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iriswords · 2 years

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Febuwhump Day 12 - Can you hear me?

You can also read this on ao3 and find the rest of my febuwhump fics here

tw: blood and injuries, self-esteem issues, implied past emotional abuse

Fandom: Batman

Words:

Tim has been caught by the Riddler and is forced to play one of his games. He talks to himself as he progresses, certain the comms don't work. On the other end of the line, the Bats hear everything.

Tim hates the Riddler. He used to like the man, used to find him clever and funny, even, but all past appreciation for him is now gone. He pounds against the door for what must be the dozenth time, screaming at the Riddler to let him out. As if that would get him somewhere. It is a commonly known fact that villains never do what heroes ask them. There would be no villains and heroes, otherwise.

“That’s of no use, birdie,” says the Riddler over the speakers in the room. “We’ll proceed to the next part once you’ve calmed down a bit.”

Calmed down a bit? Tim has more than enough reasons to be angry. Not only did he let himself be captured like a fool, and by the Riddler, of all people—Tim has way too many things to do to spend any amount of time trying to solve riddles—but he also sees no way out. The Riddler placed him in a box of a room, with two locked doors. One he entered through. The other has yet to open.

Tim slumps against the wall and lets himself slide to the ground. The Riddler left him in nothing but his suit, stripped him of anything that could have been useful to his escape. He even took the cape. On his leg, a dark stain grows slowly where Tim was stabbed earlier in the night by the Riddler’s goons. It hasn’t hit anything dangerous, but the bleeding doesn’t show any sign of stopping on its own, and Tim has nothing to stop it with. Carefully, Tim prods at his ribs, which he cracked two nights ago and told no one about. They haven’t gotten worse, but they could use some rest. Unfortunately for them, it doesn’t look like they will get it any time soon.

Tim taps against his comms to activate them. Just like the times he tried before, he gets nothing but static.

“Red Robin to Oracle,” he tries anyway. “Can you hear me?” Silence is his only answer. “The Riddler’s got me, and I’m not in the mood for playing his games.”

“Rude,” comes in the Riddler’s voice over the speakers. Tim ignores him.

“Oracle? Can you hear me?” Still nothing.

At the same moment, a pastel blue gas whirls out of the airway. Tim instinctively reaches for the rebreather in his belt and remembers he does not have his belt or his rebreather anymore.

“What is this?” he hisses at the room, hoping the Riddler is still listening and inclined to answer him.

“I’ve paired up with Scarecrow,” says the Riddler casually, as though this was no information worth mentioning. “He’s decided to expand his horizons and test other aspects of the human mind. As a fellow intellectual, I could only agree.”

Tim would rather he hadn’t agreed. And what does ‘expand his horizons’ even mean? Knowing Scarecrow, it cannot be anything good. Tim holds his breath until he cannot anymore, then lets the blue gas infiltrate his lungs. It doesn’t taste like anything, so far from the acrid taste of fear toxin, like terror on your tongue warning you about what is to come.

Tim waits for the effects, tense as a wire. They do not come. The Riddler gives no indication as to whatever toxin this is functioned or not. Instead, the second door slides slowly open.

“You may proceed to the test,” says the Riddler, and Tim figures he might as well indulge the two villains. If they are satisfied, they could even let him go. He gets up, wincing when he puts too much weight on his injured leg and walks to the door.

Tim steps into a giant labyrinth, stretching over the whole ground floor of what looks to be two joint warehouses. That the Riddler even managed to pull this out without getting caught is a testimony of Gotham’s police failure—and the vigilante’s failure, too, because they definitely should have found out about this sooner—but what is done is done.

“Are you out of creativity?” asks Tim out loud.

“Don’t judge my piece of art too quickly, birdie. You may be surprised. All you need to know is that there are no rules. But if you do something I don’t like, you’ll be punished. You’ll know the exit when you reach it.”

Perfect. Just. Fucking. Perfect. Tim has not had nearly enough coffee to deal with this. It looks like he doesn’t have a choice.

Before going into the labyrinth, he tries his comms again and receives no more answer. He decides to let them activated, in case they come back to life suddenly, and steps into the labyrinth.

—

“Red Robin to Oracle,” says Red Robin, and Barbara’s attention shifts from Batman to Red Robin. “Can you hear me?”

“Clear as day,” answers Barbara. “Where are you and what’s going on? We lost your tracker.”

“The Riddler’s got me and I’m not in the mood for playing his games.”

Barbara snorts. “Who ever is? Do you have any useful information to make it easier for me to track you down?”

Tim doesn’t answer her. “Oracle?” he calls. “Can you hear me?”

“I can hear you very well, Red Robin. Do you know where you are?” No answer. “Red?” Barbara sighs and switches to Batman’s line again. “B, we’ve got a problem.”

—

As was to be expected, the labyrinth is filled with traps and riddles. Moving walls and hidden goons waiting to take him out. Tim defeats them all, though not without sustaining further injuries. His left wrist is broken, and his leg is minutely getting worse. He leans on the walls of the labyrinth as he stumbles through it, panting, his mind sluggish from the pain. He fights back the strange urge to cry that has been rising in him for the better part of his journey in the labyrinth.

“I wonder if they’ll notice I’m gone,” he says to himself in a surprising bout of honesty. “Or how long it’s gonna take them.” No one answers him. The silence around him is suffocating. He keeps talking, the words tumbling out of his mouth without his consent. “Maybe they’ll assume I’ll get out myself.” He gives a strangled, bitter laugh. “Well, that’s not gonna happen anytime soon.”

Minutes have stretched out into hours, and each riddle takes Tim more and more time to solve. Every time, frustration builds up in him and tears burn his eyes.

“Maybe they won’t care. Mom and dad wouldn’t have.”

—

“Red Robin, can you hear me?” asks Oracle for the thousandth time in the past three hours, since Tim asked for help. And just like those past times, she receives no answer. Everyone is back in the Cave, ready to roam the city as soon as she gets a hint as to where Red Robin is kept. But the Riddler was clever this time, for not even she can find anything leading to Tim. She will, eventually, she knows she will, but the question is, how much time is it going to take?

“I wonder if they’ll notice I’m gone,” echoes Red’s voice through the speakers in the Batcave. Everyone freezes. Apart from a few pained grunts, it is the first thing Tim has said in hours. “Or how long it’s gonna take them.” Barbara exchanges a confused look with Dick. Is he talking about the Riddler and his goons? Has he escaped them?

“Maybe they’ll assume I’ll get out myself.” Barbara frowns as the words start to make sense. Over the speakers, Tim laughs darkly. “Well, that’s not gonna happen anytime soon.”

“Is he—” starts Jason.

“Talking about us?” finishes Babs. “Yeah, I think he is.” Silence falls over the Cave. Babs shares the sentiment. Why would Tim think they wouldn’t notice or come for him?

“Maybe they won’t care. Mom and dad wouldn’t have.”

By her side, Dick makes a wounded noise in the back of his throat. Uneasiness grows in Barbara’s chest. They are not supposed to listen to this.

“Red, can you hear me?” she tries again. Tim doesn’t acknowledge her.

—

Tim continues to talk to himself, in a desperate and not entirely controlled attempt at distracting himself from his impending doom. Pain shoots up from his leg every time his foot brushes the ground, and he nearly face-planted three times in the past minute. He rounds a corner and finds himself at a dead-end. Tim chokes on a sob.

“Why are you doing this to me?” he cries to no one. “I just wanted a calm night. Just one fucking night away from assassination attempts and near-death experiences. Is that too much to ask?”

The Riddler doesn’t answer him. Tim sobs harder, and he doesn’t understand why, all of a sudden, all his emotional control, so good usually, is so thoroughly shot.

“Am I really that fucking insufferable that no one wants to keep me around?” The words fall from his mouth without his permission. “Maybe mom and dad were right when they said I was impossible to love.” Maybe everyone was right when they tried to leave. Maybe he should stop clinging to them like a pathetic leach and just remove himself so they won’t have to. Maybe, maybe, maybe—

The tears stop as abruptly as they came, Tim’s chest heaving from the remnants of sobs. He dries his tears with a shaky hand and pulls his mask back on. Whatever this episode was, he’s glad there was no one around to witness it.

—

“Am I really that fucking insufferable that no one wants to keep me around?” asks Tim, and Babs clenches her jaw. She doesn’t dare glance at Dick, still by her side. She knows what she’ll see. Eyes full of tears, cheeks red and wet, face distorted by sorrow. She knows he blames himself, and she also knows he isn’t entirely free of blame. But she cannot comfort him, not when she can barely swallow around the lump in her own throat. The Cave fell into an uneasy silence when Tim first started crying, the sound so unusual to all of them. Tim is all cynicism and calculated boredom. He does not cry.

“Maybe mom and dad were right when they said I was impossible to love.”

Dick lets out an audible sob and curls up on himself, a hand clasped tightly over his mouth. Babs risks a glance at the rest of the Cave. Bruce’s face, bare from the cowl, has twisted into a constipated expression, his way of conveying regret and sorrow. Cass hovers silently by his side, twitchy in a way she usually never is. Farther in the Cave, Jason is pacing, hands fisted in his hair. As his body turns toward her, she catches a glimpse of bright, unnaturally green eyes. Damian, for his part, is rooted to the spot near the Medbay, wide eyes fixed on the speaker. His expression is a careful mask, but Babs can see the way his hands shake slightly where they hang limply at his sides.

“Red,” Barbara tries once again. She cannot help the way exhaustion sips into her voice. “Can you hear me?”

—

Tim misses the goon who comes out of nowhere and misses the bat swung at him. He does not dodge and does not defend himself. It hits his temple full force, a skull-shattering blow that sends him sprawling to the ground. He lands on his broken wrist and the pain rips a howl from him. His vision whitens out for a moment, and he comes to panting and sobbing, cradling his injured wrist to his chest. The goon is nowhere to be found. Tim should be glad, he guesses, that they didn’t stay around to beat him up more.

He straightens up with difficulty, dizzy from the blow, the pain, and the blood loss. His breath itches with silent, uncontrollable sobs. Tim tries to get to his feet, but his knee gives out beneath him and he falls back to the floor. He curls up against the wall of the labyrinth, all of his resolve gone.

“Please,” he whispers to no one. He has never felt more like a child. “Please someone, just come.”

In his head, Jane Drake scoffs disdainfully.

—

“I have an address,” announces Babs. Bruce, who has been anxiously pacing the Cave ever since Tim cried out in pain, turns abruptly towards her, already putting his coal back on.

“Where,” he growls, more order than question. The second Barbara gives him the address, Bruce is gone, closely followed by his sons.

“They’re coming, Red,” says Barbara into the comms. No one answers her.

@febuwhump

Part 2

#my writing #creative writing #fanfic #fanfiction #whump #febuwhump2023 #febuwhumpday12 #dc #batman #batfamily #tim drake #hurt tim drake #tim drake whump

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bokukawas · 4 years

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two sides of the same coin

pairing; Itadori Yuuji x Reader (x Sukuna, at least kinda/implied)

warnings; i didn’t proofread this at all lol

a/n; woke up this morning with this imagine in mind so naturally i had to get it out of my head

summary; cuddle time with your boyfriend makes the monster come out... only he doesn’t seem that scary to you / seriously this is just a little something, don’t expect much of this

word count; 1,9k

Your boyfriend, Itadori Yuuji, leans heavily against you as soon as you open the door to him. Pressing his face into the crook of your neck and moaning dramatically as he puts his arms around you to squish you against his broad chest and puts even more of his weight on you. Snorting you stumble a step back, arms reaching around him to steady both of you, with little succes as you keep stumbling back because he was a beefy guy and you had trouble keeping him upright.

“Yuuji, what are you doing, you’re heavy” you huff as you stagger another step backwards, his face never leaving your neck as he sighs again.

“’m tired.” Came his nuzzled answer against your collar, leaving goosebumps in his wake as his hot breath tickles over your exposed skin.

“I can tell. C’mon then, I have dinner ready for you.”

You maneuver your boyfriend to your shared kitchen and sit him down on a chair so you have your hands free to get his food ready. He watches you with big tired eyes the whole time, exhaustion making them droop and close from time to time, seemingly without him even noticing it. He looked cute, as usual, a little disheveled, but still utterly cute and a warm feeling spread in your chest again as you watched him slowly stuff his face with what you prepared for him, munching happily, but slowly. Another indicator at how exhausted he must be, you thought to yourself. Usually the food would be gone in little to no time.

“Can we watch a movie now? I want to cuddle.” Your simple approving hum was answer enough for him. Instead of waiting for you to clean up, he wraps his arms around your middle as soon as you were close enough to him and carries you to the living room as if you would weight nothing. Well his inhuman strength sure came in handy sometimes.

Gently putting you down on the couch, he hands you the tv remote, before flopping down on you entirely, arms going around your hips as he snuggles his face into your lap. Another sigh leaves his lips, this time sounding very content as you tenderly run your fingers through his hair. You chuckle.

“You don’t even want to watch a film, you just want to be cuddled, am I right?”

“No, but you can choose the movie.”

“Liar. You don’t even have your eyes open.” You laugh as you poke his cheek. “Such a big baby.”

“Mhh don’t stop.” He grumbles when he couldn’t feel your fingers comb through his hair anymore.

Absentmindedly you just put on a random documentary on Netflix, focus never leaving your boyfriends face. Or what you could see of it anyways, as he had it mushed against your thighs.

“Hard mission today? Want to talk about it?” you ask as you continue to run your fingers through his pinkish hair, grazing your nails along his neck exactly how he likes it.

A first approving hum and another declining hum vibrate against your legs and you smile fondly down at him. It has been a long time since he last came home this exhausted. At times like this, you were actually happy that he had the king of curses residing inside of him. Sukuna surely would intervene when it got dangerous enough, making sure Yuuji, and therefore he himself would survive.

Continuing to gently caress your boyfriend, you start thinking again. It has been some time now since Yuuji had last lost control and let Sukuna emerge. It also usually happens when he was as exhausted as he currently was: when he was letting his guard down.

And sure enough, as your fingers trail down his neck, scratching at his scalp before slightly massaging his muscles you could see them: faint black lines appearing all over your boyfriends body. They disappear just as quickly when Yuuji moves a little, readjusting his weight on you, making it even easier to access his neck just how he likes it.

Soon enough his breathing evens out again, chest lifting and falling slowly, drooling a little as he drifts off for real this time. Black lines appear again all over him. Smiling, you trace your finger along one of them, noticing the little shudder the man tries to hold back. Humming, you continue to caress your boyfriends face and neck. Your smile only grows as time goes by, so when finally a red eye pops open on your boyfriends’ cheek you snicker.

“Who would’ve thought that the king of curses likes to be babied as well…” you mock, as you gently run your finger below his eye, pulling it quickly away when a mouth appears to snap at it.

The man currently in your lap was not your boyfriend anymore and you knew that. Of course you did. As soon as the markings appeared he was gone, yet you just knew Sukuna wouldn’t hurt you. When this switch had happened the first time without Yuuji noticing, you had freaked out and poked him hardly, which woke him up instantly and made Sukuna disappear in a matter of seconds. He was just as freaked out as you were about it then, so you had kept it a secret that it had happened after that again. And again.

So now, when 3 more red eyes stared up at you as he lifted his head a little you only sigh, but run your hands through his hair nonetheless.

“Rough day for you as well, hm? You’re not very chatty today.”

Sukunas much deeper voice rumbles against your thighs as he rests his head there again and whines. “I think I was the only one having a rough day. The brat nearly got himself killed…again.”

Stopping your ministrations, you fix your eyes on his face and wait for him to elaborate. When he does not, you pull at his hair a little. “Could you please explain how my boyfriend nearly got himself killed…again!?”

“Did I tell you to stop?”

“What?” you ask confused.

He lifts himself up again, giving your hands a pointed look, making you groan. “You’re so demanding.”

“I’m the king of curses, you should do as I say or you’ll die.”

“Oh shut up, you were literally drooling in my lap two minutes ago.”

“I wasn’t, the brat was. I could kill you right now.”

Rolling your eyes you shove your hands back into his hair a little rougher than necessary, pulling on strands of his hair as he still didn’t tell you what happened. “Tell me or I’ll stop again.”

Your leg heats up as he exhales against it slowly and then starts telling you what happened. Yuuji was a decent fighter you knew that, but you also knew that one of his weak points were his friends and loved ones. And today that had proved to be the problem.

“I had to grow back his whole arm,” he complains. “If I hadn’t switched with him he would have bled to death right there.”

Your hands falter again. So it had been really bad today. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to tell you about it. “Hey honey, I nearly died today, how was your day?” Goosebumps raise on your arms as you imagine how the day could have gone if Sukuna had not meddled. Instead of your tired boyfriend coming home to you, a random worker from jujutsu tech, telling you he died. Or even worse, one of his close friends coming to deliver such a horrendous message. You involuntarily shudder.

“Don’t worry, he’s fine.”

Cupping his cheek, you make him look up at you. “Thank you, Sukuna.”

“I only did it to safe myself.”

“That doesn’t mean I appreciate it any less.”

His mouth already pulled into a snarl, ready to give a snarky remark when the lines on his body started rapidly fading again and a droopy Yuuji was looking at you again.

“Sorry sweetie, were you talking to me?” he yawns loudly and squishes his face even more into your lap, snuggling in again. “I’m just so tired.”

Gently running your fingers over his face, you poke him in the cheek. “Let’s go to bed then puppy, you need to rest properly.”

It was obvious that Yuuji didn’t want to move away from his place on top of you, but he also knew you were right. As nice as your fingers in his hair felt, in the end this position would strain his neck and make him even sorer than he already was. So he reluctantly got up and got himself ready for bed, humming happily when he saw that you joined him in the bathroom.

With the toothbrush still dangling from his mouth he asks you what you had been saying earlier. Pondering if you should tell him that you’ve been talking with Sukuna, and not for the first time at that, you decide against it…for now. He would surely freak out again and lose all of his tiredness if you told him now and then he wouldn’t be able to rest. And he so very clearly needed to rest. You could tell him tomorrow morning, you decided. So you tell him you’ve only been rambling along a little.

After brushing his teeth, he leaves you alone to do your evening routine, but not before he discards his shirt and trousers in the laundry basket. He was one of those persons who always ran hot, so he only slept in his boxers. Who needed a blanket or clothes when they could have their girlfriend warm them up, right? That was his motto. You snort when he came back to give you a quick kiss on the cheek, telling you to hurry.

When you came to the bedroom shortly after that, he was already sprawled out in bed, opening his arms for you to lay on top of him, so you do. Resting your face on his chest, snuggling closer so you could press little kisses to the underside of his chin, making him laugh. His comforting smell soon engulfs you and you nuzzle your nose harder against him, silently thanking Sukuna again for saving your boyfriend. In return, you can feel his arms wrap around you even more tightly.

“Yuuji?” you softly whisper. He only hums for you to know he heard you, and gives a little squeeze to encourage you to continue speaking.

Lifting yourself up a little, you press a quick kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

Yuuji pops open an eye at that, pulls you close again and kisses you back, slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, pouring all his love for you into the kiss, instead of just saying ‘i love you’ back.You smile against his lips. “Good night.”

Taking up your position on his chest again, you close your eyes as well, listening to his soft breathing and little snores. Eventually it gets silent again and you feel two more arms wrap around your middle. Now too tired yourself to lift up your head and look at Sukuna, you just press a soft kiss against his chest as well, mumbling a “thank you again, ‘kuna.” Into his chest, before falling asleep yourself.

You miss the fond smile that grazes the curses lips as he beholds you, laying there utterly at peace in his arms and sighs. Maybe he did save that brat not only for his own benefits after all.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x reader #itadori x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk imagines #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori yuuji #sukuna #i don't know what this is #i just want to cuddle with them both so much #nana do u see this #this is what happens when we rewatch jjk #the cuddle urge with yuuji is so strong ugH but sukuna as well #twosidescoinfic #mywriting

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holylulusworld · 3 years

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The B*tch

Title: The b*tch

Summary: It’s a game for you and Bucky. Sometimes you even burn a whole town down if you must.

Square Filled ‘Second Chances’ for: @buckybingo

Rating: Explicit 18+

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Characters: Steve Rogers, Dot, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff

Warnings: angst, language, love-hate relationship (toxic relationship), public blowjob (light), light fingering, mentions of anal sex (nothing happens, no description), mentions of infidelity/break-up, implied/mentions of threesome/foursome, smut, unprotected sex, public sex, forced voyeurism, possessive Bucky, hair pulling, roughness, implied character’s death, therapy, roleplay

Words: 5,3k

2021 BUCKY BINGO masterlist

Divider by @firefly-graphics

A/N: Please head the warnings. The reader and Bucky have a toxic relationship in this. Both are awful people.

“Steve, tell your boss to keep his bitch in line,” you growl, tapping your glass to order another drink. The bartender smirks, watching Steve Rogers, the right-hand man of the most feared man in Brooklyn cower in front of you. “This is my club, and I don’t like hussies at my club, nor whores.”

“Doll, don’t make a fuss,” Steve tries. “I know you and Buck got a war of roses going on, but he didn’t think much of bringing that girl here.”

“I said, I don’t want his whores at my club,” you whip your head to meet Steve’s eyes, narrowing your eyes. “And I don’t mean girls making money with riding dick. I like prostitutes, Stevie. They are always polite and know how to dress. Suzie over there works here every night.”

“Y/N, stop right now. You know every club pays Bucky good money. Every club except for you,” Steve warns.

“I don’t give two shits on Barnes. I make the rules here,” Steve doesn’t like you slide your hand over your thigh, patting the hidden knife. He knows you love to wear a knife strapped against your thigh beneath your crimson silky robe.

He follows the motion, eyes glued to the slit in your dress, revealing your thigh and the tattoo on it. The one you will remove soon enough.

“Still got the tattoo, doll? I knew you can’t get rid of me completely,” a smug grin on his lips, and a dopily smiling Dot on his arm Bucky waltz toward you as if he owns the club.

“Oh, the trash made it out of the house,” you batt your eyelashes, chuckling lightly. “Didn’t think she can walk on her own.” turning around to face the bartender you give her a sweet smile. “What do you think, Wanda, doll. Does that woman look like she should be at my club?”

“I don’t know, boss,” Wanda smirks. While refilling your drink, she looks at Dot, shrugging as she doesn’t want to get in trouble with Bucky. “I’m not into cheap chicks.”

“Give me two cherries,” you coo, ignoring Bucky fumes right next to you. “Maybe give Steve water to make sure he doesn’t dehydrate. He looks so pale tonight. We don’t want him to get sick.”

“On its way, boss,” snickering Wanda pours Steve water, relieved she doesn’t have to talk about Bucky’s latest arm candy.

“Steve, tell my ex to shut her nasty mouth before I stuff it,” Bucky barks orders at Steve before he sits next to you on his favorite barstool, the one he used to occupy when you still were a thing.

“You wish,” you sip at your martini, looking anywhere but at Bucky. “Why do you come back here? There are other clubs in Brooklyn, with owners liking you, Barnes.”

“I like the atmosphere and the drinks are good,” he smirks, placing his favorite knife onto the bar top. A silent warning for you to watch your tongue. “What can you recommend?”

“To leave,” you quip, sipping at your drink.

“You know, it’s a crime to put cherries into a martini,” Bucky mutters, watching you place one of the cherries on your tongue, moaning at the taste.

“I give a shit on your opinion, Barnes. If you would excuse me now, there are tables, a dancefloor, and restrooms you can use,” you jerk your head toward Dot stand next to Steve, still grinning at you. “Take your bitch and leave me to my drink and the music.”

“Ya know,” Bucky leans closer to breathe in your neck, “you should fuck more often to get the stick out of your ass, my love.” his fingertips ghost over your back, draw circles in your skin.

“Ya know,” you get your knife out to press the tip into Bucky’s crotch before Steve can even flinch, “men like you should watch their tongue and balls. One day someone will break into your house and cut them off. Now go.”

“Little bitch.”

“I used to be your doll,” you say, a little too bitter. “Sadly, you couldn’t keep it in your pants,” you chuckle.

“Bitch,”

“Cheating bastard,” you dip your head to glance at Dot. “You should hurry to disappoint the next woman. Maybe you will keep your promises this time – huh? Or maybe she’ll get empty promises too.”

“One day someone will cut your sharp tongue off,” you press the tip harder into his crotch, smirking when a hint of pain flashes across Bucky’s features. “Maybe I’ll be the one to do so.”

“Aw, you can’t take the pleasure away from all men in Brooklyn who want a blowjob from me. You know,” leaning closer you brush your lips over Bucky’s ear, “men love it when I use my tongue.”

Bucky shudders, remembering the way you went down on him. Teeth, lips, and tongue. “You weren’t that good.”

