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#to do some kind of skill enhancement
ochibrochi · 7 months
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spontaneous magic manifestation was NOT mentioned in the parenting handbook 😬
I know this isn’t how magic in dc works, but the fact that Damian’s ancestry includes some pretty powerful magic users is… INTERESTING 🤔? Drabble under the cut!
I wanna preface that I'M NOT SAYIN' that Damian should/does have magic powers, but there’s still so much unexplored potential with Damian's character, and the thought that he has a dormant adeptness in magic is somewhat compelling to me. Most importantly it would FREAK! BRUCE! OUT!!!!! What is this, magic puberty 😭??
By DC laws, anyone has the ability to learn magic, but it is also possible to be an innate ability. The Al Ghuls are no strangers to the occult-- Ra's has had increasingly been portrayed as a magic user, and the recent establishment of his mother being a sorceress/witch?? Even Talia dabbled in a bit of magic, I think. There is a catch that their power is suggested to be due to Lazarus exposure, but for arguments sake let's say the Al Ghul lineage is inherently proficient in magic (and Lazarus exposure simply enhances it).
I can't recall "magic" being a part of Damian's training/upbringing (I'm still slowly catching-up on Damian comics so apologies if I miss any canon examples of magic use). Not sure why Talia wouldn't want her little "heir to an ancient assassin empire baby" to learn magic, but it would at least give reason to Damian not knowing about his magic potential, or lack of interest in it.
Through the power of pseudo storytelling, what if Damian's encounter with Mother Soul could have triggered a manifestation of magic that was once dormant; like a pressure cooker waiting to explode with energy when it hasn't been given a safe outlet.
I've yet to read a satisfying arc where Damian truly gets to contemplate his Al Ghul roots outside of "dad is good guy, mum is bad guy". Damian's initial character growth stems from him running away from, and renouncing his association with the League (i.e. "I'm nothing like you, mother and grandfather!").
The most recent thing I've read was Robin (2021), and whilst Damian is much more cordial with his mother, there's still an emotional distance and sense of distrust/resentment (for good reason, even if the context was some cartoonishly evil writing). But there is a silver-lining that they still appear to be fond of each other, in a melancholy kind of way.
Realizing he's "genetically" primed for magic would be especially confronting to Damian. There's no denying his Al Ghul blood, forcing him to confront a facet of himself he can no longer ignore or reject. A family that he likely has to approach for help/guidance.
Damian is put in a position of acknowledging this power could be used for good, to be stronger, to fight crime, balancing it with the implication that what he possesses could be rooted in dark magic (Lazarus enchantment).
If he decides to embrace it, would that be too much of an endorsement of the Al Ghul's dark occultism? Can he separate the two ideas? What if he can't control it? What if he accidentally hurts someone? What if has the ability to save someone where his other skills fall short?
Ideally, I'd love for this hypothetical story to lead into Damian exploring his Al Ghul heritage more intimately, historically, and spiritually (à la RSoB: Year of Redemption adventures). Another little coming-of-age self discovery journey.
I have my own little personal thoughts on what Damian decides to do with his magic powers, but I'd like to leave that open to interpretation... By the end of it I hope that he will at least find some forgiveness over resentment, and a balance between accepting that side of his family a little easier. It is finally a sense of inner peace :)
Any thoughts? Did I get any characterisation wrong? Let's talk over on my DC blog @arkhamochi! I'm currently trying to read all Damian-centric comics until I catch up with the current run. I'm hungry for discussion and analysis!!!!!!
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foone · 6 months
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The rules are simple: Two wizards. Two pistols. No magic.
Now, don't misunderstand: "No magic" of course means "no magic now". The pistols are constructed using magic, of course. Wizards don't carry unenchanted firearms, that'd be silly. You don't spend years learning to bend all the rules of spacetime just to make a gun that shoots lead bullets using exploding powder. No magic just means you don't cast a shield spell while you're taking aim. But if you want to bring a gun you've designed to cast a shield itself when drawn? Go nuts.
So most wizards will have a dedicated dueling gun for these reasons. You want something that helps against the other wizard's enchantments, something that protects you from the effects of their bullets, and casts some protective magic on you. Shields, invisibility, illusions, healing... Your dueling pistol is usually a tricked out masterpiece of everything you know about magic and firearms.
Which is why this pistol in front of you is so worrying.
It's basically virgin. This is the product of a skilled gunsmith, not a wizard. There's no shields, no infinite ammunition, no enchantments on the bullets, which are mere lead and brass. There's some low level enchantments to strengthen the barrel from misfires, and the powder is enhanced to ensure it's always enough. That's the kind of magic you'd find on a pistol you buy from an average gun store, and it'd cost you only a few coins. This is the weapon of an unmagical security guard or a robber, not the dueling weapon of a world-class magician.
Veynor turned up his magic sense as far as he could without melting his eyes out of his head. Could it have an enchantment to hide other enchantments? No, unless they're being powered by half a city's worth of power. And even if they were, that much anti-magic would hide the low level enhancements on the barrel and the powder.
He asks if he can examine the bullets. "Bullet", says the nameless wizard, pulling out the empty magazine and showing it to Veynor. They pull back the slide and eject a single bullet, grabbing it in their other hand with practiced ease. They hand it over, and Veynor stares at it with the kind of intensity you only see when someone is looking not with their eyes. It's... Lead. Lead and powder and brass and a primer and the only magic here just makes sure the powder is sufficient to fire it. That's the kind of enchantment that you cast on a whole batch of bullets to ensure none will misfire, not the kind a wizard intricately carves into each bullet individually to give them a fighting chance in a magic battle.
Veynor hands back the bullet, and the nameless wizard loads it back in their pistol. It's a bluff, it has to be. They're trying to scare me, he thinks. Wizards know the inverse rule of subtlety and power. Your average wizard throwing fireballs and lightning is a student still in their first few years, while an old master will not need to do anything as flashy. They'll just wave a hand dismissively and your entire family line going back seven generations will retroactively be erased... So this has to be a trick. They know they're outclassed (Veynor has been at this for decades, after all), and are trying to psych him out. With a gun this cheap and unpowerful, they're betting that the more powerful wizard will call off the duel out of imagined danger.
Too bad. Veynor is not blinking at the bluff... "Let's do this".
They face away from each other, as if they could only see from their eyes. Veynor holds his pistol high, and the nameless wizard holsters it, their arrogance apparently extending to not needing to have it ready to fire. Another attempt at bluffing, as if Veynor could even call it off now. The rules are clear, and wizard rules aren't the kind you break without consequences.
They take their requisite ten paces, and Veynor flips around and takes aim, his pistol setting up shields and blurring his image as he takes aim at... Nothing? Where's the nameless wizard?! Did he flee? Veynor didn't feel any ripples from a teleport, he must have gone invisible. His gun continues casting spells on him, and he feels the enhanced vision kick in. The morning mist fades and the clouds in the distance come into view, but still no nameless wizard.
Veynor swears. The nameless wizard must have cheated. There's no way that gun could have done this. If it could, he would have seen the enchantment. Well, if they're cheating... He casts a review spell, rewinding time in his mind and watching the duel again. They face away, the take the steps. 1,2,3...
The cloud parts in the distance. There's a rumbling in the ground. Even with enhanced vision it's not obvious what happens. Veynor tries to dismiss the review magic but their magical control is going haywire. Something is very, very wrong. They start to feel like they're being pulled out to sea by an undertow, as the ambient mana field is suddenly becoming a raging river pulling past them.
In their vision, they see the nameless wizard stop at the end of their paces, and turn as they reach for their pistol. As the review ends, they see the holster glow with the colorless light of magic, as an enchantment activates. That's their trick, they placed magic on the holster! But what kind? And what's happening in the sky?
The clouds part to a black circle with a silver rim. The circle grows in size, seemingly, an Veynor casts a farsight spell now to see this from another angle. Casting his vision miles to the side, he sees the circle is a tube descending from the clouds at a shallow angle, pointed right at him... Oh sweet silent mother, that's the barrel of the pistol. It's now big enough to cross the inland sea, with a caliber better described in miles.
The sky goes dark as the barrel blots out the sun, the shadow stretching halfway to the way station at the edge of the wizarding wastes. With his senses stretched by the enchantments on his gun, he sees the events happening in slow motion. There's a click, and a hammer starts moving towards the back of the bullet.
Veynor tries to set up a teleport, an emergency one to anywhere, anyplace, any time but here. The flowing mana is making it difficult but he sees a destination: the abandoned fortress at the other end of the wastes. It'll be easier to get to than outside the wastes, and it'll give him time to set up another jump. The sky shatters as a sound starts coming his way.
With his slowed time sense, it'll be minutes before he can hear the gunshot, but already the shockwave is visible, even to the unaided eye. The bullet is supersonic, however, so no matter what happens he'll never hear that gunshot: either he teleports out of here or the bullet turns him and half the landscape into a fine paste.
He focuses his vision on the fortress, concentrating on finishing the teleport. The soundwave of the gunshot hits the fortress in his sight beyond sight, and it doesn't collapse, exactly, so much as cease being a structure and reverts back to a thousand small stones no longer sharing any association with each other.
With his destination destroyed, his teleport fizzles. The sky is still dark, but the mana flowing towards him has sped up to the point where he's having trouble staying upright, as his footing gets shakier and shakier. He looks up and sees the slug moving towards him at a bit more than the speed of sound, and he closes his eyes.
It doesn't help, his magical senses continue to show him the movement of objects around him, right up until the moment of impact.
The barrier around the wizard wastes goes white, and slowly fades back down through the colors until it returns to its normal semi-transparency.
The nameless wizard catches the hot brass in their right hand, before it hits the rapidly solidifying bedrock under their feet. The wizard wastes are self-healing (you'd be surprised how much even the average wizard duel destroys the landscape), but that's no reason to litter. They look at the deep crater they find themselves in, and start planning a route up the side. Most of it is still flowing, with the sand and rock intermixing in their white hot state, but there's spots here and there that are cooling quicker.
They could try a teleport, but it's a nice day for a bit of rock climbing. Besides, like they always say: half the trick of being a wizard is knowing when not to use magic. And right now the local mana field is a bit chaotic, having just gone through the equivalent of the Chicxulub impact.
They hike up their robes and begin to climb. Their feet may be heat proof, but they don't want to singe their robe again. It's a lot harder to enchant wool with heat protection spells, something to do with how the will of the former owner interferes. They make a note to do more research into the inherent magical abilities of sheep, once they climb out of this crater. Behind them, rocky ejecta finally crashes back into the crater. They wonder if the barrier has a roof, or if they just flung rocks onto the moons. They'll have to ask one of the lunar residents later, and make amends for any property damage.
They'll have to get lunch after this, all this climbing is working up an appetite. Maybe some mutton chops, since they were thinking about sheep? There's a good place on the bigger moon, they haven't been there in a while.
On the moon, there's a small impact, a puff of dust thrown up into the (lack of) air and slowly drifting back down. In the puddle-sized crater, a heavily enchanted pistol lies, still in perfect shape. The engraving on the side, readable in all languages, says "if found, return to Veynor". The dust lands on it, slowly burying it.
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drabblesandimagines · 5 months
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Nettle Soup
Halsin x female reader 5,776 words of fluffy nonsense
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--
It had started as an innocent tickle at the very back of your throat, something you’d barely given more than a moment’s thought to - fair enough due to the fact you had a tadpole squirming around in your skull to contend with. A day or so later, it had graduated from a tickle to an annoying and stubborn irritation which very much demanded attention – wouldn’t shift despite how many times you’d tried.
It would clear, surely, you thought, especially since the curse had lifted from the land and you were on your way towards Baldur’s Gate at last.
Except it didn’t.
If anything, it got worse - like you’d swallowed handfuls of crushed glass, the way it stung with every swallow – accompanied by heavy limbs and growing fatigue, no matter how much sleep you managed. Perhaps that was hardly surprising after the number of fights you’d undertaken recently, not quite as young as you once were. 
Although not comfortable with the hitchhiker in your skull, you were at least confident it wasn’t the first sign of ceremorphosis, though the concern that Lae’zel may try to slit your throat if you voiced any notion of feeling unwell remained, so you kept silent.
You powered on, as you always do.
Gale frowned when you didn’t finish your portion of stew that evening, all sat around the campfire. He prided himself on keeping the party well-fed and anything but clean bowls appeared to be a personal affront to his skill. It wasn’t that you felt nauseous, just a lack of appetite made the quarter you had managed sit too heavy in your stomach.
“Was it not to your liking?” The wizard hovers over your shoulder. “While I’ll admit it is a repeated recipe from a few days ago, you enjoyed it well enough then.”
“No, no, it’s wonderful, Gale.” You smile, trying to appease his anxieties by laying a hand on your stomach. “It’s just filling – I’m stuffed already.”
“I recall you had second helpings.”
Oh, he had you there. Think.
“We had just fought Ketheric Thorn too, quite a difference from the day’s leisurely pace.”
“Hm.” His pout remains, and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach has been joined by guilt.
“Hardly a repeated recipe, though. I’m sure I noted something different on the palate?”
That did the trick, a wistful smile now gracing his face. “Ah, yes, I did stumble upon some splendid wild garlic that I thought would enhance the flavour profile – how kind of you to notice.”
You nod along, politely, as Gale tells his tale – something about how it elevates the spices - not noticing the wood elf staring at you curiously from across the circle.
You’re thankful it’s not your turn to keep watch as the githyanki takes her place in the centre of the camp, sword laying ready in her lap. You don’t wish to dawdle around the campfire like you do most nights, worried she might sense something off about you and jump to conclusions, so you bid the remaining members of the party goodnight and walk at a brisk pace to the safety of your tent…
..only for an icy cold grip around your elbow to jerk you into their own, your back now pressed against a firm chest with a thud.
“Surprised, darling?” Astarion murmurs into your crown, his other arm wrapped around your waist. “I thought you better than that. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
“Bed.” You reply as brightly as possible, overcompensating for how rotten you’re now feeling.
“Oh, but the evening is still so young! I have a fine idea that will while away the hours, if you would be so very kind.” He drops his grip on your elbow and ghosts his hand up your side, making you squirm.
“Not tonight, Astarion.” You shake your head. Maybe it had been a mistake to let him feed off you after that first night. “I’m tired.”
“I can wait until you’re asleep, my sweet.” His hand finally reaches the back of your neck, giving it a slight squeeze. “I’ll be sure not to disturb any of your pretty dreams.”
“No.” Your tone is firm, maybe a little too firm as the vampire stiffens against you and drops his hand, causing your stomach to squirm with guilt once again. “Another night, I’m all yours – I promise.”
Astarion spins you around and you nearly lose your footing – a fact not missed by the vampire as his face transforms from annoyance at your denial to mild concern.
“My, you are out of sorts.” He sighs, before he plasters on a smile that you know to be fake. “Very well, darling. Off to bed you pop.”
You nod a thanks and hurry out of his tent, casting your eyes to the ground in the hopes of keeping steadier footing, only to collide into something firm.
A large, solid chest, covered in familiar druidic garb.
“My sincere apologies,” two warm hands grasp your upper arms, steadying you once again. “I am afraid I did not see you there. Are you all right?”
Your scalp tingles from the gravelly tones of Halsin’s voice, a warmth flushing over your cheeks as you look up at the former archdruid, his brow furrowed in concern.
“I’m fine, Halsin. And I should be the one apologizing - I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?”
He chuckles at your concern. “Of course. Although you have remained polite by not yet mentioning my stature, I am sure you have noticed the comparison between us, little one.”
Although one to lose your temper with the use of such pet names in inns or in combat, there is something entirely different when Halsin says it. You know it is not meant to be patronizing, more a sign of his age, really – it’s wholeheartedly sincere, affectionate, perhaps even… loving? Well, you could still dream, couldn’t you? Even though he’d kindly turned you down at the celebration for the tieflings at camp all those weeks ago, you’d be a liar if you didn’t still kindle a flame of affection for the large elf. You smile, wryly. “I suppose I have.”
“Forgive me for prying, but is anything the matter? You seemed in quite the hurry after supper. I confess I’d hoped to catch you for a moment.”
Your throat stings again as you swallow. Halsin is a healer - he would be the one to mention it to…
But you don’t want to be a bother, especially so soon after Thaniel. What was a sore throat in comparison to being trapped within the Shadowrealm for near on a century? Pathetic, really.
You shrug it off, “A little tired, nothing an early night won’t sort. What did you wish to speak about?”
He smiles at your response, though you notice it doesn’t reach his eyes. You wish you weren’t so observant of him to be able to identify which are real and which are polite.
“Ah, no, nothing of urgency. Please, do not let me keep you from your well-deserved rest any longer.”
You eye your tent in the distance, but hesitate all the same. “Are you sure?”
“Quite.” He squeezes your upper arms, gently, before letting go. “I bid you sweet dreams and a peaceful sleep.”
--
You don’t even fall asleep deeply enough to dream – tossing and turning for hours, one moment feeling too hot and then another too cold, periodically drinking from your waterskin trying to ease the rawness of your throat.
You give up at dawn, quickly dressing in your armor. Instead of waiting for your companions to rise, you set your sight on climbing the hill not far off from camp - it should provide a good vista of the road ahead to Baldur’s Gate. It shouldn’t be a long walk either, you’ll be there and back before even Karlach has roused, usually the last to do so.
You had only made it a quarter of the way up the admittedly gentle incline when you start to feel unusually winded from the exercise – it feels as if you are not quite breathing deep enough, oxygen stagnating at the top of your lungs. Perhaps you’d laced your armour too tight that morning in your haste to get moving? The sun is still only a little over the horizon, given the earliness of the hour, but you feel so very warm, a sheen of sweat already on your brow.
You raise a weary hand to wipe it away, but your vision swims in response and you stumble, all reflexes abandoning you and your face meets the dirt.
--
Halsin lets out a sigh as he rubs his back against the bark in his bear form, the ridges appeasing an itch that had been bothering him since he had wildshaped. It has been a while since he’d indulged the bear for purely pleasure and not combat – it hadn’t felt right to do so when traveling through the shadow cursed lands.
He’d woken early, as usual, and decided to take advantage of an hour or so to patrol the area before the plan would be to head towards Baldur’s Gate. Heading to the city wasn’t something he was looking forward to – to be cut off from the nature he so adored made he feel uneasy - but he’d made a vow that he intended to keep.
A familiar, invigorating smell crosses his snout, carried in the gentle breeze. He inhales it deeply, being drawn him from his thoughts.
White violet, jasmine, a touch of sandalwood…
You.
It is too strong a scent to have drifted in from camp, which must mean you’re close by. He drops down to all four paws and begins to follow the trail, curious as to what has brought you out so early and, perhaps selfishly, hoping to take advantage of your company.
He doesn’t have to travel far, though, lumbering a hundred or so metres out of the wood that lines the path. His stomach sinks when he sees you sprawled out on your front down the incline, unmoving, eyes open in a blank stare in his direction.
