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starlight-sev · 4 months

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Joy Looks Good on You (Snape x Artist!Reader)

Request: Snape with an artist reader- she makes gorgeous paintings, teaches an art class at Hogwarts (Bob Ross style, for reference). Doesn't have many students, but when he comes into her classroom its such a calming atmosphere. Maybe a short drabble about how he falls in love with her and her skill with paintings?

Requested by: anon

Warnings: none

A/N: this is more platonic than I had initially intended it to be, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Oh! Gender neutral reader as I always try my best to write 💕

Hogwarts was home to many secrets, one of them being that the school offered painting classes as an elective for those in third year or higher.

Even you were shocked when you first heard about the job posting. You always figured art would be just a hobby of yours. When it came to jobs in the wizarding world, anything to do with art and painting was quite rare to find.

So when you were finally offered the job for art teacher at Hogwarts, to say you were overjoyed would have been an understatement. You never thought you’d be able to turn your love of painting into your career.

Dumbledore had placed you in the North Tower, just below Professor Trelawney’s Divination classroom. Compared to her room, yours was rather small: you only had to walk ten steps and you’d already be at the other side of the room. A handful of round tables with matching wooden chairs had been crammed into the tiny space. There was a small desk nestled in the corner for you to work, along with a shelf against the wall to store your paints and supplies.

Your favourite feature about the room, and perhaps one of its only redeeming qualities, was the large window in the middle of the wall. It was rounded at the top, with an ornate stained glass inlay that covered almost half the window. It was the source of your inspiration on sunny days.

It certainly wasn’t the nicest classroom, and sometimes a theory crossed your mind that your classroom had once been a generously-sized storage closet, but anything was better than being down in the dungeons of the castle.

You glanced up from your own painting to quickly sweep your eyes over the paintings your students were finishing up. You never had more than ten students a year, painting certainly wasn’t a common interest for wizards (much to your disappointment), but it didn’t matter. It gave you the opportunity to grow closer to your students, to get to know everyone’s individual art style. It made you all the more proud when you were able to see how much they progressed over the course of the year.

“Professor?”

You glanced over to see Luna Lovegood, one of your students with the biggest imaginations, waving politely to catch your attention.

“Yes?” You asked softly.

“We won’t have time to finish our paintings this class. I know we’re not supposed to, but since it’s Friday, could we leave our supplies out? We’ll be back first thing on Monday.”

A few other students murmured their agreement. You smiled apologetically, silently cursing that you had given them an assignment far bigger than they had time to complete.

“Of course. That’s fine.” You dismissed everyone with a wave of your hand. “Go on. Enjoy the weekend. And don’t worry about handing in your still life sketches this week, you’ve got enough on your hands with the landscape painting I assigned.”

A handful of cheers erupted among the students, and you smiled as each one nodded and murmured their thanks before leaving.

You stood up from your desk, walking across the room to collect everyone’s paintbrushes one by one.

“Letting your students go without cleaning up after themselves?” A deep voice murmured softly from the doorway. “I’m surprised Y/N, I thought you were more disciplined than that.”

It never failed to startle you, how Severus had this uncanny ability to sneak up silently on you. Usually you’d be able to hear students’ footsteps echoing as they made their way up the stairs to your classroom, but Severus seemed to be able to glide noiselessly around the castle like a ghost.

You set your paintbrushes in the small sink that rested in the corner of your room, smiling in acknowledgement and beckoning the professor to come in.

“It’s Friday,” you answered, grabbing a paintbrush and using your fingers to work the paint out of the bristles. “They’ve got enough going on, I figured I’d give them a bit of a break.”

You heard Severus scoff as he approached you from behind.

“You’re too easy on them.”

“And you’re too hard on your own students, but you don’t see me waltzing into your classroom to nag.”

That earned a soft chuckle from the professor as he stood beside you.

“You can use magic to clean those.” Severus observed, nodding toward your fingers as you worked the leftover paint out of the brush.

“I know I can,” you shrug, watching the water beneath the brush turn a bright turquoise. “But I prefer not to. Helps me clear my mind a bit.”

“Hm.” Was the small response you got in reply. To your surprise, Severus reached into the sink and grabbed a paintbrush, mimicking your movements as he began cleaning it.

“Oh,” you exclaimed softly. “It’s okay, I can do that-”

“Too late,” Severus retorted, casting a quick glance at you out of the corner of his eye. “I’ve already started.”

The two of you scrubbed brushes in silence, and you just barely caught Severus let out a small, tired sigh. As you placed your final brush to the side to dry, you glanced at him.

“Rough day today?”

You had to hold in your giggles as he answered your question with the biggest eye roll you’d ever seen.

“That’s putting it lightly,” he muttered.

“Come,” you beckoned as you sat down in one of the empty seats in the middle of the class. You nodded for Severus to join you as you crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in your seat. “Tell me about it. What happened? Was it Potter again?

You smirked at the eye roll Severus gave you in response before tiredly making his way over to the seat across from you.

“Someone’s been stealing supplies for a Polyjuice potion,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I have reasons to believe it’s Potter and his dunderhead friends.”

You bit back a smile, and raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think it’s him? Do you have evidence?”

“Trouble follows him wherever he goes, isn’t that evidence enough?”

You had trouble holding in a giggle, and Severus glared at you.

“He’s brewed Polyjuice potion before.” Severus continued. “It’s the only thing he can actually do well. And those specific ingredients keep going missing.”

You frown a little and shook your head.

“Really, Severus. I don’t know what you have against that boy, but you’ve got to give him a break,” you encouraged gently. “He’s got enough on his shoulders right now, with the Triwizard Tournament going on.”

“And what if he is stealing from my supplies?” Severus retorted.

“What if he isn’t?” You challenged calmly. Severus sighed again, shaking his head as he gazed at you.

“Should we place bets on whether it’s Potter who’s stealing from you?” You asked jokingly, leaning forward in your seat with a smirk. Severus pressed his lips together in a thin line.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because every damned time we make a bet, you win.”

You snickered at Severus’ remark, before standing up from your seat and placing your hand reassuringly on the professor’s shoulder. He looked up at you with dark eyes that warmed very slightly at your touch.

“I truly do not know how you always manage to see the good in people.” He murmured, sighing tiredly. You squeezed his shoulder lightly.

“I just… see the good in everything I guess.” You shrugged. “Even things that seem terrible can be beautiful, if they’re in the right lighting.”

Severus let out a little snort at your comment, shaking his head.

“C’mon grumpypants,” you teased lightly, patting your friend on the back. “I know what’ll cheer you up.”

You walked over to your desk and opened the far left drawer. Upon hearing the dull scrape of wood as the drawer pulled open, Severus looked over at you with the tiniest smile.

“Have you added any teas to your collection?” He asked. He kept a somewhat level expression, but you couldn’t help but grin at the hint of a hopeful tone in his voice.

“I went to Hogsmeade last weekend and got a few more. Some just for you. Come over here and pick one, I’ll put the kettle on.”

Severus stood up just as you moved to the corner of the room to fill the kettle. You noticed out of the corner of your eye how shadow-like he was: the way his cloak billowed slightly as he almost seemed to glide over to your desk.

You heard a few papers rustle as you filled the kettle, and that’s when your heart stopped.

Oh no, oh god no.

You forgot to move your sketchbook, bloody hell.

Maybe Severus was looking at something else, you thought to yourself. Maybe you misheard and he was only rifling through your tea stash-

“Is this… me?”

Nope. He found it. Shit.

You set the kettle down slowly, your hands trembling as you felt a rush of heat fly up to your cheeks.

“S-Sorry?”

You kept your eyes glued to the teacups on the small wooden countertop, trying your best not to cringe as you continued to hear pages being flipped over gently.

“Y/N…” Severus murmured. “You drew these?”

You chewed your lip, just about ready to sink through the floorboards at this point.

“Y-yes.” Your voice came out as a small squeak, barely even intelligible.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you heard gentle footsteps approach you from behind.

“Turn around,” Severus encouraged softly. Clenching your jaw, you tried to ignore the burning heat in your cheeks as you shuffled around to face Severus.

His dark eyes were swirling with so many emotions, you genuinely couldn’t tell what he was thinking. It terrified you. You looked down, and saw that he was holding one of your sketches in his hand.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I don’t show those to anyone, they’re just for me to practice with…”

“This is how you see me?”

You heard Severus‘ voice catch in his throat, and you looked up to see his features had softened into a gentle and almost sad expression. You lowered your gaze to his hands again, taking a closer look at the sketch he brought over.

It was from the Yule Ball a few months ago. You had sketched Severus during dinner after you saw him throw his head back in a hearty laugh, thanks to a dirty joke Professor Sprout had casually dropped at the staff table that night. You couldn’t remember the joke for the life of you, but you’d never forget the way Severus’ eyes lit up with a rare joy few ever saw. Nor would you forget the way his hair curled that night, perfectly framing his face and making him look almost angelic.

“Joy looks good on you.” You explained in the tiniest whisper, pressing your lips together nervously. “I… that was one of my first times seeing you laugh, and I just…”

You trailed off, silently cursing the fact that your face was still as red as ever. Finally, to your relief, Severus set your sketch down. But when you looked up at him, you noticed his eyes were glassy.

Was he… crying?

“Oh.” You gasp softly. “Oh no, I’m sorry. It’s a terrible drawing, I know-”

Severus shook his head. “Stop bloody apologizing. It’s beautiful. All your sketches are. I had no idea.”

“Well, you weren’t supposed to find out.” You muttered, laughing your nerves out softly. Your heart nearly stopped as Severus reached out, gently cradling your hands in his.

“Thank you.” He murmured quietly. “For… what you said.”

You frowned. “What did I say?”

“About… seeing the joy in me,” he replied. “That’s perhaps the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

Your heart sank as you took in Severus’ words. You looked up, your soft eyes meeting his dark ones.

“It’s true.” You said simply. “It doesn’t take an expert to see you’ve been through some real shit, Sev. You deserve to be happy.”

Severus froze at your words, unsure of what to do or how to react. Then, to your surprise, he took one more step forward and closed the distance between the two of you. He wrapped his arms around you, and you nearly gasped at how tightly he held you to him. You returned his embrace without hesitation, finally calming after the initial scare of Severus finding your sketches. He was warm. You could get used to this feeling.

“Thank you, Y/N.” You heard Severus whisper.

“For what?” You asked back just as softly.

“Showing me how you see the world. How you see… me.”

#snape x reader #harry potter #severus snape #snape imagine #snape x y/n #severus snape imagine #severus snape x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines

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saulocept · 1 year

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come pour yourself all over me

pairing: sebastian sallow/reader/ominis gaunt [poly]

rating: g

summary: Maybe you’ll learn your lesson this time and remember not to forget your gloves. Or maybe you won’t. Sometimes the alternative is just better.

notes: someone actually asked to see the poly fic, so it’s here! i didn’t use the prompt they sent, but i’m grateful anyway. i might actually work on it the next if i have the time and inspiration, so this is for u lovely anon - you know who u r! lots of liberties taken in here, so apologies in advance.

also: no more love triangles! we each have two hands so we intend to use it!

You’ve made a mistake, a grave one, though it’s something you’ll only realize much later, when everything’s far too late to take back. Okay, so maybe you’re exaggerating a little, but there’s so much going on already it’s hard to think straight. You’re already running late as it is, and you’re not even sure you’ll make it long enough to live through the consequences. Still, now that you think about it, it’s better this way, to be honest.

You huff out a quiet sigh, leaning back against your seat, wondering if you’ll still make it in time if you run back to your mother’s house and grab everything you’d left behind. You know it wouldn’t work, not really; you’re already halfway through your destination, closer to the end goal than the starting line. It would be a greater waste of time to go back; you know this, of course, but it doesn’t stop you from wishing, anyway, thinking about all the possibilities, the different kinds of outcomes that could still happen.

You aren’t going to be the only one who’s late; it’s a natural occurrence, after all, something you can’t really stop or control, but even the thought of it doesn’t seem as comforting as you’d initially thought. You don’t want to be late, period, not when you’ve spent all this time being a model student and bringing honor to your house.

In retrospect, though, that feels like a very small thing to be hung up on, especially when you’ve got a much bigger thing to worry about. Like having freezing hands, for example. Or maybe dying from the cold.

Still, there’s not much you can do about it now. The train ride doesn’t stop for anyone, and even if it could, where else would you go? Your mother’s house is too far away now, and you’ve not been here in this place long enough that you’d know every nook and cranny, every possible shortcut there is to discover.

You breathe out another sigh, turning your head to glance at the windows outside. Whatever. It’s not like anyone’s ever died from frozen hands. Or maybe someone had and you just haven’t heard of it yet. Maybe you’ll even be the first to find out. Not that it matters anymore.

The train glides into a slow stop, and you see now that you’ve finally arrived. Breathing out a sigh (and accepting your inevitable demise), you shove your hands into the pockets of your coat, then slowly make your way to the glass doors, exiting the vehicle.

It’s not nearly as crowded today, which makes everything a little easier. Small victories, you think, breathing out a sigh of relief as your feet finally meet the snow-packed ground. Not quite a victory, though, because now the hardest part of your journey begins.

It’s a struggle; it’s too cold out, and even through the layers of your clothes, you can still feel the chill. Still, you press on, putting one foot forward, knowing that you don’t have much of a choice in this. You’re not that far from the school now, and though normally, you wouldn’t have minded the walk, thinking of it as an opportunity to acquaint yourselves with your surroundings, now it just feels like torture.

At this point, you’re just trying to survive. Your teeth chatter, and the freezing wind beats at your back, but you ignore it, focusing instead on your surroundings, making up stories about the shops and buildings you occasionally pass by to distract yourself.

You pause for a second, rub your palms together, pressing them against your cheeks in an attempt to keep warm. It barely works; you’re still cold all over, nearly ten seconds away from freezing to death, and somehow, the school seems even farther than ever. Has it always been like this or is it only because you’re almost dying?

Your hands are growing number, colder, and you flex your fingers a little, just to see if they still work. They do. Good. Time to move on. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying not to shiver. You’re almost there, you tell yourself, just to cheer yourself up, have something to look forward to. You’re not sure if it’s true, but you have to believe it is.

The sound of your name stops you in your tracks, and for a second, you wonder if you’re just making it up, hallucinating. Are you having flashbacks now, reliving a life that’s long lost? You reach up, pinch your cheek. It still feels warm enough, more than your hands at least, so that must mean you’re still alive.

Ready to dismiss everything as a product of your imagination, you press on once more, curling your arms around yourself and hissing. There it is again – the sound of your name, coming from somewhere behind you. Frowning, you quickly turn your head, spotting a familiar pair of faces a few feet away from you.

You raise a hand, wave at them, unable to stop yourself from smiling. Quickly, you jog over to where they are, stopping as soon as you’re in front of them. “Ominis, Sebastian,” you say, shoving your hands back in your pockets as you give each of them a nod. Somehow, the sight of them feels comforting, and you can’t help but beam at them. “You’re both late, too.”

Ominis nudges Sebastian’s foot with his shoe. “Someone,” he begins, glaring at his companion for emphasis, “actually forgot to wake on time.”

Sebastian shrugs, then turns to face you, smiling playfully as he gives you a quick onceover. “Clearly I wasn’t the only one.”

“You forgot to set an alarm, too?”

He looks confused for a second, like he doesn’t quite understand, then quickly shakes his head. “No,” he replies. There’s a thoughtful pause that follows, like he’s trying to decide what he should tell you. “We got too caught up in our experiments and lost track of the time.”

You raise a curious brow, inviting him to elaborate, but he only shrugs at you, smiling again. It’s a different kind this time: vague and tiny, not quite reaching his eyes. Almost distant. You’ve been a part of his “experiments” before – which is really just an elaborate term to say that they’ve been learning more of the dark arts spells – so there’s no reason for him to keep this as a secret from you.

Still, you don’t press him for details; you figure that he’ll just tell you all about it when he’s ready, and all you have to do is to just give him time.

“Okay,” you say, reaching out to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder. He relaxes beneath your touch, all the tension from his body disappearing all at once. “But you’ll tell me all about it later?”

“Of course.” The answer’s quick, given without hesitation. He looks up to meet your eyes, then gives you another smile. Warm, genuine – not likes the ones you’re used to. Even now, the sight of it is quick to turn you into a mush. Here, his voice has grown softer, fonder, like he’s telling you a secret – something that’s meant only for you. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind.”

Ominis nudges his foot once more, frowning. “I think you’re forgetting something.”

“Oh!” Sebastian clears his throat, then opens his mouth to try again. “Of course—” he pauses, casts a quick glance at his companion, then turns to look at you again: a twinkle in his eyes, a teasing smile on his lips: “We wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. Already, the day seems to be looking up for you. “Much better.”

There’s a moment of silence between the three of you, slightly awkward. There isn’t much to say after that, you know, nothing else except for the fact that all three of you are already even running later than ever, but before you could even get the words out, Sebastian’s cutting you off, staring at you with an obvious frown.

“You’re not wearing any gloves.” It’s a statement more than a question, and it’s making you nervous somehow, even if you can’t quite tell why. You cast a glance at Ominis, who now has his head turned to you, his eyebrows furrowed slightly in concern. You know he can’t see you, not really, but still; having both their attention already feels too much, too overwhelming.