“What a pity,” you smirk, hiding the knife in your garter. “I just wanted to remind you how good I can blow you off.”

“You sure?” Steve chokes on his water when you slide off the barstool to pat his cock, right in front of his boss.

“What the fuck, doll?”

“Oh, you believed I wanted to suck your dick?” you chuckle. “No, I wanted to go down on your tall blonde piece of meat and show him a good time.”

“Go ahead and show Steve a good time,” Bucky challenges, watching you slowly unbuckle Steve’s belt.

You don’t care the club is crowded or that Bucky is right next to you and Steve.

“Y/N, doll,” Steve mumbles when you slide your hand over his chest down to his abs. “Stop, you don’t want to do this.”

“Stevie,” you coo, giving his lips a peck, “you should know I do what I want, and right now,” you tug harshly at his pants, shove them down his legs, “I wanna suck your dick and show you a good time.”

Steve swallows thickly, but what can man do when a woman like you shoves her hand down his boxers to run it up and down his swelling length.

“Oh, you are packing, sweet Steve,” you moan, hand leaving his boxers too soon to shove the fabric down his thighs.

No one at the club dares to watch you. You’re at the VIP section, the one reserved for and your friends. This part of the club only belongs to you, and you can do whatever you want without anyone spying on you.

“Doll,” Steve’s breathing quickens when you ever so slowly sink to your knees to cup his balls. “You shouldn’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I can do, Stevie,” you smirk, hand fisting his cock harshly. “That’s a nice cock, a big one and I’ll worship it. Don’t you want my lips around your dick?”

“Y-yeah-“ Steve chokes out. “But B-Bucky is right next to us, doll. Can we go somewhere private?”

“No, baby,” chuckling you roughly grip Steve’s cock. “I want to prove a point, Steve, and want to choke on your cock right here and now.”

You lick over the wide head, smiling to yourself when you hear Bucky bark your name. He dangerously growls it, wants you to stop but you relax your jaw and go for the goal.

“If you dare to suck his dick, I’ll end your life,” he growls. “Y/N, I’m warning you, doll. Don’t you-“

It’s too late, you suckle at the tip of Steve’s cock, ignoring Bucky throws a tantrum.

“What, James? You told me I’m boring and you want to move on with a hotter chick. Obviously, Stevie has a different opinion and is hard as a rock for me. Now lemme get him off, he’s so hard it would be a waste to not suck his dick.”

“Stop being a brat,” fisting your hair Bucky drags you off Steve, leaves his friend panting and unsatisfied behind.

“Let go of me Barnes,” you try to swat Bucky’s hands away, but he pushes you onto the couch at the VIP section, growling low in his throat. “I wanna suck Stevie’s dick, James. Let me suck his fucking cock!”

“Be good now,” panting heavily Bucky pins your hands above your head, to hold you down. “You will not suck Steve’s cock, not before you did so with mine.”

“I won’t suck your pitiful dick,” you spit into Bucky’s face, grinning viciously when he growls low in his throat. “Now get off me! This is still my club.”

Bucky’s eyes drift toward your legs, especially the tattoo on your thigh, the one with his name on it.

“This is still all mine, doll. Forget about Steve’s cock, mine is all you’ll get. No one in this town will ever touch you.”

“You fucker!” you try to kick Bucky but he takes the opportunity to settle between your thighs, smirks as you can feel his erection press against your thigh. “Get off me! You made sure no guy I hit on fucked me?”

“It’s the law,” Bucky breathes against your lips, “Y/N, Y/L/N is Bucky Barnes property. I laid claim on you years ago, my beloved wife.”

“The fuck! I’m not some fucking property, you dickhead,” you cry, fighting Bucky with all your strength. “I will kill you the moment you get off me. I will start with cutting your balls off and end it with carving your heart out of your chest!”

“Damn, you really want to suck Steve’s dick,” Bucky grins. He pecks your nose, snickering when you try to bite him. “Did ya hear, Stevie? Y/N wants to suck your cock so badly.”

“Barnes, get off me,” you mutter, tilting your hips to rub your core against Bucky’s erection. “Or get me off.”

“Interesting,” he smirks, eyes drifting toward your chest. “But I don’t fuck bitches,” you huff at Bucky’s words, wiggle harder in his hold.

Your stiff nipples strain against the thin fabric of your silky dress, force Bucky to remember how it felt when you pressed your sweaty body against his chest, nipples scraping his skin.

“Then get off me, Barnes, and leave my club. Take your sweet puppy with you,” you growl. “I’m gonna find another dick to suck tonight.”

“You had to fuck with her again, didn’t you, Buck?” Steve sighs, tugging his cock back into his pants. “Damn, why didn’t you let her finish me? She’s so good at sucking dick.”

“That was a one-time thing, and we were all drunk,” Bucky growls. “And it was one of her fantasies. Y/N is not for you to touch.”

“Didn’t look like it when you encouraged her to give me a blowjob,” cursing under his breath, Steve stomps toward the car. “I had a raging hard dick.”

“Do you think I give a shit! She’s still my wife, Steve,” Bucky sneers. “If not for our friendship, you would lie six feet under right now.”

“Bastard!” tossing the divorce papers onto Bucky's desk, you scowl at him. “James, you told me you’ll sign the papers weeks ago. Now you sent them to me, unsigned and a picture of your dick glued to it.”

“I’m not going to sign that crap, kitten. And I know you loved the picture. I bet you got off looking at my dick,” leaning back in his chair Bucky roams your body with his eyes. “You look ready to get eaten in that black pencil skirt, baby doll. Why don’t you come over here and let me shove my hand down your panties?”

“Everything is a joke to you,” you roll your eyes, not in the mood for one of Bucky’s games. “You wanted out of this marriage, you got out. You can’t suddenly change your mind.”

“I can and did,” he shrugs, eying you shamelessly when you cross your legs. “What happened last night will never happen again, doll. If you ever try to let another man touch you, he’ll die. Everyone in town knows you are mine.”

“You can’t-“ you growl, hands balling into fists. “What do you want for letting me go? I don’t want to fight anymore. I’m tired of your games. Do you want my club? You can have it! Just sign the papers and I’m out of town for good.”

“You would give ‘Artemis’, the club you built out of nothing, up to be free of me?” you shrug. Nothing you can’t accomplish. When you are free of Bucky you will start anew.

“New town. New club,” Bucky huffs at your words. “It’s nothing special. People want to dance, drink, and fuck everywhere. The only difference is, there will be no James Buchanan Barnes fucking me over.”

“I did not fuck you over but fucked you thoroughly,” you scream in frustration, grasp the first thing on Bucky’s desk to throw it at him. “I even let you fuck Stevie.”

“That was a birthday gift, and you had your turn too,” getting up you want to attack Bucky, but you don’t get far.

“Come here doll and get some,” he already grasps for your arm, moves faster than you can blink to push you onto the couch at his office.

“Get off me,” you fight with Bucky. Slap his face, tug harshly at his hair, fist his clothes before you end up on top of him.

He has you on his lap, your legs on each side of his thighs moments later to shove your panties aside, fingers pushing inside your dripping core. “Fuck, you’re dripping for me, doll.”

“I’m just needy thanks to you, Barnes,” you growl, hands pawing at his jacket, tugging harshly. “Give me something, anything…”

“My dick?” he cocks a brow, groaning when you nod eagerly. “Just a minute baby doll,” husking the words Bucky rips your panties apart. “Lemme call Steve to join us.” He grins, revealing he tricked you again.

“Fucking asshole,” you slap his cheek harshly, growling his name. “There I believe you can act like an adult.”

“Just let me call him and he can watch me fuck you like a man,” Bucky grips your waistline, fingers digging in your flesh to hold you on top of him. “I want him to see how good I can make you feel.”

“I wanted to get off, not give your best buddy something to jerk off,” you growl, pushing against Bucky’s shoulders. “Jesus, we are a mess, Barnes.”

“I know, but I love you,” you sigh, forehead pressing against Bucky’s. “Can we not try again? I know that I fucked up, but give me another chance, doll.”

Your hands cup his face, and you breathe against him. Your forehead still touches Bucky’s heated one, and you just take a moment to feel him against you.

“I want Dot gone, not just out of your life but out of town. I don’t care if you send her to hell or Timbuktu. Just get rid of that grinning bitch,” you mutter. “If you get rid of her, we can talk again.”

“Uh-erm,” Bucky tilts his hips to press his erection into your core. “Can we still fuck? I didn’t touch Dot, I swear. Yes, I had a few flings here and there, but I know you were riding Steve’s dick over the last months.”

“What can I say – he has a nice dick,” you smirk, hands kneading the knots out of Bucky’s shoulders. “Maybe we can invite him once in a while?”

“What will I get in return?” Bucky husks, searching your eyes. “Doll?”

“You can do that thing with your thing,” a deep guttural growl leaves Bucky’s chest before you find yourself underneath the mobster, pinned to the couch.

“Give me five and I’ll get her out of town. And then, I want to do the thing with my thing in your ass.”

“Not today,” you grumble. “Get me off first and show me you’ll not stray again. If you can prove you are worth my time, you can conquer my ass.”

“I wanna-“ Bucky whines. “You better let me fuck that tight ass, doll. If not, I’ll not let you cum for months…”

“Promises…promises…”

“Bye, bye, Dottie,” you coo, waving at Steve. The tall blonde drags said woman out of her apartment, not caring Dot screams, fighting Steve with tooth and nails. “Have a nice trip!”

“Bitch!” Dot growls, screaming on the top of her lungs. “You can have that bastard back. He barely made me cum.”

“Did you fuck her?” growling the words you glare at Bucky. “James Buchanan Barnes! Did you fuck that woman?”

“Maybe a little?” Bucky shrugs, rubbing his hands over your arms, grinning sheepishly. “I was barely inside, ya know.”

“What the fuck! There is no ‘I was barely inside’, James. You were inside and fucked her or you weren’t,” you punch his chest harshly. “There is no halfway!”

“Fine, I fucked her ass,” your husband grumbles. “What can I say? We were on a break, and I was lonely.”

“Don’t you fucking dare to tell me you were lonely, Barnes,” pushing against his shoulders you ignore Steve tries to drag you off his friend. “Good thing I rode Steve’s dick excessively. Damn, he was so good!”

“If you don’t stop talking about Steve’s dick I’ll let him fuck you right here, in front of all my men! Maybe I’ll let them have a turn too – huh? All of them!” Bucky threatens, not liking the grin on your lips.

“Oh, please! As if I didn’t already fuck all of your men! Sam was the first I blew off in your car! He tasted like a goddamn popsicle!”

“Lying bitch!” Bucky is in your face, breathes heavily when you exclaim Thor had you on your husband’s desk, followed by his raven-haired brother. “You didn’t fuck my men!”

“I did and if I want to, I’ll do it again. Right here. Right now. All of them in all my holes,” you jab your finger into Bucky’s chest, snickering when he wraps his metal hand around your throat.

“You better think before you speak to me again,” he growls. “Get in my car and shut your mouth.”

“Aw, don’t you want one of your men to shut my mouth with his dick?” you retort, laughing when Bucky roughly shoves you toward his car to bend you over the hood.

“You want to act like a whore, I’ll show you what you’ll get,” Steve tries to stop his friend when Bucky rips your dress down your body, followed by your panties.

“Oh, do you want to fuck me, or will you ask a real man to do so?” laughing manically you spread your legs. “I’m ready for all of them, James.”

“Fucking bitch,” he unzips his pants, impatiently getting his dick out. “I’m gonna fuck you right here for all my men to see.”

“Promises again-“ you giggle, not missing Steve tries to stop his friend. “Will ya fuck me now or shall I ask one of your men?”

“Shut up,” his cock slaps against your ass, and his men turn around, not wanting to peak on you getting fucked. “If anyone takes his eyes off my wife, he’ll fuck her after me!”

“Did you just offer my pussy to all of your men? Naughty, James,” you grin, imagining getting filled by all of Bucky’s men. “Damn, yes.”

“I might add, anyone putting their hands on my wife will die, slow and painful!” you whine, disappointed you’ll only get Bucky’s dick. “Now shut the fuck up and just take my dick like a good girl.”

“Aw, you still think I’m a good girl, Bucky. That’s so sweet of you,” giggling you tap your fingers onto the hood. “Will I get your dick now or do you have performance issues in front of your men?”

“Fucking bitch,” his metal hand roughly fists your hair, presses your face into the cool surface of his car, gives you a stark contrast to his hot cock that nudges at your slit. “I hope you are wet because I don’t care if it hurts for you.”

“Bastard,” filled to the brim seconds later you struggle to breathe. Bucky is not gentle by all means, he roughly grips your shoulders, holds you down like you are nothing but a hole to fill. “Fuck me like a man, if you can.”

“Buck, can we not leave,” Steve grumbles, eyes glued to your body pressed to the car. He would never tell anyone so, but Steve loves to fuck a girl on a car.

“Watch and maybe, you’ll get a turn too. Sloppy seconds and all,” Sam tries to not look, knowing Bucky is too engrossed in starting to fuck into you. Brock on the other hand rubs his hand over his dick, listening to all the noises you make for your husband.

“Buck, this goes too far,” you moan loudly, feeling Bucky speed up. He doesn’t care if you get off or enjoy the ride; he simply wants to lay claim on your body again. “Bucky!”

“You’ll watch me fuck my wife, Sam,” Bucky moves his hands to your hips, holds your body in a tight grip. “I dare you to look away.”

“Bucky likes to have an audience while we fuck,” you quip, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to meet Steve’s darkened eyes. “Look at you Steve, so hard while your best buddy fucks his wife.

“Can you stop flirting with Steve?” Bucky starts to drag you onto his length, groans with every harsh thrust. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to not let you cum.”

“Don’t challenge me, Barnes!” while you bicker with your husband, his men silently sneak toward their cars, leave you to your coupling. “You better make me cum!”

“Little bitch wants to dictate my life,” he ruts into you, hands pawing at your flesh. “My doll wanted to fuck Stevie, and I let her. But then I want to fuck Natasha and she freaks out.”

“As you didn’t ask me to do so! You fucked her in our bed, and she wore one of my dresses,” you growl, pushing back onto Bucky’s length. “All those bitches, you fucked them on our bed. I would’ve never fucked Steve on our bed!”

“Hypocrite!”

“Cheater!”

“Fucking cum.”

“I’m trying but you lost your mojo,” you pant, smirking at Steve. He’s the last man standing – or rather the only guy watching you and Bucky fuck.

“Steve, make a mental note. We will put my wife in the dungeon and play with her all night long,” whimpering you look at Steve, imagining all the cruel things both men will do to you.

“Please.”

“Cum and I’ll hurt you so good…”

“I forgot we got a freaking sex dungeon,” you roll on your back, stretching your sore body. “So, who’s going to get me food?”

“Steve?”

“I don’t feel my legs, Buck,” Steve groans. “How about you go, and I’ll just lie here, ignoring my sore dick.”

“Don’t be such a baby,” you tut. “I only tried to show you a good time. How should I know you can’t take it?”

“Stevie, if you want to keep up with my wife, you must train your dick,” Bucky snickers, looking around the room to find his pants. “Sam, why are you still on the floor?”

“I need a break,” Sam pants, glancing at Bucky who ushers toward the door to unlock it. “I never thought I will ever not want sex.”

“Aw, my sexy soft bear can’t get up from the floor, Bucky,” you sigh deeply, closing your eyes for a moment.

“Did you hear me?” the female asks, disturbing your moment of silence. “Mrs. Barnes, did you hear me?”

Your eyes snap open and you feel the heat creep into your cheeks. Your therapist looks at you, expectantly, waiting for you to answer her question. “What did you imagine?”

“I-I,” you sigh, realizing you daydreamed once again. “To pay him back and, have some fun,” you sniff now.

“How did you do it? Who are you when you pay him back?” she asks. “Describe the person you are in your dreams.”

“When I imagine paying my husband back, I’m sexy and wild. Not meek and boring. If only I was a little more like that woman, he would’ve never found someone better, sexier, and more interesting.”

“Mrs. Barnes, you are not boring nor unsexy. Men cheat on their women for other reasons,” she tuts. “We talked about your low self-esteem.”

“Doesn’t change the fact she’s a ten and I’m a two, maybe even a one,” you sniffle. “I guess he will file for divorce soon enough to marry that woman. I can’t do anything and feel so helpless. What can I do? Bucky doesn’t love me anymore, maybe he never did.”

There is a knock on your therapists’ door, causing her to frown. “Just a minute, Mrs. Barnes. I wonder who dares to disturb our session.”

“It’s okay,” you give her a soft smile. “I can open it for you, and you can make some more notes.”

“We need to talk,” when you open the door, Bucky stands in front of you, panting heavily, an envelope with papers in his hands. You assume he wants to deliver the divorce papers today, so you nod silently.

“Okay, come in,” defeated you open the door a bit wider to let Bucky inside. “Let’s get this over with.”

You walk toward the couch, holding back the tears while Bucky strips his coat off, tossing it onto the couch, ignoring your therapist completely.

“You need to stop talking to your therapist about me,” he begins. “Y/N, what will happen when she tells anyone about the stuff you told her.”

“I only told her about my doubts, that I feel like a grey mouse,” you sniffle. “There is nothing wrong with it. I try to feel better and get over the fact that I never was pretty or sexy to you.”

Tears run down your face, and you choke out a sob, hating yourself for it. “What the fuck, doll. I gave you time and space, but you’ll not talk about shit with a stranger. I want you to talk to me!”

“About what, Bucky? There is nothing left to say. You want that sexy woman, and I’m going to fade in grey again,” you shrug. “It is what it is.”

“Fade to what?” running one hand down his face Bucky sighs. “Y/N, doll. I was drunk and Natasha asked me if she can stay in the guest room. When I walked into our bedroom she was there, wearing little to nothing.”

“How could you resist a woman like her while having someone like me at home. I’m not-“ your voice cracks when you look down your body.

“I-I’m sorry that I almost had sex with her. I was stupid. We had this fight, and I was weak that night, baby doll,” he crouches down next to you, gently touches your foot. “Look at me, doll. Natasha can’t compare to you.”

“’s okay, Bucky,” you shrug. “Men like you shouldn’t go for girls like me. You belong to Natasha or anyone else but me.”

“Fucking shit, Y/N! Yell at me. Scream. Throw things. Do anything but blame yourself for my infidelity. I was drunk and made out with Natasha. This was not your fault, it was mine, doll,” he runs his hand up and down your leg, tries to make you talk to him.

“I will sign the papers, no problem.”

“Papers? What papers? I got you the photos you wanted of the puppy,” Bucky opens the envelope to place the pictures of one of the puppies you liked onto your lap. “I-you see.”

“Puppies? I don’t understand, Bucky,” sniff, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt.

“Y/N, can we not talk about what happened?”

“Mr. Barnes, I’m glad you made it to one of our sessions,” your therapist clears her throat, watches you make space on the couch for your husband. “Why don’t we talk about your problems? Maybe I can help you?”

“OHMYGOD, Bucky,” you giggle, slapping his bare chest while he tries to slip inside of you. “Hey, shouldn’t we do one of those pair therapy exercises?”

“I’m on it, beautiful,” your husband slams into you, ignores you are still sore from your last encounter. Well, you barely made it out of your therapist’s office without fucking the life out of each other. “Aw, you were such a cute shy girl, and I, the big bad mobster just came to the session to help you cope.”

“You’re an asshole,” you pant, cunt already soaked again. “But fuck me, baby. My therapist will be so fucking proud of me for taking the next step.”

“Next step, huh? You went straight to fucking me, Steve, and Sam. That’s not the next step, it’s the ultimate.”

“Yeah, and it was great,” your nails bite into Bucky’s back, leave angry red lines but you don’t care. “I’m gonna lay claim on you again Barnes.”

He growls, hips crashing into yours. “This cunt is mine. No more Sam or Steve,” you hum to yourself, lean back, and decide to just enjoy the ride. “What? Don’t just lie there, doll.”

“I’m tired but want an orgasm. Come on, Buck, work that body,” you grin, watching Bucky move on top of you. “That’s what you wanted. Right? A girl like Dot, who just lies there and takes it.”

“Damnit, doll. Move your body,” he groans when you decide to buck your hips. “More, Y/N. I wanna feel you move your body…”

“So, a second chance?” your therapist asks when you shyly sit on the couch next to Bucky. Oh, how you love to pretend you are not the devil in disguise.

Your red lips curve into a smirk and you wonder if that smart woman will ever find out the truth about you and Bucky.

“Yes, we will go for more sex and fewer puppies,” Bucky grunts, patting your thigh, squeezing it roughly with his metal hand. “Truth is doc; my girl needs a cock more than anything. Sometimes I’ll bring Steve in, to help me fuck her.”

“What?” your therapist stutters, looking at you with wide eyes. “Mr. Barnes!”

“Oh, she loves it, doc. Last time it was an orgy. I watched Steve, Sam and Thor take turns. She was covered in cum and screamed only my name,” Bucky grins like the devil, already patting his hidden gun.

“I-I,” unsure what to say or how to react to such a confession your therapist slowly gets up from your chair. “I think I’ll need fresh air.”

“Sit, doc,” his voice dangerously low now Bucky dips his head to look her straight in the eyes. “Did you think I don’t know you were selling all those nice information my wife gave you to my enemies?”

“Buck,” you sigh. “Don’t kill another therapist. I liked that one—”

“Great, now I must find a new therapist thanks to you,” watching Bucky parade around your bedroom, a smirk plastered all over his face you roll your eyes. “Seriously, Barnes. You killed three of my therapists in not eight years.”

“The first dared to say we should file for divorce. I know he only wanted to get a taste of your pussy,” your husband mutters.

“Yeah, but what about therapist number two? He didn’t do anything wrong, still, the cops knocked on my door not days after his disappearance.”

“Hey, it wasn’t me!” Bucky snickers. “Maybe Steve didn’t like your therapist blamed him for our failed marriage.” The bastard shrugs. “Or I had to show him no one touches my wife.”

“He didn’t touch shit, Barnes,” you growl, watching Bucky open the door to the bathroom to reveal his next gift to you. “What?”

“May I present to you—” he smirks when a black cat waltzes into the room, “that’s Hades, its soul is as black as yours.”

“Don’t say shit about black cats,” patting the mattress you watch Hades jump onto the bed, purring. “I love black cats.”

“I know, doll,” laughing Bucky sits on the bed to watch you pat the cat.

“This is your last second chance, Barnes. Next time I’ll just kill you...”

Tags in reblog.

#bucky bingo round 1 #The B*tch #bucky barnes x reader #mobster!bucky #mobster!Bucky x Reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #smut #angst #tw: cheating #plot twist #bucky barnes x you

517 notes · View notes

realcube · 4 years

Text

haikyuu!! boys’ reactions to you speaking 💗 uwu💗

characters: tsukishima, ushijima, yaku, kenma & iwazumi

thank you anon for this cute request 💕 idk what i just wrote but i had fun 👍

IWAIZUMI & KENMA’S ARE AGED UP! MUTURE THEMES - MINORS DNI

tw// fluff, swearing, uwu language, cwinge

kenma’s hcs tw// sexual themes, implied switch!reader, phone sex(?), mentions of a blowjob, mentions of punishment

iwaizumi’s hcs tw// breeding kink, fem!reader, orgasm denial

Kei Tsukishima

you realised he didn’t like it so you did it just to annoy him LMFAO

he was scrolling through tiktok and a girl popped up on his fyp talking like that, so he snarled and immediately flicked it away, muttering something along the lines of ‘why do people speak like that? do they think it’s cute? ‘cause it’s really not; it’s just embarrassing.’

so you wasted no time in responding, ‘sowwy? what was that?’

HELL 👏 FIRE

his blood literally ran cold, he was aware that you liked taking the piss but he didn’t expect you to do it to this extent

‘what did you just say?’ he murmured, silently praying that he had just misheard you

you rolled your eyes before scoffing ‘nothing.’ you deepened your voice, just playing around at this point tbh

tsukishima hummed in agreement, deciding not to inquire further as he figured that he must’ve heard the echo of the girl’s voice in his head rather than yours

so he was just about go back to scrolling until he heard you coo in a high-pitched from behind him, ‘tsukishima is a lil’ bitch.’

