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flickeringart · 3 years

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Minor aspects

While the nature of the major aspects in astrology is quite straightforward and has been covered more than sufficiently, there’s still a lot of fog surrounding the nature of the minor ones. There are a lot of minor aspects that can be taken into consideration when interpreting a chart… however, since they are labeled minor they won’t be as obvious and much more difficult to spot in one’s own life. Note that this doesn't mean that they aren't impactful. There’s a lot of speculation and vague terms used when describing them. It seems that every minor aspect is said to have a “spiritual/creative dimension” as if that is supposed to clear up any of the mystery surrounding them. Perhaps, on one level, we don’t want to pin them down too much because certainty is the enemy of exploration. Or perhaps it’s the case that the aspects themselves don’t want to be pinned down? There’s an appeal in keeping certain things mysterious in our lives, to avoid defining and putting rigid labels on phenomena. It makes life alive and beautiful. Many people dismiss astrology is because they are afraid that they’re going to be reduced to a set of characteristics and have their personality mapped up to the point of being able to predict and foresee patterns of behavior and fated themes. The fear of knowledge is not irrational; it is probably healthy to an extent. Knowing too much can be dangerous and rob life of its magic. “Curiosity killed the cat”, as the saying goes. However, this is not the whole truth because curiosity also leads to expansion and better understanding, so let’s not be afraid to concretize these aspects, it's not the same as "killing" their potential. Life is never completely in our hands anyway, there's no risk of knowing it all.

Quintile (72°)/Bi-quintile (144°)

These aspects are said to have something to do with individual style and quality of creative work. It is suggested that these aspects say something about a mental-creative process of imposing one’s mind on a particular subject. It is also linked to talent and gifts the individual would possess that have not been actively learned. Basically, it seems to be indicative of the particular way a person would approach a subject. For example, the quintile would not describe the activity itself - the activity could be painting, knitting, running, cleaning or whatever – the quintile/bi-quintile would point to the way the person approaches the activity.

For example, Ted Bundy (whose chart I’ve explored a bit here), has Neptune bi-quintile the MC. Neptune, being the planet of illusion hints to Bundy’s quality of being a chameleon, deceiving the public as part of his personal style.

Prince Harry, (whose chart I’ve touched upon before), has his Moon bi-quintile Neptune. The Moon can be indicative of the mother figure, and his mother Princess Diana certainly had an elusive style and charm that was a bit deceptive and seductive. Of course, he would have the same thing going in his own life but it would perhaps be difficult for us to spot. He also has Moon quintile Venus and he definitely has a style/quality of emotional-physical comfort. He has Pluto quintile the AC, which would point to a style of showing up in the world that is powerful and intense. He has a tendency to come off as destructive and chaotic at times. There’s also a quintile aspect forming between Mercury in the 8th house and the MC which would hint to a public image that is colored by the “taboo” things he has said about his family in the recent present, but also in the past. He’s a public image that is aligning with the style of the playful amoral trickster.

As I’m going with charts I’ve already explored, let’s look at the quintiles in Meghan Markle’s chart. Her Venus is quintile Uranus and it perfectly describes her style of “wokeism”, that is, appearing to be objective and intelligent about feelings and affective values. She has a style of being “the loving humanitarian”. Whether she is this way in an actual sense is debatable. The quintile aspect is describing the quality and style not the actuality. But, it is disturbingly close to reality that it somehow becomes reality. It’s like the actor who adopts another energy signature in order to portray a different person. It doesn’t really matter if a person is rotten at the core - if he has a loving way of being, what difference does it make? The style is real enough to not reflect and give the impression of love.

Semi-square (45°) / Sesquiquadrate (135°)

These aspects are said to precipitate events. The nature of these two aspects is more immediate than the square aspect (which causes tension and doubt and needs constant navigation). The conflict represented is usually unconscious and is therefore not easy to identify. However, as these conflicts tend to manifest quite abruptly, we can take a look at the concrete problems the person faces. The planets connected by a semi-square/sesquiquadrate aspect will be in conflict but force some kind of release (that may result in an accident because of it’s autonomous/unconscious function).

I have Saturn sesquiquadrate my Moon. Since I tend to unconsciously block my emotional responses, the pressure builds and I am “forced” to get out of a situation, “forced to listen to my emotions”. I have encountered the theory that the sesquiquadrate in particular is manifesting as something that is looked down upon societally. This would make sense considering the aspect forces a breakout of one of the planets and nothing that is immediate and abrupt is ever favorably looked upon when it comes to social-societal structure and predictability. I have been meaning to take on commitments that would further my status in society in terms of formal education (Saturn in the 9th conjunct the MC) but I have not been able to do it without considerable decline in my emotional well-being. So, I have been “thrown out” by unconscious forces every time I’ve tried.

My sister has her Venus sesquiquadrate Saturn. She’s known for her deliberate and strategic way of dressing. She plans her outfits carefully, there’s nothing haphazard about the way she presents herself. However, she has Lilith conjunct Venus so she can push the limits and simply do what she pleases sometimes as well when the pressure of Saturn becomes too much. But, this often causes external judgment. A relative of mine has her Sun semi-square Venus. I can tell that she’s highly aware of her appearance. She is very pretty but there’s always something that is a bit off between what she wears and her self-expression. It’s like it doesn’t quite fit and it’s irritating.

To get back to the celebrities, Meghan Markle has Neptune sesquiquadrate Mercury. Is it possible that this forces distortion and vagueness in opinion and communication? It would certainly fit the bill. She also has Uranus sesquiquadrate Mars. She simply has to “break out of her confining situations”, cut people out of her life and move on in her own way. Uranus is also sesquiquadrate her MC, which seems to point to her unconscious pull to “do what she wants to do” at the detriment of her public image and reputation. Notably, Uranus sits in her 5th house of personal enjoyment and creation.

Prince Harry has a semi-square between Mars and Pluto. When he is angry it blossoms into rage and he can’t see straight. It has gotten him into quite a lot of trouble and societal-social disapproval. It seems that this is a common theme with the sesquiquadrate and semi-square. He also has his Moon sesquiquadrate Jupiter. Isn’t it the case that he tends to indulge in a way that makes him look bad in society?

Quincunx (150°)

This aspect is typically found between planets incompatible by element and mode. Basically, they have nothing in common and have a hard time cooperating, which will cause minor stress in the individual because of necessity to work around the incompatibilities. The planets are not in direct conflict but they are uncomfortable with each other.

For example, I have my Moon quincunx Mercury. Every time I sit down to write I’m mildly disturbed by little things like an aching back, a headache, restless legs or whatever. It’s not very comfortable for me but I can still keep with it, however it might take a toll on me health wise. The quincunx has been related to health issues because of the mild stress that it causes. It is manageable and one is usually able to cope with the stress, but it’s not very pleasant. Because it is not as demanding as more disturbing conflicts in one’s life, it’s in the background causing irritation.

Meghan Markle’s Venus makes a quincunx aspect to her MC. This suggests that she has a hard time reflecting her value on a public level, it’s as if how she’s perceived publicly disturbs her sense of ease and comfort. She has an Aries MC with a Virgo Venus and she’s continuously depicted as a bully these days, as some kind a selfish and aggressive bitch (the more negative attributes of Aries). This must be undermining her self-worth immensely, however, it’s perhaps too minor of a problem to do anything about. It is still there nonetheless, harping on in the background, breaking her down and causing slow disintegration…

Semi-sextile (30°)

Planets forming semi-sextile aspects are said to be able to aid each other, to have a better connection than if they had no link at all. Usually one planet is in the sign that comes before the sign of the other; in other words, a semi-sextile might be forming between Mars in Aries and Venus in Taurus. The semi-sextile usually connects consecutive sign like this, but planets could be in semi-sextile in the same sign, like Mars in 0° Taurus semi-sextile Venus in 30° Taurus. In any case, the planet placed at an earlier degree or in the earlier sign can draw on qualities of the planet in the later degree or the later sign and vice versa. For example, Prince Harry’s Venus in Libra is semi-sextile his MC. He can draw on his sense of harmony a diplomacy to benefit his public image. His Mars in Sagittarius is also semi-sextile his MC, which makes it so that he can draw from his Martial qualities of energy and action to influence his career and success.

Parallel/Contra-parallel

These are called aspects in declination because they are measured by latitude and not by longitude. This essentially means that two planetary bodies can aspect each other in a certain way measuring the distance between them north-south of the celestial equator. Two planets at the same degree north and south of the equator form a parallel aspect and can be interpreted the same as a conjunction (some say that it's more obscure like a quincunx/semi-square). Two planets opposite each other north and south form a contra-parallel aspect and can be interpreted as an opposition (some say that it's basically the same as the parallel though).

I have found, looking at my own chart that these aspects only confirms already existing aspects measured by longitude or it confirms the sign that a specific angle is in. For example, my MC is in Aries and it is also parallel Mars. Mars is the ruler of Aries so it emphasizes my already martial MC. My Sun is conjunct Saturn and it’s also parallel Saturn. My sister has a Scorpio MC and it’s also parallel Pluto, the natural ruler of Scorpio. For example, my sister has a wide Moon-Mars conjunction (6°) but they are also in contra-parallel. How is this supposed to be interpreted? I would simply see it as Moon-Mars is connected strongly despite the orb being a little wide with the conjunction.

However, it’s not always the case that parallel and contra-parallel aspects only confirms already existing influences. They can also add themes and connections. My sister doesn’t have any longitude aspects between Saturn and Uranus but they are contra-parallel to each other.

Septile (51.43° - a 1/7 of the 360°)

It is said to indicate a hidden flow of energy between the planets involved, an inner sensitivity to the spiritual dimension of the planets. Another description I have come across is that the planets “darkly interact” and there’s an occult theme surrounding the connection.

I have Venus septile Jupiter in my own chart. Going by the said method of interpretation, it would mean that I have sensitivity to the hidden wealth and underlying beauty and abundance in life. I think it is quite accurate.

Novile (40° - 1/9 of the 360°)

Is said to be describing a contact of perfection/idealization. It also seems to have something to do with spiritual awakening and growth, lack of fear and freedom.

Having Sun novile Saturn for example could be interpreted as a feeling of communion with the world and life itself through responsibility and the control one can exercise through self-expression.

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There are of course other minor aspects to explore, but I'll stop here for now.

#astrology #aspects in astrology #minor aspects #minor aspects in astrology #quintile #bi-quintile #semi-square #sesquiquadrate #quincunx #parallel and contra-parallel #aspects of declination #prallel aspects #contra-parallel aspects #septile #novile #aspects in the natal chart #aspects #aspects in declination

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ayamturd · 3 years

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brother│sbi family

summary: y/n will always stand by their brothers no matter the hardship or challenges they should overcome in the end.

song: Brother by Kodaline

warnings: angst to fluff(?), cursing, blood/gore descriptions, death, slight spoliers for dsmp

pairing: in-game platonic!sbi family

a/n: i heard this song the other day and knew i had to give it a try (give it a listen!). also, each section/scene change is supposed to show a period of growth for the reader, both in age and confidence wise. as always, pls feel free to comment or give feedback!

wc: (4.1k) - m.list

When we were young we were the ones

The kings and queens oh yeah, we ruled the world

“Techno, wait!”

“Keep up then, slow poke!”

