look of utter betrayal on her face. No one in the room said anything, no one in the room breathed. Slowly, as if she were avoided a cornered coyote, April backed out of the room, her chest starting to shake, her eyes watering. Soon you were left alone in the room, your hand still wrapped in Crockett’s. Now in full view of the entire ED staff and gossip mill.

#One Chicago #chicago med #crockett marcel #crockett marcel x reader #april sexton x Crockett Marcel #april sexton #maggie lockwood

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annerly-san · 3 years

Text

Malignance - [Chapter 1: Anomaly]

Primary Character Pairing: Getou Suguru x Reader/Gender-Neutral OC Story Summary: You are a curse. A burden. You are a tumor that grows within me. A malignant cancer. Cursed upon conception at birth, “Akusei Shuyo” was born from the hatred and ire of humans to the form of a special human-curse hybrid. Knowing nothing but the foulness of human hatred, fear, and hostility, a single chance encounter with a human able to give something other than such putrid emotions opens up a dangerous relationship between a curse-human hybrid and a sorcerer that holds the potential ability to reign control over them. [A Getou Suguru x Gender-Neutral Reader/OC] Chapter Navigation: [Next chapter to be updated]

The building in front of them was ostentatious. Getou stared up at the towering black fence gate of intricate lattice work and geometric spires that pointed towards the clear blue sky ahead. All along his horizontal peripheral was an endless wall of modern-eqse beige and white concrete blocks that most likely bordered the perimeter of the entire area.

For a high school, this was overkill. Gojo, who was standing next to him with evident distaste on his face, seemed to share in his thoughts as the both of them shared a knowing gaze.

The duo had been standing at the front gate for an undeniably long time.

Getou was politely smiling at the guard positioned at the entrance as he stared and flipped through the papers and identification that Getou had provided him. Gojo, was glaring at the other guard at the post— lips pulled back to make a face full of confrontational disdain.

School security was important for sure, but the extent that this school had gone to was ludicrous.

“Tokyo Tech had sent you here on the request of the headmaster?”

“That’s correct.” Getou had maintained his calm smile, and it betrayed none of the growing irritation that was brewing within him— though that façade was quickly wearing thin. This was the fifth time the guard had asked.

“Hmm…” the papers were shuffled through again. “Alright. These seem legitimate, but let me ping the headmaster just to be certain.”

Getou began tapping his foot in impatience, and Gojo began to pace circles back and forth as the guard rang up the headmaster on his radio.

“Ah yes, I have Getou Suguru and Gojo Satoru here from Tokyo Tech at the front entrance and wanted to confirm that he has permission from you to be on the premises.”

The ring went through, and Getou simmered with an annoyance as the thought of why this was not done earlier crossed his mind.

“Yes. Yes. Alright, much appreciated, Headmaster.” The guard turned to him with an unwarranted look of doubt and disdain. “You can go in now.”

Getou nodded and waved a hand at the guard as he walked through the opening gates. He watched as Gojo stuck out a tongue and blew it at the guards before sauntering in, and Getou didn’t bother to stifle the laughter that came out of it.

The interior was more grandiose than the gate. It was to be expected, but it left him with a sickening sense of irritation given the circumstances he had faced only at the entrance.

Yaga-sensei had warned them about the school. It was an incredibly prestigious private high school in Tokyo that the rich often sent their kids to study at. Scholarships and admissions were also granted based upon merit and the school was known to turn out incredibly intellectual and talented students.

It seemed stifling to be honest, and given the amount of incidents that had arisen to warrant calling two special-grade sorcerers to the fray, the amount of cursed energy in the area should be crushing their bodies and souls whole. Yet, there was nearly no cursed energy in the area at all. Nothing.

Getou looked over to Gojo, who had the same look of confusion and bewilderment on his face.

“Do you think it’s actually a special grade object?” Gojo asked inquisitively as he pat one of the stone columns on the buildings they passed by. “From what the damage was, it has to be a higher-grade curse, and the fact that the place is as quiet as this is unusual.”

“Yeah,” Getou nodded in agreement. “I get it if there’s no lower-grade curses lurking around, but how is there just no cursed energy in this area at all?” He muttered as his eyes darted about the campus. Getou held out his hand and summoned a few lower-grade curses to help scout around the area. “It might make sense if it’s an object. But with how things have been, shouldn’t there be some residual energy leaking from loose seals?”

Their school had received a concerning request calling for the investigation and resolution of a series of unfortunate events that had been plaguing the students, faculty, and staff for the past year. From car accidents to suicides, to poisonings and to descents into insanity, the victims of the school were suffering from a wide array of misfortune that befell both themselves as well as their friends, family, and loved ones.

Getou could recall his first exposure to this mission in an unbearably vivid quality. It was a desecrated corpse that had been unclogged and pulled out of an apartment’s plumbing system a few weeks back. Mangled to pieces with organs strewn all over in an endless crimson pool of bloodied water overflowing in the sink, but what shook him more than the sight of the gruesome death was the pulsating mass of purple and green that had embedded itself into the decaying fragments of what was a human body.