‘(Y/N), FUCKING STOP!’ he let a throaty scream at you

‘you’re so boring, tsukki-’ you spoke, quickly cutting yourself off so you could switch to your uwu voice, ‘or should I say; bowing.’

you said, hopeful that your voice would make it clearing that you meant ‘boring’ rather than the act of playing an instrument with a bow

‘go to hell.’ he grumbled, trying his best to tune you out by pulling his headphones over his ears

‘babe~’ you purred, shuffling over to him and peppering kisses along the nape of his neck as you were feeling extra evil today, ‘wuv you~’

‘jail.’ tsukishima simply stated as he switched over to Spotify so he could blare some Mother Mother to drown out the sound of your voice

the worst part was that he couldn’t even tell if he liked it or not PFFT

like it was cute but the fact you weaponised it against him annoyed him

but you were also giving him kithes so he couldn’t exactly complain 💞

Morisuke Yaku

ok don’t even lie yaku does a variant of the uwu voice whenever he’s trying to insult kuroo IUGBEIGVA

it’s something like ‘aww, kuwoo, does your lil’ undewdeveloped bwain not undewstand algebwa?’ but in a mocking way yk?

so when a he watches a lil’ tabby cat approach you on the street, then you busted out the uwu voice that he had never heard before- he was taken aback

at first he was like ‘woah why are you making fun of that cat?’ bc he always associated that voice with ridicule LMFAO

but when he processed all the nice things you were saying he realised that you were being nice lol

so then he was like ‘awwww 🥺 (y/n) + cat = SO FKN CUTE!! 💕💗💖’ *click click* and he just starts taking photos

he probably puts them on his private story with the caption ‘their an angel 😍’

(then kuroo probably replies with ‘they’re*’) (don’t ask why yaku put him on his private story ✋)

anyway, he’s probably so fond of the voice too like ofc he thinks it’s cute

bc it’s a lil’ kitten and you’re talking to it in a high-pitched voice as if it can understand you SO FKN CUTE

he’s not too effected by it tho- it’s mostly how well you get on with the cat that he really admires

then he couched down beside you to talk to the cat too and y’all had a whole conversation with it in uwu

‘aww, look! are you hungwy, baby?’ you asked the cat as it licked the back of it’s paw

‘i think, it is!’ yaku continued, aware that if anybody from school caught him doing this, he’d pass away on the spot but what can he say? he’s soft for you (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

‘i have some blueberries in my bag, you can have some if you say please.’ he told the cat

you were both met by the cat’s blank - but adorable - stare, accompanied��by silence until the kitten let out a faint, ‘mew’

‘AWWWWWW!!! 💞💕💖🥺👏 ’ you both squealed in unison, impressed by the kitten’s response

‘it understands us!’ you gasped while applauding the cat for it’s excellent communication skills

‘the voice must work!’ yaku concluded as he scrambled to throw his bag off his back and rummage through it in search of the tub of blueberries

you nodded, watching in awe as yaku pulled out the tub to carefully pick out the plumpest berries and feed them to the cat

yaku noticed your expression out of the corner of his eye and chuckled, ‘what?’

‘you’re so cute.’ you snickered, lighting bopping his nose with your index finger as he continued to allow the cat to feed out of the palm of his hand

a furious blush immediately covered his cheeks as he hastily turned his head away to hide it - in a typical anime fashion, ‘be quiet.’

Kenma Kuzome

it’s a sex thing-- it’s 100% a sex thing

a kink perhaps?

ngl he loves it when you do the voice in bed

like don’t ask why it turns him on so much

he’s weak for you whenever you do the voice tbh

BUT it’s only hot when you do it

when any other person does it - especially if it’s over text - he literally gags 🤢🤢🤢

when a streamer he watches does the voice, he’s just thinks ‘ew ✋ that isn’t cute. pls stop.’

but when you do it- boner alert pfft

especially when you moan in that voice yES HE LOVES THAT

you just execute it in a way these other bitches just can’t, okay? 💅 IUERBGFERIBG

he doesn’t mind putting the voice on sometimes if you like it when he does it but he’s really embarrassed by it 🙈

he’ll try to say something in the voice while you’re rearranging his guts for a change and you’re praising him like 👏👏👏 ‘awh, precious kenma bb.i love that voice on you, i might just let you cum early--’

and he’s fucking groaning from pain, pleasure and humiliation

‘never again.’ was the single coherent thought he could form

you’re only giving like 20% of the time but if you happen to giving on a day that you’re feeling especially evil, you might make him do the voice in exchange for orgasm privileges

but he gets you back for it though

you’d call him, whining and pleading for him to help you with the throbbing between your legs or at the very least, give you permission to touch yourself

but considering that the day prior, you had tortured his ass to the point were he was now struggling to sit down, ofc he was just like ‘no ❤’ when you ask for his assistance

even after your continuous begging, he didn’t budge

‘don’t you dare put your hands on yourself until i get home. i’m leaving right now so i should be back in half an hour but if you keep pestering me like a little bitch, then i’ll be sure to go extra slow on the highway.’

although, for kenma ‘extra slow’ is probably the speed limit lmao

(istg he drives like he’s in mario kart)

however, half an hour was just too long 😩 i mean, you had probably been on call with him for 5 minutes already and it took you 20 minutes to get him to pick up the phone so by now, you were clearly on the brink of madness

‘kitten~’ you whined, desperately trying to think of a way to convince kenma to aid you

then you remembered; his weak spot

‘pwease, baby?’ you softened and raised the pitch of your voice

kenma perked up as he realised what you were trying to do, the tips of his ears burning, ‘don’t bother to try that with me, (y/--’

‘i’ll suck you off when you come back.’ you promised, keeping the voice on, the aching getting worse and worse by the second

kenma was now partially able to relate to your circumstance as he began to feel a straining of his own, between his legs at your cutesy tone along with the image of the last time you blew him tormenting his mind

‘whatever. but only use your hands. i can tell when you use a toy so don’t even try; or else i’ll dick you down ‘til the sun rises- okay bye.’

atm the moment, that hardly sounded like a punishment but then you reflected back on how you’d be crying for a mercy after the fourth round with kenma so- yeah

anyway, moral of the story, if you perform the voice well enough, it’s basically kenma’s weakness so use it wisely

Hajime Iwaizumi

you first did the voice in front of him while you had a friend’s baby in your arms and you were trying to communicate with it

it kinda looked like

you: hewwo babyy~ who’s the most precious thing? you are!

the baby: 🤠

the parent: 🙂

iwa: 😶

iwa ON THE INSIDE: breeding kink go brrrr 😩 i want to put a baby in her so bad- she’ll scream my name in that fucking voice tonight

and he was right

cut to him pounding you while demanding that you say his name in ✨the voice✨ or else you won’t be allowed to cum

ofc you had too much pride for that so you just let him dick you down and cum whether he likes it or not but he could tell that was the plan you had in mind so he suddenly pulled out just as you were about to reach your high

he looked at you with a mean scowl, ‘fucking say it or i’ll stop right now.’

if he were to stop, it would kinda be a punishment for him too but he didn’t care- anything to see his lovely gf suffer tbh 😇

also he could get off to you fingering yourself, struggling to orgasm- he’s done it before and he’ll gladly do it again if you don’t say his damn name

‘iwa..’ you groaned, gripping at the sheets as you anticipated him sliding his cock back into you

‘in the voice.’ iwaizumi reiterated, delivering a hard smack to the side of your thigh out of annoyance

you hissed at the sharp impact , gulping to lubricate your dry throat before choking out in your best imitation of the voice he desired, ‘iwa~’

he was only half-satisfied with what you uttered but i mean, it got the job done

his dick was throbbing, practically begging for the comfort of your warm cunt once again so he hastily slipped back in, letting out a low groan as he did so

so he’d continue hammer you from behind, probably muttering incoherent things about your babies and your voice while doing so but you chose to pay little attention to it as you couldn’t help but focus on your own intense pleasure

once he finally climaxed, he did it inside you which you wasn’t surprising as y’all had already established that you love being being filled up and he loves filling you up 💕

but then he insisted that y’all go for another few rounds to increase the chance of pregnancy

like- sir-

you didn’t have the heart to tell him that you were on birth control

bc surely......he would’ve known

but he didn’t

you eventually told him that you had no interest in coming off birth control and he wasn’t mad LMAO he didn’t even want a baby tbh he was just caught up in the moment

yeah no but if you do the voice again, the cycle will continue

Wakatoshi Ushijima

you were both hanging out in your bedroom, doing your own things, and you were sending your friend a (video) snap so you ironically used the uwu voice

ofc this caught his attention so he shifted his gaze off of his revision sheets and onto you, shooting you a weird look

you couldn’t help but snicker, turning to him and continuing with your little impression, ‘can i hewp you?’ you tried to ask in all seriousness but you couldn’t suppress the smile that was tugging on the corners of your lip

were you a little high? yes

ushijima just blinked rapidly, wondering why you sound like a cuter version of mickey mouse all of a sudden

was it a trend?

or maybe it was for one of those ‘tiktoks’?

either way, ushijima couldn’t help what he said next

‘no. i’m fiwne.’

IUERSBGTOHAROHSGBGFRO

HE SAID IT LIKE ‘fi - whine’ THO

you passed away 💀⚰

‘TOSHI!!!’ you screamed, feeling your soul leave your body

ushijima gasped, thinking that you had just been possessed or sumn, ‘hm?’

once he realised that you were in fact sane, he figured that your reaction must have something to do with his response

‘did i say something wrong?’ his lips curling into the tiniest of smiles, simply because you looked so joyous so ofc he was he was happy seeing you happy

‘nope! please say it again, toshi! i’m beggin’ ya’

‘no.’

although he loved hearing you laugh more than anything, the man had his limits

ngl he doesn’t mind when you do it - it just doesn’t especially effect him, that’s all

you could just randomly start talking like that during a conversation and he’ll just go from 😐 to 😐

but he gets butterflies when you call him ‘baby’ which is something you usually pickup whenever you put on the voice lol <3

pls call him ‘baby’ or ‘babe’ more he just wants to feel cared for and loved for a change instead of always having to constantly put on a front of ‘big, stoic man with no feeling that you can push around to your hearts content’ around literally everyone. sometimes he just wants to come home and feel like he can actually express himself and be soft without getting ridiculed

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samstree · 3 years

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Hug a Witcher Day (3/4)

In which Jaskier goes missing in the spring. Can Geralt finally realize his feelings for the bard in the middle of a crisis?

(hurt/comfort, soft geraskier, 3k, rated T, cw: mentions of a canon-era plague, sick children, and a citywide lockdown.)

part 1, part 2, read on AO3

The third year since Jaskier invented Hug a Witcher Day, Geralt all but forgets about it completely.

He steps into the Two Weatherfish, where they agreed to meet, and realizes that the bard isn’t here. Or in the entire city of Ard Carraigh. No one has seen any trace of the famous bard who won’t quit singing praises for witchers.

Geralt pushes down the slight panic in his chest as he steps out of the last tavern in the city, and decides to just head for Oxenfurt.

It’s not like Jaskier has been the most reliable companion in the past, often distracted by dalliances or even anything shiny and new. One time he wandered off to watch a local celebration and Geralt found him hours later next to a lake, with thousands of lanterns floating above the water, illuminating the night sky like burning stars peppered on a dark canvas.

The soft, orange light spilled over Jaskier’s features, his eyes gleaming like the stars too.

Geralt snorts despite himself. There’s no doubt the bard is just delayed by someone who caught his eye and decided that a promise to a witcher isn’t all that important—the same witcher who he keeps claiming to be his best friend.

Geralt isn’t sure how to feel about that, or how to react when he finally sees Jaskier. Perhaps he will cease to talk about hunts for a while, leave the bard hanging, just so he can get a taste of the same frustration.

The pettiness remains in Geralt’s mind up until he steps into the academy and rampant fear licks up his chest.

Essi is the one who meets him at the gates, worry deep between her brows and rambling about how Jaskier never made it to the yule ball like he should. In her hands are two letters, clearly Jaskier’s handiwork judging from the neat curves and flourish, talking about his excitement to see his ‘Little Eye’ perform again, and how unfortunately his travel would be delayed due to an unexpected ailment.

Don’t you fret, poppet, for I am sure to beat this sickness within days. The promise of listening to your new ballad is already doing wonders for my health! It is a shame that my stay in Vizima is soured thus. The city, so beautifully rich in culture…

“Vizima,” Essi says frantically. “A plague broke out in the city last winter. Smallpox.”

A buzz begins to ring by Geralt’s ear, muffling out Essi’s voice and leaving only the thundering of his own heartbeat.

“They told me King Foltest sealed the gate to stop the spread, and…and no one has heard from anyone inside since then. Geralt, please, you are a witcher. Aren’t you immune to human sickness? That’s what Jaskier told me, isn’t that right?”

“I…yes.” The lump in Geralt’s throat stops any other words from getting out. His blood runs cold in the warm breeze of Oxenfurt’s spring.

“Please, Geralt, you must find him. I need to know. The university won’t allow me to go, but I…I must know. No matter what happened to him.”

The implication hangs in the air.

Tears well up in blues eyes too similar to Jaskier’s. Essi would be my sister in another life, Jaskier once commented adoringly and it’s only standing right here that Geralt can truly see the identical fierceness in her eyes.

As if Geralt needs her to ask. As if he isn’t willing to charge into the land of the dead if it means Jaskier gets out of it unscathed.

“Of course, Essi,” he promises solemnly. Her clutch on his forearm is so tight that any other man would be bruised by the force. “I promise.”

“Keep him safe, if it’s not too late.”

In his near-century long life, Geralt has rarely felt cold, unrelenting fear as he does when Essi breaks into sobs.

The sickness in Vizima casts a gloomy cloud over the sky, choking Geralt’s breaths. The streets are eerily empty. Only a few people will pass through in a frenzy every now and then.

Geralt’s legs take him right through the main streets, to the far corner of the city, where countless makeshift tents are set up and stretching towards the edge of the woods. If anyone has indeed fallen to the disease, that’s the most likely place they will be sent to. If anyone passes, that’s also where they keep the records so friends and families can look for their names.

Bile rises in his throat at the idea of looking through stacks of books for Jaskier’s name.

Geralt walks between hundreds of beds of one tent after another. Some healers throw him an odd look but carry on with their work, the flash of their white scrubs weaving through the busy establishment.

Against all odds, a pang of relief hits Geralt when he notices how the patients are well-treated by healers who seem to know what they are doing. The fever is brought down with a soaked cloth and a minty salve is applied for the irritation on the skin.

He searches and searches, until the sun is almost down, when—

A soft tune is carried over by the gentle breeze of spring.

And there Jaskier is, kneeling next to a little boy on a bed and humming a lullaby that Geralt only remembers vaguely. The bard is wearing the same white scrub like every carer at this camp, his brown hair slightly ruffled, and dark circles are hanging under his eyes. Geralt can see how tired he is by the hunch of his shoulders and the barely-there quiver in his singing, by his unkept stubble and the smile that’s dangerously close to falling.

And yet, he makes the most beautiful sight in the world.

Geralt stands there, drinking in the presence of his bard. The languid heartbeat of a witcher picks up, fluttering and almost bursting out of his chest.

Jaskier runs his fingers through the boy’s hair when the lullaby comes to an end. He tucks in the blanket and slowly pulls himself up, his knees creaking from the strain.

Blue eyes meet Geralt and Jaskier’s shock morphs into unbridled, blazing joy. Within the blink of an eye, the bard is standing right in front of Geralt.

“Geralt,” Jaskier breathes oh so carefully like he’s scared of waking from a dream. “What are you doing here? Wait, you don’t have any protec—oh right! Witcher biology. Can’t catch anything from us.” The bard lets out a sigh and his shoulders drop in relief. “How did you get through the gate? Punched another guard, didn’t—”

“You are okay,” Geralt says, dumbly.

“I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” Jaskier frowns. “Geralt, why did you come to Vizima in the middle of a plague? Not that I’m complaining about seeing you, but how exactly did you find me?”

Geralt doesn’t want to look away from Jaskier’s face—ideally for a long time to come, but he needs to rummage through his pack for the crumpled letters.

“You sent these to Essi last winter.”

Jaskier takes the letters, flattens the frayed edges before reading his own words.

“Yes, I did tell her…” Cold horror takes Jaskier aback. “Shit. She must think—Oh, Geralt, that wasn’t it! I only caught a stomach bug. It was never the pox! But then…they locked the city gate so fast and everything was in chaos for weeks. I couldn’t get more letters out. Oh, I wish I could take it back! I didn’t think—”

“You damn well didn’t.”

The words come out a lot harsher than Geralt intended, and Jaskier flinches back. Geralt pinches at the bridge of his nose, feeling contrite at his untimely outburst.

“No, Jask—I’m not…” he heaves out a sigh. “She didn’t even know if you were alive for months.”

Neither did I.

“I’m so sorry.” Jaskier is close to tears. “She must be worried sick.”

“She is.”

I was.

“And you too, Geralt. Please forgive me.” Jaskier’s chin wobbles, his arms hovering between the two of them as if he wants to put them around Geralt. “I want to ask you not to be cross with me again, but that seems to be all I do.”

“Jaskier…”

Geralt calls out when he finds not even an ounce of anger in his heart, not when he just spent weeks fearing the worst, not when Jaskier is standing right in front of him, safe and hale, his eyes flowing with guilt.

Jaskier might just be the death of him.

“Fuck. Just don’t pull this again.” Geralt softens his tone, knowing how unfair the request is when such things are out of Jaskier’s control, but the bard replies in earnest.

“I won’t. I swear.”

Exhaustion washes over the bard once again, making him look a lot older than he is. From the looks of it, Jaskier has been working in these camps for months and the last thing he needs is an unsupportive friend.

And Geralt doesn’t intend to become one.

“And you are dressed like this because?” Geralt nudges Jaskier in the shoulder to ease the apprehension on his face.

“Funny you should ask.” The bard presses his lips into a thin line before continuing. “I may have lied—nay, implied—that the seven degrees I acquired at Oxenfurt included…medicine. Hold on! Before you judge, I do know how to care for pox patients. I caught it as a child too and that’s why I’ve been fine this whole time.”

“Hmm. But you don’t have the—”

“The scars. No thanks to my grandmother’s secret healing salve that she insisted on keeping secret. It worked like a charm back then, almost like magic. We’ve been trying to replicate from whatever I remember. The mint is helping a little but something is still missing. Oh, well.” The bard rubs his fingers at the hem of his scrub. “Perhaps that explains all these crazy rumors about her heritage, with all her herbs and teas that always miraculously cured everybody. Honestly, I don’t even blame them.”

Geralt muses the possibility of Jaskier’s grandmother not being completely human and makes a silent decision to unpack it later.

“Then I guess your personal experience should come in handy if we are going to stay here for a while.”

“We? You are staying?”

“The exits are still closed.” Geralt tilts his head in nonchalance. “Might as well lend them a hand.”

And never take his eyes off of Jaskier again.

“That’s…wonderful, in a terrible, terrible way. Being trapped in the same place during a plague. Gods, that sounds like something out of the cheesiest romance novel.” Jaskier gasps as soon as the words are out. The smile on his face blossoms into a heated blush.

“Just promise me one thing, Jask.”

“What?” The cornflower blue eyes uncharacteristically avoid Geralt in a vain attempt to hide how flustered he is.

Don’t scare me like this again.

Don’t get taken from me.

Don’t leave me.

“Read less romance novels. Once this blows over,” Geralt answers, finally.

The fluttering in his chest returns, although this time for a completely different reason. The reason not being how adorable Jaskier looks embarrassed and rosy-cheeked.

No. Definitely not.

“Little Simon asleep?”

Geralt asks as he stokes the fire, watching Jaskier struggle out of the sweat-soaked scrub and throw it into the laundry pile. The bard sits down next to him on the log with a groan and leans into his arm.

“As flattered as I am that he can’t fall asleep without my songs, it does get a bit taxing to sing every night while kneeling on the floor.”

“The kid is sick. Can’t blame him for having bad taste in music.”

The jab would have landed better if he isn’t wrapping his arm around Jaskier so that he can rest his head on Geralt’s shoulder. The days are too long even with most of the patients released home, and it’s been taking a toll on Jaskier.

“Cruel to me when I’m down, huh?”

Under Geralt’s palm, it’s unmistakable that Jaskier’s arm isn’t as thick as it once was, and he really doesn’t want to think about how the sharp of Jaskier’s jaw is becoming more prominent by the day.

Geralt rubs gently up and down Jaskier’s bicep to draw a contented purr out of him.

“Hmm. Now you’re forgiven.” Jaskier nuzzles into the crook of Geralt’s neck so his muscles loosen under the ministration. “It’s so unfair that a shift never wears you out like the rest of us, my dear. So unfair that you don’t need as much food too. I’d kill for some witcher superpowers these days.”

“Trust me, you won’t like what they cost.”

The late summer heat, mixed with the smell of sweat in Jaskier’s hair, should make it extremely uncomfortable to be sitting so close, but Geralt only finds it calming to have Jaskier sagging against him.

Jaskier’s thinning shoulder is too worrisome. Geralt will have to leave him most of the dinner rations again. Excuses are so easy to find, once Geralt realized that Jaskier never questions what he’s told about witcher biology, trusting every word from Geralt’s mouth. It’s just a little lie, a little exaggeration.

The bard is rubbing off on him.

“Simon is among the last ones here,” Jaskier says tiredly into Geralt’s neck. “It will soon be over. They are saying everyone can go in a month or so.”

“We can go even now.”

The prospect of traveling again stirs up something hopeful under Geralt’s skin, prickling with excitement, but he knows more patience is required for now.

“Nah, I should at least see little Simon home. You were right that the boy has suffered enough. The fever is terrible. Even I still have nightmares about it after so many years. It’s excruciating, almost like death is trying to mock you. One moment a fire burns through your whole body, the next it swallows you whole into this…nothingness, cold and alone.”

Geralt tightens his hold and breathes in the melancholic scent emanating from Jaskier’s skin.

“It was my grandmother, again. She sang the same lullaby to me every night, kept me sane. It’s helping little Simon too.”

“It’s in elvish,” Geralt murmurs absently when Jaskier is close to drifting off. The bard’s leveled breathing fans over the collar of Geralt’s neck.

“…hmm?”

“Nothing. Maybe for later.”

Geralt’s fingers reach the side of Jaskier’s head and thread between the soft brown locks, keeping his drooping head in place for the nap. When he looks down to where Jaskier casually drapes over half of his body, the two of them almost melding into one, Geralt is suddenly hit with how much their relationship has changed over the past few years, and at the same time, how it feels completely natural like puzzles fitting into place.

This newfound intimacy should scare Geralt, but strangely, it doesn’t. Maybe it’s because the witcher has learned long ago to treasure his bard as a companion and friend, to protect him and care for him, even without ever admitting it out loud.

Maybe he should.

And what would he even say? Geralt is equally elated and stumped at the thought of the two of them growing into something more. If the fluttering in his chest is a result of loving Jaskier, the bard deserves to know, and he deserves the best words.

Geralt scoffs softly when he realizes that he’d kill for something completely opposite. Not the strength of a witcher, but the silver tongue of a bard, the ability to weave the most beautiful prose to describe what Jaskier means to him.

The summer cicadas are singing with renewed vigor, the sizzling sound disrupting his train of thought. For now, Geralt will need to content himself in simply being with Jaskier.

And, perhaps, in pressing a tiny kiss into his soft brown hair as well. Under the night sky, only the stars will know.

I didn't know plague doctor Jaskier could be a thing until I started writing this chapter, and the ending just had to make way for it. Sorry that the chapter count has gone up. I promise hugs are cuddles are on the way! <3

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @birdsflyhome @dapandapod @artisanbaguette

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #geralt x jaskier #soft geralt #hug a witcher day #soft jaskier #cw: plague #guess this should be a warning #protective geralt #essi daven #jaskier sings to children

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

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I wish you would write a fic where tk has a bad day with his depression and can’t even get out of bed and is so anxious and carlos helps make sure he’s okay and takes care of him :)

holly's august extravaganza day 12: let me love you when your heart is tired

anon i sincerely apologise for turning your prompt into a personal therapy session. i want to put an extra warning on this fic because it deals heavily with themes of depression and there are a couple of lines that could be interpreted as suicidal. it's taken from my own personal experiences of depression, and i do not claim to speak for anyone else suffering from this.

if you think this fic could trigger you in any way, please don't read. stay safe folks 💚💚

ao3 | 1.1k | depression, mental illness, implied suicidal thoughts, hurt/comfort

TK knows it’s going to be a bad day from the moment he opens his eyes. Exhaustion settles heavy into his bones, his entire body a dead weight, like he’s chained to the mattress with a hundred tonnes piled on top of him. This pressure, this tiredness—it’s all he can feel, all he knows; it’s all-consuming, and far too familiar.

Slowly, slowly, each twitch like he’s moving mountains, he inches his hand blindly across the bed to reach out for Carlos. If he can just feel his boyfriend, if he can just see him—

But, of course. Carlos has a shift today. TK has a vague recollection of him getting out of bed at five this morning, rousing him with a shift to the mattress and a gentle kiss on the forehead.