“I forgot them,” you reply, shifting your weight from one foot to another as you try to affect a lighter tone. Now that you’re saying it out loud, it really doesn’t feel like a big deal. Okay, so you forgot your gloves at home and you don’t have the time to think about replacing them. Who cares? At this point, there’s a bigger thing to worry about, like not being extra late to your first class.

This time, it’s Ominis who speaks. “You didn’t think to come back for them?” he asks, still frowning. There’s no sharpness to his voice, only worry, genuine enough to make you feel guilty. “You could die from the cold, you know.”

“I didn’t want to be late,” you explain, like it would somehow justify your earlier stupidity. You know, it wouldn’t, not really, but it’s not like you can think up of a better excuse. The truth’s all you’ve got, and it sounds even more ridiculous than the lies you usually come up with. “I only realized it when I was halfway through the ride, so I just figured coming back wouldn’t be worth it.”

This time, it’s Sebastian’s turn to speak. “I suppose they wouldn’t have called you a model student for nothing,” he remarks, snorting in amusement. You give him a glare in response; Ominis elbows him in the side, chiding, though Sebastian only laughs, turns his focus back on you. “Alright. Let me see your hands.”

It’s an easy enough request to grant. You take your hands out of your pockets, then gingerly present it to him for inspection. Gently, he takes one hand into his, turns it this way and that, frowning as he looks up at you again. “You’re freezing. How long have you been walking in here again?”

“Er, a few minutes, I think?” you reply. He gives you a disbelieving look, and you bite your lower lip, hurrying to explain, “I figured I could just get warm as soon as I’m back at school, you know, so I was trying to hurry.”

He opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, then shakes his head and sighs, seemingly exasperated. “I can’t believe you.”

You frown at him. “It’s not like I—”

“Here,” Ominis steps forward in your direction, interrupting whatever argument’s brewing between you and his companion. “Let me see.”

He doesn’t wait for a response. Blindly, he reaches for your hands, takes both of them in his. He frowns, though he doesn’t say anything else. Gently, he rubs his hands against yours, then presses them against his cheek – the same thing you did before, you note, though he’s warmer. Softer.

“There,” he says after a moment. He’s still not letting go of your hands, though his grip is a little looser now – something you can slip away from if you so much as you want to. But he’s warm, and he’s soft, gently tracing circles all over your skin. A gesture of comfort, you think. Or maybe some other form of reassurance – a reminder of his presence, warm and stalwart. You’re not sure what it means, but it doesn’t mean you want him to stop. He looks up at you then, smiling a little, “A little better now, I hope.”

“Thank you,” you reply, and your voice is thick with emotion. You’re almost certain he could hear the smile in your voice, how you’re beaming at him so widely you look ridiculous.

“Of course.” He nods; if he’s ever noticed that, he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he squeezes your hand gently. You watch as his smile widens just a little, turns into something teasing. You’re still wondering what any of this means when he casts a glance at his companion, then turns to you as he adds an afterthought: “Aren’t you glad I’m here to save the day?”

Sebastian kicks him lightly in the ankle – more of a warning than a threat, and he rolls his eyes, laughing. “Alright,” he concedes, the smile still on his lips, prettier than ever, “We. Even though I’m doing most of the work.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes in response, though he marches over to you, reaching out to grab your other hand in his. His grip is much firmer, like he’s got no intention of letting you go soon. His touch is warm, though it’s a different kind; more like wildfire: harsh and burning, as opposed to Ominis’s campfire: gentle, cozy. Still, it’s not entirely unwelcome.

“You’re not doing most of the work,” he protests, imitating Ominis’s actions: tracing circles along your skin, vague patterns that seem more like magical symbols than anything. There’s a certain roughness to the way he does it, likely brought on by his frustration, and upon realizing what he’s doing, he pauses for a second, then goes slower, gentler. He looks up and meet your eyes, giving you a sheepish smile – a quiet apology, you’re sure of it. You nod, smile back at him in response, then squeeze his hand. All’s easily forgiven when you know he doesn’t mean to hurt you in the first place. He squeezes back, grateful, then turns his attention back on Ominis. “See?”

Ominis only laughs in response, shaking his head. “I hope you know that we’re even later now because of your antics, Sebastian.”

“You’re as much to blame in this as I am,” Sebastian grumbles, giving his companion a glare. Ominis, however, remains completely unfazed.

He shakes his head again, then turns to face you. “Come on,” he says, tugging at your wrist. He pulls you toward the direction of the school: one hand on his wand, the other still holding yours, tracing absent circles along the inside of your wrist. “Let’s go. Or we’re going to be really late.”

You nod, and the two of you follow after him, the both of them still holding your hands, with no intention of letting go. Huh. Somehow, you don’t seem to mind this at all. -

It’s quiet for the longest time, until Sebastian turns to you, saying your name. He looks thoughtful.

“Hey,” he says. You give him a curious look, waiting. His voice has gone oddly soft, conspiratorial, and you can’t help but feel a little suspicious. What is he up to this time? “I was just wondering—” here, he pauses, lets his words sink in – “Why didn’t you just use a spell to keep warm?”

You feel your cheeks heating up. On the other side of you, you hear a familiar snicker: quiet, subdued; it’s still obvious, anyway, and it only serves to make you even more embarrassed. You narrow your eyes, glare at him, ready to just melt into the ground and disappear. “Shut up.”

He only smirks at you in return.

#renwrites #sebastian sallow x reader #ominis gaunt x reader

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defectivevillain · 1 year

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rocky waters

pairing: four x reader

reader's pronouns: unspecified but masc-intended

warnings: allusions to suicidal ideation, dissociation, panic attack & hyperventilation, typical fear simulation fare

“Initiate.” Four says, inclining his head towards the empty chair in the middle of the rather small room. You move to sit down, your heart racing. You're grateful that you made it to the second stage of initiation... However, this stage came with absolutely no instruction. You have no idea what’s going to happen. You try to get some information from Four, but his expression is blank as always. He reaches out towards you and you almost push his hand away, before you realize that he’s wiping a spot on your neck with a disinfectant wipe. Four then turns and grabs a syringe. You bite your lip and pretend that your heart isn’t absolutely hammering in your chest.

“Be brave,” Four says with an unreadable expression. “It’s just a simulation.” Is that supposed to make you feel better? If so, it doesn’t quite work. You still feel rather nervous. Before you can contemplate that remark, the syringe sinks into your neck and your vision fades to black.

When you open your eyes, you find yourself standing in a dimly lit section of the Pit. You take a step forward and extend a hand, only to feel a cold wall. Upon closer inspection, it seems you’re caged within four panels of glass. Squinting in the dim lighting, you recognize the other initiates standing and watching you. Four hovers in the distance, arms crossed over his chest. You place a palm against the glass and try to get the attention of Will and Christina, but they’re whispering amongst themselves.

A sudden trickling noise breaks you from your thoughts. Dread coiling in your chest, you look down to find water seeping out of the ground. There’s no visible cause for this flooding, but the water level is rising regardless. Your shoes are wet and your pants are beginning to get soaked. Your heart is hammering in your ears as you begin to realize the inevitable: you're going to drown.

Despite this realization, you still try to escape. You investigate all four walls, looking for a gap in the glass. There’s absolutely nothing save for the drain on the floor, which can’t be much bigger than your hand—you’d never fit down it. You’re beginning to feel hopeless as the water rises to reach your lower torso. The water level is rising unreasonably fast and, before long, you have to try to tread water and stay afloat. You don’t have much time left, you reckon.

It’s okay; this is a simulation.

The thought relieves you. You have no idea where this sudden confidence and self-assuredness comes from, but you don’t question it. Your lungs are burning and every part of your body aches. Your gut reaction is to swim to the top of the tank, but that won’t do you any good. Instead of fighting a losing battle, you sink under the water, close your eyes, and succumb to the darkness surrounding you.

You’re suddenly slammed back into reality. You take a deep breath in, clutching at your chest. The bright fluorescent lighting sears into your vision. Four places a hand on your shoulder and the pressure helps to ground you to the present moment. It still takes a few seconds to catch your breath. When you’re finally feeling that you can breathe again, you chance a glance at Four. His eyebrows are furrowed and he’s regarding you with suspicion.

“What was that?” There’s no trace of emotion in his expression, save for suspicion and wariness. You stare at him in confusion and Four repeats himself, before taking a deep breath. “You know what I’m talking about—the simulation,” the instructor says, pinching the bridge of his nose before leveling you with a scrutinizing gaze. “How did you know?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you respond honestly. This only seems to irritate Four further. Meanwhile, you’re just trying to find a grip on reality. The shift from the simulation to the physical world is jarring. Your chest still feels tight—as if you genuinely drowned. You clutch at the arms of the chair you’re sitting in.

“That was far too fast,” Four continues, crossing his arms over his chest and leveling you with a rather intense gaze. “You must have known it was a simulation. That’s the only explanation. Otherwise, you must have a death wish.”

“A death wish,” you repeat wryly, finally feeling grounded in reality. You push yourself off the chair and take a step closer to him. You can’t resist the urge to glare at him. “I don’t have a death wish; there was nothing else for me to do. Figured I might as well have some agency in the ordeal.”

“Besides, isn’t that Dauntless?” You continue, despite the recognition that Four’s expression is only turning darker. “At least, that’s what Eric seems to think.” You stare him down and wait for him to respond.

“Eric doesn’t know anything,” Four mutters. His eyes widen for the briefest of moments and you realize that he likely hadn’t meant to say that aloud.

“You sure?” You blurt out, not sure where this sudden confidence in argument is coming from. You decide not to question it and instead continue. With any luck, continuing the conversation will get you some more information on just what the hell is going on here, what this second stage of initiation entails. “Isn’t he above you?”

“Enough,” Four hisses, evidently fed up with your questioning. The instructor clenches his fists and stares at you menacingly. You pretend not to be affected. “You’re done here.” Taking the hint, you open the door and close it behind you—but not before seeing Four stare at you through the crack in the doorway. Shaking your head, you make your way back to the waiting room and, subsequently, the barracks.

Unfortunately, you return to the simulation room—as you’ve aptly dubbed it—several more times. It seems this simulation is the main obstacle you’ll have to clear in this stage of initiation. Each time you slip into it, you’re faced with a different fear. You burn to death on a flaming pyre, swim away from sharks, run from birds with sharp claws... Each experience is terrifying in its own way but, thankfully, you don’t think any of them are your legitimate fears.

Your exemplary performance in the simulation doesn’t go unnoticed. After the first few rounds, you begin to get the feeling that someone is watching you. Your skin prickles during training. It takes you a few days to realize that Four is watching you. The moment you sense his gaze burning into your skin, you can’t unsee it. Suddenly, it feels as if you can’t get a moment alone anymore. The few solitary moments you had before are now filled with an uncomfortable feeling of eyes on your back.

“Ready?” Four asks you when you’re in the simulation room once more. He’s wielding the familiar syringe in one hand. The metal catches the light and gleams menacingly. You’re not sure if you’ll ever truly be ready, but you nod anyway. Four doesn’t waste any time—bringing the syringe to your neck and dispelling you from reality.

When you open your eyes, you find yourself standing amongst a crowd of people. There’s nothing in sight, save for the immeasurable amount of faces in the crowd. You try to stand up taller and get a look at something in the distance—anything—but you’re roughly pushed back down. It’s as if you’re standing in a void, with nothing except the millions of people around you. You have absolutely no space to yourself, as the crowd ebbs and flows around you. You’re jostled around and, even when you try to push back, no one budges. You’re absolutely trapped. There’s nothing around you, nothing in your hands that can help you to move or enforce your personal space. Your breaths begin to turn harsher and quicker.

As if sensing your incoming panic, every face in the crowd turns to face you. Dull eyes stare into you. There’s nothing but deafening silence as the strangers walk forward, tightening the space around you. You stumble and fall to the ground, throwing your hands over your ears and desperately wishing them all away. It doesn’t matter how much you scream for them to get away from you—no one budges. You’re being swallowed by the crowd around you. The space around you is constricting until you’re surrounded by strangers looming over you. You close your eyes and beg for it to stop.

Suddenly, you can see nothing but bright light. Your mind can’t quite keep up with the change. When you see someone reaching toward you, you instinctually push them away and back up. Your vision is blurring and swirling around you; when it finally clears, you realize that you're sitting in the simulation room. Four is standing a few feet from you, hands raised up in the air in a mock surrender gesture.

“The simulation is over,” Four states. He is gracious enough to turn his back and focus on the screen in front of him, which allows you ample time to regain your composure.

"That was one of your real fears,” Four remarks some time later, turning to look at you for an answer. You nod silently. Admittedly, your chest is still burning with how hard you were breathing before. For a long moment, there’s nothing but tense silence. Your expression must betray your inner feelings, because Four’s glare softens a little. “You still fell in the average,” Four says firmly. It almost feels like his own strange way of reassurance. He continues speaking, but his voice falls to the background. You don't intend to ignore him, but the trainer eventually stops talking and raises his eyebrows at you. You pretend not to notice.

“Am I free to go?” You ask instead, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. Four nods and you step away from the chair. As you exit the room, you realize that you can feel his gaze fixed on your back as you walk away. You clench your fists at your sides and return to the barracks, your heart still pounding out of your chest.

#divergent #divergent x reader #four x reader #four x gn reader #four x male reader #Tobias eaton #Tobias Eaton x male reader #Tobias Eaton x gn reader #divergent x male reader #x male reader #male reader #gn reader

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acourtofthought · 7 months

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Tamlin gave Feyre an engagement ring. Something I'm guessing he never gave to anyone else.

It didn't make them endgame.

Az let Elain borrow his dagger. Something he'd never done for anyone else.

It doesn't mean they'll be endgame.

Tamlin gave Feyre jewelry which she accepted but then gave to the water-wraith.

The giving of jewelry didn't make them endgame and Feyre easily parting with it was foreshadowing.

Azriel gave Elain a necklace which she accept but then easily returned (not to be confused with Nessian considering Nesta flat out refused her gift from the get go).

Why can't that also be possible foreshadowing for the end of E/riel? At this point she's got a stronger connection to Graysen than Az considering she refused to return his ring when he demanded it back. To me that demonstrates Elain is the kind of character to hold on to something when it still has meaning to her versus Nesta who refused gifts that had too much meaning.

Tamlin had such lust for Feyre, he told her the magic of Fire Night had him searching for her.

That didn't make them endgame

Az spent a year pleasuring himself to fantasies of Elain, but only in the dead of the night when his shadows were asleep.

If Tamlin being drawn to Feyre during a ceremony which brings magic to their lands for an entire year still didn't make them endgame then why would Elain being Az's dirty little secret have more staying power?

Feyre was frustrated at being expected to wear dresses in the Spring Court.

That was foreshadowing that she wasn't meant to stay there and was only truly comfortable wearing them once she ended up in the NC.

Elain was noted by both Cassian and Nesta as looking bad in black (a Night Court color) and Elain herself refused the Illyrian leathers.

Why can't that be foreshadowing that she's meant to leave the NC just as Feyre left Spring?

Feyre once said the night Tamlin kissed her was the happiest moment of her life. She also enjoyed painting in the Spring Court at one point and felt she found a friend in Ianthe.

We all know how that turned out.

Elain seems somewhat adjusted in the NC with hobbies and "friends".

Is it not possible that just as we later discovered Spring was not where Feyre was going to thrive despite the initial evidence to the contrary, we'll find out the same for Elain but in reverse?

Tamlin only wanted to protect Feyre too, keeping her safe from harm, despite the fact that she told him she wanted to be more involved.

That didn't end up together.

Az doesn't think Elain should be exposed to the darkness of the Trove which is essentially him wanting to keep her safe despite the fact that she expressed the desire to do more.

Why would they end up together when Tamlin and Feyre didn't?

Feyre was initially very afraid of Rhys, to the point she said she'd never want to paint him. He twisted her bone, forced her to dress and dance proactively and manipulated her into a bargain.

Yet in ACOMAF she fell in love with him before hearing his reasoning for his actions in ACOTAR, later listened to his reasonings and the acceptance of the mating bond reigned supreme.

Elain already knows what happened in Hybern was a mistake and not what Lucien intended, she sees that Feyre continues inviting him around for holidays (therefore seems to grasp that no one is holding a grudge over what happened with the king) and her only real struggle in regards to romance at this point is knowing that she lost her fiance because of the mating bond and being turned. Knowing that fate thinks it knows best for her (which tbh, it kind of does 😂).

If SJM worked her magic and had us believing in Feysand, if Feyre could fall in love with Rhys without initially knowing why he scared Tamlin into sending her back to the human lands, got her drunk, forced her to dance in front of everyone, and trapped her into an agreement with him, then why is anyone acting like Elain and Lucien have bigger obstacles to overcome?

I love Feysand and I have no grudge over what happened in their past but let's be honest, what he did to Feyre was 10x worse than anything Lucien has ever done to Elain. The things Feyre had to overcome to end up with Rhys were a much bigger deal than Elain finding out she had a mating bond with Lucien, something Lucien did not do to her but was done by the Mother / Fate itself (and really, the same thing fate did to Feyre and Nesta).

Elain has her own traumas to work through and I'm not saying they're less traumatic than Feyre or Nesta's, they've been / will be equally as difficult for her to work through.

But anyone claiming there's too much water under the bridge when it comes to her and Lucien needs to go back and read how SJMs other endgame relationships started.

Lucien has been practically perfect in comparison to the way Rhys and Cassian acted with Feyre and Nesta at times.

