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urobourosnull · 1 year

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Global DEFCON 1

[Chapter One]

METAL GEAR SOLID

INTEGRATION

Under the dark cover of night, an island compound sits at the edge of an infamous No-Man’s-Land. Concrete walls stand 10-feet high, acting as the solid guardians of the compound. Inside the walls, fencing with barbed wire at its peak line the perimeter. The inner workings of this compound consisting of armed soldiers pacing their routes, rifles at the ready. Multiple buildings of varying sizes occupy the island’s large center, stairwells and walkways garnish the structures. Trees sprouted at random locations, giving the island a strange mix of industry and wilderness.

A figure emerges from the depths of the island’s cliffside, just out of the perimeter of the solid grey barrier of concrete. The figure climbs on top of the rock face, then kneels down and puts his index finger to his ear.

“This is Snake,” the Figure says, “do you read me, Otacon?”

“Loud and clear, Snake,” his earpiece spouts in response.

“Kept you waiting, huh? This new stealth camo you gave me is really coming in handy,” Snake says while holding a little rectangular box in his hand. Something so small and yet so effective.

Otacon speaks up, “No issues with infiltration?”

“I can handle a bit of rock climbing,” Snake answers, “but getting out here without being seen would have been a hassle without the stealth camo,” he says while lightly tapping the rectangular box with his finger before putting it away.

“For a mysterious organization with shady dealings,” Otacon points out, “they sure make it obvious that they’re hiding something with all of the surveillance surrounding the area.”

“Let’s just hope that this isn’t Patriot funding.”

“Only half of the leads are pointing to that, the other half seem to indicate that it’s a committee or two of private investors.”

“A joint effort, huh?” Snake says while lighting a cigarette. Otacon knows they’re smokeless cigarettes, which he never knew about before Snake told him. At this point, they’ve done these missions so often that Otacon mostly ignores Snake’s smoking, at least for now.

“Appears to be,” Otacon continues, “Just be careful out there. We really have no idea what we’re getting involved with here.”

“I don’t plan on making too much noise. Remember, we’re just following a lead that we found after Ocelot sunk that tanker last year.”

“If that even really was Ocelot anymore.”

“I can’t say for sure at this point… I’m wearing the same sneaking suit now that I was wearing then…” Snake thinks back to a year ago. He had seen Ocelot kill the Marine Commandant Scott Dolph, and then kill his own partner, Colonel Sergei Gurlukovich. And then Ocelot’s own arm changed, the strain of it ripping apart Ocelot’s entire right sleeve of his coat. He said he had Liquid’s arm. Snake could hardly believe it when he heard it at the time, and while they haven’t found any other evidence of such information, the words still hang in Snake’s head. Liquid had said through Ocelot’s body that he lives on through that arm. After Frank Jaeger had cut off Ocelot’s arm as the cyborg ninja Grey Fox, Ocelot had gone over to Liquid’s body, having been assassinated by FoxDie, and took his arm with him. Now Liquid’s soul lives on inside of Ocelot because of that arm.

Snake even thought that it sounded crazy just thinking about it, but then he’d encountered much stranger in the past, and will most likely see even more in the future.

“Alright Snake,” Otacon snaps Snake out of it, “Let’s assess the situation. You just made it to an offshore island off the coast of North Carolina.”

“Any further out and I’d be stuck in the Devil’s Triangle.”

“We’re a bit northwest of Bermuda so there shouldn’t be too much to worry about, especially since it’s mostly an urban legend.”

“Mostly.”

“Your primary weapon is your suppressed H&K SOCOM. We aren’t sure what’s going on here so we need you to have some form of protection, but you’ll need to manually save your bullet casings if it comes to a firefight. We can’t let anyone know that we’re involved.”

“It feels strange to actually bring a real weapon with me. I’m used to OSP, so this is a nice treat.”

“On-Site Procurement is usually helpful when we know what we’re dealing with and don’t want to cause a political stir. Right here, anything could happen.”

“Eh, it’s difficult to have a political jurisdiction over a mysterious location with so many unconfirmed disappearances.”

“Still, this lead could get us somewhere. We need to find out where Ocelot went and where his support is coming from, starting with Igor Barkov.”

“You don’t think he’s still using Gurlukovich’s mercenaries?”

“We won’t know until we have your boots on the ground.”

“Your mission is to infiltrate the island and find any clues in connection with Ocelot or any of his affiliates. We know one of his biggest financial supporters, Igor Barkov, will be there. Since we have no idea what else is out here, we should probably play it safe and try to avoid any confrontation, since we don’t know exactly how high this goes.”

“That’s why you had me bring my forty-five?”

“The M9 tranquilizer gun is a difficult weapon to manufacture, because you have to convert the Beretta M92F to fire tranquilizer rounds, otherwise the thing will essentially fire blanks because the default mechanism would just crush the anesthetic. Speaking of which, after the tanker incident last year, some of our supporters lost some faith in us and we’ve lost quite a bit of funding since then. I can’t blame you for losing the M9 when the tanker sunk, but we don’t have an available model on hand anymore. In fact, I was going to give you a nine-millimeter instead of your forty-five, but we already had that, so there wasn’t really a need to procure a whole new weapon when we already have one that fulfills the required role.”

“Let’s just hope things don’t get to that point. I’ll take care of it on my end. You find out anything you can about this island.”

“We’re already looking into it, but the remaining satellites we have don’t reach there, and none of our partner satellites want to contribute due to the lack of funding and goodwill. We’re basically doing this mission two-fold. One, to find any further leads or clues to finding and stopping Ocelot, and two, to get Philanthropy back in the good graces of the UN.”

“Not that we were exactly friends with them to begin with. Remember, we’re at arm’s length with them, a potential liability, and any new screw-ups only make things harder. It’s only a matter of time before we’re cut entirely and put on a terrorist watchlist in even more places if things continue to go belly-up.”

“All we can do is hope that things like that don’t happen. We have a lot more work we need to do before we can get back to taking down more Metal Gears like we did after Shadow Moses.”

“And stopping Ocelot.”

“Go ahead and overlook the area, tell me what you see.”

Snake grabbed his scope and began to visually sweep the area, focusing on the enemy personnel and their equipment, “I see… AK-47s—no… Type 56s? Chinese soldiers?”

“What is the People’s Liberation Army doing here?!” The shock in Otacon’s voice clear as day.

“They don’t look like the CPLA,” Snake replied, further noticing their fatigues and gear, “I think it’s a Chinese private force of some kind.”

“A mercenary group might be a sign that we’re on the right track. Watch out, Snake. With no legal jurisdiction, these guys can do whatever they want. You especially don’t want to get captured.”

“Yeah, I don’t need to carry a sword on my back. Type 59 grenades. Type 82 sub machineguns. Whoever these guys are, they seem to have a preference for Chinese versions of Russian equipment.”

“Do you think they’re trying to pretend to be Russians?”

“Why pretend with the gear but then man the routes with Chinese guards? This doesn’t make any sense.”

“Snake, this is getting a bit creepy…”

“Yeah, I’ll have to keep my head down for sure.”

As the call finishes, Snake stands up and pulls the handgun out of his holster. He presses down on the mag release paddle to inspect his ammo, reinserts it, pulls lightly on the slide to check the chambered round, and gently lets it go back into battery, expertly readying the handgun in both hands. “Good to go.” Even with everything that he and Philanthropy are having to deal with, just being out in the field is another day at the office for Snake.

Peeking around corners, he mentally maps out the routes and patterns of all the guards, slipping past the gaps in security. He’s done this a thousand times, it’s second nature to him.

“Snake?”

“Yeah?”

“You said these guys like to use the Chinese versions of Russian equipment. What did you mean by that?”

“Countries tend to copy each other’s work, and sometimes they even make their own guns in a way that is meant to be exact copies of other guns. The Chinese Type 56 rifle is a copy of the Russian AK-47. The Type 59 grenades are a copy of the RGD-5 grenades. The Type 82 is a copy of the PM-63.”

“Does that mean they’re trying to match their opponents as equals?”

“Not usually. There’s a lot more to guns than just design, the materials that are used for them is also important. For the most part, it’s usually done as a cheap alternative to the real thing.”

“Does that mean lower quality too?”

“Usually.”

“Why would someone risk using the cheaper version of another rifle? Why not just get another rifle that is cheaper but still reliable?”

“That depends on what they’re using the rifle for. If they wanted a throwaway rifle they didn’t have to care much about, they’d go with a cheaper copy instead of the real thing to save on the loss of just trashing it afterwards.”

“Do they even take the same ammo?”

“Yup.”

“Seems like a lot of trouble to copy a gun into something that’s functionally identical, only to go for the one that’s not as good.”

“It could be preparation for an invasion, or maybe something else is going on.”

“Preparation for an invasion?”

“It would make sense to either use your own weapons that can take the enemy’s ammo, or to make your own gun that’s just a copy of your enemy’s gun entirely. Maybe they even know that their version is worse, so they swap them out when they find the real deal, inevitably giving their opponents the finger in combat.”

“That reminds me of the Liberator situation.”

“Eh, I can understand that, but this is different. The Liberator was designed to be immediately replaced upon being used. These guns are built to last a bit longer than that.”

“Even with your gun replacement tactic?”

“That’s just a theory. It could easily be something else entirely.”

“Aren’t there American weapons that use that same ammo? We’re just outside the map of the United States after all.”

“Earlier this decade, there was a model of the American M4 rifle that was designed to use the seven-point-six-two Soviet round, and they’ve been mass produced to a reasonably successful amount since then, so yeah. However, they tend to be more expensive, and I get the feeling that our hosts here are seemingly on a tight budget.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t see any vehicles around here besides their transport boats. They don’t even have watch dogs out here. Everything is so barren, it looks like they can barely afford to keep the lights on. The fact that such a major financial player like Barkov is here and this is what they have to show for it, something is definitely wrong here.”

Otacon, growing concerned about what this could mean, lets out a worried mix of a sigh and a whimper.

Snake continues, “There doesn’t seem to be much going and yet the risk is still too high. We need to locate Barkov and find out what’s going on.”

“Agreed. Stay safe, Snake.”

“Got it.”

Sneaking past some of the buildings, something catches Snake’s eye. A large Russian man, calmly walking from one building to another. Snake sinks himself further into the shadows. “Otacon,” Snake reports in, “I have a positive ID.”

“Barkov?” Otacon questions.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t be that surprised if he pulled out a Norinco.”

“Why would they put a Russian in charge of Chinese soldiers with fake-Russian equipment?”

“Beats me, but I’m not really sure I want to find out.”

“Barkov should have a record of communication of some sort, somewhere in his private quarters. See if you can find some kind of office or comms building on the island.

“Okay, I’ll see if I can find anything and keep you posted.”

“I’ll start confirming the ID with the Philanthropy network and get back to you.”

“Alright.”

As Snake makes his way through the compound, past the central square of the island, he sits in the shadows behind two of the Chinese guards, angrily talking to each other.

“We need better equipment than this!” One of them complains, “How am I supposed to deal with threats when this shit jams on us so much?!”

“I would shoot that damn Russian if I could,” the other chimes in, “But it probably wouldn’t even fire!”

“Hey, there he is! Hey, Ivan! When are we gonna get some good shit?”

As Snake looks over, he sees Igor Barkov again. A giant Russian man staring down at the two Chinese guards from a walkway. Snake notices the annoyed yet confused look on his face. As the Chinese guards continue complaining, the confusion on Igor slowly changes into rage. “I am Igor Barkov,” he says in Russian, piercing the language barrier of them cursing at him in their Cantonese or Mandarin tongue. He doesn’t care, they still got his name wrong. “Not Ivan.” He pulls out a handgun and aims it at one of them. “You keep your filthy tongues off of my great Russian name, you disgusting dogs!”

Two gunshots ring out as both guards drop dead. Igor examines his work now playfully holding his handgun in one hand, taking in the killing. Basking in it. The satisfaction grows in him until he starts to laugh, beginning to bellow out until it’s coming from his gut. Barkov then continues his gait, laughing unimpeded. Barkov’s cackles only dying away by distance the further he walks until Snake doesn’t hear his menacing death chuckles anymore.

“We’ve gotta get our noses out of the cold, Otacon.”

“You found something too?”

“Just had a run-in with Barkov. The Russian nationalist.”

“Apparently not everyone knows that about him.”

“Got that right. I just saw him plug two of the Chinese personnel.”

“He did what?!”

“Using a Russian Makarov . Authentic model.”

“What’s going on here?!”

“They were complaining about their equipment, and Barkov just shot them both. Saying something like, ‘say my name right, you filthy dogs.’”

“Seems like this king of such a weird little castle is a loose cannon.”

“He’s more like a kid on an anthill. I need to find out where his comms records may be.”

“Do you see anything that could help you?”

“There’s a few more buildings nearby, I’ll just have to check all of them out.”

Exploring the pathways around the buildings, Snake notices that one of the few buildings he hasn’t checked yet is one that Barkov went into. He starts to think of ways he can work around Barkov if the Russian nationalist were to start heading his way.

While Snake is planning his course of action, he hears a door bang open.

“SAY MY NAME!!” Screams Barkov. Snake immediately ducks into cover and peeks around the corner to keep an eye on him. Barkov is staggering around with a bottle in his hand, taking random swigs from it and screaming random yells and sounds. “I am Igor… motherfucking Barkov. You rats will listen to ME! DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

As Barkov shuffles around the walkway, Snake utilizes the cover of the night to move around Barkov. As the Russian almost falls over himself a few times, he once again leaves Snake’s earshot, Snake watching Barkov until he walks out of view entirely.

Snake looks towards the door, and cautiously turns the door knob, equipping his handgun, and aiming it through the crack of the door as he opens it. Looking to the floor and ceiling for a quick check, he sees no immediate danger. Still thinking someone could be inside, he lightly pushes the door open, checks his nearest corner with his gun raised, then slowly sweeps the room as he opens the door. Having cleared the room of any threats, he sees that the room is a study with a computer.

“Otacon, I found some intel.”

“What is it?”

“Comm logs between Barkov and a cut-out, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out to be another ruse.”

“You think Ocelot is going to do the same thing he did to Gurlukovich?”

“You can never tell what Ocelot’s plans are, so I wouldn’t put it past him. When he was torturing me at Shadow Moses, he said he wanted Russia to be reborn, but then he shoots Gurlukovich himself, Gurlukovich’s men, and takes over RAY on the USS Discovery. Gurlukovich wanted Russia’s revival, he told Marine Commandant Scott Dolph that, “Russia will rise again, and RAY is the key,” but Ocelot wasn’t having it, saying it’s being “returned to the Patriots.” As far as I know, Barkov is in the same place as Gurlukovich for Ocelot. There’s something else going on here.”

Otacon breathes out a worried sigh, “Stay on your feet, Snake. Remember that this is completely uncharted territory.”

“We’ve been through worse, don’t worry.”

* * *

Barkov shuffles across the metal walkway of the building structures and catches the attention of a scrawny man nearby. They’re both Russian and speak their mother tongue to each other.

“You, boy,” Barkov blurts out, the boy snaps at attention. “You do as I say, yes?”

The boy stammers, “Y-yes sir. I was assigned as your servant here.”

Barkov laughs in the boy’s face, “So if I say to suck my dick… you’ll do it, yes?” Barkov cackles harder in the boy’s face, the smell of vodka piercing the boy’s nose. “You’re only 14 and you have to do as I say, eh?” Barkov continues laughing.

“I’m 18, sir,” the boy corrects him, “and no, I wouldn’t do that. I maintain decency.”

“Decency?!” Barkov’s laughs cut short. “What the fuck do we know about decency?! Look at us, we’re practically baby sitting these fucking noodle-eyes! We’re better than that. We’re Russians. We have decency. They do not.”

The silence is drawn out for a second before Barkov takes another swig of vodka, then he tells the boy without looking at him, “Comrade, what’s the patrols looking like right now?”

“Uhh, we have the perimeter covered by about 12 men and everyone else is patrolling around the main parts of the island.”

Thinking on this, Barkov says, “Bring everyone to the center square. I want to give a speech.”

The boy, feeling confused, asks, “What do you mean everyone?”

Barkov throws his bottle to the metal walkway, shattering it, before angrily staring down the boy as he shouts a full-throated, “EVERYONE!!”

The boy runs off to gather all the Chinese guards for the speech. Barkov spits on the floor while staring down the leaving boy, “Piece of fucking shit.”

* * *

“Snake,” Otacon addresses, “Those messages coming from a cut-out will slow us down, but we’ll need to find out who sent them and where they’re located. Maybe they will lead us to Ocelot.”

“We’re really grasping at straws here,” Snake complains.

“This really feels bottom-of-the-barrel, doesn’t it? We have to keep going.”

“I wasn’t planning on quitting.”

“For now, we have about everything we can get from here. You can either interrogate Barkov, or just exfil, we have a chopper we can use if you need an emergency exit in a hurry.”

“I’ll make my way back to my rendezvous point.” As Snake says this, he sees a different Russian jogging around outside through one of the windows of the study. Snake immediately ducks down with his gun at the ready and moves to the window to investigate the movements. He sees the younger Russian shouting at the Chinese guards. “CENTER SQUARE! NOW!” He shouts in Cantonese and then repeating himself in Mandarin, and back again across the island to any and all Chinese guards that he sees.

“Otacon,” Snake reports, “They’re rounding up the guards to the central square.”

“They probably found the two dead soldiers that Barkov shot.”

“Something tells me that the leader killing them isn’t the problem right now.”

Barkov is suddenly heard shouting and slurring from the central square, “Witness my grand master plan coming to fruition before your very eyes!” Snake begins moving towards the square, towards his exfil location, using the massive distraction as the perfect cover.

Barkov continues, “I am the great Igor Barkov, and you will know true fear when Russia becomes your new motherland! You filthy pigs will bend to my feet, begging me for grace and forgiveness, and you will get nothing! You deserve nothing! You ARE nothing! My friends in high places speak to my great status and value as a true Soviet! I belong at the top of the ladder, and the Committee is a testament to that! They all agree, my money is beyond priceless! My wealth and great fortune are to be praised in glory! They say you can’t buy happiness, but I will buy out everything until all is Russian! Russia above everything! Russia IS everything! Bend your knees to my feet and celebrate Russia!” Barkov laughs before ending his tirade, “And it starts right here!”

Barkov pulls out his radio and slurs into it, “Begin.”

“Snake!” Otacon shouts into the Codec with a panic, “One of our nearby satellites has picked up a missile launch! Get out of there, now!”

“Damn!” Snake barks out and starts sprinting to the extraction point. Barkov begins laughing hysterically at the chaos that he’s ensued. While laughing, he looks over at a part of the cliffside behind him. Expecting to see something there but seeing nothing, he begins to panic and starts screaming, “WHERE IS MY CHOPPER?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?! YOU HAVE KILLED MY GREATNESS!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!?! OCELOT!!”

The rocket hits Barkov directly, eviscerating him. The explosion spreads a thick but slow green cloud. The explosion catches Snake’s attention and he notices the strange gas and puts on a gas mask. The first soldier touched with the gas begins to burn, screaming intensely. Some of the other men fall to the ground immediately and begin convulsing. Some are having seizures, others are staying dead.

Then Snake notices that one of the soldiers that died, is getting back up again in a steady pace. His burning jaw hanging wide open, looking around with wide eyes.

“What the hell…?” Snake says silently to himself. Suddenly, one of the soldiers notices him and growls. The rest look at Snake and begin shambling toward him.

“Otacon!” Snake shouts.

“What’s going on?!”

“These men! The missile released some kind of toxin and now the soldiers are lumbering around. They look actively braindead.”

“What the hell?!”

Snake shoots some of them but they get back up, seemingly unaffected. Only shots to the head keep them down. Some of them are crawling towards Snake.

“What the hell is happening here?!”

“We’re almost there, Snake! The KA-62 is close by!”

Snake shoots a few more in their heads before continuing to run towards the extraction point.

“Where are you, Otacon?!” As Snake says this, a helicopter breaches the horizon of the cliffside, rising in elevation above the island ground, the rising Sun shining a brilliant backdrop. The chopper turns sideways to reveal Otacon with a headset on, waving at Snake, “Right here!” Snake glances behind himself one last time, witnessing the horde chasing him down, and looks back at the chopper while still in a full sprint. Otacon lowers a rope ladder as the KA-62 continues gaining altitude to make room for the ladder. Snake will have to jump.

“Come on, Snake!” Snake is going full speed, nearing the edge of the cliff. The moment of truth, a leap of faith, a jump towards survival. As his feet leave the ground in his haul, he reaches both of his arms out towards the rope ladder. A graceful terror floods his body in the suspension of the air.

Rope! Snake’s hands grab onto the rope ladder and he clings to it with a death grip. His momentum swings the rope ladder further out towards the ocean, until it starts to swing back towards the island, the undead now fumbling towards Snake until they fall off the island’s cliffside.

“Go back! Go back!” Snake worriedly tells Otacon and the pilot. The chopper first horizontally moves away from the island but the momentum gets Snake closer to the island, mere inches away from the falling corpses, before he swings back and the chopper heads northwest, towards the US. Snake breathes a sigh of relief and climbs his way up the rope ladder until he gets to the chopper.

“Snake!” Otacon extends a hand, “You’re alive!”

Snake takes Otacon’s hand and stands up next to him before looking back at the island and taking off his gas mask. “What the hell just happened?” Both of them stare at the island from inside the bird, the words hanging in the air as the propeller’s carry them over the waters.

“Snake,” Otacon breaks the verbal silence, “When I told you about the missile, the satellite picked up the launch location… it came from RAY.”

Snake looks back at Otacon without saying anything, then back at the island, now slowly disappearing in the distance with its thick fog dissipating at a crawl’s pace, “… Looks like we’re getting closer…”

#fanfic #metal gear solid #crossover #resident evil

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hamachi11 · 3 months

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Body Modification on Visual Social Media

Whenever you go on to social media platforms, especially Instagram, you will definitely came across multiple micro-celebrities that has like beautiful faces, slim bodies, masculine, nicer skin tones...well you get the idea. In this week's topic, we will be covering the basics of body modification in the context of social media as well as impact of audience's wellbeing.

Body Modification

In short, body modification is where a person intentionally alter it's human anatomy or physical appearance (Hawkes 2024). This process includes piercings, tattooing, cutting, binding or even inserting implants (Hawkes 2024).