Technoblade and y/n were running through the village, laughing like madmen while jumping over the hay bales serving as their mini obstacle course. They were passing the time while Dadza finished his tradings with Wilbur, him volunteering to assist in hopes of exploring the market place. As they continued their chase, Technoblade began to gain a lead; his long limbs giving him a far unfair advantage against his smaller sibling. He was nearing the local well in the town square, and y/n knew they would have to take drastic measure before he could claim victory.

Quickly assessing their surroundings, y/n grabbed the first product they could snatch off the closest stand. They beamed it at Techno, the potato hitting him on the back of his head, causing him to falter and trip over his hooves. Y/n leaped over him, grin wide when hearing the vendor and their brother yell after them.

“Y/n! What gives?!” Technoblade scrambled up in a hurry, rushing to meet their stride. Y/n only cackled, shouting back, “hey, it’s like you once said, ‘What the ancients called a clever fighter is one who not only wins, but excels in winning with ease.’”

The sun beamed down in the late afternoon, yet y/n was too driven to notice. They reached the center square and rang the bell, signifying their win. “I regret teaching you the ways of Sun Tzu.” Technoblade was panting with his hands on his knees; he had tried to catch up given his fall slowing him down, but ended up running in vain to his defeat.

“Ahh you don’t mean that now, do you?” Y/n climbed up the well and jumped on Technoblade’s shoulders, forcing him to adjust to the sudden weight while they gripped his pink hair. He grunted, “I do if it means you beating me.” Y/n giggled.

“Don’t worry, I’ll always remember your miserable loss as the origin of my success.”

“Gee, thanks.” Despite their bickering, the two children held large smiles, snickering while spinning carefree and contently. They tuned out the world, purely existing in the moment while conquering each trivial challenge at a time.

We've taken different paths

“Come on, y/n, you’ve got to let go some time or another.” Y/n clung onto Wilbur’s side, curled into his chest while the lanky man hovered his arms above them.

“Not until you hug me back, you jerk!” Wilbur sighed, pulling them in again. “I already hugged you in the house. We’re not gonna be here for another 10 minutes, right? You know how impatient Tommy can be.”

“Alright, fine you dickhead. I’ll let you go. See if I care the next time you want a hug,” y/n huffed. They pulled away in haste and crossed their arms, turning away from him completely.

“You’re such a cry baby, s’not like we’ll be gone forever. Can visit and shit,” Tommy spoke up, walking towards the pair with his saddle in hand.

“Shut up, bitch. I won’t miss you anyway, I was talking to Wilbur.”

“Like hell you won’t!”

Wilbur stepped between the two, hand on Y/n’s shoulder and a push to Tommy’s face. “Maybe it’s best that we’re leaving, y/n. Tommy’s obviously influenced you too much.”

“Why the hell you say that like it’s a bad thing?!”

“Ugh, God please no.”

Despite all odds, y/n was the shortest in the family compared to all the boys. They were forced to look up at Tommy while he glared down at their smug face.

Phil came forward from the house and chose to stand besides y/n. “I’ve only just gotten them to leave, don’t tell me you’re holding them down any longer.” Y/n muttered a small no. Wilbur and Tommy looked offended at the comment, and Phil only chuckled at the sight. “You’ll see them soon, y/n. You know they’ve been waiting for the opportunity to explore, and one day you’ll take your chance too.”

“Yeah, I know,” y/n sighed and leaned into Phil’s side. They were openly pained to have their brothers leave their home, disliking the idea of their family separated, yet they knew they didn’t have the right to stop them from their ambitions.

Phil checked over their supplies once more before patting their shoulders with encouraging words. Giving them room, the brothers mounted their horses and pulled the reins to the East, taking one final glance at their home. They both waved and rode off.

The sun laid above the horizon, strips of color spread across the sky as night began to fall. Though they were too far to hear, y/n waited a moment before speaking. “Till next time.”

And travelled different roads

“You can’t be serious.”

“You rather I leave them to die?” Technoblade was packing, grabbing his best weaponry and stuffing rations into his satchel. Although contemplating to bring his armor, he opted out of it in favor of traveling light. Y/n was trailing behind the large piglin, eyes irritated and upset.

“How can you say that? I’m only concerned on why you think a revolution is what they need right now!” Technoblade spun around at their words, standing above them menacingly. Any rational person would be afraid if it weren’t for the fact that they grew up together.

“Y/n. You and I both know there’s a reason they called me and me alone. I’m going there to help and do what is ask of me. What else do you expect from all of this?” Technoblade spoke steadily, his chin still raised while his eyes looked down at them. It only angered y/n more.

“What I expect, Technoblade, is for you to be their brother and help them! Be their brother for once and not just ‘the Blood God’!” Y/n emphasized each point with a jab to his chest. It was rare for the two to fight at all, them being considerably close and maintaining the same idealization for the most part.

Techno only narrowed his eyes before grabbing y/n’s wrist. “We’ve talked about this, y/n. Don’t act like you don’t understand the difference between ‘the Blood God’ and myself. Don’t act like there is a difference at all.” There was a slight pause as y/n’s eyes widen at their close proximity, Technoblade having had moved closer towards their face.

“… you’re hurting me, Techno.” Glancing down at their hands, Technoblade immediately let go and grabbed his crossbow behind y/n, leaving the room as if the conversation never happened. Y/n was quick to follow him before he left the house.

They screamed out, “This isn’t right, Techno! For their sakes, you and that tactical brain of yours should realize that at the very least!” Technoblade stopped near the exit and tilted his head to the left, a brief silence before speaking. “If you weren’t so afraid of the world, you could always go save them yourself.”

He slammed the front door close at that, leaving a still y/n in shock at his words. The night was dead quiet as y/n stood there for some time, a ringing silence impeding the air. Phil came down the hallway from his room, tired yet aware of the situation; he was admittedly awake during the argument. “Are you alright, dear?” His voice was soft as he was unsure of y/n’s current emotions, their back to him while facing the front door. Y/n turned towards him with teary eyes.

“No.”

And when you're in the trenches

And you're under fire I will cover you

“Ya’ know what, Wilbur?” Tommy was sitting on a furnace, Wilbur leaning against the cavern walls across him. They were both eating dinner together in the dark, dimly lit and empty space, the only sound coming further down the cave where Technoblade farmed until Tommy spoke up. Raising a hand to chew, Wilbur swallowed before asking a what?

“I’m getting real sick of potatoes.” They both laughed at that, temporarily finding joy in the small joke before fading back into a helpless silence. They were still reeling from their situation; no home, no friends, no government to stand with. While they were in the presence of their brother, Technoblade was focused on their main goal: revolution. Even through perseverance, the brothers couldn’t help but feel exhausted from the efforts, the previous war having taken a toll in spite of the approaching age of a new one.

“I miss home,” Tommy expressed, eyes trained to the ground. Wilbur stared at the boy before looking down at the baked potato in hand. “Me too.”

A sudden noise came from above, as if someone broke down their stone entrance. Although Pogtopia had gained an underground support from the citizens of Manberg, their location was still undisclosed to the others, secret letters and Tubbo being the only communication. Grabbing his sword, Tommy nodded to Wilbur and headed up the steep stairway. Wilbur briefly looked up and ran to warn Technoblade of a possible intruder.

Weapon in hand, Tommy creeped up the path determined. Footsteps echoed underground and Tommy paused to push himself against the wall. The light of a lantern glowed ever so brighter with each approaching step behind the corner above. Right as he rose to strike, a familiar voice spoke out.

“You’re not seriously going stab me now, right?” Tommy’s gaze shot up to see his sibling smirk at his surprise. “Cause that would suck after traveling this whole way to see you idiots.”

Tommy laughed breathlessly in disbelief before shouting their name for all to hear. He ran up to quickly embrace them and pulled them down to meet the rest. Technoblade and Wilbur visibly relaxed at the sigh of the two, weapons dropping to their side.

“You’re here,” Technoblade stated, his eyebrows raised unexpectedly. Expression neutral, y/n only spared him a glance before looking to the side. “I’m here.”

Wilbur ignored the small tension and walked forward, a soft smile at the sight of them with his arms raised. “Am I still allowed to ask for that hug?” Y/n grinned and let him engulf them in a hug. They squeezed his torso tight while they swayed slightly side to side. Tommy, elated to see his sibling for the first time in practically years, vocalized his excitement loudly behind the embracing pair.

“Are you here to help us fight?!”

Y/n hesitated before turning back to smile wearily, “I’m here to help you in any way I can.”

If I was dying on my knees

You would be the one to rescue me

“You want to be a hero, Tommy?”

The battlefield was suspended in apprehension, everyone amassed on the small platform above the caved in trench. Standing before them, separated by the broken landscape, Technoblade held large, black skulls in each hand. In front of him, two structures of sand guarding his sides. He was perched over them, eyes red in blood-like fury with tusks that pointed in pride and determination. Y/n gaped in horror at the sight, whispering a small no that fell on deaf ears.

“Then die like one!”

A sudden light blinded the field, Technoblade having had completed the ancient ritual due for destruction. Before anyone could collet their thoughts, a small force pushed everyone back. Strong winds blew as dust covered the the terrain, and from the ashes of white fire rose two mythological beasts with holo eyes and a grotesque body of dark bones. There was a beat of stillness before chaos erupted.

Yelling and panic ensued as some began fighting the monstrosities while others worked to kill those preventing the end. Y/n felt lost as others pushed and pulled them every way. They tried looking for their brothers, crying out their names in the frantic space, but could no longer define anyone in the tumultuous crowd overwhelming them.

By the time they were able to separate themself from the group, a building hum penetrated from above. Explosions descended around them as they became trapped by the blasts. Arms covered and crouched close to the ground, Y/n was helpless to the wither, and they stared in dread as the creature began to glow to attack once more.

Before they met their final end, however, colors invaded the sky and erupted against the wither’s side. It roared in rage at the measly ambush and turned to find the source. Y/n was still frozen in the futile position, but was hoisted from behind and dragged up the small crater entrapping them.

Technoblade let go of their weight once on solid ground again and stepped away immediately. Y/n, wheezing from the realization they could have died, turned to look up at their brother while still laying on the ground. Arms beneath them, they struggled to raise their head to him.

“Why, Tech,” y/n exasperated, eyes begging for a justification for more destruction beyond that of their recent brother’s death. Tears fell in anguish of the devastation around them. “Just why?”

“Not everyone can be saved. Not everything is worth being saved.”

And if you were drowned at sea

I'd give you my lungs so you could breathe

“Come on Toms, stay with me now.” Pulling with all their might, y/n grappled the thin boy through the water as they fought to swim against the current in the rising dawn. As they crawled onto the sandy shores, the heavy weight of being completely soaked left them restless on the beach. Taking a moment to breathe, y/n gathered their strength before rushing to Tommy’s side.

“Come on, Tommy. You can’t do this to me now.” Y/n laid him completely flat and started to push his chest in rhythmic beats, shoving down as hard as they could to save him.

He was already incredibly pale from the cold depths of the water, and y/n could only assume he had been in the water for some time before they arrived.

Every so often they would glance to discern any movement or change but would go back to focusing on reviving their brother entirely. As more time passed and Tommy refused to move, Y/n grew frustrated and speed up their pace harshly, tears clouding their vision despite their resolution. “Please, Tommy. Please. I can’t lose another one of you. Not again.”

With a sudden twitch, Tommy jerked before coughing up water and trembling with the rush of air to his lungs. Y/n looked up to the green horizon and closed their eyes in relief, tears streaming down their cheeks before they reached down to hold the boy close. Gently bring him into their arms and caressing his long wet hair, Tommy continued to draw breaths with his arm hung limply around them. He clutched the fabric on their shoulder, whimpering in a small voice,

“Y/n? Are you really here this time?” Y/n squeezed him tighter.