Elain's biggest problem is not going to be forgiving Lucien but letting go of her prideful stubbornness. All she needs to do is stop being put out over the fact that maybe fate did know a bit better than her (because really, she's holding a grudge that she couldn't even get her mother's one expectation of her right by choosing Graysen) and her every single desire will come true. SJM has made it obvious that Lucien is absolutely perfect for her and they could share in a life beyond her wildest dreams.

Right now Elain is her own worst enemy and that's so very Pride and Prejudice of SJM.

#elucien #pro elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #anti e/riel #pro lucien vanserra #elain x lucien #lucien and elain #elain and lucien #elucien bond #antie/riel #antielriel

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love-and-monsters · 8 months

Text

The Ship and the Alien Pt. 4

M alien X GN reader, 6,315 words

The grand finale! In all seriousness, I got writers block on several parts of this and the ending turned out more bittersweet than I initially intended, so. I hope people are okay with this? I really wanted to get this out before October, too. Big Ls all around, I suppose. Speaking of, if you have any ideas for a Halloween-monster story, I'm eager to hear! I'd like more feedback about what people want to see.

Part one Part two Part three

Content warning: Depression, mentions of medical procedures, existential dread

You lay, curled in your bed, for the rest of the night. But no matter how long you lay there, eyes closed, you didn’t sleep. Grove-peace did, eventually, making little snorting noises on occasion. You didn’t move, even when it felt like your bladder would burst halfway through the night. He was clearly exhausted, and he wasn’t even sleeping in a proper bed. Because he wanted to stay with you.

That guilt comfortably settled in with all the other negative emotions you’d been feeling, weighing down your body like a thick, heavy coat.

There’s no natural light in your room, since it’s in the interior, but the lights set into the corners of your room seem to lighten and darken like the sun- they were stronger when you first got into the room, dimmed as it got later, then started to brighten again after quite a length of He time. Grove-peace stirred, ears twitching rapidly before his eyes opened and he stretched.

“Great sunsa,” he groaned, staggering to his feet. “I have got to stop falling asleep lying down. My legs are stiff.”

“Sorry,” you muttered.

“Don’t apologize,” he insisted. “Please, I’ll be fine, just stiff.” He stretched all of his legs, even bending his back legs out in a way more reminiscent of a cat than a horse. “How are you doing?”

You shrugged. His face fell for a second before he hurriedly picked it back up. “Okay. Maybe you should have something to eat, then?”

“I just woke up,” you said. A lie, considering that you’d never fallen asleep, but maybe one that he’d buy. “I don’t really like eating right after waking up.”

He stared at you for a moment, ears twitching. “Okay,” he said, hesitant. “At least get up for a moment, then. Would you like to change your clothes? Shower? Go for a walk? I’ve always liked going for walks in the morning, so stretch my legs.”

You glared at him. How could a person be so prepared to do things right after waking up? It had been like, three minutes. “I’m good.”

It was weird, because a look of near distress flickered across his face for a moment before it was smothered by his ‘eager puppy’ look. “You’ve been lying down for a while. You must be at least a little stiff. I’m sure it would feel good to get up, even if only for a moment.” He shifted his legs, one after the other. “And I’d imagine you have to relieve yourself, too, at least.”

Okay, he wasn’t wrong about that last one. You felt like you were going to explode, and as much as you didn’t feel like getting out of bed, you didn’t want to wet the bed, either. You shifted your limbs and crawled out of bed with an agility that could only be matched by a very drunk sloth.

Grove-peace looked pleased by it, though. He gestured toward the bathroom, practically following you there, thought not in. He respected your privacy at least that much.

Pissing in a centaur toilet was a little awkward- it was clearly designed for someone bigger than you with, uh, bits that were situated in a different position. It took a little maneuvering, but it wasn’t impossible. Whatever. If they were so happy to have a near-extinct species hanging out with them, they could clean up after you.

You fumbled back out of the bathroom, having washed your hand with actual water (thank god for small mercies. Then curse him for the big problems) and headed back toward your bed. Unfortunately, your path was blocked by Grove-peace.

“Do you need something?” you ground out. He stared everywhere except at you, eyes a little too wide, ears twitching, tail twisting back and forth behind him.

“Um.” His ears perked up. “Yes. We have some… ah… you need to go on a tour!”

“You already showed me around a little yesterday,” you said. You moved to step around him and he blocked your path, practically scrambling to stay in front of you. “What are you doing?”

“I just said.” His voice was a little too cheery- the edge of strain was showing through it. “I need to take you on a tour. You haven’t even seen any of the outdoor areas!”

You huffed. “I’m tired. And it’s early.”

“That’s the best time for a tour, though. There won’t be so many people around,” Grove-peace insisted. “Please? I’ll let you go to bed after this.”

You hesitated, grumbled, and considered. But he didn’t seem particularly eager to let it go. Eventually, you sighed. “Fine, fine. As long as it’s quick.”

He beamed at that and gestured with his tail for you to follow him. You did so, slogging along after his steps. It took so much motivation to keep up with him, even when he slowed down.

He led you through the building slowly, though that didn’t just seem to be for the purposes of letting you keep up- he also glanced over his shoulder at regular intervals and paused to peek around corners. Wherever he was taking you, it clearly wasn’t somewhere you were supposed to be.

Well, whatever. He could get himself in trouble, if he wanted to. All you had to do was play the part of an innocent little lamb, being dragged along to whatever he wanted to show you. You were just a poor, little, baby human! How could you be expected to know anything, when you had to depend on all the big, strong aliens around to protect you!

It wasn’t until he was stopping in front of a door to the outside that you realized that if you got caught and he got in trouble, he might get reassigned or something. And that would be kind of a problem, when he was the only centaur you’d met so far who treated you like an actual person more than a fun curiosity.

“Are we supposed to be doing this?” you asked.

“Not technically,” he said, casting another glance up and down the hallway. “But we’re not going to get caught. And you were pining for a bit of nature on the ship, weren’t you? So I think you’ll like…” He slid the door open with a flourish. “This!”

It was a park. Outdoors, but fenced off to make a neat little area. It didn’t quite look well-kept. Plants grew out in all directions, but they seemed to be generally kept off of some paths, and since the paths were designed for centaurs, they were certainly wide enough for you to walk on. There were riots of colors- even a few reddish-green plants popped up here and there, and there was a weird, squat tree-thing that was laden with plump, bulbous yellow flowers. A strong breeze picked up and one of them wobbled just a bit too much, then tilted and tumbled straight off the tree. It exploded into a burst of pollen as soon as it hit the ground.

“Don’t breathe that in,” Grove-peace warned. You slapped a hand over your mouth and nose.

“It’s not dangerous, is it?” Your curiosity really did want to go over there and take a look, but you weren’t stupid enough to disregard the warning. Grove-peace twitched his ears a couple of times, then stepped forward and carefully kicked the flower off the path.

“No, probably not. But we don’t want you having an allergic reaction to something here, either. Probably not good for you to breathe anything in.” He wrinkled his nose a little and shook himself off. “Ugh, those things even give me the sniffles when they explode too close.”

“I’m not allergic to you,” you said, giving his fur a cautious glance. It’s short and close to his skin, like a cow’s or horse’s, so maybe it’s not as aggravating as something like a cat’s would be.

“No, and that’s good. No idea what we would have done if you were.” He sighed. “They’ll probably give you an allergy examination later, as part of the non-emergency medical panels.”

Oh cool, more medical stuff. You wrinkled your nose, but didn’t say anything else. “But that’s not what I took you out here for,” he said, trotting forward with a little more enthusiasm. After following the path a little further, he knelt down next to a particularly large, almost overgrown bush. You knelt next to him, a little confused. His tail twitched excitedly behind him as he bent forward and started to click somewhere deep in his chest. He alternated between clicks and trills for a moment, and then the bush rustled.

A tiny little nose poked forward, followed by the body of a squat little animal. It wriggled on six stubby little legs, the frontmost ones tipped with blunt, spade-like claws. Its eyes were small, almost just little black spots on his face that blinked rapidly in the light of the garden. They reminded you a little of moles. Your centaur lowered his hand and the twitching nose went right into his palm, snuffling around with intense fervor. A couple other little critters poke their noses out of the bush as well, one of them skittering closer to you.

“You can touch them,” Grove-peace said. “They don’t bite- they can’t. No teeth.”

You extended your hand toward one of them and it shoved its little nose in your palm with a tickly sensation. You could feel its little breaths huffing against your skin. “What are these little guys?”

“They’re-” A series of clicks that you can’t physically replicate. Maybe you’ll just call them long moles. “They’re hardy little things, and very good for gardens, hence why they’re here. They always come with us when we terraform other planets, even if other animals don’t.”

You hesitate, letting the long mole wriggle around your palm for a moment before asking, “Where is your planet? Your… home?”

Grove-peace laughed. “Our ancestral home is quite a ways away. I’ve never been there. I’m what people call a ‘ship-hopper.’ I was born in space, I move between ships as work demands, and I only go planetside on occasion.”

“What about your family?” you asked. “Do you ever get to see them?”

“On occasion. It’s easier for people whose families are all on one planet to manage that sort of thing. Most of the time, I prefer to just give them a sensor call- it’s easier to manage that scheduling than it is to figure out who’s going whose ship and what scheduled transfers there are and who has to take what time off work in order to get there.”

“Space travel sounds complicated,” you said.

“It can be. It’s also quite interesting, though. I’ve met quite a few interesting people,” he said. “Present company included.”

He nudged your side, warm and gently, and there was a weird fluttering feeling that swooped through your chest.

There was silence for a little while. The long moles scrambled around, eventually crawling up your arms. They were surprisingly gentle, even when they were grasping at your clothes with long claws. Two of them managed to crawl all the way up to your armpits and nosed around like they were trying to attach themselves there.

“They like warmth,” Grove-peace said. “That’s why they’re so affectionate- that and they’re semi-domesticated at this point.”

Eventually, you had to put them back. They kept trying to crawl back to you in a piteously cute manner, but Grove-peace insisted on shooing you away. “They’ll go back home once we leave- they’re just all still looking for warmth.”

The pair of you snuck back to your room. “Do you feel better?” Grove-peace asked as you sat down in bed. You shrugged.

“They were really cute.”

Grove-peace nodded, shifting his legs again. His ears twitched anxiously. “You seem to have perked up a little. We could get something to eat now, maybe? Or something else, if you’d like to do that?”

“I just want to lie down,” you said. The long moles had been cute, but now that you were back in your room, it was sort of wearing off. Grove-peace scuffed a fore-foot against the floor, tail flicking back and forth.

“Maybe you can lie down after you eat something? Just a little. Or have something to drink? You’re…” Grove-peace trailed off, his expression stricken. You glanced sideways at him.

“Why are you here?” Your tone was neutral, less accusing and more curious. Grove-peace’s ears twitched and he tilted his head to one side like he hadn’t quite understood the question. “Like, you said so yourself. You’re a ship-hopper. Isn’t it weird for you to be on a planet like this?” “Well, yes,” he said, still uncertain, like he wasn’t sure where the conversation was going and he was trying to brace for a trick question. “But you’re here. So I’m here.”

“Don’t give me that crap.” Your voice was practically a snarl. Hurt flickered across his expression. The flare of guilt in your chest was immediate, but you pressed on. “I couldn’t pick up a lot of what was happening when I woke up, but I could put together the basics. You weren’t supposed to leave the ship, were you? You volunteered. So why are you here? Why did you want to come with me? Because I’m some last member of a species? Because I’m interesting? Be-”

“No!” Grove-peace protested. “Not- I do think you’re interesting, to be clear. But that’s not why I came with you. Well. Not the only reason.” He moved closer, settling next to your bed again. “When we found your ship, it was a momentous discovery. We thought it was completely gone, so we would only be studying corpses and using the ship to find others of your species, should there be any left. But we found you.” His vice got breathy, awestruck. “It was amazing for scientific reasons, of course, and as a xenobiologist, I was thoroughly fascinated by you when we were taking you out of hibernation. But then when we took you out…”

He trailed off, thumping his back feet against the ground. “You were small and alone and helpless. And the instant I saw you, you weren’t some kind of specimen anymore. You were a person, and you were alone. How could I have left you after that?”

He fell sort of miserably silent after that. You stared at him. “You’re still here because you feel responsible for me?”

“To a certain extent. But I’m also here because I think you’re a fascinating person, and I think you deserve to have one person here who’s completely on your side.”

You stared at him for a long moment. There was a weird trembling feeling in your gut and your eyes stung a little. “Thank you,” you whispered after several moments of silence. It felt like a poor response to his big speech, but you really couldn’t think of any way to express what you were feeling. He laughed quietly.

“Don’t thank me. I don’t need it.” He unfolded his legs, stretching as he stood up. “I’m going to go get you some food, okay? I’ll be right back.”

You watched him walk out of the room. There was still that weighted sadness over your entire body, but something in your chest felt warmer. Gentler. Everything was just the tiniest bit brighter.

When Grove-peace came back, you even ate some of the food he offered. And the look of relief on his face made that weighted sadness even less pronounced.

The days blurred together after that. Apparently days on this planet were slightly longer than days on Earth, which screwed with your sleep schedule for a while. Thankfully, it wasn’t so different from Earth that you couldn’t adjust to it. The medical tests continued, from being poked and prodded with needles to just lying down in a big pool for hours. You fell asleep during that one, to the amusement of Grove-peace. He lingered around for most of your tests and acted as something of an interpreter or go-between for the scientists. Not that they wanted him there. They all wanted to talk with you directly. Fortunately, they also caved pretty quick when you just refused to talk without Grove-peace.

In the midst of all that, they started preparing your home.

They’d gotten to the whole thing rather quickly, all things considered. Apparently, they were using human housing blueprints they’d downloaded off your section of the ship to create the building, with some modifications to make it accessible for centaurs. It was set not too far from the facility you were already living in, which you’d discovered when Grove-peace had taken you out to the site. The area had been swarming with centaurs and mechanical building equipment, and you’d been reluctant to go closer. Most people you interacted with had stopped trying to touch you without permission, but you still didn’t appreciate the blatant staring.

“It’ll be built on a shift-frame, so they’ll be able to move it easily, though that also means you won’t have a basement,” Grove-peace said as he examined the building plan in front of him. You had a copy that was translated into English, but you still struggled to understand it. You weren’t an architect. “They’re planning a garden area, though- indoors, but you might be able to grow some Earth plants, with approval. That’ll be nice, right?”

You hummed noncommittally. Yesterday, they’d pinged you an update on the Human Ship Rescue Mission. It was pretty much the same as the last one- nothing. There were some notes about them commandeering a ship to actually go out there and search, but nothing concrete. Super fun. You sure were glad they were taking their time to be thorough about it.

(Okay, yes, objectively it was better that they weren’t rushing into a rescue mission half-cocked and all that because if they made it to the human ship and like, exploded or something, that would make everything worse, but also. It was massively frustrating sitting around and doing a shit-ton of nothing).

“Are you still there?” Grove-peace asked with a gentle nudge to your side.

“Where else would I be?” you mumbled. “I’m just here. Looking into getting a lovely new cottage while the remains of my species drift happily through the black death-void of space. Real good time I’m having.”

Grove-peace fell silent and a worm of guilt worked its way through your chest. Okay, that wasn’t quite fair. It wasn’t like any of this was his fault. He was just trying to make you feel better. Even if all you wanted to do was lie face down in the dirt and let the planet eat you. “Sorry.”

“You’re allowed to be upset,” Grove-peace said immediately, which was his fun new phrase. Every time you got pissy, he was all ‘well, you’re allowed to be upset.’

“Yeah, maybe. Doesn’t mean I should be taking it out on you.” You slouched down into the dirt. Maybe you should have cared more about the clothes you were wearing, considering they were now technically relics of a near-extinct species. But you were also a relic of a near-extinct species and you didn't care about yourself, so.

“Are you tired?” Grove-peace asked, sitting next to you. “I can carry you.”

“I’m not tired. I just don’t feel like walking anymore.” You gazed toward the clearing your home was going into, the little patch of fenced-off framework that had already gone up. “I’m not physically tired. Just heavy, you know.”

Grove-peace nodded. “I wish there was something I could do to help.”

You leaned your torso against his and let out a shuddering sigh. The contact helped. Really helped, actually. Just his physical presence, the reassuring warmth and weight and alive-ness of another person there settled the frantic, painful ache inside you. “You are helping.”

“Something more I could do to help,” he insisted. “Something to take the pain away.”

He sounds mournful, as if your pain is causing him pain, too. Guilt flashes through you, worse this time. “There’s not a way you can do that,” you said. “And I don’t know if I would want you to if you could. I feel like maybe… maybe I’m supposed to feel like this. Like I’m obligated to mourn.”

“That doesn’t seem like it’s fair to you. You’re just supposed to be sad for the rest of your life? Even if you could fix it?”

“If my species is going extinct, I don’t really want to be happy about it. I don’t even feel good being neutral about it. It feels right to be miserable about it.” Grove-peace fell silent for a long moment. You stared up at the sky. Was the sky a slightly darker blue here? Maybe. It was hard to tell. You didn’t’ have pictures to compare it to.

“I still hope you’ll be able to be happy,” he finally said. “Maybe it’ll take a while. And maybe it won’t be the same as it was before. But I still hope you’ll be able to be happy.”