The next thing you were aware of was thundering paws on the earth, a flash of gold and then warm, heavy palms turning you over to face the dawn sky. A very concerned wood elf soon fills your vision, pressing a hand to your cheek as his eyes scan you over, frantically.
“What is it, my heart? Speak to me.” Heart…? The world goes black.
--
You wake up slowly. Your eyelids feel heavy, drifting in and out of consciousness until, finally, you manage to crack both eyes open to find yourself swaddled in unfamiliar furs and blinking up at an equally unfamiliar ceiling.
No, not ceiling, but the inside of a tent and one that is not your own. Various herbs and flowers are hung from the support pole across the top, seemingly set out to dry, dotted between other hand-made trinkets. There’s a scent of wood smoke, flowers, freshly cut grass, and something enticingly sweet...
You sit up in alarm, trying to work out where you are, panic rising in your already tight chest when your eyes meet those of the large wood elf’s, sat only a little way to the side of the bed roll.
“Ah-ah,” Halsin chides with a sympathetic smile, pushing you back down easily with one large palm upon your shoulder. “Please - you must rest.”
“This isn’t my tent.” Your voice is painfully hoarse, but you lay your head back on the pillow in defeat and watch as he tugs the furs back up to under your chin - the brief moment you had been upright a chill had prickled across your skin, almost down to your very bones.
“That is true.” The former archdruid nods, looking a little bashful. “We were camped at quite opposite ends this time round.” Your party did tend to spread the tents out across the ground you used, rather than all cluster together. “I thought it best to bring you here, where I have everything to hand to easily prepare, rather than go to and fro whilst I oversee your recovery.”
“Recov-” You don’t reach the end of the word as a horrendous, wracking cough emerges deep within your chest. You sit up again in panic, hoping it will cease. Halsin assists you with one hand on your arm and an arm around your waist, before he begins to rub large circles on your upper back.
“Easy, little one. Easy. I know it is uncomfortable, but it will pass.” He says, softly. It doesn’t feel like it will – the pain is sharp, a tightness in your chest, a burn in your lungs, heart pounding as you feel more and more breathless with every cough.
Tears burn at your eyes but, true to his word, slowly but surely, it begins to settle, allowing you to catch your breath at last and left feeling exhausted.
The hand leaves your arm then but one remains on your back, keeping you steady, before a waterskin is brought up to your lips. “Take small sips. If you drink too quickly, it might trigger another fit.”
You nod, reaching up a hand to hold over his as he tips the liquid into your mouth. It’s soothing on your raw throat, but only for a brief moment. When he deems you’ve had enough, he pulls the waterskin away, placing it back down to the side of the bedroll before pressing a hand to your forehead, a poorly concealed frown soon gracing his lips.
“You have a fairly high fever.”
“Can’t you…?” You reach out to mimic cure wounds – a spell you’ve seen him and Shadowheart cast many a time - but it seems even your depth perception has abandoned you as you brush up against the wood elf's firm chest, before snatching your hand back and circling your wrist in what you think looks a somewhat magical motion. Halsin lets out a chuckle that makes you feel flush – your temperature varying sporadically by the minute.
“Wounds and other injuries indeed, as can Shadowheart, but I am afraid for such illnesses as this the only treatment is rest for a few days, supplemented by herbal remedies to alleviate symptoms.”
“No,” you shake your head and immediately regret how it makes your vision and head swim. “We must press on - the Absolute are already in the city.”
He looks at you in alarm. “You cannot mean you wish to go and face them? You know I admire your unwavering resolve and strength to do what is right, but at the moment I fear a light breeze would be more than enough to knock you prone.”
“But-”
“No. I cannot allow it.” His tone is firm, a growl at the back of his throat – it reminds you of how he had spoken to Kagha once he’d returned to the grove. "You will rest. Lie down,” he doesn’t even need to push you back this time with a heavy hand, you’ve gone quite limp against the arm that had been supporting you, shrinking back at his tone of voice and nestle back down amongst the furs.
 “Thank you.” Halsin replies, sincerely, the tension dropping both from his shoulders and voice. “I… I apologise for my manner of speaking, but I know of what I speak - you must rest in order to make a full recovery.”
“I’ll try – I promise.”
He looks down at you with a smile before brushing some loose hair from your face and then cupping your cheek with a large palm and calloused fingers. If you’d had more of your wits about you, if you could think clearly, you would’ve noticed the flash of gold in his palm as he cast sleep upon you.
--
You wake up to a hand pressing a damp cold compress against your forehead and your chest feeling tighter than before. You can’t help the wince as you open your eyes, the light smarting despite it being somewhat dim inside the tent. Halsin is sat cross-legged by your side, a frown in place.
“I am sorry to have woken you, but I am afraid your fever has developed.”
“Oh.”
“I have prepared something that will help. Allow me to sit you up.” Somehow, he manages to slip his arm beneath your head and around your shoulders, assisting you upright to lean back against a pile of firm pillows. Once he is satisfied you are settled, he produces a bowl from his side – a waft of steam emitting off the top.
“Here. It has cooled enough to drink.”
“What is it?” Your voice is still awfully hoarse, a raw sting as you talk.
“A staple in every healer’s repertoire - nettle soup. Adept at reducing fevers.”
You take the bowl carefully from his hand, though his follows closely as you guide it up to your mouth lest your grip fail.
You gulp down a mouthful, but it’s absolutely foul upon your tongue, burns your throat as you swallow it down. It feels as if you’ve taken a gulp out of a particularly filthy pond, one thick with algae.
You hold the bowl back out with a shake of your head, hoping he’ll take it. “That’s disgusting.”
Halsin smiles, knowingly – seemingly a complaint he is not all that unfamiliar with hearing. “Whilst I admit the taste is far from what one might call pleasant, it will do you a world of good to drink it.”
You shake your head again, trying to hand it back to him. “I can’t.”
A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest. “Dare I enquire your age again, little one? The children in the grove manage it just fine.”
“I’m not a child,” you pout – too feverish to realise the contradiction of your actions. “And they surely do not.”
“They do…”, he retorts, a wistful smile crosses his lips, “albeit with the promise of something sweet after they’ve rested. Would that suffice?”
“Something… sweet?” Your mind drifts off to somewhere it should not as your eyes drop down to focus on the druid’s mouth.
“Mm. They are quite partial to honeycakes, does that appeal?”
You shake your head, placing the bowl down on the floor between the two of you. Though a fan of sweets, the idea of eating anything at the moment doesn’t entice at all.
“No? Well, perhaps you have something else in mind. I’m sure Baldur’s Gate itself will have something to your tastes.”
“I want a kiss.” You mumble.
He must have misheard. “What was that?”
“A kiss - that’s the sweet thing I want.”
“Ah,” if it wasn’t for the dim light within the tent, you would’ve sworn the druid was blushing. “Now, that’ll be the fever speaking.”
“No.” You gaze up at him, wishing you had the strength to curl your fingers in his hair and pull him in for the kiss you crave. “It’s not. I’ve wanted one since that night at camp, the celebration with the tieflings. I swear I’ll drink all the nettle soup in Faerun for a kiss.” “Since…” He trails off. “No, I couldn’t, little one.” He shakes his head, truly looking apologetic. “I won’t. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Why?”
He cups your cheek in a large palm, a small smile on his lips. “I do not believe you are quite aware of what you are requesting, given your current ailment.”
You purse your lips in thought, trying to seek a compromise. “What about when I’m better, then?”
He removes his hand and nods. “When you are recovered and if you recall this conversation and still desire it, then… yes, you may claim your sweet.” He mumbles towards the end, not quite believing what he was apparently promising. “However, you will still need to drink the nettle soup now.”
“Deal.” You acquiesce, and Halsin picks up the bowl in offering.
It burns as it goes down – all four or five remaining mouthfuls - but you manage the whole bowl.
“Good girl,” the wood elf murmurs with a smile – it makes the discomfort feel worth it for a moment - as he inspects the empty bowl, swapping it out for the waterskin once again.  
“Now, try and sleep some more. By the time you wake, it will have done its work and you’ll be feeling much better.”
You lie back down without protest, closing your eyes. The furs smell like Halsin and you soon drift off back to sleep, a feverish thought of being wrapped up in his arms and the kiss you hoped to claim come morning.
--
Day turns into night and then day once more, the hours passed with numerous bowls of nettle soup that still burn at your throat with every swallow, vegetable broth for more sustenance and countless naps to no improvement. Halsin has been trying to distract himself with whittling, but it is not proving successful – lopping off half of the duck’s beak when you stir momentarily. He’s checked your temperature with the back of his hand too many times to count. There’s a taunting rattle from your lungs between bouts of sharp coughing fits that doesn’t seem to be easing either. The nettle soup should’ve broken your fever at least – he hadn’t encountered one in all his years that it had failed to do so – but you seem to be growing worse by the hour.
He watches as you toss and turn, brushing your hair from your face. You’ve done so much for him – freed him from the goblins, ensured the safety of the Grove and its occupants, defended him whilst he recovered Thaniel, freed a realm from the shadowcurse of beyond a century and yet he cannot return a simple favour by ridding you of a fever?
“Is she sick?”
“Thaniel.” Halsin’s starts at the sudden appearance of the spirit. The boy is knelt besides him, staring down curiously at your slumbering form. “What are you doing here, my friend?”
“Your party hasn’t moved on - I wondered why. Is she sick?”
Thaniel remained as curious as ever, it seemed.
Halsin sighs. “Yes, I am afraid so. The fever and cough proves most stubborn – I fear I am depleting this area’s supply of nettles.”
“Nettles?”
“For the soup – it reduces the fever. Or it should.”
Thaniel frowns, leaning over you and taking a cautious sniff. “But she smells of spolar.”
“Spolar?” The word seems vaguely familiar, though it sparks a sinking, sickening feeling in his stomach.
“It will have been a long time since you’ve had to treat it.” The boy shrugs. “A large purple mushroom, remember? Its spores line the lungs – its growth accelerates if surrounded by nettles.”
“No…” It’s as if a hand is squeezing at his heart. “I don’t recall seeing any on our travels out. It would grow so quickly?”
“Nettles are sturdy enough even for the shadowcurse, so when it was lifted it had probably laid dormant beneath the soil until the time came. How long have you been treating her?”
“Nearly two moons – numerous bowls of nettle soup.” Halsin’s face has drained of all colour. “By Silvanus, I’ll have been nourishing the infection itself.”
“You did not mean to,” Thaniel replied, patting Halsin on his thigh. “Do not fret. Vapours from a wilted Sussur Bloom will clear the lungs when inhaled, suspending any further spread. Then she will just need rest.”
“A wilted…” He gets to his feet, his mind whirring with the next steps. “I must make haste back to the Underdark – I could be there and back by night fall with the aid of sigil circles.”
He hurries out of his tent, finding Gale sat outside of his, camped a stone’s throw away, and a large tome in his lap.
“Halsin,” Gale starts cautiously, setting down his book at the wood elf's urgency. “Is something the matter?”
“Everything.” The druid drops to his knees and empties out his pack – planning to stuff it full of as much Sussur Bloom as he can lay his hands upon. “I made her worse. She’s inhaled the spore of the spolar.”
“The spore of what? And how could you have made her worse?” Gale quirks an eyebrow, trying to keep up. He has never seen the wood elf so flustered. “I don’t understand.”
“Spolar… the spores line the airways. It feeds and thrives upon other vegetation – I’ve been giving her nettle soup. She told me it burnt and I insisted she eat more. And she did, because she trusted me.”
“Oh. Well, you didn’t know-”
“I should’ve known!” Halsin explodes in response, his voice echoing around their encampment. “I need to go to the Underdark, I-” He gets up to his feet and immediately stumbles, catching himself before he could fall. Gale is quick to stand in front of him, hands held up to try in a feeble attempt to stop the wood elf leaving.
“Halsin, when is the last time you rested?”
“It matters not-”
“It very much does.” Gale chides. “Look at you – you are in no fit state to look after yourself, let alone gallivant off to the Underdark.”
“What the hells is going on?” Astarion appears the other side of Gale, drawn out by Halsin’s outburst.  
“I must set this right. I cannot allow her to suffer a moment longer due to my negligence-“
“Okay, I’m sensing there’s a lot more to your feelings here, but allow me to assure you that we all care about her. Allow us to assist you, to aid you in whatever you need in this moment.”
“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Astarion almost stomps his foot, never one to be ignored.
Halsin sighs, running a large palm down his face. Gale is right – he is exhausted, unable to enter a state of reverie in the past days in fear of you needing him.
“A Sussur Bloom. I need to retrieve one from the Underdark.”
Gale frowns. “But they don’t work outside the Underdark.“
“Wilted ones, they-"
“Wilted, you say?” Astarion looks at his fingernails for imaginary dirt. “I’ve got a handful in my pack still, I’m sure.”
Halsin sets off running in the direction of the vampire’s tent and his pack, Astarion hot on his heels.
“Now, wait a moment!”
--
Halsin won’t look at you.
You’d woken up, confusingly, back in your own tent two days later to Gale sat by your side and your fever broken. Your voice was still a little hoarse and walking around the camp left you all but winded, but that was meant to pass in another day or two, then the plan was to finally set off towards Baldur’s Gate.
You’d felt bad for holding the party up for so long, but everyone has been rather kind about the delay, doting on you a little more than you’d like.
All but Halsin, really, who stares over your head – not a hard feat given his height, true – but still, it smarts when you cannot catch his eye, especially when it was something you used to achieve so easily. He appears to leave the campsite before dawn and returns for supper, though he moves away from the campfire when you take your place, thanking Gale for the meal before hurrying off.
It’s driving you mad.
Tonight, though, you have a plan. You took supper back to your tent, feigning the need for an early night to your companions and lying in wait for Halsin to depart the camp once more.
You find the elf stood at the very edge of the lake, standing in the shallow waters as it laps to and fro, hands held behind his back.
You approach cautiously, conscious of disturbing a meditation or ritual the ex-archdruid might be partaking in, but it seems he is already acutely aware of your presence.
“There’s a chill in the air tonight.” His voice is firm – you can imagine him using the same tone when he was chairing heated discussions amongst the other druids back at the Emerald Grove. “You should go back to camp and keep warm by the fire at least if you find yourself restless.”
“Halsin,” you choose to ignore him as you wring your hands together and take another step closer. “Have I… offended you in some way?”
“Offended? Never.” Still, he keeps his head turned away from you.
“I apologise sincerely if I said something that upset you whilst I was sick. I’m afraid I don’t recall much of the time in your tent – it’s all a bit of a haze.”
“That’s understandable. You were…” His breath hitches, as if it’s painful to remember. “..quite unwell. But, no, you did not say anything malicious or cruel – it is not in your nature.”
“Then why won’t you look at me?”
His biceps tense as he brings his arms back in front of him, his shoulders heaving up with a breath before dropping back down as he swings round on his heels. He meets your eyes for a second or two before his gaze moves back above your head, as if something was extremely interesting in the distance.
“There.” A forced smile – it doesn’t reach the wood elf’s eyes by a mile. “Now, will you go back to the camp?”
“No.” You huff, taking a step closer.
“Please. Your lungs are not fully recovered yet and the chill tonight will do you no favours.”
“I’m not going back until you look me in the eyes and tell me what I’ve done to be treated this way.” You stand firm, stubborn.
He sighs, seemingly exasperated at the conversation. “You have not done anything, my h… friend.”
“I must have done something.”
“You are mistaken.”
 “No, I’m not.” You retort back, placing your hands on your hips. “Ever since you healed me, you’ve been-”
“Healed you?” He scoffs, derisively, meeting your eyes at last with a furrowed brow. “Healed you? I did no such thing - I made you worse!”
You stare for a moment, bemused. “What? Worse how?”
“You said the nettle soup was burning your throat, you told me multiple times and I dismissed you saying it for not liking the taste, not of a symptom. Every time I had you drink it, I was giving the infection what it needed to thrive. I was killing you.”
“No.” You shake your head. “I don’t remember that.” And you don’t, everything’s hazy – vague memories of cooling compresses on your head, a supportive arm around your waist as you drank from a waterskin. “Why would I keep drinking it if it hurt?”
“Because,” he takes a shuddering breath, “we made a deal.”
“A deal about what?”
“I beg of you not to make me relive my shame.” Halsin sounds defeated, but you continue to push.
“A deal about what?”
“I… I told you of how the children in the Grove took their medicine under the promise they would receive something sweet when they were better. Honeycakes, candied fruits, the like. You…” His voice grows tight. “You asked for something else sweet.”
You feel your face flush, a hazy, whisp of a memory now becoming crystal clear. “A kiss.”
The wood elf’s shoulders shudder. “I took advantage of your trust in me.”
“Advantage?”
“Of your feverish state.”
“I’m the one who suggested the kiss.”
“And I’m the one who agreed due to my own selfish desires, ignoring what my patient was trying to tell me.”
“No, you thought you were doing the right thing. We all make mistakes, or misinterpret. I’m fine.” You wrap your hand around his forearm as best as you can, trying to tug him forward. “Besides the whole tadpole in my head, of course…”
He smiles, wryly, at your poor joke, though you see tears burn at his eyes. “I just… I cannot stand the thought that I have caused you harm, little one – intentional or otherwise.”
“You haven’t, Halsin.” You place your other hand tentatively on his chest and look up, feeling his heart beat beneath your fingertips. “I am well and, if you were still willing, I’m ready for my sweet.”
He shakes his head. “As much as my heart desires it – and it does - I do not deserve it.”
“Am I not allowed to be the judge of that? And I say a deal is a deal.”
“You… truly wish for it still?”
You stand up on your very tip toes and press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, as far as you can reach. “More than ever.”
A firm arm wraps delicately around your waist – cautious of squeezing you too firmly – and heaves you up easily against his firm chest, his other hand cupping your cheek as he captures your lips in a kiss. It is soft and delicate, as if he’s worried you’ll break, but when you lift your hand to tangle in his locks and tug to bring him closer and deepening the kiss, there is no mistaking the growl that emits from his throat when your tongues intertwine.
As soon as you drop your hand from his hair, he retreats too, dropping you back down carefully to the ground, eyes scanning you in concern.
“You’re breathless, my heart.” You feel your cheeks prickle with heat at the term of endearment. “And flush too. Please, I insist you go back and keep warm-"
You cut him off, pressing your fingers against his lips, exhaling breathily. “Two things. One, I’m breathless because of your kiss. Two, I’m flush because of your words - what sort of reaction am I meant to have to you calling me that?”
He lifts his own hand then to hold yours in place so he can kiss the fingertips pressed against his lips, before tugging your hand back down and interlacing your fingers.
“My heart, my love, my sun, my moon, my stars - so many things I wish to call you whilst I lavish you with affection from dusk till dawn, and dawn till dusk… if you’d allow me, that is.”
“Allow?” You smile, “I encourage – heartily.”