“It’s really me, Toms. I’m here. And I’m never leaving you again.”

And if we hit on troubled water

I'll be the one to keep you warm and safe

“This is not a trial, Technoblade.” Quackity motioned to the anvil strung above the stage, beaming at the seething piglin through the bars of the cage. “This is an execution. We are going to kill you.”

Hidden beneath the breath of night while under the effects of the invisible potion, y/n observed from the roof of a nearby house. Although they kept their distance from everyone in their family besides Tommy, y/n couldn’t ignore the apparent ‘Butcher Army’ when they passed through the forest where they were collecting wood, their brother strung behind them as if on a leash.

Y/n glared at the immaturity of the young boys, despising the belief that more death will create peace in a land built on bloodshed. While their relationship with Technoblade was rough considering their last encounter, they couldn’t deny the fact that he had a right to hold his certain principles and acted out in aggression to the others’ mistreatment; though arguably to an extreme.

Their gaze shifted when the mercenary, Punz, announced his arrival with thrown snowballs and began spreading TNT as an apparent distraction. Deciding to aid in the diversion, y/n pulled arrows out of their quiver and aimed to target the boys when they tried to assault him.

“Where the hell did that come from?!” Fundy screeched out in revelation after barely managing to dodge an incoming arrow to the leg. Despite all efforts, Quackity realized their intentions and ran to pull the level. As he let out a joyous shout, y/n dropped their bow in fear, eyes trained on the falling anvil before it was meant to strike and scrambled to their feet. To their astonishment and utter relief, a faint, green glow emitted once Technoblade was supposedly killed. The Blood God had escape death. What a surprise.

Y/n watched as Technoblade climbed swiftly out of the cage and followed a green figure mounted on his horse through a tunnel hidden beneath a stone hill. They knew from pass whispers and Tommy’s harsh words that it was the warrior, Dream, having had only seen the daunting smiling face in a blur during the war. They were aware of the torment the man had caused to their family, both in the war and in Tommy’s exile.

Sliding down the tile roof, y/n jumped off the building and maneuvered their way down, ignoring the stare of their imprisoned father on top of the nearby balcony as the potion’s effects started to fade. They noticed Quackity trace the foot steps of Technoblade’s hooves, and stalked behind him as he entered the small hole. Pausing before leaping in themself, y/n looked up to see Dream already staring down at them, arms crossed and in wait.

He stared at them expectantly, which made y/n’s patience wear thin once hearing Quackity lowly state how he planned to kill Technoblade then and there. Narrowing their eyes in annoyance, y/n gave Dream a final glare and blocked off the entrance once entering.

They pulled out their axe and treaded quietly down the tunnel before pausing behind the broken wall to an old vault full of chests.

“—nd I don’t care how long it fucking takes me, or what I have to do to get you, Techno. I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“I just have on question, Quackity.” Technoblade paused as Quackity asked him to continue.

“Do you think you’re enough, to kill me? Even unarmed, with iron armor?” They both ever so slightly gripped their weapons tighter, stance shifted as they prepared to fight.

“You know what? Let’s fucking find out, you son of a bitch!” Their weapons clashed as they dodged the blow from one another. Quackity delivered each blow with blind determination while Technoblade played defense with each graceful side step. Eventually, Technoblade knocked his pickaxe into his face, Quackity yelping in pain and holding a hand to cover the wound.

When turning his back to move further down the tunnel, Technoblade risked leaving himself vulnerable to the crazed butcher. Quackity stood despite his injury and tried to attack him from behind.

Y/n took the opportunity to run towards him, axe prepared to strike. Before Quackity could turn to defend himself, y/n swung the axe into his neck. Blood instantly pooled at the cut as he struggled to breathe, and y/n ripped their blade from his flesh. He fell to his knees while grasping helplessly at his wound, choking on his blood before falling to the side.

While they had a distaste for violence, unlike their brother, y/n couldn’t excuse the attempted murder of their family by any means.

Technoblade stared in reverence, eyes darting between Quackity’s slump figure and his sibling covered in an excessive amount of blood from the attack. Y/n stepped forward and grabbed a lead from their belt, having previously found it abandoned in the snow. No words were exchanged as they silently pulled Carl through the sewer system, blood casually staining the water as they walked through. Technoblade only spoke once they reach the surface.

“Pog.”

And we'll be carrying each other

Until we say goodbye on our dying day

“Are you alright, y/n?”

Broken sobs become shuddered breathes as y/n hears the voice of their late brother. They lifted their eyes from beneath their arms that held their legs together while pushed against the very corner of the room, their current position reminding Ghostbur how small anyone could look when upset. Ghostbur slightly frowned at their lack of response, floating closer to them to observe their tears, lighting the space slightly with a soft glow.

“What’s wrong?” Despite the innocence behind his echoed voice, y/n couldn’t help the pain from hearing his concern. “Nothing that matters, Ghostbur. Nothing that anyone could fix anyway.”

Ghostbur didn’t like that response, refusing to believe that sadness could exist without a solution to bring an end to despair. He reached into his pocket, hands carefully holding some dye out towards y/n.

Y/n tilted their head in confusion, tears having stopped running but still present. “What is it?”

“It’s blue! Here, here, take some.” Ghostbur placed the colored substance into their cupped palms, explaining its significance with a gentle smile. “See, when someone is very angry or sad, the blue sucks away all your sadness and turns blue! And what you can do, is you can throw the blue away, and that’s all your sadness gone.”

Although strange and futile, y/n couldn’t help the smile form on their face from Ghostbur’s clarification. Ghostbur gasped excessively, causing y/n to chuckle lightly. “It worked! Do you feel better now, y/n? I have more blue if you need as well!” Pulling an incredible amount that began to pile on the floor in front of them, y/n giggled at the sight.

Y/n wiped their eyes with the back of their hand, breathing in and out to recollect themself. “Thank you, Ghostbur. Never change your wonderful self.” The ghost grinned brightly at that.

“Of course, Y/n! Never change your caring self either!”

Oh brother, we'll go deeper than the ink

Beneath the skin of our tattoos

“I have to ask, Y/n. Why choose them?” Y/n stood before Dream in their kitchen, the man having had shown up unannounced at their front door and began asking vague questions.

“What do you mean?” Y/n was unnerved by his demeanor, never having held a conversation, let alone utter a word, with him before despite small, yet silent encounters. They refused to show discomfort, though they didn’t have a mask to cover every waver in their voice or their jaw visibly tighten.

“Oh, you know.” He turned to walk around the small living space, hand skimming over a chest surface before continuing to speak ominously. “Time and time again, I’ve seen you run and fall to your knees for your so-called family. Yet as time continues on, I’ve seen them give you nothing in return.” He paused and faced them again. “What’s the point of saving something that does nothing but hold you down?”

Though we don't share the same blood

Y/n crossed their arms in defiance, finally understanding his intentions and glowered at his objective.

“You wouldn’t understand, Dream. Even if you tried.” He looked confused at their response, tilting his head slighting while his masked continued the same haunting smile. Y/n smirked.

“Your seen weakness gives me strength. I fight for everything because of them. Your lack of attachment leaves you nothing to gain.” Dream bent forward in mocking interest, though y/n knew better than to give in. “Is that so?”

“You tell me. Who will come running to your aid when your lies eventually catch up, and everyone realizes the things you’ve planned behind their backs?”

“I have my ways. Ways that insure I’ll have people on my side when I need.”

Y/n scowled before stepping forwards, leaning into his face. “Say whatever you need to say to comfort the idea of your downfall. I don’t care about you or your motives, leave my family alone or I will personally see to it you meet your expected end before its fated to happen.” Dream let out an amused breath in response. “Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise."

You're my brother and I love you that's the truth

#dream smp x reader #dream smp x you #dream smp fanfiction #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x you #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #sbi x reader #sbi x you #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #brother!tommy x reader #brother!wilbur x reader #brother!technoblade x reader #sbi x gn!reader

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lepusrufus · 3 years

Text

Double edged scalpel ch.4

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3

Summary: Daniela wingman Dimitrescu

---

Who knew that a door could look so intimidating. The dark wood decorated with golden floral patterns and the Dimitrescu crest in the middle wasn’t unlike most other doors in the castle. This door however had one big difference from the rest: it was the door to Cassandra’s bedroom.

Nicole had crossed paths with Daniela earlier, who wasted no time in placing the duty of fetching the middle sister for dinner upon her. Oh well. She was supposed to meet the brunette anyways. Tomorrow at sundown, Cassandra had said. And that was just after dinner. But the lingering feeling of their lips together, deep in a hidden nook in the garden, left Nicole unsure on what to expect from her.

With a final deep breath, she knocked on the door.

It was silent for a few long seconds. She was about to knock again, sure that Cassandra was still sleeping, but was stopped by a groggy reply that she took as her cue to enter.

“Lady Daniela sent me to let you know dinner will be ready soon.”

Nicole had a split second when she regretted each and every decision that led up to that very moment when she noticed the brunette stirring awake, naked body thankfully covered by soft blankets. Cassandra didn’t seem to mind though, as she yawned and stretched her arms like a lazy cat would.

“That’s a weird way to say Daniela is lazy and sent you to do her job.” She grabbed her watch from the nightstand. “Ugh, it’s early.” It’s 7 p.m.

From where she stood, looking anywhere but at the brunette, Nicole wasn’t sure how to respond. It’s not as if she could’ve said no to Daniela’s request. Or, to be more accurate, order. Apparently Cassandra didn’t wait for a reply, as she got out of bed and shuffled to her dresser, hopefully to put some clothes on. With one of her typical black dresses now on, she tiptoed to the other occupant in the room.

“Modest, are we,” she said, placing her hands on Nicole’s waist, not unlike she did many times before.

“Just trying not to get my eyes gouged out.” Hopefully Cassandra still appreciated her humor.

The brunette slowly spinned the other girl around so she could look in her eyes, as if she were a child inspecting a newly received christmas gift. “Mm...you can keep them. Now come on, spend some time with me since Dani insisted on you waking me up so early.”

Thanks Daniela.

Nicole felt herself get pulled further into the room, barely having time to take in all the trinkets and decor inside before she was tugged down to sit in Cassandra’s lap.

Well… best possible scenario.

This time there was no hesitation when their lips connected, one hand finding its place at the brunette's nape, pulling her close. Cassandra let out a small moan when she felt nails scratch lightly against her scalp, which Nicole took as an opportunity to slip her tongue past black painted lips. They kissed until Cassandra pulled back, opting instead to leave a trail of kisses and black lipstick on her jawline, down her throat, and finally her collarbone. The kisses were getting increasingly more aggressive, with nips at the skin and finally teeth dragging at the crook of Nicole's neck.

Cassandra inhaled deeply but pulled her mouth away from the skin, resting her forehead against that spot instead. When she spoke, her tone was dripping with barely held back desire.

"If you want me to stop, you should go."

Oh no, Nicole didn't just shove her tongue in her god damn mouth for them to stop. Whatever crumble of self preservation was left within her, it got booted out the metaphorical front door of her brain the moment she got pulled into the brunette's lap. The only thing that made her hesitate for a second was whether or not Cassandra could bite someone without actually killing them.

"Do not go near the jugular.”