“I spent most of my life with a sword hanging over my head,” you said. “We all knew humanity was going extinct back on Earth. Since I was like, ten, people knew that only a small percentage of us would be saved. And there was nothing we could do. When I was picked, I was still sad, but it sort of… abated, I guess. For a little while. Like I actually had hope that maybe I was going to be a part of something bigger. That my life mattered. And then when I woke up again, everything was gone.” You closed your eyes for a moment. “Maybe this is just the way I’m supposed to be. Mourning everything all the time. Even if things get better, I think there’s still going to be a part of me that’s mourning. I don’t think it’ll ever stop.”

Grove-peace curled his tail around me. “You still matter now.”

“It’s not the same. I matter to you guys, because I’m the last of my species. But I don’t matter to other people. I’m not… a part of something in the same way. I mattered to those people as a part of their community, as someone who was building the future with them. Now I’m… like a museum piece. I matter, but I’m separate. I matter like a fun curiosity, not like a person.”

Grove-peace’s tail curled even closer to you, resting across your lap. “You matter like a person to me.” The little translation bot was pretty close to your head, but even then, it barely projected loud enough for you to hear it. His thumping was, similarly, barely present enough for you to feel it.

Maybe it was a simple, cheesy statement. But it made your eyes water regardless.

There was a long pause. Grove-peace seemed to be deep in thought about something, his hands absently playing with the strands of hair that had finally started sprouting from your head again. They were still short, but they’d earned you some fascination from quite a few centaurs, since their hair was short all over their bodies.

“Do you want to leave?” Grove-peace’s voice was still quiet, almost nonexistent again.

“Leave?” you repeated. “What do you mean, leave?”

“Go somewhere else. I have a basic flight license. That’s enough to get us in the air and out of direct orbit. And then we can bug it off the star routes and head anywhere we want.”

You snorted, lips twitching. “Where, exactly, would we be going? And how do you plan to get me on the ship anyway? I’m precious, you know. Like an artifact. They’re not going to let you just take me.”

“I could smuggle you. You’re not that big. I’m sure I could get you into a piece of luggage.” He smirked a little. “I could pass you off as a big alien pet.”

You elbowed his side. “Yeah, sure. Let’s say you do manage to get me off planet without anyone noticing, which I don’t think you could do. Where do we go after that?”

“Anywhere we want!” he said, then seemed to reconsider. “Well, not anywhere. We would have to avoid major population areas, since they would notice you’re gone eventually and send out an alarm. But we can just move off into the unregulated areas of space, and no one will bother us there.”

“Uh huh. There won’t be any way for them to track down the ship that took off with their most precious endling,” you said with as much sarcasm as you could muster.

“I’m sure I could disable the internal tracker systems,” he said, not sounding sure at all. “And space is big- if we get enough of a head start, we could get away with enough headway for them to miss us.”

“And then what? Where do we go from there?” you asked. He fell silent for a few minutes.

“Anywhere we want, as long as it’s not in heavily populated space.”

“Uh huh. We’re going to land on whatever planet we want and start our own little colony,” you said. Your voice was still sarcastic, but you couldn’t help the undercurrent of longing in it. Grove-peace must have picked up on it, because he shifted to better hold you with his tail and arms.

“Yes. We’ll steal the seeds and food we need and I can get all the information we need. We’ll set up our own little home on some tiny, backwater world, and we’ll live without anyone interfering,” Grove-peace finished triumphantly and a little wistfully.

The pair of you fell silent for a bit. You sighed. “We can’t do that, though. We don’t know how to survive out there. We probably wouldn’t make it to the nearest planet, much less some place in the middle of nowhere in space.”

“We would probably be captured before we even left the planet’s claimed space,” Grove-peace agreed. “Even if I did manage to take the tracker off the ship, they would probably be able to track it by engine pulse alone- it’d be tough, but they’d do it.”

You ran your palm over your head. “I’m honestly surprised they haven’t put a tracker in me yet. Like you do for a pet you might lose.”

“They wouldn’t have to,” Grove-peace said. “You’re noticeable enough that they could rely on word of mouth alone, unless you got caught by smugglers or something. Actually, that’s probably one of the reasons they’re so worried about you going off-planet. They’re not wrong when they say space travel is dangerous on its own, but there are way more thriving smuggler rings in space than planetside, especially if you’re going beyond the major station locations.” “What do the smuggler rings even want with me? Are they going to chop me up and sell my meat to the highest bidder?” you complained.

“Maybe, but I think they’d probably think that’s a waste. More likely, they’d sell you to the highest bidder, and they’d do whatever they want. A lot of people like alien pets, and you would probably be quite a status symbol, seeing as you can talk.” Grove-peace pauses. “And there are probably other people who would like an alien pet for… other reasons.”

“Other reasons?” you repeated. “What, like to bang them?”

It was clearly the answer, because Grove-peace jolted like you’d stuck him with a pin. His eyes, wide as saucers, land on you. Maybe he thought he was speaking too low for the translator to catch, or maybe he thought you wouldn’t pick up on the implications. But the way he was staring at you made you think that he wasn’t just surprised. He looked embarrassed that you’d heard him.

“Wait,” you said, not quite holding back your laughter. “You- you want to bang an alien!”

“That’s not-!” He jolted to his feet so suddenly that you were sent toppling to the ground. It didn’t hurt, and you popped up a moment later. “I didn’t- I was just saying some people might want to, I’ve heard there are communities that find that kind of thing appealing, so-”

“You wouldn’t get so flustered if it was just something somebody else did,” you pointed out. “Let me guess: you know about those communities because you’re in them?”

He stared at you for a moment longer, then seemed to crumple in on himself. “I am so sorry. I- it’s not something- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I swear, I don’t expect anything, I was just- just-” He covered his face with his hands, his forelegs buckling like he was about to drop into a bow. “I know this is probably awkward for you, but I swear, that’s not why I’m here.”

“Ohhh my god.” You covered your mouth with a hand, but it couldn’t quite disguise your laughter. “You’re kidding. You actually want to, uh. You know. Get with me?”

“No! That’s not- I swear, it was never my intention! I- It was something that got me interested in being a xenobiologist, but I would never, ever try to- I’m so sorry.” He looked perfectly miserable, so much so that you took a little pity on him.

“What are you apologizing for? You haven’t done anything wrong,” you said.

“But I don’t want you to think that I was only doing that so you would like me,” he said, miserable. “I was being honest before, when I said I didn’t come with you for any ulterior motives. I mean, I am fascinated by aliens in general, and the first sophont alien is a big discovery, but also…” He trails off. “I don’t know how to explain it. Maybe my, er, fascination with aliens did help, in that it helped me see you more like a person than I think some of the others do. But I swear, I was never trying to get you in my debt or to… seduce you.”

“I’ll be honest,” you said. “You don’t come across as someone who really ‘seduces’ others.”

That was toeing dangerously close to an insult, but he took it in good humor. “Ah, well, no. I don’t have much experience in that department.” He took a tentative step back toward you. “I wouldn’t blame you if you were upset, you know. It must seem like I’ve been your helper under false pretenses.”

“Not really. I don’t think you’re that good at being subtle or manipulative,” you said.

“I could be,” he offered. “You wouldn’t know it if I really was.”

“I suppose not. But I’m gonna trust you. You’ve been pretty good to me all this time, and I’ve never felt uncomfortable or unsafe around you. I definitely trust you more than any other centaurs I’ve met.” Grove-peace came back to your side and you rested a hand comfortably on his side, where his torso met the more horse-like portion of his body. “You’re a good person, you know?”

“I’m grateful you think that way,” Grove-peace said. “I’ll try to make sure I can live up to that.”

You huffed out a gentle sigh. “We should probably be getting back, shouldn’t we?”

“Probably,” Grove-peace agreed, though he didn’t move at all. “Are you, uh. Feeling any better than before?”

You hesitated for a moment, then let out a deep sigh. “Like I said, I’m not sure I’m ever going to feel completely better. But… I think I’m okay right now.” You leaned against him. “Thanks, though.”

“Of course. Always,” he said. “Here, want to get on and ride for the rest of the way?”

“You’re cool with it?” you asked.

“I offered,” he laughed. He knelt and you carefully got on his back before he took off back in the direction of the main building. You leaned against his back, tired, but comfortable in his company.

Months passed. They finished your house. You moved in. It was… nice. It was a big house. They let you grow some Earth plants, provided you grew them in a specific, climate-controlled area and you basically followed hazmat procedures when entering and exiting the area. They even got you a computer that let you access the archives of the computers on the ship, so you could scroll through the instructions and cultural information they had on there. You’d learned more about humans in the time you’d been on an alien planet than in all the time you’d live on Earth. In fairness to you, the ‘everyone is going to die soon’ attitude on Earth hadn’t been conducive to a good learning atmosphere, and there wasn’t a ton else to do now.

Grove-peace had been introducing you to centaur culture too, little by little. You didn’t actually visit the nearby settlement all that often, but when you did, he was there as your guide, pointing out little aspects of their world to you. There were a lot of similarities between them and humans. Centaurs held festivals, celebrated art, had restaurants ranging from fine dining to fast food, and had streets lined with shops to buy things you needed and things you really didn’t But there were some weird aspects, too- their music was weird and discordant, and they could apparently see a slightly different color spectrum from you, so some of their art looked weird, and you couldn’t eat most of their food because at least three of the most common stapes of centaur food were either undigestible to you or gave you allergic reactions.

That said, there wasn’t much of a reason to go into town much. But you did. Because Grove-peace liked walking with you and you liked walking with him.

Most of your time was spent with him, really. To the extent that, one day, you leaned over the arm of your couch to where he was seated on the floor next to you and asked, “Do you wan to move in with me?”

He blinked at you. “What?”

“I mean, you’re always here already. Why not?” You finished off the little bracelet you’d been weaving around your fingers and held it out to him. “Here.”

He allowed you to slide it onto his wrist. It was a friendship bracelet you’d learned to make when you were little, but bringing in some centaur styles of design. Grove-peace twisted it around his wrist, a happy expression on his face.

“I’m going to have to ask, but…” He glanced at your face and trailed off. Something softer and gentler crossed his face. “But I don’t think I care that much what they say. I’ll be here anyway.”

You grinned and passed your hand over his head. He leaned into your touch, expression peaceful. “Hey. Grove-peace?”

He didn’t say anything. You nudged him. “Grove-peace? Are you paying attention to me?”

“Hm?” He blinked at you. “Oh, you were talking to me?”

“Yeah. Of course. Did you forget your own name?”

He rumbled his laughter. “Ah. Well, that’s not technically my name.”

“What?” You sat up sharply. “What do you mean? Have I been calling you a nickname?”

“Of sorts, I suppose. My name means grove-peace. Or, I think a more accurate translation would be ‘peaceful grove’ but it’s the same thing, really. The translators automatically try to translate all words, so if a name has a meaning, it’ll try to translate the meaning.”

“Then what’s your real name?” you asked.

“If I say it, the translator will just translate it,” he pointed out. “But… Here.” He took one of your hands in his and brought it down to his chest.

The rumbling and clicking started up again, vibrating up through your fingers as he said his name. The translator near your ear said “Grove-peace,” but you were more focused on the feeling beneath your fingers.

“You can keep calling me Grove-peace, of course,” he said. Hour hand was still on his chest, his fingers tracing patterns along the back of it.

“If the translators work that way, does my name get translated too?” you asked.

“Sort of. The translations come from all the onboard computers on your ship and there weren’t many name translations, but none of us can really say your name very well, so you do have a sort of nickname.” He shifted, a little embarrassed. “I’m the one who gave it to you, right after you woke up.”

“And the nickname is?” you pressed when he didn’t say anything else. He looked rather embarrassed, but tightened his fingers on yours as he kept your hand on his chest.

The rumbling started up again, and the translator near your head chirped out “Star survivor.”

“It comes from an old story,” he continued. “There were many more stars, once, but a tragedy happened and most of them died. The last star, our sun, eventually managed to have its children, both the ones we see in the sky and the ones on our original homeworld. They say the stars we live beneath now are our siblings, in a way.” He flicked his ears in a centaur shrug. “I thought it was fitting.”

You put your hand over his, tracing your thumb along the back of his hand. “I like it.”

He leaned against you for a moment. “Have you checked the reports from the ship lately?”

Not The Ship, but the ship sent to find it- there’s no other ship he would be referencing. “Yeah. Still no updates. It’s only been a few months. You said it could be years before anything comes of it.”

“Yeah. Probably,” he agreed. You felt a bit chilled by it. Likely the only human around for years, if not forever.

But Grove-peace was warm and holding you. And you, despite the sadness that always sat in your chest, were calm and at peace.

And that was okay.

#exophilia #original writing #alien boyfriend #alien partner #ocxoc #reader insert #male monster #monster lover #monster romance

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danwhobrowses · 29 days

Text

One Piece Chapter 1113 - Initial Thoughts

It is time

One Piece is back again and the big announcement is almost underway. The Gorosei are circling though, much of the Straw Hats are cornered, will the revelation turn the tide?

Let's find out

Spoilers for the Chapter, Support the Official Release too!

A chess-themed colour spread this time; Robin playing chess with the crew as chess pieces

Contrary to the message the King should not be the attacking piece but other than that I did find it funny that Usopp is a Bishop with a bow and arrow, this cleric does harm!

Also lil Chopper pawns!

Picking up where we left off, Markus Mars has been stopped in awe of a sight in Punk Records

The remains of Vegapunk's humungous brain, as big or maybe even bigger than a giant, kept in a pod and still working even after his death

Mars does wonder if this is more Vegapunk's true self, which I guess if it has his brain it's probably the main part that's biologically living

People around the world brace themselves though

Syrup Village! Kaya, Merry and the old Usopp Pirates get a cameo

Despite her wealth being enough for Kuro to plan a murder/retirement spree, they do not have a Video Den Den Mushi

Though it seems like it's more size than price, and Kaya is already keen to hear what Vegapunk is saying, given his role in the medical field

Also lil' Merry details on the Den Den Mushi

The Marines are monitoring it too

Laboon and Crocus cameo!

And we even get to go to Baldimore, birthplace of Vegapunk

Some dialogue from the group that found Franky during the separation too

'I heard he's turned himself into a ship now' XD because of the bounty poster, and the bad timeline SBS image maybe, though I still think we could in the future get a Sunny mecha

Also got Chopper's bird and medic island listening in

The tribespeople even know about Vegapunk, they call him a 'king of modern science'

Even despite the Garp and SWORD attack, some pirates from Fullalead are listening in - some still wanna fight each other though

Mars tries to stamp out the Den Den Mushi, but it's of course a fake! It shatters to reveal just another regular Den Den Mushi

Fooled again motherfucker!

Vegapunk does introductions once more but now everyone wants him to get on with it XD

For the most part the more obscure world shots seem somewhat familiar, I couldn't tell what the rainy place was but it could be Water 7, the other one looked a bit familiar, the Longarm place looks like to have Brook's old talent agents too

But this campfire one, a child is hushed back to sleep by their likely mother, they're in tipi tents, what's interesting is the other person there, almost like Oda's pulling something sneaky

Through their collective telepathy, Mars announces his failure, it was a decoy so they have no leads

They wonder what Vegapunk intends to say, fearing that he'll carry on what Clover started before he was silenced

Back to Sanji and he hears a woman's scream

Bonney is being targeted by V. Nusjuro, Franky standing between them but Sanji demands to be the white knight

He jumps off the sword to kick him in the jaw

By comparison V. Nusjuro is pretty damn huge

His body sets on fire - fitting to his Yokai lore - but then the horse's head comes out to bite Sanji

Lots of crackling of bones, I wonder if his Healing Factor is still a thing

As Oimo and Kashii tackle V. Nusjuro (about the same size as them), Vegapunk's broadcast begins, admitting to committing two grave sins

Bonney turns into a giant with her fruit to attack V. Nusjuro, who has returned to his hybrid form

Vegapunk's broadcast admits that he is likely to be executed, and that this broadcast would start when his heart has stopped

Sabaody reacts first, realising that this means Vegapunk is dead

Duval has trouble processing this, since the news said that he was a hostage for the Straw Hats

Caesar's also mad, he and Judge went through that whole cover story alliance for nothing, so now they can promptly fuck off

And Morgans is angry because Vegapunk is giving BIG NEWS without him like it's not in his name

Interestingly, Vegapunk is quick to state that his killers should not be portrayed as 'evil' - because they're looking pretty damn evil to me

It seems maybe this is because he expects Luffy to have been pinned as to blame for his death, though it could be scanlations saying 'him'

Saturn faces off with the Labophase group, demanding they move away

Saturn and Robin however recognize one another, Robin from his voice back in Ohara and Saturn by her image

Seems Saturn blames Akainu directly for Robin's escape, I mean he did blow up the hostage ship but still, there were more marines out there

He goes to attack Robin, so all the other Straw Hats go into protection mode

Brook cuts a few limbs, but worryingly Chopper blocked some with his Guard Point - those limbs are poisonous remember? Though it's impressive that he could suppress a claw that could go straight through Kuma

Nami also remembers that she can use Zeus to block attacks

Mars is still on recon, but his senses can't pick up any 'telepathic waves' - wonder if that's a Haki feat or something relative to the Gorosei's shared thoughts?

York is also having trouble figuring out where the Stella would've put it, since her position as a Celestial Dragon is on the line

Vegapunk's about to deliver his mission statement, which is putting the Gorosei into a panic

Mars considers blowing up the entire place, but Saturn and Warcury are weighing it against the possible losses; men, equipment, and any chance of recreating the Mother Flame

Wait. What?

