#i yearn for a place where i can be free and happy and safe | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

intothegenshinworld · 2 years

Note

How do you think people would react to a partially paralyzed reader who can only walk for limited amounts of time before their legs just become numb and unable to move? They tend to like RPGs, especially open world, for this very reason because they get to do whatever they want and go wherever they please. Genshin Impact became their favorite. Little do they know, the entirety of Teyvat awaited them to arrive for an adventure where the acolytes will be there to protect them piously as theytravel

Note: I am not a doctor nor am I partially paralyzed. Parts about this might be inaccurate but I tried my best to focus on a reader with limited movement time before they are unable to walk. Hopefully, this is still okay!

A few months ago you had been isekai-ed into Tevyat. All the playable characters and npc’s seemed to know about you. Apparently, as you played the game behind the screen they had gotten to know you. You too, of course, know them inside out as well. You played the game every day as an escape, getting to know the world Tevyat and its inhabitants.

Sadly you bumped into some problems when first arriving here, but do not worry! Everyone is happy to help in any possible way. With your limited movement time, you move from room to room. For bigger distances they create a wheelchair or someone will accompany you in case you needed to be carried when you couldn’t walk anymore.

Everyone is really understanding about the situation and while it still sucks, with the help of everyone you’re able to visit the places you’d only see behind the screen. For once in your life, you feel like a real adventurer.

Some small scenarios:

Diluc, the first one to actually carry you. He is extremely alert and notices your fatigue and weak legs before you can collapse. He’s a gentleman, asking permission if he can continue to carry you. Overall he’s very strong and isn’t bothered at all by your weight. If you ever happen to take a stroll around Mondstad you should take this guy with you. He is yearning for someone to spend time with, and because he carries his claymore everywhere it isn’t a problem when he has to carry you for longer distances either. ‘Don’t worry. I’m used to the weight of my claymores. Don’t think of this as a bother. I do fear I might be less capable of keeping you entertained.’

I can see Noelle lifting you up like its nothing. No matter how big or tall you are, she will pick you up bridal style and carry you somewhere safe and comfortable. ‘You seem tired. Would you like some tea? I'll brew you some. Do you take sugar? One cube, or two?’

Everyone knows how strong Itto is. He is a bit too excited when you ask him if he can carry you for the remaining distance to Inazuma city but it excites you as well. Just cling to Itto! He will make sure that you’re safe! ‘Oh and don’t worry majesty! I can run really fast if you wanna get home quickly. What’s that? You want me to walk slowly. I see, I see. Everyone wants to hang out with the great Arataki Itto, after all.’

Xiao is pushing the wheelchair around the roads of Wangshu inn after you came to eat almond tofu with the adepti. He might not express it visibly but the fact that he takes time off his duties to take a walk with you ON MULTIPLE OCCASIONS!! Assures you that he enjoys it just as much as you do. ‘Hmm. What’s so special about the birds? …cute, you say?’

Just know that Venti will create wind steams for you or take Dvalin as your personal airplane to go literally anywhere. ‘Ah! Your Grace! Looking for a flight somewhere? I’ll gladly follow you around every nation in Tevyat!’

The Kamisato siblings pushing you on your wheelchair around the busy streets of Inazuma city. Nobody looks at you weirdly, instead they greet the three of you with lots of warmth and free delicacies. In the end Thoma ends up joining you and brings the latest news about the Inazuman citizens. ‘Are you willing to try hotpot with us later? Of course, we won’t put the special ingredients in this time.’

Benny’s adventure team taking you with them. Everyone knows how dangerous that misfortune can be so one of the Knight’s ends up tagging along. If it’s Kaeya you better still be prepared for chaos. ‘You want to join us? Maybe with the creator we'll find the most valuable treasure in the whole world!’

The ex-archon Zhongli keeps you company for hours. He doesn’t do much now that he’s retired so be prepared for a bunch of tea and hours of Liyue history. Its literally free personalised ASMR. ‘Boats are made for transferring commodities back and forth, and those that come across Liyue tend-‘

2K notes · View notes

vllergy · 8 months

Text

emerges from the ether for 5 seconds before vanishing again--i don't post here often i go through phases, the moon has phases i have phases whatever but i've been playing a lot of b@lders g@ate and while i don't think i'll ever feel comfortable writing canon character content (maybe h@lsin??? g@le??? who knows) this one NPC interaction had me by the throat. feat: tw: canon courtesan/sex worker NPC, kink!reader, second person narration since the game is like that, hunky sneezy drow man, honestly a lot of build up for little payoff im sorry idk what happened. i also don't know the word count im useless (dialog is in-game dialogue up until the lil time skip to his room, then it's all me baybbyeee)

The drow is one of the most handsome you’ve ever seen. Not that you expected him to be ugly, of course. The fabled drow twins of Sharress’ Caress are known far and wide for their talents as well as their beauty. Its just, seeing them in person is quite different from sustaining on mere rumor alone. Sorn Orlith, as he introduces himself, is rather muscular for a drow. He stands nearly a good head taller than you with a broad, brazenly defined chest. His outfit is nothing more than a metal cage topped over his heavy shoulders and flared out down his sternum like witch’s fingers, pointing towards an abdomen taut with muscle.

His long skirt rides around his hips but you can still see the shadow of indents against bluish-gray skin there, as if they are inviting you to take a closer look. They likely are. Nothing about his appearance is not meticulously crafted to draw you in. From the slight sheen on his lips that are plush and naturally the color of ripe blueberries, to the way his wintry hair is falls effortlessly back from his face in perfect waves. He is a vision, and yet his eyes are not cold and imperious like you might expect. They’re warm. Inviting. Somehow kind, despite what kind of debauchery goes on in a place like this.

You ask him how he ended up here in the first place. Apparently, the Underdark isn’t kind to male courtesans. Also, he was bored.

“The entirety of drow culture is obsessed with bondage beyond reason. While such activities have their charms, I yearned to reach greater depths.” He gives a dazzling smile. “And there is no society on this planet more laterally, imaginatively and confusingly depraved as that of Baldur’s Gate. Although of late, I do feel I’ve seen everything. Perhaps you’ll show me something new?”

Your throat goes dry.

“I’m…glad you’re happy here,” you manage out.

Sorn laughs, but not unkindly “I’d have to restrain myself far more than any play-bindings do if I worked in another field. This is a place where I can be myself boundlessly.”

His arms widen, emphasizing the violet taut flesh of muscle in his shoulders and biceps. You do your best not to stare.

“There are so many who come to me speaking of a fixation that no one else has ever been able to share with them…” he leans close, “And never will again.

He smells of bergamot and brandy. It’s intoxicating. “A once in a lifetime moment of passion. Every day. What could be better? Don’t you want to try it?”

You do. And he can tell. His grin widens, almost wolfish.

“Trust me, you don’t want to miss my signature Menzoberranzan Love Trick.”

—

With the door to Sorn’s private room shut, you feel a sense of calm overwhelm you. The room is beautiful—long enough to be someone’s home, crystals and plants glowing in every corner, a bed surrounded by flowers, shadows in all the right places. It looks like it was plucked free from the most beautiful parts of the Underdark and brought here to Wyrms Crossing. It feels comforting. Safe.

“Now, are you going to tell me about this little secret of yours? Or would you prefer to keep me in the dark?”

Sorn’s voice startles you and he slips a hand around your waist, nosing at your neck as he comes from behind you. He releases you at the reaction, but doesn’t make a show of it. He’s masterful at what he does. Reading his partner, gauging their comfort level, adjusting and maneuvering as necessary. Your blushing cheeks must give you away because he gives you an encouraging smile instead and reaches for your wrists.

“Come, let us sit first. I find it’s easier to talk like that.”

He leads you to the foot of the bed. The sheets are luxurious, obsidian satin, and the mattress sinks with your weight. He sits close, angling his body towards you, but not so close as to crowd you. Your knees touch. You can see his breath flexing the hardened muscles of his torso and chest as he lingers there, expectant but not impatient. His hands cover yours in your own lap.

“It’s perfectly all right to be nervous,” Sorn continues, “But I assure you, your secret is safe with me. And not only that, it is *treasured*. I meant what I said earlier. There is very little that surprises me these days. Should you present me with something unexpected, I will be noting more than delighted.”

You avoid his eyes, despite how gentle they are. You’ve never said this in front of anyone. But he’s right. Odds are, there are multiple someones in Baldurs Gate who have stranger interests than you. Sorn has likely indulged them all and without complaint. As he said downstairs, he rather enjoys this aspect of his work. Still, your tongue is in knots as you work up the nerve to say it. Your eyes travel up from his chin to his perfectly shaped mouth, the cupids bow of his lips and then finally the long, aquiline shape of his nose. It’s a fine nose. Prominent on his face and somehow as elegant as the rest of him, it captivates your attention for a moment.

When you realize you’ve been staring for a moment too long, the confession rushes out of you in a breath, “Sneezing.”

Your face feels like it might explode from the heat. Sorn blinks. You expect him to laugh, or tell you to leave the room, or some other horrible outcome but instead he merely tilts his head. His hands give yours an assuring squeeze.

“And what about it do you like, my love?”

You lean over with a groan. You truly cannot believe you’re having this conversation—but his warm chuckle sends something fluttering in your chest and you gather the courage to straighten back up again and look him in the eye.

“I’m…not quite sure, I just know I enjoy it,” you say carefully, “And when my partners do it.”

“Mmm,” he says, contemplating, “So you’d like it if I sneezed for you then?”

Your lips purse, holding the answer hostage in your throat. You nod helplessly instead. He laughs again and releases one of his hands to brush a knuckle along your cheek.

“Look how red you are, it’s positively darling. Was that all, little bird? That was what you were so afraid to tell me?”

You nod again, nearly in tears. It’s off your chest now and it feels incredible, but it’s also freeing in a way that makes you feel raw and exposed. He’s being so kind about it that you’re not quite sure how to react. Emotions clash together, warring for dominance inside the confines of your skull.