It happens too fast to comprehend, a gentle twist of your arm to twirl you in front of him before one arm wraps around the back of your knees and you are swept off your feet, the wood elf commencing large strides back towards the camp.
“Then I insist we return to your tent where you will have as many sweets as you desire.”
“Oh, my tent now, is it?” You tease. “I thought I had to go and stay warm by the fire.”
 “Yes, but, lucky for you,” he smirks, “I am known to run quite hot.”
--
Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x
Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi
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suempu · 5 months
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hiiii could you write some nsfw headcanons for chilchuck with a reader who’s insecure about their body?
gn + implied human! reader + kinda dominant chilly chuckles
<3
oh my, that man is not good with emotions. one of his flaws is that he’s kind of bad at dealing with them since they leave him in a vulnerable state. it was no secret that he’s emotionally constipated, his past wife left him because of that.
but ever since you came along, chilchuck has been slowly improving, not wanting a repeat of what happened. he’s acknowledged that by loving someone, he needs to be able to be open with his feelings and become mindful of yours.
once you work up the courage to tell him, he visibly stiffens up. chilchuck is silent for a few seconds, he really wasn’t expecting this while he was kissing you up.
he spends a few moments awkwardly fiddling with the buttons of his half done shirt as he thinks of the right words to say.
“…. i… don’t really care about what you look like.”
okay. he could’ve worded that better.
“i-i mean! i enjoy being with you… for who you are.”
chilchuck’s biting his lip, looking at you hesitantly as he reaches a hand out to you. he’s looking anxious before you wrap your arms around his shoulders.
he yelps as he’s tucked into your chest, letting out a sigh of relief that you don’t seem upset. you pull away and look down at him with a smile.
“you suck at this.”
“i know.” he sends you a grin.
placing one hand around you, he pushes you gently to sit on the bed. he stands in front of you and holds your face, nuzzling into your nose which brings a laugh out of you.
“i know i’m bad at… this kind of stuff but i meant what i said.” he looks at you seriously, big ears twitching as hair strands falls to his face, rough and messy after your heated lip-lock earlier.
“i’m nothing but an old, brooding man. i love the way you make me feel and i want… you to l-love how i make you feel…. regardless of what you look like.”
he can see how you’re biting back a snicker as he tries to get his act together. chilchuck can feel his face getting hotter as he hears your bubbling laughter. but he’s glad you’re less nervous as before.
“y-you think this is real funny, do ya?” he yells out.
he’s kinda grumpy after all that, feeling a bit embarrassed that you laughed at him. after a few kisses smothered on to his face, he slowly gets back into the mood, making sure to pay extra attention to your reactions.
if you ever cover yourself up, he will give you a peck while slowly taking your hands off and whispering reassuring phrases.
he will kiss down your body as he keeps his eyes on you, forcing you to watch him. when he finds out which part makes you insecure the most, chilchuck will leave open mouthed kisses and suck a hickey on it.
with his enhanced hearing and senses, your quiet whimpers and gasps gets him going as he touches and feels you thoroughly with his fingers.
since this is your first time being intimate together as a couple, he makes sure to treat you softly and gently. he’s attentive to the spots that make you moan out the most, notices how you grip the sheets harder when he licks and sucks on a certain area. all of them noted in his head so he can figure out what else you’ll like.
chilchuck groans breathily, he’s kind of ashamed to lose control of himself, thinking it’d only embarrass himself.
“am i not making you feel good..?”
“where did this come from?”
“you don’t… make as much noises as i do. i’m wondering if i’m not doing enough.”
once he hears your reason, he immediately rushes to assure you. though still a bit hesitant, he’ll try to let go more the next time you’ll get intimate.
can i just say he’s skilled at giving oral. his hands and fingers can take you to god and back once he finally finds out what specific things you like. he loves being all in there, loves your smell, your sounds, your fluids.
he doesn’t say it out loud though. which makes you wonder why he keeps asking if you could fuck his face whenever you two do it.
“is this some sort of kink of yours?”
“just say yes or no!”
after one round, he can get pretty spent. but if you’re still needy, he can muster some energy to make love to you slowly.
oh, and he lives for lazy morning sex. sometimes you’ll wake up to him kissing down your shoulder and arm, whispering small ‘wake up’s to your buzzing ears.
aftercare with him is… well, lazy too. he’ll drop to your side, breathless as he stares up at the ceiling. after a few moments he’ll sit up and look down at you on the bed, whispering sweet praises as he holds your face.
he’ll smoke for a bit, facing away from you. he doesn’t want you to cough from the smoke after all.
drags you to the bathroom after a few moments. he hates being sweaty and you’ll have to kill him before you force him to snuggle right after sex.
chilchuck just doesn’t like feeling gross, he’d want to be clean as soon as possible. he will fuss over you during bathing. divorced father of three but with the way he’s acting makes him look like a mother.
he will scrub you down to the bone but will be less aggressive if you tell him it makes you uncomfortable.
“put your clothes in the basket, dry your hair, make sure you brush your teeth properly.”
“i always do! follow your own advice, you alcoholic.”
“i will drown you in this tub.”
what a nice and loving man, am i right
after bath time, he’ll lay on his side with nothing on but some underwear. his arm is around your torso as you fall asleep while he watches you with a soft smile, fingers tracing soft shapes on to your skin.
8/10 for being emotionally constipated but an A+ for trying. (i’m kidding he’s great)
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utopya-cc · 2 months
Text
youtube
(Preview) Functional Handbag | Gameplay Mod
Check Patreon posts for Better Preview gifs Quality,
Hey everybody, I hope you are all fine and doing well. The mod is finally done, and I am super happy with how it turned out!
It has taken a lot of time, but I think that it was worth it, and I do think that it is my new favorite (I know that each time I make a new mod, I say it😂), but I am really proud of it and excited to share it with all of you,
So, where should we start? The mod is called Functional Handbag. It will be all about adding quality-of-life interactions to the bag that will help in youre sim's everyday life,
The bag is now Fully animated. Everything about it is animated: the zipper, the button pin, and everything has its own custom sound,
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Get Ready Interactions:
Let's start with what you have seen in the preview videos: the "Get Ready" interaction that you can use on mirrors. This interaction will allow your sims to apply makeup and get ready to go out.
I want to clarify that the interaction won't make your sims wear any makeup. The in-game vanity lets you do that (and to be honest with you, I don't like it at all. The in-game makeup looks so bad), and even if I wanted to add custom makeup to it, it would always be way better to apply and chose youre makeup with cas, So I didn't think too much about it, and kept the mod focusing more on enhancing the gameplay and the outcomes of the interaction.
The get-ready Interactions can be played On all types of mirrors. It contains a lot of kinds of Makeup animations that may play randomly during the interaction for better immersion; each animation will have its own animated object that youre sim will pull directly from their Handbag.
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To see the interactions, your sims should have a Designer bag in their inventory. Then, you will find a new pie menu in all the mirrors: Get Ready.
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You can choose inside it the occasions that you want your sim to get ready for;
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Each interaction will help your gameplay differently, depending on what you plan for your sim to do, and will have different outcomes.
Sims around you will also be affected, like your romantic partner may feel flirty, and others may receive a happy or confident buff and may be fascinated by how well-maintained your sim is
As in real life, getting ready will take some time, around 40 to 50 sim minutes. But the outcome will be rewarding for your sim and others around them,
Getting ready for a date will give you a +2 flirty buff for 5 hours; the interactions will help your sims have a successful date or even help single sims have a successful romantic encounter.While the buff is still active, it will allow your sim to Build a romantic relationship faster than usual,
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Getting ready for an event will give you a +2 Confidence buff for 5 hours. This interaction will help your sims to have successful encounters with other sims.While the buff is still active, it will allow your sim to Build a Friendship relationship faster than usual,
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Getting ready for your day will give you a +2 Happy buff for 5 hours. This is more of an everyday interaction; it won't help in building friendships or romantic relations,but it will help with negative emotions. Negative Buffs won't affect your sims that much, and some of them will decay way faster,It's quicker to apply. Your sim will be done getting ready much faster than the others.
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While the "Get ready for date and event" are great for building relationships, "Get ready for the day" Will work great to build skills or tasks or just random chores in general,
"How do I look?" Interactions:
New romantic interactions will be available after getting ready. How do I look? It will only be available for sims that have more than 60 in romance,
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I added this feature much later, so I didn't have much time to create a new animation for it, so I just used some in-game ones. I think that I have mixed two or three animations together to achieve the question, the compliments, and the reactions afterward.
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This interaction may be played autonomously; it has some cute comments and flirty emotions for both the target and the actor,
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Maintain Appearance:
There will be a "Maintain appearance" interaction after using the get-ready one. This one will be available directly in your bag, and your sim will only use the hand mirror instead of the big mirror, so it can be used anywhere you want. But you can't choose what occasion with it,
it will carry what you already Have Chosen with the mirror, and it will not be available unless you have used the get ready on the mirror one,
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This one works as maintaining the makeup. Or a quick refresh: it has its own outcomes, and they will also carry the same benefits as the original ones, so it can help to extend the Buffs if youre sims haven't finished their date yet or the event isn't over,
so, if the buff runs out and you still want the same benefits, this interaction will come in handy since it's way quicker than the big ones,
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Inside The Bag Interactions:
As I said in the beginning, this is a gameplay mod that will serve to help out youre sim in their everyday life while keeping it realistic enough to be more immersive and fun to use,
First off, there is a whole new pie menu Called "Inside the Bag" on the designer bag itself in your sim inventory.
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It will have a lot of new interactions That will help significantly with your sim needs, but their uses are limited by time, so you cannot spam them. They will be missing after using them and will be available again after their buffs have run out,
Those are gameplay interactions that will help youre sim on their daily basis. Each new interaction will help to fill different needs:
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All the interactions have Their own animations with their animated object and their own custom sounds,
To check the preview of their animations and learn more about what they do, check the Patreon post!
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blingblong55 · 1 year
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The Mess we made - Colonel König nsfw
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This is based on a request:
May I humbly request your writing talent and creativity of a dirty, nasty, hardcore smut you can come up with based on colonel König x reader, please? His back scratched, reader’s in deep with pleasure
F!Reader, smut, 18+, MDNI ಠ_ಠ, p-in-v, solidier!Reader, sexual! relationship, unprotected sex
There was something about the way that you looked in your uniform that had your CO touching himself at night. The way that your shirt would get tighter around your chest area, how your curves looked like when you sparred with a few of your teammates and how you looked like, at least in his imagination, on top of him.
Lately, you have been giving your attention to some new recruit, he was actually quite kind and funny. König didn't like how you looked beside that man. So, the only way he could ensure others would know you were busy, with him, was by making you train for hours on end. At times, he'd wake you up earlier, knocking on your door and using his best drill sgt. voice.
Today one of the other COs ordered you to train with the recruit, said he was lacking in hand to hand combat, and since everyone on base knew König was enhancing your skills lately, they figured you'd be best option.
You and the newbie were in the sparring room, both exhausted but laughing. "I swear you'll leave me aching for days, dude." a small chuckle escaping him. "Yeah, sorry, didn't mean to throw ya into the mat like that."
Once you both finished that small break, you continued to spar, teaching him new moves and giving a few examples along the way. His hand on your waist as he was now learning a new move to bring someone down, your eyes locking as you spoke. "Once your hands find the enemies side, you'll have to-"
"Hands off her!" König spoke as he approached you both, "Sergeant, in my office, now." you and the newbie both pulled from the other, you with a confused look just obey his order. König stayed behind, giving the newbie a newer move. Definitely not using this as the perfect excuse to let his anger out of the poor man.
You sat on one of the chairs in his office, toying with the hem of your shirt. You hear some whistling, König, based on the rhythm. He walked in, closing the door behind him, he stood by the window, looking out, "That man doesn't know how to fight, much."
"That's why I was teaching him, sir." You try to at least, in some way, defend the poor newbie. Anytime he wanted to have you, he would, but that was usually in the comfort of either of your rooms. Hence to why you were calling him 'sir'. "I never told you to teach him," he turns to you, closing the blinds, "Why don't you ever listen to me, schatz?" he asked you, he sat on the chair next to yours, towering over you. His voice more softer now, unlike back in the mats, low and gentler with how he delivered his words.
"What do you mean, sir?"
He has never spoke to you, not in this tone. "Why can't I never have you, for myself?" a hand on touching your chin, him and you making eye contact, "Uhm, sir-" you weren't sure why he was doing this, especially here. When you two established this 'relationship', you two agreed to only have the other do what they'd please behind closed quarters.
"Don't talk, little one, just listen."
You nod, not knowing what else to do. Part of you was into this, the other part of you was scared. There were times when he would do something that would have you weak at the knees. How his arms in that muscle shirt would be flexed after lifting some ammo boxes, or when he would workout, how he would lift so effortlessly.
"That's my girl, always obeying me," a hand snaked to the back of your neck, the other still on your chin, "Now, you follow as I say, ja?"
You nod, willing to do whatever he says at this point. "Good, start to take that ugly jacket off," he stands back up, finally going to sit on his chair. You removed the army jacket, staring at him, not knowing what to do next. "Hm, seems to me you must remove the rest, can't have you like this." he leaned back in his chair, smirking under that mask. "But sir-"
He shook his head, "tsk tsk, I don't want excuses, take it off." As he watched you hesitate, he went up to you, hand on your shoulder, "You want to make me happy, don't you?" You nod, his hand at the button of your trousers, slowly, he unbuttoned them, he then removed your belt. His hand digging into your trousers, the other hand on your thigh, "Hm, seems to me I need to see you, all of you, so stand up for me," he grabbed your wrist, pulling you up and making you stand up, "now take it off and don't test my patience." he commanded.
You soon stripped from your close, he couldn't take this view, especially not when he knew that stupid newbie had his hands on what König calls his. "Bend over my desk, c'mon, do it." now he was definitely desperate to have a taste of you. You bend over, his hand rubs your bare ass, the other hand snakes to the front of your panties. Warm hand toying with your wet slick.
"So needy, hm" the other hand still rubbing your ass. Lips on your neck, licking, biting and sucking the soft skin. "König not here, please." you begged, because what if someone walked in or what if someone heard your moans.
"Thats the fun part, schatz" he whispers against your ear, nibbling at it. He wanted it to be final, for everyone to hear you call out of his name. Hear the pathetic cries you let out as he made you his. Hips thrusting in you, for everyone to hear but not see. Not yet at least.
He lowered you panties to your ankles, spit on his mouth and rubbed his fingers against the entrance of your aching entrance. "Hm," he looked at the old hickeys he had left on your back just days ago, "seems you're due for more." He lowered his trousers, played with himself as he watched how you would desperately look back. Eyes looking from the door to him. Drove him crazy knowing you two could get caught, but that was the fun of it, wanted to experience it so others would know about you and him.
Your body did him wonders, made him play with himself when you weren't around and at meetings when you would sit across from him, looking up at the board with those sweet innocent eyes of you. The same look he wanted to corrupt, make it change just for him. He didn't, like how you were so innocent, how you knew so little but did so much.
He parted your legs and without any foreplay or warning, he slid his now aching self in you. He knew his size was big, that you could only take so much. But today he wasn't playing nice, not when his favourite toy let another man touch her. Although the touches the newbie and you had were innocent, he didn't like them one bit. Now, here you were, taking him all of him.
You were so small compared to him so taking him like this was hard, yet it felt so...right and good. He started to thrust in slow, opening you for him. Hands on your hips, you still bent on the desk, your hands gripping the edges of his desk. Small moans could be heard coming from you as you tried to not make much noise.
"Louder, I want them to hear you." He definitely wanted to make a show out of you, humiliate you as he took you, knowing the other hungry men would be outside his door, listening as you took every part of him. He forced your mouth open, hand on your mouth as the other still guided your hips.
Your ass becoming red as his thrusts go harder and faster. He fucked the anger and frustration on you. Degraded every second he spends in you. "Such a fuckin' slut for me," another few slaps on your now raw ass, "what a slut you are, taking me like this. I bet you like it." He dragged another moan from you, this time louder, just like he wanted it to be. His accent coming off more stronger by each thrust. Once he knew you'd be willing to keep moaning loud for him, his hand slides to your wet cunt. His thick fingers start to toy with you, "I bet you like being treated like a whore." You couldn't respond, your brain in mush as waves of pleasure started to create through your body.
He slammed his hips on your ass, his cock deep in you, he leaned in, biting your back and shoulder. His moans and yours echoing around the room. He knew he was close and he didn't mind if you were or not. Today, his needs were above your own.
He pulled out, pre-cum dripping from you and him. He sits on his desk chair, removing his shirt, knowing this view would be your only reward. A finger motioning for you to sit on him, he wanted to see those tits of yours bounce as he came in you. You, like his toy obeyed. He lets you guide his throbbing cock inside, once your hands met it, you slide it in. Causing more moans to leave your sweet lips. More for the men outside of the door to hear.
You start to ride him, his lips meet your hardened nipples. He bites and licks them. Your moans of pleasure and pain, causing him to feel himself get closer. Your hands on his back, gently holding yourself as you ride him. "König, t-this is....too much" you could feel yourself get more and more sensitive.
But since today, he wanted to please himself and not you, he didn't care. Instead, his hands on your hips, making you go faster, he slapped your ass every now and then. Causing more moans and cries to come out. Your nails digging deeper into his bare back. You started to leave red marks across it. This only fed his needs more. "Look at you," he said as he pulled back, eyes staring into your, mascara running down as it mixed with your sweat, "takin' me so good." The praises finally began.
He knew he was getting closer, so he thrusted faster in you. Your inner thighs would for sure be sore by tomorrow. He leans in, lips on your shoulder as he slowly licked it. Hands still on your hips, at times they be on your ass, spreading your ass so he could feel himself finally fit inside your tight cunt.
Thrusts becoming more sloppy, pre-cum on your and his thighs. He bites into your shoulder, moaning and whimpering can be heard. Your nails leaving more red trails across his back.
His hips bucking as he started to cum inside of you. Filling your walls with his white seed. "Oh schatz, the things you do to me." he let out a small moan. He cups your face, your brows furrowed, tears running down as he wipes them away. "Look at you, such a mess," his voice now more soft, letting his cum drip from in you to your thighs, "you know I don't allow you to look like such mess." He kisses your forehead, he leans and grabs a napkin from his desk, he gently wipes your now dry mascara tears from you. "You did well, liebling." he kissed your cheek and then leaves continuous kisses on your lips.
He moves the hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear. He hugs you, his head on your now bare breasts. "Such a good girl." he whispers, a hand on your back as the other holds your ass, rubbing it slowly, as if he was now caring for it, unlike a few minutes ago.
------------------
A/N: I hope this was smutty enough. If it wasn't not to worry, I have like 6 other smut requests to write.
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Note
Could you make a fic where Miguel gets the female reader pregnant and they're happy but he's worried about her safety? Maybe have a villain find out? Cause some angst?