"Our World...is going to sink into the ocean!"

Well you can't deny it: Global Warming is Real.

It's not just Water Seven and Aqua Laguna then, it's all going to sink, there's a lot of thematic consequences to that when you think about it.

Did the World Government ostracize the Fish-Men because of this? Knowing that they would inherit the world? Does this have any connection to Devil Fruits and why the Ocean really saps their strength? Did the ancient kingdom like Old Wano sink to the bottom of the sea?

It begets a lot of questions, in true Oda fashion.

The rest of the chapter was a lot more jam-packed than the last, even without Luffy. The carried tension of the announcement is followed by Saturn and V. Nusjuro's confrontations with the crew, giants and Bonney. As expected, Sanji took on V. Nusjuro, the hit didn't seem to do much in the long term as expected, though I kinda wish Franky also got a hit in but the extent of his own injuries is worth wondering.

I'm glad the Labophase crew are stepping up against Saturn, at least until the expected arrival of Zoro and Jinbe, but it does show their furthered growth versus Enies Lobby if they can successfully repel Saturn from Robin - her injury being validated by this scene, though I still wish we saw a flashback of the Straw Hats vs Seraphim and them uncovering York as the traitor.

Still it's bad PR from the Straw Hats either way, they're likely to be accused of killing Vegapunk, who was last deemed their hostage by the fake news machine (is Morgans still going to Egghead? I mean with Vivi with him we continue to tease a reunion), and while Punk Records still has a chance to live on this is definitely going to be something each crewmate will have to re-evaluate given the bigger picture. Still, that can come after getting off the island; Edison and the Sleeping Giant are still at play after all, Stussy still needs to release the barrier, it's looking more likely that we might finish up around 1120.

Still there has to be more to the announcement, if Vegapunk was waiting for a video display it means that there are visuals to corroborate his revelation - I wonder if the Gorosei are more open to this reveal coming out than what they expected with the Ancient Kingdom reveal they destroyed Ohara for? Like did Vegapunk dupe the WG into Buster Calling Egghead over a reveal they didn't care much for? He mentioned two grave sins too so there seems to be much more to his announcement than just the opening statement.

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lollytea · 1 year

Note

Does Philip still get kicked to death in the La La Land Machine AU?

Nah Philip doesn't get the punishment he should have in this AU. He definitely believes his life was ruined beyond repair but he actually got off so easy.

He did get fucking beaten to a bloody pulp by Eda after putting his hand on Luz's shoulder. Unfortunately he didn't die. But he's so whiny about it that you'd swear he did.

He considered Hunter disowning him to be a stab in the back that he never really recovered from.

He had a very fucked up relationship with Luz too. They were initially on friendly terms. She looked up to him while he saw a lot of Caleb in her. He actually intended to try to make her the next star in his brother's place if Hunter "didn't work out." So Luz also turning her back on him made him furious.

Rumors of Philip's crimes of child abuse began to circulate and there was definitely plenty of evidence to support it, which led to inevitable controversy and well deserved public admonishment.

However, because Philip was such an influential and inspiring figure, there was also a huge part of the public that chose to believe that he was being slandered.

What can even be said? A celebrity with a good publicist will never face punishment.

It's all a hate campaign devised to tarnish Philip Wittebane's good name! His brother would be rolling in his grave. Hunter Wittebane should be ashamed of himself for spreading these lies. After everything his Uncle has done for him. It's insulting how ungrateful he is.

During this time, Hunter is strongly advised to block all these comments out.

Philip Wittebane dies of heart complications 10 years after he lost custody of his nephew.

The news breaks late at night and Hunter can't put his phone down.

He doesn't really know how to feel.

But seeing his Uncle's name cropping up everywhere online, scrolling through comments about how the world lost a legend today, oh it has him seeing red.

He's well and truly spiraling.

That man should have died from Hunter's fingers squeezing his throat. Instead, he passed away peacefully in a world that blindly loved him.

It's nearly 3am and Willow rolls over in her sleep, arm instinctively reaching out for her boyfriend whose usually lightly snoring beside her.

She finds him in his office, scribbling away in his notebook, manic and agitated.

He's recalling dozens and dozens of stories and frantically jotting them down, all about the things that man put him through.

He doesn't know why he's doing this. To cope? To assure himself that these things truly happened? He just feels like he needs to articulate them for once just to emphasize how not okay this all was.

That's all it is at first. A way for Hunter to come to terms with Philip's death. But in time, it becomes so much more than that.

There was a lot of people that hurt him. And Hunter is telling the story of them all.

It's shaping up to be a legit autobiography.

And of course, if he's going to talk about his life as a teenage boy, he has to mention Willow. Falling in love with her changed everything, how could he not mention it?

But he'd have to provide some context as to how their relationship functioned. And it was impossible to do so without explaining a little more about how she was exploited too.

Hunter doesn't want to tell Willow's story for her. Even if he's still livid about it all these years later. But Willow shrugs and says "Tell my story, Mr Writer. I trust you to do it justice."

And then this project just gets bigger and bigger. And now, with their permission, the book includes the mistreatment of the likes of Gus, Amity etc.

Hunter does not hold back. There are names. There are details.

Two years later, after a lot of smug cryptic tweets from Willow, Hunter's book "The Golden Screen" is published.

By this point in time, people are a lot more willing to accept that famous people are garbage sometimes. Especially Philip Wittebane. Even though he had a controversy over a decade ago, peoples memories are very short when it comes to the moral alignment of celebrities. So yes, people are now conceding that it is very likely that Philip Wittebane was a vile depraved monster.

It's kinda bittersweet. He didn't face the consequences he should have while he was alive. But at least his legacy was burned to ashes.

#La La Land Machine AU

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soleilnomoon · 2 years

Note

hi! I saw you reblog a post saying you wanted requests for a fanfic? I love your writing and I think it would be really cool if you wrote this 👉👈🥺💕 lol 💖💕 a fanfic I've always wanted to read would be a Trafalgar Law x Succubus!Reader, where the reader ate the succubus no mi but is a virgin and gets flustered easily and uses her aphrodisiac pheromones to basically order people about. but Law gets caught in it by accident during a fight and instead of listening to her orders (since he doesn't listen to people's orders, he is a Captain after all) he follows his lust and Rooms them out of the battlefield. thus causing them to both confess during the NSFW deed and ending with them both cuddling but reader is flustered and Law is embarrassed by the way he acted (but doesn't regret it lol). bonus part being the crew going "fucking finally, jfc...but couldn't they have picked a better time??" 🤣🤣

hiiiii thank u for being patient, this def was a a journey to write! i rewrote it so many times ૮₍˶ •. • ⑅₎ა but i like it! i hope you enjoy <3

4.8k words, fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni, a lil angst, a bit of fluff if you're a professional pretender; features cute things like oral (f receiving), fingering, other stuff, etc. law is obviously battling her devil fruit to see who's the bigger menace in her life.

a mantra that was instilled in you years and years ago — one that sits on your mind all day and night — is that your devil fruit power is a curse. your mother tells you as much when she sees how easily people are captivated by you; and while you don’t always mean to, you manage to compel others with ease. her envy knows no bounds, and you develop a complex and irreparable relationship with her. because the sea is a much more accepting and freeing place, you leave home sooner than necessary; despite the grief that marinates deep inside of your mother’s polarized emotions, a small part of her refuses to let you go. but, when she remembers the fury that accompanies her jealousy, she sends you off with a few flippant and melancholic words.

you don’t initially intend on engaging in a life of piracy, but it turns out that the sea is also a terrifying and selfish beast — traveling alone isn’t exactly the smartest idea, nor has it been easy, but you do eventually make it to an island that is well-known for its trading port. maybe you’ll find refuge there.

the main part of the town is vibrant, lively, and full of tourists. the townspeople are direct and loud, but also good-natured and amiable. the weather is tolerable, a little hot, but nothing you can’t handle. you love the way the sun warms your skin, and you’re sure that the onlookers gawking at you love it too. the townspeople aren’t exactly against pirates visiting — money is money, essentially — but given the proximity of the nearest naval base, most pirates know to avoid the island if they can.

law, unfortunately, is too stubborn to care about things like that; and since the polar tang is a submarine, he takes a few precautions to avoid detection. because of his notoriety, he opts to stay on board, sending bepo and a few others onto the island to gather supplies in his stead. it’s a relatively simple mission, one he knows they’ll execute without issue, but a sinking feeling swirls around his stomach. something will happen, he’s sure of it; he just hopes it’s not something life-threatening.

you’re in the middle of shopping, the owner of the boutique bringing you various outfits to try on; she’s enthralled, overly eager, and just a tad too obvious with her attraction — you didn’t even really try, your powers just get easier to use as time goes on. it’s only after you’ve succeeded in convincing the woman to let you have the clothes for free, that you walk out of the boutique with a sly smile on your face, a few strands of hair gliding against your cheek as the wind blows. you don’t normally try to compel others for petty things like that, but you really don’t have the money to buy anything right now.

the bags weigh heavily on your arms, but you refuse to let any residual guilt rob you of your indulgences. you spot a small group of pirates, talking amongst themselves, attracting more attention than they probably mean to. you figure they’re not anyone of importance, but something tells you to stay put; it’s then that you notice the familiar insignia, that you craft a plan. it’s dangerous for you to use your powers like that, but desperate times call for desperate measures, right? you know that infiltrating a pirate crew like theirs is the best way to survive in this sort of world.

letting out a soft sigh, you walk towards them and remind yourself to channel the sultry siren your mother painted you as; it’s not a confidence issue, it’s more that you’re usually afraid someone will see through your rouse, that they’ll know you’re not as experienced as they assume you are. it never bothered you until you grew older, but you’re definitely not equipped to deal with anyone who can withstand the impossibly irresistible pheromones you intentionally emit.

it’s bepo that falls victim first, the others soon after; he’s stuttering and blushing, and you can’t help but smile sweetly at that. you’re usually the one who can’t handle the straight-forward reactions of most, even though you hide it behind a well-crafted poker face, so it’s a nice change to see it in action.

“let me join your crew,” you say softly, voice melodic, the lilt thick like honey, drizzling over them repeatedly, until they’re so enamored all they can do is say yes simultaneously.

he anticipated a small margin of error, but not to this extent.

“walk me through this again,” he says through clenched teeth, fingers pinching the space between his eyes, his anger bubbling as he leans against the wall. he tries to keep his voice steady, doing his best to stop himself from fighting each one of them for their stupidity, but it gets increasingly difficult with each passing second. his dark aura shocks them into silence, so he fixes his eyes on bepo.

“w-well, captain, i’m not really sure how it happened.” which is the truth, he doesn’t; all he remembers is feeling very light and full at the same time; a fuzzy haze slowing his reactions, which is what gave you the perfect opening. in hindsight, you do feel a little bad; the crew seems decent, more or less, and you don’t intend on staying long, nor do you intend on using your powers on them like that. but, law doesn’t believe that. he thinks you’re much more manipulative than you want to admit; why else, despite his mumbled protests, he begrudgingly agrees to you joining them.

an 80 day probationary period is in effect for you, of course. if you violate any of the rules he’s established, he’ll kick you out without question — and that will be the lightest punishment you’ll receive on board the polar tang.

you have no choice but to follow through with his ridiculousness, hating that his hawkish gaze his absolutely unbearable, your face heating painfully as you try to avoid looking his way. he thinks the demureness you’re exhibiting is an act, so he stalks over towards you, his strides careful and measured. for some reason, your brain is stuck, so you don’t move; instead your mouth parts, your words sitting at the back of your throat, unable to come up any further.

“everyone,” he says loud enough for crew members that were still in the room, “out.” without needing to be told twice, they dissipate; you curse their cowardice, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you try to convince yourself to keep it together. he’s just one person, you tell yourself, the words a fast-acting form of relief, until you remember that he’s also an incredibly strong, infamous pirate captain.

still there’s really no reason for you to cower in his presence, right?

it’s painfully obvious that you’re childish and that you’re not used to being told no; law can tell from the way you’re fluttering your lashes at him. it won’t work, it won’t work — it won’t work. it’s what he tells himself as his jaw clenches, what he keeps telling himself when he grabs your face, holding you still, forcing you to look at him. it’s not necessary, there’s no way to avoid him when he’s that close to you.

“they’re gullible idiots,” his voice is low, the words cutting into you sharply, “but i’m not. try that shit again, and you’ll live to regret it.” he lets you go quickly, as if his hand was burned from the contact — and maybe it was, since your body can’t seem to cool off. throat dry, you place your hands on your cheeks, pressing against them gently, as if you have to remind yourself that yes that just happened. if you think you’ll have an easy time being a member of his crew, you’re horribly mistaken.

law heads back to his office, fuming — slamming the metal door behind him, the noise ricocheting fiercely around the room. he’s blinded by a severe bout of irritation that stems from his inability to come to terms with the fact that he finds you attractive. he decides that the best way to deal with you, is to simply act as if you don’t affect him; he’s very good at suppressing his desires, has a talent for lying about the things he truly wants — this will be a piece of cake.

hopefully.

the first few weeks are tricky; you get used to the swing of things rather quickly, bonding with the other crew members, gaining a bit more control of your power — much to their amusement and horror — and using it against enemy pirates whenever possible. but you find that you’re finding less of a reason to stop commanding people each time. law notices this, of course, pulling you aside to remind you of what he told you when you first arrived.

you do your best to act aloof, but his presence always throws you off; every time you walk past one another or whenever he touches you like that — no matter how brief it is — you’re stuck in a confusing loop, thoughts muddled, self-preservation completely out of the window as a sickeningly sweet warmth creeps into your chest. and, because you don’t know how to deal with those complicated feelings, you spark an argument that distracts him from staring at you like that — like he’s very close to figuring you out, a lucrative goal for a man as insistent and inquisitive as him.

you don’t like that; don’t like the way he’s always stoic, rude, mean — but not necessarily in a way that causes actual distress — or the way he seems to active avoid being near you whenever possible. you almost ask if you’ve done something to offend him, but that would mean having a conversation with him alone — and you’re not sure how much longer you can keep sane, you might accidentally blurt out something weird or personal. not that it would be the first time. he always seems to bring that out in you; the compulsion to bare yourself to him, in more ways than one, grows with each interaction.

try as they might, your crew mates cannot find a way to bring you two together — it’s hilarious, wholly too obvious, that law likes you more than he can stomach. it’s why he always seems to be annoyed with you, why he has a habit of ordering you around more than he does the others, and why he absolutely cannot be in your presence for longer than a few minutes at a time. the urge to touch you, to see more of those bashful reactions — where you can’t seem to talk in complete sentences, fidget with your hands, drop things, trip over flat surfaces — they overwhelm him, so he keeps his distance.

which is harder than he originally thought. still, he perseveres, much to the chagrin of his crew; they’re tired of whatever game of cat and mouse the two of you are playing, at times wanting to lock the two of you into a room just so you can figure it out.

they never do, of course — they have a little more tact than that.

it doesn’t mean that they don’t make comments disguised as jokes whenever they can, which annoys you because you’re very certain that law isn’t into you the way you’re into him. if he was, then he wouldn’t cut you off whenever you have the upper hand in the numerous fights you have, he wouldn’t get in your face and throw you off, he wouldn’t look at you as if he was close to shoving you against a wall and—

you stop those thoughts before you get ahead of yourself like you tend to do these days, and instead focus on not fucking anything up.

but, as fate is rarely on your side when you need it to be, you make the one mistake that you promised you wouldn’t make. it’s in the middle of a battle with an enemy group that wasn’t necessarily strong, but they were persistent and outnumbered your crew. you fight as hard as you can, until you decide to put your devil fruit to work; that familiar sensation fills your body, where you feel time slow down, where you can possibly command a group of people within specific parameters. it’s meant to trip them up, to make them retreat and stop fighting altogether. you’ve been careful, but this time you overestimate, and you didn’t expect law to head in that direction, but he does.

it tickles, really, he almost doesn’t feel it; your voice rings loudly in his ears, forcing him to pause and ignore the battle. he gives you a sharp look, his eyes narrowing in suspicion, the shock on your face gives you away. a rookie mistake, you’ll realize later on.

“wait, law, i’m… fuck, i’m so sorry.” you can’t take it back, once a command is said, they’re to follow it through no matter what. you’re sure he’s ready to cut your head off, but he just keeps staring at you — with the same sort of look he gives you whenever you’re saying something you know will set him off. you don’t know if that means he’s thinking things over, or if he’s already decided your fate. not one for predictability when he’s rattled, law doesn’t actually know what possesses him, but before he knows it, he’s teleported both of you away from the battlefield. it’s irrational, whatever compelled him; and he’s pissed about it.

why are you always serving as the worst kind of distraction for him? he’s a captain of a pirate group, he doesn’t have time for distractions — and, really, he doesn’t have time for you either. yet here he is, with you in his room, on the mostly empty polar tang, completely ignoring the fact that he left his crew to fend for themselves.

he’s sure that if he doesn’t act now, he’ll fall apart at the seams; before you can ask him why, he kisses you. the question vanishes from your mouth, swallowed entirely by him as his tongue caresses yours, a feverish feeling taking hold of you as you grab onto the front of his shirt — almost as if it’s a lifeline and you’re desperate not to float away.

there are plenty of things he wants to tell you, but can’t at the moment; he’s much too invested in exploring your mouth thoroughly, in his hands roaming along your body, grabbing on your ass firmly — a move that leaves you breathless and panting. a fog hovers around you, making it nearly impossible to think rationally. you know you should slow down, probably talk things out with him. if he hadn’t come into your attack range, he wouldn’t be this affected right now.

you pull away from him, eyes widening, as you look at him half in a daze and half concerned.