Sorn seems to understand immediately. His hand skirts below your jaw and tips your chin up as he leans forward and captures your lips with his own. It’s a simple, nearly chaste kiss. So featherlight and innocent that it feels like the sun peeking through the clouds. “Shh, shhh,” he soothes as he pulls away, “I think it’s wonderful. I will say it’s the first time I’ve encountered it, but I think it’s quite endearing.” He pulls away a little further, leaving you breathless. His white smile gleams. “And what an exciting challenge besides!”

He releases you fully and stands from the bed, his hands on his hips. He looks about the room, brow furrowed in concentration. You’re still a little dazed from the kiss, wondering how he manages to taste like brandy and sweetwine and smell as good as he does while also trying to get your brain to stop swimming. You blink a few times to get your bearings as Sorn stalks to one of his shelves.

“Now, the only trouble is—“ he starts as he rifles through a few things, “There isn’t much that makes me sneeze, I’m afraid.”

Your stomach wilts a bit. Perhaps it was too much to hope that this strapping drow would have a terrible allergy to lavender. Though, to be fair, he hardly looks like the type to be beset by anything so pedestrian. Sorn is so maddeningly put together. From his perfect hair, meticulous ensemble and finely crafted expressions, he is clearly a man that keeps up appearances. Decorum is important to him. Should he ever be laid low by an allergy, you imagine he would fight it with the all the dignity and stoicism he so proudly displayed.

Still—you didn’t work up all this nerve just to get here and *not* have anticipated something like this happening. Shyly, you let your fingers linger over the vial in your pocket.

“I…may have something that will help,” you say.

Sorn turns from the shelf with what looks like a raven feather in his hand, his eyes bright. He looks positively delighted at the news.

“Oh I love when my clients come prepared,” he says, “You are a dream.”

“We could try that first, though,” you say, gesturing to the feather. There’s definitely something to that idea and it’s already stirring a feeling in your belly that has you shifting on the bed and your heart rising. There’s no possible way Sorn can know this, but somehow you sense he does, because his eyes sharpen their focus on you and his grin goes syrupy.

“Lovely,” he comments and returns to your side. As he sinks back into the mattress, he gestures a hand. “Is here all right? Or would you like to do it somewhere else?”

“Here is fine,” you choke out. The idea that this is happening, really happening, is making your brain turn to lightning. You can hardly wait.

He holds out the feather to you, “I assume you’d like to do the honors?”

You nod. The feather has little weight to it, and it’s gorgeous up close. The black shimmers with hues of purples and blues in the low light, glimmering in the reflection of your eyes. You run your eyes along the length of it and then find yourself starting at Sorn again, heart in your throat.

“Is it… all right if I touch you?” you ask. You lean forward, hand with the feather outstretched, but think you may need to position yourself a little closer and brace yourself on his shoulder to get a good angle.

“Darling,” he laughs. He suddenly seizes your wrist and brings you closer, lowering his voice near your ear. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

You gulp as he slides back, demure and innocent as if he hadn’t just made goosebumps appear along your arms and thighs with his words alone. A nervous smile paints your lips and you do finally take his shoulder in your hand. You’re kneeling almost into his lap at this point and to support you, he draws an arm around your back. It’s so intimate you’re almost dizzy with the closeness alone, and you haven’t even gotten to—

The feather brushes at the corner of his mouth and his mouth twitches in a smile. Even just that response alone makes your heart race. From there, you slowly move it up to the indent above his mouth, and then his septum. He wrinkles his nose, skin avoiding the stimulation on instinct before he wrests his control back. He smiles but says nothing, allowing you to continue.

You draw the tip of the feather around one nostril. It quivers in response, but otherwise, Sorn’s eyes remained focused on you. You test a bit farther, drawing slow, soft circles. There isn’t anything for a few seconds, and then he starts to blink, irritated tears prickling in his eyes. He sniffs a few times and then has to cough, politely turning his head away on instinct as he does so. “Apologies,” he says and then grins, “What a strange sensation.”

“Are you all right?” you ask.

“Very much so,” he nods, “Please, continue.”

You do, but to mixed results. You’re certainly irritating his nasal passages, but sadly not enough to make him sneeze. After a few minutes of attempting, all you’ve really done is making him cough and cry irritated tears. Disappointed, you’re about to give up when he takes your wrist again, holding the feather inside his nose.

“W-wait,” he says, “I had it for but a moment.”

Your heart stutters. Carefully, you twist the feather as you had been a moment earlier. His eyelashes, pale as new fallen snow, sweep his cheeks and a breath catches on the roof of his mouth. The hand that was around your wrist falls slack, fingers drifting down towards your elbow.

“Yes, I feel it,” he whispers.

His grip around your back tightens and he draws in another breath. His eyebrows crumple and hoist upwards and his nose practically twitches.

“Hh—hiiyh—“

As his expression snaps, you pull the feather away just in time. His head wrenches away as the sneeze whisks through him.

“Hi-ISSHh!”

It’s a spartan, nearly soft sound. Wet, given the amount of torture his nose has been put through for the last few unproductive minutes, but otherwise without frills or embellishments. It’s a very honest sneeze you think, but perhaps one he was not entirely prepared for. By his clenched teeth you think he might have held back at the last moment out of some sense of propriety. The way he lightly touches the backs of his knuckles to the underside of his nose in the aftermath and gives a delicate sniff further enforces your theory.

Still, it was a sight.

“Blessings,” you say, enraptured.

Sorn recovers quickly and smiles at you.

“Did you—snf—enjoy that? I am sorry it took so long.”

Your red cheeks are enough of a glowing recommendation, but you nod anyway. Feeling a little braver, and a little desperate for him now that you’ve seen him lose control the once, your hand slips down against his abdomen. The warm skin there flexes against your palm as he breathes in. He hums a soft noise of approval and clasps his hand over yours before leaning in to kiss you. There’s just the briefest moisture in the kiss, only you would ever notice it, and it sets your brain on fire.

“Perhaps we should try your method instead,” he suggests when he pulls away for a breath, kissing a line across your jaw and to your throat next, “It might be more…productive.”

You feel dizzy. His hand skirts along your thigh and meets the joint of your hip, squeezing with enough pressure to make you moan.

“If you’re sure,” you say, “It can be…strong.” It’s only fair to warn him, after all. Everyone reacts differently, but you’ve never not seen it work on someone.

“All the better,” he hums against the hollow of your throat, nipping softly at the skin, “I simply won’t have you leaving here disappointed.”

You shift upwards to get access to your pocket. Sorn discards the sodden feather and watches with curious, eager eyes. When you reveal the tiny glass vial, he smirks.

“I see,” is all he says before nodding his head toward the collection of pillows at the head of the bed, “Let’s get more comfortable first, shall we?”

Moments later, you’re lying side by side, both propped up by pillows and surrounded by the soft glowing plants and crystals that make a canopy of the bed. Sorn holds himself up on an elbow and examines the vial that looks comically small in his much larger fingers. You lay your cheek against one of the pillows and stare up at him, still feeling your heartbeat pound in your ears. You’d thought this would have gotten easier after seeing it happen once, but the idea of seeing it happen again is almost worst. Now that you know the sound, know how his lip curls a little, how his eyes flutter—all you want to do is see it more, see him unravel.

“So, just a pinch of this?” Sorn asks. He seems more curious than anything. Like he doesn’t quite totally believe that whatever is in there is actually going to be able to make him sneeze.

“Mhmhm,” you say.

He grins and sets to work. A hefty pinch between his thumb and forefinger is gathered and then quickly—and in a rather sophisticated manner—snorted up one nostril. It doesn’t seem to cause him any harm like you worried it might, and he merely clears his throat once it’s over and brushes his hands off.

“Oh, it’s lovely,” he comments, “Almost medicinal.”

You can’t answer him because you can’t breathe. You’re waiting for something. Anything. A flicker of his expression, a quiver of his nose, something to indicate that the powder is set to work. But nothing happens. Sorn merely looks back at you questioningly.

“When does it start to take effect?” he asks.

“Usually right away.”

He frowns, “Oh. Perhaps I should take more?”

You saw the amount he took. It was already sizable. Any more and you’d be concerned for him. You quickly shake your head, “No, I wouldn’t. Maybe it’s just…slow to start.”

Sorn huffs, his disappointment mirroring your own. He sets the vial aside and turns back to you, pulling you flush against his body. That’s still nice, sneezing or no. Every hard angle of him presses against you and the heat of his skin makes you shudder. He kisses you deeply and you can still smell the slightly earthy scent of the powder on him as you return it.

“I’m terribly sorry,” he murmurs close to your mouth, “I’ve done nothing but disappoint you tonight.”

You blink up at him, “That’s not true!”

He sighs and tucks a bit of your hair behind your ear. “It is, but I promise you, I will make it up to you. We still have plenty of time, and there are other things we can do, besides.”

Sorn dips an arm under you and pulls you flat against the bed, hovering over you. He grins down at you and starts to remove your top.

“Is this alright?” he asks softly.

You nod, nearly choking on your want for him. Everywhere he uncovers bare skin, he lavishes in kisses until you’re bare from the waist up and the two of you are flesh against flesh. His skin sears yours with warmth. He trails fingers down your sternum and then down to your bellybutton, then lower.

“You are a delightful little thing,” he says. His voice is velvet, and his warm breath paints down your ribs as he follows the path of his hand.

You feel the gasp as much as you hear it. It’s a sudden, reckless thing—so quick that neither of you are prepared for it. Sorn’s expression flinches for just a moment and he barely has time to turn his head to the side before a sneeze completely overtakes him—misting your side in the process. “hh-EDSHHH’iuh!”

You’re stunned. Sorn looks like he might be too, if not for the telltale signs of another impending sneeze close behind the first. He shifts and places a hand on your hip as he sits up a little. You watch as his upper lip curls over bright teeth and his nostrils flare once before he wrenches away from you successfully this time. “hhHH’RRSCCH!” This one is stronger than the last, more voice to it. It shakes him and you by extension on the mattress.