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Risk Something (You're Losing Me)
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse) x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Language. Spoilers (Miguel's backstory is mentioned). Angst! Alert!, Unplanned pregnancy!Alert.
Word count: 4.3K
A/N: Since I had already established some background and emotional intimacy, I thought I could write this as a sort-of-sequel to my previous one-shot Host of a Ghost. I was so excited to write this, especially because I don't usually write angst but I like to push my boundaries and leave my confort zone. Hope that it pays off and, of course dear anon, that you like it <3
Part III
You’d never really believed in long-distance relationships. After being witness to so many unsuccessful ones, you’d cataloged the entire concept into a box labeled “certain failure” and tucked it away in the back of your head. And yet, with an inconsistency worthy of your friend Hobie, you’d gone and gotten yourself involved in no less than an interdimensional relationship.
How? Well, that was a good question.
All it took was five simple steps:
Step one: Live a regular life. Go to school, graduate, and try to go for a Ph.D. that gets you working near genetically modified insects for just the right amount of time for you to become careless enough to let one crawl onto your backpack, take it to your apartment, and let it sting you. Throw in some negligence, forfeit going to the hospital, and go on about your afternoon. Warning, some side effects like loss of consciousness or intense headaches can be expected.
Step two: Congratulations! You’ve now become a super-powered person with abilities that range from climbing walls and performing gravity-challenging parkour to creating a sticky web-like element that helped you swing from one building to another. Toy around with your new talents, and grow comfortable with them before realizing that you can actually use them to be the much-needed help your city needs.
Step three: Turns out you’re not the only one with this kind of ability out there. There’s a whole Spider-Society full of similarly enhanced people who try and do their best to keep their own dimensions safe, and you’ve not only caught their eye but have actually been invited to join them. Let your new guide Jess Drews show you around, and explain all the benefits that come from joining a team such as theirs. If you decline, you can go back home and that’ll be all.
If you’re interested, it’ll be necessary to convince the leader but they could use some extra help so it shouldn’t be particularly hard. It sounds like an amazing chance. Information you wouldn’t have access to otherwise, mind-blowing facilities where you can polish your newly acquired abilities, possible new friends that actually know what you’re going through…Say you’ll think about it. Right as you’re about to leave, the most fucking gorgeous man you’ve ever seen in your entire life walks past without paying either of you any mind, busy while speaking to another Spider-Person. You ask who that is, turns out he’s the aforementioned leader, “will I ever have to work with him?”, you ask. “Probably, eventually” Replies Jess. Ask when you can start.
Step four: Do your best to earn your place in this elite group. Successfully improve your fighting skills, read everything available on interdimensional traveling and the multiverse. Understand it almost instantly because that’s how smart you are, kudos to you. Realize that for some reason, despite never actually interacting with you, Spider-Society leader Miguel O’Hara tends to stare. A lot. Is it because you’re progressing as fast as Jessica says or because she’s a complete liar and you’re actually doing it all wrong? No idea. All you know is that even during mundane scenarios like laughing in the hall with all the newest additions to the team or in line at the cafeteria, you feel a certain tingle in the back of your head that makes you turn around. Of course, the moment your eyes meet, he turns around and leaves. An odd one, yes. But you’ve also heard things. Rumors, here and there about his life before creating the Society. Whispers about a lost family and some video archives being the only evidence that they even existed in the first place. And, of course, the fault he had in the destruction of their dimension. You sympathize with him, despite his apathetic attitude towards you. You’ve seen him interact with those he’s closer to, and you know there’s more to him than he lets on. You’d be elated if he ever let you take just one look at the smidge of his old self that sometimes peeked out from behind the iron curtain. Well, not really. One look wouldn’t be enough. If anything, it would only cement your feelings for the man.
Step five: Curiosity killed the cat. We all know that. You know that. And yet, you decided to go snooping around Miguel O’Hara’s computer and personal files until you accidentally switch his computer on for long enough to let the videos he’s always watching start playing. He…his daughter…an entire lost life gone before his eyes. Then, before you could do the right thing and turn the computer off, an eerily familiar voice called at him from behind the camera. So, of course, you had to keep watching. Long story short? All those oddly constant stares, that coldness towards you, unwillingness to look you in the eye, was because of two reasons: first, you were a nearly identical interdimensional variant of the wife he’d lost in the dimension he unwittingly erased from existence. Two, as he’d confessed after realizing you’d found out about the truth, Miguel had come to terms with the fact that he was in love with you, not as a replacement for somebody from his past but as a new presence in his life that he’d been struggling to watch from afar, unwilling to let all his repressed feelings spill out like water from a broken dam. Until that night, of course.
Now, eight months later, you’d come to realize there was actually a sixth step you’d never actually considered until now that you were in this…situationship.
Step six: Uncomfortably avoid every and all circumstances in which interdimensional disparities and canon consistency regarding your relationship could come up. Don’t say anything like “Well, it’s been nice but I’ve got to go back to my own dimension” because that would remind him that his dimension was not yours too. That you were after all still a stranger in a strange land. Which of course also meant never inviting him to stay in your dimension.
Deep inside, you knew that all those details would eventually cause problems, especially regarding the inner conflict Miguel was always dealing with knowing what he was doing…what you were both doing, went against his strongest principle. But by God he was happy. Happier than he’d thought he could ever feel again. More than he deserved. So he just ignored those intrusive thoughts and focused on whatever task was at hand. And you were too. Even after just eight months, life without him already seemed unimaginable. He was your first thought in the morning and your last before you went to sleep, and more than once his presence beside you had been not just a figment of your imagination, but a part of your reality as you felt his strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you closer whenever you strayed too far from him in bed as he groggily whispered, “¿Y a dónde crees que vas, preciosa?”, Or when he buried his nose in the crook of your neck, lining it up with soft kisses that sometimes ended up in both of you being late for your assigned tasks. With so much on the line, you were more than happy to avoid those spiky subjects. It seemed like such a small price to pay with all you were getting in return.  
You weren’t sure of where all this was going, but none of that mattered. Right now, you were together. Inside the Spider-Society you were a great team and each one was a valuable asset. Outside, every second spent in your arms was enough to make him forget Spider-Man. To you, he was Miguel and nothing more. And that was all you needed.
Life was good. You were happy with the way things were. Until, as it usually happens, a necessary disruption came quite literally crashing into your life in the shape of a fifteen-year-old that carelessly swung around a corner and crashed into you after you’d been chasing him like the rest of the Spider-People after receiving Miguel’s message.
“Miles?” You asked, recalling his name, which you’d actually been hearing for quite some time since the circumstances of his existence started being a problem for your boyfriend. The boy didn’t answer. He just looked at you, his eyes filled with confusion and fear until you hesitantly took a step aside to leave the escape route open for him. If anything he looked even more baffled, but when the noise of his pursuers reached your ears he rushed down the hall and you lost him after he took a sharp turn.
Before you could be spotted, you ran in the opposite direction and hid around a corner as you tried to call Miguel on your watch. Of course, it was in vain. Well, Plan B. Fortunately, this time you did get a reply.
“(Y/N)?”
“Peter! Yes, it’s me! Where are you?”
“Where do you think? I’m going after him like everybody else. I need to get to him before…sweetie, please just get back in there, Daddy’s on the phone right now…I need to get to him before- “
“He’s already left the headquarters,” You informed him.
“Wait, you saw him?”
“About a minute ago. He was on his way to the North exit.”
“(Y/N), are you sure you should be a part of this chase right now?”
“Why not? Jessica is there, isn’t she?” You replied, smiling to yourself. Good old Peter B., looking out for you like some sort of self-appointed brother figure.
“Well yeah, but she’s not running, kid. Although I don’t think she should be on one of those death machines either, I don’t what she’s…”
While he kept on rambling for a bit, you looked around and wondered if you’d ever seen the building this empty.
Empty.
Your eyes slowly ran along the pearly white walls until they landed on the hallway that led to the room where the Go Home Machine was kept. Practically unchecked, if Spider-Byte had joined the pursuit.
“P.B., I’ll talk to you later,” You absent-mindedly replied, hanging up on him without waiting for an answer as you dashed down the hallway.
You kept thinking about that poor kid’s eyes. After having all that information unloaded onto him, instead being given enough time to somewhat process everything he now had to escape from the very people he was supposed to feel safe amongst. When he sat on the floor right in front of you right after the crash, he was sure you would immediately hand him over. Maybe a few months ago you would’ve done it without hesitation but now…things had changed.
There it was. The Go-Home Machine. You thought you saw a purple blast inside that let you know Byte was still there. However, if your theory was correct, Miles would have to go through that hall and therefore, you. A few minutes later, a sudden voice booming from your watch startled you.
“(Y/N)!”
“Miguel? Where are you? I’ve been trying to…”
“(Y/N), listen to me! Miles lured everybody out on purpose, he’s trying to get to the machine. I can see your location back at the headquarters and he should be coming your way in less than a minute!”
“Alright. I’ll handle it.” You replied, ending the call before he could ask you to elaborate on that.
Sure enough, light footsteps came in your direction shortly after. Right as Miles entered your field of view, an alert issued by your watch made your stomach drop and a dreadful feeling fill your chest. However, you’d made up your mind. There was no going back now.
Mile spotted you at the end of the hall and stopped in his tracks. His eyes were determined, not as afraid as a few moments earlier. If he was there that meant he’d somehow gotten past Miguel. You fought back a smile when you wondered how pissed he’d be about it. Having his ass kicked by a teenager was something that, maybe under different circumstances, you could tease him about.
“He’s a delight, isn’t he?” You finally spoke, trying to somewhat lighten the mood while taking a step toward the kid. However, he got in a defensive stance, furrowing his eyebrows in distrust.
“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to talk.” You assured, showing him both your hands, “Miles, listen very carefully. This is exactly what Miguel was talking about a while ago. At this very moment. Right now, I’m supposed to stop you from getting to that machine and handing you over,”
Of course, he took another step back.
“Miles I’m not going to do that,” You assured him.
“Why not?” He immediately asked, constantly looking behind him, wondering if this was just you trying to stall him like, unbeknownst to you, he thought Peter had tried to do a while ago.
“Because I’m sure there’s a better way to go about all this. I love him so much, I do, but he’s so afraid that I don’t think he’s willing to see other possibilities and by the time he does, it might be too late for you. Now go before anybody else gets here.”
You didn’t have to tell him twice. Miles darted past you as soon as you finished talking, taking a second to look back before reaching the dimly lit room where his ticket home was. His eyes scanned your face and darted down for one second before he looked up at you, a new worry in his eyes that had you wondering whether his spider-sense was strong enough to perceive something you’d just found out yourself.  
“Are you going to be okay?” Miles asked, his eyes looking down for a moment once again. Did he know? Did he mean “you” as in just you or as in…?
“Yes, don’t worry. Now get out of here.” You insisted. With one last hasty “thanks”, he ran into the room as your left in the opposite direction. You weren’t worried about Spider-Byte. She was a good kid, and she’d do the right thing.
The right thing. What did that even mean anymore?
You’d deal with the moral implications later. For now, as you found yourself on the other side of the headquarters, your mind was set on finding Miguel. Maybe you could try and talk some sense into him, make him reconsider whether this was…
“What the hell was that?”
By now you’d gotten used to Miguel’s habit of sneaking up on you. Usually, hearing his voice coming out of nowhere brought a smile to your face. This time, you closed your eyes and winced as you felt his presence behind you.
“Don’t even try lying. I know that voice you used in the call. The one for when you’re about to ignore whatever order I’m about to give you, so I checked the cameras.”
“Miguel, I…” You began to explain yourself just to be harshly cut off.
“(Y/N), what were you thinking? Do you realize what you just did? Do you have the slightest idea of the consequences…?”
“I do realize that you just asked a fifteen-year-old child to stand by and let his father get killed right before calling his existence a mistake, Miguel. What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking of our safety, and that includes Miles’. You’re right, he’s a kid and that means he’s selfish and immature enough to endanger everything we’ve all been risking our lives to protect for years.”
“Miguel, listen to me,” You insisted, “You’re scared. I know. I am, too, but have you ever considered that maybe there’s another solution? Do we even know for sure that allowing the kid to go and try to save his father is going to cause any real damage?”
“What if it does? Are you just going to tell me “Sorry, Miguel, you were right” and that’s all? (Y/N), Dios mío, piensa. Gwen said the same thing but we couldn’t trust her with being objective because he’s her friend,”
“Wait, what do you mean couldn’t?” You asked. Miguel clenched his jaw and turned away, unable or unwilling to look at you.
“Miguel, please tell me you didn’t send her back. Not with how she left things back there,”
His absolute silence told you everything. Shaken, you took a step back.
“What is wrong with you?” You hissed the disappointed look in your eyes hurting like a sharp dagger to his chest.
“(Y/N), mi amor, I’m just trying to…”
“You’re such a hypocrite,” You angrily spat out, “You go around preaching about how important sticking to your stupid canon is and the delicate balance of the multiverse when you know damn well that what we’re doing goes against every single one of those things,”
“No, no, that’s very different,” Miguel disputed,
“How is it different?” You argued back, boldly moving closer to him wishing you were taller so you could face him, “I’m from another dimension, there is no way that we were supposed to meet from the beginning. You had your world, this world, and when you tried to live another life in a different one, an entire dimension was destroyed. I had my world, and for all I know maybe there was somebody there that I was supposed to meet but thankfully I ended up here first so I could meet you. But you know what? My universe is fine, yours is too and I swear I had never been happier in my entire life.”
“You’re right.” He muttered in deep thought.
“Yes, I am. And maybe…” You started to say, a relieved smile tugging at the edges of your mouth until he looked up and the expression in his eyes made your throat dry up.
“We’ve been messing with fire all this time. There is probably somebody you can be with without endangering your entire dimension. And this…this is the hand I was dealt and I should just accept it and live with it. You’re right. Maybe this was all a mistake from the beginning.”
“No. No, come on, you don’t mean that.” You shook your head in denial, lifting both your hands to cup his face in your hands, to bring him close like he had done the night you finally could let all the love you felt for him escape its confinement in your chest.
Miguel grabbed your hands before you could touch him and moved away from you before releasing them as he finally built up the courage to look you in the eye.
“Are you serious?” You asked, your voice quivering with anger as you felt tears begin to dwell in your eyes, “So that’s it? You’d rather sacrifice us than find a different way to solve this?”
“Well, what did you think was going to happen, (Y/N)? That this would go on forever and we’d keep pretending everything is fine and that you don’t have to wear a fucking machine on your wrist every time you come to see me because even the cells in your body know you were never supposed to be here?”  
“Oh, right, so you expect me to believe that you always knew this was going to be temporary? Then what was this? Something to take the edge off after a rough day until you decided it was time to stop fooling around and just be done with it?”
Deep inside, you knew what his response was going to be, but every inch of your heart silently pleaded for you to be wrong. To pull you into his arms and apologize for trying to send you away and promise that you’d get through this because you loved each other and that was all that mattered.
“I don’t know why you thought it was anything else,”
For a minute, you wondered if this was all actually happening. Maybe this was all a nightmare fueled by all the training simulations you’d gone over lately, and you’d wake up crying just to find Miguel asleep next to you, his wide back slowly rising and sinking with every calm breath he took. Your crying would wake him up and he’d furrow his eyebrows and ask what had happened.
“I had a nightmare, that’s all,” You’d say, wiping your tears off and trying to downplay it. But he knew better. He always knew better. He would pull you close and bury your head in his chest, placing a kiss on top of your head while warning you that he was the only one allowed to have nightmares because otherwise he’d have to start comforting you too and neither would get a full night of rest. And you would laugh softly as you drifted off, lulled by the warmth of his chest and his smell of sage lotion and cheap fabric softener.
But no. You were very much awake, and instead of comforting you with promises and reassurances, he was walking away from you after delivering the final blow to your heart.
Since he had his back turned to you, you felt free to let the repressed tears freely fall down your face as you helplessly watch him go until he disappeared around a corner. All of a sudden, you felt as if the walls of the headquarters had begun to close around you to asphyxiate you, and the sound of the returning Spider-People made you realize you didn’t want to be there for one more second.
Thanks to your watch, you were back “home” in a few seconds.
“Home”. Your empty apartment where you’d lived alone for years. Where he’d never set foot, and at least in that way it was free of his memory. Or so you thought until you looked over your shoulder at the ajar bathroom door. Inside, atop the porcelain sink, still rested the positive pregnancy test you’d left there before having to rush over to the headquarters to help with the latest anomaly.
That memory felt so distant now. As if it had happened years ago, in a different life. You suppose in a way, it did belong to another life. A life that was over now.
Numbly, you made your way toward the ragged sofa, collapsing on top of it as soon as you were close enough. It was only then that the full weight of the last day and a half sank in and, as you gently wrapped your arms around your stomach, you let the tears fall until your throat burned, the dusty cushions muffling your broken sobs.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard correctly, you did what?”
The seriousness of the situation was enough for Peter to fasten a small strap in Mayday’s baby carrier to make sure she won’t go anywhere for a few minutes as he waited for his friend’s platform to reach ground level. He couldn’t be chasing his toddler around and ripping Miguel a new one at the same time.
“I did what I had to do. It’s for her own good,”
“Right, because you’re such an arrogant…” He paused to carefully place his hands over Mayday’s tiny ears, “…such an arrogant dick that you think you know what’s best for everyone, including a fully grown, intelligent, woman like (Y/N)”
“Shit, Parker, do you think it was easy for me?” Miguel uttered, pinching the bridge of his nose before resting his face against the palm of his hand, “What I said about this being the hand I was dealt…I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with that. Hell, I don’t even know how I’m going to keep myself from showing up at her dimension to try and get her back here the first chance I get.”
“And why would you have to keep yourself from doing that?” Peter asked patiently. It sounded like a better alternative to “Miguel, I love you man but I swear you’ve got the emotional availability of a tree stump. Beats me how (Y/N) was able to get you to admit your feelings without prying your chest open with a jigsaw to see your pounding heart for herself.”
“She was right. We were never supposed to meet in the first place. Not like this. It’s not…”
“Miguel, I swear if I hear the word ‘canon’ even once in this conversation I’m going to drive my head through a wall,”
“Just because you don’t take anything seriously doesn’t mean everybody’s the same,” Miguel hissed back.
“That’s where you’re wrong. Last time I didn’t take something seriously, I ended up just like you will unless you get your priorities sorted out. Alone, and regretting not focusing on what was important,”
“This is important,” Miguel stubbornly argued.
“More important than what you had? Look at yourself. Just forty-eight hours ago you were as happy with (Y/N) as you’d been for the past eight months. And as happy as I’ve been with Mayday and my wife who, by the way, wouldn’t even be with me if it wasn’t for that kid you just called a mistake. And do you see my dimension going up in flames? Or yours? Or hers?”
Unable to find an argument against that, Miguel remained silent, his eyes fixed on an empty spot on the wall in front of him.