Shoko, despite her tough stomach with her experience in handling corpses and the like in the school’s morgue, was the first to run outside the building to regurgitate any contents within her stomach, and Getou soon followed with Gojo in tow.

It wasn’t a curse but rather the residual of it. Each reported victim associated with the school had the same vein like mass attached to them one way or another. For the past several days, the trio had been chasing empty leads with the victims in the hopes of finding the cursed spirit, user, or object that had proliferated such a vile curse all over the area to no avail.

Gojo prodded the pale green mass and it blobbed about gelatinously before wobbling to a still on the head of a hospital patient who had gone brain-dead in a sudden coma.

“It doesn’t seem to be dangerous or anything-“ his musing was interrupted by the door of the room crashing open.

A family member of the deceased had chosen to walk in at the same time of their visit and the tears running down her face only marked the beginning fiasco of the hysteria she was about to let loose.

Getou and Gojo stood there awkwardly as they watched the girl cry hysterically as she clutched the arm of what appeared to be her deceased brother whilst she pathetically shook him back and forth. Getou, trying to avoid looking at the uncomfortable sight before him, made the poor mistake of focusing on the pale green blob as it jiggled back and forth with the sway of the vegetable on the hospital bed. Gojo must have been doing something similar as the quiet choking sounds of his friend trying to stifle a laugh served as an addition to the white noise of the buzzing hospital room. Getou nudged his friend and gave him a glare for his inconsideration whilst doing his best to not look at the bobbling elastic mass of pale green and lilac.

“A-are you two the ones that are looking into h-his… h-his a-accident?” The girl finally managed to choke out some amount of words before standing up with an uncanny rage burning in the back of her eyes.

Getou slipped his hands into his pockets as Gojo awkwardly rubbed the back of his head.

“Yeah, we are.” Getou responded calmly. “Our sincerest condolences for your loss.”

A slam echoed in the quiet room as the girl dropped her book bag on the vinyl floor with a resounding thud. A burning rage in her eyes ignited as she stormed towards the two of them.

Getou froze and Gojo tensed up as she grabbed his shirt in a pleading manner— desperately looking up to him in a cry for help.

“P-PLEASE-“ she barely managed to get out. “IT’S THAT FUCKING SHUYO. THAT AKUSEI-“

Her words stopped there.

The blob that had been benign for the past several weeks of its encounter had latched onto the girl with its vein-like tendrils wrapping around the girl’s mouth and neck in a chokehold. Muffled screams grew higher and higher in pitch as Getou quickly reached out to pry it off of her, but it was too late and to no avail.

A loud crunch and pop sounded out in the room as the mass squeezed the body with a blinding compression and crushed her skull and popped her innards all over the hospital room floor. The pressure of the blood in her body released all at once and sprayed the fragments of what was once functional organs and tissue all over Getou and Gojo’s clothes.

Rhythmic dripping sounded against the vinyl tiles that were now crimson and covered in a growing puddle of blood and gore.

Getou could not move.

Frozen in place, he eyed the green blob resting on the exposed white spinal cord amidst the mass of fresh blood and tissue on the girl’s corpse as it pulsated slower and slower until it was benign once more.

Getou could hear Gojo vomit in the background as he stared in shocked horror at the mass of pure malevolence in front of him.

“She said… shuyo, didn’t she?” Gojo muttered as the two of them continued to traverse the campus. “Shuyo as in tumor?”

The words were spoken as though it were an insult to a person. To call someone a cancer was definitely a rare and degrading insult, but the way it was spoken in conjunction with malignance or “Akusei” was peculiar.

Akusei.

Shuyo.

Akusei Shuyo.

The words combined were a creative insult for sure. But the conjoinment of the two made for something far too literal to be used as such.

Unless it was actually someone’s name.

“She couldn’t mean… a person… right-?” Getou commented nervously at the insinuation of his words.

Gojo stared at him with a strange look on his face before turning to face straight ahead. “Shuyo… Akusei…”

The words meaning tumor, and the words meaning malignancy and evil nature.

A cold chill ran down his spine as Getou recalled the pale, green mass on the desecrated corpse of the girl in the hospital room

The curse residual was not unlike a malignant tumor in nature. Getou’s thoughts wandered as he walked alongside Gojo on the campus. That girl had called out for a “Akusei Shuyo”, but there was no possible way that she would have been able to see the cursed residual on her brother’s body as she was a regular human being. That ruled out the perpetrator being a curse. The manner of speaking implied a person rather than an object. Getou froze as Gojo continued to pace on ahead.

“Is it a curse user?” Getou asked aloud.

Gojo stopped and turned back to face him.

Before Getou could receive affirmation or denial from his companion, the tolling of the school bell rung and the walkways were beginning to become quickly saturated with students and staff transitioning back and forth for lunch and break.

The two of them stiffened at the sight.

Discretely attached to each and every body of the student and staff population that they were able to see at school was a pale green cluster of cancerous cells at risk of becoming malignant at any given moment.

#getou suguru #geto #getou x reader #jjk fanfic

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