“Bless you,” you say, but he shakes his head. His hand squeezes your hip gently as if to say ‘not yet’. “Hih-ih!”

His fist goes to his mouth before you can stop it, and he squelches the last sneeze into submission. His eyes cinch shut and he bends at the waist, shoulders trembling as the colossal sound is contained to nothing more than a whisper. “hHh-nGXST!”

He opens his eyes, though somewhat warily. As if he’s not sure the tickle is quite gone yet. He gives a cagey sniffle and blots his knuckle under his nostrils, “Goodness.” Then, he turns to you and finds your gaze positively enraptured. He smiles.

“I suppose it does work ah-after all!” He rubs at the tip of his nose for a moment and then flutters his eyes, “I do hope you’re ready for more because it seh—seems…”

Your hand goes to his chest. You feel the swell of his breath deepen, the warm feeling of his skin moving under your fingers. Sorn seems to get the idea because his palm reaches up to cover yours. His fingers wrap around your palm as his breath continues to snag. You catch his eyes just for a moment before they slide back.

“hHH’RRSCh’euh!” He trembles under your touch with the force of it. He lifts his head just barely, eyebrows canted desperately, and then pitches downwards again, spraying your arm with abandon. “hh’AEEShhh’ah!”

“Such a tickle,” he says breathily as he recovers. He gives a wet sniffle and smiles at you, but it’s hazy, the look in his eyes already distracted by the mounting itch. But he doesn’t seem bothered by it. If anything, he’s enjoying the newness of the sensation. The break from monotony.

His nostrils flare and he releases his hand to rub his knuckle against his septum once more.

You feel a little bold for asking, “Are you all right?”

He nods, smiling. He tries to hold your eyes but the tickle steals his concentration once more.

“Quite!Just—hh…sn’tsCHh’eeze-hhHH! H’RRSHC’hu!”

You reach your other hand up to stroke through his hair and turn him a little more towards you as he prepares for another. He resists at first out of instinct alone, but adjusts in the moment it takes for the sneeze to have its way with him. As his breath snaps, he ducks his head in the space between you and releases it into your lap. “hh”hRRRASsh’chu!”

“Bless you,” you say, smoothing back his hair. You crawl into his lap and he welcomes you without hesitation, securing your thighs around his hips even as his head tilts back for two more with barely a breath in between. He ducks them between the two of you but there isn’t much space. His hands clench against your thighs with each outburst. “hh-eHH’SCCHE’uh! h’RRSH’ue!”

Blearily, he looks up. He’s dazed. Sniffly. His cheeks are indigo and the area around his nostrils is too. You kiss him, because he just looks so stupidly *kissable* and he murmurs a laugh against your mouth.

“It is quite comforting thatyou find me attractive in such a state,” he sniffs once you pull away.

“Very attractive,” you remind him.

He smiles, and continues smiling even as his expression flickers again. “Ah, one-hh more perhaps,” he says. He raises a hand in front of his face and a rather tired sounding sneeze ripples through him. “hH’EDShh!”

“Bless you.”

“I don’t thhhink I’ve ever snhheezed so much in my life-hh!” He leans his forehead onto your shoulder and does away with using his hand to cover, opting to simply hold onto your hips and let the sensation take him. “hh’UEHDSHH’iu!” You stroke his bare back and feel his ribs expand beneath your fingers before tightening twice in quick succession. “hh’NGXT! nG’ssT!”

He clears his throat after and lifts his head back up, adjusting you on his lap. “Ah, I should have asked, do you prefer if I hold them in or let them out? Often I don’t know which it will be until it happens but… perhaps I could try…try to—”

His eyes roll and he turns his head, giving you a clear view of his twitching profile. “If I could juhhst get through a sehh’ESsch!—sentence!”

“I don’t mind either way, I just don’t want you to hurt yourself if you hold them in,” you say to try and spare him.

“Oh, darling, it takes much more than that to hurt me,” he wriggles his nose handsomely and turns back to you with a devilish grin. His eyebrows raise. “And lo! A full sentence! The effects must be wearing off.” He sniffs experimentally and for the first time, his eyes don’t get hazy in the aftermath.

You feel disappointment sink your heart like a stone. It was bound to wear off eventually. But before you can even lament the course of events, he pats your thigh and shifts you off his lap.

“Come, where’s the vial?”

You blink. Surely he doesn’t want to do more of that?

He seems to know exactly what you’re thinking because he taps the bottom of your chin and winks.

“Oh, we’re far from finished, love. Ready for round two?”

#snzblr #snz kink #snz fic #i didn't proofread this and i probably wont until way too late and that's on me #i dont actually even like this but something in me had me at gunpoint until i posted it #anyway this stupid game is fun #idk if i'll write more for it #but this man demanded to be written #HOPE YOU ARE ALL WELL #SORRY IM NEVER HERE I LITERALLY GO FROM 0 to 100 IN TERMS OF MOOD #but this week the dogs be barkin

46 notes · View notes

kamuucab · 1 year

Text

I love all the drawings where Sun and Moon are in casual clothes. There’s just something so soft, so lovely about them being able to choose what to wear post-Pizzaplex life.

Because I bet they had no choice in what they wore while acting as the Daycare attendants. They had those jester pants, those bells and ruffles, Moon’s nightcap - and that was it. They weren’t allowed anything else. That was their uniform, their “signature” look as an animatronic.

They could get away with some change by playing dress up with the kids, putting on capes and tutus and silly scarves and hats. Acting out different characters, trying to fill that lack of autonomy.

Only able to watch, to yearn as they saw people come and go in t-shirts, in shorts, in flowy dresses and long skirts. Drop sleeves and off the shoulder shirts, crop tops and jeans. Sweatpants. Slacks. To covet, but never have.

Could you imagine being told what to wear every day of your life? The suppression of your self expression, the adamant refusal to see you as a person going so far as to control your body and what you put on it?

It would just drive that knife deeper. You aren’t a person. You have no say in what happens to you. You are to do your job and follow the rules. That’s it.

And when that place burns to the ground, once they’re free. Gosh, a whole world just opens right up. Textiles! Patterns! Silhouettes and necklines!

Sure, there’s a bit of a catch in how tall they are, how oddly proportioned their limbs are as opposed to a humans. But that freedom of choice? It’s well worth the trouble.

Imagine laying out shirts and pants for them to chose from, letting them feel the fabric and try it on. See themselves in the mirror. Letting Sun twirl around in a dress, Moon disappear into a hooded shawl. Let them drape different colours across their bodies, play around with different cuts and styles.

Imagine Sun and Moon choosing comfort after years of performance, allowed to relax for once. Choosing comfort because it allows them to hug you, to cradle you close and keep you warm, keep you happy. A choice made out of both gratitude and affection. You brought them physical and personal freedom; that’s something that can never be topped. They give, instead, a safe place to come home to, and loving arms to fall into.

And of course, lots of fashion shows in the living room.

#five nights at freddy's security breach #fnaf sb #fnaf headcanons #sundrop x reader #moondrop x reader #your honour I’m crying and screaming and tearing out my hair over them #I love them #kamu writes #honestly might make a one shot this concept is making my brain go brrrrrr

103 notes · View notes

theold-ultraviolence · 2 years

Text

Fear of the Dark (3/7)

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: A year after Hawkin’s great ‘earthquake’ Eddie drives to the other side of the country in the hopes of dealing with his trauma in sunny California, where he finds himself infatuated with the lead singer of HEX. Upon getting to know her, he soon realizes that not all monsters live in an upside-down dimension, but not all of them are out to get him… inspired by The Lost Boys!//CW: female!reader / vampire!reader, eventual smut, slow-ish burn, angst with a happy ending. ST4 Spoilers - takes place a year after Vol 2 (no major character death).

Chapter warning: clothed grinding in the first scene, but nothing explicit at all, but I’ll still mark it with a ** if you want to skip it. A/N: let me know if you catch the bit of referenced dialogue from The Lost Boys!

Fic Masterlist / chapter 4

CHAPTER 3. Lost In The Shadows

Your home is secluded, and far enough away from the boardwalk, where the terrain is dry and the sea breeze is faint. That was the thing in California – you had a dichotomy of life and death; the ocean and the desert coexisting in opposite stretches of land. Maybe this is why it’s such a hotspot for some creatures of the night to roam free, where the border between the living and the undead is thin.

You have to climb up a wooden staircase surrounded by flowery vines and overgrown weeds to reach the one-storey plan where you have a rustic kitchen space and bedroom, right above a basement. Regardless of the size of your apartment, it’s cozy, and it has the perfect room to hide yourself away to avoid the sun – or any other peeping tom that could notice the odd hours you keep.

Once you’d helped Eddie to carry up his one suitcase and backpack, you told him to make himself at home and feel free to take a shower, as he might’ve been yearning for one after having been soaking up in the pool of the crowd back at the club.

You smile to yourself while helping to fold out his clothes – with the sound of rushing water keeping you company – and bring out the extra pillows for him, assuming that since there was only one king sized bed and the couch was too small, you’d be sharing it.

After a while, from the bathroom, he coughs to spark your attention and you’re met with the sight of him hiding behind the door, although you could still get a timid glimpse of his body from the backlight: of his hair all drenched and brushed back, towel hanging low around his waist and his skin glistening from the shower steam.

“I’m sorry but, you think you might have a robe or something? A clean hoodie I could borrow? It’s just – I don’t wanna…”

You got it, he wasn’t comfortable showing his scars in this new light, you hadn’t really seen them in detail at the beach. You gently nod your head and reach your tiny dresser, where you find an old robe that you only used over the rest of your sweaters if it got too cold in the winter, as it had been a gift that was several sizes too big on you.

“Here,” you hand him the robe while looking away so as not to make him uncomfortable.

“Thank you.” He lingers, debating on whether he should just remain bare when he’s with you, but ultimately retreats back to dress in his own checkered pajama pants and clean t-shirt, with the robe snuggly wrapped around him, then frees up the space so you could shower now.