The idea of body modification has actually been trending in recent years, which can be attributed to influences from micro-celebrities who advertises their transformations to their millions of followers to follow suite to show the ideal body image of a human being.

Take James Charles as an example.

James Charles is an American influencer known for his beauty makeups as shown in the pictures above. These influencers creates an online identity that resembles the ideal beauty of a human being in order to gain an online status through social media platforms such as Instagram.

Furthermore, most influencers, including James Charles himself, adheres to the aesthetic templates that are endorsed by microcelebrities through product campaigns.

What are these aesthetic templates you may ask?

Well aesthetic templates in the microcelebrity culture covers the research of an individual's poses and body work, ranging from behaviours that changes a person's physical appearance, which can be achieved through online image editing or physically through body modification.

Here is an example of how aesthetic templates would look like:

(Jenner 2024)

The Consequences of Body Modification in Social Media

Unfortunately, online aesthetic templates from influencers does have a significant impact on those who are dissatisfied with their physical body image. Sure, the visibility of body modification on social media can contribute to a more diverse representation of bodies, helping audiences to be confident and embrace their body. But it doesn't excuse the fact that some audiences will always be dissonance with their body image thus seeking cosmetics to "beautify" or even modify their body to seek an ideal version of themselves.

youtube

(n3rmin 2023)

This sort of unrealistic beauty standards can be traced from the curated nature of social media, where influencers often post masculine and feminine ideal of body image. These body images are often unattainable even with body modifications. Such constant exposure would contribute to an individual's hatred and dissatisfaction to their body image, particularly among young people.

Speaking of which, this unrealistic beauty standards can also be explained through a form of mental disorder known as Body Dysmorphic Disorder, or BDD for short.

To summarize, Body Dysmorphic Disorder is a mental illness of which an individual constant worrying over a perceived or slight defect in appearance (Better Health 2024).

To be clear, an individual who suffers from Body Dysmorphic Disorder doesn't have a dissatisfaction of their body size, like their body height. But rather, they believe part of their physical attributes has a serious defect.

For example,

Why can't I have a muscular body?

Why can't I have a slim body?

Why can't I have a whiter skin compare to others?

Why can't I have a perfect nose?

The constant focus on their "flaws" causes severe emotional distress, it can be so extreme that they would have trouble functioning at work, school or in social situations (Better Health 2024). In an attempt to fix this, the affected person would apply makeups or has an excessive exercise. Though these actions are just short-term relief and would eventually worsen their anxiety.

What can we do about it?

Well for starters, social media platforms plays a significant role in combating unrealistic beauty standards among audiences similarly to influencers advertising their "ideal body". This can be done by promoting contents, like influencers sharing their actual body image and hashtag campaigns, that embraces body positivity and challenges the beauty ideals. In doing so, social media users are encouraged to accept and love themselves.

Another way we can combat such unrealistic beauty standards is by offering an explanation of dissatisfaction with cultural perspective. For example, in western societies, they often emphasize on thinness, while in eastern societies, they often emphasize on lighter skin or specific body proportions.

Last but not least, equipping social media users, especially teenagers, with media literacy skills will allow them to easily evaluate the images they see on social media. Highlighting that most of the social media posts they see are usually manipulated through online software such as face filters to construct portrayals of beauty.

Conclusion

In conclusion, body modification on visual social media can have a impact on audiences, especially teenagers, viewing their body images negatively. As such, venturing on unrealistic beauty standards to crave their desires to find their "ideal body image". Solutions such as media literacy, promoting contents that promotes body positivity and offering an explanation based on cultural perspective should be utilized in retaliation to the idea of unrealistic beauty standards.

What are your thoughts about body modification on visual social media?

Be sure to let me know by dropping your comments down below!

As always, stay safe and see you in my next blog!

References

Better Health 2024, 'Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD)', Better Health Channel, viewed 17 June 2024, <https://www.betterhealth.vic.gov.au/health/conditionsandtreatments/body-dysmorphic-disorder-bdd>

Hawkes, J 2024, 'Defining Body Modification', University of Oregon, viewed 17 June 2024, <https://blogs.uoregon.edu/jhawkesw14/>

Jenner, K 2024, '@sam_edelman #ad', Instagram, viewed 17 June 2024, <https://www.instagram.com/p/C4qg_mbpU3x/?img_index=1>

n3rmin 2023, 'unrealisitic beauty standards', YouTube, viewed 17 June 2024, <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QHx7ZPzNkkY>

#mda20009

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ledgend-origin-mew · 4 months

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Who is smallest and biggest character in your story? And how strong they are compared to thier size?

Lucky for you, I DO have a hight chart that I made not that long ago to try and keep track of who's what, and I'm more than happy to go down the list with you!

The smallest Mon we have is little Jasper, the shadow shiny mew. He stands at a small 1`2", he isn't able to grow any bigger due to the synergy stones all over him. He's fairly weak compared to the average mew, but the stones do help enhance his power levels in a pinch if absolutely necessary.

Above that there's Keith the shiny Eevee at 1`3", in the manga Red is seen to have an Eevee that can evolve and devolve at will as a rescues rocket experiment. I like to think that wasn't the only evolution experiment they were doing.

Base at 2`6", she's one of the first Mew's to mewtate from Origins fur, later traveling with Celebi to a distant future to have her itty baby Jasper.

Mint at 3`11", he's feral for a Eeveelution, found eating the ramains in the back bin of the rocket headquarters. He was adopted by the Rocket members and became head lab assistant since then, as his more feral behaviour is beneficial for their goals.

Desmond at 5`3", the champion's Gallade. He spends his days and nights training in the woods and his scars were actually caused by Fernandes.

Edward at 5`8", Deoxys are extremely social creatures and when it comes to shines, they are leaders of thoes packs. Edward was the leader of a whole colony of Deoxys before they got too close to the earth and was attacked by not only mega Rayquaza, but also Origin herself. Edward can't fight like he used to and is physically frail because of his damage, and if he goes above his limit his body is forcibally retreat back inside his core for safety.

Urain Mewtwo at 6`2", after the events of the comic I won't spoil, a large chunck of Urain's hight was lost in the modifications process at team plazma, as team rocket needed help with resource management. Plazma, the shiny Genesect, is the reason Urain was able to get free.

Fernandes at 6`3", you do not want to be in the same room with this H!Zoroark, he attacks first and asks questions later. He was forced to learn how to speak English as well as standing up straight like a human. His power lies in his perfect illusions.

Mino between 7`-9`, Mino, or Missingno, is a conglomeration of fossil pokemon bones, a dragonite skull, and the legs of a stone Aerodactyl, simply because he wanted working feet to grab at things. Mino cares deeply for the earth and his mate, however they are also rather aggressive when it comes to strangers. Mino does travel with a human from time to time to learn how they tick.

Urain Origin mew at 7`4", as an Origin mew, Urain isn't as tall as her mother as they were born under the pressure of the earth and within an atmosphere. She, herself, will go on to create a few legendary across the earth before the incident, that lead to the becoming a Mewtwo.

Rosemary scolipede at 9`2", Rosemary is able to adjust her size if needed, taking the form of a simple scolipede if she ever needs to travel down her volcano to deal with something. This is her most versatile and athletic form, more speedy the powerful.

Origin at 10`3", as Giratina's twin, she's not that big in comparison, but she's still a god. The pokemon of matter, in fact. Origin is incredibly powerful thanks to her versatility with the ability multybility, that allows her to change her ability to something better suited for the situation... Like Primal Seas.

True size Rosemary at 82`11 to max of 400`, her true size sinks rather deep into the volcano she lives in, and this true size of hers will constantly produce the poison from holes in her body that resemble the female symble glitch patten.

Demo at ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿, biblically accurate angels don't often have a observable size. Decamark, being what was left behind from the hatching of Gaia's egg, they are the true creator of the universe.

Excluding true Rosemary and Demo, here is everyone's highs lined up

In general, Rosemary's true hight is the biggest but not the strongest, while Origin would physically be the strongest.

#pokemon #origins #ori #base #rosemary #Desmond #Fernandes #Keith #Mint #Urain #Mino #Edward #anonymous #You have no idea how much fun it was to ramble #Thank you so much for allowing me to share this

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burning-fcols · 1 year

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"Hey there baby name's chaz. If you don't mind me saying you're a pretty little number. Mind if I buy you a drink?" (chaz @ moxxie in a female disguise) - ✩ 「 @helluvaxhazbin 」 ✩

「 ☆ 」 Stiffening when he hears a name he had hoped to NEVER hear again, Moxxie's false nails scratch the bar counter with a surprised hitch of breath. Go figure that he'd manage to run into Chaz during one of the rare times he decides to hit up a bar. As if THAT turn of events wasn't interesting enough, it had to be the one time Moxxie was dolled up... differently than usual. Far too exhausted after a terrible time on the job, he hadn't the energy to change before hitting the closest place to get a drink. Figuring that he'd down a few to take the edge off before heading home.

Apparently, that's going to be a more stressful endeavor than anticipated.

Or is it?

❝ Wha— What? ❞ He replies without thinking, turning to confusingly study the shark. He knows that his disguise is GOOD— he'd spent hours working on it —but surely it couldn't fool someone who had dated him. Then again, Chaz never has been the smartest person in the room. ANY room. Unsure whether he should be insulted by Chaz's ignorance or proud of his disguise's success, Moxxie nearly tells Chaz to fuck off. He doesn't have enough patience to deal with him... But before Moxxie can utter a word, the true value of this situation abruptly strikes him.

Chaz, prone as ever to poor decisions, seems to have taken a liking to him. Ironic and infuriating as that is. Moxxie would love to break some unearned confidence, but Chaz seems immune to disinterested people. Ignoring statements that should send him running with his tail between his legs and obnoxiously pressing on, or merely moving to the next to catch his eye. The uncomfortable situation at Crimson's made that more than clear. So rather than try for the impossible, he decides to go for the next best thing: snagging free drinks while throwing snide comments.

Slowly a smile slips across glossy lips, dripping as much condescension as his tone, ❝ Oh, honey... ❞ He drawls, donning his faux accent as sharp nails patronizingly point at the shark. Gaze flits up and down Chaz's form while he speaks, as if sizing the other up and finding himself NOT impressed, ❝ You don't even look like you could buy a drink for yourself... Just look at you, in your cheap little suit~ ❞ Cooing out the insult as if it's a compliment, he utters a sharp laugh, ❝ I can't tell if it's cute or pathetic. ❞

Turning to face the bar, he drums his nails across it and shrugs, ❝ But sure, why not? I could use a drink... but if you really wanna impress me— ❞ Glancing over his shoulder at Chaz, he teasingly peers through a half-lidded gaze, ❝ —you'll buy me two. ❞ 「 ☆ 」

#burning-fcols #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ʀᴇꜱᴇᴀʀᴄʜᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴʀʏ ᴇxᴛᴇɴꜱɪᴠᴇʟʏ ᴀɴᴅ— ❞ ¦ 「 Moxxie IC 」#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʙᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴀᴛ ꜱᴘᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴍɪɴᴅ ❞ ◌ ᴍᴀɪɴ ¦ 「 Moxxie 」#helluvaxhazbin #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɢᴏᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴛɪᴄᴋᴇᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴜʀᴇ ʟᴀɴᴅ ❞ ¦ 「 Chaz 」#♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛɪᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴅᴏᴡɴ; ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴍʏ ꜱɪᴅᴇ— ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ʙᴇ ᴀ ᴡᴀꜱᴛᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Moxxie and Chaz 」#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ? ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

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husbandohunter · 3 years

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A Small Predicament [Baby Genshin x Reader]

Characters: Scaramouche, Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Xiao, Zhongli, Albedo

Synopsis: Cursed for a week, the boys either have to live with it or find a cure as soon as possible. You on the otherhand hoped otherwise.

(A/n): It only takes ONE glance for me to start having ideas. It was twelve in the morning yall, enjoy~

Oh here's part 2

--------

Scaramouche

• "Oh you shrank? I couldn't tell-"

• Threatens that he will murder you to pieces and burn your remains but his voice was so squeaky and high pitched (voice crack) that you couldn't help but burst into a tearful laughter.

• Its payback time Bully him, take his hat and hover it above his head. Truthfully, without his hat Scaramouche looks like a little schoolboy. Overall less intimidating.

• Tries glaring. Cute. He's really bratty as a kid, sitting on a high chair (which you had to help him get on) and demanding his servants to do his bidding. In reality, his personality never changed. You realized that even as a grown up he still acts like this (bratty kid in a grown man body).

• The curse made his week a living hell. Signora had the audacity to pull his ear when he misbehaves. Childe constantly messes with his hair while giving head pats and the WORST of all, pinching his cheeks. Scaramouche never wanted to commit arson so bad in his life.

• Eventually finds a cure so he doesn't have to deal with it anymore and orders everyone to never speak of it again. Though, he's plotting how he'll get revenge on everyone who made fun of him using the very same curse (You better run).

~~x~~

Diluc

• "Oh…Oh my! Diluc you're just so cute!"

• Diluc grimaces as you glomp him in this state. How can you help it? With his head so small it makes his hair all the more fluffier! His coat no longer fits him to the point the sleeves had made past his fingertips. He tried wielding his claymore again, only to lose balance and fall flat onto his bum

• (insert kid voice "Retribution!") Did I mention the babyface?

• Diluc tries to act as if everything was normal, acting like the Darknight hero and Mondstadt's Tycoon but fun-sized. He couldn't. There was no way people would take him seriously in business meetings. Same with fighting abyss mages, his smaller form was too much of a disadvantage. Thus you ended up doing most of his paperwork.

• One time you caught him sitting on the floor couldn't reach his office desk while reading away the various books for a cure. It was three in the morning. You told him it was way past his bedtime and he argues saying when did he ever have a curfew schedule. In the end you managed to convince him and he begrudgingly obliges.

• The type to NOT ask for help even when it's obvious that he really needs it. Before he was the one who helped you reach things from the top shelves, oh how the tables have turned. He avoids Kaeya like a plague unless he was in it for another round of funny remarks. When he wanted to go out and get some fresh air, you insisted on accompanying him. Worst mistake in his life. A travelling merchant bumps into you and commented that you had a very cute son. Diluc was mortified.

• The day ended up with him sulking in his room. Although it was tempting, you resisted from cooing over his adorable form after days of treating him like a child. It wasn't because you were teasing him, Diluc just works so hard that you wanted to spoil him a bit. At least he could still play a game of chess with you.

• When things went back to normal, Diluc ensures that you will NOT see him as your son.

~~x~~

Kaeya

• "Well look who it is, my little Prince Kaeya~"

• Tries really hard not be bothered by it at all. Kaeya still maintains his suave facade, throwing in a couple of flirting lines here and there (and forcing his voice to go a few octaves too low in which puberty has yet to occur HA). Though no matter what approach, he couldn't ignore the sparkling mischievious glint in your eye. You were obviously not taking him seriously.

• Things couldn't get any worse. He lost his masculine physique and boob window, he wasn't able to go to certain places without supervision. But the worst thing of all was that he was underaged. Kaeya hated the fact he couldn't drink anymore, he even insisted you to sneak him a few bottles (which you refused) and had to settle with plain beverages such as fruit juice (what an insult). He was never really grounded since his childhood days but he certainly felt like he was grounded now.

• Kaeya still kisses you on the lips whether you like it or not. If you ask him to sit on your lap, he will find a way to turn the position into his favour such as resting his face between your breasts. You're not gonna treat him like a kid, nuh-uh, he actively avoids it.

• Since his personality still remains, Kaeya is a naughty child. He will use his innocent appearance to sway people (even you) to get what he wants. That was how he was able to take a sip of the wine he stole somewhere (he wouldn't tell you). Diluc scolded him heavily and threatened to ban him from drinking from his Tavern for a week (they ended up arguing, Kaeya being the passive aggressive little shit he is).

• He was extremely relieved to return back to his normal form again. He has so much to catch up (specifically his bedtime activities with you *wink wonk*)

~~x~~

Child(e)

• "Hmmm to be honest, this actually suits you very much."

• Unlike the other boys, Childe was completely okay with it. Turns out that YOU were the one who was not going to be okay. If you thought taking care of Teucer was energy-draining then expect Childe to take that tenfold and beyond.

• You've officially became his full-time babysitter who is in desperate need of a raise (and rest). You can't take your eyes off of him and archons forbid that he will ever meet Klee. One point he'll be running ahead by your side and the next you'll find him getting himself in a 1vs7 situation with some shady looking treasure hoarders. Childe genuinely thinks he could take them on but the curse downgraded his abilities. You carried him and barely made out of it alive. (This made you ponder whether the best solution would be to strap him against a chair for the time being…)

• Childe being a child will eat all the candies and ice cream he pleases. You wonder if the curse also turned him a few years back or was it that he acts like this simply because he wanted to (it was the latter). He loves being spoiled, spoiled by you! Childe demands your full attention, spoon-feeding his meals, back rubs and head pats. Yep, he's definitely doing this on purpose.

• Did he just call you 'mommy'? (Childe has mommy kink confirmed). He has so much energy that it was exhausting, you literally had to drag him away from what ever he was doing in order to get him to bed. "No Childe, your sleeping time is 9p.m stop whining." He bargained that he'll sleep if you sleep beside him (you didn't get any sleep. You knew what he was planning. In the end, you tried to make sure he didn't sneak out behind your back.)

• Finally you were able to get out of that hell-hole. Childe promised to make it up to you, you deserve it after all~

~~x~~

Small (aka Xiao)

• "Did you know in the Liyuean language, Xiao translates to small?" You didn't say that out loud. Not when he's this angry (this angy)

• He just stands there, crossing his arms and grumbling. You were hesitant to touch him in case he might hiss at you. Xiao has always been short, maybe an inch taller than you, but seeing him like this made you think 'my almighty yaksha can't be this cute♡'

• He gets mad when you no longer call his name for help. How could you? He's just so precious~ Xiao makes it clear that no matter what form he takes, it doesn't make him weak ("Adepti and you mortals are nothing alike." Or so he says but you could tell he wasn't running as fast as he used to because…small legs). You may not comment on it aloud but he can tell just by the look on your face and it irritates him.

• Also the type to not ask for help but worse. Xiao is an agressive little kid, he seems as if he'll be willing to bite someone's finger off if they try to pet him (He gives strong cat vibes, so thats understandable). His spear was too big for him to wield so he often has to put it away or else he might knock someone over with it. Xiao hates being short so you'll be hearing him complain alot.

• Since he was an adepti, he didn't need to sleep however, the curse must have brought down his power by a significant amount to the point you DID catch him napping. You almost swooned out loud just by taking a glance upon his face. For once he didn't wear his signature grumpy look. Xiao appears like a normal child, one full of innocence. His snoring was soft and breathly but that just meant he was deep asleep. (You wished to take a picture).

• Of course, everything had to come to an end (much to your disappointment), he still complains about the incident to this day.

~~x~~

Zhongli

• How is it possible for a baby to still look so handsome? (Must be his godly abilities)

• Zhongli is unfazed by this 'curse' since his past lives have already taken many forms. Though for some reason whenever he walks down the streets of Liyue, young girls, mothers, ladies all come him was and start complimenting him and gushing over him (he was suffocating). They'd squeeze him tight or squish his cheeks, it only takes once glance before the little girls start blushing and hiding behind their moms.

• Needless to say, despite what form he is in, Zhongli is still able to get free stuff. He got some free candies and some free kites to play with. You had to help him carry his items. Zhongli ends up tripping too much because his tailcoat reached his feet (he decided to just take it off. You had to hold that too). Seems like he can have anyone do things for him in the end HA.

• He still got that drippy voice and you're just like ???? "What on Teyvat Zhongli, you're a kid." This is why you can't see him as one, its nearly impossible.

• Actively avoids Hu Tao and Childe. Once Hu Tao caught sight of him and chased him for hours, he couldn't stay in one spot knowing that she might just pop out of no where. Childe still spoils him, however Zhongli feels irritated by the fact the only things Childe buys him toys (its different when other people do it.)

• Everytime you guys go back strolling through Liyue, you had to hold his hand in case more women come swarming hin again. You swear that at this rate he might get kidnapped because hes just such a beautiful baby.

• Zhongli learned an important lesson after his curse was lifted: no matter how many years he lives throughout never take a form of a child.

~~x~~

Albedo

• You find him buried beneath a pile of books and had to dig him out before he suffocates.

• Albedo has the cutest eyes, they're big and round full of curiosity and they sparkle too (he has the prettiest eyes out of everyone tbh). He is the only person who is fascinated by this outcome and immediately goes in the wild to test out his new physique.

• He was always curious why Klee T-poses when she runs so he decided to try it out himself. She was thrilled to find out that she now has a little brother to play with. In the end, Albedo indulges in the games she always wanted to play but couldn't because he was too old: princess dress up tea parties.

• You felt many things when you saw Albedo wearing a frilly gown and a plastic tiara tucked on his head. Deep down you knew regardless of what gender Albedo was still pretty. Klee even had the guts to redo his hair and hardly anyone was able to recognize it was him at all. He has pigtails, PIGTAILS! You made sure to burn that image into the very depths of your mind forever.

• The only advantage was the he was ablw to fit through small spaces, other than that, being small was way too inconvenient. He knocked down a few of his potion bottles which damaged the floor (thankfully not him) because they were lethal (he wonders how Klee was able to not injure herself when using bombs). You carried him and lifted him to alot of places such as trudging through the snow because Albedo would surely fall on his face due to his small form.

• Enough was enough, he only lasted a day with this and decided to just make a potion and put an end to the curse once and for all.

#genshin impact #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #albedo x reader #zhongli x reader #xiao x reader #childe x reader #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin impact headcanons #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #Kaeya #kaeya alberich #tartagalia x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #nya writes #scaramouche x reader

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coffeexmythos · 2 years

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Yeah I got nothing this time. It's wordy, it was written at 5 am, and it's gay. Just enjoy the rantep (with bonus mentioned trans!Carter)

---

Arkham had changed. Well, he knew that already. Strictly chronologically speaking, it'd been a hundred years since he'd last walked these streets. Of course, time as humans knew it was meaningless to the Other Gods. Time itself was a toy to those of Yog-Sothoth.