If this were a normal day, he might smile at the memory.

He can’t remember if he’s supposed to go to work today. He thinks, maybe, it might be a day off, but he honestly doesn’t know. And… He’s not sure he cares. No, he knows he doesn’t. His chest feels like it’s gaping and empty, but still there’s no room for anything inside. They’ll be better off without him anyway, if he does in fact have a shift; there’s no way he could competently insert an IV or bandage a wound when lifting a finger is a near impossible task right now.

Rolling onto his back takes two minutes longer than it should, the sheets getting trapped under his body in a way he can’t bring himself to fix and his arm bouncing freely when it lands on the mattress. The weight tying him down has shifted now, sitting squarely on top of his chest, turning even breathing into a chore.

He can breathe, it’s just… It would be so much easier not to. It would be so much easier if he could just close his eyes and drift away from it all for a little while, and maybe when he next woke up things would be different. Better.

Get up, his mind tells him, unbidden.

And TK would love to, truly. His eyes fix on the door, but it may as well be a million miles away for how easy it seems to get to.

Get up, again, get up, get up, get up.

TK sighs, a long exhale that makes the weight feel that bit heavier.

Get up.

He scratches his nails along the bottom sheet.

Get up.

His arms tremble as his muscles work against their will to push him semi-upright.

Get up.

He almost falls back down, but somehow he doesn’t. Somehow, he manages to get his legs over the side of the bed, back bent with the weight of the effort it’s taken to get here. Standing takes even more time and walking is another matter entirely, his brain, just as slow as the rest of his body, having to coach him through each and every step.

When he finally gets downstairs—

(and, god, the stairs. tk had stood at the top of them for too many minutes to count, staring down and resisting the urge to give up then and there. he thought he’d fall on the way down, then thought that maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. by the time he got to the bottom, the whole ordeal was already starting to fall into a distant memory, like it had happened to someone else)

—When he finally gets downstairs, he doesn’t bother with a bowl, or a spoon, or any of the normal breakfast requirements. He carelessly pulls a box of cereal from the cupboard and digs into it with his hand, but it tastes like dust on his tongue and sticks in his throat, and he barely manages to chew twice before realising that this, too, is more effort than it’s worth.

He’s not even sure why he came down here. He’s not hungry, or he doesn’t think he is.

The box gets abandoned on the counter, and TK begins the arduous process of dragging himself back upstairs, his entire body aching for bed.

The next few hours pass in a haze, TK alternating between scrolling mindlessly on his phone and staring blankly at the ceiling, or whichever spot is within his eyeline. He’s not picky. No messages come through from his dad or Tommy or the team, so he guesses he didn’t have a shift, which is probably lucky. One does appear from Carlos, letting him know that he’s going to be back later than expected due to a massive pile-up.

TK sends a thumbs up back, but his heart sinks even further.

He must fall asleep at some point, because after what feels like a blink, the room is significantly darker than he remembers it being and there are noises coming from somewhere in the house. TK’s brain is on a lag, so he barely registers the sounds as something to potentially be worried about before the bedroom door opens, revealing Carlos on the other side.

“Hey,” he says, smiling softly. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

TK blinks at his boyfriend, taking a second to remember how to work his tongue, then responds, “S’okay.” The words are little more than a breath, and his eyes drift shut almost as soon as they’re out, his energy back to zero after the exertion.

He hears Carlos coming closer, then the sound of something being placed on the nightstand, near his head. A hand strokes down his face and lips brush his forehead, the touches light and feeling like both too much and not enough all at once.

“I got you some water,” Carlos whispers. “Think you can drink some, sweetheart?”

TK forces his eyes open again, catching sight of a glass, a granola bar sitting next to it. Carlos helps him to sit up, and TK takes the water in a trembling hand, managing a few sips, though a couple of drops spill over onto the sheets. He flops back down as soon as the glass is safely back on the nightstand, spent, but the smile Carlos gives him makes it worth it.

The granola bar goes ignored, but Carlos doesn’t push the issue. Instead, he walks round to his side of the bed and sits, propping the pillows up and settling himself so that TK’s head rests against his waist. A second later, there’s a hand in TK’s hair, brushing gently back and forth, the rhythmic motion doing what words can’t and settling something inside him.

The weight isn’t gone, but it has lessened, if only by a tiny bit.

Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #lone star #911ls #tw depression #holly's august extravaganza #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #anonymous #so sorry for how delayed this is!

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venushasvixens · 3 years

Text

Ch. 9 Home? - Life is but a Dream (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

[A/N] I promise I’m going to get to requests. Enjoy the chapter!

WARNING: implied child abuse? (Nothing happens but it can still be uncomfy)

The soft creak of the second story window was the only sound in your shared bedroom. Having been sent upstairs and denied a meal for the millionth time this week, you were desperate for anything to eat. It wasn’t like the orphanage was barely surviving, but honestly you think the caretaker had something out for you. Always picking on you, calling you names, and finding any excuse to punish you. All around known as the caretaker’s personal punching bag.

“Now I can see why you were dropped off here.” She would say, before taking the plate of food from in front of you and dumping it into the trash.

With your lips sealed shut, you trudged up the stairs, sad little eyes tearing up. Any back talk would result in something far worse. The wilts on your back still stung days after your punishment, an example and demonstration of the cruelness of life.

Like a rabid animal, you were willing to receive any kind of punishment just to quiet the pain in your stomach. Grateful for the bushes located underneath your second story window, you swung your legs over the ledge, preparing to jump. With a small humph, you landed softly on your feet. Leaves and small branches pricked at your thighs as you wobbled out of the bushes. You gripped the small pouch of coins in your pocket, running your fingers over the opening of the bag.

A childish dream that a few coins were your ticket to everywhere and anywhere. The city you lived in was labeled as UN-1889, which was far into its development to retain its old name. Unofficially called “Yun” by the locals, it also held the record of absolutely nothing exciting or entertaining. Crime was moderate, chain restaurants and shopping centers were the place of excitement and that was it. Vowing to leave and never come back, you made sure to keep that promise by collecting and stashing away any money you could get your hands on. In the end, the most you had in your possession was enough to buy half a ticket, and you were ready to blow it all off in a matter of minutes on something that will only last seconds.

You spotted the bright, blue neon lights of the only local diner in the area. Parents looking to adopt will do nothing but rave about this place. Hearing just how good the food sounded compared to the gruel you were forced to eat every day, it made your mouth water and your stomach do flips. Jogging up to the entrance, you quickly opened the door to the diner. Air condition hit your dirty, sweaty face, cooling you down instantly. Much to your surprise, there was not one patron in the diner. Leaning against the counter was a middle aged woman with her hair pulled back tightly in a bun. She stared at the TV in the corner, sighing deeply. As the door closed, your presence was made known.

One look was all it took for her to know everything about you.

“Oh great, another one.” She mumbled from where she stood. “What do you want?”

“Food. I’m hungry.” You replied annoyingly.

“Have any money?” She asked, standing up straight.

You dug into your pocket, grabbed the bag of coins and held it out to the waitress. Snatching it out of your hand, she emptied the contents onto the counter. Shifting through the coins lazily, she huffed.

“Kid, this isn’t even enough for a plate.” She poured the coins back into the bag, tossing it back at you. “Door’s over there.”

Too tired and weak to fight, you slumped your way out, disappointed and embarrassed.

“Hey wait!” You heard someone shouting. You turned around, seeing another woman popping out from the kitchen. Her soft, platinum blond curls bounced as she walked out to stop you from leaving. Ringlets of silver hung from her ears and wrists, clanking softly as she motioned you to come closer. “Are you from the orphanage down the street?”

You nodded vigorously.

“I know how she treats those babies over there. You come on over and get yourself something to eat.” She said, tapping on the counter.

“I don’t have enough for-“ you started. She waved her hand, her signal for no ands, if, or buts. As you pranced over, you heard the waitress groan.

“Lou, you can’t be serious.” She muttered.

Lou held her hand up. “I don’t like seeing children go hungry. It’s not right.”

“Pick whatever you like.” She smiled, handing over a menu to you. Everything looked so delicious and tempting. You only see people like this on TV. It seems so fake, portraying kindness in a sickening, sweet way. It was enough to hurt your teeth.

You watched in adoration as Lou passed you a basket of warm rolls, butter shimmering off the golden buns. Forget manners. You gobbled down the bread in minutes, hiccuping softly. You weren’t focused on trying to quiet your hiccups down, just to fill your empty stomach.

“My goodness, slow down.” Lou chuckled, placing a cup of water next to you. “What’s your name, baby?”

“It’s (Y/N).” You replied, mouth still full of bread.

“(Y/N). Now is that your actual name or was it given to you by that devil woman?”

“It’s my actual name. They tried to change it, but decided to keep it.” You said, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Lou handed you a few napkins. “I swear that lady does not like anything or anyone. An all around horrible person.”

You nodded sadly, trying to dissipate the knowledge that you were probably going to receive the harshest punishment you have ever had in your short life when you came back “home”. As your stomach was dropping at the thought of your imminent demise, Lou slid your plate of food in front of you. Eating a basket of rolls wasn’t enough at all. This food looked better than anything you consumed at the orphanage.

While Lou and the waitress babbled and bickered, the static and switch of the TV in the corner was the only noise in the room. Eventually the waitress decided to settle on the local news. Expansion of some parts of the city, a deadly crash near the asteroid belt, and so on and so on. Suddenly, the screen flashed with the words BREAKING NEWS splayed on the screen.

The news reporter quickly tapped through her data pad, smiled and addressed the viewers.

“Good evening, we bring to you some breaking news. The criminal Kedo, who was wanted on both planets Earth and Ganymede for the murders of multiple people, has been caught right here in UN-1889.”

The reporter then drone on about his crimes, and how he left his trail. You chewed slowly, hanging onto every word. Crime was at a middle to low level, but you have never seen something as large as this.

“It has been reported by BIG SHOT, a new TV program broadcasted specially for bounty hunters in the solar system, that Kedo’s bounty had jumped from 500,000 woolong to over a million woolong.” Your eyes widened. To a small child, one million woolong was a whole lot more than what it actually was. You were probably never going to see that sort of money in your lifetime. All the possibilities of having that much money ran through your head. The first was getting the hell out of this city.

“We are informed that the courageous bounty hunter, or huntress, known as Lady Jo, caught Kedo red-handed in hiding right here in UN-1889.” The reporter stated.

The screen switched to live coverage at the police station, cameras flashing and reporters clamoring to get a closer look at the infamous criminal who was now being led into the building in handcuffs. His hair disheveled, eyes scanning his surroundings like crazy, fitting a perfect description of a crazed murderer. The cameras shifted their attention to Jo, standing proudly with her hand resting on her holster.

Intrigue and fascination filled you. You couldn’t help but watch in awe of her. Her auburn hair was curly and volumized, laying softly on her shoulders, eyes a striking green that shone like emeralds in the harsh lights of the TV crews. The waitress scoffed at her outfit, which consisted of a revealing button up white shirt, tucked into black leather pants, with a matching jacket. She was truly a sight to see.

“Can you believe that? She’s not a cowgirl, she’s a goddamn model.” She said.

Lou snorted. “You know, I used to have an outfit just like that.”

You smiled back, finishing your plate. Not wanting to take your eyes off the TV, the silverware clattered loudly onto the plate.

“I’ll tell you what, there is absolutely no honor in being a bounty hunter. They’re rude, selfish, and I hate every last one of them. Especially Lady what’s-her-name right here.” The waitress nagged, taking your empty plate.

“They can do a way better job than actual law enforcement.” Lou retorted.

You didn’t pay attention to their conversation. If there wasn’t any honor I’m your choice, so be it. Your new bottom line was set into place. One million woolong was going to be a possibility for you, one way or another.

Jet sat at the navigation console on the bridge, pressing buttons at a lightning fast speed. On his right side was the computer TV, playing some late night television as background noise. Faye stood near the windows, smoking a cigarette and looking out into the nighttime sky. There was something that must have been discussed.

As she opened her mouth to speak, Jet sighed and got up. “I went ahead and placed our coordinates for our next bounty back on Mars. Should only be a week.”

“Dinner was a little off, don’t you think?” Faye said, ignoring Jet.

Jet’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying something about my cooking?”

“What? No. I meant with-“

“With Spike and (Y/N)? Then yes, there is something off with them. I’ve noticed it since we got back home the other day.” Jet said.

“So much more talkative, that’s for damn sure. Couldn’t keep up with it.” Faye replied as she descended the steps to the navigation console.

“The big baby wasn’t all too happy about her staying with us. So I wonder why he’s acting all buddy buddy with her.”

Faye chuckled, a sly upturn of the mouth growing on her face. “Hmm, sounds like someone is jealous.”

Looking up from the console, Jet scoffed. “I’m more than happy that I’m not playing therapist anymore. Everyday it was, “did you see the way she did this” or “did you see the way how she did that”. At that point, I should’ve started charging Spike.”

Faye had given some deep thought since dinner. The outline was in plain sight. A touch on the back. A squeeze on the shoulder. A tap on the thigh. It thrilled Faye to be the only one to know of the growing tension between Spike and (Y/N), to be the one to hold a secret without being told of it. But in the midst of the excitement, there was another feeling circling, weaving it way into her head. Jealousy.

It hurts to see couples walking by, hand in hand, romantically flaunting each other openly. Bothering Faye for a second, she knew she didn’t have to go home with them. But now that it was only a few feet from her, it was going to be a problem.

If the game doesn’t go as planned, someone has to interfere to ensure a win. And Faye did not like losing.

The computer TV turned to static as Jet flipped through the channels, trying to find the right program to end the night on. Settling on tonight’s showing of Big Shot, he leaned against the console, pondering about dinner. A conversation consisting of 100 words and more between Spike and (Y/N) was non-existent for the time that she had been staying on the Bebop. One afternoon alone, and suddenly they’re two peas in a pod.

We’ll just see how it goes, Jet thought.

A big red WARNING sign displayed on the screen, waking Jet and Faye right up.

“Folks, it seems we have an important message to relay to all bounty hunters in the solar system from the ISSP.”Punch said, his playful, exaggerated facade never faltering.

“Go ahead, we are all dying to know!” Judy replied, apparently cheerful about a serious topic at hand.

“Bounty hunters, look out! A mysterious criminal is on the loose, and his target is not the innocent civilians of the solar systems, but our esteemed, hard working hunters.”

“What makes him so bad, anyway?” Judy questioned.

“I’m glad you asked! Some of our amigos already know what we are talking about. There have been multiple reported incidents of hunting vessels being set ablaze with the intent of murder all across the system. The ISSP believes that this individual is ONLY targeting bounty hunters, and no one else.”

“Mysterious you say? Well goodness, looks like there’s no bounty for them yet!”

“Right you are. Until we get a face and a name, no dinero can be placed for the bounty. So be aware, and be safe out there, buckeroos!” Punch finished, smiling alongside Judy. Knowing they were playing a character, it was off putting by the serious news given.

Jet and Faye looked at each other in silence, eyes wide and full of questions.

Happy hunting, amigos.

#fanfiction #faye valentine #90s anime #cowboy bebop #jet black #spike spiegel x reader #spike spiegel headcanons #spike spiegel #see you space cowboy #radio free mars #you’re going to carry that weight

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kaypeace-21 · 3 years

Text

Possible film easteregg for st may foreshadow s4/5 interactions of Will &Lonnie.

While looking at all the films on the s4 st list that were in San Fernando (since it may be where the Byers move to according to leaks) . fyi: it was alot of the s4 films. I saw a movie ( not on the list ) that may have been inspo too.

* the colors and over all design: mostly white. yellow lines on the legs/collars/and cuffs, matching yellow belts,hats,socks, and undershirts . The "bears" and "tigers " written in black on the front. It SEEMS LIKE A FILM EASTERGG. I Wouldn't be surprised if this 70s film "bad news bears" was inspo. One baseball player in the film was even named Billy.I watched the remake/ original and both have a focus on 1 player and their ab*sive dad. In the original/ remake he left his family years ago and begs his kid to join his baseball team. In the original the reason he asks his kid to join is to make money off the baseball league he coaches- and he remembers how his kid was a good baseball player. Which if that doesn't sound like lonnie who literally tried to make money off Will's death. I don’t know what else does. Ofcourse, he wouldn’t be above explo*ting Will to make money off of baseball. Uuugh. A lot of the canon s4 movies also reference baseball too.

First encounter after years apart- he comes visit with no warning after not seeing them in years to ask them to join his baseball team. And the kid says no and to leave.

*love how in the og version she senses the money sh*t from a mile away (although I do wonder if Will knows about the money scam around his death or not? Or if it could just be in reference to his debts-which Joyce mentioned?).

Than they discuss him abandoning the family .

Then he’s like yep “sorry I abandoned you” so anyways baseball...

When they say “no” he has the audacity to pull the ‘i fathered you so you “owe” me ‘ card ( literally right after the whole abandonment convo). This is when the kids call him out for being a drunkard.

And the kids pretty much call him out for always being a sh*t dad even when around . Both films they call him out as drunk*rd but also list different reasons too.

*the rat ref is interesting cause although mf’s can control rats in d&d . The rat ref would then also connect to Will’s past like how pretty much all the supernatural connects to Will one way or another. The canon movies also had rat references-in relation to k*lling. This guy in this is a rat exterminator- so... yeah implications similar to Jonathan’s rabbit story too. Also, in the remake, right before seeing his kid again ( he talks about how lying is the best policy cause people prefer the lie over the truth) . The opposite of ‘friends don’t lie’ . The dad lists examples of lies he’s personally done “i used to do it all the time... I don’t smoke...she told me she was 18″ can Lonnie just d*e PLEASE!!!)

In the remake after his kid told him ‘ no’ and tell him to leave- he pretty much tries every other tactic to get his kid to join. Following them to work and asking constantly-and the kid calls them a “st*lker” for doing so. (I’ve already mentioned how st*lking is meant to be bad when done in the st romances- so connecting it to Lonnie is pretty much a perfect way to establish that and show how creepy Lonnie is to Will in general). After pestering doesn’t work, he tries reverse psychology, bribes them with money for a car, and when they still say no. He pulls the woe is me card i’m so sad . And unfortunately the empathetic Will would fall for that- sigh.

The original is different in the fact he tries other messed up tactics: after the first rejection . He comes again to see her and calls her fat -and when the kid says that not true . He’s like “well ...you will eventually get fat ( unless you play baseball)” . And then he goes on an on about how she won’t get hurt and to not be afraid. Her response to that- is that she’s npt afraid and she just doesn’t want to play .

Then he tries reverse psychology and bribing with money -which is what works.

I think the remake’s reason will probably be the main reason Will would join though -but i could see the reasons for Will being multifaceted. The baseball scene of Will trying to prove to his dad he can still play (before joining) could be integrated into st.It’s also established in the original -the kid practiced when the dad was away which is sad but fits how Will has a baseball in his room in s2, and a bat in castle byers, in s3. The whole “you won’t get hurt” angle also fits with s3 Neil saying to Billy after a baseball game “What afraid you’’ll get hurt/no/ then what??!!!” Lonnie may say something similar to establish another parallel between himself and Neil.

Also there is a bit where every time he tries to light a cigar/cigarette in his car- his kid throws it out the window knowing it pisses him off. cause she knows she has leverage-which I shouldn’t laugh but anything that makes lonnie suffer is humerous in my book.

The worst scene that is quintessential Lonnie:and is in both films, and happens after his kid does indeed get hurt in the game (specifically their arm-nothing serious though). In the remake while icing her arm she mentions how they should go surfing like they did when she was younger (cough Billy parallel /alter hint). in the remake he says he doesn’t even remember that and must have been drunk when he took her. And (in both versions) he then says if he “wanted to play house (aka dad)”he would have called her in those years after he left her mother. And he only cares about her arm - not being a dad. in the original after saying this, he implies she’s dumb to think otherwise and purposely throws/spills his beer into her face to make his point . After this drink incident- she chuckles and says it’s not a big deal but when she walks away we see she was holding back tears.

I HATE Lonnie!

#will byers #billy hargrove #Lonnie byers #niel hargrove #stranger things theory #stranger things

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ktheist · 4 years

Note

hi :) how about vampire!tae + prompt list #2, angst, #16? ❤️❤️

16. “I know for a fact that you’re not ‘fine’.”

muses. vampire! yandere!taehyung x college student!reader ft childhood fuck buddy!jeongguk

warnings. implied smut, yandere!taehyung, mentions of adultery, alcohol, smoking.

you never had a sliver of chance with kim taehyung.

not because you’d wandered down the hallway in the middle of the night to get some water to quench your thirst and happened to hear the sounds from your parents’ slightly ajar bedroom door that had you running to the bathroom and hurl your guts out into the toilet bowl.

nor because, after the incident, you’d later found out the friend your mother’s been spending too much of the time with was the same man that made it to your parents’ bed.

but because kim taehyung was an unsatiable beast.

a monster hungry for the blood running through your veins.

“wh-what are you-” a finger slants over your mouth, a gentle yet threatening voice following suit.

“you don’t wanna wake your darling mother, do you?” you’ve taken to the darkness since a young age, you can’t see anything and nothing can see you - a little comforting trick your father once told you to ease that fear for monsters under your bed.

he was wrong.

because the monster who has his knee wedged between your legs and hand pinning down your wrists over your head - has eyes as red as blood and luminescent as the moon.

“i followed that woman because she’s always had this sweet scent to her,” the hymns that trickles out of his mouth almost made you believe that he was an angel, just a little bit misguided but still a beautiful, breathtaking angel.

“she tasted better than the rest but,” something sharp grazes down the delicate skin on your neck as his chilly breath sends shivers down your spine, “if it wasn’t for her, i wouldn’t have found you, my little hummingbird.”

“what do you mean you want a divorce?!”

the first sound of fist slamming against something hard comes not even a year later. you thought to tell your father but it turns out he already knows. it’s your mother that’s fiercely arguing to keep the marriage intact.

was it the night you saw them together? or did he know way before?

the image of two bodies melded against each other burns at the back of your mind. you can almost taste the bile coming up from the sudden but not surprising need to vomit.

“...hated you! you never have time for me anymore.” a pause hangs over the ceiling as you admire the cityscape, the lights don’t blink like smoldering fire eating away at your cigarette, “is it that new assistant of yours? she must be good, huh?”

“miyeon, are you nuts?! she’s 20 years younger than me!” your father sounds like he’s the one on the verge of losing his mind trying to explain things to your mother.

“whatever,” you breathe out through your mouth, the smoke disappearing into thin air, “i’m leaving next week anyway.”

“oh? you’re leaving? already? but you just got back from your break,” a familiar voice vibrates in your ears and makes your toes curl inward.

thankfully, they’re hidden underneath your blanket.

“it was a mistake to come back,” the amber ring hisses for the briefest moment when you drop the bud into the half-filled glass of water even though the ashtray’s a little stretch away from the glass, “though at this rate, i should start looking for an apartment to rent.”

“you can always come and live with me,” the bed dips where the monster takes his seat, the hand on your knee is as cold as ever.

“tae,” you whimper, feeling the heat creep up your neck and spreading over your face as the aforementioned man - no, taehyung is no man, he’s a monster - starts kissing down your inner thigh and pulling your leg over his shoulder.

“i’ll make you forget everything,” garnet eyes staring into you like a sure promise, all you have to do is-

“c-can you eat me out?” you look away, shame and embarrassment filling your chest.

the monster smiles yet you’ve never seen emptier eyes, “with pleasure.”

not long after you moved out for good, the divorce finally took place. the long winded battle ends with your mother getting the matrimonial apartment but your dad’s got a few other he can live in.

oh, and he gifted you one too just before he signed the papers along with a trust fund that could support you and your future family.

not that you’d ever be able to have one.

a normal one, that is.

“aren’t you smoking too much?” jeongguk’s finger trails down your spine, “have you been eating healthy?”

puckering your mouth, you breathe out the ring shaped smoke into the air, watching it gradually fade away.

“that’s too much question for someone who couldn’t care less about what i’m doing with my life,” you let out a dry laugh.

friends since childhood and fuck buddies since first year of college. taehyung came and go like the wind, so you needed another person to make you forget. jeongguk stepped into boxes-filled house and right into your unmade bed.

silence hangs over you like foreboding clouds.

maybe you shouldn’t have said anything.

nothing good came out of biting your tongue so you say whatever you want, did whatever-

“oh, you have a guest,” a familiar soothe of baritone rings in your ears as the chilling air licks your naked skin.