“Listen, I know you’re afraid. You don’t want her to get hurt, but if you love her as much as you claim to, then you’re taking the choice of a coward right now. And you can’t afford to be one, especially now.”
“Especially now?” Miguel inquired, turning to look at his friend who, much to his surprise, pressed his lips together as if he’d made a mistake and instead focused on getting Mayday’s hair out of her face.
“My point is; I know you well enough to know you worship that woman. And she thinks you’re pretty decent too. And I can tell you from experience that you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life if you let this come between you.”
Not knowing what else to add, Peter gently patted Miguel’s shoulder before leaving the room, hoping he’d given him enough to think about. Hopefully, enough to make him change his mind.
Meanwhile, Miguel hadn’t moved since Peter left the room, mulling his words over.
Two, particularly, had stuck with him for some reason.
Especially now.
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helluvaoutlaw · 4 months
Text
Gimme Shelter
((( Warning: The song Striker is singing in this post contains sensitive content. )))
Under the dim, smoky lights of the Sugar Buzzed club, Striker stood on the small, worn stage, gripping his electric guitar. Usually filled with vibrant neon hues, the club had dimmed its lights tonight to recreate a Wrathian country blues atmosphere. The crowd, a mix of regulars and curious newcomers, buzzed with anticipation. Striker's outfit was a blend of vintage charm and rugged style:
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Brown trousers, black suspenders, an old mauve-colored shirt with its sleeves rolled up, and a black vest that completed the ensemble. He was enjoying a cigar while arranging his guitar and giving time to the other musicians to prepare themselves.
The two Hellhound vocalists (recommended by Queen Bee herself), were more than excited to perform with him, given the two girls were giggling and whispering to each other, probably commenting his physique.
He adjusted the microphone stand, its metal frame barely reflecting the subdued glow. The club’s atmosphere was thick with the scent of spilled drinks and the low hum of conversation.
He drew one last smoke from the cigar, before putting it out in a metal ashtray.
The cowboy nodded at the rest of the group, before starting to play.
Striker's fingers danced across the guitar strings, coaxing out a raw, soulful riff that immediately quieted the crowd.
"Ooooh, a storm is threat'ning
Myyy very life today
If I don't get some shelter,
Ooh yeah, I'm gonna fade away...
Waaar, children,
it's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
Waaar, children, it's just a shot away
It's just a shot away."
His voice, deep and gritty, cut through the room as he began to sing a blues rock tune, each word dripping with emotion and authenticity.
"Ooooh, see the fire is sweepin'
Myyy very street today
Buuurns like a red coal carpet,
Mad bull lost its way...
Waaar, children, it's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
Waaar, children, it's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away..."
The guitar came alive, electrifying the room. Striker's skills were evident in every note, his fingers moving with precision and passion.
"Look out!
Raaaape, murder!
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
Raaaape, murder!
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
Raaaape, murder!
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away..."
The crowd swayed and nodded, some with eyes closed, lost in the music. The rhythm section backed him with a steady, driving beat that resonated in the chest of every listener.
The vocalists were doing a splendid job, enhancing the feeling of the song with their honeyed voices.
"Ooooh the floods is threat'ning
Myyy very life today
Gimme, gimme shelter!
Or I'm gonna fade away..."
Striker’s performance was a blend of raw talent and heartfelt emotion, the kind that left an indelible mark on everyone present.
True, the song wasn't exactly a cheerful one, but he didn't care. They came to feel the true Wrathian spirit tonight, which was anything but sweet and joyful.
It was crude, merciless and painful, delivering the harsh truth of life.
"Waaar, children, it's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
I tell you love, sister,
it's just a kiss away
It's just a kiss away
It's just a kiss away
It's just a kiss away
It's just a kiss away
Kiss away, kiss away..."
His voice rose and fell, his eyes closed as he sang every lyric with ardor, his mind miles away.
As the final notes echoed through the club, the audience erupted into applause, the sound filling the small space with a wave of appreciation.
Striker grinned, nodded, and thanked the public, letting the band to take care of providing ambience music as he left the stage to get a drink.
He would've sang again a bit later, but for now he just wanted to enjoy a glass of bourbon.
(((Song: )))
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(((Art belongs to: )))
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lovinglokilaufeyson · 5 months
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The Devil You Know - A.A.
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Pairings: Spawn!Astarion x Fem!Reader (Mephistopheles Tiefling! Raphael’s Daughter)
Warnings: Abandonment by parent, implied loss of parent, BG3 Spoilers (set sometime in Act 2), Angst, Conflict/Yelling/Disagreement between Tav & Astarion, Past Trauma, Not Proofread
Wordcount: 1,364
Summary: You are Raphael’s daughter, who he disowned for her good nature. You are abducted from Baldur’s Gate and receive a tadpole in your head. You have bonded with Astarion, but you are not about to let him ask your father for help.
A/N: Requested by anon! I loved loved loved this prompt so so so much God! Thank you for requesting this, I loved writing it! Also, I did some research as to what race Tav would end up being. From what I understand, if Raphael (Cambion) had a child with a human, it would be either a Tiefling or a Cambion?? (Still really muddy for me) Therefore, Tav/Reader is a Tiefling for the sake of this story, and to make the fact that she is “good” more realistic. There will definitely be a part two of this (with substantial fluff, maybe even smut).
It had been years since you had spoken to your father. He was on the verge of abandoning you when your mother gave birth to you, a Tiefling. Raphael would have preferred you to be a Cambion, as he was. You still had similar appearance like he flourished, but you showed an innocence that juxtaposed his own behaviors. He tolerated your presence for a while, but the time came when he was unable to process you frolicking through fields of flowers, basking in the sunshine, the pure happiness that radiated from you. He tried to destroy everything you loved: the flowers, the light. And yet, you were still happy.
He hated it.
He dropped you off at the orphanage at once, you were maturing, but not fast enough for him. That, and he practically despised you. Perhaps, for what Raphael himself lacked. However, who ever claimed that devils were self-aware was definitely a devil themselves.
You spent much of your childhood wondering what you did to deserve to be dropped off at the orphanage that day. The truth was you didn’t. You didn’t deserve to be abandoned by your father. You were just too dissimilar, and that was something Raphael couldn’t handle. You spent a bit of your upbringing attempting to enhance your magical skills, your father had rescinded the vast majority of your abilities upon plopping you at the door of the orphanage with no explanation. However, you were able to regain a lot through your studies in Candlekeep. You were a bookworm, and you loved learning, not only that but you had an innate proficiency with arcana. You became well-versed in magic, but you didn’t know that your adventures had yet to begin.
You had a tadpole placed in your head, and suddenly you felt a kind of freedom you hadn’t felt previously. Then, you were able to escape, with the help of your Githyanki “friend” (you had grown closer over time, she could tolerate you now) Lae’zel. You recruited Shadowheart, Astarion, and Gale along the way. Later on, you met Wyll and Karlach. Karlach was most similar to yourself, being a Zariel Tiefling. Her skin was darker than yours, warmer, but if a stranger met you two they would have thought you sisters.
One person that you didn’t think you would bond with was Astarion. Astarion had his walls up very high from the very beginning, but something within you tore them down. Maybe it was your giddiness, or your general inexperience, but he felt the need to protect you, in a sense. Sure, you had fucked up in battle more times than they all could count, but you tried your hardest, anytime you misfired a spell you would study it over and over again with Gale until you could do it right 100% of the time.
You were perplexed on how you bonded more with Astarion than Gale, but the further you dug with Astarion the more you wanted to know. You had slept together a few times; little did you know that Astarion mostly pursued you for his own gain. He figured that if he got on the good side of the fearless, well-liked leader, she and the rest of the party wouldn’t turn on him. What Astarion didn’t realize was that he didn’t have to sleep with you to get on your good side. He just simply had to be him. You enjoyed his sass, his quips, the bantering that he tried to pursue with you. It never lasted long, which invigorated him, you were simply too easy going. A lover, rather than a fighter.
You were like a ray of sunshine. If he could, Astarion would douse himself in your rays every moment. Similarly to his newfound love for basking in the sun, you were intoxicating to him. Astarion hadn’t met many people who glowed as you did. Ironically, your contrasted, dark correspondent, your father, Raphael, had been following you and your crew around for the past few weeks. Of course, given the whole tadpole situation, the group reeked of desperation. And devils loved desperation. Desperation would lead to deals.
You were adamant that that would not be occurring.
It became evident, one night, that Astarion would be pushing you on that boundary. Astarion’s former master, Cazador,  had written a piece of infernal text on his back. You didn’t think much of it until Astarion became fixated on it one night. You could tell him what it said, but that would mean releasing the information that you were indeed Raphael’s daughter to the rest of the party, which you would have preferred not to do.
This, in itself, was a big step for Astarion. Talking about his past, his troubles, all of it. He felt comfortable around you, perhaps partially because you had shared so little with him regarding your past. You analyzed the scars on his back, running your fingertips over them as you did. “So, darling?” He inquired, pondering if you had an answer for him.
“I can tell you its written in infernal” you spoke simply, only giving him a glimpse into the answer he truly wanted. You bent down on the ground, drawing it on the sand for him, “here.” “I’ve never seen it before” Astarion spoke, and you nodded. “Infernal, you say?” He questioned again, as if an idea was coming to mind. You gestured in approval yet again.
“Darling, thank you. I believe we need to seek out Raphael, that devil who has been creeping on us the past few weeks. I bet he could tell us the meaning of the scars Cazador left on me.”
“Astarion, you can’t possibly be serious. Raphael is a devil. Devils always require a deal, and there is always a catch. You can’t pay that price.” You argued. You had wanted to do something nice for Astarion, given the horrific situation, but you knew one thing for sure. You would not be approaching your father for anything, not even over your own dead body.
“Darling, please. I’m not stupid. I need to know what these marks on me say, and Raphael can do that for me. We can adjust the pricing, I’m sure. You’re just inexperienced.” He quipped, and you gasped at his remark.
“We are not talking to Raphael, and that is final, Astarion.” You were worked up now, Astarion could see it. Gods, even the owlbear across camp half asleep could see it.
“It’s not your decision to make, Tav. It’s mine. If I want to make a deal with the devil, so be it. You can stay out of it.” From across camp, you could hear both Wyll and Karlach trying to intervene and talk some sense into Astarion. He wouldn’t take it anymore. He was his own person, and he could make his own decisions outside of what Cazador – or anyone else – decided for him. You looked at Astarion with glistening eyes, on the verge of tears. He knew he had hurt you, as well as hurt his position with you. But part of him didn’t care anymore about that.
“You’re just too naïve” he spat, and with that, a Barbarian-like rage emanated from you, your typical glow radiated into a powerful force that was nearly too much for Astarion. Your eyes were glowing most prominently, your hands formed into tight fists, and your teeth gnawed against one another. “You want to know what the damned scars say, Astarion?! Do you!?” Astarion, for the first time in weeks, was mildly scared for his life.
He nodded ever so gently, careful not to push you further. “It’s a contract. One between Cazador and Mephistopheles. The rite of profane ascension to a fate similar to godhood, but for vampires. He needs seven thousand souls, and you’re one of them.” Astarion had to bite back a chuckle. You had to be kidding him, right? This was a joke. Right?
“I’m dead fucking serious Astarion.” Your eyebrows were shifted downward, reciprocating your tone of voice.
“How would you know?” He quipped, anxious to break the pattern of seriousness and – perhaps lies that you were spreading. He didn’t want it to be true.
“I’m Raphael’s daughter."
Part Two is now out! Read it here.
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to-be-a-dreamer · 25 days
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I do acknowledge that the Marvel writers were, to a certain extent, trapped in production hell when it came to adapting Clint Barton into the MCU and I do appreciate the glimpses of his comic personality that they managed to sneak into the MCU. Some of my favorites include but are not limited to:
“Look the city is-is flying. The city is flying. We’re fighting an army of robots. And I have a bow and arrow. None of this makes sense”
When faced with a completely unknown opponent who’s clearly some kind of enhanced the middle of a fight: “We haven’t met yet, I’m Clint.”
“Nobody would know. Nobody. Last I saw him an Ultron was sitting on him. Yeah I miss him already that quick little bastard.”
“Unfortunately, he’s still Barton” “Oh that’s terrible” Because he’s a little SHIT
“You’re no match for him Cap.” “Thanks Barton”
Hits a bullseye on the dart board half a centimeter from Tony’s face with absolutely no warning just because he can
In THE maximum security prison getting lectured by Tony Stark: “Blah blah blah…”
Actively lying on the floor after getting his shit rocked by a child: “Yeah you better run.”
Smugly, towards the aforementioned child: “What? You didn’t see that coming?”
Doesn’t tell his teammates that he’s taking them to his secret farmhouse in the middle of nowhere where he has a secret family. Also does not tell his wife that he’s bringing the entire Avengers lineup to her house. Because he’s a dramatic bitch with abysmal communication skills.
Does a stupid little dramatic flourish just to shoot an arrow into the fucking wall in front of literally no one but Wanda. Just for funsies.
Is played by Jeremy Renner, who I can’t Google without learning about his latest life-threatening injury. On brand.
Turns his hearing aids off at a bad musical
“Good thing they call you HawkEYE and not HawkEAR” “Hahaha. Block. Delete.” (100% did not block and delete)
Casually boards the subway after a whole entire car chase
“And the Challenger gets wrecked anyway!”
“How’s my apartment?” “…crispy”
“Sorry Santa!”
“You rely too much on technology” “Well my weapon of choice is a stick and a string”
“I’ve been taking karate since I was five” “Oh so last year?”
“Oh hey… I know you” Casually hands over the most powerful weapon in the universe.
To an actual literal chipmunk after he just jumped out the window of a skyscraper and landed in the Time Square Christmas tree “…hey”
“Clint where are you?” “I’m in the tree!” “What? Which tree?” “THE three!”
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pigfacedbitch · 1 year
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Dating Clovis
summary : general headcanons of dating the son of Hypnos.
word count : 0.5k
type : headcanons
pairing/s involved : Clovis x Reader
warning/s : threatening someone (?), otherwise it's just fluff. 😘
here is my masterlist!
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Note : I love me some sleepy boi😍 I am slightly obssesed with him since he was introduced in The Lost Hero, an underrated character if you ask me.
It's always funny to see the new campers' reactions when they hear that Clovis is dating you.
"Really? (Y/N) and Clovis? But she's so energetic and he's...not."
Honestly, many people feel bad for you because Clovis is not an ideal boyfriend. He's not exactly... what's the word? Present.
You're singing along by the campfire? He's sleeping on a log nearby. You're training to enhance your fighting skills? He's drooling all over shields. You're having a meeting with the other counsilors? He's dozing off beside you.
Not to mention, THIS BOY MANAGES TO FALL ASLEEP IN THE WORST OF SITUATIONS.
"(Y/N)! Wake your boyfriend up, the empousai almost killed him!"
"I swear to the gods, love! We are in the middle of a battle!"
He's a heavy sleeper, deal with it.
However, he tries to stay awake a little longer for your sake. Do the others take advantage of that? Yes. 😂
"Percy, what do you need my help with?"
"Actually (Y/N), we need Clovis' help."
"You need me to keep him awake again, is that it?"
"Well, yes-"
"Let my boyfriend sleep, Jackson."
The best method to keep him awake is by kissing his chubby cheeks, squeezing him in your hold, or ruffling that tangled, blonde hair.
You will hear whines of complain but once you stop, he will rub his head against you and ask you to continue. He's like a cat.
Naps together is a must! Clovis will drag you to Cabin 15 if he has to, you can't refuse. Not that you will.
Also provides you with the fluffiest of pillows, softest of blankets, and the most delicious milk you ever tasted (not that type of milk, you dirty minded-👁️👄👁️)
He may not take you on a date the normal way but he will use his ability to manipulate dreams— joining yours and his.
There, you can be wherever you want to. At the top of Eiffel Tower, swimming in the sunken Titanic ship, or performing with your favorite artist on a stage.
Anything you want, Clovis will make it happen. It's his way of making up to you, I suppose.
He always mutters your name in his sleep with a dreamy smile on his face. This often gets him teased by his siblings, or anyone else who witnesses it happen.
"Seriously (Y/N), I heard him moan your name!"
"Leo, stop it."
"It's true, it was a very good dream."
"Clovis!"
I don't think he ever gets assigned to any quests but you do. He's still asleep whenever you say goodbye to him but expect that he'll visit you in your dreams.
He'll ask how you're day went, updates with what's going on in Camp Half-Blood, spilling the usual tea; that kind of stuff. I assume time stops in dream land so you and Clovis have all the time in the world.
He will also visit dreams of the people you're on a quest with, warning them that if something happens to you they will never wake up again. This boy can be dark, don't test him.
You still wonder why all of them are so overprotective over you.
Hypnos seems to approve of your relationship because ever since you started dating his son, you never had trouble falling asleep again.
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alwayscorvus · 6 months
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"Slow Burn" - Blade as your boyfriend
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"Slow Burn" - Blade as your boyfriend
Blade x malereader, fluff, soulmate au; Warning! reluctant, cold Blade at first - "slow burn"
Part 2;
Meeting each other:
It's not that Blade didn't believe in soulmates. He did.
What's more, he dreamed of meeting one.
But it lasted only for a little while.
When he still was a little naive boy.
Boy who hoped to find someone that could keep him company when he was lonely. Someone who would take care of him. Someone to whom he could give all his love to and by whom he would feel appreciated.
Those days, however, are gone.
Blade quickly realized that life wasn't as cheerful as they say.
He grew up.
All wounds he had gained made him understand that he could only count on himself. Only he could protect himself.
And he only trusted himself.
Besides, after what he had done... He didn't deserve love.
At least that's what he thought.
So he didn't seek for a soulmate.
But soulmate found him on its own way.
And Blade chose to believe that all this wasn't Elio's plan at all.
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When Blade met you for the first time. His heart stopped for a second.
For a good minute he couldn't take his eyes off you.
Your reaction wasn't any better.
Something hidden deep in Blade took control of him.
That legendary power, destiny...
Everything around him seemed to have disappeared. Sounds from the outside, excited voices of Kafka and Silver.
Background blurred and the only clear thing in his field of view was... you.
However, Blade was quick to regain his senses. He straightened up, put a serious expression and decided to act cold.
He ignored your presence and walked past you with a swift, energetic move.
Seeing this reaction you bluntly understood his message.
And you chose to act the same way. Without forcing your presence.
However, everything changed when it turned out that your company enhanced Blade's skills, in a mutual manner.
Together you were an unstoppable duo.
It was a common thing for soulmates. To become stronger in each other's presence. But Blade felt that only after your first mission.
After first encounter, every separation made both soulmates weaker. Alone, a person couldn't reach they 100% potential.
That's why Blade decided to use you to become better. To be able to kill more.
He would never let you leave.
And, by the way... you were not that bad kind of a warrior yourself.