Still… A lot changed in a hundred years. Even Arkham was not quite frozen in time. A restaurant here, a shopping complex there. New side streets renamed, stop signs placed on corners, sidewalks with stubborn little dandelions poking through the cracks. The breeze from the Miskatonic River brushed the hair from his face, and he breathed in, deep and strong.

It was all a reminder.

A reminder that once again, he, Randolph Carter, was alive.

Overhead the clouds flowed, on the road the cars passed. People walked by and didn't look at him twice. Wes's clothes fit nicely, but of course they did. His apprentice's body had been the blueprint for his new ones. There was some… adjusting to do, of course. He'd forgotten Wes had been born female, for one, and had gotten a bit of a shock when he took his first shower. But the shower itself had been a puzzle all its own. Carter hadn't really cared about the finer details of modern life while incorporeal. Now he kicked himself for being so self absorbed.

What did it matter? He had a body all his own again. All those little hurdles meant nothing compared to that.

… He probably should have told Wes more about his situation prior to performing the ritual but--

Wait, there. Far in the distance, a dark shape. Carter squinted. He couldn't get a good look at it, but a familiar sensation crawled through his body. A warning.

Carter took off his glasses, rubbed them clean on his shirt, and put them on again.

The Black Pharaoh Nyarlathotep stood in front of him.

"Hello, Randolph."

Carter cried out. He jerked back, his heel caught in a crack in the concrete, and hit the ground with a grunt. Glasses askew, he looked up at the taller man, in time for a dark hand to reach for him.

"Surprised?" The hand fixed his glasses. Long fingers traced over Carter's cheek, and pulled away. "I'm almost disappointed. Did you think I didn't know?"

Warmth flooded Carter's face, skin tingling where the hand grazed his skin. He glared.

"You…"

The Pharaoh smirked down at him, and straightened. He had changed since the last time they'd clashed. Human in size now, but still over a foot taller than Carter's new form, he wore not the traditional robes of his title, but a business suit. Custom made, expensive, black fabric glinting purple and deep blue in the sunlight. Golden buttons, cufflinks with gems in deep, cool shades around the Eye of Horus. Ankh tie clip. Black trilby with a gold ribbon. And the same red eyes that trapped Carter from the very beginning, all those years ago.

"You knew about the ritual," Carter said. He pushed himself to his feet.

"There is not a thing you can do that I will not know about," Nyarlathotep said. "There's not a thing you can become that I will not discover. You didn't think you could escape me this way, did you?"

"I'm still not afraid of you, old friend," Carter said.

Nyarlathotep's lips curled up with amusement.

"Friend?" He said. "Should I be hurt by that?"

Carter had forgotten about the way butterflies fluttered in your stomach. How teeth ground together, how cheeks warmed and bodies burned.

"We both know," the Black Pharaoh said. He stepped closer. Before Carter could step back, Nyarlathotep's fingers gripped his shirt, jerked him closer. Carter had forgotten about the warmth of other people.

"We both know," Nyarlathotep said, "that we were always more than that."

His breath rushed over Carter's ear, and it burned, burned, burned.

"My apprentice. My lover. My pet," Nyarlathotep said. "My dear, deranged, defiant Randolph Carter."

Sweat on his temple, thunder in his veins. Carter reached up, gripped the hand holding his shirt, dug in his nails, and pushed the other away.

He stumbled back, and they were not where they'd been before. The air was cold with modern air conditioning, behind the Pharaoh, a view of the river through a wide window. Carter bumped into something, fell back. A chair met his fall.

Nyarlathotep smiled.

"You must have known," Nyarlathotep said. "What I would do when you regained your human form."

Carter glared. The sweat inched down ice cold on his skin.

Dress boots clicked on the floor. Two strong arms planted on both armrests on the chair, and pinned Carter's arms to them. Nyarlathotep leaned in.

"Don't pretend you didn't," Nyarlathotep said.

"You can't keep me here like this," Carter said.

Nyarlathotep tilted his head to the side.

"Do I need to?"

A knee pressed into the chair between Carter's legs. He forced down a noise, pulling away, but there was nowhere to go.

"Of course you can fight me," Nyarlathotep said. "But I always win in the end. I'll have you, Carter. I'll have you, your apprentice, your freedom…"

A hand slid up his arm, over his shoulder, lifted Carter's head up by the chin. Carter swallowed.

"Forever," Nyarlathotep said.

Carter opened his mouth to protest. Instead, he closed his eyes, closed his mouth.

"You were waiting for this," he said.

"I always knew it was your goal," Nyarlathotep said. "You betrayed me for your precious humanity. Of course, you'd try to take it back."

"But Carter," Nyarlathotep whispered. Carter turned his head away from the breath on his skin. "You can't change who you are. What you've become."

And he was right. Damn the bastard, Nyarlathotep was right. Carter was a monster wearing a human shell. Some horrible half mutated thing, more eldritch than anything. He'd chosen to pursue this path, and there was no escaping the consequences. He only delayed the inevitable.

But what a wonderful delay it was.

Carter opened his mouth to speak. Another mouth swallowed his words.

The kiss ached. His body ached with something other than pain.

"You will always be mine," Nyarlathotep said into his mouth. "I've claimed you, Carter. And the bastard you fragmented from cannot stop me from ruining you again."

#this is set in my Mythos cartoon au btw because I can't do anything with that but make it gay #randolph carter #nyarlathotep #rantep

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xxsycamore · 3 years

Note

Hi! Can I please request Chevalier x MC #18 (nipple play) and quote #21? Thank you so much! 💖

Thank you so much for requesting me! I figured I could make this one a bit more romantic, so Chevalier is not as merciless in this one (Or is he?). I hope you like it, dear!

- KINKTOBER DAY 18 - Seduction [ CHEVALIER/MC SMUT ]

Rating: E

Word count: 1,686

Relationship: F/M; Chevalier Michel/MC (Emma)

Tags: Nipple Play; Nipple Licking; Fondling; Size Difference; slight size kink; Slight primal kink; Teasing; Dirty Talk; Lingerie

Check my masterlist here! You can also find all my works on AO3 under user xsycamore. In my profile you can find my Ko-fi if you would like to support me!

Written for my Visions of Temptation Kinktober 2021 challenge. [DAY 1] [DAY 2] [DAY 3] [DAY 4] [DAY 5] [DAY 6] [DAY 7] [DAY 8] [DAY 9] [DAY 10] [DAY 11] [DAY 12] [DAY 13] [DAY 14] [DAY 15] [DAY 16] [DAY 17]

DAY 18 - Nipple play + “Does it feel that good? You’re trembling, you know.”

Emma feels a cold shiver run down her back as she stares at the exquisitely packaged supply of new clothes.

When Rio said it is a good idea to freshen up her wardrobe with new nightgown additions, Emma thought nothing about it. Sure, it had something to do with the fact that from now on she would be sharing a room with Chevalier, after the latter claimed her as his lover. Emma wasn't sure what's so bad about her current choice of nightwear, but decided to go with it. She even let Rio choose for her.

Which was a major mistake, she now discovers.

Lifting off the first item in the package by its straps, Emma examines it with pure shock. What is this flimsy, tenuous thing?! It's true that nights tend to be hot this time of the year and sheer fabrics are to be preferred, but this…

Emma shakes her head and puts the thing to the side, moving on to the next.

It's even worse. The delicate lace runs up to chest area and engulfs it completely, putting everything underneath on display. No. Definitely no.

The next one is quite similar, this time coming in a provocative shade of red. Emma puts it down on the pile without even unfolding it to spare a glance.

She briskly empties out the contents of the package, confirming her worst fear. They're all like that.

Getting off the bed with a hand over her mouth, she stares down at the articles scattered across the large king-sized bed in Chevalier's room. Which is now their room. Speaking of him, Emma darts her gaze to the clock, checking how much time she has before he comes back. She just has to pay a short visit to her own chambers, to retrieve one of her…normal nightgowns, and shove these at the bottom of some drawer.

Tidying them up and going back to the very first one of the bunch, she decides to give it a chance after all and put it on. Maybe it would look somewhat proper once it's on her.

Looking at the person in the mirror, Emma refuses to meet her own gaze. She's fond of her own naked forms enough, but looking at them, she looks from her lover's perspective. He would see just what she sees, in its full suggestiveness. Sleeping naked sounds better than this, even. At least her birthday suit is something Chevalier has already seen her in…

A knock on the door interrupts her worrisome thoughts. Placing a hand over her startled heart, she speaks up.

"Who is it?"

A familiar voice answers from the other side.

"It's me. Who else do you expect in this hour?"

It's Chevalier. It's nice to see that he remembered to knock altogether, but it doesn't make the situation any better.

"I'm changing. Can you please give me a minute?"

Without waiting for a reply, Emma strides to the wardrobe and puts on the first vest that comes before her eyes. She blows out most of the candles in the room just in time to hear Chevalier's raised voice.

"And wait in front of the door like a servant? I'm coming in. Just turn around, I won't be looking."

The door creaks open as he enters, at first taken aback by the lack of light in the room. The moon is almost full, allowing him to see just fine once his eyes get used to it. His gaze still lowers as a sign that he keeps his promise of not looking at Emma. Only, Emma is not amid changing at all. He stares at her standing in the middle of the room, huddled into a vest as if she is cold or something. She manages a smile, albeit an awkward one that only leaves room for more suspicion.

"Welcome back, Chevalier."

He walks to her, holding her gaze until he is close enough that she has to raise her chin in order to continue looking at him.

Chevalier remains silent as he uses the thumb of one hand to stroke across her cheek, in an almost soothing manner. It disappears quickly as the same hand comes lower, gripping the clothing draped around her shoulders and briskly pulling it off her.

His expression changes to subtle perplexing upon the revealed sight. Then it changes again, to one of satisfaction.

Emma still tries to hug her arms around her frame, but is stopped by Chevalier. She discovers the smirk on his face and pales up.

"It's not-"

"You needn't excuse yourself. I'm pleased with your choice. Though your boldness is surprising."

His hand returns to caress over her chin, this time sliding underneath it in order to make her look up. She should know by now to recognize the gesture as a signal for an upcoming kiss, yet still the soft gasp leaves her lips once Chevalier claims them.

The kiss is sweet and it's so easy for her to lose track of how they move to the bed. Emma finds herself situated atop of Chevalier's lap, thankfully facing away once their kiss ends. Feeling his chest pressed up against her tiny backside, Emma is glad that the spreading blush on her cheeks remains a secret. It's also too much to look him in the eye right now that she is close enough for the clothing on her to be seen for all it is.

Chevalier's hands come to rest upon her knees, thumbs nudging in the hem of the nightgown. He slowly slides his hands upward, taking the fabric along as more and more of her tights are exposed for him. Emma bites on her bottom lip, spreading her legs instinctively until they fall off the sides of Chevalier's own. He is only ready to make use of the newly discovered territory as he runs his fingernails over the paper-thin skin of her inner tights. Emma shivers whole, the touch almost tickling her as she fights not to let out any naughty noises so early on. It's hard to do so.

Trying to predict his moves proves to be futile, as instead of slipping into her panties, Chevalier continues running his hands upwards. He follows the curve of her waist on both sides, until he suddenly gropes her breasts.

"Ah-"

Any efforts not to moan go to waste as Chevalier breathes out a chuckle of satisfaction. His warm hands hold her breasts up for a second before gently releasing them. He can sense the way Emma takes in a large portion of breath and her ribcage expands underneath his hands, and it stirs something primal within him. She is so lovely like this, small and fragile in his arms, all his. And yet she still dares to seduce him using such cheap tricks as sexy lingerie, as if he doesn’t already want her enough. It's the bravery of it that turns him on the most.

Emma feels a jolt running thought her as Chevalier's fingers graze her nipples. He strokes his fingerpads across them, bringing them to full hardness in mere seconds. The sheer fabric of the clothing only emphasizes the feeling, resulting in a string of pleasure-fueled noises escaping from Emma. Chevalier never ceases his movements, now rolling her taut peaks between his index fingers and his thumbs, pulling on them repeatedly.

“Does it feel that good? You’re trembling, you know. Do you enjoy having your nipples played with so much?"

Emma grips whatever happens to be on the way of her hands, the bedsheets, Chevalier's thighs, as she mutters out her answer.

"Yes, I love it. I want more, please!"

"Turn around to face me and put your hands around my neck."

Emma's half-lidded eyes open again as she hurries to comply, looking forward to the next part of her lover's merciless act. Her damp core is soon to be staining the front of Chevalier's lap and she wishes he would do something about it, even if a part of her is enjoying the thrill of the tease.

After a quick discardment of his overcoat, Chevalier accepts her in his embrace with a fierce kiss. He pays up extra attention into claiming her mouth, as if wanting to devour her whole, leaving her lips agape in its wake as he licks a wet strap down her neck. He places kisses on her exposed cleavage, his teeth scraping on it as he reaches his hands to her breasts again.

In the brief minute of rest Emma's chest hasn't gotten any less sensitive, and Chevalier's tongue swapping across her perk nipples only proves that. This time her moans are louder, clearer, and Chevalier brings his arms to encircle her waist and keep her upright. He buries his face completely in her chest, breathing in her aroma as he suckles on her left breast. The fabric dampens with his saliva, highlighting the impact of his ministrations as Emma breathes out his name.

"Chevalier- Chevalier please, oh God, please lay me down and take me already!"

A soft rumble in his chest is enough to indicate he's heard her loud and clear, yet he takes his time toying with her chest as he pleases. He finishes off with a kiss on the apex of her breasts, something that makes Emma blush harder than anything prior.

Standing up and guiding her beneath him, Chevalier can finally admire Emma from above. Gesturing her to take off her nightgown, he removes the rest of his own clothing before joining her on the bed as well.

Still she is the most beautiful like this, bare from head to toe and laying underneath him. With wandering eyes he drinks on the sight of her, deciding if he should give even more attention to her breasts, or perhaps lick her pussy to completion once or twice before the main event of the night. Normally he is not the type to go as far as to lose his mind in the throes of passion, yet he still needs to make a reminder to tell her to doll herself up for him again some time.

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#Ikemen Prince #IkePri #Ikemen Prince Chevalier #Chevalier Michel #Ikemen Prince smut #Ikemen prince fanfiction #VISIONSOFTEMPTATION2021 #ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri chevalier #chevalier michel

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photiniainsummer · 3 years

Text

Dancing with the Dark

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: You've taken to lingering around Dark's office late at night when he thinks he's alone with his old jazz standards.

Or so you thought, until one night you find the door open.

You've always wondered what exactly he does behind it...

It's listen to music. Get your mind out of the gutter. ;)

(second person POV, gender neutral reader)

Word Count: 6860

Author’s Note: No warnings - this is really all just tooth-rotting, tender, slow build romance. There is dancin' and smoochin', though. 👀 Also posted to AO3!

It wasn’t something you had intended to intrude on. The Manor is big, but not that big, and it just so happens that the quickest route to your bedroom means you have to pass Dark’s office suite. As your nights have gotten later and later, trying to keep tabs on Mark and the poor, scattered egos he’s made and dumped, more and more often have you caught soft, crackling music drifting out from behind your sort-of boss’ heavy office door.

At first, you mostly ignored it, noting it with a small smile and continuing to bed. It’s really none of your business what the shadowy man does in his free time, you figured. Plus, you all manage to live on top of one another, despite the Manor’s size, which puts privacy at a premium - who are you to deny him some when he can get it? But as time has passed and you’ve worked intensely together, the original enmity between you two has turned into a professional respect and eventually, you’d hazard, a friendly banter. At least, such as Dark is willing to joke around.

And so, tempted by your mutual softening, and maybe a little curiosity as to what kind of music your ‘leader’ listens to, you’ve found yourself pausing in your path to bed when you catch him playing a record. At first, you only stopped briefly at the top of the stairs with his office across the landing from you, taking a moment to appreciate a few bars of dreamy jazz. It was peaceful, almost magnetically melodic. But you quickly grew self-conscious in your eavesdropping, and, not wanting to seem nosy (despite the fact you definitely were being nosy), moved along to your room.

You crossed the landing to the bit of wall near his door, next, but kept a keen eye on the stairs behind you in case you needed to make a sudden retreat. For a week or so, you took longer, lingering there at the mouth of the short hallway to his office. You would take in a full song before you got antsy, concerned Dark might get up to make a late-night cup of tea and discover you. Even so, you had found it hard to pull yourself away from the lilting voices of his records - time seemed to slow, for just a little while, and you felt you breathed easier, deeper even, once you were back in your bedroom.

Finally, now, and most nights for the last month, you’ve let yourself truly relax just outside his door. He never leaves, not that you’ve seen, and so you’ve taken to resting in the shadow of the short hallway and letting the hypnotic drags of a brush across a snare, crooning voices over a string quartet wrap around you. Dark’s music is never truly jazzy, never truly swinging, and it soothes you like very little else can these days. It’s steady - you think that’s what’s so appealing about it - drawing you in at the end of a long day for a moment of reprieve, floating outside of time in the gentle shade of this corner of the Manor.

You’ve gotten used to it, to be sure. The sleepy, tripping dance of a horn greets you at the end of each long day spent combing through Mark’s videos, hunting for hints as to his next move. The quiet moments spent letting the gentle jazz unwind some tight thing in your chest have become just as much your routine as they are Dark’s - and you understand why he takes the time. Until you started lingering to listen, you were harder up for time alone than you thought with barely a moment to spend in your own head. Everything was focused on maneuvering around Mark, a seemingly endless game of cat-and-mouse that left you tossing and turning and jittering yourself into an exhausted unconsciousness each night. But now, you fall asleep faster, wake up feeling more rested having actually relaxed before bundling down under your covers. You had found a little corner of peace, thanks to Dark. And, perhaps, thanks to your damned nosiness, as the man himself had called it once.

Only occasionally as you lean against the wallpaper have you allowed yourself to think about the man behind the door. For all your collaboration, Dark is still a mysterious, calculating, and distant figure. It’s by his own making, too. He’s been content to work closely with you planning Mark’s downfall, but keeps his own cards so close to his chest you have to wonder if he can even see them now, so to speak.

Perhaps he knows them well enough not to need to.

You’ve learned not to pry too much about any of the egos’ pasts and what they remember of them, unless you’re just in the mood for awkward, dead-end conversations. Wilford doesn’t seem troubled in the moment, human bouncy ball that he is, but responds vaguely - even for him - before up and disappearing for a few days. Google spouts some kind of technical jargon about his assembly warehouse that you can barely keep up with, then focuses intently on changing the subject. The Host only gives you one of his polite little smiles and reminds you that your futures are ‘of a more pressing nature’ than his past is.

The only one you’ve totally avoided trying to bring up the subject with is Dark. Your first real conversation had edged on it, and his reaction - aura practically blowing all the lightbulbs in the room, crackling copies of himself writhing in rage - had been pretty clearly in the ‘not positive’ camp. You’ve not had the stomach to unnecessarily incite his ire, so most of what you know about him, you’ve put together yourself. A vague understanding of his blended nature, the people he was before, their relationships to Mark… But it’s all guesses and deductive work about people long gone from the plane you inhabit. Grasping at shadows and context clues to paint a portrait of how the being, who deeply dislikes the outsize attention his central role as Mark’s primary ‘villain’ commands, came to be.

Yet, you do know some things about what he’s like. That he doesn’t seem to need to eat or take breaks of any kind. That he’s single-mindedly devoted to stopping Mark in his tracks, and intensely methodical about the whole endeavor. Even when you think you’ve caught him reading something for fun, it turns out to be Mark-adjacent. It’s impressive, you admit, but also why hearing those strains of songs sung long ago, finding him doing something unproductive has captured you so. To think of him taking time for himself, doing nothing but enjoying some music… it simultaneously feels incredibly decadent and comforting. For all his hardworking exterior, there are quiet moments Dark takes to relax. Even more than his music, that soothes something in your heart you didn’t even know was tense.

Plus, good lord. The man listens to croony, moony, love-sick music late at night when the rest of the Manor has retreated to their own separate corners. How could you not melt?

Yet it’s impossible for you not to wonder what exactly he does behind his office door. It’s always firmly shut, and even with the proclivity toward psychic abilities in the Manor’s residents, you can’t completely school the curiosity it inspires. Listening to a couple croon about the stars or something equally cheesy from your spot out in the hall, you’ll often picture him relaxing in one of the high-backed armchairs situated near the heavy fireplace. Maybe he’s shut the door to his workspace proper, allowed himself some wine from the cellar, propped his feet up… Maybe he’s truly relaxing, thinking of something altogether having nothing to do with his work. It’s anachronistic enough to your steadfast image of him to be ridiculous, but you also can’t help but hope it exists in some form, protected behind the dark wood that muffles already-quietly trilling piano keys.

This is why, late one night, you’re stopped in your tracks at the foot of the stairs, already able to hear his music. You’d been just about to pull yourself up the stairs by the handrails, eyes bleary from staring at your screen all day when you’d picked out the dreamy march of brass. You’ve only ever been able to hear his records when you’re standing on the landing - is something wrong? Cautiously, you ascend the tightly winding stairs, your thoughts mirroring the spiraling steps as they scramble, chasing away any haziness.

Reaching the landing, you find dancing firelight spilling out across the thick Persian rug there, Dark’s door cracked shockingly wide. The sight is almost obscene, illuminating the spot that has been your shadowy cocoon. It’s only made more stark by the clarity of the music that lilts through the air. You have the keen, embarrassed feeling that you should not be seeing what you’re seeing, that you’re intruding, infringing on something private - even though all you can see of the office is a little bit of wall just inside the door. Even so, the sudden need to stop this, to preserve something personal, quiet, safe for Dark overtakes you. You’re spurred into action, crossing the space on careful feet. You move to shut the door, to right this obvious wrong, but as your hand takes the old brass knob, the music from within murmurs tender thoughts of lovers embracing after an age apart. Even with your goal so firmly in mind, you can’t stop your eyes from flitting over the sliver of his office the crack in the door reveals.

And, oh, what it reveals.

As if intentionally centered for your view, Dark is, as you’ve imagined countless times, tucked into one of the armchairs near the fire. His suit jacket has been carefully folded and hung over the back of his chair, his starkly white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar to reveal a bit of the skin at his throat. More is revealed by the tilt of his head as he rests it back in the crook of the armchair’s wings.