“I won’t be long, but you can go ahead and settle down to sleep. The bed’s all ready to go.” You say as you pass him by the threshold of the bathroom.

“Don’t worry, I’ll wait for you.”

You want to say – you don’t have to, you’re safe, get some rest now – but still there’s a disco dance floor inside your chest where your heart is doing twists and turns over him wanting to be near you no matter how tired he must be.

Amidst this dreamy haze you wash yourself and it’s not until after you’ve hopped out of the shower that you realize that you hadn’t brought your set of pajamas to the bathroom, so used to living alone and prancing around naked to refresh yourself from the arid Californian heat, which leaves you in the same predicament that Eddie had been in earlier, but you were much too embarrassed to ask him if he could hand you your underwear and jammies. So you step out into your dimly lit bedroom, droplets adorning your skin as you’re pressing your flimsy towel tighter against your chest.

Eddie’s reclining against the pillows – illuminated by your bedside table alone – sitting up immediately upon glancing at your half-naked form.

“Forgot my clothes,” you mutter awkwardly.

He leans forward, hypnotized by the mere shape of your silhouette in this light – softer amidst the cozyness of your room unlike all the other time’s he's seen you in all your power on top of a stage.

“It’s okay,” he replies, interpreting that maybe you were apologizing rather than stating a fact, so you just smile, looking down at your feet.

“I mean, you can come up here like that, if you want?” He bashfully offers, getting closer to the center of the bed and spreading his legs absentmindedly.

Flushed, and not by the warmth of your shower, you reach the edge of your bed and slowly crawl up until you’re sitting on his lap, arms resting on his shoulders.

“Is this okay?” Eddie asks, palms on your sides rubbing slow, soothing circles all across your curves.

Your eyes go half-mast from pure relaxation, nodding your reply and moaning contentedly as you feel your muscles turn to goo, all thanks to his touch.

When was the last time you’d ever been touched like this? Feels like an eternity now, even though it’d only been a year – time is a funny thing when you don’t grow old. Even then, that doesn’t hold a candle to this moment right here. Eddie’s touch is reverent and tender, betraying the notion of roughness you get from him upon first glance.

“Is this okay?” you throw his line back at him as you fully recline your body against his, feeling the softness of his robe against your naked skin while you nuzzle your head in the crook of his neck. He smells fresh, like he’d used your shampoo and doused a great amount of it, but there’s also that lingering note of cigarette smoke exuding from his breath when he kisses your temple and hums in affirmation.

One arm wraps itself around your lower back while his opposite hand gently cradles the back of your head to turn with you in his embrace and lay you back on the bed with him on top, before capturing your lips in a fervent kiss.

Your towel still hadn’t slipped from you with how tightly Eddie’s glued himself to your body, and with the way his hands keep the fabric in place as he strokes your sides up and down repeatedly, all the while never breaking the kiss. You’ve got your hands on either side of his cheeks, thumbs soothing those precious dimples with each smile that escapes him before he licks into your mouth, grazing the raspy fields of the barely-there stubble that grows along his jaw.

“I’m sorry…” he untangles from you briefly, his lips lightly brushing yours before he continues, “we – we don’t have to do anything tonight if you don’t want to. It’s been an intense evening, we’re both tired.”

Fondness envelops your heart in that moment; he’d gotten hard instantly inside his pajamas, his solid weight pressed against you even underneath the thick layer of the robe yet he didn’t want to go further too quickly. Anyone else would’ve jumped at the opportunity after being presented so easily.

“Maybe we can just…” You sigh against the corner of his lips as your hands travel down his lower back to push him down onto you while simultaneously grinding your hips up against him, offering an enticing alternative. “Maybe we can just get off like this? So that we can fall asleep?”

He nods automatically, and giggles to himself for being so bad at hiding his enthusiasm. “You sure?” he sighs, asking despite him already grinding against you at a tantalizing pace, increasing the pressure more and more.

“Yes, Eddie…” you plan one foot on the bed to add more friction; your hands soothe all across his back to the nape of his neck, thumbs caress the shell of his ear while the kiss endures in its languid rhythm.

“I’m gonna ruin your bathrobe,” he murmurs against your jawline – not in a sultry way in the least, just thinking out loud – making the both of you wheeze a feeble little laugh that turns into a quiet moan with one mouth-watering thrust.

“Hmmm…don’t worry about it…” you whisper before lovingly tucking a lock of hair behind his ear, “I’ll wash it in the morning.”

“Nah, you just tell me where the washing machine is and I’ll do it…” his hand strokes your bent thigh and hooks it behind his back to bring you closer still to him, “it’s my mess.”

You smile and shake your head, thinking — the washing machine is in the basement, you can’t go in the basement — but decide to let it go, to keep kissing those plush lips of his.

Maybe you’ll snatch up his dirty clothes and wash them during the day.

Then, as your fingers cradle the side of his face, at a pause between a kiss, you’re struck with awe at how quickly Eddie’s been slipping through the cracks of your heart, how easily you’re letting him in. You’re scared, you can’t lie to yourself — utterly scared.

But if there’s one upside about this condition of yours, is that your senses are heightened in ways you couldn’t have conceived before.

When you look at those big, big doe eyes of his above you, you’re certain that there’s not even a wavelength of danger radiating off of him.

“Why are you so nice to me, Eddie?” you ponder while you indulge in the feeling of his tamed curls all freshly washed, in contrast with each spark of electricity that shoots through your bare core when his clothed erection slowly brushes against you. “Why me?”

After I’ve olympically pushed you away…

“I just – “ he softly groans in intervals as he speaks, “this is sappy as shit, but I like you a lot. Since the first time I heard you play. You’re a dream.”

You chuckle, arms snaking around his shoulders to hide your face in the crook of his neck because you don’t want him to see the melancholic smile that paints your face upon hearing that.

“Gotta be careful, Eddie,” you whisper right into his temple, nose booping the long line of his neck, catching a whiff of the iron rushing through his blood, “otherwise I might have to keep you forever…”

“Is that a promise?”

“Only if you aren’t afraid of the dark.”

Eddie leans back to look at you — stunned at your ominous words but immediately taken aback by your face.

Your eyes are entirely eclipsed by your pupils in a way he’d even deem supernatural, attributing the amber hue in them to the orange-y light of the bedside lamp.

He cums right in that moment, with your teeth grazing the underside of his jaw, and tongue licking at the artery that traverses his neck.

–

You wake up to a tingling sensation on your arms, where they’re draped across Eddie’s chest.

You disregard it, thinking that’s just your limbs being numb in an awkward position, and nuzzle closer to the sleepy warmth of Eddie’s body.

But soon those tingling embers rise aflame all across your skin, making you hiss as you sit up in a flash and notice that there’s sunlight filtering in from your opaque drapes.

You’d completely disregarded your own sleep schedule in favor of being with Eddie last night – and what a night it had been – but now you’re fleeing from the bed and racing downstairs to the safety of your basement.

You halt for a second and curse at yourself for being so distracted about literally everything in your routine now.

One: the dirty laundry would have to wait, Eddie’s still fast asleep wearing the robe.

Two: you’ve forgotten the tiny insignificant detail that Eddie would need food when he wakes up, and all you have in your fridge is some leftover takeout from when the girls come over to rehearse, as you don’t have a need for normal groceries anymore.

You quickly stick a note on the fridge that reads,

‘Morning, Eddie. I haven’t been able to go to the supermarket so there isn’t much food left in the fridge. Feel free to go out and get whatever you want for yourself and I’ll shop for the basic stuff later, I’ll be out all day rehearsing with the girls. I have a spare key in the counter if you want to go down to the beach. The forecast promises a lot of sunshine – don’t spend it all cooped up inside! I’ll see you in the evening, XO.’

And throw yourself inside the safe confine of your basement, where everything’s sealed and not even the slightest spears of light could get through.

–

Eddie’s heart gets caught in his throat the minute he opens his eyes and feels an absence where your body had blanketed him to sleep last night. He’d be so sure that it had all been a dream if it wasn’t for your lingering scent on the sheets and pillows, and the little dent on the spot beside him on the mattress.

He still feels groggy and well spent as he rises from the bed and drags his feet to the kitchen area to look for you, feeling as hollow as your home is in that moment when you’re nowhere in sight – though he perks up immediately when he sees your note, written in bright yellow paper.

He frowns however, looking to his left at the little clock mounted on the wall signaling it’s just 10:30 AM. You rehearsed this early? Huh.

Now that’s dedication.

He had always gotten together with his band in the evenings, mostly because of school during the weekday, but still, the earliest he’d ever rehearsed on a saturday or sunday was 6 PM. He doesn’t think about that too much but when he’s opening the fridge he frowns even more profusely at the alarming lack of food inside. Jesus Christ, had you even eaten breakfast!?

…Were you struggling economically and just hadn’t told him?

He fixes himself a sad plate of buttered toast and orange juice before dressing for the day and heading downtown all giddy, planning to surprise you with enough groceries for the both of you. Maybe he’ll stop by one of the bakeries he’d spotted there and always wanted to try – bring something freshly made and savory to have for lunch, like some bagels or a couple of paninis. He’d always yearned to do something like this for someone else but the opportunity had never really come.

He didn’t necessarily date much in highschool – date at all. People got what they wanted from him and left. But Eddie had always immensely enjoyed doing little favors for others, giving little details to those he loved – his uncle and friends – and was excited for the chance of doing this for you.

His morning is spent leisurely wandering around the supermarket and the bakery, taking his time under the sun and admiring the colorful streets in a way he hadn’t before, too immersed in his sadness. The people greeted him as he passed by whereas back in Hawkins, everyone recoiled at his mere sight. It helps that he fits right in with this crowd – there are people sporting vibrant mohawks and chains, people dressed in all black or proudly displaying their tattoos, peacefully blending with those in neon jackets, baggy clothes and white sundresses.