And Cassandra listened. She dragged her teeth from the neck, down to the shoulder and, after an uncharacteristically gentle kiss to the spot, she sunk her now sharp fangs in the flesh.

Nicole couldn't stop a whimper from escaping past her lips at the sudden jolt of pain. But the sensation of soft lips on her skin and Cassandra's low moan at the taste of her blood made for the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain.

"Cassa- ah," she moaned her name, fingers tangled in black hair which only seemed to spur her on.

The pain steadily faded, leaving behind only a tingling sensation. It stopped her brain from putting together any coherent thought, almost as if being drunk without the actual alcohol. But blood loss instead. Nicole tugged lightly on Cassandra's hair when dizziness started to make itself present. When that did nothing, she pulled with slightly more force.

"Cassandra-" she let out a pained groan, mild panic slipping into her voice.

That made the brunette snap out of it, forcefully pulling herself back and eyeing the bloody mess on Nicole's shoulder. She caught the redhead by the arms for support when she slumped forward slightly, pinching the bridge of her nose with a soft ugh. How much blood can a human lose again? Fourteen percent? And Nicole was also quite small.

Cassandra stretched to grab a tissue from the nightstand and pressed it against the puncture wounds, frowning when Nicole flinched at the pain it caused.

"Uh...are you okay?"

Nicole took a deep breath before replying. "-m good. You should...uh go though. I'll go lay down and-...and meet you after dinner." Then she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment to try to alleviate the dizziness and tried to stand up.

Cassandra grimaced at how wobbly Nicole's movement's were and guided her back down, on the soft mattress. The redhead didn't protest, not that she really could anyways.

"No. Stay here, you're no good if you just fall and crack your skull open against a stairwell."

"But-"

Cassandra ignored her, only pushing her down to rest against one of the many pillows littering the bed. "No buts, this is an order from your lady. Now take a nap or something and I'll fetch you after dinner."

Nicole saw her turn around and exit the room, door shutting with a heavy thump. She felt too dizzy to try and fight back. And after all, why would she? The bed was incredibly soft, almost as if it was cradling her small body, inviting her to fall asleep. She slowly pulled one of the blankets up to her waist and positioned herself in such a way that the tissue wouldn't fall from her shoulder. A short nap was all she needed, then she'd be up by the time dinner was done. It only took shutting her eyes for a few seconds to fall asleep, the haze in her mind receding into comforting nothingness.

---

Hot. She felt so incredibly hot. How could Cassandra sleep amongst all these pillows and blankets in the middle of August?

She groaned and stirred, tissue forgotten and covered in dry blood by now. She turned around, trying to find a colder spot and sighed contently upon finding a cool pillow to bury her face into.

Since when did pillows hum?

Nicole snapped her eyes open and jerked backwards, realizing that the "pillow" was Cassandra's side, who apparently had returned from dinner and was now laying in bed with a book.

"I- I'm sorry! I think I overslept and-"

She was interrupted by a slender finger on her lips.

"Get back here, you're so warm."

Too warm, Nicole almost replied but Cassandra's hand mowed from her lips to trace her jawline and neck. Then,when it got to her nape, she pulled the redhead back on her chest, cheek resting on the cool skin.

Nicole froze for a moment but soon melted into the touch. Presumably one of the perks of being an undead being was never getting too hot. At least temperature-wise. She tentatively snaked an arm around the brunette's waist and, when there was no protest, she shifted her body closer against hers.

Checking the time didn't even occur to Nicole until her eyes fell on one of the windows, noticing it was pitch black beyond the glass.

"Shouldn't we have…" she just vaguely gestured, not even sure what they were supposed to do that day in the dungeons.

"Here's one of the perks of working with me darling: if I don't feel like doing anything then congratulations, you've got yourself a day off. Now why don't you enjoy it hmm."

She emphasized her words by bringing her free hand to Nicole's head, nails lightly scratching the scalp. But Nicole was wide awake, despite the pleasant sensation that elicited a content hum from her.

There were so many things to take in that she hadn't noticed earlier. Just like her study, Cassandra's bedroom was like a collection of glimpses into her. The desk was littered with papers and oddly modern drawing supplies, the kind you would get by entering the art supply store down the road from her college dorm. A mannequin in the corner of the room was wearing a most likely tailor made dress, complete with what looked like a matching sword. The wall she could see was half covered in bookshelves, half in deer antlers or horns of different animals. Some had labels with dates underneath them that were too far to read, but Nicole managed to decipher one that said 08.06.1982.

She didn't want to risk losing her precious head scratches in order to explore the other half of the room, so her eyes settled on the one thing she could see without moving. The book in Cassandra's other hand.

"What're you reading?"

Cassandra sighed, realizing that she was still awake but answered anyway.

"Watership down."

She giggled, still a bit lightheaded. "Bunnies…"

Cassandra rolled her eyes, not quite in the mood to go on a lengthy discourse about the themes of said "bunnies". She opted to change the topic instead, voice oddly soft.

"How's your head?"

"Mmm...dizzy."

"Sleep then."

"My room is too far away."

"Sleep here you dumbass."

Nicole was silent for a few moments, putting together the few coherent thoughts still lingering in her brain. Then, trying not to slur her words due to dizziness and sleepiness alike:

"Isn't that against protocol? Do you even have a protocol?"

"The protocol is that our staff serves my family. Right now you're keeping me warm. There, congratulations on performing your duties. Now go to sleep."

The redhead gave in, too tired to keep on annoying Cassandra. She nuzzled her face closer to the brunette's neck leaving a small peck on her collarbone and closed her eyes. The nails still scratching at her scalp, occasionally moving to run through long auburn locks proved more than efficient at lulling her to sleep. She could swear she felt a soft, almost imperceptible kiss on the top of her head before consciousness fully slipped away from her

#cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #unhinged maiden™ my beloved #fanfic #double edged scalpel #are we finally getting a to move faster #fk yes

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pippytmi · 3 years

Note

Howdy! For the little au trope prompt ask. 2, 2, 39. Supercorp please. Thank you! (Hope it helps your writer's block!)

Everyone knows that when the Quidditch season starts, rivalries begin.

As a general rule, Lena doesn’t mind the Gryffindors. If she had to pick a house she hated, the Slytherins would be the unfortunate lot; Veronica Sinclair and Andrea Rojas alone give the group a bad name. (That could be Lena’s own personal bias, given the fact that both girls have broken her heart, but she maintains it goes far deeper than that). But the point stands—Lena isn’t a hateful person. Generally.

There is just something about Kara Danvers that brings it out of her. The one and only Gryffindor that Lena despises is that moronic, reckless Chaser who scores nearly every single goal she takes. The Ravenclaw team is nothing to sneeze at either, but Lena hates that of all people to throw her off her game, it is a girl who blew up her broom when attempting to fly on it during her first year. Seven years that she has known Kara, and still Lena is annoyed at the mere sight of those perpetually-askew glasses, those untucked robes, that undone tie; Kara Danvers is never expected to be poised and perfect, even with all the expectations on her shoulders. She’s just so...blasé. People talk about Kara like she is destined to join a Quidditch team straight out of Hogwarts and all Kara does is stroll into the Great Hall on game day with her head in the clouds.

So far up the clouds that she apparently can’t watch where she is going, either. Lena throws Kara the nastiest glare she can muster when they just about knock each other’s heads together, but all Kara does at the sight of it is grin. She always grins, not in a way that is arrogant or snide, but stupidly amused. Stupidly amused, as if everything Lena says or does is a bloody laugh, like Lena’s simmering hatred is nothing more than an inside joke.

“Hey, Luthor,” Kara says cheerfully, and there she goes, pushing those crooked glasses up her nose. There is a scratch on one lens, and Kara has either not noticed or not bothered to repair it. “Trying to take out the competition a little early, even for you.”

“You were the one in my way, Danvers,” Lena replies tightly.

“Was I?” And here is the kicker, that golden girl charm that fools everyone: bright blue eyes peeking out beneath those eyelashes, hand rubbing at the back of her neck, undone tie slipping an inch further. Kara tilts her head unassumingly as if that is even an actual question.

It makes Lena furious. “Here’s a tip,” she says, “for here and the Quidditch field. Maybe if you got your head out of your ass, you could actually see where you’re headed.”

Kara has the audacity to look affronted. “Is this because of the Brainy incident during training? Because he and I agreed that it was a joint effort. Joint…blame. Whatever you call it.”

Lena rolls her eyes. “Just keep your aggression to yourself, Danvers,” she mutters, and then she resolutely brushes past. She has no time for blank, witty banter, especially when this is the year’s first game and she has a team to rally.

“My—? Hey,” Kara’s voice rings out, louder than necessary, and that idiot is actually following her. “Hey, wait. Lena. Do you seriously think I’m aggressive? It was an accident! Both times!” A beat. “I mean both the Brainy thing and right now. I didn’t knock into Brainy twice. I did knock James off his broom once, but you probably don’t care about that since he’s not from your house, so…well anyway, just so you know, that was also an accident.”

“I have zero interest in your training squabbles,” Lena says exasperatedly, “and you’d do well to keep that in mind.”

“Oh so this is about the Brainy incident,” Kara says. “How many times do I have to say that the training pitch was ours?”

“According to you,” Lena counters. With that she whirls around, nearly colliding into Kara’s chest, but she still manages to lift her head up high and stare down that egotistical jackass. “I know you might think you’re entitled to any space you waltz into, but some of us mere mortals actually schedule training sessions. You know, like we’re supposed to.”

“I did schedule the—!” Kara has a tendency to become flustered mid-argument, it seems, because her mouth opens but no words come blustering out. Finally she settles on scowling when she declares, “You are a piece of work, you know that? Would it kill you to apologize to me once in a while?”

“That would imply that you have apologized to me at some point,” Lena scoffs. “Which you haven’t, for the record.”

“Yes I have,” Kara is quick to disagree.

Lena crosses her arms; it’s a challenge, and Kara immediately stands a little straighter when she notices. “Oh?” Lena prompts. “Like when?”

“Like…when I knocked into Brainy.”

“I fail to see how I fit in that scenario,” Lena says, “since you didn’t break my nose.”

Kara gives a little huff, as if this back and forth is all so inconvenient right now; as if she hasn’t instigated it. “Okay, but I apologized for disrupting your practice, remember? I took complete responsibility even though it was your fault you couldn’t keep track of when your team was scheduled—”

“That was not an apology. You literally said ‘Sorry Luthor, we need this more than you do’ and then refused to leave for the next half hour!”

“But I said sorry in there, ergo, it is an apology.”

“Well then, when my team beats yours to dust I’ll be sure to apologize properly for that in that exact same sympathetic manner,” Lena sneers.

Somehow, trash talk only makes that dumb, signature Kara Danvers grin come back, completely wiping away any sign of vexation. “Oh yeah? Tell me more, wise old Ravenclaw—”

Before Lena can even begin to dissect that childish comeback (and stupid sing-songy imitation of the Sorting Hat), other students come filtering down the hall and they are practically swept up in the masses. One kid completely shoulders Lena before she even realizes what’s happening; she stumbles to the left, nearly collides with the wall, and opens her mouth to shout, but then:

“Hey!” Kara is already brandishing her wand with one hand and catching the boy’s collar with the other. “Ten points from Hufflepuff! You could’ve hurt someone, walking around without looking where you’re going.”

Lena bites her tongue to stop from making a quip on how ironic that statement is, because Kara is engrossed in a stare-off with the pimply sixth year who is demanding to see her prefect badge to prove Kara can even take points. She would normally side with the kid—anything to knock Kara Danvers down a peg—but, well. For once, Lena can’t be bothered to actively hate someone getting into a heated argument on her behalf.