You’ve never seen him so… undressed before. You immediately flush, embarrassedly shooing the thought away before it can become anything more than a passing observation. You’re thankful to see that his piercing eyes are gently shut, the breaths he draws steady and quiet. Even his aura is still, nonexistent except for his colorlessness. The dull ring that accompanies him, too, is almost completely silent. Whatever remains is drowned out by the softly crackling gramaphone to his side.

Although you know he doesn’t need to sleep, the tender image of him relaxed enough as to fall into it twists something so totally in your heart that it keeps you there, hand on the doorknob. You know you need to close the door back, and carefully, too, so you don’t pop whatever bubble of peace he’s floating in, but… It’s like having a dragonfly land on the tip of your finger, spotting a deer at the edge of your garden, catching the sun breaking over the horizon and truly beginning to dawn. How can you look away before it ends?

But you’re playing with fire in waiting for this moment to end, and, unfortunately, you get burned.

At least, it feels like you do. Suddenly, Dark’s head comes up, his eyes cracking open, and the cold heat of being caught scalds the back of your neck. You go to close the door, but it’s too late - his black eyes catch yours, and he calls your name. It’s gentle, a distant question, but it still makes your heart sink into some pitiful little depth of your stomach. There’s no way to play this off casually; he sounds truly awake. Either he wasn’t actually sleeping, or you’ve startled him enough to banish any hint of drowsiness from his voice. You’ve ruined this precious little thing, your knowledge of it revealed, and, gosh, you feel miserable for it. But you were called, and so you crack the door a little wider, an apology already on your lips.

“I was just going to shut it for you, I’m sorry,” you offer, quietly, as if trying not to interrupt the music still going at his elbow.

Dark doesn’t immediately respond, watching you with his usually piercing, contrasted eyes. Yet, they’re softer, tired - was he actually sleeping? The gramophone crackles like the low fire nearby. The record playing spins wobblingly, curled with age. The music is even dreamier unfiltered like this, giving the lowly-lit room a hint of unreality. Time seems to stretch between you, and when he finally speaks, his echoing, multi-throated voice only adds to the feeling you’re imagining things.

“...you may come in, if you would like.”

Something has gone horribly wrong. He, or another ego, is dying or has died, you’re certain of it. That, or Mark has figured out your plan to collect them and gotten to one first, maybe Yancy or the Captain, taking them out of the picture or scooping them up for himself. It’s the only obvious explanation your startled mind can offer for seeing Dark so markedly undone - his jacket, his shirt, the door…

Just as quickly, you realize how ridiculous the thought is. Dark wouldn’t look like a rather sleepy cat, cozied up to the fire with his music of choice, much less invite you so casually into his inner sanctum if things had gone to hell. No, there’d be more rending of reality or quick, tense words - a contingency plan thrown into action.

Which means you actually have to deal with being invited into his office late at night, a place you’ve hovered around and imagined for nigh on a month. You force yourself to respond casually, nodding as if this is normal for the two of you as you step over the threshold. He gestures for you to shut the door, and you do, gently putting it to rights before crossing the bookshelf-lined room to join him.

Like you always do. Obviously.

Once near the fire, you can see his aura is beginning to stir once more, the edges of him blurring with compelling darkness. In all the imagining you’d dared to entertain, you have never considered what his face would look like in these moments. His brow is relaxed, his expression open, and though his attention is fully fixed on you, it doesn’t cut through you or hunt for answers. He is merely regarding, the firelight only able to cast dancing shadows across his face for all its warmth. He’s relaxed. Relax-ing .

It’s, again, almost obscene. So much more than you anticipated. It’s one thing to imagine all that you have in theory, a different one to see it in truth, to experience it. And Dark, relaxing, is something you can barely take your eyes off of. He looks so much more like a person, undone after a long day of work, not quite ready to trip off to bed. With his aura so reserved, only mildly undulating at the very edges of him, you could almost dismiss it as a trick of the light, if not for how he absorbs and negates color.

Just a man.

Trying to stay casual, you prop yourself on the chair across from him, chin in hand, and you both watch each other for a moment. Both quiet. Both tired. Except your silence is tinged with subtle awe. At being invited in, at being here, at seeing him this way. It’s like the killer panther that typically stares you down from the shadows giving you a lazy, sun-warmed blink. As much as you try to treat Dark normally, there are moments when you can’t help being amazed - though it’s usually due to his eldritch powers and not him engaging in the simple act of sleeping.

Which begs the question - why leave the door open while he was so indisposed? Mild concern rises again, and you feel compelled to ask.

“Is everything okay…?”

You swear his eyes twinkle, amused. It’s hard to tell with the fire dancing like it is, his face remaining otherwise unchanged. You want to frown, wondering how loud your thoughts have been, but leave it.

“Yes... and no, as always. Nothing has changed, if that is what you mean. There is no need to worry.”

Coming from anyone else, it would be a formality. Your shoulders would stay hunched, your brow might furrow. But when Dark says it, when he speaks more quietly than you think you’ve ever heard him speak, it scatters whatever remaining fears his invitation had kicked up to the wind. You exhale. It is a comfort, but… It doesn’t explain why he invited you in. If you had really ruined his illusion of privacy, would he so readily let you walk over its remnants?

Suddenly, the answer is clear - so simple and obvious as to be startling. You speak before you can question the thought.

“Just want some company?”

Dark continues to watch you, but his gaze loses some of its lethargy. The panther stirs, considering. Weighing. Calculating. Heat rises up your neck ever so slightly - that will teach you to jump to conclusions.

But then he hums and gives an affirming nod. He gestures to the seat you’re leaning on. “Again, if you would like…”

Is that hesitancy?

You really feel like you’re dreaming as you settle across from him. He just wants company. He hesitated. He couldn’t even ask for it. Notably distant Dark, who never joins the rest of you for meals, for after-dinner drinks, who you rarely ever see outside his office… wants company. Although the chair’s winged back curls around you and radiates warmth absorbed from the fire, you find it difficult to relax as he continues to, turning his black-and-white gaze to the fire. Does he want conversation? Comfortable silence? How are you meant to parse what he’s wanting against the background of how surreal it is that you’re actually here?

But little things remind you that this is very much happening - the heat of the nearby fire, the music’s volume being slightly louder than you’d imagined. Although, you remind yourself, you’ve been hearing it muffled by heavy wood until now. It’s still relatively soft, just clearer up close. Your eyes fall to the gramophone piping it out. You’ve seen it in passing, but it registered about as much as the carved wooden globe on the mantle - furniture, meant as a finishing touch for the room. It looks like a true antique, though, its curved neck and ornate mouth lovingly maintained, polished to a shine apart from a few inevitable age spots. It’s close enough to Dark for him to operate without getting up, records tidily shelved underneath.

Your eyes edge back to the man seated so nearby. His slowly awakening aura is gently tugging at your attention, but he himself pays you no mind. That relieves you, somewhat, a silent answer to what his idea of ‘company’ is.

You realize, then, that you’ve never simply existed with him before. Throughout your time at the Manor, you two have only ever been in each other’s company to work or exchange information. There’s always been a goal, something to focus on, to accomplish. But now… there’s nothing. Nothing to do but exist.

Why does that suddenly feel so hard?

You must be thinking rather loudly, because Dark’s gaze slides leisurely from the flames onto you. He tilts his head, but not in that strange drifting motion it sometimes does, gravitating to some sick angle of its own accord. No, he’s just curious. You smile sheepishly, wondering if all your mental spinning has disturbed his peace, made him second-guess inviting you in.

“Too loud?”

Another amused flicker in his colorless eyes. “No louder than usual.”

So tired Dark has jokes , apparently. You give him a look. “Not exactly comforting.”

“To be fair, they are much quieter than when you arrived.” It’s almost a compliment - at least he’s not calling you loud anymore. Letting that be a comfort, you attempt to relax back into the chair. It, like the rest of the Manor’s furniture, feels straight out of a period drama with none of the damage of age. It’s still as soft as it was whenever Dark crafted this bubble of reality.

“It’s hard when you can’t control it - like I have noise cancelling headphones and can’t hear myself or anyone else.”

He hums. “You do not need to explain it to me.” Ouch. You look to the fire, taking the inside of your cheek between your teeth. When will you learn to keep your foot out of your mouth? Dark senses the sudden silence and mildly clears his throat. “I mean… Only to say that I understand you do not have the same ability. I do not hold it against you.”

His voice still has that quietness to it, a low, gentle undercurrent. It’s practically an apology, how he chooses his words. You shift, rubbing your finger joints with your other hand. You’ve been told it looks like hand-wringing, but it soothes you and the soreness there. “I think you saw it differently, when I first got here,” you hazard, just as quiet as you look back to him. Dark is watching you evenly, but something shifts in his brow as he recalls that first day. How different your tones had been, how differently you’d approached the other. You’re only feet from where that first conversation took place, and yet…

“...much was different, then,” he murmurs. “I was, perhaps… harsher than I should have been. I was unaccustomed to the sensation, not at my best.” He seems to stop himself there, closing something that was edging open before looking back to the fire. “I have grown used to it. The sound of your thoughts does not trouble me, but you have also improved at closing your mind. It is impressive, for someone unlike the rest of us.”

Good lord, maybe he actually is dying. You don’t think you’ve heard so many kind words from the man in all your months of living together. His gaze stays fixed on the flames, even as you stare at him, a little stunned. Silence draws out between you, filled only by tonight’s accompaniment. Yet, it doesn’t spark with nervous energy or prickle in pointed coldness. It crackles like ancient records warped with time, old oak burning to warm a place apart from the rest of existence. You settle deeper into the armchair, eyes turning from the shadow you’re keeping company.

He only barely catches your pleased little smile, finding it hard to look at you for too long.

From then on, Dark leaves the door open for you, although cracked much less wide than before. When you call it a night, you make your way through the Manor to your seat near his fire instead of right to bed. Although the weather of the world still reaches you, the place Dark maintains is always just slightly colder, so the fire’s warmth is never unwelcome. Sometimes you talk, sometimes you sit together in silence, but regardless of how chatty either of you feel, there’s always music curling underneath the moment. Dark doesn’t sleep like he did the first night, but he always has his coat off and that softer turn to his eyes by the time you arrive. It’s strange, at first, to see him switch so much between his work and leisure personas, and at first you wonder why he’s not always so relaxed. Surely things would be less tense.

And then you remember Wilford’s incessant gunfire, Google’s underlying objective, the weight of his very existence. Without his steady, cool glare, the Manor would be full of bullet holes, and they’d all probably be dead with Mark free to break reality to his whim. If Dark wasn’t so tightly wound, everything would come undone.

So you enjoy - scratch that. You let him be how he is, in each moment, without comparison. Sure, it’s nice to talk to Dark when he isn’t grinding out words from between his teeth, and seeing him undone has removed whatever distance might have remained between you, but to say you enjoy him…

Christ. Who are you kidding - you really enjoy him.

It really happens without you noticing, and it almost drives you nuts with how cliche it all is. Things just build up - he has a pillow placed in your chair just so for your lower back, you pull the smallest of smiles of him with a well-put observation (and find that his eyes crinkle the same way the other egos’ do) - until one night he asks you to dance.

He’s not quite so blunt as that about it, but it’s essentially what happens. You’re sitting together, having fallen into one of those comfortably quiet moments when a song comes on that you recognize. Not from your time lingering around Dark’s door, but from before you came to the Manor, vague memories welling up of a ballroom dancing class in undergrad you’d taken for fun full of sore toes and sweaty hands. You laugh, suddenly, startled at just how far away that moment feels. You try to cover it with your hand, but you continue to chuckle as something about the ridiculousness of it gets to you, and Dark watches you with some mix of amusement and concern. There’s a little of that predator’s intentionality there - searching for answers. You shake your head as you calm, dropping your hand but still smiling.

“Just… I know this song.”

“Oh?” Read: Continue.

“Well, I… Back in my first year at university, I... well, I signed up for this ballroom dancing unit. This was one of the songs we used, I think.” Dark inclines his head as something changes in his gaze. Your last little aftershock of laughter passes and you settle back into watching the fire lick at its grate, content to let it lie. But Dark continues to watch you. Feeling him still staring, you look back - very little of that soft turn to his eyes remains. He is a man focused. “What?” you eventually ask, shifting under his stare.

“I did not know you danced.”

You fluster, then, scoffing at the idea, eyes falling to the carpet between you. “I… don’t. Unless you count slow dancing, I guess. It was just the one class. Forever ago.”

He’s not content, fixated. But quiet. Considering. Weighing. Then…

“Would you like to?”

You look back quickly enough that you wonder if his aura pulled at you in tandem with your surprise. “Wh. I… Now?”

He nods, slowly. You just stare, trying to process the idea and coming up with no clear thoughts. Then he does something funny - he actually shifts under your scrutiny, gaze flickering away for the briefest of moments before returning to you. That alone is enough to stun you further, Dark looking practically shy, but he explains. “In my day, I was an avid dancer. I enjoyed little else outside of… work. I can show you how.”

You momentarily wonder which of his past lives he means before you find yourself nodding in agreement. Even if you hadn’t wanted to, this is… new. Dark offering so much at such little gain to himself, unfurling those cards from so close to his chest. Refusing now might mean they would never come away again.

“Can you?” Your voice is surprisingly dry, distant, but Dark doesn’t seem to notice, focused on the task now at hand. On you. He only nods and rises from his chair in a smooth motion before offering you a hand.

From experience, you know he leeches color from whatever he touches, even things in his vicinity if his aura is expansive and active enough. Yet, you’ve never had reason to make direct contact, and so you still watch in minor surprise as your hand loses its luster and gains a black-and-white cast when you take his. “It isn’t permanent,” he explains as you stand to join him. “It’s only… plants, that can’t handle it.” He sounds mildly embarrassed, and it clicks why you’ve never seen him in the Host’s garden. The future-sighted ego had probably barred him from the place years ago.

“Oh,” you reply lamely, and he ducks his head somewhat before leading you to the more open space between your chairs and the outer office door. There, he turns smoothly and you’re in position, having used his hold on your hand to subtly guide you closer. Your other hand lands on his upper arm, almost at his shoulder, and he gently shifts his elbow under yours to guide it to rest on top, near his collar. His own hand comes to rest higher on your back than you remember from class, almost on your shoulder blade.

It feels so proper, how you stand, how he holds you… Against the age-old music set to guide you and the Manor’s unchanged decor, you can almost see who he was before - the swish of a beaded skirt, the creak of a heavy cane - but then he speaks, heavy with shadow, and all you know is the darkness in your arms, here and now.

“Just a simple step. You remember a waltz?” You nod - did we dance this close together back then? “Good. Then you know to follow me. Stay relaxed...”

The idea of relaxing flies out of your mind the minute he guides you backward. All your mental energy is focused on not laughing in pure nervous surprise as he seems to get closer and closer before your muscle memory manages to kick in and you’re stepping back with him. You’re slightly out of sync, and he slows just so to catch up with you before he brings you back up to the pace of the song. “Relax,” he murmurs, dipping his head so much closer to yours than feels decent as he speaks, as if sharing a secret. “I have you.”

You certainly do, you think, immediately glad you’ve been practicing keeping your mind closed more often. With all the time you were spending with Dark in his off-hours, you had felt it was only fair that you didn’t overload him any further. That extra practice is coming in handy now as your thoughts swirl behind the dam you imagine holds them back from the general psychic public - your dance partner in particular.

True to his word, Dark keeps it simple, guiding you slowly around the open space, easily turning you in lazy patterns across the floor. And thank goodness for that - anything more complicated and you wouldn’t be able to balance it with how hyper-aware you are of everywhere the two of you touch, the feeling of his firm shoulder and crisp dress shirt under your hand, the skin of his palm against yours - softer than you’d imagined, with calluses inside his first finger from years of pen-writing.

All the same little anxieties bubble up, long-forgotten but haunting you now with a vengeance. Are you gripping him too tightly? Are you anticipating his movements too much? Is your hand getting sweaty, or is that normal? Can he hear you breathing funny? You’ve thankfully settled into a comfortable angle of faces, yours turned slightly to the left and down, eyes fixed firmly on the curve of his shoulder. You don’t think you could trust yourself to make eye contact just now. You can’t say how exactly Dark’s face is turned, though, so focused on keeping your eyes where they are and your thoughts in check that you haven’t looked - nor do you hear him speaking your name until he squeezes you ever so slightly.

You turn, bidden, and you’re practically nose to nose. His stark eyes are already watching you when you meet them, and it steals whatever shallow breath was in your lungs. Up close, you would think you would be able to discern a hint of color in his irises, find that they were really a dark, dark brown. But they are truly, completely black. And they watch you so carefully, thoughtfully, with barely any room to breathe between you.

Your face must betray how the proximity startles you, because you get treated to another of his small, almost imperceptible smiles. Up close. You can see how it pulls at his eyes, and you’re thankful now that you can’t bring yourself to look away. “I… Yes?”

“You’re quiet,” he explains, after a beat.

“Do you… typically talk, dancing like this?” When did your throat get so dry? Dark chuckles, low and only for a moment.

“You can... But I was referring to your thoughts.” Uh oh.

“Oh…?” You try to sound normal, mildly interested instead of panicked, already floundering for what to say. Dark’s eyes flicker across your face, and you feel horribly exposed. As if, through the underbrush, you’ve just caught the gleam of a predator’s gaze.

“The closer you are, the more clearly I hear them. Yet…” He pauses, turning you past a low table. “I can barely hear you at all.” Then his voice grows softer, somehow, and your throat feels like it’s never known water. “Where did you go?”

“I…” You swallow fruitlessly, dropping your gaze back to his shoulder, to safety. What can you say to explain the sudden, obvious gap without blurting oh, it’s nothing, I only just realized I’ve been falling in love with you for the past couple of months when you asked me to dance and now I’m trying not to lose it while you hold me. “I’ve… been practicing,” you try. It’s the truth, at least. But you still can’t meet his eyes, though you feel them keenly observing you. “Didn’t… Didn’t want to be shouting at you, from, well... this close.”

He’s quiet then, focusing on sweeping you steadily around the room. The song has changed, your pace slowing somewhat to match the new one, and he takes the chance to guide you through a slightly more complicated step, jettisoning words in favor of taking you through a lazy spin before you fall back into the same step as before. You think you might have dodged a bullet as you settle into the movement, your gentle contact not so new and mind-reeling as it was when you started. But then he speaks, and the echo of his voice almost covers his words for how low it is.

“I… enjoy hearing your thoughts. Hearing you.” Dark’s hand holds yours more firmly as the one on your back brings you close to his chest. He’s practically cradling you against him, and you turn your face towards his in the moment to keep from being trapped looking away. You’ve never seen him make the face he’s wearing now - so serious, brow pulled just slightly, intent, yet that searching intensity has faded. Earnest . “I… I enjoy you. Unless you want your privacy, you are free to… be open with me. If you would like,” he's quick to add, his signature phrase that feels so much like as you wish.

You’re grateful he brings you to an easy stop, even as the music continues behind you because dancing has become beyond your grasp. Your eyes flicker across his shadowed face, mind scrambling as the dam you imagine creaks dangerously within. How much is too much? You hunt for clues in his expression, his face betraying so damn little like always, but then - then - his eyes flicker ever so briefly to your lips, and your eyes perceive a slightly darker shade of gray unfurling across his cheeks.

So you let go.

You don’t drown him in it, of course, but you allow your mind to open slowly once more. He inhales a forcibly steady breath, eyes searching yours once more as he processes, weighs, and finally draws you completely into him, head turning just so to finally fit your lips together in a kiss that feels like crisp, refreshing relief and wood smoke under a winter moon. You breathe in, feeling how cool he is to the touch, how steady he is under your hands, your kiss, even as his aura constantly roils.

Dark drops your hand to cradle your head and draw you further in, your arm finds its way around his broad back. His lips leave yours and you’re already starting to imagine your next kiss before he interrupts and gives it to you, a low sound in his throat and his hand bringing a tilt to your head that makes you incredibly thankful for how he’s holding you up. You kiss, and kiss, parting and rejoining in soft pecks and long presses that make the old standards you’ve bonded over sound like both the truest truths and palest lies.

Eventually, though, he withdraws, letting you catch your breath, soothing you with small kisses trailing from your lips to your jaw and back toward the joint of it and your neck. He’s adoring and unhurried - though the farther down his lips descend, the less air you can properly draw in. He slows on the softer skin there, hand still supporting your head where you tipped it back for him, and inhales gently as if he, too, needs to be steadied. His voice is a distant rumble, as much in your head as it is spoken. “Is my music really so moony...?”

It’s so sudden, your thoughts laid bare against the hint of his insecurity. A laugh bubbles up and out of you, breathless waves shaking your body. You only hold onto him tighter, and he squeezes you back in turn. You can feel him really smiling down against your neck, the pull of his lips and rounding of his cheeks evident against your sensitive skin. Why had you even tried to hide?

“The fact that you could sing any of them while gazing longingly at the stars should answer your question,” you tease, and he’s laughing with you, settling into just holding you close. “...but I like it. It’s romantic.”

“It was not my original intent, but...what wonderful results,” he murmurs, kissing your throat once more before coming back up, letting you catch your breath properly. How does he make the cheesiest things sound good?

“Mine either,” you admit. His brow quirks above warm eyes.

“No? What, then, was your intent in imagining how I chose to relax?” he asks, a wicked tease coloring his tone. You blink, and then heat rises up the back of your neck, your ears burn. He knew?? The whole time?????

“You could…” Your voice is distant as Dark draws the back of his hand softly across your cheek, fingers trailing the blush rising there. His eyes dip to follow it, watching it unfurl under your skin with the most damnably amused smile you’ve ever seen him wear. Damn him. Damn him, of course he knew!

“You should know doors can do very little to stop me…” You groan miserably. “But I liked it. It was romantic,” he continues, echoing you. It has such buried mirth that it only serves to embarrass you further, so you worm your arms against his chest, trying to push him off. He only chuckles that deep chuckle and holds you closer, lips pressing to your temple. “And so kind of you to want to protect me and my little moment… Did I really look so deliciously undressed...”

“Oh my god. Oh my god!” And here he had been playing coy this whole time! Letting you just dangle all your most embarrassing thoughts for anyone to see! You continue to struggle against him, if only to register your complaint. “You’ve completely ruined this, I hope you’re happy, you insufferable--” He dips and catches your lips again, humming and silencing your insults with his kiss. For all your indignant protesting, it’s impossible not to melt against him, your hands that tried to push him away stilling against his chest before sliding up to meet behind his neck. When he finally breaks your embrace, you huff softly. “I can’t believe you.”