As his day progressed, the smile that had risen on his face was as bright as the sun.

Afterwards he takes the long way back home just so that he could roll down the windows of his van and get an afternoon kiss on his face from the sea breeze as he cruises by the boardwalk and looks at the paradise before him. At night, it looks like a realm flung from outer space with the stretched out, rainbow beams of light against the black sky, and a cacophony composed of the mechanical whirls of the rides mixed with children’s laughter and whatever musical act provided the soundtrack from the stage beside the pier.

But during the golden hour, the scenery before him reminds him of a watercolor painting, with the orange tones of the sky dripping into the rich blues of the ocean, and all the people beneath him with sun-bleached curls and a bronze tint to their skin. Maybe he’d take you out on a date here tomorrow, if you’ll let him. And maybe this time he’ll be brave enough to take off his shirt and properly enjoy Santa Monica unrestrained.

He makes it back to your apartment and feels bummed that you’re still nowhere in sight, but he carries on regardless, putting away the groceries and fixing up two plates on the little kitchen counter space you have, to have yourselves a late lunch.

As he’s unloading the groceries, his loving reveries are interrupted by a sudden knock on the door.

“Oh, hi Eddie!” Lara’s face greets him first, “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Hi!” He’s suddenly thrown off by all of HEX being here…without you? And his eyes widen in confusion when he sees Tawny carrying your guitar-case.

“We’ve just come to drop this off!” Tawny motions for the instrument in her hands, handing it to him “We took care of packing everything up after you guys left The Rabbit.”

“Oh, wasn’t – I thought she was with you?” Eddie asks, unease settling in the pit of his stomach and a curtain of awkwardness falls on top of the four people standing on opposite sides of your doorstep.

“What!? No, we haven’t seen her all day.” Daphne replies.

“She left me a note saying that she’d be out rehearsing with you all day…that she’d be back in the evening?”

“Oh shoot! And she hasn’t returned?” Daphne and Lara exchange knowing glances, before Tawny murmurs, “Well the sun is still out –¨

“ – SHHH! Tawny…”

“ – What does that have to do with anything?” Eddie frowns, getting more and more annoyed at how HEX is shamelessly covering up something unknown to him.

“It’s nothing!” Lara continues, “I’m sure she’ll be here soon, she probably mixed up our rehearsal date and is out doing errands. Well…see ya around, Eddie!”

Errands?

The girls wave their goodbyes but whisper to one another as they frantically make their way down the wooden stairs, leaving Eddie dumbfounded by the door.

He feels sick as he carefully reclines the guitar against your couch before pacing around the kitchen, where he grumpily puts on the coffee pot he’d been craving to accompany the assortment of pastries he’d gotten for dessert.

The rich scent wafting around the kitchen from the percolator eases his mood somewhat, but suddenly it all comes back to him tenfold when the basement door creaks open and there you are, with a deer-in-headlights look, frozen with your hand around the handle.

“Eddie!”

“Had a good rehearsal?” Fuck he sounds so petty, but he couldn’t help it. What is he? A jealous husband?

“ –I, yeah –”

“ – Don’t bullshit me, if there’s one thing I hate is fucking liars.” He winces internally at how cold he’s suddenly turned, but it’s out of his control. “Your bandmates came over to return your guitar.”

“Eddie, I can explain –”

“ – I may look stupid, but I’m not.” He abandons the little carboad box of pastries and marches down to meet you in the middle of your living room, “Yes, I don’t come from much, was a burnout in school and was fucking raised in a trailer park but I’m not stupid! So don’t play games with me. I know you lied to me.”

“Eddie, I –”

“Why did you even come up from your basement?”

“Eddie, LISTEN TO ME!”

You’re on him in a flash, face-to-face, grabbing him by the collar of his t-shirt.

Your eyes turn into those same amber orbs he’d thought he’d imagined last night, mouth flashing him a peak of two pointed fangs as you yell at him.

“Look at my reflection in the mirror!” You shake him, before taking his jaw between your fingers and directing his gaze to the vintage mirror mounted above your couch.

He goes absolutely pale — eyes flicking desperately between you in front of him and what he sees to his side.

Or rather, what he doesn’t see.

It’s like the fucking club scene in ‘Fright Night’ with Chris Sarandon and Amanda Bearse – only, how can it be real!?

He looks at you all spooked, visibly gulping down, bottom lip wobbling with fear when you yell,

“I’m a creature of the night, Eddie! Just like out of a comic book! I’m a VAMPIRE!”

chapter 4 (up next)

taglist: @nihilnat @sweet--em @starsandroots @dumpsterfirecee @squirrelgirl23 @totallynotkaibiased @mopeymopeymouse @eyeforissues @psychobitchsthings @maryan028 @grungegrrrl

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #female reader #reader insert #fanfiction #stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction #joseph quinn #my writing #slow burn #romance #angst with a happy ending

96 notes · View notes

muckety-mucks-i-s-goin-delux · 1 year

Text

Ok buckle up cos I'm about to tell you why 92sies Santa Fe hits HARDER than Livesies and Uksies

Not to say that JeJor's Santa Fe doesn't hit hard, it does but for different reasons

First of all, in Livesies we have a Santa Fe (prologue) so we know that it's something Jack dreams of and wants to go there because he's feeling suffocated in New York. And I kind of always read that as a companion song to Carrying the Banner because that one puts Jack in the position of a leader right off the bat. He's feeling responsible for the newsies or at least the ones that live in the lodging house. It also makes sense because viewing those songs together it's clear that while Jack loves the newsies he's feeling like he's got no options no future in the city. He wants a breather, where he is not responsible for others, he's not being chased and put in jail for helping and protecting others. He wants to be the one who is protected. When Crutchie asks him "You got folks there?" He bitterly says "I got no folks, nowhere" and even though he's so defensive about it deep down he wants that. He might not had parents or had abusive parents and ran away from home we don't know that's but it's interesting that even though he says he doesn't need them he still created in his head that image of loving and welcoming comunity. That's why he's so SURE saying "Folks walk up right and say, welcome home son, welcome home to Santa Fe". For me it's incredibly important that he says "son" and "home". That is clear indication that deep down he is yearning for someone to take care of him, take this incredibly heavy burden of his shoulders and let him just be.

And in Santa Fe, he's even more frustrated with not being able to protect others. He lead them to think strike was a good idea and they got hurt. Crutchie is in the Refuge. And it's all. His. Fault. And later on that's why he decides to 'betray' the others because if Jack can protect others, if there is a way to ensure they will be safe he will take it, no matter the cost. And listen Jack isn't stupid, he knows he can never go there because there is no way that a homeless kid selling papers can get himself to Santa Fe but he needs this dream, because his family is here and he needs them to be safe but at the same time he's a KID and he needs to be safe too. And if noone is going to provide for him, well then he'll make up a city made of clay where he'll be free to play, to mess around, where he will be welcome and taken care of.

And in the end he stays in New York because he feels like he doesn't need to be the ONLY one that is responsible for the newsies and is the only one protecting them because the newsies, Davey and Katherine have his back and would do everything for him as well. He's still looked up to but he has definite help now in dealing with everything. He learns to rely on other people to help him and take care of him. That Santa Fe can be people if he lets them.

Now 92sies

Now in 92sies Santa Fe is placed after Carrying the Banner and we only have few comments in between how Jack wants to go to Santa Fe. Also, so far Jack is shown as someone who's looked up to, but mainly because he sells most papers and kind of just is? He's escaped the Refuge and that made him famous but so far in the movie there is nothing to indicate that he's the leader or feel somewhat responsible for the other newsies.

What is important what Jack says in those few comments about Santa Fe that precede the song is that he's got folks there. We can see that David thinks it bullshit and frankly so did I because why would his folks be in New Mexico and he was living in NYC hawking papers? But I say it's important he talks about his parents because the following scene, at the Jacobs is absolutely heartbreaking. Seeing a happy family, that little interactions they have during supper is like a punch in a gut for Jack. That's why he starts with (what always makes my heart twist):

"So that's what they call a family. Mother, daughter, father son. Guess that everything you heard about is true.

So you ain't got any family. Well who said you needed one? Ain't you glad, nobody's waiting up for you?"

And later on he finishes with

"So that's what they call a family. Ain't you glad that you ain't that way. Ain't you glad you got a dream called Santa Fe"

92sies Jack dream is not Santa Fe (neither is Livesies!Jack rather what it represents but it's different for them. Livesies!Jack wants safety and security for himself. He might think it's a little selfish that's why instead of saying it he just makes a whole ass place) it's family. Now you might say that, well Jack had, has and will have the newsies.

Well the thing is, that Livesies!Jack does, he treats them as family and sees himself responsible for them. 92sies!Jack doesn't.

First he's shown as just another kid, the camera focuses on him more of course because he's the protagonist but other than that he isn't much talkative with other boys. At the beginning only Mush asks him "How'd you sleep Jack?" But the others just do their thing and so does Jack.

In the evening when he returns to the Lodging he exchanges greetings with Race, and they are similar in a way. They just do their things. Other newsies either returned to their families or to the Lodging much earlier so it seems and they are the two independent ones who come and go and they please.

Even as a leader I questioned why the hell he's in charge. He seems to know as much about what he's doing as the next guy and he doesn't seem that component doing it. Why not give this role to Kid Blink? Or Mush or Crutchie or Race? (Missed opportunity to make it actually historically accurate but ok) Jack is popular, yes but why? He sells most papers. He escaped the Refuge, sure. (Although if I remember correctly it's not stated explicitly why he was there? Not like Livesies!Jack who was stealing for the kids there) I might be wrong so let me know.

But he's just there. He is part of the group but does not consider newsies his family. He's constantly looking for one and he thinks Santa Fe is the answer. He says "I'm alone but I ain't lonely. For a dreamer nights the only time of day" Santa Fe is security. It's "a feelings that time can never take away".