“we should s-stop,” you manage to say, swallowing hard as you place your palms on his chest and give him a light push. he watches you, eyes darkening, churning with an unbridled lust that might actually take his life if he doesn’t find a way to take care of it soon. “you don’t really want me, it’s just my devil f—”

law sighs loudly, effectively cutting you off, which only makes you snap your mouth shut and glare at him. you’re so embarrassed; it’s bad enough that he only wants you because you’re devil fruit power is difficult to resist, but now he’s making it hard to talk and explain things. you feel your heart sit heavily in your chest, heartbeat loud enough to put you on edge.

“you’re mistaken, y/n,” he starts, voice low and husky, as he pushes you onto his bed roughly.

again, you’re at a loss for words; your brain attempts several times to get back on track, but law is climbing on top of the bed and hovering over you, making everything complicated and maddening. his body heat makes you want to press closer to him, but you refrain, and find the words to articulate yourself properly.

“what do you mean?”

he lets another sigh slip before chuckling darkly, a sly smile tugging on his lips as he brushes his thumb against your lip.

“your power doesn’t affect me.” his explanation is so simple, you almost don’t believe him. your face must reflect that sentiment, because he clarifies. “there’s no one who can tell me what the fuck to do without my say so.” which isn’t entirely true, but you don’t point that out, since law will only follow someone else’s command if it aligns with his own interests.

“so this whole time?” you’ve been worrying yourself to death, thinking he was in danger around you, when he was completely fine. he doesn’t answer you — and why should he? it’s not actually important. he also doesn’t want to talk, he’s pissed about a lot of things. for one, he was distracted while fighting and you’re the cause of that distraction; he took the opportunity because he knew his crew could handle themselves without issue. besides, this is a rare time where he’ll be able to have you to himself without interruption.

his mouth is on yours again, giving you a long, lingering kiss, one that sends a jolt of arousal that rapidly spreads a warmth through your body all the way down to your toes. you can’t believe it’s happening; you’ve dreamt of this moment, but you never expected it to actually come true. it’s a little less gentle and romantic than you’d like, but nonetheless you’re just as excited to be able to touch and kiss him like this.

law doesn’t bother with niceties, he yanks your clothes off impatiently and you do the same for him. limbs tangled with his, hands sifting through his hair, grabbing onto the short strands when law’s mouth makes a treacherous descent down your body. he trails kisses on various spots on your neck, your breasts, stomach — tongue licking, teeth biting, the marks a pleasant reminder of this moment that you’re sharing with him. your back arches as your soft whimpering turns into moaning once his lips ghost along the inner part of your thigh. he caresses the skin, running his tongue up higher until he reaches your pussy.

you open your mouth to tell him — that you’ve never done this before, that while you have a basic idea of the mechanics, you don’t actually know. perceptive as ever, law simply shoots you a knowing look before gliding his tongue against your slit. you shiver at his touch, stammering over your words as you softly call out his name, legs spreading to give him more room. as someone who relishes in having control over himself, situations, and the lives of others, he’s acting rather impulsively right now.

he busies himself by burying his face in between your thighs, tongue parting your moist folds, arousal trickling onto his chin. his cock stiffens and if he wasn’t so invested in eating your pussy, he’d probably be stroking himself. your hips buck up against his face, your moans getting louder when he slips his tongue inside of your tight entrance, desperately wanting to taste you even more. he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s been holding himself back for so long, or because he just wants you — or both, perhaps.

whichever it is, it’s the driving force behind him swapping his tongue for his finger; he slides one inside of you slowly, tongue flicking against your clit before circling around it slowly, his finger sliding in and out of you slowly. your plush walls squeeze around him, especially when he starts sucking on your clit; you beg him to give you more, wanting him to command your body in a way that only he can. you’re not even exactly sure of what that is, but you’re so tired of not knowing; law slips another finger inside of you, giving you a moment to adjust to the intrusion.

you roll your hips against his hand, a breathy moan flying out of your mouth when he picks up the pace, scissoring his fingers inside of your needy cunt, your wetness gliding down his fingers and palm. you don’t think you can feel hotter until his tongue bullies your clit again, merciless with each stroke, his wrist angling as his fingers fuck you faster. “oh…fuck, yes, please don’t stop…” you’ll beg if you have to, that’s how deep your depravity goes, apparently.

it’s when he sucks on your clit that your orgasm takes you by surprise; you cum hard, thighs and hips shaking, pussy dripping as law laps it all up. you almost want to push him away, but you know damn well that a man like law has an insatiable way about him.

and you’re right, he does.

he gives you a heated look, tongue gliding along his lips as his hand wraps around his hardened length. you look up at him through your thick lashes, breath uneven as you watch pre-cum spill out from his slit, the thick head of his cock a tempting, devilish thing that rubs against your pussy almost possessively. another shiver ripples through your body, nipples hard, a different unfamiliar ache passing between your legs.

“i don’t think you’re aware of just how much you affect me,” he says, another bout of irritation rising within him, although this one is tame and much more manageable.

you roll your eyes at him, squirm underneath his hold, but offer back a slick retort in response. “i thought you said i don’t affect you.” you wonder if he’s just been playing with you this whole time.

law nudges his tip inside of you, bit by bit, slow and tortuous, the pain barely noticeable as he plays with your nipples, his teeth tugging on them, mouth sucking forcefully — like he’d rather do nothing but taste every part of your body. “you’re not listening,” he says before thrusting into you fully, burying his length into your pussy without remorse, eyes softening briefly as he watches you. “i said that your power doesn’t affect me.”

there’s a distinction there.

you don’t know what to say, but you do feel foolish — for thinking he didn’t want you, for thinking that the only reason he could possibly want you is because you compelled him. he pulls his hips back and snaps them against yours roughly, and you moan his name over and over, until all you can think about is the way law’s thick cock fills you up, of the way your pussy fits so snugly around him — something that makes him want to fuck you until you’re both too tired to move.

“i…,” you lick your lips, voice soft, panting lightly as your hips move in tandem with his, legs wrapping around his waist, holding him closer to you, wanting him to go deeper. “i… like you. a lot.” probably more than a lot, but he doesn’t need to know that. he doesn’t know why you’re telling him that, it was obvious from the way you reacted to him kissing you that you felt the same way as he did. it might’ve taken him some time, but law’s like that — always wants to put in work to ensure that he comes to an appropriate conclusion before acting.

you rake your nails down his arms as his hips jerk against yours roughly, his pace picking up, his thrusts deeper and graceful. the way his balls slap against you, makes you burn all over again; you’re not sure if it’s out of shame because the sound is turning you on even more, or if it’s because you realize that you’ve been missing out on so much. still, you’re quite happy that it’s law you’re being intimate like this with; you’re not naive enough to believe the universe paired you together intentionally, but the idea is a comforting one.

he kisses you sloppily, groaning as he gives you open-mouthed kisses. before you know it, law pulls out and flips you onto your stomach. you’re in such a daze that you comply right away, he admires the shape of your ass, the width of your hips, the curves along the rest of your body; law drops a kiss onto the middle of your back. it’s much too intimate for his taste, but he couldn’t stop himself from doing it.

after letting out a very audible moan, his voice is harsh, full of lust, when he mutters, “fuck,” under his breath, sliding his cock inside your pussy and enjoying the sweet sensation all over again. if he had to choose between fighting alongside his crew against a weak, annoying pirate group, and fucking you — he’d choose you time and time again. it’s a troubling thought, but he won’t revisit it anytime soon. for now, he’s focused solely on making sure you cum again.

leaning closer, chest barely touching you as his hips bump against your ass, burrowing his cock deeply inside of you. your hips move on their own, meeting his hasty thrusts with vigor, wanting to him to fuck you hard enough that you’ll feel it for days — and if you had more time on your hands, he probably would. but that’ll have to wait for another day. law presses a kiss against your jaw, heart thudding, making him feel uneasy, but he swallows that down and focuses on the way you’re squeezing around his cock tight enough to incapacitate a weaker man.

he whispers filthy, impractical things, like “if you keep clenching around me like that, i won’t last much longer” and, “you’re taking me so well”, and also, “your pussy is so greedy, sucking me in like that.” the last one takes you by surprise, to the point that you’re too bashful to respond, which, for some unknowable reason, strikes him as adorable. and if he was in a better state of mind, he’d retract that statement; but it hangs around his head, taunting him with each thrust of his hips, reminding him that having feelings like that is dangerous and that someone like you could compromise everything he’s worked hard for.

but, he’s tired of that sort of paranoia dictating how his life should go; he ignores those pesky thoughts and presses a kiss on your shoulder. maybe it’s because your pussy finally tapped out, or maybe it’s because that gesture alone practically incapacitates you — your heart and head full of silly notions — but another orgasm finds you, leaving you a sweaty, panting mess, voice plenty hoarse from how loud you were.

his own orgasm is close by; law gives you short, frenzied thrusts, calling out your name tenderly, making your whole body flush with awareness, pussy clenching around him again when he teeters over the edge, cumming thickly inside you. because of the forcefulness of his thrusts, you’re bucking your hips against him again, body sensitive but craving more of him. you don’t know if it’s the devil fruit, or just him but you can’t get enough. and while law would love to indulge you, he knows that the rest of the crew will be back sometime soon — and he’d rather avoid the awkward conversation that will inevitably happen when they find out.

he collapses onto the bed next to you, arm wrapping around you lazily as you press closely to him. you can barely look at him — and you don’t know what to say, either; there are too many thoughts buzzing through you, but thankfully he won’t press you for details. a sense of clarity that tends to hit post-orgasm settles inside of him, clearing some of the fog from his head. it’s with great embarrassment that he realizes he actually abandoned the crew to come fuck you; highly impractical, unethical, and plain wrong. does he regret it? no, absolutely not. but, still, he’s been with his crew for so long, they deserve much better than that. he doesn’t get much time to stew, as there’s a loud banging on his door.

assuming the worst, law quickly puts his pants on and rushes to open the door. the crew is mostly gathered outside of the room, and it’s bepo who chastises law for being rash and for not coming back sooner.

“did you lose?”

bepo shakes his head quickly, mouth opening to offer a rebuttal, but law sucks his teeth, annoyance filling his head again as he slams the door in their faces. like he said previously, a bunch of idiots. you try not to laugh, but the situation is pretty fucking funny.

unbeknownst to the both of you, your crew mates took bets on how long it would take before the two of you finally hooked up, raucous cheering further pissing law off as he makes his way back to his bed, the reality of him having to deal with them and their insufferable comments later on just makes him groan loudly.

he really does have terrible timing.

#it's finally doneee #i feel like i say that a lot; i'm such a slow writer lmaooo #fic request #one piece imagine #one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law smut #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #law x y/n #law smut #law is a mess...i know...it's just his thing™#ottersdeservelove

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sunwarmed-ash · 10 months

Note

I love you, friend! 💕

A couple of my headcanons for your amusement:

1) Connor likes to spend his free time playing video games (esp. farming sims) because they trigger the Mission Successful reward system in his brain

2) Gavin has quite the collection of fantasy dildos 😈

first off i love BOTH OF THESE. Very canon to me imo, I wrote the second one first, I hope you enjoy!

*NSFW warning*

Secret Box

This thing, between the three of them, that started small and innocently enough, turned into something so much bigger, stronger, and honestly sexier than any of them initially intended. So much so they closed on a three bedroom house last week and Hank, Sumo, Connor, and Gavin are moving in together.

But moving is also greuling, at least to the two humans who complained about aches and pains every free moment they could. It's why Connor offered to bring everything in in the first place. Connor would not get tired. He was specifically designed for advanced stamina. But Hank and Gavin were two of the most prideful and stubborn men Connor has ever met.

It took them a while to agree, but after Hank’s back popped in a way that was more bad than good, he threw the white flag and thanked Connor for his help before going to pass out on the couch.

Gavin lasted a little longer, but once he and Connor carried their king sized mattress up two flights of stairs, he threw the flag too.

There aren't too many more boxes, under half a dozen, and most of them headed for the same floor. He should be done and ready to lay down with his exhausted humans in about 15 minutes.

Connor moves another large wardrobe box containing some of Hank’s old suits exposing a time faded blue, 15x15x10 box that he doesn't remember packing on the truck. Or seeing before honestly.

Written all across the slightly yellowing cardboard is handwriting that matches Gavin’s, the words,

DO NOT OPEN UNLESS YOU ARE GAVIN

I MEAN IT DICKHEADS

MY STUFF, HANDS OFF! *

Over almost every surface.

A padlock opened in Connors vision and a prompt to

Open the box?

Had him biting into his lip so hard it bled, in strain to do the right thing.

Because, well it's not his stuff. It’s very obviously Gavin’s. But whatever is in there, it's obvious he wants to keep it a secret. Under plenty of warfare in fact.

What's the phrase Hank always says to him, curiosity killed the cat?

Well, Connor isn't a cat, he’s an android. But he’s also not an idiot. He won’t open it down here, in plain view of everything and everyone. He will take it upstairs, into their shared master bedroom and open it there.

Connor hasn't felt a choice impact him this strongly since he deviated. It's weird. It's just a box, he shouldn't be afraid of the damn thing. But it wasn't necessarily the box that was scary. It was the potential of everything that could be in there.

What could be in there that Gavin didn't want Hank and him to see?

Maybe it was something super rare. Like the world's only albino guinea pig.

Or maybe Gavin’s a master jewel thief and it's full of diamonds…

Or maybe Gavin’s a deranged maniac who keeps his victims severed heads in a box!

Or worse….

What if its an embarassing snapshot of Connor from the DPD Christmas party?!??!

His fans whirring in his obvious anxiety attack has him shaking his head and clearing all of the ridiculous thoughts he just had. It’s just a box. And he knows Gavin better than he knows most people in the world after nearly 2 years.

But once he opens the lid of the long traveled box, he instantly wished he hadn’t.

Mostly, because in that moment, someone had come into the room behind him, exposing his crime. And even worse, that person was Gavin.

“Hey! What are you doing!”

“I'm sorry!!” Connor panics, slapping the lid back onto the box so hard its sides folded under his force. He didn't even get a chance to look at everything inside, he was too scared of Gavin’s much deserved, wrath.

“Ey, easy!! Those aren't cheap you know!” Gavin says, genuine worry in his tone and Connor’s hands pulls off the box and steps back.

Hank and Sumo are on Gavin’s heels, barging sleepily into the room to add to his humiliation.

“What’s- oh shit. Ha! I see you found Gavin’s collection.”

Connor and Gavin’s cheeks boths flushed in embarrassment.

“Hank!” Gavin scolds at the same time Connor asks,

“What are they?”

“What do you mean what are they? They’re fucking dildos” Gavin says hotly, temperature matching the blood boiling under his cheeks.

Connor looks at the box with the busted lid again, though he doesn't need to. He has the video feed already saved, he can bring up every inch of his first glimpse in high graphic detail.

“But, they don’t, look like our other ones,” Connor says carefully, reading Gavins stress levels and adjusting his particular phrasing.

“Cuz they’re not modeled after human dicks,” Gavin says again, and Connor thinks about the one on top. The one that didn't look like a dick at all. More like a tongue, easily as long as Hank’s cock but curved and shaped drastically different.

“And that feels good?” there wasn't any judgment in Connor’s voice, just genuine curiosity. He thinks that's what really gives him the upper hand and reduces some of Gavin’s stress.

“It feels phcking incredible. All of them do.”

“Some of those are big Gavin.”

“I’m well aware.”

Connor’s eyes glazed over, imagining Hank using any of them on Gavin, or vice versa. It was enough motivation for Connor to then ask, with the biggest, softest eyes he can, if he can fuck Gavin with one.

Gavin’s knees shake as he struggles to take the ninth irregularly bulging inch, but he begged for it deeper, his cock still stiff and spitting fluid all down the shaft.

“Phck,” he can’t keep the pant back as much as he wants to. It hurts, but in the way he loves, and the fact that Hank and Connor are both so obviously getting off to it only adds to it.

“You’re doing so good Gavin,” Hank praises, and Gavin feels more fluid fall off the tip of his cock onto their mattress below. He felt like he was about to lose his mind, so he’s glad at least it looks more polished than he feels.

“Con, don’t stop, please.”

Connor’s hand squeezes his hip before twisting the bulging dildo in his ass.

The pleasure that rocketed through Gavin’s body at that particular action knocks out his knees and Gavin is barely holding his face off the mattress by his elbows. “Oh my god.”

“It’s actually Connor, but I appreciate the compliment,” the robot sasses and if Gavin wasn’t so desprate for an orgasm, he might have shot something back. Instead he shuddered, and pulled his tired legs back to their original position. It lined one of the bumps of the dildo up with his prostate and Gavin was putty in Connor’s hands.

“Are you gonna cum?” Hank asks, sitting on the bed beside him, running his warm hand across Gavin's face to get the sweat out of his eyes.

Gavin nods in Hank’s hand, and then Connor’s thrusts becomes relentless. It doesn't take much at all, and then Gavin is screaming through a painfully strong orgasm.

AN: I'm sorry for the minor crack, but I just had to with the spongebob reference. It really wrote itself. You can blame Daddy Clancy for the melding of fandoms in my brain.