He’s smiling, but sobers slightly as you hold each other, his eyes just taking you in. “...it was a comfort to me, to know I was not alone in my affection… despite all my hesitation in admitting it. I did say I enjoy hearing you for a reason, lamb.”

You’re melting, but then your nose wrinkles. “Lamb?” Dark tilts his head.

“Pet?”

“Why all the animal names?”

It’s his turn to huff, then. “It seems I am not as skilled as Wilford when it comes to terms of endearment.” Your nose wrinkles further, the rotating cast of gushy names the mustachioed man throws around only making you wince with laughter.

“Please, no, I know you can do better than those.”

Dark puffs up a little at that, somehow pleased by the implication. “I’ll have to put my mind to it when I’m fresh, then. But for now…” He draws back, taking your hand into his, the other sliding up your back and into position. “Shall we?”

“Gladly,” you murmur, and he leads you in an altogether different dance.

#markiplier fanfiction #markiplier egos #ego fanfiction #darkiplier x reader #darkiplier #mad market pliers ramblings

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shushiyuii · 3 years

Text

Subject T0M au

This is an Au I’ve had stockpiled for a while wkakdnknak. It’s going to multiple parts too, once I get to working on those. If you have any questions you’re welcome to ask!

I hope you guys enjoy it (Also gimme your fucking requests UwU /lh)

Warnings: Experimentation, injury? And Horror elements (It’s mainly fluff i promise :3)

Words: 3K

Document – T0MMY1NN1T

Assigned to: Doctor Wilbur Soot Watson

Description: Subject T0M was once a [REDACTED] by the name of [REDACTED] [REDACTED]. His age is of kin to an elder teen, probably around the age of [REDACTED] to [REDACTED].

The appearance of Subject T0M is like a human, they have blonde hair and pale skin. Their most common height is 6’3 on average but can change depending on the form. Their face, arms and legs are covered in a black substance of unknown origin, it mainly takes on half of their body and appears to be almost liquid.

Their face is completely black, the only thing apparent is their fangs like a wolf when they open their mouth to feed, multiple fangs, the only other feature on Subject T0M’s face is their light blue eyes that glow in the dark.

Subject T0M isn’t very intelligent, they have some semblance of human intelligence, understanding simple language and commands.

They’re quite approachable as well but Subject T0M is to be approached with caution, as they could be quite dangerous. If angered there’s no knowing what Subject T0M is capable of.

Their abilities consist of being able to manipulate the material of their body, being able to change shape and size, their favourite is to mimic those around them. It is not an exact copy; it is apparent that Subject T0M is themselves because the material of their body will still be there even if they changed forms.

They can also create weaponry and different things from their material but again not exact copies, they’re quite harmless usually.

Subject T0M is to be assigned to Rookie Doctor Wilbur Soot. Under the watch of Philza Watson.

Entry 01 – 02/09/20—

So today was my first-day researching Subject T0M, from what I can say so far is that they’re quite interesting but so far besides the examinations, they haven’t shown much behaviour. Only staring at me from a distance.

Also, I’m not used to this sort of thing like writing documents and reports, not my favourite thing in the world but it’s not the worst thing either. So, Subject T0M already has a lot of his abilities recorded, I’m just here to see if he develops any noteworthy changes and watch over the guy.

Currently, there is no change in behaviour, he just stares down at me at a distance, like I’m the most interesting thing he’s ever seen, perhaps that’s the case?

He seems so lonely in that containment cell, it’s just an empty white box surrounded by glass, perhaps at some point I could request an upgrade to higher-ups for the lil’ fella? That way he can have a more comfortable place. Rather than a highly lit, bland, cold box.

Entry 02 – 05/09/20—

So Today, Subject T0M did something quite interesting, it’s a drastic difference from the last few days by just staring at me through the windows of the cells.

You see, instead of just watching me from the other side of the office, as usual, it can get quite boring in the office once you finish the days' assignments of reports, schedules, contracts and more and having to watch this guy and do the usual routine gets quite boring so I decided to work on some personal things and bring my guitar, so I could work on my songs, practising the guitar and stuff.

So, I played some things, the next thing I know is that one moment I’m singing, the next in shock as I look over in disbelief. Subject T0M had moved over towards the window, his hands and face on the glass, dead staring me in my eyes, they were filled with curiosity and interest like an infant listening to music for the first time.

A way to describe it would be that Subject T0M seemed so much happier, but when I stopped, he looked almost disappointed, I stared at him in amazement for a moment and I started to play again, and his expression went back to being amazed.

My music seems to interest Subject T0M so perhaps I should do more research and experiments with different kinds of music to see which they prefer?

Not only that but it’s nice to have someone rather than my dad that enjoys my music. They’re almost my second biggest fan. I’m looking forward to seeing more of this kid.

Entry 03 – 06/09/20—

As of now, I have started the experimentation of music with Subject T0M, he seems to prefer rather upbeat, pop music and general music.

I also played him some songs from popular games, one of them being The Able Sister’s from Animal Crossing, he really seemed to enjoy that one.

Besides the experiments, I’ve started to talk to Subject T0M as it does get lonely here, plus he’s the only other guy here in the department. Although he doesn’t talk, he’s a great listener, nodding whenever I state my opinion and even trying to communicate verbally from time to time, even though he doesn’t seem to have the ability to speak.

And I’ve also seemed to have started a habit of calling Tom or Tommy, it suits him! He’s also been showing more personality, he seems more aggressive like a gremlin but not in a bad way, he’s just displaying more emotion it seems.

Entry 04 – 09/09/20—

So, the experiments and communication of Tommy have made significant progress. He’s become feistier and more vocal, he’s not aggressive in a physical sense, just annoyingly loud. He’s like a fucking child.

And today was another experiment with Tom, with the test subject being myself since it seems safe enough, so need to gather others or security over it.

I entered his containment cell, and the moment I did, Tommy showed no difference in behaviour, to begin with, just a somewhat surprised expression on his face. Probably because this was the first time, he had seen me so close.

I carefully approached at first but then a thought came to me. So far I’ve been treating him like a human so maybe treating him the same way now would have the same effects?

I sat down next to him and started talking to him as usual, and he slowly started to move closer to me, cautiously. He seemed almost nervous, but his focus was on me, rather than himself. I found it rather odd, maybe something is wrong?

Again, he tried talking back but of course, it sounded like a fucking crack pipe, so it didn’t quite work. But he was talking and for some reason, it just brought a smile to my face.

I felt like an older brother would be a way to describe it, I made a promise in my head to protect him. We even tried singing together, it was a lot of fun, I look forward to spending more time with him.

Entry 05 – 12/09/20—

The past couple of days have been a lot of fun with Tommy like I’ve gained a friend. You see, growing up I was always a bit lonely, I was social, but I never found myself clicking with anyone because nobody had the same interests as me, so I turned to focus more on my studies, science in fact like my father told me too. And look at me now!

I’m a training researcher in the same facility as my dad, as this place is one of a kind opportunity, so I guess I got pretty lucky. And it seems Tommy agrees maybe, he reminds me of well me, I don’t want him to be lonely like I was, maybe I could arrange a meeting between other monsters?

Entry 06 – 14/09/20—

Tommy and I have been bonding a lot more lately and I’ve also improved a lot myself with finishing work sooner and taking up more assignments.

Speaking of which my father said if I keep this up, I may get more recognition in the facility, maybe even a promotion which I’m happy about. I’ve sent in a request to the higher-ups to allow Tommy communication of other monsters to which I hope they approve.

Besides that, I was talking to Tommy as per usual and he displayed a different emotion, excitement. He seemed eager to show me something and when I asked, “What is it?”. His form changed to be slightly taller and more of his black substance covered his body but after a while, his form changed to be similar to my own, he tried copying me.

Like physically. It was quite surprising if I’m honest, my shocked expression to Tommy made him realise the situation and immediately changed back and tried to reassure me, I felt bad and tried to reassure him it was okay. It’s funny to look back on.

Entry 07 – 15/09/20—

I got approval from the higher-ups, probably getting special treatment since my dad is one of the higher-ups, others aren’t normally so lucky. Dad, or should I say Doctor Philza? He said we could have a meeting between Tommy and his subject, R4NB00 or as he says Ranboo.

Dad said that his subject Ranboo does need to socialise more since he appears to have symptoms of social anxiety so maybe this will do them both some good since they both seem to be around the same age. Like Tommy, Ranboo only socialises with him and another subject T3chn0, or the blade, blood god. He’s got quite a reputation around here.

Anyways, I’ll say what I know about Subject R4NB00 as of his report, so I know to look over it in case of emergency.

R4NB00 is a tall humanoid standing above 8 ft tall. They have a black and white fur coat, a thin fur coat to be described as silky. Their coat is black on one side and white on the other, their hair is the same but in the opposite way to his fur.

They have heterochromia in their eyes, one being green and the other a bright red. They also have horns of small height; they aren’t sharp and rather small so they wouldn’t hurt anybody with them. They also have a thin tail, with it being fluffy at the end.

Subject R4NB00 isn’t the biggest fan of the regular attire assigned to all subjects, they rather wear a tuxedo embedded with the facility’s logos. They are also timid, avoiding conflict whenever possible. They also can speak but prefer not to due to being shy, they will only communicate with a select few.

Their abilities consist of having the ability to teleport at will and communicate in an unknown language. They also have weaknesses being unable to touch the water and having a state of mind of when they aren’t in control of themselves, they talk in their unknown language in this state and teleport randomly, they are to be awoken as soon as possible unless they are in this state for a test.

Report 16/09/20-- - Meeting of Subject T0M and Subject R4NB00

Today was the meeting of Subject T0M and R4NB00. Both were properly secured successfully and safely in transportation cells with the required security of 5 guards each in each truck and successfully transported to the meeting facility without stress or failure.

Both researchers were safely secured behind the required monitoring window.

The meeting was rather successful between the two creatures. To begin with, when the two saw each other they both maintained distance, for Subject R4NB00 it was because they were anxious about meeting another creature and for Subject T0M, meeting somebody else rather than their researcher.

Subject T0M was the first to contact Subject R4NB00 by trying to communicate verbally with them, it was unsuccessful and resulted in Subject R4NB00 being confused. The two sat in silence for a moment longer until Subject T0M attempted another move of contact by cautiously approaching Subject R4NB00, which resulted in them backing up into a nearby wall and trying to get away from Subject T0M.

Subject T0M then backed off and changed their form to mimic R4NB00, this is theorised to be Subject T0M trying to either comfort or entertain Subject R4NB00, they then changed back into their regular form.

Despite being confused, Subject R4NB00 seemed to notice that Subject T0M meant no harm and then tried to approach subject T0M. Subject T0M did not move.

When Subject R4NB00 approached, there was approximately 1 meter between the two, Subject R4NB00 looked at the two researchers to look for approval to which he got from Doctor Philza via a thumbs up.

Subject T0M curious looked to where R4NB00 was looking and noticed the two researchers and made a noise of happiness towards his researcher, to which Doctor Soot responded with a smile and a thumbs up.

Both Subjects looked back at each other and sat down beside each other. Subject R4NB00 began to communicate with Subject T0M, Subject R4NB00 introduced themselves and made small communication, to which Subject T0M responded positively too, as they couldn’t communicate back. After that, the meeting was concluded.

After their meeting, when asked about the meeting by their researchers. Subject R4NB00 responded positively to seeing Subject T0M again and talked positively about them despite not being able to communicate.

Subject T0M appeared upset a few moments after the meeting, scratching at the windows of his cell, whining. When asked if he wished to see Subject R4NB00 again, he responded positively. Another meeting between the two has been arranged.

Entry 08 – 17/09/20—

Tommy seems to miss his new friend quite a bit but it’ll be a while before the next meeting between them as it has to be approved again and it’ll be a while.

Doing our normal routine keeps him happy for a while but if I leave him for more than 15 minutes he begins to whine again. I wasn’t quite sure what to do as I couldn’t keep him company all day.

On my lunch break I talked to my co-worker Doctor Puffy about the matter, she’s a smart gal and rather motherly, she reminds me of my mom at times. She suggested that I give Tommy a gift, like a plush bear to befriend so he wouldn’t feel so lonely while I was gone.

So, I quickly made my way to a store, it was rather odd to see myself, an adult in a toy aisle but I found a decent plush. It’s a Minecraft spider plushie. I gave Tommy the plushie and introduced him to the plush, when I asked him what he wanted to name the plush he responded with a sound, it honestly sounded like he said shroud, so I suggested it. He responded happily so I guess we now have Shroud the spider.

Now I’ve got the peril of getting medication for my father as he’s somehow gotten sick.

Incident Report #19283 – 18/09/20-- -

No staff or other creatures were harmed during the containment breach, minor damages to the building, broken walls and broken windows within the cell. All to be fixed within a minimum of 3 hours. Subject T3CHN0 was successfully contained in a holding cell as we interviewed him as to why he breached containment, to which he responded that “Nobody told me where Phil was.”.

Doctor Philza was then contacted to talk to Subject T3CHN0 to explain his current predicament of being sick, to which Subject T3CHN0 huffed in response and refused to cooperate with us further.

Subject T3CHN0 escaped containment in a rampage, the reasoning being as he was not informed of his researchers’ location, as Doctor Philza was sick for the past two days before the incident. Both researcher and creature are rather close with each other, as to why the Subject was upset.

Prior to the incident (recorded by security cameras), Both Subjects of Doctor Philza were speaking to each other about the current location of their researcher, both concluded that neither of them had any idea of where the Doctor was, both subjects ask their temporary carer as to where their researchers’ location was, to which the carer wouldn’t respond so Subject T3CHN0 decided to find his answers.

Subject T3CHN0 broke through his containment cell’s window and then proceeded to break through multiple walls trying to find his researcher.

(The document then goes into detail about what T3CHN0 did during his rampage before he was contained)

During the rampage, Subject T3CHN0 broke through the walls of Doctor Soot’s office and his creature, Subject T0M. As Subject T3CHN0 entered the office, Doctor Soot was frightened at the unexpected visitor as tried to get away from the approaching Subject T3CHN0, Doctor Soot demanded that he get away, to which T3CHN0 huffed in response.

Subject T0M took some time to register that his researcher was in danger, but when he heard he did, he sprang into the action of defending his researcher.

His form changed into one of being described as fearsome, they changed heights to one over 15 ft tall, his hands turned into claws, long sharp fangs became visible, a sharp tail and pair of horns after appeared with this form. (Doctor Soot has been requested to do further research into this form)

Subject T0M roared in warning towards the other, then proceeded to pounce through their containment cells window, shards of glass scattered throughout the room.

They then ran towards their researcher and in a crouched position, picked up his fallen researcher and held him close to his chest, growling furiously at T3CHN0.

The two Subjects stared at each other for a moment until T3CHN0 began to communicate verbally by asking where his researcher was, Doctor Soot was too much in a state of shock to respond.

Subject T0M held his researcher closer and tried to comfort him in a way of purring, even nuzzling his researcher for a response, to which Subject T3CHN0 left due to being impatient.

Subject T0M continued to hold onto his researcher and eventually Doctor Soot snapped out of his state to stare in awe of Subject T0M, When Subject T0M saw their researcher responding he made worried sounds to them, to which Doctor Soot responded with a laugh and said: “I’m fine buddy”.

Subject T3CHN0 was then contained shortly afterwards.

#mcyt g/t #mcytg/t #dsmp g/t #sizeshifter!tommy #tiny!ranboo #tiny!wilbur #giant!tommy #giant!techno #tiny!phil #Shushi's writings #Subject t0m au

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spacexcowgirl · 4 years

Text

Worth Fighting For - G.W.

George Weasley x Reader

Summary: Y/N and her friends planned the perfect get away. The only thing not perfect? George and her broke up right before it was time to go. Now, they’re stuck sharing a room for one week and dealing with their friends trying to push them back together at every turn.

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: Brief alcohol usage, alludes to sex but no actual smut, mentions of cheating but no one actually cheats, kinda angsty but a fluffy ending. I don’t think anything else?

A/N: *gasp* and there was only one bed?? This is so cliche I don’t even care. I’ve posted two Fred fics, so it was time for some George love. Feedback always welcomed! Pictures are from Pinterest.

message to be added to tags :)

You stared at yourself in the dressing room mirror, adjusting and readjusting the straps of the short floral dress. Truthfully, the dress fit perfectly, but you still couldn’t seem to get comfortable. A frustrated sigh fell from your lips just before the curtain to the dressing room flew open, causing you to squeal.

“Give a girl some privacy, would ya?” You huffed once your eyes adjusted to Angelina’s beaming face.

“Oh please, you’re completely dressed.” She rolled her eyes lightly. “Speaking of, I love that dress on you.”

“Really?” You turned back once again, prepared to give yourself another once over in the mirror.

Angelina offered you a nod in response, then without a warning began to strip down to her bra and underwear and tug the maroon dress she had brought in over her head. You scoffed and averted your eyes, only to hear Angelina giggle softly behind you. Years of quidditch and changing freely amongst teammates had made her entirely unashamed. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for you.

Shyly, you faced your body away from hers and began to pull the dress off of you. The next thing you had to try on was a red bathing suit—one that Angelina had picked out, of course. When you had it fashioned on firmly, you gazed at yourself in the mirror. You looked good, like, really good. Still, you felt anything but. Another sigh left your lips, which seemed to be a recurring theme of the day.

“Maybe I just shouldn’t go.” You breathed out, meeting Angelina’s eye in the mirror.

“Uh uh, we are not discussing this.” She shook her head quickly. “You’ve already paid, it’s been planned for months. You’re going.”

“But it’s going to be so awkward!” You whined, finally turning to face her full on.

“You know George would never let things be awkward.” She argued as she placed her hands on her hips. You loved Angelina, you truly did, but you knew arguing with her always ended up pointless. “Besides, you’re really going to miss out on an opportunity to show off everything he’s been missing?”

Even if you didn’t want to admit it, she had a point. You were far from a prideful person, but who wouldn’t want their ex to see them glowing post-breakup? Maybe it was wrong, maybe it was some faulty bit of your brain that craved the validation of proving yourself to him, but you couldn’t help it. You bit down on your lip and pondered her words for a moment before eventually giving in with a roll of your eye.

“You’re right.” You muttered softly, avoiding her gaze.

“Always am.” Angelina quipped back. “Now, get changed and grab that swim suit and dress. George Weasley isn’t going to know what hit him after seeing you in those.”

It was a week later as you nervously picked at your cuticles to avoid eye contact with everyone around you. When everything had been planned, a group vacation felt like the much needed escape you had been longing for. Now, it was plaguing you with more anxiety than work or the general qualms of life ever could.

Angelina was at the front desk of the resort, checking everyone in and gathering the keys. The rest of you—which included You, Fred, George, Alicia, and Lee—were participating in a bit of small talk. Everyone but you seemed to have bright smiles on their face, excitedly awaiting what the rest of the week away would bring. Unbeknownst to you, George too lacked any sort of visible excitement, as his eyes couldn’t seem to leave your figure or the way you were partaking in that old nervous habit of yours. He hated to see you so visibly distressed, but what he hated even more was knowing that he was the cause of your unease.

“Got ‘em!” Angelina announced brightly as she returned to the group. In her hand, she dangled three room keys in the air.

You reached your hand forward to retrieve one right at the same time George did, resulting in the two of you brushing hands. You quickly withdrew your hand, and you didn’t miss the pained expression that crossed his face from you doing so. It made you feel awful, truthfully, but you couldn’t help it. You just weren’t prepared to be near him, to touch him, so soon.

“Eager, are you?” Fred attempted to lighten the situation, but you only could muster the energy to offer him a small grimace in response.

Angelina rolled her eyes lightly before handing you a key, then Alicia one, then tucked the final one in her pocket. Your brows furrowed at her actions, and you found yourself glancing anxiously between Alicia and Angelina.

“Why’d ya give me and Alicia both a key?” The question was somewhat rhetorical, because you feared you may already know the answer. Your stomach was in knots at just the prospect. “I just figured… We,” You paused to gesture between you and Alicia. “Would share a room, and George and Lee would share one.”

Of course, this trip had been planned long in advance, well before your and George’s untimely breakup. At the time, it had only been logical that you and George, and Angelina and Fred—the two couples—would have their own rooms, while Lee and Alicia shared one with two beds in it. You hadn’t thought to clarify the change in plans before coming, you had just hoped it would be obvious. There was no way you could share a room with George for a week when the wound of your failed love was still so fresh.

“Sorry, doll face,” Lee grinned at you. “But I don’t share beds. ‘m a kicker.”

“That’s fine.” You hurriedly shook your head. “George can just take Alicia’s single bed, and me and her can share the double.”

“Actually,” Alicia paused to let out a small cough. “Bad timing, babe, but I think I might be coming down with something. Wouldn’t want to get you sick.”

You narrowed your eyes at your friend. The two of you had known each other long enough to know that she was most definitely lying. Your mind was in overdrive trying to come up with the best way to nicely insinuate that she most certainly wasn’t sick, but George spoke up before you had the chance.

“I can just take the floor. It’s fine.” His voice was soft and there was an undeniable trace of pain behind it. Your eyes found his for the first time, and you felt as though your heart was breaking all over again.

The worst part about your breakup had been the fact that it wasn’t born out of some explosive fight or some lack of love. The two of you had just gotten too caught up in your own work lives and fell out of touch with communication. In the end, you both agreed you still loved one another, but you felt too far apart to fight for what you once had. You had both hoped to remain friends, but doing so ended up being harder than you’d expected.

“Alright.” Your voice was soft, just as it had been in the end. “That’s fine.”

With that, Angelina wordlessly lead the group of you towards the elevator. It was most of your first time spending so much time amongst muggle amenities, but Angelina had done her research. She had almost everyday of the trip packed with sightseeing and activities, all to give you the experience of what a true muggle holiday would be like. At about a year past the end of the war, this was exactly what all of you needed.

After arriving on your floor, you headed down the long hallway in search of your rooms. Lee and Alicia’s was right next door to Fred and Angelina’s, while you and George were across the hall from them. Silently, you turned the key into the door and pushed it open. You could feel George’s presence behind you, but neither of you could find the words to speak.