“tae, i didn’t know you were gonna drop by,” you say, even after all these years, your heart still skips a beat at the sight of those glowing red eyes.

the bed shifts as jeongguk slips out from under the covers, not quite caring that his pride and glory is out in display. well, guess he’s just that confident. muscular back and thick thighs, you would’ve made an onlyfans if you had a body like a greek god too.

the greek god didn’t even bother to button up his shirt when he turns to you, abs and all, and places a kiss on the top of your head, “i’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

you blink, watching him with befuddled thoughts as he winks before he walks out of the door.

taehyung’s sigh as the bed dips is what snaps you out of your trance, “so you got a new play thing.”

“take it off,” this time, you have an ashtray you keep underneath your bed and pick up whenever you smoke. so you put out the bud and slide the ashtray back to that spot just below where your pillow would be.

“such an impatient hummingbird,” he chuckles but his hands glides over the buttons of his shirt anyway, “how long have you been together?”

“we’re not together,” you take a sip of the water from the bottle you keep on your nightstand and wipe the stray droplet that trails down your chin with the back of your hand, “why does it matter anyway? you’re here for a fuck, aren’t you? then shut up,” his muscles flex under your touch as you yank him down in his mid-undressed state, the first few buttons of his shirt are undone, revealing a strong, tight chest, “and fuck me.”

his eyes glow like a diamond underneath chandeliers, brighter than the times you’ve gazed into them. fiercer than the fleeting moments where he’d look at you and only you.

instead of devouring you right then and there, his hand, calloused yet gentle, pushes your hair to the back of your ear. his thumb lingering on your bottom lip, “you... did you think i only came here to do that?”

it’s the way he says it - as if he’s thought of you as more than a human toy - that’s what brings out the sneer from your face, “what? are you playing the good guy now? i guess you should change it up every once in awhile, shouldn’t you? it gets boring being the same monster for centuries.”

for the briefest moment, he looks like he’s about to snap your neck in half - it wouldn’t be that hard, especially with his large hand. he could wrap it around your delicate throat and-

“humans really are weak creatures,” he sighs, arms bringing you down to his chest, hugging you to his body unusually warm body - or is it your body that’s too hot that his ice cold built feels touchable?

you want to push him away, scream that it’s because of him that you’re like this, that you had a whole life ahead of you if you didn’t love him like you do. but there’s something - a lump stuck in your throat, and for some reason, your face is wet with tears you can’t control.

funny how taehyung stays longer than he would with just a little tears. and to think you gave him all of you just to be held for a night by a monster and wake up to an empty bed the next day.

well, you did wake up to an empty bed that morning too but there’s a beep of the door and the sound of it clicking open and close a moment later before taehyung walked in with bags of takeouts that was too much for a human and vampire to finish.

said he didn’t know what you like so he went with a variety of choices from the times he remembered you mentioning the foods you’d enjoyed.

you only ate a small portion before excusing yourself for a smoke even though manners and etiquette had never been in your books when kim taehyung is involved.

“i know for a fact that you’re not ‘fine’,” his eyes bore into yours, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a straight, frustrated line.

so monsters can make that kind of face too.

“mom knew,” the words almost didn’t make it out but the look in his eyes was so very human - well, almost fooled you into believing. you cross your arms over your chest, running your palms up and down your arm as if to heat yourself up, “she knew the reason her lover suddenly left her was because of me - every time she looks at me, it’s like she’s seeing something insightful. after the divorce, she told me she didn’t want to see me anymore - that i wasn’t her daughter moving forward.”

“i didn’t think miyeon was that kind of person...” taehyung laughs, but the laugh sounds as dry as the ones you’ve been making, “i knew she was a wicked woman for having a lover-”

“but you still slept with her,” you interject, the room is so awfully cold, “you slept with a wife and a mother and discarded her for her daughter - so don’t you dare judge her, kim taehyung.”

you say yet you have no right to get mad at him. kim taehyung is a monster and he doesn’t pretend to be something else. but you?

oh, you knew he just got done fucking your mother when he slipped into your room and placed his hands where he shouldn’t. yet you still let him in, gave him a part of your heart even though he only wanted your body and blood.

and just as you’re about to give the last of piece of your beating heart, kim taehyung takes a step forward, reaches out his hand and gathers you in his arms.

you’re left gripping that last part of your heart to your chest as he cradles you like a baby. like a cub that barely knows how to hunt.

you end up going up to the rooftop. the fresh air helps you think clearer but in your haste to get away from the monster you’re homing, you’ve forgotten to grab the reason you stormed out here. so you’re left with nothing but a layer of shirt and a gust of wind blowing past until the sun sets.

“hey you,” jeongguk calls - you know it’s him because no one has the nerve to talk to you like that on campus, but you don’t stop. you keep walking, “you little- you’re planning to skip again, aren’t you?”

something wraps around your wrist and twirls your around to face a red as tomato jeongguk.

“chill, professor min doesn’t even care if people attend his classes or not,” you place the hand he’s not holding on your hip.

after you spent half a day on the rooftop, you came back to an empty apartment. it’s almost kim taehyung was never there. yet the were traces of washed containers drying on the dish rack from the takeouts, the bed that is usually unmade even sports a new set of sheets, your astray is cleaned and your laundry is gone (it returned in a form of a call from a drycleaning place).

“it’s not about him not caring,” he counters, forehead creasing, “it’s about you - you... i haven’t seen you since last week and the first thing you do after the first class of the day is skip the next?”

“yeah, okay, this twisted sense of righteousness is not for me,” you finally yank your hand out of his grasp, “you do you but don’t rope me into it - even if it’s good for me. sometimes people don’t wanna be saved, jeongguk.”

you thought he’d look at you with disappointment like your father does. the man would put up a poor excuse of a smile and pat your head but as soon as he turns away, he’d look like he was in his own world. like he didn’t just talk to his daughter not even a second ago.

“well,” jeongguk sighs, “if you’re gonna skip, at least take me with you.”

“what?” you blink, surprised.

“hold up, let me get my bag,” he announces, running back to where you both came from.

you debate on leaving him after a minute but he comes running from around the corner and looking relieved that you’re still there.

you went to the karaoke, had a few drinks, went for dinner and drank some more. for the first time in a long time, the hollowed part in your chest where your heart used to be until you gave it to a monster that didn’t deserve it - feels alive again.

“you know, i forgot what it’s like to hang out with friends,” you’re slurring but jeongguk must have understood.

“i can introduce you to some friends,” he offers.

“not those kinds of fake friends that approach you for money,” you grumble, groaning at the remembrance of the faces that smile at you and talks shit behind your back when they thought you were out of earshot.

“there’s those kinds of people too, huh?” jeongguk laughs as if he missed ‘those kinds of people’ now that he barely had time to get ripped off from them.

“well, i don’t want your money. i got my own.” he confesses a moment later with the cutest grin - as if the monstority of the world hadn’t touched him one bit.

“i know, that’s why i kept you around,” you take another sip of the alcohol, feeling it flow down your throat with more ease than the first time.

“that’s good enough,” he murmurs, glazed eyes staring at the tinted emerald bottle for a little too long before his meets your gaze, lips stuck in a boyish grin.

the rest, you can barely remember.

but all you know is you share a kiss - it’s sweet but sloppy but you feel your cheeks warming all the way home. you didn’t invite jeongguk back - you couldn’t bring yourself to wrap him around your little fingers like you’ve been doing. and he must have known of your wishes if he looked at you with such conflicted gaze.

the apartment is loomed with shadows from every angle, save for the walled window across the room where the cityscape twinkles, as if welcoming you back. you sigh, at least you’ve made a home out of this place.

“where have you been?” a cold voice rings in your ears.

the phone you’ve been holding crashes against the ground with a thud.

“no,” it laughs as dry as the hollowness in your chest, “i knew where you were - i could’ve found you if i looked...”

“back for some human pussy?” you ask monotonously, “it’s funny, you know, we can barely go for more than 3 rounds and our bones break easily so you have to hold back all the time. and yet weaklings like us must’ve given you a different sort of pleasure, huh?”

silence lapses in between you.

the glowing garnet eyes shouldn’t bother you as much yet you feel your body heating up as you undress in front of him yet he doesn’t come when you leave the bathroom door ajar.

your heart races at the thought of seeing an empty room when you step out of the door in your bathrobe and freshly washed body. and your heart skips a beat when those garnet eyes meet yours in your not so subtle attempt to find out whether he’s still there, on the one-person couch in the corner of the room.

to think you’ve got less than a scrape of heart left to give.

you huff, not quite sure why you’re suddenly mad. but you pull on your night gown and march to your bed. if he’s going to keep being a creature that lurks within the shadows and refuse to touch you- then you won’t beg for him to.

for the longest time, you keep your eyes close and count to a digit that you can’t remember where you stopped. but sleep doesn’t come easy. you want to turn to your other side but that’ll blow your cover - not that taehyung couldn’t figure out from the sound of your erratic heartbeat.

there’s no telling how long it goes on, with you not managing to grasp a single strand of peace and kim taehyung - you sense him - staying there, just looking at you.

but liberation comes to you with a dip of the bed and the cold breath against your neck.

“i couldn’t do it after all...” he sighs, “i tried to tell myself that i’ll only have you once in awhile when it gets really bad for me but i keep wanting more.”

the kiss on the nape of your neck tickles.

“if you try to run away, i’ll chain your ankles,” he whispers sweet words to your ears, “if you push me away, i’ll strap you to the bedpost.”

there’s no going back now - your heart’s beating too face in your chest. and after the gasp that you just let out when you feel your body twist to lay on your back, hands pinned over your head as your eyelids flutter open to gaze into garnet diamonds - there’s no sleeping your way and pretending you didn’t hear anything to get out of this.

“why- why now? you knew how i felt about you but you left anyway - you left over and over again even if you knew i wanted you to stay,” you glare.

“humans are fickle creatures,” he rests his forehead on yours, “i wanted you to forget about me but my powers don’t work with you... i can’t erase your memories,” he laughs that dry, hopeless laugh, “a part of me wanted you to remember me even when you’re married and surrounded by children of your own. another part of me didn’t want you to run after a monster like me.”

“you think that’s just gonna make up for everything? for the shit you put me through? for ruining my relationship with my parents? for making me unable to have a normal human relationship with anyone?” you grit your teeth, “think again, kim taehyung. i’ll never forgive you. not for as long as i’m alive.”

“that’s fine,” he releases your hand only to pin both of them down together in one grip, his free hand tracing down the side of your face until his thumb finds home on your lips, “i’ll prepare the softest mattress, i’ll enchant the chains so they won’t gnaw at your delicate skin, i’ll be with you every day of your life.”

his lips are cold but your body is warm enough. taehyung bites that skin he calls delicate and licks the blood dry. your nipples are sore from how much he’s ravaging you. the moans that slip out of your mouth are unrestrained. feral, even. as if you’re the beast and he’s the monster.

“tae... taehyung... taehyung...” you murmur his name like you know no other word.

then, when you’re spent and heaving for air, he gathers you in his arms and whispers how good you were.

how very docile you are.

“taehyung,” you murmur, too tired to even open your eyes but the hum he lets out is the softest you’ve heard, “i’ll never let you have my heart.”

for a moment, you think you hear him hold his breath. as if he didn’t expect you to push him even when you’re snuggling up to him as you say so.

you want to laugh, maybe you let out a smile before you fell into deep slumber.

“___! please, help me out! i’ll buy you lunch!” soyeon begs, if you look closer, you might even see a hint of tear in her eyes, “tutor me so i’ll be able to graduate on time, please.”

“i don’t know... i mean, i still remember that time when you stole my chips when i wasn’t looking...” you narrow your eyes at the girl.

you’re in your final year, on the verge of graduating and actually collectively fearing about repeating a semester.

“if it’s chips you want, i’ll buy the whole aisle for you!” she proclaims.

you grin, “deal.”

“i have a bad feeling about this,” mina murmurs, deadpanned.

your phone vibrates with a text from a ‘taetae’, “oh shit, i’m late.”

“hey, ___, will you share some with me?” jongyeon waves to get your attention.

you look back, barely registering what she said, “hm? yeah, sure!”

and because of that, you run straight into a stone hard chest. but before you can feel the impact of the ground, a hand wraps around your arm and pulls you right into the body you just bulldozed.

“you’re late,” garnet eyes bore into you like it’s going to eat you alive.

“i know, you didn’t have to turn up on campus,” you take a step back, “people will notice.”

“that’s not my concern,” taehyung’s brows knit together in frustration and you know why.

something about you not wanting people to know about the monster living with you and showing up to pick you up from class - irks him. no, it eats away at him like a parasite. an ugly little green thing.

after awhile, he lets go of the idea of chains and lets you walk out of that door everyday for classes, holding onto that strand of hope that you’ll walk back in every evening and touch him, give him the littlest amount of attention he doesn’t even deserve.

and when you’re late, he slips out of the window and shows up on campus. those strange looks people give you and him will never cease. but you’ve got more to life than worry about measly little rumors of you an a questionable but exceptionally attractive looking man that shows up to pick you up from time to time.

“i want a boyfriend too,” jongyeon sighs before he calls after taehyung, “hey mr. boyfriend, do you have any cute friends?”

the glare he gives her should be enough to scare a human to her death bed but jongyeon doesn’t seem to notice.

in a way, you’ve gathered quite a bunch that are more like you than you can imagine.

you wave at your friends - your real friends, shaking your head at the way jongyeon’s shooting suggestive looks before you’re completely out of sight for taehyung to wrap his arms around you and take you flying in mid air.

shadows still loom in the apartment. taehyung spends most of his days here - he doesn’t like the light so he never switches them on.

before your feet even lands on the wooden flooring, your pants are already pushed down to the ground. his hand is on your breast, kneading and grasping for your flesh as if he can’t believe you’d here. in his arms.

your heart still races but you made sure taehyung understood that it’s a biological reaction for the excitement that rushes through your body.

and he’s fine with that as he breaks your skin and licks the blood that pours out of the incision.

you want to laugh as you feel his erection twitch in your hand. he doesn’t even bother to hide how desperate he is for you. for your touch. for your attention.

he’s wrapped around your fingers.

and to think you never had a sliver of chance with kim taehyung.

note. this was a wild ride, wasn’t it?? welp, bet the person who requested this did not expect that lmaoooo sorry if this isn’t your cup of tea huehuehue

#taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenario #yandere taehyung #bts fic #taenyung fic #bts scenarios #taehyung scenarios #taehyung x reader #bts x reader #yandere bts #bts fanfic #bts x you #taehyung x you #drabble game 1 #excerpt from a fic i'll never write

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selfships-in-spanish · 3 years

Text

The Queen of Demons 4/?

Pairing: Erwin Smith x OC, Levi Ackerman x OC

Rating: Mature (the rating will go up as the story advances! But it will totally be explicit ;D I even have some smut chapters already half written woooo! But right now just in case)

Warnings: None for now, but sexist and misogynist upbringing (Eva's father is a huge asshole).

Word Count: 8885

ALSO POSTED ON AO3

A/N: FUCKING FINALLY. I was so stuck and had a severe writer's block, but here it is! Part 4! I feel like my writing went down a bit but I hope to make up for it on the next one. Finished, not perfect! I hope you enjoy this one and were we can see a bit more of the vets and the 104 kids ôô

CHAPTER 4: WINTER BLOOM

The pale morning rays of sunlight woke the Princess up, mumbling and turning to her side. Eva heard the distant chirps of birds flying by, as well as the sounds of the village being already busy. The neighing of horses, carts being pulled around, setting up the shops, the rooster screeching…

Wait.

That’s not what she usually woke up to.

Back home she only heard the birds and some maids, especially Flora when she would come barging in and opening the thick curtains of her windows, letting the sun hit right in Princess’ face as she knew how much Eva despised being woken up like this, hollering: “What–”

“–A great morning this is, your Royal Sleepy Highness!”

Ah, there she was.

Eva attempted a reply but curled up further into the duvet and blankets.

“Oh c’mon, Princess! We’ve got a busy day today! Lots of exciting things!”

“Exciting for you.” Eva mumbled covering her head with the thick bedding.

Flora snorted, rolling her eyes. Without any kind of remorse, Flora grabbed the end of the duvet and blankets and unceremoniously pulled them off the Princess, enjoying the irritated groan she let out as Eva tried to blindly find something to cover herself with.

“Rise and shine!” Flora said in a singsong, stepping out of the Princess’ reach as she tried to kick her leg.

“How can you be so happy and chirpy so early in the morning?” Eva gave up, sighing and rolling out of the oddly comfortable bed; Eva fell asleep earlier than she anticipated.

“Oh, spare me the dramatics! We gotta get you to eat breakfast and prepare you for—“

“I’m not hungry.”

“Yeah, sure thing Princess, as if you don’t gobble up like a duck when you are nervous.” Flora handed Eva her robe, guiding her to the bathroom where a basin already filled with water and a cloth awaited her.

Once her morning routine finished, Eva padded to the living room where breakfast had been already served. It smelled heavenly.

“I don’t gobble like a duck.” Eva sat down, huffing displeased.

The Princess served herself some warm bread, eyeing the jams and butter with a watering mouth. Flora set a steaming cup next to her before sitting down in front of the Princess.

“Sorry, not coffee yet.”

Eva sighed.

The Princess cut some more bread for her handmaiden, sharing the spreading knife after she was done with it. On the first bite Eva hummed, satisfied with the taste and texture. Freshly baked bread was the absolute best. Flora leisurely poured sugar over the butter, her smile widening at the sugary mess. Eva frowned, chewing.

“It’s still a wonder how your teeth haven’t rotten out yet.”

“Ah, family thing for sure!” Flora took a heartly bite of the sweet monstrosity in her hands. “Gramps still has his teeth intact and covers everything in sugar when he gets his hands on some.”

Eva’s lips curled into a grimace.

“I love sweets but I don't think that is healthy.”

“You just don’t appreciate the flavour.”

“I sincerely doubt there’s any flavour left in that.” Eva nodded towards Flora’s loaf of bread.

The handmaid shrugged, biting down on it and making a show just to irk the Princess further. Eva exaggerated a gag which made Flora giggle.

Three knocks on the heavy wooden door announced the Eldians coming to pick her up. Eva sighed as she watched Flora stand up from the chair next to the Princess and walk to the door, opening it with a short bow and a smile. Eva sat straighter as the looming and bulky figures of the Eldian warriors came into her view, entering the lodgings provided temporarily for her and her handmaiden. They were the same as yesterday, the giant called Mike, the female warrior that caught her attention, Nanaba, and another man Eva couldn’t remember the name right now.

The three warriors bowed, Nanaba and the other warrior waiting right next to the open door as Mike approached her. The giant warrior waved to the door, the message of “you have to go outside” quite clear in his movements. His face did not give away any of his thoughts, keeping a neutral expression as he watched the Princess stand up and follow him, Flora right behind her with giddy steps.

Flora should have been born a Princess or a noble, her happy and open disposition towards everything and everyone would win anyone over, as well as the way she found happiness in the little things of life. How Eva wished she had Flora’s positive mindset.

“Alright, ready for your big day?” the handmaiden asked in hushed whispers, something both women mastered from years of court banquets.

“Of course not. I want to run right back inside.”

“You’re such a big—” Flora was cut off by Eva’s gasp.

Flora raised her eyes just in time to see the giant warrior leaning way too close to the Princess’ personal space and… sniff. The Princess had turned around, disbelief and stupefaction etched on her face at the nerve this big, brute man had to go sniffing people without… without their consent. Eva found it uncouth, impolite, and her cheeks blazed in indignation.

Mike leaned back, humming, pleased at something Eva wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Nanaba immediately chastised the big man, kicking his leg and nagging at him as he shrugged, crossing his arms and looking slightly guilty. At the scene unfolding right outside the house, people began to stop and watch, and Eva felt her blood run cold at the sound of the Chief’s laugh coming from down the stairs. Hans and Friederich were already there, and the youngest of the two brothers was about to march upstairs, his displeased frown deepening. The Chief nodded to Moblit, motioning him to rush to them and clear misunderstandings. Levi rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue.

“Your Highness, please accept our deepest apologies.” Moblit hastily bowed, an apologetic smile in his lips. “Mike here has this habit of… uh, sniffing people.”

“Is he implying I smell?” Eva’s mouth was pulled into a tight line. Flora did not spend as long as she did grooming her and using those soaps and perfumes Eva loved for this man to mock her handmaiden’s efforts. Besides, she kept her hygiene up to date, thank you very much.

“No! Not at all, Your Highness. Mike has a great and sharp sense of smell, like a… ah, what’s the name... ah, wolf! Like a wolf, and although I do concede that it may be considered rude, he just does it from force of habit.”

Eva raised her brow skeptically.

“He meant no disrespect, Your Highness. It’s his way to say that he uh… he welcomes you.” Moblit ventured a quick glance towards the man in question, muttering something as he almost imperceptibly nodded towards the Princess with wide impatient eyes.

Mike huffed, but muttered something back to Moblit in a deep voice. Next to him, Nanaba nodded, pleased.

“He apologises, Your Highness, and compliments you.” that piqued Eva’s curiosity. “He says you smell comforting, of lavender and honey. That’s something he appreciates, with his sharp sense of smell he can easily get overwhelmed by strong scents.”

“Ah, that must be troublesome.” Eva turned to face Mike and inclined her head. “My apologies for acting harshly.” But Eva still thought her response was totally justified. A warning beforehand would have been nice, and she still had her pride.

Mike answered with one curtly bow of his head of his own.

“Indeed.” Moblit decided the issue was resolved and lifted his arm towards the Chief and the Gottesreichan Princes, watching the whole ordeal with amused expressions sans Friederich. He still looked murderous. “Please, after you, Your Highness.”

That shocked Eva. Normally back at Gottesreich she would walk behind the men and respectfully listen to whoever was talking, and even after visiting other countries, that rule still applied, or maybe they weren’t willing to go against Gottesreich. Either way, Eva was taught to never disrespect its citizens and rulers when visiting foreign kingdoms from her brothers, and the Princess always willed herself to follow the Kingdom’s culture and customs out of respect, despite what her father said on more than one occasion. Her brothers taught her to be respectful, and she would not ignore them, and even less be an embarrassment for her brothers. Summoning with all her will a composed mask on her face, Eva dared to take the lead and walk down the snow covered stairs to where her brothers and Chief awaited. Flora walked right behind her, always keeping a watchful eye to her skirts and cloak, in case they may get in the way.

The crunching of her steps on the snow were deafening for the Princess. Everyone stopped what they were doing to watch. She was used to having all eyes on her, from courts and dances and banquets, from nobles and princes trying to win her father’s good graces, but having the people of Eldia stop and observe every single move she was doing felt suffocating. One slip and she was probably doomed in their eyes.

Eva stopped right in front of the men, bowing respectfully.

“Good morning, my Lord. Brothers.” Moblit’s voice softly translated for the Chief, who didn’t take his eyes away from her the entire descent.

The Chief returned the greeting, bowing as well.

“I hope you had a pleasant sleep, your Highness.”

“I did. Thank you, my Lord.” Eva did not find the need to tell him how she tossed and turned around, her mind restless, musing over yesterday’s events –his touch– or how she missed her pillows back at the palace. The Chief seemed pleased, although there was a glint in his eyes that he most certainly caught the lie. Damn it.

“If there is anything we can offer to help you get settled and to further accommodate you, please do not hesitate to say so, your Highness. I understand it may be unpleasant being so far away from home and your people.” Eva was slightly taken aback at how the Chief seemed to be understanding of her situation, contrary to what she had heard and been told a husband would be once she married. The Princess didn’t want to let her hopes up in case the fall was to be harder than it would already be.

“Thank you for your consideration, my Lord. I will do so in case I need it.” Eva knew she wouldn’t say a thing, her stubbornness always playing against her favour.

The Chief seemed pleased enough with her answer. He turned slightly so he was facing the three Gottesreichan siblings, addressing the rest of the foreign party as well. Moblit translated for them all, and Flora managed to contain her excited hops when the Chief officially announced the start of their walk around the village.

Much to the Princess’ dismay, the Chief had offered up his right arm for her to hold on as they began the tour, an encouraging smile on his lips as if saying “go on, I will not harm you”. Eva had hoped her brothers would keep him distracted enough so she could trail behind and listen, observing her surroundings, but no such luck. It seemed like here in Eldia they weren’t as reticent of closeness as they were in Gottesreich, and women were treated differently.

The Chief was still as big and massive as the Princess remembered from yesterday’s banquet, thinking it was her own nerves and wine that exaggerated her memories, but the way her hands had trouble meeting on the Chief’s arm told her otherwise. The Eldian leader kept a slow pace, mindful of his companion and her shorter legs, as he began explaining their village and the way it was structured.