Two minutes later and the boy stomps off with ten points gone from his house and a detention to boot. Kara, meanwhile, is still frowning as he leaves. “Are you okay?” she asks absentmindedly, still tracking the kid’s every movement with her eyes. “I swear, if there weren’t so many witnesses I would’ve hexed him.”

“Winning move for a prefect, I’m sure,” Lena says dryly, and Kara turns towards her with that slow-growing buffoonish smile and another sheepish nudge of her glasses. Her next words kind of just fall out, almost as if she’d never formed them in her mouth but in the deep recesses of her subconscious alone: “You know, you confuse me.”

“Huh?” Another nudge. The smile slips a fraction, but just enough to show Kara is slightly confused by the change in subject.

You confuse me, Lena wants to repeat. You are the opposite of self-aware. You are messy, and reckless, and selfless whenever it counts and it’s confusing because all I can really hate you for is being able to get away with being imperfect and still be adored by everyone.

But none of those words, thankfully, leave her head. All she says is, “Your approach to discipline confuses me. It’s not like he purposely tried to run into me—ten points might have been too harsh.”

“This coming from the girl who once threatened to curse me into oblivion for tripping her when we were twelve?” Kara’s eyebrows shoot up. “Who are you and what have you done to Lena Luthor? No, hold on, I know. You’re really Jess in disguise, right?”

“Hilarious, Danvers. I wouldn’t quit Quidditch, it might be the only place you’re suited for,” Lena mocks, but all Kara does is laugh.

“Nope, definitely Lena,” Kara says, and the way she says it is almost…fond. Come to think of it, Lena can’t remember a time where Kara actually called her Lena. It’s always Luthor and Danvers and stop breaking the faces of my best players and never—never anything else.

Lena clears her throat and looks away; she can’t take another second of those warm, bright eyes. “Whatever,” she says. “I…guess I’ll see you on the pitch.”

“Sure thing,” Kara says, and she takes a step back, tucking her wand into her pocket. “I’ll be the one rocking the winning team uniform.”

Slowly, Lena begins to feel the corner of her mouth twitch. Completely unbidden, completely unpredictable. “Dream on, Danvers.” She allows the space between them to grow, but their eyes remain locked, and the air feels heavy—thick—and the weight of their shared gaze holds a meaning Lena can’t possibly unpack right now.

But Kara’s tongue pokes out between her teeth cheerfully, and she doesn’t appear half as bothered by this development. “Always, if you’re in them,” she says, twists a little on her heel to walk away, but she pauses while she is still in earshot. “You know—next time you can just thank me for defending you.”

“You mean abusing your power as a prefect,” Lena replies automatically even as her head is running a mile a minute; even as Kara is getting farther and farther away and the scratch on her glasses lens catches the light.

“That too!” Kara shouts as she gets lost in the crowd, and damn her, Lena has to put her hand over her mouth to hide the absolute idiotic smile that has formed on her own face.

(Joint blame indeed, Lena muses, and she figures that she might as well form a rivalry with the Slytherins instead of the Gryffindors after all).

#this is both a threat and a reminder that im still working on these #😌😌😌#supercorp #supergirl #bisexualgoof #i need a fic tag #disclaimer that i still do not know anything about hp #im doing more research on harry potter than i do writing smh

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hongism · 3 years

Text

the little things - c.san

↣ pairing: san x reader; poly ot8 x reader ↣ genre: sfw, fluff, slight angst, fantasy au, witch ateez au ↣ wc: 3.3k ↣ summary: one of your favorite things to do is look at the stars with san ↣ warnings: none !

“You’re out rather early.”

You don’t turn towards the source of the voice; just hearing him speak is enough of a clue for you to know exactly who it is. Although, even if he hadn’t spoken, you’re sure you would have known from the flutter of wings that resounded before his arrival.

“The stars are prettiest right before dawn breaks,” you sigh, hugging your arms a bit tighter around your knees. Your new companion moves forward and comes to a stop beside you. He doesn’t sit down quite yet; for a while, he merely stands at your side and stares up at the same sky hanging above your heads. The time is roughly four o’clock in the morning — a late night for you and an early morning for San — but your words hold true. The glimmering stars are tucked behind fluffy and luscious clouds that seem to herald coming rain, and they shine against a midnight blue background that seems infinitely deep.

San sinks down to sit beside you at last, tossing his legs over the lip of the stone wall you’re perched on, and he sways his legs in rhythm with an unknown melody. You squeeze your knees as you press your cheek to one of them, enough to have a clear view of San’s pretty side profile against a landscape of green pine trees and shining stars.

“I thought you were out here to look at the stars,” San whispers. He glances at you out the corner of his eye. There’s no malice in his speech, just a hint of teasing, and you can’t keep your lips from quirking into a smile.

“I’m looking at you instead.”

“I should be the one looking at you, little star.” San turns his chin to face you, and his dimples flash as he grins back through the hazy moonlit night. “Our precious star,” he murmurs before reaching a hand out to trace over your forehead, slipping down to your temple then to your cheek and dragging the pads of his fingers over your skin in an unknown pattern.

“Why are you up so early?”

“Waiting for Hongjoong,” San says through a sigh. His hand retracts as quickly as it made contact, and you can’t pretend to be oblivious as to why. Things are always… harsh for San when Hongjoong is gone. It’s much worse when it’s a job like Hongjoong’s current one where the witch has to be gone for weeks at a time. Then San becomes quite volatile and hard to deal with — it only makes sense when a familiar is separate from his master for so long. Seonghwa tries to do damage control every time, tries to use techniques that normally help his own familiar Yeosang calm down, but they never work for San. Hongjoong is the only person and thing that can quell the anxieties and worries and stress that flow through San’s veins in times like these. And seeing as they are a bonded pair, it makes the connection of sharing emotional states weaker. They can’t share emotions this far apart, and that weighs heavily on San’s shoulders after being so used to sharing his heart in such a way for so long. Even if Hongjoong has a tendency to cut San off from feeling the brunt of his negative emotions, there’s still a lingering knowledge that the other is right there, just within grasp.

Not now, however.

San has gone three long weeks without even a breath of a whisper from Hongjoong.

And tonight (this morning? Today? Whatever time it may be) the witch is supposed to return. San’s nerves must be getting to him if he’s out this early because usually he would curl up in Hongjoong’s bed and await the witch there, presenting himself like a neatly wrapped present for the other to unravel with warm kisses and soft touches.

San clenches his fingers blindly around the lip of the wall.

“Tell me a story?” You inquire out of the blue. Your eyes shift to look up at the sky again. San huffs out a weak laugh.

“What kind?”

“Hm, how you and Hongjoong met?”

A risky choice, maybe, but you know how near and dear that tale is to San’s heart, and how much comfort it brings him in simply thinking of it. So it is also a very wise choice on your behalf. San’s lips twitch into the shadow of a smile.

“You’ve heard it so many times already…”

“I’ll give you something in return,” you coo, reaching out to pinch the skin around San’s elbow. He yelps like a kicked dog and offers up a deep pout that has you ready to tease him further.

“Seven kisses.”

“Seven?” You echo. Confusion slips into your tone. You can’t recall any significance to the number seven, nor can you remember whether it’s supposed to have special meaning.

“One for each time I’ve told you this story,” San murmurs, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to the tip of your nose. You scowl at the faint sensation as a laugh nearly escapes you, but you manage to bite it back enough to smile again.

“I always forgot how good a crow’s memory is.”

“Ravens remember well too, little star.”

You poke your tongue out between your lips in his direction, and San merely laughs at your expression before shifting closer to you. He loops a hand around one of yours, pulling it away from the leg you have propped up on the rock wall, then he loops his fingers through yours.

“Several hundred winters ago, this land we live in now held very different values and laws. The people were cruel and brash, only using their fists and crude weapons to handle gathering food and protecting their women and children. No one imagined there was any other way of doing things — the people knew nothing of what gentle prowess magic could offer.” San glances over at you, drawing a laugh from your lips when he makes eye contact with you. You shake your head ever so slightly.

“I didn’t mean for you to give me the version that’s in books and legends…”

San dares to giggle at that, and a moment later, he’s shifting his position so that he can rest his head against your thigh and look up at the stars like that. You have to push your other leg down to accommodate the shift, and once San is comfortably staring up at the sky with you, he begins speaking again.

“I was alone. It wasn’t something new; I was used to it at that point. Ravens don’t have the longest lifespan, and I was still a young familiar at the time. I had no owner or master. My mother’s master left our nest after she passed, leaving me with two sisters who were sick and close to death. They were too ill to shift to their human forms, so I couldn’t bring them to an apothecary or village. Ravens are seen as bad omens after all; had I brought them to a town, they would have been killed on the spot. I spent some time going between our nest and the nearest village, stealing food and medicine where I could because I couldn’t afford it. I worked some too, little odd jobs here and there, but it was a lot of delivery work. Made it easy to steal thankfully. Then… well, one day, I got too bold and tried pickpocketing a high-ranking guardsman. He was some lieutenant or something like that, I don’t remember. Too many years have passed since then. But I got caught trying to lift some coin off him in a bar, and he grabbed me by the arm and dragged me out to the streets. He was planning on killing me right then and there with no trial, but some short little witch came stalking up without a care in the world and knocked the guard on his ass. He was going on and on about how rude it is to grab random people off the street like that.”

“Of course he would,” you murmur, a bit of fondness slipping into your tone. “Don’t let him catch you calling him short though.”

“Eh, he’ll survive. In any case, when the guard tried explaining that I was trying to pickpocket him, this witch extended a hand to me and asked if I needed help. I naturally said no because I didn’t think I could trust him, then took off running. I went back to my nest in the hopes of finding my sisters and telling them to get out of the area, yet when I got there, they were already gone. It had been nearly two years since my mother passed, so they were well enough to do things on their own at that point, but they’d never up and left like that without warning. I couldn’t do anything but stay and wait for their return. We’d gathered some food and supplies, so I was able to live off of it for several months before needing to depart for more again. The entire time, not once did my sisters return. They just… disappeared into thin air. I waited every day, wondered when they would come back, and some nights I would stay awake all night flying around the area in search of them.”

“That part always breaks my heart,” you whisper. Stretching a hand down, you drag your fingers along the curve of San’s cheekbones then his jaws, torn away from the stars as you look at the familiar.

“Why? Had it not happened, I wouldn’t be here.”

“I know but…”

“But Hongjoong found me,” San continues through a smile. You huff but let him finish the story, pointedly ignoring the curling grin he sends your way. “After a few months, I started noticing magical residue near my nest. And sure enough, that little witch from before was setting up camp nearby. I did nothing at first, watched him from afar for a while, then I got brave enough to try to lift a few things from his camp. That turned out to be quite the mistake because he caught me within three seconds of setting foot into that camp. And yet… instead of threatening to kill me or harming me, the little witch simply asked if I was alone. ”Are you alone? Do you have anyone with you? A master? I feel your magical energy yet it doesn’t seem normal. You must be a familiar. Where is your master?“ When I said I had no master and was on my own, the little witch was… hm, I would say he was both confused and concerned. Said it was no good for a familiar to go without a master. Without one, I would die within a few years. He suggested that I hurry along with finding one, and I explained I had absolutely no one else in my life.”

“And after that?”