Once your eyes adjusted to the bright light spilling in, you let out a small gasp in awe. It was beautiful, truly. A bathroom sat to your left, but further in the room laid a queen-sized bed, a television sat before it, then large sliding-glass doors that lead you to a balcony overlooking the ocean. You sat down your bags and made your way to the door, unlatching the hook before stepping out and breathing in the warm, salty air.

“Bet they’re all jealous, we got the room with the view.” George joked lightly as he came out to stand beside you. You simply hummed in response, keeping your eyes trained outward. George let out a soft sigh before facing his body towards you. “Look, Y/N, I don’t want this whole trip to be weird.”

“I don’t want that either.” Your voice was quiet as you forced yourself to look at him.

“Then let’s just, you know, be friends for the next seven days. Like we used to be. If you want to go back to not speaking after, I completely get that. But can we just try, for now?”

You bit down on your lip as you weighed your options. Just being this close to him was excruciatingly hard, but what other choice did you have? There was no point in making things awkward for everyone else, or ruining the trip, so you’d have to agree.

“Okay.” You finally nodded and extended out your hand. “Friends.”

“Friends.” He grinned at you, that same signature grin that had always made your heart race.

Godric, the next seven days would be hard.

A little over an hour later, you found yourself on the beach with the rest of the group. You had put on the red swimsuit that Angelina urged you to buy, and had gotten a little bit of that validation you craved when George’s eyes widened at the sight of you. Now, though, all you could focus on was the pit of nerves forming in your stomach.

Number one on Angelina’s itinerary of things to do was paddle boarding. You had asked Alicia to share a board, to which she swiftly declined. Leaving you to share with George.

Although the place you had rented the boards from had given you instructions on how to stand up on the board and all of the safety requirements, it seemed almost no one listened. The group of you hadn’t even be out for more than five minutes before Fred was tumbling off of the board, effectively flipping Angelina into the water as well.

“You prat!” Angelina screeched when she breeched the surface. Fred was laughing uncontrollably as he tried to coax Angelina into his arms, which only resulted in her splashing him.

“Reckon we’ll be the best at this.” George spoke to you confidently. Before you could stop him, he was swiftly raising to his feet, causing the board to wobble slightly. You squealed, but ultimately calmed when the rocking ceased. “See? I’m a natural at this.”

“Think I’ll just stay down here for a bit.” You glanced over your shoulder at him. You were still on your knees, certain if you tried to stand, the two of you would end up in a similar situation as Fred and Angelina.

“Oh come on!” George whined. You looked up at him defiantly, only to find an ever familiar mischievous glint now in his eyes. “If you don’t get up, I suppose I could just…” And without finishing his sentence, he widened his stance and began rocking the board slightly.

“George!” You yelped, grabbing desperately to the sides of the board. “Fine, fine, I’ll get up!”

A triumphant grin found its way on to his face as you scrambled to your feet, doing your best to keep your balance. When you wobbled slightly, George’s hands found their way to your waist, steadying your movements.

“I’ve got ya.” He chuckled, causing your face to flush. You were thankful your back was now to him, because the last thing you wanted was for him to see the effect he still had on you.

To your left, Lee had now purposefully flipped their board as well. Alicia was fuming as she tried to hoist herself back up on the board, only to be slid back into the water from Lee moving it. You and George made eye contact as you watched your friends struggle, immediately bursting into a fit of laughter.

For about another hour, it went on this way. George never flipped your board, despite multiple teasing threats that he was going to, and for that you were thankful. When it was about time to turn the boards back in, Fred had the idea to race back to the shore. Unluckily for you, the twins were pretty competitive, so you had to take this seriously, for George’s sake. Lee and Alicia didn’t stand a chance, what with him constantly laughing, leaving you two neck and neck with Fred and Angelina. Just before you reached the shore, you got an idea. You paused your paddling and glanced back to wink at George, who was looking at you confused.

“Oh no, Ang, your bikini top came undone!” You shouted, clamping a hand over your mouth.

“What? No it hasn’t—” She was about to argue, but the damage was already done. Fred had faltered in his movements, quick to help—and probably ogle—his possibly exposed girlfriend. The both of them furrowed their brows and looked back over at you for an explanation, but it was too late, you and George had breeched the shore.

George was quick to scoop you up in his arms and spin you around once you’d both hoped off your board. You squealed triumphantly in his arms, ignoring Angelina and Fred’s protests that you had cheated.

“We always did make a good team, yanno.” George spoke up once he placed you back on the ground. You couldn’t deny the butterflies now swarming in your stomach, and you had to force yourself to look away from him to calm your nerves.

“Although that was most definitely cheating,” Fred huffed as he arrived on the shore. “Gotta give you points for acting, Y/N. Well played.”

“Thank you, thank you.” You dramatically bowed, a grin plastered on your face.

“What d’ya say we head back and get cleaned up before our dinner reservations?” Angelina suggested, to which you all agreed.

The boys began dragging the boards back to beach rental, while you, Angelina, and Alicia began to make your way towards the resort. They squished you in the middle of them, linking their arms with yours, before shooting one another small smirks.

“I know what you two are doing, you know.” You sighed. “You’re trying to get us back together. But it’s not going to happen.”

“I don’t know,” Angelina replied in a sing-song voice. “You guys looked awfully cozy on your board, and on the beach.”

“Because we decided to be friendly, for the sake of the trip.” You retorted.

“Mhm, I’m sure that’s all that was.” Alicia chirped in, a knowing smile on her lips.

You simply groaned in response. With whatever else these two held up their sleeves, you were sure this was going to be a long trip.

Two days later, the group of you found yourselves at a muggle festival. The air was cool and the crowds thick, but you couldn’t be more happy. You skipped excitedly ahead of the group, a bag of candy floss in your hands. The stuff was so sugary it hurt your teeth, but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

“Oh! Let’s go on that one!” Alicia pointed excitedly ahead of you, gesturing towards the large ferris wheel.

You all agreed and made your way towards the ride, tickets in hand. The line was long, but none of you had any problem waiting and chatting idly. When you guys were finally next in line, the worker asked how many were in your party, before ultimately informing you that it was four people per booth. Your stomach flipped as you saw a mischievous glint light up in Angelina’s eyes before turning back to the worker.

“Alright, it’ll be the four of us in one and the two of them in another.” She pointed to you and George.

You narrowed your eyes at Angelina, but ultimately knew there was no point in arguing and making a scene. The four of them clambered into the first booth while you and George waited silently for the next one. His hands were stuffed in his pockets and the distance between you was noticeable. The ride held pretenses for romance and alone time, and you were suddenly worried that it would be terribly awkward.

“Alright, in ya go.” The worker pointed ahead after the next booth came to a halt.

George held your hand to help you steadily step in before climbing in behind you. You both took a seat across from one another, unnervingly silent as you trained your eyes anywhere but each other. When the ride stopped again to let the next group of people on, George finally spoke.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say they’ve been trying to get us alone together.”

“You’re just catching on to that, are you?” You snorted, a small smile finding its way on to your face.

“I’ve had a guess ever since Fred said he couldn’t sit by you at dinner because the air was ‘too drafty.’” He grinned back.

“They truly are insufferable, aren’t they?” You giggled. “But you have to commend their efforts.”

“Yeah.” George hummed in agreement, idly glancing around as the ride began to move again. When he looked back at you, he had a devilish smirk on his face, one that told you he had an idea. “What d’ya say we get back at them?”

“What do you have in mind?” Your heart leaped at the idea of being reeled into one of George’s pranks for the first time in months.

George leaned forward and began to whisper in your ear, the smile on your face upturning as he revealed his plan. It was good, as his pranks often are, and you found yourself giggling as you nodded along in agreement. Certainly, this would get them off of your backs.

When your booth came to a halt and it was time to get off, you spotted your four friends waiting on you with smirks on their faces. You lightly rolled your eyes before turning your attention back to George and raising your brows, as if to ask ‘ready?’ He nodded in response, and your plan was set into motion.

“I cannot believe you, Weasley!” You screeched. All eyes were on you, which normally would have made you nervous, but the payoff for this should be significant enough to make it worth it. “You are an insufferable, selfish git!”

You climbed out of the booth and began marching away, but George was hot on your heels. The looks on your friends’ faces had quickly morphed into one of shocked horror and it was taking everything in you not to burst into a fit of giggles.

“And you’re a swotty know-it-all!”

“I don’t even know how I stayed with you for so long!” Once you were out of the way of the line, you paused to turn on your heels and point an accusatory finger towards him.

“Yeah? Me either!” He threw his arms in the air. “You always tried to make me the bad guy, even after you cheated on me with Garrick Ollivander!”

You shot George a bewildered expression, not expecting him to take that turn, but he slyly sent you a look that read ‘just go with it.’ Listening in, you could hear your friend’s horrified whispers from behind you.

“Y/N slept with Ollivander?”

“Isn’t he married?”

“Geesh, never would have guessed she was into older men.”

“Yeah, well, maybe if you actually knew how to pleas—”

“Guys! Cut it out, you’re making a scene!” Angelina swiftly cut you off and rushed forward, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You shot George a small wink before turning to face Angelina and the others, and you suddenly couldn’t hold it in any longer. Both of you burst into fits of laughter, only furthering your friends confusion. Fred seemed to be the first one to catch on, and he crossed his arms over his chest before rolling his eyes.

“Oh ha ha, very funny guys.”

“I’d say that was some of our best work.” You nudged George with your elbow before a few more chuckles left your lips. “Although, I’m not sure why—of all of the people you could have said—you chose bloody Ollivander.”

“He was the first person who came to mind!” George laughed, putting his hands up in defense.

“You really should be an actress, Y/N.” Lee grumbled.

You beamed at him triumphantly in response.

“Hopefully this’ll teach you lot your lesson to stop meddling.” You shrugged.

All of your friends grunted in agreement, still mortified by your outburst and the many eyes that had been on you. Still, you’d find that once their initial fears had warn off, they were far from stopping their efforts to push the two of you together.

The final days of the trip seemed to go by in a blur. You and George had taken to alternating between who would take the floor, which only seemed fair. The dread you had been filled with at the beginning of the trip had subsided significantly, leaving you extremely glad that Angelina had convinced you to come. Some part of you even thought there may be a chance you and George could be friends again when you returned home.

Additionally, each day the group had still made it their mission to get you and George alone in some capacity. Whether it be leaving you alone together on the beach, or heading to bed early so you and George would be left to retreat to your shared room alone, it didn’t matter. You couldn’t exactly complain, though, because now that the awkwardness had subsided, being in George’s presence lit something aflame within you. It was terrifying, the feelings you had worked so hard to leave behind, all bubbling up within you once again. Especially when you were so certain that he wanted nothing more than to be friends.

Which now left you the night before you were set to go home, slightly buzzed from the many flutes of champagne you had ordered from the resort’s open bar. Fred and Angelina were a lot more than buzzed, and you couldn’t help but giggle as you watched them sway dramatically on the outdoor patio, their lovestriken energy pulling a few other couples to dance as well.

Lee and Alicia had kicked off their shoes and were wandering down to the beach, leaving you and George, once again, alone. You hummed idly to the soft music playing, letting your eyes drift close as the sounds around you interchanged with the crashing of the waves. George had his eyes set on you, although you didn’t know it, and the smallest of smiles had found its way on to his face.

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol thrumming through you or the calming sounds of the ocean, but you suddenly found yourself wanting nothing more than to crash in the bed that waited for you inside. You let out a soft yawn, causing George to chuckle, before sleepily opening your eyes and gazing at him.

“Wanna head up?” He offered.

“I think I might.” You nodded, beginning to slowly stand. “But you can stay down here, I’ll be okay.”

“Nah, I’m ready to head for bed soon too.” George stood as well and offered his hand out to you, which you bashfully accepted. As the two of you walked off, you glanced back once over your shoulder, only to find Angelina and Fred silently cheering you on, goofy smiles alit on their faces. You brushed them off with a light roll of your eyes, but the sheepish smile on your face was undeniable.

Once you were back in your room, you quickly claimed the bathroom to change out of your dress and into your pajamas. When you exited the bathroom, you found George shirtless, his checkered pajama bottoms hanging low on his waist. The sound of you gulping caused his head to snap up and meet your eyes. Perhaps you were drunker than you thought, because you found yourself almost certain that you had seen him blush under your gaze.

To break the awkward tension, you hurriedly bounded towards the bed and jumped onto it while George pulled his shirt over his head. You patted a spot next to you, beckoning him over, which caused him to grin.

“Wanna watch something for a little?” You suggested as he sat down on top of the covers next to you.

He nodded in response, propping the pillows up behind him so he could rest comfortably against the headboard. You grabbed the remote from the nightstand and began flicking through the channels, entirely unfamiliar with muggle television and going completely by which title sounded the most interesting. You finally settled on The Silence of The Lambs—which you very quickly learned was not a lighthearted movie about the fluffy muggle animal.

It wasn’t long before you were under the covers and had them drawn up to your chin, completely terrified by the horrorific things some writer had thought to put in the movie. It wasn’t exactly a jump scare sort of movie, but it left you completely terrified and uneased. Still, you were too enraptured to change the channel. At some point you had put your hand down to help yourself sit up better, only to brush George’s hand beside you. You almost recoiled, but then his pinky was hooking around your own, and you thought better of it.

That was a friendly thing to do, right? It didn’t mean anything more. It wasn’t weird. It was just two friends, comforting each other in some small way during a horror movie, right?

The two of you stayed like that for some time, until the movie finally ended and you realized you’d have to put an end to your small touching. You clicked the screen off before another movie could start and bit down on your lip before glancing at George.

“You can sleep up here tonight, if you want.” You offered. “I mean, it is the last night and all. It only seems fair that we both spend it comfortably up here.”

“Right, yeah, that makes sense.” George nodded.

So with that you were flicking off the bed side lamp and finally pulling your pinky from his, prepared to get comfortable on your side. George turned on his side, as well, so that the two of you were facing one another. For a few moments, neither of you shut your eyes or spoke, you just gazed quietly. The soothing sounds of the ocean worked to calm the nerves in your stomach.

“Did you have a good trip?” George questioned softly, his eyes flickering over every inch of your face. You were bathed in moonlight, and he was certain he had never seen anything more beautiful.

“I did.” You whispered back, your eyes tracing his face as well. “I don’t think I want to go back to reality tomorrow.”

“Me neither.”

The two of you were quiet once again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt like the many nights, when things were right between you two, that you had basked in the absolute bliss of just being in one another’s presence. But now, you were friends. And friends didn’t stare at each other so intensely for so long. Just as you were about to speak up and point this out, he slowly extended out his arm and brushed some of your hair out of your face. His hand lingered there after he had tucked it behind your ear, then paused. It was like he was waiting for you to make the next move, to brush him off if that’s what you wanted.

But that wasn’t what you wanted.

So, you lurched forward and pressed your lips to his. He responded almost instantly, his lips molded against yours in that perfect way that only he knew how. His hand slid down from your face to rest on your hip, his thumb just barely brushing up under it and against your bare skin. His touch alone made you shiver, and you had to pull back briefly just to make sure this was real.

When you saw his eyes looking at you so softly, you decided that not even your best dreams were this good. It had to be real. So, you pressed yourself closer to him and kissed him with every emotion you held in you.

It wasn’t long before things progressed significantly, and it wasn’t until both of your clothes were completely forgotten that you found yourself internally questioning what you were doing, and what it meant. But as he pressed his lips to yours and whispered your name like it was the only thing in the world he was certain of, your worries melted away. At least, for tonight, you had each other.

You awoke the next morning with a pounding headache, the kind you always got after a few glasses of champagne. You found yourself wanting to groan, but stopped yourself when you realized you were wrapped up in George’s arms, still naked from the night before.

You sat up quickly, causing George to stir and groggily sit up as well. In his morning haze, he had a sleepy smile as he gazed at you, and it took everything in you not to reach out and fix his messy morning hair. Once he finally processed the immense worry behind your eyes, his mouth fell into a frown and he rubbed at his eyes.

“Something wrong?”

“Uh, yeah, George. I’d say something’s wrong.” You scoffed, quickly getting up to look for your clothes. “What the hell were we thinking? We finally got to a place where we were okay with being friends, and then we just completely destroyed it.”

He was silent as you picked up your discarded pajamas and began to tug them on. When you’d come across one of his articles of clothing, you’d ball it up and throw it towards him, feeling nothing but anger at your lack of self-control and at his charm.

“Godric, I’m so stupid. I should’ve never come on this bloody trip, I should’ve just stayed home. I spent so much time picking out the perfect outfits to make you notice me, to be something you’d miss, no wonder this happened. I—”

“You did what?”

You hadn’t even really processed your own ramblings, but his question caused you to freeze. You straightened up, your back towards him, and let out a soft sigh.

“You’re not over me.” It was clear he meant for it to be more of a statement, but the uncertainty in his voice almost made it sound like a question.

“No, George, I’m not.” You scoffed again, still unable to turn and meet his eyes. “And that’s why what happened last night should have never happened. I should have never put myself in a position to be hurt again.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice was soft. “I’ve never wanted that.”

You shuttered at his sincerity, but the sentiment did little to help. Whether he wanted to hurt you or not, you were hurting. And that may not entirely be his fault, but it was the truth.

“We should just pack up and go.” You spoke again after a few moments. “Everyone will be down in the lobby in a little bit anyways.”

“But I want to talk about this.” He pleaded, now standing to tug on his boxers.

“What’s there to talk about George?” You finally spun around, your hands thrown in the air. “Last night was a mistake. A colossal one. So, let’s just go back to how things were before we came on this trip, yeah?”

George looked visibly shocked by your words, so much so that he didn’t speak up. You stared at him for a moment longer before grabbing your wand from your suitcase—since you hadn’t used it since you got there—and began using magic to re-pack your bags. George seemed frozen for a moment, and it wasn’t until you stormed into the bathroom that you finally heard his voice.

“It wasn’t a mistake for me.”

You paused, letting the toiletries you were about to pack up clatter to the ground. Your grip on your wand loosened, then you slowly made your way out of the bathroom to look at him.

“It wasn’t a mistake.” He shook his head. “I’ve missed you more than I thought it was possible to miss someone.” He took a step closer to you, taking it as a good sign when you didn’t flinch away. “I know we thought splitting up was a good idea, but darling, we were so wrong. I’d rather fight for us everyday than ever try again with someone else.”

“You don’t mean that.” Your voice was quiet as you tried not to get your hopes up. “You just think that because of what happened last night, and because this past week has been fun. When we get back home, you’re just going to realize that you don’t want me again.”

“No.” His voice was soft as he now stood right before you and gently reached his hand out to cup your face. “I’ve missed you since the second we decided to call things off, and I know I should’ve fought for you then. But I’ll fight for you now.”

You trembled slightly at his words, but still you found yourself leaning into his touch. You wanted nothing more than to give yourself over to him, completely, but you were scared.

“You are worth fighting for, and I’m sorry I ever made you think differently.” His thumb traced up and down your cheek bone. “But I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me.”

There was a moment of tense silence as you squeezed your eyes shut, letting your nerves be calmed by his touch. Slowly, you reached your hand up and placed it over his own, before turning and placing a gentle kiss to his palm. Your eyes fell back onto him as he anxiously awaited your response.

“Okay. Let’s work on us.”

And before you knew it, you were wrapped tightly in his arms. You knew you both had a lot to work on to make things right, but you were ready for it. If it meant having him at your side again, it was worth it.

When you met the others down in the lobby, their faces morphed from slightly hung over grimaces to beaming smiles at the sight of you and George, hand in hand. Fred and Lee whooped while Alicia and Angelina shot you knowing smirks, causing you to lightly roll your eyes.

George offered to take your bags and load them in the taxi, leaving you for a moment alone with your two best friends. They waited, anxiously, for you to spill everything, but you didn’t want to just yet. For a little bit, you wanted what happened to be just between you and George. Still, Angelina nudged you with her elbow and grinned.

“You can always thank me later.”

TAGS: @theweasleysredhair @letsgotothehop

#george weasley x reader #george weasley #george weasley x y/n

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mqnasluvr · 4 years

Note

heya ! i heard you were new around here, could i request headcanons of enemies to lovers with kaeya and childe ? any pronouns are fine ! they’re so annoying i hate how i love them nevertheless,, thank you belladonna and take your time <3

enemies to lovers | kaeya alberich

pairings; kaeya x gn!reader

mentioned; jean

warnings; enemies to lovers but it’s pretty one sided, spoilers for kaeyas backstory, no beta we die like men, a lil bit of kaeya slander im sorry i had to, gn! reader

word count; 2k

a/n; where did kyquu go? :( i hope they at least see this.. i didnt finish childes part but i wanted to push this out as soon as possible. :(

kaeya

to put it simply, your relationship with kaeya was... tiring.

you had been close to kaeya and his younger brother for years, them being your closest and most trusted friends throughout part of your childhood and teenage years. but that all came to a halt when the former admitted to being a spy from khaenri'ah.

in no way or form did he expect for you two to forgive him— but actually seeing your broken and betrayed faces hurt him more than he thought it would, and the image still haunts him to this day.

you had separated yourself from the two brothers. although diluc didn’t do anything wrong, you didn’t want to pick between them ( even though you really should’ve ). that decision was too hard for you to make.

for years, you stayed out of touch with kaeya as he continued to climb the ranks within the knights of favonius, and you followed, much to your dismay. you worked hard to become a knight, and you weren’t going to quit just because of some bad blood between you and your superior. ( props to you for maturity )

he wanted nothing more than to reconnect with you, and maybe even diluc— but that was wishful thinking. diluc ragnvindr was a stubborn, hardheaded man, and getting past that exterior would be no simple feat.

so, he opted for ( not so ) subtly courting you— giving you the occasional wave whenever he saw you walking through mondstadt, offering to help you train ( although you declined every time ), and other small things. you question why he chose to do this now of all times, after half a decade of not speaking to each other.

you weren’t sure how to feel, but it made you agitated. not seething with rage, but it did annoy you to see his lazy grin whenever he walked into the angels share and saw you sitting in the corner of the room. it annoyed you whenever he did that stupid two finger salute before walking off, and archons, did it annoy you when he patted your shoulder after sparring as if you were the best of buds.

then why did your thoughts never stray from him?

that question, you couldn’t answer.

and so, you resorted to treating him like he didn’t exist. it was rude, but you couldn’t really think of anything else. avoiding him like the plague was the one thing you were good at.

as if things couldn’t get any worse, one of your worst nightmares came to fruition.