Don't get him wrong. Blade "DIDN'T NEED" you. But the fact that someone watched his back and let him avoid a few new wounds, wasn't that bad either.
Blade liked to self-improve himself in his free time.
Since he met you he found a new way to do that. He started reading about soulmate's bond.
By this, he learned that touch could strengthened the bond. And the stronger the bond was, the stronger attacks, abilities and talents were.
Perhaps it wasn't an unexpected news. But for Blade, who had never felt a care, never felt a warmth of another person...
It wasn't anything normal.
So Blade began to seek a contact with you. Talking seemed too tiring. And it didn't seem that effective either. Also, Blade didn't want to get to know you. He wasn't interested in what you like and what you don't. It all seemed so trivial and unnecessary for him.
He didn't care what you were like. Althouht not for long.
Blade had no idea how should he get it done. That's why he threw an open book in your direction and pointed a correct line with his finger.
He looked at you with a stiff, unfriendly face, crossing his arms on his chest.
You did what he told you to do. Because Blade couldn't tolerate any objections.
It started with holding his hand.
But Blade felt so awkward with it... Like some stupid tenager.
And it was all because he was an adult now! Not because he felt embarassed... Right?!
So he quickly snatched his hand out of your grasp and stood up rapidly.
He suggested something else. Something in what he didn't have to look at you.
You started laying down together. Blade with his back to you. And you embracing him.
You didn't see this as the best way to get to know each other. You both had definitely skipped a few steps.
But seeing Blade's piercing face earlier, you didn't want to start a quarrel. And you also wanted to seize an opportunity. Maybe that would really let you to get closer to him. After all, you were soulmates. You were destined for each other. You were meant to spend the rest of your lives with each other-
And it's not that in this world soulmates always ended up together. Sometimes they stayed just as a friends. Sometimes they parted ways. They found someone else, despite their inner voice and loved each other very deeply. And sometimes they just didn't meet at all.
Yet you really had no choice. First of all, you began to tie your future with working as Stellaron Hunter. Secondly... Blade really didn't look like someone who would let you go. Not that you really minded that. At least you felt appreciated. And deep inside, you felt that Blade wasn't as bad as he tried to pretend.
At first Blade was stiff.
Very much. As a board.
At first you yourself felt a little uncomfortable too. But later you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing. He was adorable and funny at the same time. But it was, after all, his first time.
At some point, after many attempts, you started to get used to it. And Blade stopped being so stiff.
You, however, couldn't stand this silence. So you took the lead and started talking about yourself. After all, you didn't count on getting anything out of Blade.
Blade wished so fricking bad for you to shut up. Your warm breath tickled his ear and caused some weird twisting in his stomach.
However, he couldn't tell you to stop. After all, he didn't want to show you how much he blushed at that time. What an effect you had on him.
At first he tried not to listen to you. And he couldn't even focus on your speech, to be honest.
At some point, however, he began to gather informations about you. Eventually he realized that since he was lying still anyway, he could listen to you and maybe collect some valuable knowledge. But obviously, he didn't let it show.
But after weeks, he himself started to join your conversation. First with a few snarky comments. Then, with full sentences, Blade began to add something about himself.
He started to treasure every thing that he knew about you. What's more. He was proud that he knew so much of you. He loved to rub it in Silver's face.
After a year together you really started to matter to him.
Habits/Facts:
You were always there for him. Both, in little and in big things. You took care of him when he was sick. When he was busy, you brought small things that he needed like book or tissue, or food for example. But you also saved his life more than once. You cared, you helped him. He really meant something to you.
And you never left him. Even when he was cruel to you. When he ordered, shouted for you to leave.
After a few years, Blade got used to your presence. Not only that. He actually fell in love.
Finally he mattered to someone. And it wasn't just anyone. It was you. The most wonderful person he ever met.
He was the one who asked you to become a couple. Or rather, he decided for you two and just let you know. Typically, in his style.
One afternoon, when he had had enough of Kafka's teasting. He finally broke down and said that "you are together". This effectively shut her mouth while you looked at him with your eyes wide open.
As Blade claimed, putting a label on your relationship was also very beneficial. From then on, you were able to live in a shared bedroom. Yours, because it was more cozy according to Blade.
Of course, he didn't dare tell you that.
Besides, Blade often doesn't tell you many things. Especially if it involves his feelings. Although he doesn't look like it, he is extremely shy in these matters.
He also likes to decide by himself. He just tells you what the plan is and immediately gets into action. Without even waiting for your answer.
You got used to it. At least he keeps you updated. So it could be worse.
Well, and when something really bothers you. And you say it in a firm voice, Blade will stop right away.
Currently you are the only one who can cool him down and talk some sense into him. This is especially helpful on a missions.
When you finally told him that you love him and he felt a true sincerity in it, he burst into tears. For the first time since joining Stellaron Hunters. He lost, overwhelmed with emotions.
It took him years to fully trust you. And say it back.
But when he did... oh boy. You'll never forget it. Especially since Blade isn't eager to show too much affection.
His favorite form of relaxation is to lay his head on your exposed chest and listen to your heartbeat as you lie on your bed together. He feels calm and safe then. He has the assurance that you are alive and that you are really here. That someone really cares about him. And that it isn't just an illusion.
This also relates to your mornings: warm rays of the sun caress his bare shoulders. You affectionately brush through his hair. He then purrs quietly with approval.
But only for a moment.
He quickly returns to listening to the sounds of your heart.
Although Blade pretends otherwise he can be really insecure. Especially when it comes to his scars, which he has plenty of due to the battles he took.
He waited a long time before showing you his body. When he finally did, he couldn't look you in the eye. And you, seeing his back, froze. Blade heard you holding your breath. He started to panic and began to regret his decisions. As soon as you saw him trembling, you immediately got up from the bed, ran over to him. You started to kiss every single one, even the smallest wounds.
He won't admit it but he cares deeply about your approval. And every compliment you say sticks in his head.
When he is jealous he won't tell you directly but will easily let you feel it. Blade will avoid you. And he will start walking faster when you try to reach him. When you finally catch up to him, he'll pretend he doesn't hear you and that he has something more important to do.
Tell him that he is the only one that matters to you. And that in your eyes there is no one better than him. He will hesitantly forgive you and let you lock him in a tight hug. But while still keeping a poker face.
You must reassure him that he is important to you and remind him of his worth. He, unfortunately, often forgets about that and it leads him to a horrible conditions.
If u want to make him blush don't think about touching him in public or anything like that. He doesn't care. At least he acts like its not a big deal. You are a couple. You did it plenty of times. Besides, any work partner can grab his companion's arm or hand.
Instead, make some kind gesture with which you show him that you care about him. For example, make him breakfast in bed and his cheeks will immediately cover in a big reddish blush. He won't acknowledge you with even a single word. But will instantly take the tray from you.
Fights... They are a big part of your daily life. Pumped up Blade always runs ahead while you watch his back.
However, Blade doesn't forget about your presence and after each defeated opponent, he searches you with his eyes and makes sure you're okay.
In theory, he could rely on your soulmate's bond. And wait for a "stab" in his heart which would tell him that something is wrong with you. But he couldn't stand by and let himself lose the only important person in his life.
After a long tiring struggle, you are blessed with his horse voice. You aren't sure if you have heard anything more relaxing in your life.
Hearing the meaning of red spider lilies* that so often surrounded him, you decided to replace them with something else. Something he could love.
You've made a habit of bringing him bouquets of red roses. And he developed the habit of drying them. At some point he collected so many that he didn't know what to do with them anymore. Now Blade separates some of them into petals. Which he places in a notebook. Transforms into his favorite teas. Or perfumes, which he uses on himself. Thanks to that, even in your absence, he can feel your presence.
Let's say it's over for today because translating it will be very painful for me anyway...
*Red spider lilies are associated with death, sad memories, last goodbyes, especially to loved ones and for this reason, they aren't given as gifts.
While red roses symbolize a true love🥀
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nanowrimo · 8 months
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A Message from the NaNoWriMo Board of Directors
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Dear NaNoWriMo Community Members,
Thank you for reaching out to us with your inquiries about the forums, your support, offers to volunteer, and your legitimate concerns.
Our inbox has been flooded, and we appreciate all of the thoughtful responses from participants and volunteers who genuinely care about NaNoWriMo, our fellow writers, and the community as we do. It is impossible to respond to each message individually, but we wanted to let you all know we are working with purpose and sincerity.
Please see below the breakdown of the work that has been done since we last shared an update with the community. Our intention is to keep you abreast of all we are doing to make NaNoWriMo a better, safer, place:
We’ve overseen a full-scale review of business practices led by former Board Member, Kilby Blades, who has stepped in to assist the organization on an interim basis.  
We’ve begun to implement new procedures around community safety, including:
Full revision and legal review of our employee handbook and codes of conduct.
Full revision and legal review of our Municipal Liaison(ML) agreement.
Development of a formal contract agreement for all (non-ML) Volunteers.
Development of a stricter vetting process for all volunteers (which includes identity verification and background checks, wherever necessary).
Licensing of a digital constituent management system that will enhance volunteer management capabilities.
Comprehensive background checks for all current employees.
Checks and balances to ensure that standards of conduct and ethics are adhered to (e.g., better leadership training, volunteer training, tech mechanisms, and active oversight).
We’ve made staffing changes and revised our staffing plan.
We have rescoped certain roles and initiated some staffing changes. (However, certain employees who left the organization voluntarily are in pursuit of their next opportunities.)
We believe that learning from this moment through addressing skill gaps in the organization is healthy and we will go through a hiring process to fill necessary gaps in open roles.
We’ve listened to other community feedback and are still in listening mode.
We’ve disabled the mechanism on the YWP website that allows users to self-identify as educators for the purpose of creating classrooms, and we are researching mechanisms that will allow us to verify adults as educators.
We’ve revised our technology roadmap to address usability issues and are hoping to introduce new features in 2024.
We are midway through a deep dive on forums and forum moderation; this has included benchmarking with other organizations with similar challenges.
In February, we will hold focus groups for continuing MLs. We are also thinking through the logistics of Town Hall meetings and other gatherings.
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cobaltperun · 7 months
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Woe out the Storm (6) - Goo Goo Muck
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Wednesday Addams x female Reader
Summary: It took some time, but eventually you came to realize only Wednesday Addams could look at the raging storm of chaos and destruction and make a home out of it. Only she could listen to the cacophony of the roaring thunder and hear a melody.
Story warnings: Wednesday Addams, violence, slow burn
Story Masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part
Word count: 6.6k
-Yeah, I’ll get you baby, with a little luck, ‘cause I’m a teenage tiger and a Goo Goo Muck-
This was not going to end well.
There was no way this was going to end well. What was Wednesday thinking?
So, you did what any reasonable raiju with your skills would do. You took out your, formerly Wednesday's, knife. "Where did you even get that board?" you asked as you watched Wednesday pin rather gruesome photos and other papers to it. Tierra Rica played for what felt like the third time. That was something you learned about Wednesday. She preferred repetition, whether it was her schedule, strict writing time, or playing the same song at least several times.
She looked back and just slightly raised an eyebrow, as if silently asking you if you were seriously asking her that. Yeah, that was probably an unnecessary question now that you thought about it. It was also kind of worrying that you were wondering how she got that board instead of all those photos... Perhaps you were too used to Wednesday Addams being Wednesday Addams.
Enid on the other hand... You weren't entirely sure she could stomach what was in the photos. Or that she was in the mood to even try to understand the need for this approach.
Speaking of said werewolf, she just entered your room. Ever since Ajax stood her up her entire demeanor lost some of her bouncy energy and it took a lot of pleading from her to stop you and Wednesday from taking revenge on the gorgon. She was so down you didn't even mention Wednesday agreeing to go to the Rave'N with you.
"Hey, Y/N, Wednesday," she stopped for a moment, taking in the sight of you and Wednesday. Seeing Wednesday with the board and papers wasn't much of a surprise. Neither was seeing you hunched forward and sitting on your chair. No, it was the fact that your chair was on Wednesday's part of the room, the fact that you were sitting a few feet behind Wednesday, watching whatever she was pinning to the board. And there was a knife in your hand, coincidentally, it was the knife Wednesday threw at you. Not that Enid knew that part, but she did know the knife belonged to Wednesday. So, she was probably very confused, or she was officially deciding that something was going on between you and Wednesday.
You could see cogs turning in Enid's head. "Am I interrupting you?" she asked, now carefully observing Wednesday for any reaction that might seem out of the ordinary.
"No," but Wednesday was so focused on her task you doubted she even noticed Enid's reaction. Frankly, you thought Wednesday's laser focus was admirable.
Admirable. Not adorable.
She'd probably actually smother you in your sleep if you ever used that word to describe her.
"Wednesday is just pinning photos of the monster's victims so she can get inside its head," you said causing Enid's jaw to drop slightly.
Enid covered her mouth in shock. "The actual photos?" she gulped, her claws coming out instinctively.
She was taking it even worse than you thought she would, so you jumped to your feet and rushed toward her. On foot, since lightning would likely startle her.
The damage was already done. "I don't see how any other photos would help," Wednesday, still focused on her task, either ignored or didn't notice the evident panic in Enid's voice.
Your eyes widened when you saw Enid falling to the side and in a lightning-enhanced jump, you managed to reach her and catch her before she could fall to the floor. "Wednesday," you sighed, exasperated by her lack of consideration.
For the first time since she began pinning the files and photos, Wednesday took her eyes off the evidence for more than three seconds and glanced at you and Enid in your arms. Her eyes followed you as you lifted the werewolf up and carried her to her bed. "Perhaps you could zap her awake?"
You nearly dropped Enid as you stumbled a bit at the suggestion. You opened your mouth several times, honestly not even sure how to respond to that idea. You gently lowered Enid onto her bed and turned back to Wednesday. "No?" you eventually settled for an incredulous response as you just looked Wednesday in the eyes.
Wednesday kept staring into your eyes, refusing to be the first one to look away, or even blink. And you weren't backing down either, even if you did have to blink. "Pity. Thing, fetch the smelling salts," she ordered, and the hand was on his way to wherever Wednesday kept those. Why did she even have those readily available?
You looked away, but only so you could follow Thing with your eyes. He was clutching the smelling salts in question between his middle and ring finger and his palm while running toward you on the remaining three fingers. You took a few steps forward and leaned down, letting him climb onto your palm. With a thankful smile on your face, you took the smelling salts and proceeded to wake Enid up with them.
It took a bit, but she regained consciousness and looked around, still a bit disoriented. "Y/N?" she sounded a bit confused.
"Welcome back," you grinned and stepped back as you placed Thing on your shoulder and the smelling salts in your pocket.
"I had this nightmare. Something about Wednesday bringing photos of the monster's victims to our room," she groaned and rubbed her eyes.
"Uh," you glanced back at Wednesday, her back was turned to you, but you could swear you noticed a bit of extra stiffness in her posture. If that was even possible.
"What?" Enid demanded, looking at you and then following your line of sight. "It wasn't a dream. Yeah. Sure. That might as well happen," Enid nodded as she sat up. She stood up and went right for the cause of the newest room decorations. "You know, when I suggested giving your part of the room a make-over, I did not have Ted Bundy's Pinterest in mind."
Wednesday turned around to look at her. "Still not as creepy as your stuffed unicorn collection," she turned back to the board once again.
"Is this why she and Thing snuck out last night?" Enid asked you when you walked over to her, ready to catch her if needed.
"Yup. To the county morgue actually," you caught her up to speed with Wednesday's recent adventure to the best of your abilities.
Enid's face showed clear disgust at the mere thought of Wednesday's activities. "Okay, there are so many levels of ew in this whole situation I don't even know where to begin."
"I need to get inside its head. Discover any patterns or anomalies," Wednesday turned toward you and Enid. "I've already made a big discovery," she began taking the photos off the board. "Turns out, all of the monster's victims have had body parts surgically removed," she began handing the photos to you. "The first one a kidney, the second a finger,"
Enid paled as she saw the photos up close. "Wednesday, I don't... really feel..." she was going to pass out again any moment now.
"Third a gallblader," Wednesday, however, went back to the board for the final photo. "And the bearded man from the meeting house, two toes," she placed the last photo on top of the other three in your hands and looked at both you and Enid. "Do you understand what this means? These murders aren't mindless," she went back to the board. "He's collecting trophies like a seasoned serial killer. It's quite impressive, actually."
And Enid passed out.
You managed to catch her once again and sighed. Wednesday turned around, looking at Enid, and clearly not impressed this happened again. Thing, who in the meantime climbed back onto the board just shrugged when she glanced back at him. You offered the photos back to Wednesday and lifted Enid up once again. "Hold that thought for a minute," you said and carried Enid back to her bed. Luckily you didn't put the smelling salts back so waking Enid up wasn't too difficult.
"I'm just going to ignore you two," she resigned to the current circumstances. At least for now. "I'll go to sleep and by the time I wake up that won't be here."
You couldn't help but grin at that as you tucked her in and made sure she was comfortable. You moved back from the bed to see Wednesday watching you like a hawk, she was probably impatient since you did take more than a minute to get back to her. "So," instead of sitting back down on the chair behind Wednesday you stopped right in front of Wednesday. A more logical part of your brain told you you were too close, that you were in her personal space, but you couldn't back down, not unless you managed to catch any hints of Wednesday being uncomfortable with the closeness. Well, you could back away, but that might make Wednesday think you were uncomfortable with her instead. Things were so complicated with this girl… "Body parts were surgically removed, right?"
She nodded, her eyes never looking away from your own.
"That monster looked too, I dunno, clumsy, to remove anything surgically," you muttered, looking away from her and looking at the photos pinned to the board over her shoulder. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Wednesday turning around on the spot.
"The monster's hands didn't look like they could hold a saw, or make cuts as precise as these," Wednesday pointed out, her focus once again shifting to the case.
"A lot of outcasts can change shape in some way. Maybe it's a human," you guessed, the body parts that were removed... well, you weren't exactly knowledgeable about all that, but you figured at least some of them required a good understanding of human anatomy.
"That would explain why it wasn't caught," Wednesday nodded, glancing back at you. "Do you know any outcast group that can look like that?"
You thought about it. You've been thinking about it ever since you saw that monster. It definitely wasn't a werewolf or a raiju, but other than that you were stuck. "I really don't have any idea. It's not a werewolf, it's not a raiju, it's some beast, but that's as far as my knowledge goes," which really didn't help either of you. "Do you think it works alone?"
That got Wednesday thinking. "I haven't considered that possibility," she admitted and glanced at Enid. "I should move this somewhere else?"
Your heart skipped a beat at that. She really did care, somewhere deep down. "I'd be really thankful if you did. So would Enid. I'd also rather not carry her that often," you admitted with a sheepish grin on your face. "You can keep it in my shed?" you offered.
Wednesday shook her head slightly. "Too many electric devices. I'll find another place for it," she declined your offer. She did have an aversion to technology, and you loved tinkering with it, the more reliant on electricity it was, the better. Still, you understood why she didn't want to spend time there. She didn't even consider your club because of that, even if it would mean not having to deal with anyone else. Well, Eugene’s club was a good fit as well for her.