San hums to himself a bit, bringing his hands up above his head as he stares at the night sky. A delicate little smile graces his pretty lips and squeezes his dimples out, but he doesn’t speak any other words for quite some time. The next voice you hear doesn’t even belong to him.

“After that, I invited San to spend some time in my care and work an honest job for me before going on his way to finding a master.”

Hongjoong.

You twist your neck towards the source of the voice, finding the witch standing a little ways away from the wall you and San are currently seated on, and he grins through the moonlit night at you. San jolts upwards at the sound of his master. The smile that splits his lips is so broad and heartwarming that it feels too intimate to look at, even for you who shares in their love for one another. It’s different for them, and you know that, even if it’s just a different strain of the same love, it’s different nonetheless. San hops off the wall in one swift move, closing the distance between his and Hongjoong’s bodies within seconds.

“As it turns out, we were…we did quite well together. And thus, here we are,” Hongjoong says as he lets San press his nose into the curve of his neck. “I’m sorry I was gone so long. Had to make a few extra stops along the way to gather some supplies. How was he?” Hongjoong directs the words to you, watching with careful yet loving eyes as you pull yourself down from the wall as well and step closer to him and San. The familiar will be like this for a while; unmoving and unresponsive as he soaks in Hongjoong’s presence again and drowns himself in the sensation of having all those feelings doubled once more. Hongjoong will try to ease the burden as much as he can for both their sake, and you’ll do what you do best: taking care of both of them when it gets to be too overwhelming. While Seonghwa and Yeosang (who don’t go a long time without each other anyway) don’t have to deal with this type of ordeal, Hongjoong and San always do. Hongjoong thinks it has something to do with how frequent his trips are, or perhaps the lingering sensation of separation anxiety that San suffers from given his past. Either way, it makes their reunions that much more emotionally taxing and intense. Even you, who has not a drop of magical ability in your body, can feel the sheer power radiating off them both right in this moment.

“You came home at the right time. He was getting antsy,” you murmur back, reaching up to comb your fingers through the long hair at the base of San’s scalp.

“Next time I’ll leave you all with a bit more of a safety net.”

“Or you could come back sooner.”

Hongjoong nearly rolls his eyes, and you catch the way he stops himself just beforehand. The annoyance in his features is nothing serious, only something because he’s heard such words a hundred times over.

“No doubt you haven’t slept yet?” He inquires, trying his best to make his way to the door of the coven’s home. San proves to be quite the obstruction, as it seems, and Hongjoong has to hoist the slightly larger man up enough to loop his legs around the smaller’s waist. Hongjoong grunts from the added weight but manages to carry San the rest of the way with no other complaints. You trail along beside them, taking care of opening the door and grabbing Hongjoong’s satchel once inside.

“Welcome home, my sweet starlight. I see our star and bird found you before I could.” Seonghwa is the first to greet the three of you upon stepping inside. You only notice Yeosang’s sleek black cat form slinking around the hearth witch’s ankles when you’re helping Hongjoong out of his shoes.

“Mm, they were waiting outside,” Hongjoong mumbles into the chaste kiss Seonghwa delivers to his lips. Seonghwa also places a sweet kiss on the back of San’s head before Hongjoong steps around the taller man, continuing to carry San as he goes.

“Mingi fell asleep in your bed last night, so don’t be surprised if you find him there,” Seonghwa calls out over his shoulder. You stretch up to your tiptoes in front of him, half-expecting the kiss that he presses to your lips a few seconds later, but the sudden appearance of Yeosang’s human form popping up on your left is much less expected. You nearly jump out of your skin, and probably would have if not for Seonghwa placing a steadying hand on your hip.

“You haven’t slept either,” Yeosang comments, nose pushing hard against your cheek. You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“No need to lecture. I’m going up with them, don’t worry.”

“I’ll come by after Jongho heads out for morning work.” Yeosang smiles a little before turning on his heel and heading back into the kitchen, no doubt where Jongho waits. Seonghwa huffs out a laugh but sends you on your way without any more conversation. You catch him slipping back into the kitchen as well just as you start climbing the stairs behind Hongjoong.

“Did San fall asleep already?” You ask after the man. You can barely see the familiar’s face from how hard he has it pressed into Hongjoong’s neck, but his eyes seem to have fallen shut at some point. He’s either basking in Hongjoong’s presence as much as he can or he’s entered a pleasant state of unconsciousness with Hongjoong’s warmth around him.

“Almost. He’s calming down some though. I’ll put him in bed with Mingi then take a bath. Care to join?”

“Such a temptress,” you snort to his back.

“I’m only joking, my dear. Keep San and Mingi company while I’m washing up for me instead? We can bathe together another day.”

“Of course darling,” you murmur, drawing a hand across his shoulders once the two of you reach his door. “Be quick though. Mingi will want some time to cuddle before he joins Jongho for yard work.”

As Seonghwa warned, Mingi is already curled up into a tight ball in the center of Hongjoong’s bed when you enter the room. It’s not hard to move his lanky limbs to the side to make room for San, and when Hongjoong eases the familiar down to the mattress, Mingi immediately takes to curling his body around the smaller man like it’s an act of pure instinct. San nuzzles into the touch, releasing a content little hum. You feel a hand brush the small of your back and jerk to look Hongjoong in the eye. Turns out, it was only a way to distract you because he captures your lips in a quick kiss that tastes a bit of honey and cinnamon. You have no time to savor the taste, however; Hongjoong pulls away just as quick and mumbles something about being quick to clean up. You bring a hand up to touch the spot where his lips just were. The smile that overtakes your face is one you can’t hold back, and now it’s your turn to be content and happy as you pull the sheets back to join Mingi and San under the covers. A large hand clamps down hard on your waist, tugging you flush against San’s chest.

“Where’s my kiss?” Mingi’s voice rises through the silence, thick and groggy from sleep. You reach around San to smack him as gently as possible on the arm.

“Go back to bed.”

“Joong home yet?”

“Mhm, he’ll be in bed in just a bit.”

“Good,” Mingi sighs. He settles back into the mattress, maintaining his hold on you around San’s body, and you twist just enough to lean over the sleeping familiar.

“Kiss,” you murmur, and Mingi rushes to meet you halfway with a cheeky grin. “Okay, now sleep. You don’t have long before you have to be up.”

It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep wrapped up in that embrace, and even when Hongjoong does finally come to bed, he doesn’t stir you from sleep except for the barest sensation of lips against your forehead. You might hear him mutter some loving words to all three of you, perhaps lingering a little while longer on San because he knows the familiar needs that reassurance and comfort right now more than ever, but once he settles down and tucks your head against his chest, a wildly comfortable and deep sleep overcomes you.

#atzinc #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #ateez x reader #san x reader #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez fic #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #choi san x reader #san fluff #san angst #san imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez drabbles #ateez drabble #ateez scenario

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revenant-dumpster-fire · 3 years

Text

Hunter (Revenant x Reader)

Part 1 of 2 of the chapter “Hunter & Prey”. [Full chapter on AO3.]

Theme: The trios game is here, and Revenant's plan comes to fruition after days of planning.

Warnings: Male dominance, threats of violence, descriptions of violence, sharp objects, pain, bipolar, depression, mania, fluff.

Reader's Notes: Revenant (Apex Legends) x Reader, reader is female.

Writing Notes: Can I write non-fluff? Maybe? Or perhaps I need to maximize fluff to balance? I guess you'll find out.

Navigation:

First Chapter | Previous Part (Styptic & Canine) | Next Part (Hunter & Prey)

Revenant manages to wake you up in the middle of the night with nothing but his incessant nuzzles and purring. His new chassis may be deluxe, but he can't seem to control how much he wants to show off all its features. He's holding you from behind, completely enveloping you in a warm hold, his nuzzles starting on the back of your neck and making their way around to the side of your neck. You've definitely slept some, but not quite enough to feel awake.

You reach up and begin lightly petting the top of his snout. His bovine skull emits a long, deep purr that can only be described as a very happy growl. He almost seems to be in a trance in his new body, as if something in the code is different, and he's acting out of something reminiscent of instinct. It's nice. He's almost like one of his prowlers. You extend your snout pets to reach from nose to the top of his head, and his purrs extend to last the length of each stroke. He leans into your pets, hoping for a firmer touch, which you try your best to comply with.

You roll over to face him, causing him to pull away a little. He looks at you with a little concern initially, like you might be upset, but you quickly quell him by holding his visage in both of your hands, pulling it close to yours. In truth, you're not sure what you're doing, but you can tell he likes it. His new silicone tongue licks your nose lightly, surprising you but not enough to make you pull away. He definitely has some software changes, whether he realizes it or not. He's definitely acting more like an animal. You slip your hands down to feel his giant mane, made of locks of fur. It feels both soft and fluffy; you can't help but run your fingers between each lock as you pet it. You work out any tangles you find, causing him to purr with delight over the free grooming. The tip of his nasal cavity presses into your nose, intentionally tickling you with his breaths.

"You should sleep," he manages to get out in his purrs.

"Nah, I'm just going to be watching the game tomorrow. You're the one who has to work." You whisper to him, massaging his neck through his fur.

He sighs a small moan at your massage, clearly giving up on his request in favor of getting more affection. He reaches out and holds your waist, softly brushing your sides in return. His head tilts up, revealing his throat. You carefully move your hand to touch it, moving all the way from the tip of his chin down to his clavicle with a soft touch. His breathing slows as you caress him, turning his purr into a low hum and vibrating in your hand. Eventually, his maw opens up, emitting a scary but relaxed hum and revealing his fangs. He's clearly enjoying every moment of it.

"Little skinsuit." You hear him mutter quietly. You pause for a moment, acknowledging him. He closes his mouth and locks eyes with you, pushing his nose into your face and huffing in it. He doesn't immediately speak, just nuzzles you on the side of your face, intentionally breathing into your ear to get you to wince from the tickling feeling. He shoves his tongue right on your face, licking you like a dog.

"Ack, what is it?" You lift your hands up to your face to defend your face from further onslaught. He pushes his snout into your hands and licks them instead. "Rev... Are you okay?"

He stops, pushing his snout through your hands and touching the tip of your nose.

"What are you supposed to taste like?" He finally utters. You're a bit taken aback by his question.

"I don't really know, why? Do I taste strange?"

"Honeysuckle. That's what I taste." He pulls you right into him, enveloping your whole body. "I haven't had a real tongue in so long. I don't remember what anything is supposed to taste like anymore." He sounds saddened by his conclusion, but you can't get your hands free to comfort him. You shove your face in his mane instead, snuggling up against him. You struggle to find any words to say, but try to come up with something.

"Hey, Revenant?" He doesn't respond, but it's safe to assume you have his attention. "I like you no matter what." You retreat into his mane as deep as your face can go, unsure of how he will react.

You feel his body heat up, and his claw cup the back of your head. His head tucks around your shoulder, and his legs surround you to pull you into his frame. His spare arm wraps around you, and his body starts to rattle in a purr. You carefully wrap your hands around his waist and softly caress it, unable to press into it like his other body with leather allows. You're stuck otherwise, so you make a small kissing gesture and noise into his mane, unsure if he hears you.

"Sleep, my little skinsuit. Before you convince me to forfeit this game." He purrs in your ear, brushing your hair with his fingers. You're not sure what he means; you've asked him to do no such thing, but you let yourself snuggle up against his heat, easily drifting to sleep as he coos at you.