But 92sies Jack is not so sure that's it's going to be all unicorns and rainbows when he gets there. Unlike Livesies!Jack who is convinced that's the place, or trying to convince himself and Crutchie, Bale says:

"Santa Fe, are you there? Do you swear you won't forget me? If I found you would you let me come and stay?"

Will he also fit in there? Will he find his family? Will he have what the Jacobs have? He had this perfect picture in his head. He and his family, happy and then he's brutally faced with reality, well with Davey's reality and finally see that what he thinks is a pipe dream is normal for others.

+ West Endsies

I think that Michael!Jack intentions are much like JerJors although his Santa Fe is more like a fever dream, he barely makes it up that fire escape and it's not that just he's angry or resigned it's almost as if he can see Santa Fe right there and wants it to take him in into safety but I've only seen Uksies twice and it was a hot minute so if anyone wants to add to that please do

39 notes · View notes

theofficersacademy · 4 months

Text

Forsyth Byleth (F) Andrei Lachesis Naesala Selena (FE8) Chrom Yarne Hilda Katarina Ephidel Saizo Isadora Eir

TEAM TAG: #AOtheta2024 CORPSE COUNT: 0. PUBLIC OPINION: POSITIVE [65/100]

Where does this portal go? You walk for what feels like a whole continent's distance, uncertain, for a destination you still hold little concept of as of yet. There's a presence that keeps you company, however, winding its way into the very fabric of this dimension.

Keranes, you intuit as if you have known her for most of your life. The more you walk, the more you feel certain that must be her name. She guides you, takes you closer towards where you must go through the creation of the skies and the earth. Before you, she makes your whole world. There is another presence making this world too, you know deep in your soul, but she does not make it alongside you.

She is farther off, you think. Keranes is here with you however.

But Keranes grows weary. You sense her compassion morph in her exhaustion, and the woods around you begin to rot, beckoning you even further into the safety you yearn for.

My love, my light.

You begin to grow strange and numb in this world. You had entered to pursue your quarry, but this world... the longer you stay, the farther you walk, the more this sense of unease bleeds into you.

When will we return to the surface?

And that's when you reach your paradise at last: the village of Rusalka. But you are no less exhausted from the pilgrimage.

The Circumstances

Rusalka is built into what appears to be a massive pit and is covered by a dome. Inside, the weather and temperature remains constant so it's easy to forget about the summer rains and heat beyond. Additionally, the village is entirely self-sufficient. Clothing, furniture, food, and medicine are all produced within its territory, and the crops grow year-round here, both out in the fields and in the many impressive greenhouses scattered around the village.

Before you enter the village, Keranes tells you all that in order to dismantle this world and the ill powers within it, there need to be some sacrifices. Seven of Rusalka's inhabitants, specifically ones from a group she calls ‘The Newcomers’, must be killed and their corpses left someplace outside the village walls. It does not matter which of them die nor how, but she will return by the end of the week to retrieve the corpses to help you end Rusalka and the evil power lurking and building within here. It is the Newcomers’ spirits that are keeping the place stable, so it would seem.

Upon arriving, the village's inhabitants turn out to have some very familiar faces. Amidst the residents are fourteen people: Python, Jeralt, Brigid, Diarmuid, Reyson, Vigarde, Emmeryn, Panne, Holst, Kris, Nergal, Ryoma, Harken, and Hel. Together, they make up a group the village calls ‘The Newcomers.’ They claim to have arrived some time ago and that they've been waiting for you to join them in living in this paradise forever. You are safe here so long as you stay inside the village, they insist, and now have the ability to be in a world free from pain. They dress in hemp tunics and shoes with vibrant hues, and you truly have never seen them happier. Despite their familiarity to you, you cannot help but feel greatly unnerved by their happiness somehow…

Due to the efforts of the Newcomers vouching for you, your party has been tentatively allowed to stay within Rusalka. For now, the fourteen of you are sleeping in one of the village's largest buildings, being granted accommodations as a group. The village expects you to pitch in whilst you stay; paradise, as happy as it can be, still requires hands to help sustain it!

The Newcomers insist you join them. Keranes and your mission asks that you end them. The clock is ticking. You will have to make a choice.

What Do I Do?

Make your case. Keranes made it very clear that at least seven people need to be dead by the end of the week. If there's an inhabitant you wish to save, this is your chance to try and persuade your teammates within your threads to keep them alive. Alternatively, if you believe someone should die, this is also your opportunity to argue why and try to convince them to take your side.

Commit murder. If you don't think cooperating and discussing with your peers is enough, or you wish to make their choice a little easier by making it so there are less people to save, you could always take matters into your own hands. A guide on this system will be in the next section.

Complete tasks and assimilate into the village. You still need to find a way to survive within this realm, unable to find your way out of here now. This is the only civilization for miles. It might do you well to get on the village's good side while you're stuck here... or at least figure out more about where you even are.

How to End a Life

If you wish to murder one of the village inhabitants before the week is over, DM your Team GM, Mod N. N will ask you who you wish to kill as well as how you wish to commit the murder in very basic terms for the sake of flavoring the death.

In the team channel, N will then ping the teammate most closely associated with the inhabitant you are trying to kill. That person alongside N (on behalf of the murderer so as to preserve their anonymity) will roll a 1d20 each. If N's roll result is equal to or higher than the number the other person rolled, you will have been successful with your murder and the corpse will be available for the group to discover.

If N rolls lower, the inhabitant will survive the encounter but will be unable to recall who tried to murder them.

If you wish to kill your own most closely associated inhabitant, you can. The process shall be the same except that you will be rolling for the sake of your inhabitant and N will still be rolling on behalf of your murder attempt. This is to keep up your anonymity, but your muse is free to reveal to their teammates that they murdered (or at least tried to in case you failed) that person if they truly wish to.

If the group would instead prefer to execute an inhabitant together, you can set this up. To instigate a potential village execution, ping N in the team channel with a name of an inhabitant since this will be treated as a public matter that all the muses will be discussing IC. N will create a form and ping the whole team to decide the fate of that specific inhabitant. If a simple majority is achieved within the next 24 hours, then the execution shall automatically be successful. More than one public execution vote can be running at the same time. In the event of a successful execution, how the group chooses to do it can be flavored by you all, but the village does make a point of noting how dangerous the world is outside of the village if you wanted some ideas...

You are allowed to kill more than seven village inhabitants if you would like. If the group fails to obtain a minimum of seven corpses by the end of the week, ███ ████ █████ ██████ ██.

How you choose to accumulate corpses will influence Public Opinion. The more private/secretive the method, the less public opinion you shall lose for each death. The more public, the more you lose for each death. ㅤ- Successful Murder Attempts: -1 per corpse ㅤ- Unsuccessful Murder Attempts: -1 per attempt ㅤ- Group-Voted Execution (Private Method): -5 per corpse ㅤ- Group-Voted Execution (Public Method): -10 per corpse

Tasks [ Resource Key / Team Document ]

Investigate outside of the village walls. The inhabitants strongly discourage this, but if you must go, they insist you do not go alone. [Max 4 muses per thread] ㅤ- Lose -1 Public Opinion per post ㅤ- Once you reach 5 posts in the thread, ping N.

Harvest the fields [Max 2 muses per thread] ㅤ- Grants 2lbs of vegetables per post ㅤ- Gain +1 Public Opinion per post

Forage in the specified forest outside of the village. The inhabitants direct you to this one as the one they frequent, but they still request that you don’t tarry overlong outside the village walls. [Max 3 muses per thread] ㅤ- Grants 1 basket of a random resource (berries, nuts, mushrooms, herbs, flowers) per post. Roll 1d5 every post to determine which resource you gain. ㅤ- Authority rank of C or higher grants knowledge of which plants are safe, coaxing the villagers to tell you this information beforehand. If no muses of C-rank Authority or higher are participating in this thread, roll a d4 for each basket. If 1, then that basket will turn out to be poisonous. ㅤ- Every 5 posts, roll a 1d5. If 1, ping N.

Assist with chopping wood [Max 2 muses per thread] ㅤ- Gain +1 Public Opinion per post ㅤ- Axe rank of C or higher grants multiplier of 2x

Help make medicine [Max 2 muses per thread] ㅤ- Gain +1 Public Opinion per post ㅤ- Every 5 posts creates one Vulnerary ㅤ- Faith rank of C or higher increases effectiveness; creates Concoctions instead of Vulneraries ㅤ- Apothecary Class Mastery increases speed to one creation every 3 posts instead of 5

Help with chores (e.g. mending clothes, cooking food for the village, making tools) [Max 3 muses per thread] ㅤ- Gain +1 Public Opinion per post

Care for the village ranch animals [Max 3 muses per thread] ㅤ- Potentially grants resource depending upon involved animal ㅤ- Gain +1 Public Opinion per post ㅤ- Riding/Flying rank of C or higher grants multiplier of 2x for Public Opinion only

Fortify the village walls ㅤ- Lose -1 Public Opinion per post

Important Notes

This event is mostly meant to be driven by the players rather than being ushered by your GM at every turn. Please take note that while the tasks above will contribute to the narrative of the campaign, you are not limited to only threading about the tasks above. You are free to write threads unrelated to the tasks if you so wish, so long as they take place within the setting of the event.

In addition to the above, if writing a task thread, please indicate it either in the title post of your thread or in your starter so that it is clear from the start.

Also, task threads are not limited to only featuring writing directly about the task at hand. You are encouraged to write character exploration and conversations outside of the scope of just the task as your characters carry them out. Please feel free to have your muses discuss the plot or anything else currently on their mind. See these tasks as a way to get characters together physically in one space, but the narrative freedom you are allowed is still just the same as most other threads too.

There is currently no time limit rule for when posts need to be written, but please remain in open communication with your thread partners/teammates. Shorter posts are encouraged to help keep things moving and for relationships to progress along with the narrative.

"Good" or "Bad" outcomes will still progress the campaign, so don't feel too stressed about needing to "win" this event. The primary focus on this event should be character development and building relationships with your teammates. Actions have consequences, but all consequences can have narrative potential for exploration.