“jean, please. why can’t i do this mission with you? why... him?” you were basically at the acting grand masters feet, head in your hands and pleading up at the woman. she felt bad, but there was nothing she could do.

“i’m really sorry y/n. but i’m too busy with other things, and kaeya happens to be available. you know an ordinary knight wouldnt be able to take this mission,” her guilt worsened when you looked up at her with ( fake ) tears in your eyes. she kneeled to your height.

“i don’t know of your history with kaeya, but please, just put it aside for this one mission. it shouldn’t take you very long.”

jean helped you stand to your feet, the frown etched into her face growing deeper when she saw your shoulders slump. “alright, fine..i’ll try-”

“jean! have you seen y/n— ah, there they are,” kaeya waltzed in without so much as a knocking, making you jump in surprise and shoot a glare at him. he flashed you a lazy grin.

“speak of the devil..” you muttered.

“are you ready to go? we don’t have much time.” the mission you were assigned was to gain intel on what the fatui were planning. to get said intel, you had to sneak into a gathering held by the fatui. the dresscode was rather expensive— more expensive than anything you owned— so to help you out, kaeya took the liberty of purchasing an outfit for you.

kaeya dropped it into your arms. “change into this. don’t want to show up to a party wearing uniform, do you?”

“thanks...” your face felt warm from embarrassment, but you did have to admit, that was considerate of him.

he laughed and waved his hand, shaking his head. “let’s get going, yeah?”

—

you finished getting ready with the help of jean. she sent you one last apologetic gaze before walking you out the door, waving at you both.

kaeya didnt even hide the fact that he was checking you out. his eyes raked over your attire, before sticking his arm out for you to hold. “my, my, you look quite impressive, y/n. is everything suited to your tastes?”

you huffed and walked past him. “the corset is too tight, and the shoes are too small.” you were only half lying— the corset was a bit uncomfortable to move in, but he got your shoe size down to a T. how? you didn’t really want to know.

“if that’s the case, i can loosen it for you-”

“no.”

kaeya laughed it off, and you only grew more irritated. “come now, y/n. don’t be so stiff.”

“i am perfectly content with being stiff, thank you. now hurry up, i want to get this over with,” you muttered the last part.

you didn’t want to admit that you were struggling to take your eyes off of his attire. he was clad in a white suit with blue complimentary colors to match your own outfit.

you rolled your eyes. ‘of course he’d get us matching outfits.’

but, you didnt find yourself minding all too much.

—

the party looked like any other party— fatui agents littered all over the residence, along with guests in fancy clothing.

you tugged on your sleeve, feeling uncomfortable and out of place. but on the outside, yourself and kaeya blended in pretty well.

because kaeya was such a well known figure, he had to change up his looks a bit. no eyepatch, ( i know, so uncharacteristic ) and he used contacts to change his eye color to a darker shade.

he also put that disgusting rat tail away.

so he didn’t look completely different, but he looked different enough.

...the change was nice.

you couldnt help but feel watched though. but that was to be expected. even though you felt somewhat secure in this situation, anxiety rests for no one. it rested in the pit of your stomach dormantly, waiting for a moment to bloom.

looking around the ballroom, kaeya found people dancing in the middle. deciding that it was better to at least enjoy the party before leaving, he stood in front of you and held his hand out, bowing.

“may i have this dance?”

“who do you think i am-”

kaeya flashed you a cautious glance, head nodding towards a fatui agent who was keeping their eye on the two of you. holding back a sigh, you placed your hand in his. he grinned.

“thank you,” he said. you grunted quietly and held back a roll of your eyes as he dragged you to the middle of the dance floor.

“attention whore,” you muttered, feeling warmer as he placed his hand on your lower back and pulled you in closer.

“you wound me, y/n.”

“you deserve it. i wish i could slap you.”

he stayed quiet. maybe too far?

you shook your head. no. there was no way you we’re going to let yourself feel sorry for him when he was literally a spy.

but he feels honest enough.

sure, his intentions at first were.. questionable. but he’s changed for the better. kaeya has been in mondstadt for years now, and khaenri'ah fell ages ago. his love for mond shouldn’t be doubted for a second, even if he hides it quite well.

before you could look up and make sure your words didn’t hurt him too badly, he leaned down near your ear.

“we have to go.”

“what-”

“i’ll explain later, but we have to go,” he grabbed your hand and pulled you through the crowd.

you didn’t notice, but several of the fatui agents were watching you. you didnt change your looks as much as he did, opting to use simple touch-ups to make yourself more presentable. but it wasn’t enough.

“hey!” one of that agents shouted, and kaeya turned his head back to see how close they were. like he suspected, they were following gou. they pushed through the people, even going as far as knocking one man over, just to catch up.

you hurried your steps along with kaeya, almost sprinting to keep up with him. his grip on your hand was firm though. you two dashed up the stairs onto the third floor of the residence, where the bedrooms were. offices, libraries, bedrooms— they were all there. kaeya picked a random one and shoved you both inside.

it was a red themed bedroom, the lights dim with papers scattered along the desk on the other side of the room. “it seems we’ve gotten lucky,” kaeya joked, skimming over the papers. they were letters, between the fatui and some unknown source. kaeya stashed them in his jacket.

you didn’t understand how he could joke at a time like this. you still arent in the clear and you could hear rapid footsteps coming upstairs. “kaeya—!”

“you know how you said you wanted to slap me?” he said while tucking the last bit of papers into his suit. he didnt even give you a chance to answer. “you can, after this.”

you were confused, but when he backed you up against the wall and pressed his lips to yours, that confusion turned into anger, then more confusion, then understanding.

sighing when you finally caught on, he pulled your body closer to his and you wrapped your arms sround his shoulders. he tugged and nipped on your bottom lip, and if you didnt know any better your knees would be knocking. he was almost too good at this.

suddenly, an agent— a female one, this time— barged in. “have you— hey! take that shit elsewhere, lovebirds!”

kaeya hid your face in his chest, grinning lazily at the woman. his lips were swollen and his eyes were lidded. the woman blushed.

clearing her thoat, she held up a picture of you. well, moreso the back of your head. “have you seen this individual?”

he stared at the woman, then glaced down at you. “..sorry. i’ve been busy, i haven’t seen anyone of the sort. wish i could help,” he shrugged, and the ladies blush worsened. “o-of course..” she muttered, before closing the door and locking it.

kaeya snorted at the irony. he looked back at you, who was still touching your lips with your fingers.

“was i that good?” he chuckled, and caught your hand when you moved to slap him. his laughter died down and he looks oddly serious.

“y/n, we need to talk..”

“...no we dont,” you turned your back to him. he put his hand on your shoulder.

“yes,” he sighed. “we do. i know you didnt want to do this with me-”

“kaeya..”

“-and really, i understand. but i’ve changed, and i know you’ve noticed. i dont want you to hate me forever-”

“kaeya-”

“and you can’t-”

“kaeya!” you nearly yelled. he finally stopped talking over you. “i don’t want to talk about this right now. can you just drop it?”

“then when?” he narrowed his eyes. he laughed humorlessly when there was no reply.

kaeya’s eyes softened the longer you stayed silent. he gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you in for a hug. “...sorry.”

“could you please shut up,” you mumbled into his chest. he laughed softly.

“i know you’re wary right now. but all i ask for is a second chance,” he pulled away and hend your hands together in his. “...please.”

it was an odd sight, seeing him this vulnerable. then again, there was a good chance he was faking it to get on your good side but.. for some reason you found it hard to believe that. he looked truly sincere.

you groaned.

“you better not make me regret this.”

#i took inspo from a fic i read on tiktok... ill try to find the original creator #kaeya x reader #kaeya x reader genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kaeya x y/n #kaeya x you

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elysiadjarin · 3 years

Text

Sword and Shield 3

Summary: Bad Batch x reader (you), fem!coded, poly!relationship, multi-part series, nonhuman!reader, Echo later on

Chapter 2: https://elysiadjarin.tumblr.com/post/653202473626025984/sword-and-shield

Warning: Mentions of previous abuse/trauma, and an injury.

3: Integrate

Nervously, you bit your lip and tugged at your hair. You’d secured it so it would stay out of your face for the mission, and you’d already gone over the notes you’d taken the previous day as you’d gotten ready for the day. Dressed in your gear, you double-checked that you had everything.

The whole crew had gathered in the cockpit while approaching the mission site to receive orders from Hunter.

“Tech, tell them the layout and strategy.”

Tech adjusted his goggles and pulled up a holoscreen. “Our mission is to obtain some information that’s been stored in a vault underneath this Separatist bunker,” he said, pointing at the map. It zoomed in on the bunker’s location, revealing the armored doors.

“It’s only going to be there for one day before it’s supposed to be moved, so we have to move in on this intel as soon as possible,” Tech continued, laying out the stakes. “This might be our only chance to get our hands on his information, especially since this base is out in the middle of nowhere. It’s held in the base, but there’s not much of a guard around the bunker itself.”

“So how are we getting in?” Wrecker asked, clearly eager to get to the plan.

“The biggest problem is going to be getting in. Once we’re in, it’ll be a quick and easy trip to the vault. There’s a holopad right by the doorway. I need a running distraction to let me get close enough to hack it and get us in.” Tech adjusted his glasses.

“Cross will find a point to pick off whoever comes in and out of those doors,” Hunter spoke up, focused on piloting while he listened. “Wrecker, we’re going to need you to try to run as big of a distraction as possible and keep them occupied. Tech will get close to the door, and I’ll follow behind him as close as possible to watch his back while he’s hacking the keypad.”

Tech turned to you, observing you. “We don’t know much about your skills yet. Do you see a place that would best suit you?”

You thought for a moment, eyebrows furrowing as you ran though the plan in your mind. “I’ve studied the footage and information you gave me yesterday,” you said, slow but even. “Considering the way we’re approaching this, I think I should be most useful if the Sergeant uses me as a weapon. Since I’m versatile and can be changed depending on what the situation requires, the close combat might be best for me. Plus, once we’re in, I might be able to help clear a path.”

“Sounds like a solid plan,” Hunter said crisply. “Hold on, we’re entering the atmosphere.”

Everyone grabbed onto something or strapped in as the descent began, and you grabbed onto a hanging strap, bracing your feet. You caught sight of Wrecker turning to you, and you glanced up at him instinctively.

“Oh, hey, thanks for the food yesterday!” he called over the rattling, grinning so wide that you swore you could count his teeth. “It was really good!”

The comment took you off guard, and you had to grab onto another strap to keep yourself from sliding against the floor. “Y-you’re welcome,” you called back, feeling some heat creep up your neck and cheeks. You supposed that answered your question about whether they’d at least found the portions.

Hunter evened the ship out as you broke through the atmosphere, leveling out and beginning to more smoothly descent. Everyone relaxed again, checking gear and preparing for the landing itself.

You took in a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment in order to mentally prepare yourself. You’d have to create a Transference Bond with the Sergeant, so it would take a moment. You only opened your eyes once you felt the landing gear hit the ground and the ship settle in landing.

Hunter stood once the process was complete, turning. “Let’s go.” Once at the ramp, he turned to the group. “Gear and Plan?” He checked. Running his eyes over everyone and getting their confirmation, he turned to you. “Commander Rex explained a little of the process of Transference Bonding to me to give me a basis of understanding. I suppose it wouldn’t be the best idea to do it all at once.”

You shook your head. “I could, but it’s easier to do it one by one to give me a distinction between each Bond,” you answered, knowing the importance of explaining how you worked.

He nodded. Taking a breath, he held out his hand to you. “I suppose it’s time. Everyone watch and listen closely for when you have to do it yourself,” he ordered.

You nodded back, straightening. “You have to offer your hand and say ‘Permission to Transfer.’ It begins the process for me to able to start Transference.”

Hunter stared at you, focused. “Permission to Transfer,” he repeated in a firm, even tone.

You let the sensation of the sucking whirlpool in your gut start to grow stronger, stirred by the initiating words. Deliberately, you reached out and grasped his hand. “Once I finish the initiating words, you’re going to feel a strange sensation like you’re absorbing something into your body. Don’t fight it, just let it happen so I can stabilize the connection,” you warned. “If you feel anything like a weird snap or push in the back of your head, that’s just the Bond solidifying.” You took in a deep breath. “The more open you let yourself be towards me, the stronger the connection.”

Hunter nodded in understanding.

You closed your eyes. “Transfer Granted,” you said, finishing the circuit. Again, you worked through the suctioning sensation, allowing your body to Shift into a basic form you knew very well. Opening your eyes once the sensations settled, you checked the Bond and stability of your connection.

Hunter had been surprisingly receptive compared to most first-time Handlers, and you found the Bond to be pretty sturdy all things considered. As soon as you feel comfortable, getting used to the new Handler, you let yourself materialize over his shoulder.

“I usually start out with a standard blaster,” you said, your voice a little wispier than normal as you pointed at the blaster in his hand.

He stared down at the weapon, turning it over in his hands. “I can hear you both out loud and like... like an echo in my head,” he remarked, voice a little terse.

You nodded. “It’s part of the Bonding. You can communicate with me out loud, but in cases when silence is required or for quick-time response, there’s a limited mental connection created. You can either speak in words or visualize, whichever comes more easily to you. That’s also how you can customize me as a weapon, by visualizing or describing to me the specific modifications that you want,” you explained, used to the process by now. “I don’t read your mind, you have to sort of... push them towards me, in a sense. It’s a limited connection,” you added, knowing the trepidation of the idea of someone possibly being able to read your mind.

He relaxed a little at that, and a blurred image started to bloom in the back of your mind. You tilted your head, and slowly the image started to crystallize as Hunter got used to the Bond and the communication. You picked up on the request, and between one breath and the next, you had Shifted into a modified blaster specifically balanced to his preference.

You took in a breath. “Please be patient with me,” you requested. “It takes me a little while to become completely accustomed to your particular fighting styles in order to best accommodate to your strengths. It may take me some time in the beginning.”

Wrecker bent forward, squinting at you. “Hey Shiv — I can call you that, right? — why do you look so... blurry?”

Tech adjusted his goggles. “It’s more like she’s a shadow, Wrecker,” he remarked clinically, observing you closely. “I think it’s the only way she can manifest herself since she’s technically the weapon itself.”

You nodded at him. “Tech is right. It’s kind of my astral form,” you confirmed.

“Cool!” Wrecker grinned at the general vicinity of your face.

“Alright, let’s go,” Hunter said, starting down the ramp and off towards the direction of the base.

You mentally picked apart the details of the modified weapon he’d shown you, making sure your copy of it was exact down to the weight and size. You tried your best to recall all the footage you’d analyzed the day before, specifically the patterns you’d noticed and highlighted about the Sergeant. You’d have to try to accommodate yourself to his movements and attempt to predict his preferences in weaponry and how he chose to utilize it. That way, you could start to make your performance seamless and save precious nanoseconds of response time that could mean the difference between life and death.

He glanced down at you, feeling the slight shift in the weight as you adjusted. A distant voice sounded in the back of your mind. If I wanted to change weapons, how would I ask?

You strained to hear. Project a little more towards the area you feel like the Bond is. You coached. You’re a bit faint.

He repeated the question, and it sounded much clearer and louder.

Thank you. I can hear better. The best way is to either mentally request it, or to visualize it again like you did to modify this blaster. Whichever is easier for you. You responded to his question.

I tend to visualize things when thinking. Hunter said. I think that’s how it’ll probably come across.

I understand, you acknowledged. After all, different people worked differently. Luckily, you’d worked with both visualizers as well as stream-of-consciousness, full word or sentence thinkers. I’m only limited by the amount of information you give me. I can Shift in nanoseconds, but if you don’t make sure to specify everything, it might be incomplete or a little different than what you wanted. You warned.

He nodded wordlessly, just as you came up to the clearing where the base was. The planet itself was rather forested, and the base had been set in the middle of a small clearing, half-hidden from above by the tree canopy. You briefly wondered how much intel had been needed in order to even find this place, much less know when and how long the intel would be shipped through this base anyway.

Two guards stood by the door, holding electro-spears with blasters at their sides. You didn’t doubt that there were probably more stationed within the base as well that would probably stream out like a disturbed ants nest once a confrontation began.

“Alright,” Hunter hissed lowly, gathering everyone’s attention. Cross, find a spot. You’ve got three minutes. Wrecker, get ready to run distraction. Yes, you can blow the ground sky-high for all I care, just make it big enough and keep their attention for as long as you can. Tech, get ready to slip around once Wrecker has them occupied.”

A sudden idea occurred to you. Cloaking shield. You whispered to Hunter, sending across a visualization of your possible contribution.

He instantly pounced on the idea. “Shiv is going to create a cloaking shield, get over here,” he hissed to Tech, who stepped closer to Hunter’s side. “We’ll use this to get as close as possible. If our cover’s blown, I’ll back you up.”

Tech nodded, pushing the visor of his helmet down in preparation. A minute later, Hunter nodded. “Let’s go.” He motioned to Wrecker.

With a booming laugh that you swore rattled through your currently nonexistent bones, Wrecker took a running leap into the clearing and slammed his fists into the ground. Chunks of earth went flying, and just as expected, the two armored guards started to run towards him. As soon as Hunter decided they were distracted enough, he motioned decisively.

You Shifted, creating the cloaking shield large enough for both him and Tech to fit under. Hunter started to move around the edge of the clearing, trying to stay a bit away from the flying rubble as Wrecker pulled out his grenades. You tried your best to keep monitoring, materializing over Hunter’s shoulder in order to keep eyes out for the flying rubble that might cause you to lose concentration if it hit the shield too hard or unexpectedly.

“How long can you hold it?” Hunter hissed, trying to stay quiet but let Tech in on the conversation.

“As long as nothing directly damages or hits me, as long as you need,” you whispered back. “But I expend more energy the larger of a weapon or shield that I am required to be.”

He nodded, helmet focused forward. You’d almost reached the doors, and the doors had cracked open to briefly allow backup to wriggle through.

“There’s going to be a risk,” you warned them as you reached the keypad. “I can’t hide the fact that the keypad is going to disappear from view or be tampered with. If anyone notices, the cover is blown.”

Hunter nodded. “Tech, you know how fast you can work. Concentrate, we’ll give you cover.”

Tech nodded, instantly pulling out some gear and hooking himself up to the keypad.

Hunter started filtering information to you about various weapons and their modifications he preferred to use, and you started instantly absorbing the information. To your surprise, you found that his visuals were extremely detailed, to the point that you almost started feeling them yourself. Everything in his head felt so much... crisper. So much more. You realized that it did make sense, considering his heightened senses. Everything would feel that much more to him, so it would naturally be transferred to you, especially considering your Bond.

Send me your Instincts, you whispered to him mentally.

What?

You let your astral form float a little in front of him, then pointed to his hands. Push across every instinct that you can towards the Bond. Channel them straight to me. Let your thoughts and instincts flow straight through the Bond, like a stream rushing by.

Hunter glanced at you, keeping an eye out for the distraction Wrecker was running. Crosshair had begun to snipe them down one by one, you vaguely noted. What does that do?

You started to feel him direct towards you, trying your best to accommodate and map out the way his instincts were honed. I am a living weapon, Sergeant, you reminded him. If a weapon could understand your instincts and become a part of your body, an extension of yourself, able to work with your thoughts in real time, what would you do with that? How would you shape that weapon and use it? I am a tool. I am a weapon, under your control. Please use me. This is my job.

Sometimes, the words felt like betrayal, coming from your own mind and mouth. Even though you knew you had worth, were more than just an object, you also knew that your part in this war and what you fundamentally were as a being was... a weapon. A weapon to be utilized to devastating effect. To kill, or to protect... to shield, or to destroy.

I am a weapon. You are a Handler. I will be used however you decide.

Hunter’s eyes hardened as he glanced at your form, and you felt his fingers tighten around the handle of the cloaking shield. But he said nothing and continued to funnel everything like a rushing stream into the Bond.

Tech hissed. “I’ve got it.”

The doors slid open, revealing an empty hallway.

Hunter stepped forward. “Get in, now, before anyone notices,” he barked.

Tech and Hunter quickly stepped in, heading down the corridor.

Blaster, Hunter requested.

You Shifted, allowing the cloaking shield to disappear. The three of you crept down the hallway, Tech leading the way as he glanced down at the map of the base he’d managed to strip. He fiddled with his controls as he led down the twisting hallways, opening doors as necessary.

“The intel holding should be just past this door,” Tech whispered tersely, holding his device up to the blast doors. The infrared picked up several life forms, and when he switched to x-ray, a couple of droids showed up on the screen.

“Those are assassin droids,” you whispered urgently, recognizing the shape and build.

Hunter nodded grimly. “Tech, once the doors are open, go for the others. We’ll handle the droids.”

You leaned toward Hunter’s ear. “Weaken the head plates and use a vibro-shiv to get to the cores,” you whispered, knowing how those droids worked. You’d lost Handlers before thanks to the stupid droids and their required close-combat.

Hunter nodded, and the doors started to open. As soon as they’d opened wide enough, Tech followed Hunter’s nod and slid around the corner. They both started to shoot at the same time. A few of the organic soldiers dropped thanks to getting caught in crossfire from the assassin droids, and Hunter started to target the head plates of the droids.

You quickly picked up on his flow of movement, correcting for precision aiming and knocking plates loose from the droids. Three of them started converging on you, and Hunter shouted at Tech.

“Get to cover!”

In a heartbeat, you’d Shifted into the vibro-shiv and he’d slashed at the wiring under one of the droid’s loose plates. It started to stagger, some of the support lost. Kicking out at the other, Hunter quickly managed to incapacitate the other two enough to slash at their wires as well. It didn’t take long for them to stagger about, losing some of their motor functions.

Tech found an opening and managed to nail one droid right in the exposed core, downing it in a shower of sparks. Hunter sank the shiv into another core, but you’d already caught sight of the last droid starting to point its blastered hand.

Hardly thinking, you bulked the weight of the vibro-shiv and made Hunter drop at the unexpected weight, barely missing the blast that went over his head. You returned it to normal a second later, and Hunter whirled on his heels close to the ground and threw.