As for the sex toys, use your imagination or alt the links I got the inspo from 1. 2.

* do I have a box just like this? Wouldn't you like to know weather boy.

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politemagic · 7 days

Text

The Haunting of Sleep Manor: Chapter III

II has a strange dream. A priceless chandelier is destroyed. Vessel knows he needs to tell the others about what he's experienced, but there are still things left to uncover at Langley Manor.

Masterlist

2.2k words | ao3

a/n: this story is turning into a much bigger beast than I initially intended, so I thank you all for your patience & support as I've been writing! your kind words have meant the absolute world to me, I hope you continue to enjoy the spooky adventures.

II was trudging down a path in the woods, the ground slowly turning from coarse dirt to a thick black sludge that clung to his bare feet, reluctant to let go with each step he took. But II had to keep going. He always had to keep going.

Vessel’s voice bounced off the tree trunks, his shrieks stabbed themself into II’s ears and blood began to trickle down the column of his throat. It was unlike any sound he’d ever heard from Vessel’s mouth: it was a soul-crushing, heart-wrenching wail filled with a pain that was so palpable it made it difficult for II to breathe. When he tried to call out to him, he found only silence in the space where his voice should have been.

The woods grew dark around him, a kind of unnatural darkness you’d imagine comes to you on your deathbed. II could feel tears streaming down his cheeks, blood oozing from his ears, he continued to fight against the seemingly sentient ground beneath his feet. The black sludge beneath his feet grew thicker, tearing the skin from his soles, gripping his ankles like a demon determined to drag him down to Hell. He tried again to call out to Vessel, determined to find him in this horrific place, but once again his voice box was empty, no sound passing his lips. He wrenched his foot from the sludge, yet this time it did not let go. Instead, it snapped II’s foot right back beneath its opaque surface, sending him toppling backwards.

The sludge welcomed his fall with open arms. The mysterious substance quickly engulfed him, and II watched in horror as his body disappeared before his own eyes, sinking lower and lower into the void of darkness until only his face remained above the surface. Vessel’s wailing cries grew louder as he was submerged. He tried to wriggle free, desperate to free himself and find his friend. But he knew he didn’t have much time as he felt the pressure of the sludge around his chest mounting quickly. It began to creep into his ears, teasing the seam of his lips as it consumed him, dragging him away from Vessel. The only consolation was that the sludge managed to muffle the sound of his screams, the sound of his failure, though it seemed to have a voice of its own that flooded into II’s mind as he lost himself in the darkness.

“You have finally come home to me, II.”

The sound of the familiar voice nearly stopped II’s heart. Without thinking he parted his lips to reply, and the sludge wasted no time in claiming his insides as it had claimed his limbs. It rushed down his throat, flooded his veins and began to devour everything that he was, everything he knew.

II’s eyes shot open, his breath coming out in short gasps as his body thrashed against the couch cushions, believing them to be the same darkness from his dream. It took him a moment to collect himself and regain full control of his limbs, the cold sensation of the sludge still receding from his body. Finally he swung his legs over the side of the couch and the sensation of the cold floor against his feet snapped him into reality. He glanced around the empty living room which was faintly illuminated by the warm morning sun leaking in through the curtains. He assumed everyone else had already woken up and tried to push himself to his feet but felt a sharp pain shoot up his legs from the bottoms of his feet, causing him to drop back down onto the couch in surprise. He carefully lifted his foot to examine it, and found the sole stained completely black, with small pieces of skin peeling away to reveal the raw, red flesh beneath. He found the other to be in identical condition.

He had to find the others.

II carefully raised himself from his seat, wincing as he felt the sting of the broken skin against the cold floor. He padded out into the hallway, where he could just barely make out a set of voices coming from the kitchen. He poked his head around the door frame, expecting to find the others sitting around the kitchen table chatting like normal, but he found the room empty. He furrowed his brow and began to turn to walk back towards the foyer when he heard a loud crash. He walked as fast as his aching feet could carry him towards the source of the sound, a slight panic blooming in his chest.

II emerged from the hallway to see III careening down the stairs, IV close on his heels. They all stopped dead in their tracks at the sight of the remains of the chandelier that once hung from the ceiling scattered across the floor of the foyer. Vessel was in the doorway to the library, eyes wide in fear as he stared at the broken light fixture, only feet from where he now stood.

“What the hell happened?” II asked, looking between the shards of shattered crystal and Vessel.

“Are you alright?” IV asked, skirting around the broken shards to stand before Vessel, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I was just coming out of the library when…” He trailed off, gesturing from the ceiling to the floor with his hand.

“It’s probably just an old chandelier,” IV said reassuringly. Though something in II’s gut told him that the chandelier didn’t fall from the ceiling at random.

“Oh sure. Yeah, that was just an old chandelier and those were just rats that I heard upstairs yesterday, right?” III replied sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest. II looked pointedly at Vessel, who was already looking at him when he spoke again.

“There’s some things I need to tell you about.” Vessel said seriously, looking between the three of them before walking into the living room, nodding his head for them to follow.

“What’s going on, Ves?” IV asked softly as he, II, and III sat shoulder-to-shoulder on the couch in front of Vessel, who took a seat on the floor.

“There’s more. About the house.” Vessel started, taking a deep breath.

“What? Not structurally sound after all?” III said in an attempt to lighten the mood, but the look in Vessel’s eyes had him clamping his mouth shut.

“The house is haunted.” Vessel said simply, and the others looked between each other with concern.

“So, The chandelier…” III began, trailing off when Vessel nodded.

Vessel began to explain what he had seen in the kitchen the day before. The others listened intently, nodding along as Vessel described the ghosts he had seen, the way the one had spoken to him so coldly.

“I felt unwelcome the second I stepped inside, but she made it abundantly clear herself, too.” Vessel said, rubbing his hand over his chest where he could still feel the unease clenching his chest.

“Well they’re going to have to get over that.” III scoffed.

“She said something about ‘our kind’ making things worse.”

“Fuck’s that supposed to mean?” III asked, feeling anger bubbling in his chest at the thought of being unwelcome in their own home. “She doesn’t know shit about us.”

“Perhaps we’re not the first that Sleep has brought here?” II offered, and Vessel shrugged.

“Whoever came before us, I don’t think Sleep guided them here in the same way… But there is something strangely powerful about this house. I just know it.”

“What do you mean?” IV asked, and Vessel glanced over to II, who nodded his head encouragingly.

Vessel began to tell them the story he’d told II the night before of his encounter with Sleep. III sat perfectly still for a change, only moving to rest his elbows against his knees as he listened to Vessel describe the realization that he was no longer in his physical body. As II listened he felt that same cold from his dream begin to lap at the lesions on his feet, sending a shiver up his spine. When Vessel finished his recollection, II spoke softly.

“He came to me, too.” Vessel’s eyes widened at II’s admission.

As II told his own tale of his interaction with Sleep, he felt that dreamy cold crawling up his legs, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Is Sleep listening to us? He thought to himself, and a faint voice in his head told him that He was always listening.

“And when I woke up, I noticed this.” II said, looking between them hesitantly before he lifted his foot from the floor. IV and III leaned closer so they could inspect the raw flesh coated in black. IV glanced up at II with a hint of fear in his eyes.

“How could He have done that to you? I’ve never even felt His physical form…” IV trailed off.

“I think something about being in this house makes our connection to Him stronger,” Vessel started, and they could see the gears turning in his mind. “He was able to induce a dream state and He’s never done that before, so I don’t see why He wouldn’t also be able to physically touch us.”

“Maybe that’s why we were led here, if He’s more powerful here.” IV offered.

“I think I know the first step to figuring this whole thing out,” III said, the others turning to look at him. “I think we need to get up to the fourth floor. See if what you saw in your dream was real.”

“It seemed like His living quarters,” Vessel said. “It felt almost like He was inviting me into His bedroom.”

Vessel heard a gasp, and his eyes snapped to the doorway, where he saw a female ghost he hadn’t seen the day before, and surely he would have remembered her. In contrast to the air of authority surrounding the woman he’d seen in the kitchen, she had an aura of love about her. She was beautiful, the kind of beautiful that would have dropped jaws and turned heads in her lifetime. Her hand was pressed against her chest where he imagined her heart once beat, and she shook her head furiously at him.

“Whether your dream was real or not, I think we can all agree that there’s something up there.” IV said, oblivious to their new listener.

“Oh, so we don’t think they were rats anymore then?” III said with a slight smirk on his lips, earning him a thwack! on the chest from IV.

“We won’t know until we look, will we?” II added with a shrug, turning to see Vessel’s eyes transfixed on the doorway.

“You must stop them!” The ghost cried, breezing into the room to kneel on the floor beside II’s legs. “Please, you will only make things worse.”

“What do you mean?” Vessel asked her, scrunching his brow.

“I mean, I think the only way to-” II began explaining, only to be quickly shushed by Vessel. II furrowed his brow in confusion, following Vessel’s fixed gaze to the empty space beside the couch, his face melting in understanding.

“You will not learn anything. He will only use you to become more powerful.” The woman replied.

“What do you know about Sleep?” Vessel asked, his eyes not leaving hers. The others sat in silence as they watched Vessel converse with the invisible woman.

“Is that what you call Him?” She asked softly, almost thoughtfully. “I’ve heard Him called many names over the years.”

“What do you know of Him?” He pressed.

“I think the question here is not what I know, but rather what you know. He has never been so forthcoming before, never shown Himself to anyone. You four seem to be… different from the others.” She conceded, letting her eyes drift over the other three beside her.

“Different how?” He asked, but she only shook her head.

“The chandelier was supposed to be a warning. You should get far, far away from this place, it is not your home.”

“We were brought here with divine purpose,” Vessel said pointedly to the ghost. “We were brought here in service to Sleep, and we have every intention of staying.”

“Vessel?” III said hesitantly, wanting to understand the context of the one-sided conversation. The ghost’s eyes snapped back to Vessel.

“You’ve given him your name, haven’t you?” She whispered, her eyes widening. She shook her head vigorously, making a cross over her chest as she stood. She cast a pitying glance over the four of them before she disappeared from Vessel’s sight. Vessel felt a sinking feeling in his chest at her reaction and he fully turned his attention back to the other vessels.

“Ghost?” II asked, to which Vessel nodded.

“She seemed afraid of something. She said it was a warning, the chandelier.” Vessel answered.

“Some fucking warning.” II muttered, shaking his head.

“They’re going to have to do a lot worse than that if they want to get rid of us.” III said loudly, turning his head just in case there was another eavesdropping ghost.

“What are we going to do?” IV asked worriedly, and Vessel just shrugged.

“We’re going to find out what the hell is going on, is what we’re gonna do.” III said with determination, standing from the couch and walking out of the living room.

as always, any comments/feedback are greatly treasured and appreciated <3

taglist: @bucchiarati (if you would like to be tagged in future updates, just let me know🖤)

#WE'VE GOT A GHOST GANG!!!!! sending a big ole smooch on the head to anyone who knows who it is bc you read my ramblings #sleep token #sleep token fanfiction #the haunting of sleep manor #sleep token vessel #sleep token ii #sleep token iii #sleep token iv #sleep token au #em's stcu

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chaifootsteps · 7 months

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gonna drop my initial thoughts on the recent episode here real quick-

my first thoughts is that is wasn’t THAT bad, at least from the last few episodes I think it’s a step up. It just doesn’t clutch the same impact Ozzie’s had for me though

Glitz and Glam kind of fucked honestly- I think I like them. Sad that they’re probably just gonna be one-offs cause I liked the general idea of their designs and whole vibe. Wish we saw more of them (granted they’re female Viv characters so I’m not surprised). Wished they didn’t blend into the background and their designs didn’t have so many patterns it hurt my brain when they moved. Sad how they didn’t feel much like antagonists and were just sort of there

Mammon sure does exist. I somehow got more disappointed and frustrated with his design. Mostly because when I realized he was also supposed to be a spider I really wish Viv leaned more into the spider aspect than the fucking Christmas tree motif. Even his big demon form is lackluster it just looked like his original design but bigger- more Christmas tree and with a vague spider body and tiny ass eyes that got really fucked up the further away they were

bet you that Viv only really thought about the circus theming how hell with Mammon as a clown and Lucifer as a ring leader and just stopped it there- but she’s gonna insist it’s present!

Blitz felt sort of pointless in this episode. To keep it brief it didn’t feel like his and Fizz’s relationship went anywhere and it was just replaying emotions they already had from the previous episode.

Im trying to keep this short lol- another thing is that I think they really struggle with writing these more complex and emotional themes. They just keep repeating the same “are you okay” “I’m fine” “you don’t have to do this” “it’s for Mammon” “I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine” over and over and over again

It felt like they had the same scene over and over again but it also felt like we didn’t even learn much

as usual the episode was very fast paced but it also felt like nothing really happened

that sign language scene was nice though. So glad they didn’t ruin it with a shitty joke, for a moment they actually cracked how to write a nice wholesome scene

Fizz and Ozzie are fine. Much better than Stolas and Blitz by a mile.

I’m curious to see where they go from here- like how Mammon intends to make Ozzie “regret saying he loves Fizz”

I really wanna analyze and critique this episode more in depth later but uhhhhh real quick Viv thought she was being cheeky with the “women aren’t funny” joke that was followed up by her credit popping up. Ironic cause I didn’t laugh at all during this episode and the entire opening humor was just more cursing and expecting the audience to laugh

I have things I want to say turning in my head- I will very likely be back lol

They're good thoughts! I didn't even really notice just how repetitive the scenes were until you pointed it out, but it's true. It was just the same exchange over and over.

#Anonymous #helluva boss critical #actual blog post

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pumpkincarriage3 · 1 year

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Grimm Character Analysis

Grimm is the first character that Yuu meets. Grimm is also the character that has been present in every chapter thus far. He typically plays a bigger role -- chapter 6 non-withstanding -- so he naturally gets quite a bit more character growth. Though, ironically for the character with so much character growth, he's backstory is pretty vague. It might be of importance in chapter 7 later, but there's no telling as of now.

When we first meet Grimm, he's a little sociopathic? Or maybe it could just be considered a species difference in morality. Take for instance, people in Twisted Wonderland have no problem killing monsters (Crowley literally makes the off-hand comment that since he's so "kind" he won't turn Grimm into stew, implying that this is normal), so it might be normal for monsters to kill humans or beings that take on a more humanoid appearance.

Which is probably why when Yuu doesn't immediately give Grimm their robe, he threatened to burn them. A lot of people don't really talk about how Grimm threatened to kill Yuu upon first meaning, instead playing it up as Grimm not actually being a threat, or as Grimm not actually meaning it. But Grimm fully planned on killing Yuu if he didn't get that robe. If Crowley hadn’t stepped in when he did, not only would the library have likely burned down, Yuu would be dead.

And this violent behavior continues into the Entrance Ceremony where he randomly sets things on fire. He sets Kalim on fire. And that's just the person we know about, who knows who else he might have burned. He didn't care that he was hurting people. He didn't care that he could potentially kill them.

And the next time Yuu speaks to Grimm, while Grimm doesn't attack them, its because Yuu doesn't have anything Grimm desperately wants. Realistically, Grimm would have stayed their regardless of Yuu's wishes. (The player can select an option where Yuu calls for the "Guards" and Grimm freaks out, but that's probably because Grimm was expecting someone like Riddle to come out and collar him again. He was never frightened of Yuu. And if it was ever shown that Yuu was bluffing and still trying to kick Grimm out, and Grimm realized, I doubted he would have hesitated to harm Yuu in that part of the story.)

Grimm actively looks down on others. It's in part because of that switched monster-human mentality. Human's think themselves better than monsters because they see monsters as mindless beasts. Monsters sees themselves better than humans because humans are weak. Add in the fact that Grimm has magical abilities, and Yuu doesn't, he looks down on Yuu in particular even more. But he looks down on most of the NRC population as a whole because from what is shown, most of the NRC population is humans.

Grimm is prideful. He's proud of being a monster. He's proud of his magic. And because of that mentality, he feels as if he has a superiority over everyone. Which in turn leads to laziness. Though, the reason why he refuses to do everything isn't just because he's lazy, it's also because he thinks himself better than other people so he thinks they should serve him. Because in the end Grimm fully intends on becoming the greatest magician. To Grimm it isn't an if, it's a when.

Though, it's not like this pride keeps Grimm from connecting with people. Keeps him from wanting to connect with people. Because we see that he does. Anytime he mentions his past, of always been alone, he seems melancholic because he doesn't want to be alone.

And then the person that helps him gets into NRC, someone he has to rely on, is a magicless human of all things. Grimm still looks down on humans. He still looks down on others without magic, but he isn't incapable of forming connections with them anyway.

In fact, we see over the course of the story, that even with his pride and initial distaste for humans, he grows to care about Yuu. He cares about their safety and their feelings on things, even though before he only cared about himself. Crowley was right that Grimm doesn't understand human culture and that's why he needed Yuu to help him, because Yuu was so different from other NRC students.

Because of the events that happen over the course of the story, Grimm grows as a person. To think of others and not just himself. To look at the situation as a whole instead of just jumping into things with no impulse control. He learns how to make friends and connects with others. The importance of hard work and what that work can achieve for him.