The team document was linked up above, but here is another link to Team Theta's team document if you require it. This will also be pinned in your team channel. Whilst it will be updated in certain areas by your GM, players should do their best to update the thread tracker on it with link to thread replies and any notes they might wish to jot down whether for their own sake or for helping their teammates stay in the loop.

If you have any questions at any time or require additional information, ping Mod N.

#TOAApollyonOuranos2024 #AOtheta2024

3 notes · View notes

eddiemunsonappreciationsociety · 1 year

Text

My Word Is My Bond

Part Two: You're addictive, so indicative of my inhibitions

After Eddie leaves, I stare at where he sat for a minute or so. I am trying to calm my heart down, but it's not working, thumping a groove into my ribs. I take another steadying breath, grab my bag and leave without even saying goodbye to Stella.

The night is dark, I am incredibly skittish as I walk the short way from the bar to home. My platform boots click along the cobbled streets as I wind down the back alley to get to the stairs that lead to the flat above my shop. I quietly head up the metal stairs to my door, finding my hands shaking as I try to put the key in the right lock. My fingers fumble and they fall to the floor.

Fuck.

As I rifle through my bag I can hear Chance scratching at the door, wanting to see me. I quickly find the little glass vial with black pepper in it and sprinkle it over the dropped keys before picking them up and letting myself in. My large french mastiff jumps at me, drooling with happiness. I allow myself to be briefly comforted by the familiar smell of lavender and smoke and the feeling of Chance's soft fur under my fingers. As soon as the doors locked behind me I head to the largest bedroom, which I have turned into my workroom, followed by the dog's nails softly clicking on the wooden floor as she sticks to my side.

Every wall is covered in large, rosewood bookshelves, three of the walls of square cubby holes are filled with ingredients, crystals, little vial bottles, and other elemental objects needed in my work and life. The last wall of shelving is filled with books, framing a huge rosewood desk, cluttered with half-unfurled scrolls, crystals, and half-made spell jars.

I quickly get to work, first gathering all the obsidian I can, going around the flat, and placing them on my doorways and windows, anywhere that could potentially be an entrance into my home. My eyes search my bookshelves, looking for the cracked leather spine of Protecting Yourself from the Supernatural.

I find it, find the page on vampire repellents and grab some glass jars and vials and begin stuffing them with garlic, rosemary, and salt - stopping briefly as the smell of these ingredients reminded me of roast potatoes - before continuing to add some moon water, silver shavings, and cemetery dirt.

Once I have three of these jars assembled I begin to place them around the flat, before going to my alter, I fill the cup with red wine, and the bowl with salt and pour frankincense over these before placing my keys next to these offerings.

"I invoke the power of Janus, and offer these gifts in exchange for safety this night, please keep me safe in my home and do not allow anyone with bad intentions to cross my thresholds." I murmur as I light the incense stick in its holder.

I bow my head, reciting the blessing again and once my ritual is done I feel myself relax. Exhaustion creeps into me. I climb off the floor and head to my bedroom. The majority of the floor space is taken up by my huge bed, I dive into my duvet, Chance already snoring on it, head barely hitting the pillow before I'm falling asleep, my last fleeting thought of smoldering dark eyes.

The next morning the sunlight creeps over my still fully dressed body, waking me gently. I feel so rested it takes a moment for me to remember last night. Panic grabs at my heart briefly but it dissipates quickly, replaced by a feeling I am surprised by. It's almost a yearning, I want to see Eddie again.

Why?

Do I have a death wish?

Let's not go down that road.

I try and shake my head free of these thoughts as I pull myself out of bed and head to the kitchen to feed the furbaby. I begin to boil sweet potatoes and pull salmon out of the fridge. Chance is padding around the kitchen, tail wagging as I make her breakfast.

"You eat better than I do." I laugh as I mash more vegetables with fish oil and walnut oil.

Just as the potatoes are nearly done I switch on the coffee machine, head to the bathroom, and start running the bath.

"We're multitasking today Little Miss," I say to Chance as she stands in the bathroom doorway, glaring at me for daring to do anything other than focus on her food.

I head back into the kitchen, ignoring my reflection as I catch sight of it, insane hair and makeup remnants all over my face. I finish the dog's food, mashing sweet potatoes and salmon into the bowl and placing it on the floor next to her freshly filled water bowl. I drop a little bowl of coconut water next to the others for her and I see her glance at it as she dives facefirst into her sweet potato.

The coffee machine makes a noise letting me know it's ready to go and I fix myself an iced oat latte, finally adding a dash of vanilla syrup, in my favourite pink glass, taking it into the bathroom, my rolling box tucked under my arm, to finish running my bath. My bathroom shelves are just a smaller version of my crafting room - vials of essential oils, dried flowers and plants, crystals and even some homemade bath bombs.

I grind up weed, dried rose, lavender, and some CBD flower and roll myself a serenity joint. I spark it, turn the taps off and begin to smoke as I throw various things into the bath to make me feel a little better. The smell of my house and shop, and sometimes me, can be overwhelming for some people but it's unavoidable in my line of work and my genes.

I throw in pink Himalayan salt, rose water, jasmine, and dried rose in the steaming bath and sink into the water. The burn is soothing to my body. I smoke my joint and sup my iced coffee, enjoying the tingly sensation of the water, the bath spell seeping its way into my skin and soul. I let my head sink under the water and allow myself to be submerged.

It's only after I have sat in the water for half an hour I realise what I have been sitting in. I jump out of the bath so quickly that I get water everywhere. I pull the plug and step into the shower to try and cleanse myself of the love spell bath I'd just been sat in.

What the fuck is wrong with me.

My mind flashes with brown eyes and a lopsided smile.

Fuck.

My subconscious is a horny bitch.

#eddie #eddie fanfic #eddie munson #eddie smut #vampire eddie #vampire eddie munson #modern!eddie munson #modern! eddie #weed #smoke #witch #witch aesthetic #vampire romance #witch x vampire #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

11 notes · View notes

hildathesaint · 1 year

Text

Hilda's Herborium: Oak Tree/Acorns

This is a new series I am starting on magickal herbs and plants and their folklore from around the world! (feel free to request!) I am starting with a very significant plant in the history of paganism: The Acorn.

Scientific name: 450+ Species which fall under the genus Quercus

Native Habitat: North America, Europe, Asia, Africa

Magickal qualities:

Oak

-wisdom

-stability

-protection

-endurance

-regeneration

Acorns

-luck

-protection

-abundance

-potential

Folklore:

Oak trees have been considered sacred for an extremely long time. The Indo-European tribes (late Neolithic period, so 6,000-4,000BC) worshipped oaks and connected them with thunder and lightning. Oak trees are first mentioned in the mid 400s BC by Heroditus, who believed that oaks held the gift of prophecy in their branches.

In Greek Mythology, the oak was sacred and was associated with Zeus. Zeus' oracle in Epirus still has a sacred oak tree to this day, where priests would try to interpret messages from the gods by listening to the rustling of its leaves. The oak is also a sign of regeneration because of the confrontation between Zeus and Hera, which devastated the land with a torrential downpour. It was the first thing to sprout from this ravaged land.

Similarly, in Norse mythology the oak was associated with Thor. The tree was said to attract lightning more than any other trees, and druids would often collect fallen acorns after storms. They would then put the acorns on their windowsill as a sign of respect to Thor and for protection from lightning. The Celtic word for Oak is "duir" which linguists believe to be the source for Druid. Duir also means "door" which could mean the oak tree opens a path to other realms or levels of awareness.

Celtic Witches used to exchange acorns to each other to let them know they were witches and were in safe company, much like Christians did with the symbol of the Ichtys.

Many stories and legends also mention oaks.. One popular story is the “Oak King” and the “Holly King,” which tells of two kings who rule over the cycle of the year, with the Oak King ruling the light half of the year and the Holly King ruling during the dark half. Another legend is the “Wishing Oak,” which granted wishes to those who whispered their desires to its trunk.

Quotes about Oak trees:

An infinity of forest lies dormant within the dreams of one acorn – Wayne Dyer

Each human being is bred with a unique set of potentials that yearn to be fulfilled as surely as the acorn yearns to become the oak within it. – Aristotle

Within a tiny acorn, a mighty oak is waiting! Great things always start small, so embrace beginnings and take joy in the journey – Pearl Sanborn

I could faintly smell the ocean. I imagined being one of the old oak trees standing there swaying in the wind and braving all sorts of weather. I pondered what they had seen in the past and what they might see in the future — Nancy B. Brewer

Giant oak trees ... have deep root systems that can extend two-and-one-half times their height. Such trees rarely are blown down regardless of how violent the storms may be. — Joseph B. Wirthlin

Our ordinary mind always tries to persuade us that we are nothing but acorns and that our greatest happiness will be to become bigger, fatter, shinier acorns; but that is of interest only to pigs. Our faith gives us knowledge of something better: that we can become oak trees. — E.F. Schumacher

How do you not love a place where the faded beads from a parade six years before still hang in the branches of the live oak trees. — Rick Bragg

Only something as insane as human beings would ever asked themselves if 'I'm good.' You don't find oak trees having existential crisis. 'I feel so rotten about myself. I don't produce as much acorns as the one next to me.' — Adyashanti

#paganblr #paganism #witchcraft #witchblr #mythology and folklore #mythology #nature #oak leaves #oak tree #acorns #green witch #hilda's herborium

5 notes · View notes

samwilsonsbabymama · 2 years

Note

Oh I gotchu

(Tw: obsession//stalking//kidnapping)

What if Sam found you at the bank where he got declined a bank loan... He saw you helping that sweet old lady who never seemed to understand a bank account and how the bank at this point could be trusted. So he sets out to find out who you really are. And once he finds where you live, where you go to college, where you drink your coffee even to the little things like where you like to get your gas for your car, he sets out to find who you know and who knows you.