You didn't say you could clear some of the shed out if she couldn't find any other place for her board. "Got it," you muttered, finally stepping away from her.
~X~
Wednesday's day was not going as planned. In fact, it was going wrong in every way possible. The scratches on Xavier's neck made her suspicious, so she followed him. That part was fine. Discovering that his art depicted the monster was great. Now she had a suspect in her investigation, and she was satisfied with the progress she made.
She supposed she used up all her luck for the day. The next thing she knew, she was asking Xavier to the dance as an act of self-preservation. Usually, she would feel good about getting up close and personal with a potential serial killer, but there was an unpleasant feeling of unease that followed. She'd usually enjoy it, but somehow that unease being connected to you made it less enjoyable. She was yet to tell you to find someone else to go to the dance with. She wasn't entirely sure how to, either, because you looked ridiculously happy when she agreed to accompany you to the dance.
It wasn’t that she had anything against ruining someone’s happiness, in fact she often enjoyed doing so, but doing it to you didn’t feel exciting. She had no reason to do it to you.
So, that's why she was standing right behind the tape dividing her and Enid's part of the room. Perhaps Enid, due to knowing you much longer than Wednesday, could offer a way to tell you. That wasn't her usual blunt approach. Thing already made sure to talk her out of telling you like that.
"I am going to Rave'N with Xavier," she opened with that, but before she could continue and explain her issue Enid was on her feet and, in a way that was sickeningly filled with excitement, rushed toward Wednesday.
She even squealed. "Oh my God! Wednesday Addams is going to the Rave'N?! My whole world is tilted!" she was missing the point, unaware that the thing she was getting excited about was the cause of an issue Wednesday needed to solve.
"That's not-" Wednesday tried, she really did, but Enid was too excited to listen.
"You know what you need now?" Enid interrupted her.
This was not going how Wednesday wanted it to go. "A bullet to the head," might be a solution to the problem. Her own or Xavier's head, either way, the problem would be solved.
"A dress!" preposterous suggestion, though one that fit Enid perfectly.
"I already have one," she didn't need one. Not for a dance with Xavier.
"Not the one you came here in! That's a fashion emergency not even Y/N could resuscitate! Thing back me up!" Enid turned to Thing for support.
Thing, the traitor, agreed with a thumbs up. Though Wednesday had to admit Enid replacing lightning with your name felt fitting.
And then Thing pointed at the doors.
"What can't I resuscitate?" and just when Wednesday thought things could not get worse, you walked in. She didn't even notice the doors opening.
"Wednesday's dress! She needs a new one for Rave'N!" Enid moved on to you, luckily not saying anything about who Wednesday was going with.
The situation could still be salvaged and put under control. Even when you just grinned cheekily at Wednesday and went over to your part of the room.
"She's going with Xavier! I'm so excited!" Enid blurted out.
Telling you bluntly the way she intended right after she was forced to ask Xavier would have been better. Wednesday furrowed her brows, looking away from your frozen form. She noticed Thing flinching, likely due to the way you got the news.
"Xavier?" you finally repeated, the tone of your voice flat and without any clue for Wednesday to try and decipher how you felt.
"Yes!" Enid exclaimed as she clasped her hands together. "You're going with us as well! It'll be our first roomie shopping spree!"
Your eyes narrowed at that. "Not in the mood," you bit out, and even as emotionally unaware as Wednesday was, she could understand you were annoyed.
Especially when you went and closed the sliding doors that divided your part of the room from her own. You never did that. Not until today.
"What just happened?" Enid asked, her enthusiasm clearly disappearing. And then her eyes widened as if she realized something. "That can't be right though," she muttered as she looked from the closed doors to Wednesday then back to the doors.
"What?" Wednesday asked, feeling slightly irritated. Enid figured something out and Wednesday wasn't sure what.
Enid frowned for a moment. "No, it's not important right now. You need a new dress," she paused for a moment. "Y/N will be fine, just give her a bit of space."
Wednesday wasn't about to show weakness and argue with that. This was as bad as the day could get, right?
~X~
She should have known not to underestimate the bad luck that followed her.
Not only did Galpin refuse to share information with her, now she had to deal with Tyler looking dejected over her going with Xavier.
"I'm not sure why you're becoming upset," she really didn't understand. She understood why you were upset. She accepted your invitation and then asked Xavier to go with her. She broke the deal.
"That's kind of the problem. I mean, call me crazy, Wednesday, but you keep giving me these signals," his statement confused her.
She met Tyler, she asked him to take her to the station, she went to get her coffee at Weathervane a couple of times. She didn't understand what signals he was talking about. "It's not my fault I can't interpret your emotional Morse code."
"Then let me spell it out for you. I thought we liked each other. But then you pull something like this and I have no idea where I stand," he kept talking but she focused on those words. On not having any idea where he stood...
Wednesday frowned slightly. Was that how you felt? After she 'pulled something like asking Xavier to the dance'? Was that why you closed the doors, and needed some space? Because you didn't know where you stood with Wednesday?
If Tyler was being delusional about her 'signals' as he called them, she supposed she gave you some signals. Certainly, more than she gave to Tyler or Xavier. That talk about Sartre... the knife she allowed you to keep... the unpleasant feeling she had when you didn't even say anything to her about the situation with Xavier.
"You could at least clear that up," Tyler interrupted her thoughts, but she had more important issues to deal with. The case, Rowan's warning, all of that was more important than what Tyler or you felt. She needed to prioritize, and she'd do just that.
~X~
You guessed you could admit you were sulking and that you could and should have been at least a bit more mature about your reaction to Wednesday going to the Rave'N with Xavier. You were just a bit too proud to admit it out loud.
Maybe it was a raiju thing. Avoiding the problem until it would solve itself. Just like waiting for a storm to pass. Or maybe you just got that from your dad. Either option worked.
Your sliding doors opened, but you didn't turn around, you just kept lying in your bed. Enid was probably back from the shopping spree. The sound of the footsteps didn't match her, though, so you looked back and saw Wednesday.
"I'm not going with Xavier because I want to. It was an act of self-preservation," she said as you sat up.
All of this looked a lot like how you were a few nights ago. With her in your part of the room, you sitting on your bed, only this time there was a tension you despised. "I'm not even going to ask you how that happened," you probably should have. You should have asked what she meant by that, you didn't. Maybe if you did things would have been different.
"You're still upset," she stated, and you nearly laughed at that.
You scoffed, looking to the side. "Why couldn't you just tell me yourself? You are going with Xavier, sure, that's your choice, but at least have the guts to tell me," you didn't know if she liked Xavier, or if she really had no choice but to ask, but that wasn't the issue. If Wednesday didn't feel like going with you, she was free to not go, no questions asked. You just wanted to hear it from her instead of Enid.
"I-" Wednesday began but then stopped herself.
The pause, and the slight uncertainty in her voice made you look at her. Something in her eyes made you question everything, that hint of vulnerability, the hint of her not being comfortable that you were looking for when you stepped right in front of her. It was there now. You have never seen Wednesday's eyes showing this much, leaving so much of what she was feeling out in the open. And it made you feel unsure. The idea of Wednesday Addams actually, probably unknowingly, leaving her emotions open for you to see, was scary.
It wasn't like her.
Whatever she was going to say, she changed her mind. "Excuses don't matter," she turned around and went back to her part of the room.
You just let out a long, frustrated, sigh and fell back onto your bed. This just made things worse between the two of you.
~X~
Prioritizing the case instead of her feelings turned out to be the right move. She found the monster's cave thanks to Eugene, she found its claw, and she got Xavier's blood sample. She even managed to get out of going to the dance with him, though that was unintentional.
Everything was just fine. Even if she did look at your part of the room as she got ready to stake out the cave with Eugene. It was empty. You went somewhere. Likely to your shed. On her way to Rave'N Enid mentioned you liked to be there when you needed space.
Thing jumped on her shoulder, and she knew exactly what he wanted. "Not. One. Word," she warned, her voice dangerously low.
But he didn't listen. “Postpone staking out the cave, go to the dance!” he told her, much more firmly than he usually did.
And Wednesday didn’t understand why he was so adamant. "I already made plans with Eugene. Besides, what's the point of going to that stupid dance?" you wouldn't be there, even if you were you'd be there with another date. She didn't need to go there just to see that. She didn’t mind that you probably found another date, no, she absolutely did not mind.
But Thing was persistent. “Not alone! Go with Y/N!” he signed energetically.
"How am I supposed to do that?" you barely talked to her, she had no way of getting you to go with her, besides, she was out of time. The dance was about to start.
Thing's next statement made her cold, dead heart skip a beat.
"You told Y/N what? How could you do that to me?!" he smartly jumped off her shoulder as she went to grab her dress. He actually told you, well wrote you a note, to come and pick Wednesday up so the two of you could go to the Rave'N. She already messed up when she didn't tell you about going with Xavier right away, she didn't want to mess up again. She wanted to take you to see the cave, and she wanted to tell you about being Xavier being her suspect.
Thing snapped his fingers, getting her attention. And then she saw the dress from Uriah's Heap. The same dress she very likely would have gotten if she was still going to the dance with you, but at that time she didn’t think the two of you would be going to a dance.
~X~
You opened the doors to your room and stepped inside. "Thing, you really shouldn't write notes and pretend Wed-" your breath hitched as you took in a sight you doubted you'd ever forget. Wednesday was putting her hair up, already dressed in a black dress that fit her like it was made for her. You were completely aware that you were staring at her, and that your jaw dropped. In your defense she looked stunningly beautiful.
Finally, Wednesday glanced at you. The intensity in her gaze, combined with how she looked, nearly made your knees buckle. Damn… you might be in trouble.
"You," you tried to speak, even though your throat was suddenly as dry as a desert.
"Look ridiculous?" she suggested.
You chuckled at that, shaking your head. "No, you look like you, just more regal," you took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. "I guess this is what being struck by lightning feels like," you swore you saw Wednesday's mouth twitch into the briefest, subtlest smile you have ever seen.
"Will you," she paused, swallowing hard and looking anywhere but at you. "Would you- don't make me ask," she said, her voice softer than what you were used to.
You smiled, stepping closer to her. Now, with a few feet between you you took in her appearance once again. The way her hair framed her face, the make-up she had on, complete with that dark lipstick, and the dress. Damn, that dress... "Will you go to the dance with me?" you asked, and your heart skipped a beat when she nodded.
Wednesday swallowed hard, glancing down, for once avoiding eye contact. "I will," she said as Thing gave the two of you a thumbs up.
You nodded at that and hurried over to find anything that would match Wednesday. The rushed search resulted in an all-black combination. Suit pants and a button-up shirt. As you rolled up your sleeves you couldn't help but feel like something was missing. And then Thing brought exactly what you were missing. A light gray tie to disrupt the all-black combo. Considering the limited options and available time you figured it would do. And judging by Wednesday you were right.
She wasn't exactly staring when you put the tie on, but she didn't look like she disapproved either.
~X~
The moment you came down the stairs you saw Galpin there, for whatever reason he managed to come as someone's date. However, that date was nowhere to be found at the moment.
Tyler's mouth fell open at the sight of Wednesday. "Wednesday! You look beautiful!" he approached the two of you. "Look, I'm sorry about my reaction, but I'm here now and since you're not with Xavier, maybe you'd like to join me?"
The audacity of this guy. You felt a couple of sparks surrounding your clenched fist, but you chose to control yourself.
"I'm with Y/N," Wednesday immediately shut his idea down, and you felt your lightning settling down.
Tyler blushed, clearly embarrassed. "Shit, sorry. I just thought since you said you were going with Xavier you two came as friends. I'll, uh, I'll leave you two to it," he backed away the moment he said that.
Maybe he wasn't that bad after all... He just had a massive crush on Wednesday, and you really couldn't blame him for that.
"Wednesday? Y/N? What is going on?" just when you thought you could go inside Eugene came up to you two.
"Hey, Bee boss," you greeted him. He looked like he was going on a trip, with a backpack and full gear ready.
"Eugene," Wednesday seemed a bit uncomfortable all of a sudden and you had a nagging feeling she changed her mind at the very last moment tonight. "There's been a change of plans. We'll stake out the cave tomorrow night."
What?
"I understand. I'll go check out the woods alone," he looked a lot like you did when you heard Wednesday was going to the dance with Xavier. Dejected, disappointed...
"Don't go alone," Wednesday ordered firmly. "It's dangerous, we'll go together tomorrow," she didn't let him reply and turned around to leave.
You looked between her and Eugene and just went after her. "A cave? Just how much did I miss?" you asked.
"We found a cave in the woods. It's the monster's lair," she explained quickly.
And they were going to stake it out? Alone?! "I'm going with you two tomorrow," you decided, leaving no space for arguments. The look in her eyes showed you she appreciated that. Maybe she missed having you around? No, that definitely wasn't it. Your lightning was just useful at times.
Pop music played loudly as you stepped inside, to smoke and icy aesthetic and a statue of a Yeti behind the DJ. Climate crisis meets extinction event or whatever Thornhill said. Speaking of Thornhill, she approached the two of you right away.
"Wednesday Addams! And Y/N L/N! What a lovely surprise!" she greeted you.
You pretended to fix your sleeves, not really sure how to talk with the woman outside the classroom. And then you noticed Enid. With Lucas? "Would you look at that, Wednesday I think Enid is calling us!" if you were allowed you would have zapped away, but Weems would have your head if you pulled something like that.
Luckily, Enid noticed you as well, and the three of you met by the drinks.
"Oh my God! I'm so happy you two are here together! And I love the look!" Enid grinned excitedly, she was definitely going to tease you about this sooner or later. Knowing her it would probably be the moment you went back to the dorm. "I don't know how it happened, but I'm glad things worked out."
Wednesday glanced at Lucas. "Interesting choice of a date," she pointed out.
"You can say that again," you agreed.
"It's not what it looks like. Lucas is trying to make his ex jealous and I'm trying to make Ajax jealous," Enid explained as Lucas approached you carefully, with his arms raised in surrender.
"Wednesday, Y/N, I come in peace," he said right away.
"Too bad. I brought my pocket mace. The medieval kind," Wednesday replied.
You raised your hands. "I promise I won't electrocute you this time."
Lucas nodded at that. "Thank you."
The curious look on Wednesday's face told you you should probably explain. "How about we step outside for a moment?" you suggested and luckily, she didn't mind that idea.
You took her to a slightly secluded spot with a bench you could sit on. "You've been hearing about me electrocuting people every now and then, right?"
She nodded. "I admit I am curious."
"It's not my proudest moment, but last year, on the Outreach day, Tyler, Lucas, and two other normies, the ones that follow Lucas around, attacked Xavier and destroyed his mural. I just got pissed and electrocuted them," you knew it wasn't right, you regretted not having more control over yourself. Fighting them on fair terms? That was fine. Electrocuting them wasn't...
"I didn't realize you and Xavier were close," Wednesday pointed out.
You shook your head. You were just classmates, he didn’t bother you and you didn’t bother him. You maybe had a handful of conversations that weren’t just greeting each other. That was all. "We really aren't. I just... I guess I can't stand back while someone is getting beaten up and bullied," it just didn't feel right to stand and watch that.
"You did what you felt was right. Besides, do you really think I'd judge you over something like that?" Wednesday asked, a slightly sinister smile forming on her lips.
You laughed at that. "No, I didn't. I just don't like talking about that. So, electrocuting past aside, may I have this dance?" you didn't offer her your hand, unsure if that was something she'd want, but you did stand up. And Wednesday stood up as well, nodding at you.
~X~
The music started and you watched for any change in Wednesday, but her expression remained the same, stoic and serious. However, she was looking at you with intensity you hadn't seen before. Not even when you came into the room before and saw her in the dress, ready to leave with you.
-Well, when the sun goes down and the moon comes up-
Much to your surprise Wednesday began shuffling a bit, mostly moving her shoulders and upper body.
-I turn into a teenage Goo Goo Muck-
Out of nowhere, she lifted her left arm up above her head and leaned sideways, before straightening her posture by bringing her right arm up. Before you could fully realize what was happening she dropped her arms, turned around, and walked away from you.
-Yeah, I cruise through the city and I roam the streets looking for something that is nice to eat, mmm-
She got into the rhythm, turned to her left so she was looking at you from the side, raising one arm at a time as her body moved in precise, though seemingly jerky, motions. She was lifting her head up, baring her neck, kicking her leg up, all the while maintaining eye contact with you. And then she stopped, turned to face you, and raised her arms to a shoulder level as she shuffled to the side, her head and arms going left and right to the rhythm of the beat.
-You better duck When I show up The Goo Goo Muck-
She bent down in an instant and you closed your eyes smirking when she tapped your shoulder with her finger. By the third time she tapped your shoulder you released the lightning, ignoring the way other students backed away from the two of you.
The intensity in Wednesday's gaze only increased when you, with sparks circling your body began getting in tune with her rhythm. As she began stepping away from you, you mirrored her actions, and as she moved to her left, so did you, effectively starting what could have been a deadly dance if it wasn't you and Wednesday. As Wednesday stopped you raised your arms up, bent your knees a bit, and brought them back down, releasing harmless lightning in Wednesday's direction.
-I'm the night headhunter looking for some head-
She moved her arms forward, and you couldn't tell if she was trying to bring the lightning closer to her or disperse it.
-With a way-out body underneath that head-
In movements that were only shaky in appearance, she brought her arms to her head, pretending to clutch it as lightning danced around her. She dropped her arms down, moving them from side to side as she looked up, her eyes just for a moment taking the lightning that surrounded her in.
And you, for the first time since you met Wednesday, found yourself truly mesmerized by her. Right there, with your lightning around her body, as she danced, you even dared to admit Enid was right. You may actually have a crush on Wednesday.
-Yeah, I'll get you, baby, with a little luck-
With your lightning still moving to her whim, she walked past you, baring the side of her neck when she was right next to you. You took that as a challenge, sliding after her, you glided across the floor, circling her and leaving a trail of lightning following the path of your left foot.
-'Cause I'm a teenage tiger and a Goo Goo Muck-
She shuffled her foot in a frankly adorable way, not for a moment bothered by the lightning that now rose up above and around the two of you. She made a motion as if drumming and with a snap of your fingers you offered two make-shift lightning sticks for her to hold. As Wednesday took hold of them you stepped in front of her, raising your open palms and creating two balls of lightning for her to drum against. And she did, for a few moments, she did exactly that before tossing the sticks aside, dispersing them in the wall of lightning that encased the two of you.
-You better duck When I show up The Goo Goo Muck-
She ducked right in front of you, and then got up, lifting up her dress and then abruptly slowing down, halting all movement but steady movement of her shoulders. You took a few steps back, gently moving to the music as you lifted your hands up and quickly clapped twice by the side of your head, letting sparks out with each clap. Then you went to Wednesday's side and offered a hand to her.