Grimm is the character that receives the most growth throughout the story, for the Grimm we have now isn't the same as we started with. And he's still growing.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #Disney twst wonderland #twst fandom #twst Grim #character analysis

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cheeseburgersinparadise · 9 months

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Editor's note: this ended up longer than intended, but I think it was worth it

Submitted for the approval of the horny Tuesday society:

Lately I've been thinking of a cross-country road trip to all the viral food, challenge meal, "Guy ate here," "world's largest ___" restaurants in the nation. All culminating to a stop at the Heart Attack Grill in Las Vegas

Imagine packing a set of clothes that fit for the eating partner. Maybe they're even a size too big, just in case. Before leaving, you weigh them. They're under Heart Attack Grill's threshold for free burgers, but you think you can change that before you get there.

This trip is slower than many other cross-country trips. Turns out, there's a lot more famous eateries than you two initially anticipated. That's fine though, your feedee is beyond excited to visit more eateries.

It quickly becomes evident that eating several massive resturant meals a day is having an effect on the feedee. They are absolutely blowing up, getting bigger and softer with every passing state. The clothes that you originally packed have become inadequate for containing them and wardrobe malfunctions become increasingly common. What they don't know is that you've been saving all the buttons they pop along they way.

After a long trip, there's only one stop left. The Heart Attack Grill. Your road trip buddy has done so well this entire trip and has gobbled up everything put in front of them. They've really grown, it's completely undeniable. They waddle up to the massive scale at the front of the restaurant excited to see the progress they made on this journey.

Your guess at the start of the trip was right, they have blown way past the weight threshold. After a moment of celebration, they hurry back to you and tell you with short breath that they plan to take full advantage of the free food. You tell them how proud you are and present them with a necklace made with all the buttons they popped throught the trip. They thank you as they put it on before you two head inside.

They weren't kidding, they're scarfing down burgers and fries like they were starving. All washed down with rich shakes and soda. Their clothes become more restrictive and you tease that you'll need to make an addition to the necklace by the end of the meal. Your waitress decided that such a display of gluttony shouldn't go unnoticed. She starts encouraging them each time she comes back with more food and loudly announcing the count of each sandwich they finish for the other patrons to cheer on.

By the end of the feast, they are absolutely stuffed and whining that they can hardly move. With all the attention they ate far more than they had before and now they're practically begging for some care. You give them a gentle rub and tell them they deserve anything they need for being so good today and during the whole trip.

I’ve been waiting all day to answer this bc I wanted to give it the attention it deserves. I wanted to write something inspired by this but my brain isn’t cooperating today. You’re a fuckin hero for sending this to me; thank you so much.

there’s a lot of soft bits in here that are so cute - the button necklace (which tbh could be cute as hell depending on the design), the aftercare, the challenge to gain x amount of weight before the final destination, the romance of an American road trip…

I’ve talked before about how fun a feedism road trip would be, eating at all fun places as you cross the country and I think the idea of ending it in Vegas is perfect.

Thank you again!

#i generally don’t like the concept of the heart attack grill but I can make an exception when it’s paired with whimsy and love #chzburger answers

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xalygatorx · 6 months

Text

Worthy (2015) | Chapter 8, "Sentiment"

Disappearing sporadically in public spaces quickly becomes Cora Dempsey's least concerning problem when suddenly she captures the attention of the forming Avengers Initiative, the World Security Council, and Asgard's fallen prince all in one week. And the universe is only just getting started with her.

Worthy is a slow-burn SFW Marvelverse (films) romance between Loki and a female OC. For additional details on what canon is used, see the Prologue post.

Summary: SHIELD’s hunt for Cora is escalated to a threat level by the WSC. Cora receives devastating news that makes her desperate to leave the warehouse despite Loki’s refusal to let her do so. Cora finds a way around his rules.

Pairing: Loki x Fem!OC

Warnings: Death of a relative (found out via text)

Word Count: 3k

Fury couldn't say that he was surprised he had another conference call in less than twenty-four hours. He couldn't say he was happy about it either; not even close. He'd been sitting with Coulson in the conference room, going over potential tweaks to the Avengers Initiative setup and chatting about Tony's new self-sustaining "baby," Stark Tower, when the windows had flickered into their screen mode and a ringer started cycling.

He'd hoped it was Alexander, even Sharon would have sufficed. However, when he reluctantly answered the call, the panels were filled with the faces of the World Security Council, including Warren. Director Fury swallowed a more colorful array of words before verbalizing a cleaner copy of what he'd been thinking. "What a surprise. Has something happened?"

A thin-lipped woman with bobbed hair and lipstick that matched the color of her blazer smiled superficially and replied while shuffling some papers, "Not yet. That's what we intend to prevent, Director Fury."

"What Councilwoman Jenner means to say is we have…concerns," Warren supplied, seeming a bit more amiable in this conversation. Then again, he was in his own element again and his backup was present.

"Concerns about what?" Fury asked straightforwardly, sick already of the Council's little conversation games.

"Subject Camo," Jenner answered after a collective moment of hesitation, her English accent thick and her hands folding in front of her on the desk as she leaned forward. He started to argue, but she held up her hand and continued, "It's become apparent that your division and, hm, 'Avengers' are incapable of containing the problem, which…we find to be a problem in and of itself."

Fury resisted the urge to scoff. "There are bigger things happening in the world that you could be—"

"And yet, here we are," another Council member said, glancing up over his glasses with a condescending air. "Clearly, she's a large enough problem that she's slipped through your agents' grasp twice now and our colleague felt it necessary to bring her to our attention. I hear she's different than expected."

"Yeah, she has more power than we knew about at first, but—"

"Therefore, she must be, oh, delicately put… Eliminated," Jenner said lightly as she jotted something down on one of her forms.

"Eliminated?" Coulson repeated, unable to keep out of the conversation now. "Why?"

"Ah, Agent Coulson. It's been a while," the third Council member said in recognition.

"Indeed it has, Dirk, but you all couldn't possibly mean…"

"But we do," Warren said shortly. "The girl is too much of a threat to be allowed to run amok and, clearly, simply containing her has proved too difficult for SHIELD, for you, to handle."

"She's just a kid!" Fury bellowed at the screen, shocked at the turn in events.

"And you're just a director," Jenner said silkily, flashing another fake smile. "You have your orders. Get it taken care of or we will take the matter into our own hands. Good day, Director Fury. Agent Coulson." And then the screen flickered back to the night sky.

Silence took over the room until Coulson asked with a frown, "And your orders, sir?"

Fury contemplated his options a moment before sighing and shaking his head. "We're not going to kill her, but we sure as hell have to crack down on efforts. We have a deadline now."

"Problem is, we don't even know what the specific 'deadline' is," Coulson pointed out with a stressed frown.

"We'll just have to work fast and hope it's fast enough."

The text message came while Cora was having her breakfast, hard-pressed not to throw up from how much she didn't want any more bagels. Despite that, she swallowed the bite she'd taken and dug her phone out of her pocket, her brow lifting as she peered down at the name; it was her uncle.

Bewilderment was soon replaced by dread, which iced over her insides just as she unlocked her screen and opened the message. It read, "Grandma's passed. Funeral at St. Mary's Church on Cog Street. Tomorrow 6pm."

Cora clenched her teeth a little, holding down the emotions that started bubbling up in a gradually growing intensity within her as she read the text again. And again. And again, just trying to absorb it. She lifted her gaze toward the high windows, where a vague patchwork of stars was visible in each pane. Grandma can't be gone. She's all I had left, Cora thought to herself, her eyes starting to burn a little.

She locked her phone again just before she heard the door swing lopsidedly open, clanking and skidding a corner against the floor. Loki reentered the warehouse, grimacing at the door before he looked at her, immediately asking in a wary tone, "Have I done something else?"

"What?" she asked and her voice sounded a little strained.

"You're upset," he noted bluntly.

"What makes you say that?"

Loki gave her a chiding glance as he stepped over, crouching down in front of her and lifting a hand toward her face. Angling a fingertip just under her eye, he pulled it away seconds later and showed her a telltale tear that had slipped through her control. Cora glared at it before looking up at him. "I need to go to California."

"We've been through this, you are not leaving this place until I find a better spot and move us there, myself."

"My grandmother just died," Cora argued, the desperation to be understood making her angry.

Loki paused and lifted a brow. "How do you know?"

"My uncle sent me a message just a few minutes ago. The funeral is tomorrow and I need to go."

"You're not going."

"How dare you!" she lashed out, her voice choking a little as she continued to hold it all in.

"Sentiment will get you caught. Might even get you killed," he said contemplatively.

"I don't care anymore, all right?" Cora snapped, causing Loki to sigh with frustration. "I—"

"I will not tell you again, woman," Loki murmured with forced calm, one of his hands resting against his jaw. "You. Will stay. Here."

Cora seemed to fish for something to say, but finally gave up, glaring vehemently and looking back down at her phone, ignoring him. Loki sighed and stood up, rubbing his eyes lightly.

When it was made clear that she was well and truly "pissed" at him by the scrunched face she made down at her phone, he gave up and sat back against the wall, exhaustion winning out and encouraging him to get some rest. He closed his eyes and was out in a few minutes' time. Now that he'd collected all the updated information on the Tesseract, he felt it acceptable that he take some time to sleep.

Cora paused in her mindless mashing of her touch screen, glancing up at Loki contemplatively before her eyes skimmed down to Mjolnir. Despite her present melancholy, a faint smirk curved her lips.

Not going, my ass.

It was inexplicable how his strange premonition of frustration seemed to catch him upon awakening, but as soon as he saw the empty pile of blankets against the opposite wall, he nearly snarled. "By the Nine, I—" He paused in getting up, figuring he'd immediately go after her before she got too far away; at least until he was immediately jerked backward by an impossible weight on his wrist.

His gaze flashed down to Mjolnir and he seethed, muttering as he tried to tug the multi-layered knot she'd wound the leader cord into, "How did she even manage this without waking me?!"

Loki had tugged three out of the seven knots free when there was a strange little lurch in the hammer's head. He paused, his brow knitting as he wondered whether or not he'd imagined it, which was all the time it took for the hammer to shiver again and then slowly rise up from the floor, the spoke angling toward the concrete wall he'd been sleeping against.

As he understood what was happening, Loki parted his lips to curse, only to have the breath knocked out of him when Mjolnir lurched and shot forward, smashing through the wall and dragging him right along with it. He had the sense to throw his seithr over his form, making himself invisible because he knew who would be watching. And it just wasn't time to reveal himself yet.

"There!" he murmured as he finally loosed the last few knots, the momentum he'd picked up from the hammer causing him to stumble and nearly face-plant into the dry sand. He looked up just in time to watch Mjolnir disappear into the atmosphere, his lips thinning as he gave a swift punch to the ground and went back into the warehouse.

Loki began mulling over all his options, trying to put together any sort of plan that would tell him where she'd gone off to. In retrospect, he should've gotten more information out of her in case she pulled something like this, but he hadn't thought she'd be so stupid. His eyes fell upon a black rectangle near where he'd been sitting, asleep, which he picked up and turned over. It was her phone, probably having fallen out of her pocket as she tied the hammer on his wrist and ran out.

He pressed the button at the center of the lower edge, watching the screen flicker to life and present him with a password-protected lock. Loki paused, thinking back to when he'd glanced over her shoulder during their little training session the other day. After two failed attempts, he remembered the numbers she'd hit and the screen unlocked, presenting him with a multitude of little colored squares.

"FaceTime… Calendar… Camera…," he read aloud, cursing as he accidentally set off the camera app. "Damn, how do I… Ah, right, got it!" Loki grinned and continued to look through the apps, moving past "Videos" to something called Safari. He arched his brow thoughtfully. Well, it is a compass…

He tried to use that and typed Cora's name into the Search bar, but the program clearly didn't know what it was doing, so he got out of it and went to the next, which was nicely labeled "Maps." He squinted slightly and murmured, "Search or address… Address, hrm… Messages," a little distractedly as he left the app momentarily and went to see if he could find her messages, remembering she'd mentioned getting one from her uncle. Considering he saw no letters in the area, he assumed it had come through her phone.

Once he found the message, he took note of the gathering place and went back to maps, typing it in a little uncertainly at first, his fingers becoming more nimble as he went. After more shuffling, Loki was victorious and a route was drawn on the screen. He memorized it and smirked triumphantly before muttering, "Nice try, Cora, I'll always find you." With that, he pressed the top button again, which did his will by locking the screen and he left the warehouse, disappearing within his magic once more.

Loki found it necessary to check the map a couple more times before he ended up where he needed to be, seeing familiar street names and landmarks that had been listed with the route. However, after everything, it took hours for him to get there.

When a sign that read, "Church of St. Mary," came into view along with a pronounced, cross-laden steeple, Loki knew he was on the right track, soon arriving at the street corner and spying a long black vehicle at the curb, a lot filled with cars nearby. The building was contained within a black wrought-iron fence and he was getting a bit nervous that she'd already been snatched up by SHIELD when he saw her leaning against the ebony spires in the shade, her fingers loosely wrapped around the peaks.

Frowning, he waited until he was under the cover of the tree as well before dropping the seithr clinging to his body, following her gaze toward the wide-open doors acting as the mouth of the church. "Satisfied?" he murmured as he got close enough for her to hear him.

"Shut up," she said quietly, her voice lacking in its usual fervor.

Loki smirked faintly before looking down at her; her eyes were red again and a little puffy. "You won't go inside? I thought the whole point of your rendezvous was going to the funeral."

"I'm fine just being out here," she replied, never taking her eyes off the casket past the doors and the minister speaking nearby, the bible he was quoting from spread open in his hand. "Without her, there's not really anyone in there for me."

He leaned against the fence beside her, watching the man inside make sweeping gestures and proclamations of life, health, joy, and the heavens while the audience inside alternated between weeping and smiling wetly. "Funerals are much different in Asgard," he admitted softly as he watched. "Then again, most things are much different in Asgard. By the way, here. You dropped this back at the warehouse."

Loki handed her back her phone and she glanced over for the first time, taking it and unlocking the screen to find the Maps app open and working. Her eyes widened a little and she turned her dark eyes up to his. "You used my phone to get here?"

"Yes, I saw you type your code in before. I wasn't trying to though," he said, waiting for her to get mad at him for "invading her privacy" or something.

"You're fine, I'm just impressed."

Loki was surprised at that and gave an awkward, "Oh." He never understood his reactions to praise from her. Though he never really understood the majority of his reactions to her in any sense.

He cleared his throat and glanced furtively at her only to note that she was back to looking at the church doors, her hands upon the fence bars, which allowed him to notice something when her jacket sleeve shifted upward… "What is that?"

Cora looked up at him before following his gaze to her right wrist, where one of her tattoos was peeking out. She angled her arm against the fence so her sleeve would continue to move upward, revealing four stick-figure symbols in bold black lines. "It's more of a sentimental thing, I think. This was something I doodled into a lot of my drawings as a kid and then I had a dream about it a few years back, so I got it tattooed on. I think at the time, I kind of connected it to my childhood and—why are you looking at me like that? What did I say?" He had a look of disbelief on his pearly features.

Loki reached forward and carefully snared her wrist in his slender fingers, turning it over to get a better look, unable to avoid wincing when he again noted yellowed bruising on her knuckles. "Nothing, it's… Well, it is your name."

"What do you mean?" Cora asked, looking down at the tattoo. She just saw scribbles.

"It is your name… But these are Asgardian runes," he murmured, skimming the pad of his thumb lightly over her inked skin, his brow creasing as he tried to understand how this was possible.

"I… But how can that be?" Cora asked, just as shocked and confused as he.

"I don't know, but we—"

"Hey, man, nice costume!" Both turned to look at a boy walking by, no older than seventeen. "You from an anime or something?"

"What are you talk—"

"Oh, Loki, your armor!" Cora finally noticed, looking at him and then wondering why no one had seemed to notice until she took in the high school boy's own attire: a tattered gray shirt, holed jeans, mussed hair, and painted blood splatters over his clothes and at his mouth, an off-shade of green smeared over his face. "Oh…," she realized quietly as another little monster ran by. "It's Halloween."

"Halloween?" he repeated, earning a laugh from the boy, who commented on how in-character Loki was before catching up with his friends.

"It's a holiday. Kids dress up in costumes and go around to get candy," Cora said quietly, glancing at the church as everyone inside began to stand up to go say their goodbyes.

Loki followed her gaze and asked measuredly, "…Do you want to go inside now?"

Cora pursed her lips and thought about that for a few seconds, soon shaking her head. "No… She's not in there anymore."

He watched her start to walk back down the street, her hands in her pockets and her gaze on the ground. Loki took one more look at the building of mourning before following her, attempting to come up with something to say. Despite it being a foolhardy fall of sentiment, she was still in pain.

Once he'd walked by her side for a few moments, children rushing up and down the street with parents or older siblings, he lifted his hand and pressed his fingertips against the inside of her wrist, drawing her hand from the pocket of her jeans. Before she could ask what he was doing, he slipped his hand into hers, holding it gently and then turning his gaze ahead again.

Cora's questions died on her lips as utter shock set in, her eyes dropping to their hands before she bit her lip and looked away, a flush rising to her face. Her fingers curled around his and she noticed how much colder his skin was than hers, despite the southern Californian heat. She decided it was kind of nice.

"Agent Barton to base," Clint murmured into his earpiece, watching their targets over the top of Coulson's head. "We've got ‘em."

Next chapter: Chapter 9, "Better"

#loki laufeyson #loki x fem!oc #loki x oc #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #thor odinson #thor movies #thor the dark world #avengers #marvel cinematic universe #angst with a happy ending #slow burn

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