He has a whole board about you in his office, linking you to each place he has seen you at, to which person you talk to. Now its finally go time. He cleans out his basement, making a little sound proof room just for you. Special shackles chained to the ground to keep you where he likes you, and the perfect amount of sunlight to make you yearn to be outside again. But he doesn't hurt you. Not unless he has to, but he's captain America! He should be here to save you! But youre confused when he sets down the tray of food at the foot of your bed. Everything comes back to you, and scamper to the corner of the bed, as far away from him as you can be.

"Oh come on princess, don't be scared. Ive already saved you, you don't have to worry about me..."

He says as he palms himself at the sight of you in just his boxers and a loose t-shirt.

(Feel free to add onto this, but I hope you like it!)

Yes!

And imagine that you've been locked up for a while and he thinks that he's broken you

But you manage to escape but you don't get far before he catches you

And he gets even more sinister once he's got you again

He spends every night inside of you reminding you that it'll be harder to run with his baby inside of you

After months and months of Sam trying to knock you up, it falls to the back burner

His main focus once again becomes breaking you

And one day after being held captive for a while you realize that he's everything you've been waiting for

You stop fighting him and accept that you're his now

Of course he thinks it's a trick but after you not trying to runaway after many opportunities he realizes that you've accepted him

You've now graduated from living in his basement to living upstairs

He's even introduced you to Sarah and you absolutely love her and she you

You spend your days doting on Sam and keeping him happy

That is until your first bout of morning sickness

You'll do any and everything you can to keep your baby safe and away from Sam

I just!!!! Soni was just thinking about Stockholm Syndrome earlier today and I know I didn't go that way fully but so many things could be done here!!!! Thank you for sending me this!!!! I absolutely loved reading and adding to it 💖💖💖💖

Feel free to send me more 💖💖💖

#sam wilson needs more love #asks #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson x black reader #anonymous #sam wilson x plus size!black reader #sam wilson x black!reader

24 notes · View notes

memepocalypse · 11 months

Text

Californian Soil

Starters and memes built from the lyrics from London Grammar's Californian Soil album!

Californian Soil

"I left my soul on Californian soil."

"I left my pride."

"I never had a willing hand."

"I never had a plan."

"I'm glad I found you here."

"You do what you're told."

"This life is just a game."

"They keep trying it on."

Missing

"I wish I was your favourite."

"The dogs who love the drama."

"She's in the kitchen."

"She's cooking up a real storm for you."

"Everyone's got their own idea of right and wrong."

"I worry that one day you'll go missing."

"Who will notice when you're gone?"

"Love to see you happy again."

Lose your Head

"I need to learn."

"It's a mirror, baby."

"Can you see all those parts of me broken across the world?"

"I need to find some kind of peace of mind."

"Have you got a friend in the night?"

"You say you miss me now."

"What a way to lose your head."

"What a way to go to bed."

Lord it's a Feeling

"I saw the way you made her feel."

"I saw the way she tried to hold you."

"You heart was just a shell."

"That broke my heart."

"It was a living hell."

"You laughed behind her back."

"You fucked somebody else."

"Lord it's a feeling."

How Does it Feel

"Let it burn."

"Do you yearn for a change?"

"I hope that you've learned to never make the same mistake."

"Do you think about me when you're alone?"

"Where will you go?"

"Do you think about us?"

"How does it feel?"

"Will you call me tonight?"

Baby it's You

"All these lights are changing."

"I don't even care."

"I don't wanna move.

"All I see is you."

"Nothing else matters."

"Baby it's you."

"There's an ocean here."

Call Your Friends

"I saw the way you made her feel."

"She should be somebody else."

"Your heart was just a shell."

"I saw the words she wrote that broke my heart."

"It was a living hell."

"I saw the way you laughed behind her back."

"I know you think the stars align for you."

"Lord, it's a feeling."

All My Love

"Oh, darling."

"I see all of your colour drain from you."

"I feel all of your energy."

"I see your shadow."

"People, they want more from you."

"All my love."

"Oh, ever since I was a child."

"I kept a place in my heart safe for you."

Talking

"All of these changes."

"Visions that wake me."

"Leaders mean nothing to me."

"I see you in dark corners."

"Are we talking now, baby?"

"There is a life here for free."

"All of these roads are leading to nowhere."

"When this world ends as we know it, what's left will be you and me."

I need the Night

"There's a voice."

"It is chastizing me."

"I was so cold."

"What had become of me?"

"Give me a dream and I will give you my word."

"I need the night."

"I need this drink."

"Will you sit with me?"

America

"And I hope that you find it."

"I hope that you stay young and wild and free."

"You'll have America."

"I hope that you're better than all of your friends."

"I hope that they hold you until the end."

"She never had time for me."

"All of our time chasing a dream."

"And yes, my looks, they'll go away."

#roleplay #meme #rp meme #roleplay meme #london grammar #lyric meme #californian soil

6 notes · View notes

blissfulalchemist · 2 years

Text

WIP Wednesday!

Wow it’s uh actually Wednesday for once….any way tagged most recently by @adelaidedrubman and @shallow-gravy I’m sure there’s more but they have been buried 😔 apologies. Sending out tags to: @belorage @florbelles @strafethesesinners @heroofpenamstan @blackreaches @shellibisshe @preachercuster @jackiesarch @confidentandgood @themarcspector @celestialissues @folklyric @indorilnerevarine and anyone else that wants too!

This one is a little long (possibly idk maybe I went to bed at 5am so brain is weird but! lord knows when I’ll get to having many wips to pick from) but have what may very well be an au or canon (don’t know yet gotta get through SB to see) for FFXIV with Siberite and Thancred. Minor brushes of spoilers but may be more of a iykyk kind of deal.

It was perfect, thought out, and destined to happen. He was ready to take the hit, ready to do everything he could to protect her, make sure she’d be there to continue to bring the hope this world needed, it was a perfect plan….

She knows and sees the blast coming, sees the trajectory is straight for her, and can feel that this is going to hurt much more than the other’s she’s taken. She just has to brace herself, just has to accept that this might be the end, a hero’s ending. In an instant though she can see him coming, see that he’s bracing himself to stand before her, and in an instant she’s back on that roof. The sound of metal armor as he yells at her to look out, how much force hit the shield that held its own for longer than she assumed, and the small smile he gives her while his eyes fill with worry. The cracking, that loud and undeniable cracking sound that’s followed by the thud of his body against stone.

Not again….

Not again.

Not. Again.

She just needs a single step forward and a motion to push him to the side, something she can do in an instant….and she does. She does and can feel the last of her chakra power flow into that shove before the strange cold and heat of the blast hits her skin. Its a strange sensation to be so still and feel like you’re being pushed back into the center of the earth. To be able to see still through the blinding light, but a comfort to see that he’s safe, to see that they all are. The edges of her vision darken as her body finally relaxes to fall back and there’s a calm that washes over her. Its what she’s wanted….all this time she had wished to finally be free of the expectations, the guilt, the heartache, the weight of the world on her shoulders, but still there’s a part of her that can’t help but be sad, remorseful, yearning to live as she sees his face fall into horror. We were so close weren’t we? So close to some kind of happy ending….

“Siberite!” Thancred calls out as the magic blast dissipates and [REDACTED] laughs darkly, grabbing onto the hilt of his sword. Thancred grinds his teeth pulling weapons free as he sprints to her, the meeting blades sending off a high pitched sound. He lets out a kick and another and another parry and anything to get him back just far enough to….his hands are quick in grabbing the smoke bomb and launching it at the ground in a moment of his opponent’s readying for an attack. He scoops her up with ease as he makes a break for some place far from that room, far from that man. It takes him to navigating the machinery in the ceilings until he finds an alcove to set her down and allow him a moment to think, to plan, to examine, to realize, to pray that she’s okay. She’s not though….looking at her now he can confirm that it was a bit of blood he felt seeping into his clothes, that her breathing is so weak he can’t even see her chest rise and fall in the slightest, and the feel of her pulse beneath his fingers grows slower and weaker with each passing moment. Gods damned, why couldn’t he have been a healer!

The link pearl in his ear goes off and it’s Y’shtola asking where they are, details of words fading from his focus as he asks one question, “Is [REDACTED] still there?” A minuscule amount of relief when she answers no and they saw him leave in what he knows to be the opposite direction of where he hides now. A place that he now finds was just feet from the room in which she fell, all the better for her to get healing magics sooner. Siberite’s blood trail leads the way back to Y’shtola, Alphinaud, and Estinien standing in the center of the room, eyes growing wide when Thancred walks in cradling her in his arms. “Do you think you can-?” He starts to ask before the quaking of the building interrupts them and makes for the plans to shift for a way out to become priority. Just a little longer, darling, just hold on a little longer, He repeats again and again as the group weaves their way through the facility, knowing full well she grows colder and paler.

The group stops, weapons drawn, staring down the eyes of the Warrior of Light’s killer as he just smiles. “Well, well, it seems like I’ve won,” his icy blue eyes meets every one of them, “The Warrior of Light is dead. This is cause for celebration.” Estinien moves first with a yell, tip of his weapon aimed for the chest, but with a flick of [REDACTED] wrist the dragoon is thrown against a wall, “Did you honestly think you could take me out like that?” Estinien lets out a low growl as he sits up, “Pathetic. All of you weak, which means none of you are worth my time.” And just like that he starts to walk away, “Don’t worry I’ll make sure word gets out about her perishing, you can trust me on that.”

Estinien rises once more to charge after when a hand from Alphinaud stops him in his tracks, “Let him go. We may yet still have a chance to save her,” he gives a pointed look to where Thancred holds her, Estinien slowly backing down, “but we cannot do anything for her here. We must go.” Another rumble and debris begins to fall, “Come on! We have to hurry!”

#anyway I’m gonna throw myself into this next expansion and come out soaking in my tears #I’ve got a big storm coming for me and I was crying and going on a roller coaster with the warm up last night so….rip to me #but these idiots! i love these idiots so much I promise you!#my wip tag

14 notes · View notes