-Yeah, the city is a jungle and I'm a beast-
Just as Wednesday made a choice to reach forward you pulled your hand back, smirking as lightning formed claw-like shapes at the tips of your fingers. You slipped behind her and without touching her moved one of your hands close to her neck. She raised her head up, just for a brief second looking right into your eyes as she turned around.
-I'm a teenage tiger looking for a feast-
She made clawing-like motions and you stepped back, dropping down to one knee with your arms spread widely and all the lightning gathering around your palms.
-Yeah, I want the most but I'll take the least-
You were shaping the lightning around your hands into two red balls of lightning. Wednesday, surprisingly got into your personal space, stepping sideways between your spread arms and rolling her shoulders as she looked down at you. With a grin on your face you rose back up.
-'Cause I'm a Goo Goo Muck tiger and a teenage beast-
With a lot of concentration, you made the two balls of lightning collide, clashing them against one another and forming the shape of a black dahlia. While still standing behind Wednesday you went and offered the lightning-made flower to her.
-You better duck When I show up The Goo Goo Muck-
Wednesday reached for the flower, tore off the petals, and accepted the remains. You didn't comment on how the tips of her fingers rested on top of your palm as she slowly settled her hand over yours.
-The Goo Goo Muck-
She leaned back, the material of her dress barely brushing against you, but that alone told you a lot, and now you truly had to admit Enid was right.
~X~
Wednesday never thought she'd think feeling as overwhelmed as she was right now would feel like this. The tingle your lightning caused, the way it was clear you made sure it couldn't hurt her while still causing a satisfying sensation, the way you responded to her. The way she leaned back, brushing against you. All of it was almost too much. Yet she didn't move away from you.
"Thanks," you muttered, and she didn't understand what you were thanking her for, but somehow she leaned back a bit more, her fingers brushing against your hand.
And then she was no longer at the Rave'N. The monster was above her, pinning her down to the ground in the woods, she felt the claws digging into her, though still not piercing the flesh. And then the colors faded from the world around her, they became muted, less vibrant and she thought she would prefer to look at the world like that all the time. And orange lightning emerged, engulfing her, you... she realized.
When her vision ended, she realized you were holding her up, her back pressed against you to avoid drawing much attention. Wednesday thought that, after how you danced, no one would notice her having a vision, they'd just think she willingly leaned back into you.
"Wednesday?" the concern in your voice made her feel sick.
"I'm fine," she said, but that image remained in her head. Goody told her to use a raiju. To use you. But could she do it if that was the outcome?
A/N: I have a newly found love-hate relationship with this damn dance! I love it, but I hated writing it! Glad that one is over with, please, don't make me go through this again.
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Hi, I have a question for you about TWST. Do you think that in terms of medical care and technology our world is more advanced in some ways? I had this one idea that in TWST they don’t know CPR because they have magic. Also do you think that they had a moon landing or a space race?
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On the contrary, I think Twisted Wonderland’s medical care and medical technology is more advanced than ours, if not just as advanced. Twisted Wonderland has many of the same inventions as we do (cars, smartphones, social media, etc.) and even magical variants of those (a magical wheel/blastcycle is a magic-powered motorcycle), so it doesn't make sense to me that medicine and healthcare would be the one area where the real world is ahead of TWST's. Twisted Wonderland would be more advanced than us because magic would allow them to enhance their technology to surpass what we are realistically capable of. Technomantic assistive devices integrate elements of both technology and magic to assist those with impairments. Additionally, healing potions (which accelerate the speed of one's recovery) existed as far back as 400 years ago. For those skilled in potionology, they may whip up antidotes on the spot with the right medicinal herbs.
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I also don't think that the existence of magic completely negates the need for regular first aid procedures. Non-magical methods and skills must still exist since the majority of the population are non-magical. Among humans, 90% are completely incapable of magic and of the remaining 10%, most of them are not able to produce enough magic to so much as lift a cup. Very few left are competent enough to become skilled mages, and even fewer are competent enough to become medical mages. Why would the entire healthcare system of the world be entirely based in magic when so few people would be capable of administering that kind of care? CPR and first aid exist in the first place so the common everyday average Joe can help others until actual medical personnel can arrive. It wouldn’t make sense to gatekeep these skills or for them to not have been invented simply because magic is A Thing. In fact, magic is not widely accessible and is implied to be kept for the elite and well-off (more on that here and here).
“Not many humans can use magic, so we turn to chemistry for stuff like this,” Trey says in his Silk Adorned vignette when explaining to the group how the colors of fireworks can differ. The existence of regular sciences—devoid of magic—implies the existence of regular medicine as well. Remember too that not all schools teach magic, therefore regular subjects must exist and be widely taught in non-magic schools.
It should also be noted that, even with magic, it's not a perfect solution for every ailment out there. For example, the healing potions in 7-68 do not instantly restore Lilia to full health; he notes that he must still rest and that his magic is still depleted to the point where he cannot fly back in the direction he just came from.
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Magic was also not always viewed as a positive either; a few hundred years ago, it was viewed as a frightening thing. Mages were referred to derogatorily as “witches” and “wizards”. Most societies were not structured around magic (and still aren’t to this day, with fae seeming to be the exception). This means that normal medicine and related first aid must have still existed since magical medicine was presumably not widely accepted.
All of that was to say that I’m pretty sure Twisted Wonderland still has CPR, among other means of non-magical medicine and healthcare 😅
Now as for your final questions, I do think that Twisted Wonderland has achieved space travel. Idia was able to launch Ortho into space in Wish Upon a Star, so the technology is definitely there. It should also be noted that spacesuits and astronauts have been mentioned in the 4koma, which implies the existence of space travel. Again, I’d also like to point out that TWST’s general technological advances are about on-par with ours (including modes of transportation), so there’s no reason not to believe they haven’t gone to space as well.
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I don’t think there was a Space Race though? That’s an event that happened in our history, and we know that TWST, while borrowing ideas from irl does not cleanly align with reality. For example, the fictional countries we visit have elements from many cultures (Sunset Savanna has onsen eggs, which are Japanese, not African; Harveston has fashion and foods from various Nordic cultures, etc.).
For historical events… I think Twisted Wonderland is more likely to get its inspiration from Disney movies rather than look to actual irl history. It gets into too much muddy political tension otherwise, which I totally understand TWST wanting to keep out. There were probably other circumstances that led to the advent of space travel in Twisted Wonderland.
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redtsundere-writes · 8 months
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Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen
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Part 3: Medusa's Snake
Beginning. ← Previous | Next →
mmafighter!sukuna ryomen x femcoach!reader
Sypnosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Yuuji, Choso and Sukuna are brothers. Toji is a nice parent. Praising. Warnings: Cursed words. Mentions sexual harassment. Word Count: 2696 words. Author's Note: I just finished and I could finally write this *cries happily*
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Night was slowly falling over Tokyo. The small, cozy ramen bar stood out with its warm lights and glowing signs, The air was filled with the captivating fragrance of bone broth bubbling in the pots. The dim lighting enhanced the skill of the chef, whose expert hands moved gracefully as he masterfully prepared the noodles at the counter. The murmur of diners, mixed with the sound of steam and noodles cooking, created a gastronomic symphony.
In the middle of the stage, Yuuji, Megumi and I were there to relax after another day of hard training. The delicious broth and the comfort of carbs soothed the stress we had accumulated over the past few days. Sukuna and I have been training restlessly for the past month for the fight that was coming up in a few days. Toji Fushiguro is a superb Muay Thai fighter, a real threat to a boxer like Sukuna. We had to be prepared.
"My brother didn't let you rest?” Yuuji asked me when he saw me stretching my neck with some help from my hands.
"Yes, he told me not to even dare to think about resting because he would kick me out of the gym,” I replied. The stress in my neck came back from just thinking about his tantrums.
I understood that he was nervous about the fight. He had an important title to defend, and every fighter in his weight class and in back-to-back weight classes wanted it. Sukuna is just a king protecting his crown, but this was already too much. All his tension was slowly creeping up on my back. I had to admit that his dedication is admirable. While we were eating a delicious bowl of ramen without worrying about ruining our diets, Sukuna was still training in the empty gym.
“Sukuna always acts like this. It only gets worse with every fight,” Megumi explained without looking away from his bowl. 
“Doesn’t he have a hobby or something like that? If he keeps tensing his muscles like that, it could be bad in the long run.” I knew from experience. 
“He does, but we can't help him with that.” Yuuji shook his head. 
“What? Why not?” I asked. I was his trainer, I should know. 
Yuuji looked for a second at Megumi as if he was hesitating whether to tell me or not. It was little moments like these that made me understand why they were friends despite having two completely different personalities. They could communicate with just their looks and a few gestures. I wish I had a connection like that with someone. Yuuji let out a sigh and went back to eating, completely evading the question.
“Why don't you want to tell me?” I asked him directly. 
“It's just… It's not like he gets relaxed by it. It's more like a good luck ritual,” he explained reluctantly. 
Good luck rituals are common in any sport. There are soccer players who sing an anthem before taking the field, baseball players who wear a special pair of socks, and fighters who tattoo talismans on their backs. I was used to that kind of thing, and I'm sure Yuuji was too.
“There's nothing wrong with that,” I said. 
“It is because Sukuna doesn't know how to hold back,” Yuuji replied.
I could sense that he wanted to avoid the topic. I didn't know exactly why, but he must have had a good reason to do so, so I decided not to insist and continue eating, but we were no longer talking. It wasn't an awkward silence, we were just tired of the subject and needed to relax.
“Yuuji, she's his coach, maybe you should tell her,” Megumi commented after finishing his bowl… 
“It's unnecessary,” his friend answered.
“Gojo knows about it, I think she should also know in case Sukuna tries something, don't you think?” With that comment, I knew that this was no ordinary ritual. 
“You're right.” Yuuji sighed before looking at me. “The thing is… Sukuna must have satisfying sex the night before the fight for good luck,” he finally blurted out. 
"That's not so weird”. I commented before shoving another mouthful of ramen into my mouth. "Why didn't you want to tell me? You didn't want to embarrass your brother?” 
“Because that's why he and Choso don't talk to each other anymore.” Yuuji started with the story.
Days before the night Sukuna became the champion of the light heavyweight weight class, the three brothers had dinner with their parents. At this dinner, Choso excitedly introduced his fiancée. She was his love and pride, his better half. According to Yuuji, she was a very pretty and nice girl, and as usual, Sukuna avoided her like the plague because he was not interested in meeting her at all. 
Since the championship was held in Las Vegas, Choso and his fiancée stayed in the same hotel as Sukuna because Choso wanted to show her how cool his brother was (despite being a complete jerk). The night before the fight, Choso woke up in the middle of the night and realized that his fiancée wasn't in bed with him. She wasn't in the bathroom, and she didn't take her phone with her, but she took her room key with her. 
He went out to look for her and couldn't find her anywhere. Since he didn’t speak English well, he went to Sukuna for help. When he knocked on his door, his fiancée came out of the room with her hair matted and her panties in her hand. He knew about Sukuna's lucky ritual, so he knew perfectly well what had happened. His fiancée cheated on him with his damn brother. Choso went crazy and jumped at Sukuna, but he knocked him out before he could do anything. 
Choso woke up in the hospital bed with Yuuji next to him. According to him, he had never seen him so broken and betrayed in his life. He cried all night while his older brother was preparing for their fight. He knew Sukuna could be many things, but he never thought he would be capable of being a traitor. Needless to say, despite everything, Sukuna won the fight.
"What a jerk.” I grumbled through my teeth. 
"My brother doesn't care about anyone or anything. He can't be changed. I don't know where my parents failed in his upbringing,” Yuuji mentioned with a sigh. 
"That's why you should be careful, Sukuna is capable of doing anything to win,” Megumi warned me.
"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you for telling me.”
The days passed, and the fight was one day away. After a tedious trip to Dubai and a quick stop to unpack at the hotel. The team, Sukuna and I headed out bright and early to the official weigh-in with the fight referee and judges. After Sukuna had lunch, we headed to the exhibition weigh-in at the hotel's convention center. This is where the fighters must appear to be brawling before the fight to get the public's attention. There is also a press round for them to publicize the event during the day. 
Sukuna, Gojo and I were called to the stage along with Toji Fushiguro and his trainers to be the next to go on stage. Sukuna was wearing his headphones and had a very unfriendly look on his face. Gojo asked him to take them off, and he did so between tantrums as I mentally prepared myself to go on stage. This reminded me of the good old days. 
As we walked out onto the stage, the press cameras began to flash and the murmur of reporters manifested itself in the room. I kept my face as serious as possible as Sukuna and Toji greeted each other and prepared for the weigh-in. I watched as he took off his hoodie to reveal his tribal tattoos proudly to the audience. The fighters reluctantly greeted each other with hurtful insults and stepped on the scales. The weight was somewhat different from the morning, as both had eaten breakfast at the hotel buffet. Toji weighed 220 pounds, while Sukuna weighed 215.
The audience applauded when it was announced that both passed the weigh-in. The only thing left was the press round. After Sukuna and Toji exchanged threats, all of us  sat at a long table on stage. Two coaches between the fighters to keep things from getting personal. The emcee asked if anyone had any questions, and the requests bombarded him. The emcee decided to give the floor to the reporter in front of me.
"I have a question for the Medusa’s Snake! How did the man-hating former welterweight champion of the women's division become the trainer of the champion with clear anger issues!?” The reporter exclaimed so that everyone present could hear the question. 
I could feel Sukuna's eyes drilling into my skull for me to turn around and give him explanations on the spot. I carefully approached the microphone to speak loud and clear. 
"I may not like men, but I like champions. I always belong to the winning team," I answered while the photographers kept flashing me.
Medusa’s Snake was the nickname I was baptized with in the first fight I had against a man in the first gym I went to. That fighter was a disgusting man from my past who harassed me in and out of the gym. He would always watch me, try to touch me and follow me home. That was until one day I asked him to train with him, since he was so interested in me. He agreed and during the fight he tried to touch my tits, that was until I kicked him and knocked out a couple of his teeth. He ended up in the hospital and didn't wake up until a day later. From then on, I was nicknamed that way, and my brand as a champion was to be mean to men but honest with women, which wasn't too far from the truth.
"How is your neck? Can you train the world champion in that condition?!” Another reporter asked. 
I used to be the world champion in my weight class until during my fight with Maki Zenin, I fell badly on my neck and tore it. I won the fight, but I lost a lot of range of motion in my neck. The doctor ordered me to rest for an indefinite period of time. It's been like that for almost two years now.
"I am fine, but I'm not fully recovered. My focus at the moment is on doing everything I can to keep Sukuna as champion,” I replied.
"Mr. Ryomen! It is known that you are very strict with admissions at your gym and that there are no women! Why the change?!” Another reporter asked. Sukuna took a few seconds to think about his answer, I could already imagine what stupid thing he would say next. 
"I chose her because she is the best,” he answered without further ado.
A small smile infiltrated my face before I could hide it. That response caught me off guard. It was the first time Sukuna had recognized me like that. I'd be lying if I said it hadn't been nice to be recognized for the first time in two months of work. In fact, it's the first time I've been recognized as a trainer in a long time. Being a woman in a male"dominated world is complicated. You have to be good enough to be accepted, but not be the best so as not to overshadow any man with fragile masculinity.
After a couple more questions and an exchange of threatening hints, we went back backstage. We were about to head to the hotel gym to warm up a bit, but Sukuna stopped me halfway down the hall to confront me. A move that not only seemed strange to me, but also to the team.
"Are you a world-class fighter?” Sukuna questioned me. He couldn't be serious. I was going to answer, but Nanami stepped in. 
"Didn't you know that?” He asked him to make sure he wasn't joking. 
"Did you think we just brought you some random pretty girl so you could finally learn floor techniques?” Gojo interjected in amusement. Sukuna got flustered about the hidden intention of his coach’s questions. 
"I don't waste my time watching female fighting,” Sukuna answered, slightly blushing with embarrassment for being the only one who didn't know who I was. 
"That explains why she beat you up the first day,” Itadori commented with a chuckle. 
"I'm not surprised coming from Medusa’s Snake," someone said in a thick voice behind us. 
It was no other than Toji Fushiguro. A tall, strong and powerful man. A fighter easily recognizable in the crowd. If you put a bag over his head, people could still recognize him by his large physique. Unlike his body, his appearance was quite plain. He had a haircut that was not so long, but not so short. He wore a black sweatshirt, gray shorts and sandals from the brand that sponsors him. Despite his dangerous reputation, he had a pleasant smile, decorated with a small cut on his lip. 
"It's nice to finally meet you,” he greeted me directly, completely ignoring his opponent. 
It felt strange for him to approach me in such a friendly manner, but I still accepted his greeting. Megumi appeared behind him, looking like he was wondering the same thing I was.
"Do you know her, dad?” Megumi asked him in confusion. 
"Do you remember the fight your cousin Maki lost three years ago?” Toji asked without taking his eyes off me. Megumi nodded. “She finished the fight with a perfect Kimura*, someday you should teach me how to do that,” he flattered me with a proud smile, but it vanished when Sukuna came between us. 
Kimura: A technique whose main objective is to exert pressure on the opponent's shoulder and elbow joint to achieve submission in various wrestling disciplines.
"Not even in your dreams, old man.” Sukuna barked with a frown. “She signed a contract saying she belongs to me, so don't even try.”
Seeing Sukuna so defensive about keeping me on his side was strange. After the last two months, he has done nothing but scold me every time I do something wrong in his eyes. Toji didn't even flinch at his threat. I poked him in the ribs to get him to step aside and let me talk. 
"Thanks for the compliment and the offer, but Sukuna is the only one I plan to train until I get back on my feet. I plan to return to the ring soon,” I explained with a smile. 
“I understand. If you change your mind, you know how to find me,” he said while pointing at Megumi. Toji approached Sukuna and gave him a proud smile. “Take good care of her, snakes are great at escaping,” he advised her with a wink before walking away with Megumi and the rest of his team behind him. Sukuna muttered a curse under his breath and let him go.
Two big UFC fighters had recognized me as a good coach and fighter on the same day. It was a big step for my self-esteem and my career. My heart was beating like crazy with excitement, and the smile on my face didn't seem to go away anytime soon. 
“You're smiling like an idiot,” Sukuna scolded me. 
"Can't I be happy that the heavyweight champion just complimented my skills?” I said as we headed for the exit with the others once Toji left our sight. 
"That better be it, and you better not be thinking about going with him,” he challenged me. 
"Are you jealous?” I joked while nudging him. 
"Of course not,” Sukuna answered while rolling his eyes. 
"Don't worry, just behave, and I'll still be yours,” I said in a mocking tone. I was partly joking and partly not. I really wanted him to behave. 
"Nice try,” he spat before picking up the pace to go with Gojo, leaving me behind. “Worth the shot” I thought as I followed them.
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