You pointed the shiv with deadly accuracy, making it sink directly into the center of the exposed core. The droid froze, shuddering. For a moment the whole room seemed to freeze as Hunter and the droid faced off. Then the droid crumpled with a screech of metal, collapsing on the floor. The shiv shuddered.

Hold out your hand, you whispered to Hunter.

He held out his hand, and the shiv whipped back into his hand as you returned yourself to him. His hand closed over the hilt, and it shifted back into a blaster.

Tech had already scurried over the vault and was quickly working on it, fingers flying over his cracking device. Hunter turned toward the door, pointing the blaster and keeping an eye out.

“Thanks,” Hunter said gruffly. “Back there, with the third.”

The thanks caught you off guard. Why would he thank you? I... It’s my job, was all you could really think to say, thoroughly confused. You were a weapon. Why would he thank you for doing what you were literally born to do?

A flash of anger traveled through your Bond, and you instinctively shrank away though it passed just as quickly as it had appeared. Why would he be angry? Had you done something wrong? Had he not wanted you to correct it? Would it have been better if you’d done it differently?

You tried to refocus, knowing better than to get distracted now. The mission was still underway.

You heard the vault click behind you, then a quick rustle. Tech’s footsteps faltered, then squeaked against the floor.

“We need to go!” he shouted, beginning to sprint. “The vault was rigged! This place is going to blow in T-minus two minutes!”

Hunter had automatically followed Tech, but his pace quickened. “Tech, we’re not going to make it,” Hunter called grimly.

And he was right. It would take you longer to get out than that. There were so many twists and turns. You thinned your lips, materializing over his shoulder.

“Grab Tech,” you said, already Shifting. Hunter lunged forward towards Tech, grabbing him as he threw you down and jumped. You guided yourself to catch both him and Tech as a hoverdisc. A joystick grew from the base, and Tech unquestioningly grabbed it, beginning to guide you down paths so quickly that you barely had time to register any surroundings.

You rounded a corner, and Hunter shouted something. The doors had begun to close. But Tech just hunched over, and flicked a button you provided on the joystick.

“Hold on!” Tech yelled.

You Shifted, closing your eyes in order to concentrate, get it right, there wasn’t room for hesitation or error, you knew this, you could do this-

Heat seared your senses just as you managed to throw up both a shield and the proper mechanics that you’d studied so diligently and meticulously.

You screamed.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that you were flying through the air, the Transference forcefully Dissolved. But all you could really pay attention to was the pain that burned through all of your nerves and senses. The moment you felt yourself hit the ground and roll, all breath was knocked out of your lungs.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you wordlessly clutched at your arm, unable to make a single sound. You knew this had been a risk, the moment you’d done it. You’d only managed to put up the shield just in time to save Hunter and Tech from the blast approaching behind you, but it had been incomplete in your hurry to both throw it up and blow the doors open.

You’d been distracted. And now you were paying for your own mistake.

A half-strangled sob burst from your lips as you peeled your hand away from your arm, digging your hand into the soil underneath you and jacking yourself up. You’d taken damage from the blast, and just as you’d known would happen, it had Transferred to your physical body as well. After all... you were a weapon. And every weapon gets dents and scorch marks in battle. But you knew you were meant to take it. You’d always known you were meant to be the shield for your Handler.

Someone skidded to your side as you hunched over, trying to breathe through the pain. If you could just-

“Maker,” a voice snarled.

Vaguely, you half-registered the voice as Hunter’s. You scrabbled back, throwing out your good hand. “Don’t touch me!” you sobbed out, begging, praying that he wouldn’t touch you.

“Shiv, you need medical attention-“

“Please, don’t touch me, you don’t understand-“ you managed to sob out, shaking and hunching over.

“What happened?” Crosshair’s voice growled from nearby.

“Shiv-“ Hunter’s voice barked.

But you staggered to your feet, trying to just focus, you needed to focus- your ears rang. Gritting your teeth, you forced yourself to push. You were a weapon. You did not fail your Handler. You got back up. You took the consequences, you will take the pain, you will do your kriffing job-

A shuddering gasp tore from your throat as you felt yourself begin to work. You could feel the numbing ice of cold gunmetal creep up your mangled arm, could fairly smell your hissing flesh as you covered your arm slowly but ruthlessly.

Numbness. You barely felt anything, now, except for a vague pressure on your arm. Letting out a half-broken sob, shuddering, you reached up and smeared tears away from your face. Looking up, you caught sight of all four of the Bad Batch gazing at you with varying expressions of horror or concern.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling dizziness start to descend. Everything started to spin. “I’m sorry, I’ll- I’ll fix it-“

As everything tilted, the last thing you saw was someone’s hand reaching for you.

Part 4: https://elysiadjarin.tumblr.com/post/654625612928008192/sword-and-shield-4

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jimakuchan · 4 years

Text

And They Were Roommates...

Part Fifty

The village of Gaipan was a sleepy town, surrounded by a gorgeous landscape filled with some of the tallest redwood trees Zuko had ever seen. If it weren’t for the stressful situation he found himself in, he might have taken a moment to appreciate the beauty of the sun sinking into the horizon amongst the tree tops.. but unfortunately now was not the time to take in the wonders of nature around him.

“Uncle would be so disappointed” Zuko thought to himself. Iroh always chastised him for not appreciating the little things in life, but everything happening right now was not a little thing. It was a very big thing. A possibly life changing thing was about to happen to Zuko, and despite the pep talk Aang and Sokka gave him, Zuko’s leg was shaking from nerves. He could feel his hands clamming up, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was clenching his fist, and his entire body was on edge... waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The entrance to the camp sight was just around the corner, and Katara was taking her time with driving on the uneven dirt road. It took everything within Zuko’s power to not yell at her to speed up. His friends were here doing him a favor, he needed to be patient. He took a deep breath in, holding it in his lungs, relishing in the burn before he let the air escape out his mouth. Memories of the text conversations running rampant in his head, the fear that he was too late sitting comfortably in the forefront of his mind.

“Just stay calm, everything will be alright” Zuko heard his mother’s voice in his head, but it felt like a lie. How long had he been lying to himself? About his feelings towards Y/N, his family, his friends, Spirits his life? Everything felt like it was spiraling out of control. What was that exercise Aang taught him again? In for four out for four? Mindfulness? Zuko couldn’t remember and frankly didn’t really care to at the moment.

“We’re here” Katara’s voice echoed throughout the SUV. Zuko felt it then, the drop. His stomach was swirling inside of him and he felt the bile rise up his throat. It was now or never. Zuko felt so sure of himself when he sprinted outside of the apartment earlier today, where did that energy go?

“Are you okay man?” Sokka placed his hand on Zuko’s shoulder, a reassuring touch that he so desperately needed. It grounded Zuko, and he started to believe the lie his thoughts told him moments ago.

“Yes” Zuko replied, Sokka furrowed his brows but didn’t comment on it any further.

“Okay then let’s go!” Sokka’s face broke out into a wide grin, how he managed to stay so calm and collected all the time was beyond him.

“Yea go get your girl Sparky!” Toph shouted from the middle seat. Zuko looked around at the faces of his friends, hope filled all of their eyes. He wished he could have an ounce of their faith. With a deep sigh he exited the car, taking his first step in the dirt and looked at the campsite around him. The rest of the gaang followed suit soon after.

“Do you know what cabin she’s in?” Suki asked as they were walking towards the small campsite. A litter of log cabins surrounded the large fire pit in the center. It was a pretty decent place for a corporate retreat, something Zuko might even consider doing in the future. That is, if this all ended well. He didn’t think he could handle visiting the place where he was painfully rejected within a business setting.

“Not sure I just know it’s the women’s cabin. I’m sure we could ask someone.” Katara answered. She sounded sure of herself, but the way she was fidgeting with her bag gave her away. She was nervous too, and that’s when it dawned on him. Jet. The bane of their existence was here, and Katara hadn’t seen him since he caught him cheating on her with Y/N. Zuko admired her bravery. He had talked this out with Y/N, how much what Jet did to them hurt her, but he didn’t dwell on it too much with Katara. The possibility of running into him must be bothering her. Aang must have picked up on Katara’s nerves too, because he went to go hold her hand and kissed her cheek. Katara smiled at the gesture, and Zuko hated the jealous feeling that crept into his gut.

He wished he could be that way with Y/N, to hold her hand and kiss her cheek when she was feeling down. Did they know the gift they possessed? To be unapologetically affectionate with each other? They must know. Zuko could see it when they looked at each other. He just hoped that he could have that in his future with Y/N.

“Over there! That’s Y/N’s cooler on the porch!” Zuko looked to where Suki was pointing. The cabin to the far left of the fire pit must be hers. The bright red cooler filled to the brim with stickers sat neatly next to the front door of the cabin; he could see the bright yellow EI sticker she bought from Ember Island on the front. Before he even realized his feet were moving, Zuko sprinted towards the cabin. He nearly tripped on the rickety steps on his way in. With a bit too much of his strength, Zuko slammed open the cabin door.

“Y/N?” Zuko shouted inside. The cabin itself was decent, four beds lined the back wall with a wide window separating each pair of beds. The bed next to the window had Y/N’s duffel bag resting at the edge of it. A kitchenette was to the right, filled with the snacks Y/N bought for the trip. To the left was a small table with a few chairs, Y/N’s travel mug sat on top of it in the center. Yep, this was definitely hers.

“She’s not here” Zuko nearly jumped out of his skin from the voice that sounded too close to his liking. He turned around to see a short woman with a blunt bob haircut. Her bandana was slipping off her forehead nearly covering her eyes, where she wore an annoyed expression on her face. Smellerbee.

“Where is she?” Zuko asked mirroring the other woman’s annoyance. He didn’t have time for small talk.

“You think I’m going to tell a total stranger the location of my coworker? You must be dumber than you look.” Smellerbee responded with a huff. Zuko narrowed his eyes at the small woman in front of him. If this was any other circumstance he would have been grateful that she was protecting Y/N, but at the moment Zuko only felt rage.

“I’m Y/N’s roommate and I need to talk to her. It’s important.” Smellerbee looked at Zuko like she’d rather be anywhere else than where she was, and it was really testing his patience.

“She left to go to the lake with Jet awhile ago. You follow that path behind the cabin and it’s a straight shot.”

“Thank you” Zuko brushed passed Smellerbee and ran towards the path, nearly knocking into his friends in the process. He could hear the shouts of his friends behind him, but Zuko didn’t pay any attention to them. It was like he had tunnel vision as he ran through the trees towards the lake. The wind whipped through his long dark hair, sweat forming at the tip of his brow. The trees blurred together as he raced down the path. If Zuko was paying better attention he might have noticed the rustle in the bushes to his right, but he wasn’t paying attention at all. So when he collided into the hard body in front of him, Zuko was knocked flat on his ass.

“Spirits watch where the hell you’re going!” Zuko could recognize that voice anywhere. That arrogant tone only belonged to one person, and it was the last person on Earth that he wanted to see.

“Jet” Zuko gritted out through his teeth.

“That’s my name don’t wear it out” He responded with a curt laugh. Jet stood up and brushed the dirt off his pants and extended a hand to the man on the forest floor. Zuko took it as Jet helped him to his feet. He might hate the guy, but he didn’t want to give Jet the satisfaction of knowing his mere presence bothered him to no end.

“Where’s Y/N?” Zuko asked, aggravation flooding his voice. Jet didn’t respond at first, and just stared at him. He eyed Zuko up and down, as if to size him up. Jet just laughed again, and Zuko was one step away from punching him in the nose.

“Oh wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I don’t have time for your bullshit Jet, just tell me where she is” Zuko took a step forward, towering over Jet’s figure. He took great satisfaction in the gulp Jet took when he did. “Good” Zuko thought to himself, “I hope you’re nervous you fucking prick.”

“I’ll tell you where she is...” Jet paused, and Zuko’s patience meter dropped to a near zero. “Eventually...”

“You will tell me now. I’m not taking no for an answer” Zuko clenched his fists, ready to force his way past Jet if he was going to waste his time.

“Let’s have a chat first, man to man. It’s been long overdue...” Zuko was about to walk past him when Jet grabbed onto his wrist. “Besides... I have some information you’d want to know concerning Y/N”

Zuko could feel his heart sink at such a simple statement. Information. He knew that Jet couldn’t be trusted, but Zuko couldn’t resist his curiosity. He turned around to face the man he loathed, a smug look painted his face as he dropped Zuko’s arm.

“You have 2 minutes, don’t waste it” Zuko crossed his arms across his chest, waiting for the other man to speak. Jet tilted his head towards the fallen tree off the side of the path, beckoning Zuko to follow. The silence was thick as they both sat on the rotting tree, rays of remaining daylight peaking through the trees that surround them. It was eerie, how quiet it was. Just the whistling wind around them to break up the unforgiving silence.

“I know you hate me, but I just want you to listen for a bit. Then you can be on your merry way” he began, Zuko just stared waiting for him to continue. Jet took a deep breath, fiddling with the toothpick between his teeth. Gross.

“I just wanted to apologize to you, for what I did. It was fucked up and I’m sorry” That... was not what Zuko was expecting, his eyes widening in surprise. So this was what he wanted to discuss?

“I was.. an angry person back then. I felt like you’re family personally ruined mine. To be fair I was right, but it was just your dad. Not you. It wasn’t your fault that your dad and his company evicted my family. Hell he kicked out his own son, why would he care about kids from the projects?”

Zuko remembered the day Jet found out who his father was. Before then they were friends, two boys pissed at the world and the cards they were dealt in life. They use to sneak out at night, and roam the streets; stealing booze from liquor stores, smoking pot in parking lots, and just relishing in the feeling of being young and angry. Zuko felt that Jet was the first thing that was his and his alone. Jet chose to befriend him, not out of obligation because of his sister, at least that’s what he felt at the time. They shared secrets in the dark, with only the neon lights of the city keeping them company. Yes, Zuko never told him who is father was, but he did tell him a lot of the abuse he faced. How he was afraid to come home and face his father’s wrath. How he used to wish for anything to stop the pain. He cried in front of Jet that day, and Jet held him and told him he felt the same. That all changed when Jet found out about Ozai. He called Zuko to come out like normal, but instead of the promise of cheap thrills he lead him to an alleyway and beat the shit out of him. Zuko held his own, and eventually got the best of him, but the price of winning the fight was losing his best friend. He told himself he’d never forgive him for what he had done that night, and now the same boy, now a man, is next to him once again with the sun setting around them asking for forgiveness.

“Fuck man you were my best friend.. and I threw it all away for what? Something completely out of your control? Because of someone you hated as much as I did? Losing you is one of my biggest regrets.. close second is what I did to Katara and Y/N” Jet hung his head low, his shoulders tense as he hunched over. Zuko didn’t know what to say at that moment, stunned into silence. He understood what Jet was feeling, succumbing to anger is much easier than processing other emotions: sadness, guilt, pain. Over time the anger just becomes a part of you, and it lashes out. Jet didn’t have anyone to help him move on from that like Zuko did.. he was alone.

“I’m so fucking sorry Zuko. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness.. like I don’t deserve Y/N’s.. but I want to try and be better. I know my apologies and promises in the past have been empty and hallow.. but I can’t keep doing that shit anymore it’s exhausting” Jet looked at Zuko then, his eyes shining from unshed tears. Jet was asking for forgiveness now, like Zuko had done many years ago.

“I forgive you. For what you did to me..” Jet visibly deflated, finally releasing the breath he had been holding in, his body sagged in relief.

“I don’t know if we could ever be as close as we were before... but if you’re willing to try I am. On a few conditions...”

“Name it”

“Stop acting like a total ass to Y/N. That shit needs to end” Zuko requested.

“Done”

“You also need to apologize to Katara, she’s one of my closest friends and I can’t be friends with you if you haven’t done that. She won’t forgive you as easily as I did, and she may never do and that’s her right. You still need to though, it’s what she deserves.” Jet visibly shivered, an angry Katara was a terrifying sight, but he nodded in agreement nonetheless.

“And finally you need to tell me where Y/N is” Jet laughed at this, but it wasn’t the smug laugh he used before. It was genuine this time.

“She’s sitting at the dock by the lake, at least that’s where she was when I left her.” He nodded and put a hand on Jet’s shoulder, the two men shared a moment of peace before Zuko went to stand up. Before he walked away Zuko turned to Jet and put out his hand, his way of extending an olive branch to the man he once called his best friend. Jet accepted it with a smile and they shook on it, what ‘it’ was neither of them knew.. but it was something. Change? Moving on? Something along those lines.

Zuko was the first to let go and turned to walk down the path, the sun light fading quickly. Before he got too far Zuko remembered he had one more thing to ask.

“Hey Jet!” Zuko shouted, Jet turned around surprised.

“What?” he shouted back.

“You’re not dating Y/N again are you?” Zuko questioned, he needed to know before he made a complete fool of himself in front of the woman he loved. Jet let out a full belly laugh, nearly folding himself in half. Zuko quirked an eyebrow, unsure of what was so funny.

“Is that why you hauled your ass out in the middle of nowhere? You thought I made a move on her? Nah I wanted to apologize like I did with you. As if she’d ever take my ass back.” Zuko sighed with relief, but before he turned around Jet spoke again.

“The only bones she wants to jump are yours!” Zuko felt the heat rise to his cheeks, a smile growing on his face. He only hoped Jet was right as he ran further down the path towards the lake.

As Zuko ran towards the lake the smile never left his face. He couldn’t ignore it anymore, Y/N definitely felt the same as he did. He could do this, he could finally tell her how he felt. With newly found confidence Zuko ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He could see the lake through the trees, he was close, so close to her. One more turn and he’d be there.

When he finally made it to the small beach surrounding the lake Zuko whipped his head around desperately trying to find the dock. It was getting dark, both the sun and moon shared the same sky when he saw it. Saw her.

Y/N was sitting at the edge of the dock, her feet dipped in the inky black water beneath her. The golden light of dusk shined on her hair as it swayed with the wind, her skin glowing as if she was made of stained glass. Zuko took a moment to admire her from afar as she sat blissfully unaware of his presence. He slowly walked towards her, gathering every ounce of courage he had.

“Y/N!” Zuko yelled out as he got closer to the dock. Y/N jumped, clearly surprised at his sudden outburst.

“Zuko? What are you doing here?” Y/N asked as she pulled her feet out of the water. She slowly stood up, trying not to put too much weight on her bad ankle.

As Zuko got closer he thought about what he was going to say to her. He thought about how she took his breath away when he first laid eyes on her, how her smile lit up her face. He thought about all the little things he loved about her, how her nose scrunched up when she laughed and when she was annoyed. How she liked to dance around the apartment in her pajamas when she was stressed out. How she put way too much much sugar in her tea, and how she cried when she watched videos of baby ducks. He loved how much his Uncle loved her, his friends, and even though she would never admit it, his sister as well. He loved how she was patient, not only with others but with herself as well. He loved that she knew how to bring the best out of him, and how she was the reason he reconnected with the gaang. In such a short amount of time she became one of the most important people in his life. He wanted to tell her all of this and more.. but instead he said:

“I brought you the bracelet I made you” Zuko reached into his pocket and fished out the friendship bracelet he made with Kiyi. It was a pathetic little thing really, the pattern was inconsistent and the knots at the end were way too big, but he made it for her because he loved her.

“You came all this way... to give me a bracelet?” Y/N asked, her head tilted to the side in confusion. Zuko wanted to smack himself, he barely even started and was already failing miserably.

“Um no that’s ugh, not the only reason” Y/N was looking at him waiting for him to continue. Zuko could feel himself drowning. “Why is this so hard? It’s simple. Three words. I. Love. You. Wait should I say I’m in love with you instead? Y/N says I love you to her friends all the time. What if she says I love you back but she means it in a friend way? I don’t mean it in a friend way. Shit I’ve been quiet too long. Say something you fucking idiot!!”

“Zuko are you alright? Are you coming down with something you’re really red” Y/N raised her hand to feel his forehead but Zuko caught it. She furrowed her brows together, her eyes piercing right through him as he stood their awkwardly holding her wrist. The sky was turning dark, the only source of light was the moon that rose above them. It was late and he was wasting precious time.

“Fuck it” Zuko said as he dropped her arm taking a step towards her, closing the insufferable distance between them.

“What are you talking abou-” Y/N was interrupted with the feeling of Zuko’s lips on hers. It was chaste, but not without feeling. Instantly Zuko melted into it, her lips were as soft as he imagined so many times before. The skin on her cheeks felt warm under his hands where he gently held them, but before Y/N could even register what was happening Zuko pulled himself away, gracefully resting his forehead on hers. Zuko opened his eyes to see Y/N’s eyes blown wide in surprise,

“I’m in love with you. Spirits, I’m so in love with you Y/N” Zuko wished he had a camera then, because the look on Y/N’s face he wished he couple capture forever. He tried to memorize the details of her face, the way her eyes sparkled in the star light, the little gasp she let out that he could taste on his tongue, but most of all he wishes he could capture the smile she gave him. It fit her so beautifully in a way that only she could. She let out a little laugh, the one that made her nose scrunch up in the way he adored.

“What took you so long?” Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed all over his face, every inch she could. She kissed his lips, his cheeks, his nose, his eyes, his scar, his lips, his lips, his lips, over and over again until they were both gasping for air. Y/N’s heart was so full she felt as if it would burst at any moment.

“In case you couldn’t tell, I love you too Zuko” Y/N giggled in between kisses. Zuko wrapped her arms around her waist pulling her closer to him. Even then he felt it wasn’t close enough. Zuko slowly felt his way up her back, trailing his fingers up her spine, touching her in the way he always wanted to. One arm remained tightly wound across her waist, while the other caressed the base of her head. Y/N gently moaned at the feeling and Zuko swallowed it. He wanted to take everything she was willing to give, nothing more and nothing less. Zuko wondered if she could feel his heart pounding in his chest, as Y/N wondered the same.

They were in their own little world, completely oblivious to everything around them. Zuko and Y/N weren’t paying attention to the fact that they weren’t alone anymore. Neither of them heard the splash towards the other end of the dock, or cared to notice Sokka flailing in the water with Katara standing above him looking very pleased with herself.

________________________________________________________________

A/N: FIFTY CHAPTERS AND THEY FINALLY KISS!!!!! CAN I GET A HELL YEA!!!!! This series is my baby and I'm so beyond thrilled that we made it!! I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter 💕

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