The Eldian architecture was entirely different from the one used in Gottesreich, as well as the distribution of the village itself. Where Eva was used to narrower streets with houses sharing walls, clustered, messy (although the closer to the castle, the better were planned the streets and districts), mossy cobblestones, puddles around the corners with barrels and wooden crates, the townspeople walking as merchants and shopkeepers yelled their offers to the passersby, pennants hanging from side to side of the streets with the Kingdom’s colours… Here in Eldia the streets were wider, the buildings lower in height which gave a sense of the town being less claustrophobic since you could easily see the scenery and the sky. Wooden fences, dark roofs made of slates, the streets made of the earth itself with grass heartily growing on both sides and wooden planks on the floor to help create a more visible path on certain parts, but one could clearly see the cart’s marks as well as the horses pulling them.

Although everything was covered in thick layers of snow, Eva had no doubts it would be a magnificent sight in spring, with the imposing mountains surrounding the village and the vast fields littered with the farmer’s homes composing a picture deserving of a painting. It was rurally beautiful. Different, more primitive, if she took into consideration her own Kingdom’s ways, but efficient. The Princess was sure this level of coordination would not be able to be achieved without years of honing this lifestyle, and it honestly intrigued her, her curiosity piqued. Eva hoped this curiosity and wonder for the novelty wouldn’t disappear quickly and would stay with her until her situation was more bearable, or grew accustomed to.

Moblit’s gentle voice guided the Gottesreichan guests through the Chief’s explanations, looking at the direction where the Chief pointed with his free hand while speaking, often stopping to further go into details about their dwellings, their storage facilities and barns, the marketplace with the villagers already busy with their daily chores. The town’s market was lively and uniquely beautiful, wooden stalls standing proud with all the goods on display. There was all kinds of variety, going from food to parchment and candles and clothes, to jewelry or tools for butchers or farmers.

The Princess’ heart thumped wildly on her chest, trying her hardest not to show her rising panic at the fact that she was walking around the village on the Chief’s arm, having everyone’s eyes on her as they kept their tour. The villagers stopped their chores midway to stare at them, whispering and chattering as they went through. Some respectfully greeted their Chieftain, mostly the warriors patrolling the streets doing a particular salute upon seeing them, but the villagers smiled and bowed, the children present doing the same as they tried to contain their laughs while not being able to keep their eyes off the scene in front of them. The Chief continued their walk after answering the greetings.

An excited giggle, followed by a shriek of what sounded like a name, startled the guests and their hosts, even. The Gottesreichan soldiers took a defensive stance, ready to pounce on the source of it as well as attack if necessary; their priority was defending the monarch's lives at any costs. Eva couldn’t help the scared jump her body did upon hearing the childish laugh and running steps on frozen ground getting nearer, gasping loudly in fear and tightly clutching the Chief’s arm with her tiny hands as she unconsciously leaned on him, seeking protection.

The Chief was ready to make her stand behind him and face the attacker, but stopped immediately upon seeing it was one of the children from before. The boy had rosy cheeks, the colour intensified by both the running and the cold, and probably the excitement too, and had a wide smile that was missing a few teeth. The kid was holding something in his hands, hidden behind his back, and with the eagerness of a child waiting for the exact moment an adult would pay them attention to show them what they got in their hands, the little boy almost shoved his possession to the Chieftain and the Princess.

Once he saw what the boy had in his hands, the Chief visibly relaxed, shoulders shaking in silent amusement at how a little kid got the best of them all. The Princess still looked uncertain, clutching and pressing herself into him. Eyes wide and breath a little bit short, Eva looked down at the kid’s hands. He was holding a… flower?

A flower in the middle of winter? How was that even possible?

The kid kept his eyes on the Princess, urging her to take his present with quick words and lifting his hands further up, his smile widening. Eva thought herself of a stupid fool. How could she have been scared of a child? What harm could he do? Unless… No, unless nothing. This was a little boy offering a flower, a beautiful one that Eva had never seen before. Father would not tarnish the good intentions of a child.

Upon not having, still, immediate response from the Princess, the kid hopped on his spot, irremediably making Eva show a timid smile; she could never resist a toothy grin and sparkling eyes.

One look at the mother told Eva how this was not planned and how the kid had ran off on his own volition. Everyone on the street stopped dead on their tracks and silently watched the exchange, not even daring to breathe. The mother’s wide eyes jumped from the Princess to the Chief, then to his child, not knowing if she should run and apologise to their guests or wait and have faith in their leader and his soon to be wife.

Eva understood quickly this was to be a decisive moment for her and her stay in Eldia. One wrong movement that led to misinterpretation could be beyond disastrous. She had to be good, she had to fulfill her duty and be a good wife and—

Eva took a deep breath. Focus. Don’t succumb into panic.

Fighting her burning cheeks out of her own embarrasment, Eva let go of her almost deadly grip on the Chief’s arm and faced the little boy alone. Keeping her smile on her lips, Eva approached the child with small steps, stopping right in front of him and elegantly folding her gloved hand on top of the other. The kid kept talking at a dizzying speed, and when he noticed how the Princess furrowed her brows in confusion, while still maintaining her smile, he understood not a word he was saying reached her.

Humming to himself while thinking hard, the kid’s face illuminated itself when an idea came to him. He hastily pointed to the flower and then to the Princess, practically shoving it in her hands. Eva looked down and then up at the kid, pointing at herself with a questioning look. The child nodded effusively, shoving the poor flower again.

Eva couldn’t help the soft chuckle upon his enthusiasm, never being able to resist a kid. The Princess took it, making sure to do a slightly exaggerated bow, lifting slightly the skirts and careful enough to not crumple the flower, so the little boy understood her gratitude. The kid happily ran back to his mother, skipping and laughing as he began talking at that incredible speed while his mother looked beyond relieved. Eva did a curtly bow to her too, trying to show the mother no offence of any kind was taken.

Returning to the Chief’s side, Eva brought the flower to her nose. She always did that whenever she came by one, out of habit, and was surprised by the faint but sweet fragrance it emitted. Eva would have to ask about them, knowing Gottesreich did not have any flowers blooming in winter.

Just when they were about to resume their walk, more excited giggles and shouts could be heard. Other children ran away from their mothers and fathers, holding the same flower in their tiny hands. Eva found herself surrounded by eager eyes and smiles, shoving their flowers up so the Princess would pick them up too. Some would tug at her cloak so she would pick theirs first, others jumping on their spot, other’s patiently waiting their turn as they marvelled on the fabric and embroidery of her pale blue winter dress.

The Princess ended up with a small bouquet of flowers, the children shouting and running happily back to their parents once they delivered their gifts. She did not know what to do with them now, and frantically looked at the Chief and her brothers, then to Flora when her siblings had confused expressions, for a clue. The Chieftain had an amused glint in his eyes, but half his mind was busy thinking about something. Finally, Flora took pity on her Princess and walked up to her with a smile on her lips.

“Let’s show off those gifts, shall we, your Highness?”

Flora expertly secured the flowers on the Princess’s up braid, the pure white and calm blue of the flowers an unexpected but welcome complement to the Princess’s own choice of wardrobe. Moblit later explained, upon inquiring about the flowers herself, that they were a special kind of flower that bloomed on their woods only during the cold season, earning the name of “winter miracle”. It also symbolized the welcoming of new people into their tribe, as its sister in the warmer weather.

Eva was touched, knowing not that those kids wanted to welcome her upon hearing she was to become one of them soon. The Princess only wished the adults would have the same feelings towards her.

Thankfully the walk around the village suffered no more incidents and surprises, and Eva was able to delight herself on the market and what it had to offer; she definitely had to go there often and take her sweet time. The quills looked absolutely exquisite, and those were the famous travelling books she heard so much about! Even the jeweller had a beautiful selection of earrings, bracelets, necklaces and rings that the Princess had no idea the Eldians were capable of such craftsmanship. She particularly liked the brooch with the silhouette of a bird resting on a golden branch, the gold of the bird expertly mixed with beautiful midnight blue gemstones, resembling feathers. Also the hairpins! They were absolutely marvelous. The jeweller himself was both pleased and proud that the Gottesreichan Princess liked his products.

Their next destination amazed and terrified the Gottesreichan guests.

Eldia’s military prowess was legendary, and right now, they had its base and core right in front of them. The training grounds were a massive expanse of terrain, with barracks, thoroughly used wooden dummies, racks full of well-cared training weapons of all kinds, archery ranges, horse-riding training fields… and each and every single space was filled to the brim with warriors and trainees.

It was frightening to see how Eldia’s army was composed of perfectly trained warriors with wide expertise in the arts of combat. Not a movement wasted, not a single error in the placement of their feet to maintain balance. Strength, power, endurance, knowledge— every skill needed to become a perfect warrior, it was taught here in the massive training fields.

The Chief walked them right through the training grounds, nodding towards the warriors and fresh trainees who ceremoniously saluted him and the entourage he was leading. It was the same salute the Gottesreichan guests had seen in their entire walk around the unexpectedly gigantic village: right hand closed in a fist over their hearts, left hand on the back, and a proud stance full of tenacity and devotion. The newest recruits surprised the royal siblings, full of young faces who couldn’t be older than 15, but with a fierce determination to learn and to prove themselves. All sizes, shapes and forms– if you were up to it, were ready to go through an intense training, it did not matter who you were: a farmer’s son, a baker’s daughter… if you dedicated your heart, trained hard and understood what values had an Eldian warrior, what a life meant, you were fit to become one.

They stopped to observe the fresh batch that just started training a few months back go through a hand to hand combat. The instructor, a tall and intimidating man, bald with prominent wrinkles on his forehead and very notorious dark circles under his eyes, yelled out orders to the recruits. Some flinched, some fought every fibre of their beings into not taking a step back –a few of them failing–, but some stood their ground with confident and resolved stares, bearing down the drilling of the grim and frightening man.

Upon seeing that their Chief, the veteran warriors and the Gottesreichan guests where watching them, the recruits swallowed down their fears and tried to impress their leaders and royal guests, trying to make a good and fearsome impression of what the Eldian training grounds and warriors were made of. Punches, kicks, throwing the opponent on the floor… the field became a controlled battlefield of snarls, growls and frustrated shouts that developed into determined grunts. The recruits’ clothes soon became soiled by a mix of sweat and dirt, as a result of their vigorous and energetic try of today’s exercises.

The Princess did not dare to voice it aloud, in fear of her thoughts being perceived as a critique and direct attack on the Eldian ways, but her heart shrank inside her chest at the sight of what must be the smallest, tiniest of the new recruits, a blonde girl with wide blue eyes like the sky above, go against a trainee twice her size. Eva involuntarily clenched her hands in apprehension on the Chief’s arm, eyes not able to look away from the imminent tragedy. She was too tiny to be there! That poor girl was surely to be beaten into a pulp, taken advantage of the fact that she was much weaker, much more smaller–

A large hand squeezed her tightly clasped ones, making the Princess tear away her concerned gaze, even if she thought it was impossible for her to do so, to look down and see the Chief’s one bury her own. The Princess immediately searched for the Chief’s eyes, surprised at how he was already gazing down on her and had a small reassuring smile on his lips, nodding towards the training field. Eva looked straight ahead, just in time to see the petite girl dodge and deliver a solid punch to her opponent, making the cadet stagger backwards and clutch their stomach in pain. It was still far from being perfect and devastatingly powerful, as Eldians were known for, but it was good enough for a start and for the tiny warrior’s size. A small breath of relief released itself from the Princess’ lungs.

It still shocked Eva to the core to see women amongst the military ranks and files of Eldia, and nobody questioning it. Apparently there weren’t any kind of laws to forbid them to enlist, or to do any other job that back in Gottesreich it was meant only for men. How could they do it? How could those brave women endure it? Eva had always been taught how them, the lesser, weaker sex, could not what a man could do, just because God said so in his holy words. Father was the High Priest of Gottesreich, Father preached the word of God, the Holy Scriptures, that he made memorise Eva the moment she began her intense training as the third Princess of Gottesreich. It was so deeply ingrained in her mind that the mere thought of thinking herself above a man and their role made the Princess want to get on her knees and beg for forgiveness from her God.

How far did the dissimilarities run between their nations? How could Father entrust her with his desire to enlighten the Eldians into the correct, pious path? Just the simple thought of questioning her husband-to-be and his ways chilled her entire body and soul. She just… couldn’t. Her father’s will confused Eva.

But still, deep down inside her, locked down and not even daring to let it see the light, she couldn’t help but to… envy them. Envy their freedom of choice, of options, of life. Could she ever be like them? Aspire to have their wide range of choices? Alternatives? Could she choose her own path? She had been taught since she was a little girl that she would spend her life in a home, with her husband and a child in her arms. Not travelling, not expanding knowledge, or meeting new people and cultures… Everything Father and the Governess told her reminded little Eva of a bird cage. Pretty, comfortable, enough to see what was beyond the bars… but a cage.

She learned to accept her fate quickly, not daring to cross Father ever again in her life.

Eva knew she was born in a privileged home. A castle. A Princess. Never hungry, never cold, only the best of the best for her. It only took a quick look beyond the capital to see how privilege fed and took care of her. All her whims and wishes met without hesitation. Not a single patch to fix on her dresses, her hairbrush not missing a single bristle and made of the best silver— a perfect, content life. All you have to do is your duty, Father said. Do what you were born to do. Your only purpose.

Make me proud of being your Father.

Bring glory to the Holy Kingdom.

She was made to be bred, she was made to bear children, heirs, she was made to be a leverage for deals, a bargain chip, as her mind whispered to her in her darkest moments, to bring prosperity and glory to the Holy Kingdom of Gottesreich. She was… She was…

“Your Highness?”

The Princess was brought back to the present by Moblit’s placid voice and the Chief’s gentle tug, as if she had been rooted there, staring at the warriors, and getting lost in her troubles instead of following her fiancé and Eldian hosts. They were staring at her. Everyone. At least it felt like everyone, even the animals. Her breath had caught in her lungs, her throat a hard knot she forced herself to swallow before speaking.

“My deepest apologies, my Lords.” Eva’s mind scrambled to find an appropriate excuse for her lack of manners and being caught zoning out. “I did not mean any disrespect by my actions or to show an unwillingness to follow this pleasant walk. I was simply transfixed by your warriors, admiring their tenacity and will.”

What a load of bullshit.

They all seemed to buy it. Not Flora, though. She could see right through Eva as if she had been made of glass. Her handmaiden would probably ask her about it later in the privacy of their own lodgings, but let it go for now, knowing it was no use to inquire about it in the middle of the village tour, even less in front of their hosts.

They resumed the walk, passing through the training grounds before turning to their right, strolling until they reached one of the biggest houses of the village. Moblit informed them it was where the sick and injured were taken care of. A house for the sick, a hospital. Gottesreich had its own physicians and doctors, but never a house dedicated for the sick, the poor. Eva knew the Palace had their own royal physicians, dedicated only to them, and the people needed to rely on the town’s doctors.

Eva wondered how did this hospital work. Did they dedicate a part of the taxes to it? Was it free? What remedies did they use? What—

One of the windows was slammed open, an excited yell coming out of it. Moblit let out a tired sigh, mumbling in Eldian, as if he knew exactly what was that about. Levi spoke too, the tone in his voice denoting annoyance. Eva felt the Chieftain chuckle, answering his right-hand man with something that made Levi snort.

A head poked out of the window, messy brown hair tied up in a scrambled ponytail. The stranger kept shouting, excited, continuous noises of delight coming out of their mouth. The person noticed the small entourage right down their window, and quieted down instantly, curious as to who were the ones standing there. Then, another excited screech, lurching their body almost out of the window as they enthusiastically waved down. Moblit let out a strangled noise, uselessly raising his arms as if he wanted to catch the over excited person dangling off the window.

Eva discreetly looked to her side, looking for an answer or explanation in the Chief’s eyes, but he was looking up with an amused smile. She used his distraction to look behind her, finding the exact confused expression on her handmaiden and brother’s faces. The Princess saw Flora quietly shrug her shoulders, and she was so tempted to join her, but refrained in case the Eldians caught her and found it impolite. The person on the window shouted something and disappeared inside, sounds of furniture being moved around reaching their ears. Moblit groaned, rubbing his temples.

A few minutes later the same person who had half their body out of the window came out from the main doors of the hospital. Levi discreetly stepped away, not wanting to be involved with the newcomer and the imminent events. He really wanted to go back to the privacy and tranquility of his own home, drink a nice cup of tea…

An excited exclamation followed by a strident laugh broke Levi’s long desired daydream. He watched their eccentric approach, wondering how their guests would react to them. Judging by how the delicate Princess gasped at anything that came running and loud, Levi guessed it would not go right. Mike silently joined him, crossing his arms as he, too, observed the catastrophe about to happen.

“Bets?” Mike’s low murmur made Levi snort.

“She will freak out.” Levi turned his head to amusedly stare at his fellow warrior. “Like she did with you.”

Mike scoffed, crossing his arms.

“C’mon, not you too. And I say she doesn’t, just to spite you.”

“Hah! Serves you right, you big-nosed moose.” Levi’s gaze fell back to the front.

“It was not my intention.” it truly hadn’t been. He couldn’t help it, Mike trusted his nose, knowing his instincts never failed him before. He had to know.

“Just, don’t go sniffing people.”

“I will not make such promises.” Mike’s lips curled into a smile, proud at the way he managed to make Levi’s shoulders briefly shake.

Both warriors kept watching the scene in front of them, with Moblit trying to save the situation from their beloved doctor’s clutches, quickly directing their attention to himself and his words. Everybody knew that Moblit had a reserved spot on their Goddesses’ paradise; nobody worked as hard as him, and was as skilled to manage the village’s resident genius doctor.

“Your Highnesses, it is my pleasure to introduce you to our doctor, Hange Zoë. They are the head of the hospital and–”

“IT IS PLEASURE TO MEET, HIGHNESSESES!” Hange cut the poor and exasperated Moblit out, excitedly looking from one sibling to the other. The royal hosts were surprised at the doctor’s broken Gottesreichan attempt, albeit enthusiastic.

Flora successfully covered an amused snort. Ardor! Fervor! Passion! Flora admired that in a person, and for now, Doctor Hange Zoë managed to catch her attention. The handmaiden was sure she could learn interesting things from this eager physician, and secretly wanted to see how Eva would react. It reminded her of her first week as the Princess’ handmaiden, chasing a scared and overwhelmed Eva down the corridors as she tightly clutched one of her precious books, wanting to volt out of any situation that involved a loud and chatty girl following her everywhere. Flora realises know that she had been a little bit insensitive to her poor friend, but in her defense she just wanted her Princess to live.

The eccentric doctor went from sibling to sibling, offering their hand for them to shake. Prince Hans took it surprisingly well, smiling warmly and shaking the offered hand with what would be considered a perfect grip, confident and secure, while Hange still kept letting out broken gottesreichan, not giving any thought to the mistakes. Friederich was confused, and as such, shook his hand with the same sentiment as he was feeling; the second Prince felt as if a strong wind knocked him out of his feet and all he could say was “huh?”.

But ah, Eva. Poor Eva. She had brief flashes of her childhood with Flora, of an overexcited girl running after her as she talked, and talked, and talked… until Eva began to enjoy her extroverted nature and secretly thanked her for dragging her out of her room or the library. But still, Doctor Hange Zoë managed to scare the living daylights out of her with their excited gasp and sparkling eyes. Eva clutched the Chief’s arm in a deathly grip for the second time that day.

Hange offered their hand out too, but then seemed to think about it. Did princesses shake hands too? Was it protocol? Well, Hange never truly cared about protocols, to be honest, Moblit usually took care of that. So maybe it was too forward? Should Hange bow? Did they thoroughly screw up in their eagerness–?

Eva raised her hand and took Hange’s as her brothers did, Forcing herself to paint a warm smile on her lips.

Her father and governess’ voices were screaming inside her head, louder than her own heartbeat. How dare you shake hands with a commoner, you, a princess of Gottesreich? A princess should never shake hands! Commoners must bow, must kneel, must–

“The pleasure is mine, doctor Zoë. I am afraid I do not know any word of Eldian yet, but thank you for your efforts. I hope to learn soon.” Eva would follow her brothers’ lead for now, as they discussed on their journey to Eldia. Father was not here. Father did not understand. If Eva was to settle here to start a new life and end it here, she could not start fights and discontent because of her father’s pride. It was the smart thing to do.

The coarseness of her father always upsetted her, even if she swallowed her discontent, not wanting to repeat that night.

Hange’s uncertain face instantly turned into a bright smile. They didn’t screw up! The doctor turned to say something to the Chief, who in return gained a brief smile. Then, Hange returned their attention to the siblings.

Levi was rendered speechless. He lost the stupid bet! Levi was sure the Princess would freak out upon Hange’s overly enthusiastic greetings, judging by how she had reacted earlier with Mike and his antics. He didn’t dare to turn to his left to see Mike’s moronic moustache smiling smugly at him.

“You owe me.” Mike’s grin could be heard in his voice.

“Shut up, you giant tree.” Damn it!

“Want come in? Show house?” Hange signaled to the main entrance of the Hospital, already thinking about the tour they would take the royal siblings and show how amazing their inventions and discoveries had been.

Should Eva say yes? No, that was arrogant of her, she couldn’t decide on a whim what or what to not do, even less without consulting it with her brothers or the Eldian leader. Didn’t the Eldians also have an itinerary already made for today? The people on the streets and outside the hospital were staring at them, curious about the scene in front of them. Eva was getting nervous. their stares were suffocating her, their attention adding more weight on her, her mind scrambling to find an appropriate response–

Moblit intercepted before Eva could begin, quickly saving the moment.

The Princess was grateful for it, feeling the weight of the decision on her shoulders diminish; she restrained her relieved sigh from escaping her lips, though. Moblit would handle it, thank God above! With a pang of pity in her heart, Eva watched Hange go from thrilled to crestfallen as Moblit spoke. Now she felt bad, knowing for sure they had the best intentions in their heart. Maybe the detour wasn’t that bad…?

But Hange immediately returned to their cheerful self.

“Must come other day! Question Erwin about it!” Hange clasped Eva’s hand in theirs, that exhilarated spark back in their eyes. “Must show you fun things!”

Eva pressed her lips into a tight, nervous smile and nodded, hoping it would be enough to quench Doctor Hange’s eagerness. Too forward! Too forward! Was this also an eldian thing? It seemed to do the trick, as they went back inside the hospital when an assistant called them from the door and enthusiastically waved goodbye.

“Apologies, your Highnesses.” Moblit deserved a raise and long vacations. It had been only a day, but it was clear for the gottesreichan guests that the poor man dealt with a lot, and it seemed that Doctor Hange occupied 80% of it. “I must ask for you to forgive Doctor Hange’s lack of protocol and take no offence by it. The Doctor really enjoys meeting new people and telling about their discoveries and new remedies.”

“No offense taken, Moblit. I’m sure Doctor Hange can make it up to us by showing us what they are so excited for, right?” Hans was genuinely interested, always asking the doctors and physicians back at the palace about everything, going as far as reading some books, although he understood half of it. He truly wanted to know Doctor Hange’s thoughts.

“Honestly, I’m curious now.” Friederich scratched his nose, mumbling. Hans sniggered, lowering his voice so only his brother and her sister’s handmaiden could hear him.

“You, willing to listen to non-battle-related things? Who are you and where is my dear brother?” Flora snickered, covering her mouth.

“Oi!” Friederich’s ears went red at the tips.

“We will have to come tomorrow, then.”

Moblit approached them, always with his calm smile on his face.

“May we continue, your Highnesses?”

Only when they resumed their tour, hearing Moblit talk with her brothers and the Eldian warriors escorting them, did Eva realise how Doctor Hange was wearing glasses.

Saying Eva was scared was not enough. Terrified? Frightened? Petrified? There was no adjective to describe the sheer terror those beasts instilled inside her heart. Those were not horses. No horse could be that monstrous size. Nope. No way.

She didn’t even reach the horse’s chest! And even one leg was as thick as her whole body! How did they even suppose she could get on one of them?

They were led to the village’s stables, where the stable hands and grooms had horses ready with their saddles. Each one of them had a different saddle pad, beautiful Eldian embroidery and motifs of golden and white thread on a teal fabric, most of them resembling the ones from the village’s houses, the themes of the needle work being mostly of mother nature herself. The leather of the saddles were beautifully taken care of, going from darker to lighter tints of brown, no doubt the artisans made a good work of the dyes and its delicate processes.

The horses looked healthy, robust and ready to be ridden by their masters. If Eva wasn’t as scared as she was, she would be admiring the animals and the pure strength they exuded.

Friederich was getting more invested into this part of the tour than the previous one. Yes, Eldia was beautiful and curiously different, but for Friederich, it was still boring; he had never been good at diplomacy and pleasantry visits. He had always heard of Eldia’s monstrous steeds, and was delighted to see such enormous and sturdy stallions, powerfully built and vigorous. You could see the raw power in them, and couldn’t wait to see what it felt to ride one of them. Maybe he could convince the Eldian Chief to trade some… Surely his enemies would piss themselves upon seeing a beast such as this charging against them. Yeah, maybe he could, preferably at the evening banquet. Now was not the time.