• • • •

You wake up in a mess of damp fur, mouth open and now dry as a desert. You close your mouth and pull your face away from the sopping mats of fur, emitting a sound similar to a snore as you breathe through your nose again.

"Didn't realize you'd be the one to get me wet, skinsuit." Revenant teases, running his claws through his soaked mane. "Your dreams must be real fun for you to drool all over me like that." You snap to as you realize what you've done.

"Oh no, I'm sorry!" You pull away and try to dry him off with the sheets, to no avail.

"Don't be sorry, this is perfect." You ignore him, sitting up to dry him off at a better angle. He lets you, but you quickly abandon the sheet and go grab a towel from the bathroom. As you rub into his mane, he looks up with you with something that feels like a smile, but you can't be sure. Either way, he seems to be enjoying it. He lets you continue as he slowly sits up, leaning into your rubs and purring under his breath. You get as much of your drool out of his mane as possible, but eventually you finally have to give up and pull the towel away.

Revenant makes his way out of bed, satisfied by your work, although you don't feel the same. He stands tall over you, looking down at you with curiosity and adoration. He pushes his hand into your hair and rustles it.

"Don't look so dejected, you didn't ruin anything." He reads your mind; you feel like you've destroyed his favorite chassis with drool of all things. "Trust me, I was banking on you making a mess. It'll all work out in my favor. Shut off your little brain and let me do the thinking, just trust me." His voice growls seductively as he pokes the tip of your nose with his claw.

"Now, go eat before I force feed you. Your girlfriend should be here in an hour or so to watch the match with you." His voice is so smooth but growly. "I need to go prepare. Take care of yourself, skinsuit. I expect you here when I get back." And with that, he turns heels and confidently glides out the door, gone for the day.

You stare for a few moments, deeply hoping he will reappear so you can stare some more. Even his gait is so alluring, so confident, so strong. He is focused, powerful, and yet so secretive. You may not be sure how to respond to his flirtatious gestures, but knowing he is possessive of you is an honor he clearly doesn't give to many. What did you do? Does it matter? You want him to come back and make your face turn red again, tease you into forgetting about your depression, and treat you like his most prized possession. You want to make him melt with snout rubs, warm him, and delight him with your inherent shyness. You finally feel comfortable, but--more importantly--you feel attached.

You come back to reality, quickly scrambling to find the television remote, turning it on to the main event. They're still talking about Loba from the previous match, throwing up pictures all over the screen. How long can they talk about the same thing and still not run out of things to say? You sigh, knowing they will have to let up as the opening of the game starts.

You move over to the kitchenette and start warming up your leftovers. Chinese for breakfast is the sign of a good day, in your opinion. Some people say it's better the next day, but you can't wholly agree. It's different, not better or worse, but you love both. With your appetite finally back, you almost feel like waiting for it to finish, but you know showering while it heats up and cools off enough to eat is the wise choice.

• • • •

You answer the door, seeing Sherry bashfully waving to you with an unsure smile on her face.

"Hey Sherry, Rev told me he--"

"Put in a request for me to come and keep you company, right?"

"Yeah, I hope it's not too much trouble." You step aside so she can enter, which she does.

"So that's what he told you, but do you know what he really asked?" She reels around, fancying a tease as her finger twirled in the air.

"Oh no..." You trail off, already expecting something embarrassing. Sherry makes her way to the couch, throwing herself down and patting the seat next to her to invite you over.

"Oh, nothing that bad. He specifically asked me to make sure you were having a good time and safe. He requested that I not let you get sad, even if I had to--" she clears her throat, preparing to make a direct quote, "--encroach on my territory again." She giggles at the choice of words not even looking up to see your cheeks turn a light pink. He's definitely partially influenced by his software, that's the kind of thing a prowler would say if they could speak. Although, he is possessive on his own too.

"To be fair, you did shove my face in your tits right in front of him..." You sit down next to her, pulling your legs up to cross them.

"I dunno, the way his head tilted made me think he might have liked it." She throws her arms around you for a hug, relishing in pulling you in despite your pulling away.

"You're just as bad as he is." You sigh, accepting the hug that is forced on you.

"Oh? Maybe I can gang up on you with him sometime."

The innuendo isn't lost on you, making you grimace in further realization that you've surrounded yourself with people who tease you with questionable remarks. Sherry lets you go, turning her attention to the television.

"So, got any insider information on what we're about to see?" She lets you off the hook, for now.

"Well, sounds like our favorites are teamed up, for one." She beams, clearly excited at being able to root for the same team. "Second, Revenant has been teasing some grand plan for a while... apparently he's not fond of--" you nod towards Loba holding Revenant's scarf on the screen, "--that. He plans to erase it from everyone's minds."

"Not going to lie, that's the most exciting thing I've heard in ages leading up to a match." Sherry snuggles into the plush couch. It makes sense, she's been working here since before you started. Heck, she's the one who got you the job. She's probably heard everything when it comes to hype, and is likely unaffected by the commentator's excitement anymore. A Legend having some grand scheme for a match would be way more promising. "I'm just glad Revenant and Wattson are on the same team. It means I don't need to root against your shiny metal boyfriend." She smirks at you.

"You'd date Wattson if you could." You retort, trying to fend off her wit.

"Oh! So you are dating!" Ah, shit. You didn't mean to imply that. "So how is he? Is he everything you dreamed? Does he satisfy you?" She's so excitable, despite your answer being completely predictable.

"It's not like that." You turn away, hoping she won't push it.

"It's not like that--yet." She has to push the envelope, every time. She just can't let anything go. "I think he likes you. I bet he's thinking about you right now."

"When there's blood to be spilt? Fat chance." You finally see an opening for a comeback, and you take it. Sherry looks at you with shock, until it melts into a beaming smirk.

"It's cute how much you like him." She finally says.

"Oh, shut it." You leave it there, happy with the ceasefire, knowing you'll likely lose ground if you push it.

The television starts announcing the teams, showing Revenant with Wattson and Wraith. The camera holds on Revenant, standing in the middle and in front of his teammates in the drop ship, giving the commentators time to fawn over his unusual chassis. The floral language they use to describe the viciousness of his new body makes you chuckle as you think about how much he loves snout rubs. You feel a little badass for once; after all, you've tamed the unholy beast they seem so reverent of.

Revenant turns his head, locking optics with something off screen. The camera pans to see who, and a familiar masked face appears. If Bloodhound could have an intense look, this was it. It was a primal look, a pure determination that could only be described as a hunter locking eyes with a most dangerous prey. This is what Revenant meant. This was his plan. There was no chance this would end without a fight for the ages. His animalistic appearance only added to the allure of this soon-to-be battle.

"Hey, why don't we watch the team channel?" Sherry breaks your immersion in the game.

"The what?"

"Oh my--you've been here almost as long as me! How do you not know these things?!" You shrug, still not sure what she's talking about. "Every room gets a special team-specific feed with communications and everything. We should watch it if Wattsy and Revenant are together." She gets up and grabs the remote, clicking a button as she returns, causing the perspective to shift and the commentators to fall silent. You can hear the team instead, loud and clear. Why didn't you know about this?

Sherry bops you on the back of the head before returning her attention to the television.

The voices come through loud and clear on this channel.

"Are you sure about this?" Wattson asks, looking up at Revenant's massive frame.

"Yeah, this seems like a good way to get knocked out early." Wraith crosses her arms, sounding equally skeptical.

"I don't need you to trust me, but I'm going to be chased down. I need to drop separately and lose their trail. I need you to kit up without me, and I will meet you where you are." Revenant must be referring to Bloodhound.

"And what if we're targeted for landing as two instead of three? Not to insult your intelligence, but this seems particularly unwise." Wattson is always so sweet, even when she's not very fond of who she's speaking to.

"You'll need to drop cold. Drop within running distance to me and I will come to your aid if you're targeted." Revenant insists. Wattson sighs, clearly unsure of how to change his mind.

"Very well, please do not get us all killed, even if it is in your programming." Wattson relents.

They walk over and stand tall near the open hatch, barely keeping themselves up and not falling into World's Edge. The wind makes it impossible to hear the communications, but you see Revenant pointing to a few places and Wattson making hand motions as if to discuss options. Wraith just keeps her arms crossed, looking like a badass behind them.

Revenant steps away from the two to step further inside the ship, leaning against the ship wall and appearing to sigh. You hear a voice pick up on his communications.

"You are not as clever as you think, bráð." Revenant turns his gaze to meet Bloodhound, who is haughtily ignoring their teammates in favor of stoking these flames. "You may have disguised your scent with that of your apprentice, but all I must do is hunt your apprentice in order to find you." Revenant huffs, unfazed. "I will be disappointed if this hunt is unworthy of my skills."

With that, Bloodhound turns away to face their teammates, returning to planning. Fuse and Caustic seem completely okay with Bloodhound's previous absence from the conversation, willingly taking time to catch Bloodhound up on their plans. Revenant moves back to his team, Wattson clearly having noticed the exchange over her comms.

"Making friends, are we? I did not think you had it in you." She chuckles a little. She's a bit sassy herself, no wonder her and Sherry get along.

Revenant blows a puff of breath out his nostrils and into his mic, refusing to acknowledge her question.

"You'd be surprised, I think our local murder machine is going soft on us." Wraith pipes up in a taunting manner. Revenant looks very concerned that she might expand on her statement, but Wraith clearly is just enjoying his somewhat panicked reaction, smirking at him with delight.

"Perhaps this is a story for another day. Our drop is coming up!" Wattson chirps, clearly getting a bit excited.

The comms go quiet, spare for the blowing wind near the hatch, before they all jump into the white abyss, the drone camera attempting to follow. As the camera breaches the cloud line, you can see the trails of the team splitting, two in one direction and the other in the opposite. A message appears on the screen reading: 'calling additional drone' before it follows Wraith and Wattson down below.

"Do you want to watch your big metal hunk?" Sherry teases you. "He went off by himself, so I don't mind watching him. I'm comfortable that Wattsy will just be picking up loot safely in that area. Nobody really drops over there."

"I'm being hunted as expected. Stay alive, you two. I'll be there soon." Revenant's voice can be heard over the television.

"Yes! How do we watch him?!" You pipe up, instantly concerned.

Sherry hits a button on the remote and a new visual appears. This new camera drone isn't at Revenant yet, but staring down Bloodhound instead. Bloodhound is looking back and fourth, clearly flustered. The drone hovers, refusing to move as it may give away positions of either Legend.

Bloodhound runs up to a bunker, opens the door, and immediately puts their gloved hands over their mask, as if they're smelling something pungent. They run over to the control panel, wiping the surface and sniffing their fingers. Suddenly, they look invigorated. Impressed, perhaps? It's hard to say. Bloodhound appears to speak into their communications mic and runs off in a full sprint, disappearing from the drone's view.

The drone watches longingly after Bloodhound's trail before it suddenly jostles, making the view blurred and incomprehensible. The camera slows, eventually able to capture an image. It's Revenant's visage, clearly holding the drone at arm's length while sprinting.

"I know you're watching, little skinsuit. Hug your girlfriend if you get too scared." The drone mic isn't as clear as his team comms device, but he's still understandable. "In fact--Sherry--keep her warm for me. You have my support, but I get her back as soon as this is done. Deal?" His voice is full of vitriolic flirting, if that description makes any sense. He crushes the drone and the screen becomes static. Sherry turns to you with a devious smirk.