This was an important ritual for the Eldians.

Moblit gracefully explained how this was considered crucial when two souls got engaged in Eldia. Hunting was part of their culture, a huge one, and they would not bring shame to their traditions and ancestors. It was an art, and the Eldians deeply respected nature and what it provided for humankind, so the solemn air was palpable. For Eldians this was a trial, also. Those who proposed to their lovers would have to hunt a magnificent piece for their betrothed, to both show that they could provide for them and also have the strength, patience, wit and endurance used in hunting that would prevail in their lives.

Since the Chief was getting engaged to the Princess, he had to prove himself to her, so she would accept and approve of her future husband. This ritual held even more importance for who was performing it, and the villagers were actually curious about how well would their Chief perform; sadly, some couples had to use all three attempts to succeed. They hoped the Chief would succeed at his first try.

For Eva, it was basically a show to see how much of a peacock the man could be, not that different from those in court who would fawn themselves and their achievements to win her hand, and what came with it. Bitter? Maybe so. She was just tired of men, but would respect the Eldian tradition. After all, traditions were traditions, and one should always honour them, no matter what.

For Flora, it was just like her beloved romantic novels. A man proving their worth to their beloved? Man versus Beast? Oh, how she wished that for herself! Maybe one day she would find love here, in Eldia. Who knew what the future awaited for her?

“As tradition says,” Moblit spoke. “The future bride and groom must ride together, as the willingness of their souls to start a new journey.”

Eva froze.

No way.

No.

There had to be a mistake. She thought she would ride in a small carriage with Flora, as the men rode and discussed their matters. Her dress wasn’t suited for riding!

On cue, one of the stable hands brought a magnificent white stallion, it’s crest carefully brushed and not a single tangle and bit of dirt on it. It was bigger than the other horses, robust, and Eva understood now what people meant when they said pets and horses resembled their owners: a horse truly fit for a Chief; it had to be his judging by the proud look the man had on his eyes.

The beast patiently stood right in front of them, not showing an ounce of nervousness or uneasiness. How Eva wished she felt the same. She just wanted to bolt right out of there.

The Princess felt the Chief turn towards her, and automatically released her hold on his arm, although he kept her hand in his, gently guiding her towards the Chief’s own stallion. Eva didn’t want to get closer, even less mount on it. She was terrified! They stood in front of the beast’s head, admiring the noble profile and long golden lashes it had. Eva saw the Chief affectionately gaze at his horse, giving it a tender stroke on its muzzle. He looked back at Eva, inviting her to do the same, but the Princess remained rooted, frozen on the spot. The Chief nudged her to pet the stallion’s head by lifting her hand himself, slowly, always watching her reactions closely— the Chieftain knew he was pushing her, but Erwin believed this would help her lose a little bit of her fearful first impression.

Eva watched, between a mix of horror and wonder, how her gloved fingers brushed the horse’s muzzle, its heat warming up her palm. The stallion didn’t even flinch at the change, letting itself be pet. Eva was amazed, transfixed, not even aware of the Chief’s gaze on her. Slowly, a sensation of relief washed all over her body, feeling more secure now that the beast showed no trace of nervousness upon seeing a new face. Eva even let herself release a small smile, even though her heart was still pounding fiercely inside her chest.

More horses were brought to them, each warrior taking the reins of their own steed, as well as new horses for the Princes to ride. Friederich was beyond excited, eyes going from head to rear of the enormous beast he was lent to ride. He looked like a child in a candy shop back at the Capital.

Everyone waited for the Chief to mount first, as tradition dictated. The solemn air felt like a pressing stone on the Princess, not truly knowing what she was supposed to do besides having to ride with him. Should she say something? Perform a certain move? But the Princess stood rooted there, letting her never-fading anxiety begin to swallow whole again.

The Chief prepared himself to mount on, grabbing the pommel with his left hand and easily hoisting himself up when he set his foot on the stirrup. Every move he did looked effortless, as if even a child could do that with their eyes closed. If they thought Eva could achieve such levels, they were going to be thoroughly disappointed. The Chief extended his hand to the Princess, signaling her to come closer and join him on the horse.

The question is: how the hell is she supposed to get on it?

Moblit did not give any clues or hints about it, and everyone respectfully watched as the Princess approached the Chief with small steps. The Eldian leader never looked away from her, and she truly reminded him of a scared fawn.

What came next was a blur for the Princess. One moment she was standing right beside the Chief, timidly taking his hand and raising her other one to try to reach the pommel as the Chief did, her foot raising too to set on the lowered stirrup, and on the next moment Eva found herself being lifted as if she weighted nothing, strong arms pulling her up, easily turning her so she sat astride the horse with her back pressed against his chest.

Eva couldn’t focus on anything but the feel of his broad and strong chest snugly pressed against her back, despite the layers of thick clothing and cloaks between them. Eva did not pay attention to everyone else getting on their horses, or how Friederich couldn’t help the boyish grin on his lips, or how Flora turned beet red when she was made to mount on the same horse as the second Prince of Gottesreich, her confident and self-assured attitude gone for a moment. She couldn’t, not with how the Chief righted her stance with gentle hands, or how he straightened her own dress skirts and cloak without being prompted to do so, or how he guided her gloved hands to the crest and horn, so she had something to hold on to, even if the arms that caged her in wouldn’t let her slip and fall. The cold was forgotten for a moment, as well as her nervous tension.

Prompting the beast to an easy gait, the Chief led the party outside the stables and onto the main street. That’s when Eva snapped out of her trance and quickly ventured a look towards her handmaiden, seeing her grip the crest of the horse she was on with red cheeks. Both women crossed looks, twin bewildered expressions greeting each other. Eva silently cheered for her friend, but was too occupied herself with her own troubles to even waggle her eyebrows to tease her handmaiden.

This was going to be a long day.

The main street greeted them with the eldian villagers gathered on the sides of it, creating a passageway of curious and expectant faces. Everyone looked like they were waiting for a signal, eyes glued to the Chief’s horse and its riders, fingers and feet fidgeting. When the Chief and the Princess passed the first bystanders, the whole wide street exploded into cheers and shouts and blue.

The villagers threw flowers on them and the horses’ hooves, smiling and clapping as they passed by. Eva recognised the winter flowers from before, the same she wore now on her braid, and watched the villagers cover the entire street in a mantle of blue and white. The Chief did not turn to greet or answer them, keeping his head and eyes straight ahead in a solemn show of respect towards their faith in him. That’s when Eva understood this was part of the hunting ritual too, bidding farewell and good luck to the couple about to engage in the ritual. So, to not be disrespectful towards their culture and traditions, Eva did the same, looking straight ahead towards the main gate, into the sky blue path. A flash of the Chieftains’ eyes crossed her mind. The same blue.

It truly was a beautiful sight.

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skekheck · 4 years

Text

Theory: UrVa’s Arrows Were Originally Meant To Incapacitate, Not Kill, skekMal

Maybe this is common consensus, but it’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while. On the surface, it seemed like urVa had wanted to put an end to skekMal at the Circle of the Suns and the Hunter escaped before he could finish the job. But then there was this line in episode 10 that always felt odd to me:

urVa: I had a dream that I was one that became two that became one again. I looked through my dark half’s eyes and knew Aughra was right. [...] ...The Hunt must end.

It’s just “but urVa, weren’t you doing just that a day or so prior?”. But then after rewatching their standoff again it hit me: maybe urVa’s intentions were not to kill skekMal but to incapacitate him.

Let’s look at the scene again

SkekMal was shot a total of three times: the first one through his upper arm, the second around the bottom right of his torso, and the last through his upper leg (possibly thigh?).

(Sorry couldn’t find a better pic of his leg shot)

Weird places to aim for if urVa had wanted to kill him, right? Wouldn’t he have gone for targets that would more likely result in death, like the throat or through the eye sockets? It’s not like he would miss: urVa’s a master marksman. Instead, all three shots prevented (or at least was an attempt to stop) skekMal without taking his life.

The first shot prevented skekMal from harming Rian. The second was retaliation for ignoring the Archer’s warning. UrVa flat out told him to not approach the Gelfling but you see the Hunter take a step forward anyway, prompting him to release the second arrow. The final one was an attempt to stop skekMal from escaping with Brea. Seeing as how urVa immediately collapsed after firing that arrow, it would have worked. However, he underestimated how committed skekMal was to the Hunt, considering he pushed through the pain to get what he needed done.

Those arm and leg wounds aren’t inherently life-threatening. The arrow in his torso, though, is more concerning. It’s possible it could have had or at least be at risk of damaging his organs. Now, the Skeksis have weird-as-fuck anatomy (that goes without saying) so we have no real way of knowing if it was endangering him or not. But considering the nature of his other two wounds, I don’t think it was a kill shot. A more serious wound, but not deadly if tended to. And that’s probably what urVa intended: he aimed for that spot in the hopes skekMal would stop to take care of his wounds.

But Weren’t Both skekMal and urVa In Critical Condition?

Oh yeah, they still were and skekMal’s partially to blame for it. It’s not a great idea to move around too much with arrows lodged in you. The arrow heads and shaft could move around and cause more internal damage. SkekMal moving made what would have been minor to moderate wounds way more serious. Not to mention, he never stopped to pull them out and heal himself: he kept those things in.

And let’s not forget how far of a distance between the Circle of the Suns and the Castle is. There are multiple versions of maps of Thra that have some siginifcant differences, but the main point is those two locations are pretty far from each other. Even if he used Bennu to fly all the way over to the Castle, skekMal would still have to deal with Brea thrashing around on his back. And it looks like he took a detour to grab a cage for her, which he then dragged through the Castle’s corridors. Baiting Rian and his friends just so he can fulfill his Hunt was apparently more important to him than his well-being (which is ironic if you believe skekMal’s philosophy surrounding the Hunt is his own way of self-preservation).

EDIT: Wanted to add that skekMal was in a difficult position in terms of what he wanted. He would know that if he’d pull those arrows out he would have to treat them right away otherwise he’d bleed to death. At the same time, he would also had to keep Brea from escaping. I think he weighed his options and found that he’d had more success just pushing through it and keeping them in then treat them later. SkekMal might had also thought the other Skeksis would be able to treat him if it was serious enough?

And SkekTek Made It Worse

SkekTek is no doctor. He can cut up and research on animals all he wants, but that doesn’t count as medical knowledge. It’s painfully obvious he has no idea what he’s doing: his diagnosis and treatment of skekMal’s condition is enough proof of that. And speaking of which, skekTek’s diagnosis is full of nonsense:

Skektek: Subject suffers severe exsanguination. Extreme distress to the humus. [...] Imbalance of intrinsic fluids. Manifold ruptures in corporeal morphology. [Checks for a heart beat] Ah. Ah... . Expiration... is... [dramatic pause] inevitable.

Literally he’s saying skekMal has multiple holes in his body and he’s bleeding out. You know, pointing out the obvious. Also, I tried finding out if “humus” related to anything biologically, but all I could find was it’s a term for... soil made of organic matter. I’m not sure what he was trying to refer to, I think he was just misusing it to make himself sound smart.

EDIT: I have been told by a few people that skekTek might be referring the humerus, which is a bone found in the upperarm that’s forms joints at the elbow and shoulder. This would make more sense and would mean skekTek made a proper diagnosis. However, at least to me, it still sounds like he’s saying humus. Another skeksis repeats him and they also say humus, not humerus. Turning on the captions also has it as humus. This could either be a typo or skekTek did mean humerus, but said humus instead.

And how he actually treats skekMal is atrocious.

He pulls the arrows out without making any attempts to stop the bleeding, clean the wounds, or apply stitches. He’s letting him bleed out and he should at least know they need blood to live. Do you know what happens when someone loses too much blood? Among other side effects, organ failure and falling into a coma. SkekTek did eventually made an effort to heal skekMal by giving him essence, but it was too little too late. SkekMal’s condition was so far gone at that point he really needed Aughra’s essence to survive.

UrVa’s Intentions

And now we’re going right back to urVa. While thinking over on urVa’s actions, I started wondering if he anticipated skekMal wouldn’t stay put and that the Hunter would do his own self in by moving around with the arrows lodged in him. I mean, urVa is a mystic, an indirect kill would make sense. But giving it more thought, I don’t think that’s the case. A lot of his actions during the series suggests otherwise.

UrVa was very contemplative, even saddened, about having to end the Hunt for skekMal. He is not like his other half: he respected and appreciated all life on Thra. He also sees the cycle of life as well as the wilderness as something untamable. This is implied while he was talking with Aughra in episode 4:

urVa: We do not get to decide when our part in the song is finished.

While urVa is one of the more proactive Mystics, he still is... a Mystic. He doesn’t believe he should manipulate or control what goes on around him and let things be. The Bestiary book points to the fact that while urVa did keep tabs on skekMal, he never interfered with his hunts. So it was a big deal when Aughra quested him with the task of stopping skekMal.

Also I’d like to point out urVa and Aughra’s final conversation because it’s also important for this discussion:

urVa; And where does my path lead? Aughra: Into the sands to face the Hunter. urVa: [sighing and looks away from Aughra for a moment] I cannot defeat my dark half. Aughra: You will find a way. But not without sacrifice. urVa: And if I fail? Aughra: The heroes of Thra will be lost. urVa: Mm... [pauses and takes a deep breath] I will end the hunt. Aughra: Good. Get a move on. You Mystics are not known for your swift speed. We have much to do. [...] urVa: [pauses and looks at Aughra] Will we meet again, Aughra? Aughra: [stops walking, saddened] Hm... [faces him] Some things... even Aughra cannot see, old friend. [urVa pauses and then groans, walks away from Aughra as they both parted ways for the final time]

He shows a lot of hesitance in completing this task. I’m sure he knew what Aughra was implying: that he may have to take skekMal’s life away but he still went and asked if they would meet each other again anyway. I think he was hoping for a positive answer, that it wouldn’t have to come to that, and seemed disheartened by her answer. But he still tried. He tried to stop skekMal in a way that, while not exactly peaceful, was not meant to be life-threatening. UrVa even pleads for him to stop... twice! The first time as skekMal was making his get-away and the second time while urVa helplessly watched him go after Rian again through the Hunter’s eyes.

These two only had one scene together so we don’t really know the extent of their relationship. But if there’s one thing that’s clear was the conflict between them. I mean, during their whole duel, the characters were purposely placed on opposite sides of the room while making sure to show that skekGra and urGoh, a pair who were able to find harmony, were always side by side. It’s also in the way they address each other: while urVa does refer to him as his dark half, he also called him by his name. SkekMal, meanwhile, only ever referred to urVa as his title and nothing more.

But I don’t think urVa had any ill-will towards his Skeksis. He seemed understanding of him and valued his life as much as he valued all living beings on Thra. I think if they both didn’t end up in a near-death situation, he’d try incapacitating skekMal again. However he understood and accepted his situation towards the end: with skekMal on an essence high, incapacitation method was no longer possible. If he allowed it to go on, all of Thra would be at risk. It was a desperate situation, but he knew Aughra was right. She gave up her life for the preservation of the world and urVa knew he had to do the same: for her and for Thra. The Hunt had to end and in order to protect the world he cherished he had to make the ultimate sacrifice.

#the dark crystal #skekmal #urva #I might go back into this and edit/add things but HERE YOU GO

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pizzazz-party · 3 years

Text

Ring Analysis Part 1: Synchronizing— How It Works and What It Tells Us About Ring

...As well as the world he lives in. Our buddy Ring may explain very little about himself, but he doesn’t need to if you’re paying—obsessive—attention to detail.

(Gameplay spoilers up to World 20 under the cut.)

For a mechanic that’s important enough to merit a cutscene, and then goes on to envelop every part of the game, “synchronizing” gets a handful of lines before it’s never explicitly brought up again.

So let’s go over this scene.

“Synchronizing” is, at first glance, a simple exchange of traits. That’s not entirely wrong. Trainee does physically take on characteristics specific to Ring, like the flaming hair, and Ring does gain access to her heartbeat reading, sort of like a living stethoscope.

But what syncing actually is, is a symbiotic relationship. It’s both participants “recalibrating” themselves to the other as best as each of them are able. For a flesh-and-blood partner that’s not built for syncing, this means physically changing to become something a little closer to Ring. (More on that later.) For Ring, a magical being designed with the extra sensory input in mind, it invisibly grants him access to the other’s most invaluable resource: their exercise energy.

Like synchronizing, “exercise energy” is another lovely concept that was mentioned once and then never again. So much so that I’ve been accidentally calling it “fitness energy” for weeks and am still trying to correct my reflexes.

But exercise energy is everything. If all it takes is a simple read of a heartbeat to jumpstart a sync bond, exercise energy is the glue that cements it together. Because Ring and Trainee don’t stop being synced whenever they’re not physically touching. They separate all the time. They can put a little distance between themselves and still be at the height of synchronization, even. But let’s take a step back for a moment, and talk about that “physically changing to become something a little closer to Ring” aspect.

Say that Trainee is doing a leg move at peak performance. Her hair is flaring up. Her legs are glowing that same yellowish hue—because they’re full of exercise energy. That’s what that is. That’s what it must be. It’s what Ring himself is partially made of, seeing as the same stuff flows through his veinlike tubes. Seriously. Look at this. It’s the same goddamn color.

I can’t understate how incredibly important exercise energy is. To synchronizing, to Ring, and to literally everything else. Exercise energy is a type of life energy. In the world of Ring Fit, it’s in everything, everywhere—in varying levels of purity and concentration. When Trainee is performing a fit skill, she almost seems to absorb a mystical...something... from the open air around her, as she charges up a skill. Thin lines of light streak towards her as she lights up, not away. See for yourself.

Trainee isn’t a normal inhabitant of “Planet Fitness.” She doesn’t know how to manipulate exercise energy very well on her own. It looks like being synced with Ring has made her somewhat biologically closer to being made of exercise energy herself, and with that? The slight ability to absorb it from the air around her. It’s a really small thing, likely just a tiny boost of power she’s drawing in from her surroundings (and returning right back after a move is complete). But it’s there. It’s visibly happening. With one exception, this doesn’t occur outside of a fit battle. And that makes sense. A fit skill taking more energy than an air blast is very reasonable. Those crates littering the place are a lot less hardy than...whatever you would classify Monsters as.

I mentioned an exception. Here it is:

Victory posing is such an odd little tradition, isn’t it? It’s unskippable; Ring always insists on it. And at first glance, his instructions are weird. “Pull in energy from the ground” sounds a bit like nonsense...except in this shot, Trainee is actually standing on a glowing platform full of Exercise Energy. (Yes, that’s what that is.) The moment she’s done charging her squat power, thin lines of light streak upwards— some into Trainee. And when she raises her arms, she expels all that excess energy into the open air. You can watch the process here.

And that’s where most of the EXP from victory posing comes from—from the well of exercise energy humming beneath her feet.

Exercise energy is life energy in constant motion. It’s created (for a lack of a better word) constantly as the body moves and burns calories. It’s also expelled constantly, and this is most visible when Trainee works out. It is not, under any circumstances, meant to be trapped in the body forever. But the act of having possessed any of it at all gives Trainee EXP, a byproduct, which can be kept forever.

———

Ring says in the initial cutscene, “The more you exercise, the more synchronized we’ll be!” The more Trainee exercises, the more exercise energy her body holds at time. The more exercise energy she holds, the more alike she and Ring are in that very moment. The more alike they are—the more in sync they are.

———

The two way connection created by synchronizing is closer to a metaphysical fusion of both participants than a simple trade off. Ring’s powers are (almost but not quite) Trainee’s powers. Trainee’s body is (almost but not quite) Ring’s body. It’s both easy and hard to see where one’s work stops and the other’s begins. So let’s lay down some quick facts.

One! In terms of powers—everything Ring and Trainee can do together, Ring can do alone. It’ll be weaker. But he can do it. He’s got his own supply of exercise energy and he’s a master at manipulating it. Ring is not helpless; you are.

Two! The glowing limbs you fight with in a fit battle belong to Ring—not Trainee. Here are even some screen caps of Ring vaguely referring to them both. (It’s even in all-important blue text.)

Three! Ring is always actively contributing to your fit battles. He is never just counting reps or giving tips. As Trainee charges up a fit skill, Ring is constantly channeling the resulting energy into powering up his battle constructs. He is actively aiming said constructs for you, always.

In the case of specific fit skills, where Ring’s battle constructs immediately appear as buff as can be—it’s because Trainee is helping. A lot of what these instances have in common is the fact that the fit skills in question are less... involved?

Imagine being Trainee, and trying to keep a good aim on the enemy as you do the Mountain Climber move. (Or even squats. I do too many of those and I start disconnecting from reality.) The Ring Raise move, on the other hand, is gentler and gives Trainee a clear, unobstructed view of the enemy throughout the whole exercise. It gives her the wiggle room to try her hand at manipulating her own exercise energy directly.

With Ring and Trainee working together, the charge-up effect is therefore instantaneous.

Four! Canonically, despite the two of them being synced, Ring can shut off Trainee’s access to his powers at any time. That’s because, for them to work in the first place, Ring must be consciously activating them. In some animations at the start of a course, Trainee stretches by pulling on him at both ends. This should summon a suction vortex. But it doesn’t. Because Ring knows Trainee is just doing a pre-run stretch.

It explains why you can’t summon a Mega Ab Guard whenever you feel like it; only when Ring suggests it. Or why you can’t just suck up tokens in mini games like Dreadmill (Ring is too honest to help you cheat). Yes, it’s a game mechanic thing. But it’s a mechanic that Ring canonically controls. Trainee absolutely cannot use any of his abilities without his explicit consent. And that’s probably why she hasn’t accidentally killed somebody in combat yet—Ring is super careful. (He’s a professional, you know.)

———

Now that we have a better understanding of what exercise energy is and a better grasp on how Ring works—let’s circle back one more time to that “physically changing to become something a little closer to Ring” aspect. Because there’s one last insane thing we skipped over.

Trainee is initially the baseline in our understanding of what exercise energy looks like in a human being. Her yellow-orange flames are our constant companion—and therefore we get misled, because Trainee is an outlier. She is synced to Ring, and Ring is extraordinary. So she’s not a good example of the average person.

But in this case, despite being a literal master, Guru Andma is.

Guru Andma, “the balance master,” is the only other human character we see using attacks consisting of all three muscle groups. Her fight is a wealth of knowledge in of itself. When she flexes her arms, they fill with RED energy. When she flexes her abdomen, it fills with YELLOW energy. When she flexes her leg, it fills with BLUE energy. This is the standard for human beings. This is normal.

What this implies then, is that synchronizing with Ring has overwritten Trainee’s original energy signature. Ring’s energy is decidedly NOT human. It’s not even fit-skill yellow; it looks close, but it’s really something else entirely. Ring of course can convert Trainee’s energy into traditional reds, yellows, and blues for a fight. (Or at least, he can fake it if he doesn’t have his Color Coding ability. He once mimicked the flames of Dark Influence early on in the game; some superficial color editing is not above him.)

But yeah. Trainee’s energy is now definitely abnormal.

And yet the process didn’t seem to put her in any physical pain? I really doubt Ring would have sprung that on her if it did. (I mean, he still should have asked for permission first.) I’d wager the effects of syncing, as deep as are, aren’t permanent once the bond is dissolved. What Ring is doing—“synchronizing”—is somehow, simultaneously, extremely mystical and yet completely natural.

———

Last segment, before I let you go.

For a long time, I wondered: what are the prerequisites, that denote syncing potential? Not impressive muscles, I’m sure; it’s heavily implied Dragaux once synced with Ring, and he was infamously skinny. Could the general attitude of a person play a role, if Ring’s energy is pure positive exercise energy? Or could it be genetic? Maybe even entirely random?

I wasn’t sure until I fought the four masters, and especially after fighting Guru Andma.

I’ll bet you anything that there’s something inherently flexible about Trainee, for a human. Something more malleable, and therefore more amenable to undergoing the dramatic changes of a sync bond. And I’ll bet you further that it has something to do with the fact that Trainee had zero previous experience wielding exercise energy at the start of the game.

Because Ring tells Trainee she has potential right after identifying that she’s new.

(The less developed a person is initially, the easier it could be to sync with Ring. Whereas a person with more intensive training would be incompatible.)

And if you’re still convinced that Ring was just impressed with her muscles—please remember that Ring is not human, and does not experience life through the same lens. It’s implied he can “see” energy with more than just his eyes. It’s how you can drop him in a new temple in an unfamiliar land and he’ll still be able to tell Trainee when she’s close to the finish line. (He forgot what static stretching was that one time. He does not have these floor plans memorized.) To him, those glowing wells at the end are like straight up beacons.

He was absolutely examining her energy.

———

To Ring, syncing probably isn’t worth writing an entire essay about. It’s natural to him, instinctive. It’s Ring making a promise to watch over someone, and to have their back as they will have his. And I think that’s beautiful. Frustrating to my curiosity, but beautiful.

———

TLDR; Synchronizing is a metaphysical bond sustained through Exercise Energy, a substance mentioned once in World 1 that encompasses the whole game. It exists everywhere in everything, in different variations of intensity and purity. Ring especially is partially made of exercise energy. It’s the glowing stuff in his tubes. There’s more, but that’s the gist of it. DISCLAIMER: This is for fun! I just wanted to try my hand at explaining how the magical sentient Pilates ring works. I feel pretty strongly about my conclusions, but I’ll go back and edit this if/when/where applicable. Thank you for reading.

———

EDIT (June 20, 2021): Updated header image. Also added a link to Ring mimicking DI.

EDIT (August 12, 2021): Added links to part 2 and 3.

———

RING ANALYSIS

Part 1: Synchronizing— How it Works and What It Tells Us About Ring

Part 2: Ring’s Powers—And What They All Have In Common

Part 3: Ring’s Biology and Possible Origins

#ring fit adventure #ring fit adventure spoilers #ring #ring fit trainee #pizzazz post #pizzazz meta #also some outfit spoilers I guess beyond world 20? idk. if it bugs you.#honestly still don’t regret giving myself a deadline. Bc yeesh if I didn’t get this out now I’ll never be free of it #if ring were real I probably would strangle him #this is basically me answering some questions that I’ve always had

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holylulusworld · 3 years

Text

Performance issues

Summary: Tony is not amused about something you said.

Pairing: Tony Stark x fem!Reader

Characters: Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Warnings: language, smut, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, hair pulling, biting, dominant Tony, daddy kink, cocky Tony, semi-public sex, role play, talk about sex, fingering

Divider by @firefly-graphics

“And then I said, ‘performance issues, it’s not uncommon,” Tony snickers, explaining how he made fun of Loki. “He tried again and again but, didn’t get it done. Loki only said, ‘this usually works.”

“Men and their performance issues, right Tony?” you smirk, watching Tony’s eyes darken when you imply he’s got performance issues too. “So sad when you are all turned on, naked and wet but the guy just can’t get it up.”

Sam chokes on his drink, looks at you with wide eyes before he excuses himself. You are never bold, not in the slightest but tonight you are a bit tipsy and Tony wears one of those suits letting his ass stick out.

He does have to know you will make yourself cum later, imagining the cocky billionaire.

“What? It’s true,” you slide your fingers over Tony’s chest, smirking when he watches the motion of your hand with darkened eyes. Unlike most of his flings, you hold his gaze, not cower in front of ‘the Tony Stark’.

“You can’t say things like that in front of Sam. He’s a prude, you know that darling,” Tony smirks. “He’s like Capsicle. Prude in front of others, kinky bastard in the sheets.”

“I hate to spend a whole day sometimes even two to prepare my body for a date. I let Janice wax my pussy and ass, go to a hairdresser, buy an expensive dress, put make-up on and right when it gets interesting, he can’t fuck me like a man.”

“Not all man can’t get it up, Y/N,” stepping closer Tony breathes in your face. His eyes drop to your cleavage, and you chuckle, patting his cheek. “Some can go for more than once in one night.

“Don’t hurt yourself, Tony,” you smirk, patting his cheek gently. “We don’t want you to have a heart attack as you swallowed too much Viagra.”

“You little,” watching you walk away to get another drink Tony fumes. “How can you say something like that without giving me the chance to prove-“ his smirk turns into a dark grin when you excuse yourself to usher toward the ladies’ restrooms. “Aw, she will be such a nice prey…”

“There she is,” Tony smirks when you spin around to watch him waltz into the ladies’ restroom. “If any other lady is inside these walls, I highly recommend leaving the room.”

“Stark, what are you doing at the-“ you gasp feeling the wall collide with your back. The cool tile wall presses into your exposed back, forces a shiver to run down your spin.

Tony holds your face with two fingers, smirking when you willingly open your mouth to let him claim it roughly. “Good girl,” he purrs, something evil in mind. “I’m gonna show you how well I can get big Tony up.”

“Big,” huffing you drop your gaze, eye lashes fluttering when Tony slowly unzips his pants. “What are you doing?”

“Get it out, darling,” he licks into your mouth, forces a moan out of your throat when his free hand grips your wrist to push your hand down his pants. “Good, isn’t it? Big and hard, only for you, Y/N.”

Frantically running your hand up and down his length you look up at Tony. He moves his hand to your throat, holds you pinned to the wall while you swipe your thumb over the tip.

“Tony, we shouldn’t-“ you whisper, afraid someone could stumble into you and Tony. “Not here.”

“Right here,” he leans closer to whisper in your ear, tugging at it with his teeth. “I’m gonna fuck you so good everyone will know I was inside your cunt. You’ll walk funny for days, my seed deep inside your little pussy.”

“Tony,” you cry out, feeling his cock twitch in your hands. “This is-“

“Yeah?” he mocks, thrusting his hips forward, making you yelp. “You’ll be my good girl or I’ll go out there and tell everyone you weren’t woman enough to take my big cock.”

“Bastard,” he grins. “I bet you can’t even make a girl cum.”

“Let go of my dick,” he growls, against your lips, hand dangerously close to squeezing your throat. “Now.”

He pins your hands roughly above your head, holding your wrist with one large palm while he smoothes his other hand over your chest to grope one of your breasts. “Tony.”

“Yeah, darling?” he grins, hand moving further down your body to spread your legs, he leans closer, breathes in your face before he moves his hand to your panties rip them off your body. “You don’t need those. I want to see all of you.”

“Tony, I’m warning you,” Tony doesn’t listen, he just stares at you intensely as he runs three fingers up and down your clit, gathering your slick. He smirks, inspecting his hand covered in your slick moments later.

“So wet for me already,” you moan when he pushes one finger into his mouth to lick your taste of the digit. “I’ll eat that cunt later. Now I want you to place be a good girl for me.”

“Why should I?” you grin, watching Tony’s features darken. He cocks his head, recalls your question before his hands grasp for your waist to lift you easily. “What? How can you be that strong?”

“Perks of trying to keep up with Capsicle and Thor,” he purrs. “Legs around me and you might wanna wrap your arms around my neck cause I’m going to rock your world.”

“Seriously? Who writes your speeches, Stark?” you smirk, not giving away you yearn to get filled by the cocky billionaire. “Maybe you should ask Steve for advice on how to seduce a woman.”

“I’m gonna break you,” Tony angles his hips to line himself up with your entrance, smirking as he can hear a tiny whimper leaves your lips when he snaps his hips forward, thrusting hard to fill you in one go. “There we go, baby doll.”

“You’re such an ass,” you grip his shoulders, hold tight onto him for dear life when he starts moving. “Do you think this will change my mind?”

“I don’t need to change your mind, darling. I will just fuck you into obedience and make you my good girl,” he grunts, grinding into you. “Feel this? Feel how good I fill you with my cock?”

“I can barely feel your dick,” you quip, a dirty smirk on your lips. “I think anyone else could fuck me better.”

“Little minx,” he hastily pulls out, almost dropping you to the ground. “I will tame your lose mouth.” Tony drags you toward the washbasin, forces you to bend over. “Look at you.”

He fists your hair, forces you to look at yourself in the mirror.

“I want you to watch me fuck this tight little cunt, darling. If you don’t watch me the whole time, you won’t cum. Hands onto the washbasin,” he smirks, lips pressing against your neck.

“Just fuck me already,” gripping the edge of the washbasin you watch Tony grip your waist to thrust back inside. He groans, savoring the moment your cunt greedily swallows him again. “Do it, Stark. Hard and fast.”

“You asked for it,” pushing against your shoulders, gripping them tightly Tony holds you down, smirking as you struggle to lift your head to watch him in the mirror. “Now take it like a good girl.”

“Fuck-“ you mutter. Mouth falling open you moan his name, take every unforgiving thrust, receive all the pent-up anger Tony needs to release. “Tony.”

“I’m so deep it must hurt,” he gets impossible faster, not caring your legs are about to give in. “Be more vocal, darling. Tell me how good my cock feels inside of you.

“G-good, Tony,” choking the words out you try anything to not cry out in pleasure. You don’t need any nosy Avenger to pass the door and know exactly what Tony is doing to you. “Fuck.”

“That’s a good pussy, darling. You know, I’ll never let you stray too far from now on,” more grinding now, he slows down. “Bet you will even call me daddy.”

“S-sick,” you squeak when he starts to hammer into you, abusing your cunt the way he wants to, “bastard. I will not call you-“

“Say it and I’ll let you cum, Y/N. If you don’t, this will be a fucking long night for you,” feeling the edge so close it hurts you lift your head to meet Tony’s eyes. He has the time of his life, smirks anytime you look at him, pleadingly. “Say it, darling.”

“Fuck, lemme cum-“ you beg, teeth gritted. You wish you could slap the grin off his face but you are too close to a long-needed orgasm, so you swallow your pride and spat the word at him. “Daddy.”

“Such a good girl,” he moves faster again, almost sledgehammering into you. “Again.”

“Daddy.”

“And again,” thrust after thrust hits your g-spot and you wonder, well you would wonder if your brain wasn’t out of service at the moment, how he can read your body so well. “Y/N.”

“Daddy.”

“That’s it, darling,” you cry out his name, along with daddy when Tony finally let’s you cum. “So good for me.” you just lie on the washbasin, forgetting Tony didn’t even bother using a condom. “Now have all of it inside your naughty little hole.”

“Fuck-“ Tony doesn’t pull out. He even grips your shoulders tighter to jerk his hips into your ass, roaring through his orgasm. “You just came inside, Stark.”

“Had to mark you inside and outside, darling. I want you to go out there with my cum run down your thighs. We will say goodnight to the others, have a warm bath and later, I’m gonna ruin you once for all…”

“What happened to your make-up?” looking at you, brows furrowed Steve tries to fathom why you look like you just got fucked in the restrooms. “Something wrong, Y/N?”

“No, I’m good,” you hate Tony watches you press your legs together. He knows his cum runs down your thighs and enjoys the struggle on your face. “Just a little tired, Steve. Thank you for worrying.”

“I think I’ll accompany Y/N to her room,” Tony clears his throat, offering his arm to you. “I can’t let one of my guests suffer, can I?”

“Ever the gentleman.”

“Oh, darling,” Tony leans closer to whisper in your ear, “I will not act like a gentleman tonight, Y/N. You will be covered in cum, spit, and my marks all over your body. Maybe I’ll spank your ass a little too…”

Steve chokes on his drink, spilling it all over his jacket. “That bastard,” glancing at Bucky the supersoldier scrunches up his nose. “Did you hear what I heard, Buck?”

“I want to forget about it, Steve. Just lemme forget about it,” Bucky shudders, turning his attention toward his drink. “I wish I could get drunk. Where is Thor? Does he still got the good stuff?”

“What if anyone saw your cum run down my legs,” you tut. “We wanted to be careful, keep our relationship a secret, and you had to fuck me at the restrooms.”

“Couldn’t help myself,” Tony grins, watching you stretch your body on his plush bed. “I think, everyone heard I made you scream my name. Now back to breeding you.”

“Stark, forget it,” shaking your head you make sure Tony knows you are not ready for kids and marriage. “No kids now.”

“I want some with you. Maybe three or four,” he grins, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No, Stark,” you growl, glancing at his erection. “But I like trying…”

“I like trying too, darling…”

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#performance issues #tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #tony stark x y/n #Smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel mcu #tony stark smut

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wtnrscap · 4 years

Text

Cursed Words- Benign

Pairings- Bucky Barnes x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Bruce Banner, mentions of past Natasha Romanoff x Clint Barton.

Summary- An attack, a rescue, a recovery... a plan. It’s time to active Project Cursed.

Warnings- (18+) Mentions of blood, death, injury detail, PTSD, panic and anxiety attacks. Swearing, fluff. Dirty talk, dirty fantasies. Eventual smut.

A/N- I think I’m getting back into a flow after college and writer’s block. Again, I apologise for letting the block get kinda out of hand. I’d resigned myself to reblogging other people’s work and writing one crappy line a day. Decided I have to get myself in order. Sorry if mess up the language parts in this and as for the brainwashing explanation, this what I think happened, although I know it’s not.

Also, I’m kinda sad. This series is starting to wind down and don’t wanna say goodbye to this blushy/cocky Bucky I’ve created. Ah well, all good things must come to an end. Taglist is open. Requests are open. Prompts list here.

Ne govori - Don’t talk (Russian)

Cursed Words Masterlist

“Bucky...? Just put her down... No one has to get hurt...” Steve whispers, taking a slow step towards the edge of the compound roof. A very pale Sam follows and you gasp for air, your feet dangling as Bucky’s grip tightens on your throat.

Steve turns his head back to Sam, “You might wanna get in the air. It’s looking likely she’s gonna drop, and if you could catch her...”

“On it,” Sam jumps up and swoops like his namesake, getting an eagle-eye view of you hanging by your throat, Bucky holding you, Steve advancing towards Bucky and the rest of Avengers minus Tony and Thor watching at the bottom of the compound. He supposes they hope to break your fall as well.

“Y/N, are you okay?” asks Steve carefully, trying not to alarm Bucky. You let out a strangled noise, “Yep. Just dandy. Can’t breathe but I’ll be fine.”

“Can you wriggle free? Sam will catch you, I promise...”

“He has by the neck with his metal arm!” you snap, “I suppose the positive is, he hasn’t killed me yet...” you try to hit Bucky with your hands. He growls and his grip gets impossibly tighter, “Ne govori!”

How are you not dead yet?

“What did he say?” gasps Steve and you force a snort, “How the fuck would I know? I don’t speak fucking Russian! Don’t happen to have a plan do you?”

“Working on it...” mutters Steve raising his shield. Bucky moves his head closer to yours, “NE GOVORI!”

“Steve, I think I have a plan... Tell Sam when he gets the signal, he needs to catch me...”

“Is it a stupid plan?”

You nod your head and swing forward, trying to create enough momentum to reach Bucky’s face. He holds you fast, and for a brief minute, you don’t think you’ll reach him. Then, you swing your right arm up into a hook punch, your fist crashing into the side of Bucky’s face. Being a supersoldier, Bucky can take a punch to the face, but you have the element of surprise, a feat which works to your advantage. Bucky’s hand leaves your throat and you plummet to the ground, the sound of rushing air filling your ears. You can vaguely hear Sam screaming, “I THOUGHT YOU SAID SHE’D GIVE ME A SIGNAL!”

Fingers brush against fingers before a hand clasps around yours and a cracking sound snaps through the air. Sam yells and loses his grip and you hit the ground with a sickening crunch.

Disconnected voices warble through your ears. Dull pain shoots across your body in spasms and the sound of someone screaming cuts through your head.

Why won’t they shut up?

It takes you a minute to realise. It’s you. You’re the one screaming.

“She’s waking up!”

“Stand back! Let her breathe!”

“I think some of us should leave... Sam, leave!”

“Why do I have to go?”

“Because you didn’t catch me...” you grumble weakly, opening your eyes to too bright light and several blurry figures. The light dims slightly and Steve comes into vision with a small smile, “Is that better? I can dim it more if you want?”

“That’s good, thanks...” you groan and shift, trying to sit up. A hand grabs your arm, “Here, let me.”

In a more upright position, you can see everyone. Nat stands by the door, her head resting on Bruce’s shoulder, Sam and Steve are by the window and Tony sits next to you, having been the one to help you up. Sam steps forward arms outraised, “In my defence, when Bucky let you go, he didn’t just drop you, he kinda threw you. When I caught you, the downward force was too much which is why I dropped you and why I now have this”.

Sam waves his right arm in the air which is covered in a cast. That explains the cracking noise when he grabbed on to you. You sigh, “What is it?”

“Broken wrist. I’m not implying your heavy or some shit, just--”

“I advise you to shut up now”.

The whole room chuckles and you turn to Steve, “Is he okay? What happened?”

“I’m not sure this is a conversation we should have now...”

“I wanna know. Tell me”.

Steve sighs and takes a seat at the end of your bed, “When Bucky dropped you, he turned on me. We fought and I ended up smacking him around the head with the shield. Hard. He woke up about 3 hours ago and has been trying to convince Tony to let him go back into cryo”.

“I’ve told him to wait for you. It’s pissing him off, but I refuse to let him go back in without talking to you first,” Tony reaches for your hand and you grasp it, “Thanks, Tony. That means a lot--”

Your voice cuts out and Steve nods his head quickly, “Oh, and you’re not supposed to do much talking. Bucky damaged your vocal cords.”

“So I came out fairly unharmed?” you croak. Bruce shakes his head, “The anaesthetic will wear off in about an hour. That’s why you can’t feel any other injuries”.

“What?”

“The final injury count stands like this. Damaged vocal cords, reduced talking. Severe bruising around the neck, don’t move your head too much. Several broken fingers on both hands, reduced activates involving your hands, internal bleeding, don’t move about fast and... a broken leg, no walking for 6-12 weeks,” Bruce finishes with a wince when he sees the fury in your face. There’s a pause and then you begin to laugh. Everyone stares at you like you’re crazy. Eventually, you manage to choke out some words, “That’s damn good anaesthetic!”

Bruce flushes, “Similar to the one they use for me. You were kinda screaming a lot.”

You look around the room and a small smile spreads across your face, “Well, we have no time to waste. We have a lot to do and--“

Steve cuts you off, “You have to recover!”

“And I will recover, but I need to talk to Bucky, obviously, and I need to talk Tony. Both in private. Can you give us a minute?”

The room grumbles as people start to leave. You tap Tony’s shoulder, “Grab me a glass of water and a whiteboard?”

“Alright, what do you wanna talk to me about?” Tony asks, handing you the water and the whiteboard. You take a sip, soothing the pain temporarily, “We need rush Project Cursed.”

Tony’s face twists, “Oh no. No, no, no. Project Cursed is far from being ready. We can’t rush it.”

“Before Friday, I spoke to Princess Shuri. She thinks it’s ready, and she’s the best.”

“I’m offended.”

“Tony, the only reason we haven’t started Project Cursed is that I wanted it to be as painless as possible for Bucky. That isn’t going to happen. The more time we waste, the stronger the soldier gets. One of these days, he’ll take over completely. We have to move it forward.”

“But Bucky will never agree to it. And we have to take brain scans. That’ll take weeks in itself.”

“It would’ve only taken weeks because we wanted a full scan. We’ll have to a skimmed scan.”

“But we could miss something important!”

“That’s a risk we have to take Tony!” you begin to cough and Tony jumps up, handing you the glass of water. As you drink, Tony sighs, “Alright, alright. I’ll get the scanner set up with Bruce and you can talk to Bucky. We’ll do some scans and talk to him about the project. How does that sound?”

You manage a weak thumbs up and Tony smiles, dropping a light kiss to your forehead, “You’ve got a good heart Y/N. Don’t talk too much”.

Bucky sits as far away from you as physically possible. He doesn’t look at you, opting to stare at the wall instead. You’d tried to talk to him when he walked in, but he’d just ignored you, so now you’d been sitting in silence for 5 minutes. You sigh in annoyance, “Bucky, we’re talking abou--”

A cough overwhelms you and you blindly reach the glass of water. The glass is inches from your fingertips and you curse Tony for putting it too far away. Panic sets in as your throat is ripped to pieces when a hand rests on your back, helping you to sit forward and take a drink. You gulp down the water, ignoring the slight burn.

Bucky puts the glass back and wipes a strand of hair out of your face, “You okay, doll?”

“Oh, are you talking to me now?”

“I’m not about to let you die!”

You glare at him and Bucky shrinks under your gaze. Almost immediately, he jumps up, leaving your side but you grasp his wrist, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I... I can’t be around you right now...” he whispers. You shake your head and pat the space beside you, “Bucky... Last night was my fault. Clearly, I said a word, one of those horrible words. I wanted to talk to you about a plan to fix all that.”

“I’m not sure it can be fixed... I almost killed you...”

“Bucky, when I took these,” you pull the dog tags out from under your hospital gown, “I knew what was I was signing up for. I have seen you at your worst and I know, the best is yet to come. I want to get these words out your head, but you have to trust me and work with me. Please... I’m begging you...”

Bucky looks into your wet eyes and sighs, sitting next to you, “Fine. Tell me about your plan.”

Tony hands you another scan, and you trace your finger across the sheet. It alarms you, what you see. You always knew that Bucky’s brain wasn’t going to be the same as everyone else’s, but this... this was worrying. You glance up at Tony carefully, “I’m assuming you noticed this straight away.”

“I’m not a doctor... But Bruce pointed it out to me... Then Helen looked it over and we ended up sending it to Shuri. We’ve all come to the same conclusion.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and glare at Tony, “Do you understand now? Why we can’t wait?”

“Yes... I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“Realistically we need more scans. Scans for when he’s sleeping, but the physical evidence will have to do...”

“Care to let us in on the secret?” Steve’s voice cuts through yours, interrupting your harried whispers with Tony. You nod your head and Tony moves to stand by the window as you lift a scan and point at it, “This is the area of the brain where the words are stored. At night, Bucky is at his weakest, that’s why he has so many nightmares. If we took sleeping scans, we’d probably see increased hyperactivity here.”

“So why are you so worried about his scans for when he’s awake?”

“Be quiet and you might find out!” you snap, “During the day, this area of the brain is usually dormant. But from these scans, we can see that it’s not as benign as we thought. There is increased hyperactivity during the day and-- Bucky are you okay?”

Bucky nods his head, clenching hard, “Just having an internal battle with the devil. Continue, by all means.”

“Right... uh... There is increased hyperactivity during the day which means that the soldier is taking over more frequently. Um...On Friday, when Bucky was with me, he was relaxed and enamoured, meaning he was at his weakest and the soldier was able to take over easily. As time goes on, it’s becoming less about the words, although they are still the core problem”.

“So what do you suggest?” asks Steve, biting his lip. You look at Tony and he stands, “Project Cursed...”

“Which is?”

“A Hydra-inspired Avengers-modified treatment.”

“Hydra-inspired? What the hell?”

“Hydra wiped Bucky’s mind. They used electrolysis, right? Electric shocks through the brain, so he would associate each word with pain, and make it easier for them to control him. He would hear a word and know he had to do what they said if he didn’t... pain. As the years went by, his body went into auto-drive, hear the words, do as they say, disobey and expect pain. Like training a dog to know when it hears the bell, food is coming, except a lot more brutal,” you explain, “We want to do a similar thing. Small electric shocks through the brain, someone says the words and associates them with something nice. He’ll be able to learn not to expect pain from hearing the words.”

“And what about the soldier?” asks Bucky, his face pale. You smile, “The electric shocks will be fed directly into the storage area of your brain, hitting the soldier. As you get better, the soldier should begin to disappear and, when the treatment is finished, he should be gone completely. We’ve had the green light from Shuri so I’m confident this could work. Although it won’t happen overnight. It’s going to take weeks, months, maybe even years. I can’t pretend it won’t be painful for you either. But it’s the best plan we’ve got.”

Bucky and Steve glance at each other, their eyes betraying a whole conversation that you can’t hear. Then, Steve snaps, “No. Absolutely not. This isn’t treatment, Bucky, this is torture!”

“I’ve had 70 years of it, pal, what’s a few more? And this should help me, in the long run”.

“In the long run! Bucky... I can’t tell you what to do--”

“You certainly try...”

“But if you do this... I can’t be a part... I can’t help you...”

“Steve... you want these words gone from my head as much as me. I’m going to need your help and support...”

Steve looks scared and your heart reaches out to him. He just wants his pal to be free, with no more pain, and this... this could set him back months, mentally. Eventually, he sighs, “I wanna sleep on it. And I think you should too.”

Bucky shakes his head, reaching for your hand and pressing a light kiss to your knuckles, “I don’t need to. As long as Y/N can be there, with me, helping me, then I don’t need to. I have more of reason than ever to get these words out of my head.”

Steve doesn’t respond. His eyes glaze over where Bucky’s hand meets yours and the slightly visible chain underneath your hospital gown, and he knows. Bucky’s made his choice, and there’s no moving him. He sweeps out of the room, closely followed by an apologetic Tony. You turn to him, “Do you mean it?”

“What?”

“That I’m a reason for you wanting to get rid of these words?”

Bucky smiles and presses a kiss to your lips, “I gave you those dog tags in the name of love. You are my biggest and best reason. You are my hope.”

Taglist:

@indecisivedolly

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