"Oh, he's so kinky for you." She uses her deep voice and leans into you, wrapping an arm around your back. Your cheeks burn red. "You must have something special, huh? How else did you end up with a big dom daddy like--"

"Oh my fuck, please stop Sherry!" You burst from embarrassment, burying your face in your knees as you pull into your frame. "I can't handle you two teaming up."

She laughs, but not sadistically for once. She gives you a quick hug, a pat on the back, and changes the channel to the other, working camera drone.

"I'm fine, but I have another favor to ask." Revenant's voice brings you out of your human sphere. You don't recognize this area, it's not considered a hot spot.

"You're really pushing your luck today, rustbin." Wraith stays stoic about the whole thing, attaching a scope to a Havoc.

"Let's hear him out. What is it? I cannot promise I will agree to anything, though." Wattson is undeniably kind, but sounds like she's trying to be stern.

"If Bloodhound survives to the end with us, let me single them out and fight them alone. If I fail to finish them, you can kill them and take the match without me." Revenant plans to do what he originally teased you about: defeat your first favorite Legend. How did he find out it was Bloodhound? Or does he even know?

"The chances of that seem unreasonably low, and it seems quite risky, but if you really want to I will respect your wishes." Wattson says as she rummages through a supply bin, picking up some shield cells and batteries.

"The chances are actually strangely high..." Wraith almost mutters as she loads her Havoc. "Did you bribe some people to throw or something?"

"No, I gave the Hunter a challenge." Revenant says as he begins adding improvements to his RE-45, making a satisfying chunking sound as his mag extender slots in. "My mind is on making a spectacle of our battle, and the only thing on the Hunter's mind is surviving until they can kill me. Call it actualization."

"Yeah, you'd have no reason to pay your way to the top, you enjoy this too much." Wraith tests her scope by looking down the sights, apparently pleased with her meager kit for now. "Alright team, we need more equipment, let's move."

They all begin to move towards an area known as The Harvester. You had been dragged there and touched all the controls, doors, and climbed an excessive amount of the area. It makes you tired to even think about it.

"So, I have some actual questions though." Sherry brings your attention out of the television, so you turn towards her. There's not much point in watching until there are gunshots anyway. Otherwise they're just going to be finding more gear. "What happened to your leg?" She points to the puncture wounds on your calf.

"Oh, um--well..." You accidentally revealed it when you pulled your leg up on the couch. "He has a thing where he can't control himself for a few seconds after he reboots." She pauses, processing your response. It is a really odd string of words to put together.

"So... he's homicidal, and if you don't get away--"

"No, not homicidal. There is zero chance of that. More like possessive and overly passionate about it." You hope it makes sense. She pauses again, trying to process the meaning behind the words.

"So it's a sexual thing?" Of course she gets it all wrong.

"No, more like a 'nobody can have you' kind of thing, and then he got too worked up and clenched too hard."

"So... are you sure about this whole thing? What if this keeps happening? That's not okay." She seems genuinely concerned, and a bit unhappy.

"It was an accident, honestly. Sort of like tripping into someone and knocking them over." You try to make it as mild-seeming as possible, but you know she won't fully buy it. She sighs, crosses her arms, and shrugs a little. That's enough acceptance for now.

"So, follow-up question: are you sure you're safe?" It might as well be the same question, but you relent.

"I'm pretty certain."

"That's a horrible answer!" Obviously she'd be a bit upset that it's not complete certainty, but how can you lie to her? Nothing is completely certain.

"It's complicated, but this is a risk I'm absolutely willing to take." You surprise yourself with your own calmness. "I know this seems insane, but my life has only been better for every crazy decision I've made, and I need this to happen. Life is short these days, even if I die I want to do something better than nothing." Sherry stares at you with a dumbfounded look, apparently impressed by your short speech.

"I guess that makes sense, but if stuff gets too violent... please leave." She averts her gaze, looking down at her feet.

"I promise, but really, I'm quite happy." You hug her, and she hugs you back for a moment.

"So he must be really good in bed then, huh?" She ruins the moment, she absolutely has to. It's practically her purpose in life at this point.

"I don't know, to be honest." You try to sound as serious as possible to avoid further teasing.

"What? Are you kidding? He makes it sound like you guys are fu--"

"Don't say it please." You put your face in your hands, questioning why you're still so easily embarrassed by these things. You're always blushing, which seems to goad people like Revenant and Sherry into teasing you. It is a little fun, though. Their power trip of teasing seems to make them both so happy, and in a weird way you share in that happiness as a willing victim.

"Well, okay, but I hope you get some soon," she snickers, "Honestly I don't think it'll be much longer now, anyway."

Gunshots ring out on the television.

"I've taken hits! If you've got a sniper, try to cover me!" Wraith sounds hurt, despite phasing towards the opponents on a hill nearby. Revenant pulls a Longbow he must have found recently, doing his best to take shots at the opponents while Wraith closes the gap. The scope must not be the best, because you can clearly see his stature get frustrated as he whiffs his shots. The return fire seems just as poor, hitting at Revenant's feet and the wall behind him, leaving gaping bullet holes. Suddenly, you hear a crack as Revenant's shot lands, then another.

"One closest to you is weak," he quickly states.

"Got it, engaging." Wraith barely finishes her statement before she's downed her opponent. Without the fancy graphics of the public broadcast, you're not sure who is on the enemy team, especially with how far the drone is.

"Engaging on the opposite side! Someone is alone!" Wattson suddenly appears on the opposite side as Wraith, immediately engaging another body as Wraith moves in towards the final contender in the middle. The gunshots are really going now, but the camera drone has been staying near Revenant, who is hanging back taking sniper shots.

"I'm down, but he's hurting!" Wattson's voice comes over comms, prompting Revenant to switch to his RE-45 and sprint to close the distance. The drone lags behind slowly, not closing enough distance to make out the opponents.

Wraith curses over the audio as she and her opponent go down simultaneously, leaving one weakened contender to Revenant. He's closing the gap excessively fast; it looks like they're trying to use a med kit.

"I'm not wasting the bullet." You definitely watch Revenant's silhouette stab the other before the med kit is finished, prompting the whole team to be deathboxed. The drone suddenly kicks into high speed, catching up to Revenant. It makes sense that the drones shouldn't give away positions, but this was a little frustrating at times. They either have to stay side-by-side or it has to hang back.

Revenant goes to Wraith first, pulling a medical syringe in his fist. He pauses, looking down on her for a moment. He twirls the syringe in his fingers, stopping it so his thumb lands on the plunger and his pointer and middle finger brace the flange on the barrel. He kneels down to her, pinches the muscle near her shoulder, and injects it quickly. He tosses the empty needle in a different pocket on his belt and helps her to her feet. Wraith is staring at him with a strange but subtle smile. He huffs at her and turns to tend to Wattson.

"So you did pay attention." Wraith sounds soft for a moment, but it doesn't get a reaction out of Revenant, who is doing the same to Wattson.

"Have you ever thought of the long term effects of all these injections?" Wattson asks as Revenant helps her up.

Wraith clears her throat loudly, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, it can do crazy things for sure." Wraith says with a heavy layer of frustration.

"Oh, I am so sorry, I did not mean to dredge up old memories." Wattson shakes her hands in front of her as a motion of apology.

"Yeah, science these days tends to be used to ruin the lives of as many people as possible." Revenant adds.

They all stand there in a circle, silent. It's not an awkward silence, it's a mournful silence. Revenant's stare is deep in the distance. Wraith's body language exudes frustration over past traumas. Wattson looks at the ground, almost like in secondhand guilt for being a woman of science. The stillness hangs for an uncomfortable amount of time, before Wraith breaks it.

"Nothing we can do, we are who we are now." She sighs. "We're top seven now. We need to find some other deathboxes and pick up better gear. We're going to stay sneaky until we're down to the last two." She immediately begins running towards the center of the new circle, close to the giant ice-like structure known as the Epicenter. Revenant and Wattson immediately move to follow. More boring running for a while.

"Who do you think was on that team?" Sherry asks, understanding that there's not much point in watching these segments.

"I'm not sure either. Sneaky play is boring, but I can't argue with the results. I'm going to run and get snacks, do you want anything?" You stand up, wanting to move around after a long while of sitting. Sherry immediately lays down on the couch, taking up all the space you left.

"Sure, give me anything with that cheese powder crack on it." She shoots you finger guns.

• • • •

"Sherry, I'm not getting you more chips."

"Please?"

"No, you've literally had three and a half bags, you're covered in cheese dust, and I'm pretty sure you're an addict. How strong is your metabolism, anyway?" You're brushing dust off the couch, at this rate you might as well get a vacuum. You ate a half, and then Sherry destroyed the rest plus all the other bags you got. You wonder how on earth she keeps her thinner figure like this. She must be cut from a completely different cloth than you.

"I have the same metabolism as all of my tapeworms." She stretches, and attempts to wipe the dust off her pants. "Sadly this has been pretty uneventful so far. They're being so careful. Three teams left now, and it looks and sounds like the other two are fighting it out." The gunshots are weak and in the distance.

"We're kitted as best as we can be, we should approach this like we did last time." Wraith has a 30-30 Repeater now, extremely well-modded.

"Did you notice that we're in the circle and they are not? We should set up a bit of an obstacle course here!" Wattson chirps.

"We can actually use it to attract our opponents and engage them from afar too." Wraith is beginning to smile, seeing a good path to victory.

"Leave Bloodhound for me." Revenant mumbles, just as a reminder.

"You'll get your wish, we've got this." Wraith's smile is unusual for her, but it's hard not to be at least a little happy in the face of such a massive victory.

Wattson begins setting up electric gates in the area as the circle closes in from the distance, creating a strange set of gates around the Survey Camp, trying to get around and weave through cover. Wraith finds a spot away from the tangled mess, Revenant joining her.

"Do you think they'll win?" You hold your breath, not as sure as Wraith is.

"Of course, Wattson is with them!" Sherry pumps her fists together as if she didn't just eat an inhuman amount of crisps. How can she move so jovially with a stomach that must weigh as much as a brick?

Gunshots ring out, Revenant takes sniper shots at the last remaining team as they escape the incoming heat wall.

"Why did you give our position away!?" Wraith punches him in the shoulder, but he doesn't flinch.

"Use your portal to charge them, hit Bloodhound in the leg, and come back immediately through the portal. Let them follow." Revenant has no fluctuations in his voice. He's dead serious.

"This better work!" Wraith yells as she disappears, leaving a strange portal hole next to Revenant.

"Wattson, come throw down your Interceptor Pylon here, we need to make sure they come into the portal after Wraith." Revenant seems to have thought this through, but why does he want to fight up close?

Wattson throws it down and it immediately stops an incoming Knuckle Cluster, barely getting it up and running in time. Some incoming grenades meet the same fate.

"Excellent, thank you Wattson." Revenant sounds excited. Wattson pauses in minor confusion.

"You're... thanking me? You never do tha--"

Wraith appears in front of Fuse, Bloodhound, and Caustic. She pulls out her 30-30 Repeater and nails Bloodhound in the leg, taking many shots herself before retreating into the portal. Bloodhound takes a knee and begins using a med kit as Caustic and Fuse jump into the portal.

Revenant is unarmed on the other side, all his guns, grenades, recovery tools, and ammo on the ground around him. He's holding his sharpened arm right up against the portal's center, practically posing. Fuse first appears and is immediately skewered through the chest, exhaling in surprise. Revenant flicks his entire arm to the side, causing Fuse's corpse to fly off to the side, blood spewing everywhere out of the hole in his chest. He is deathboxed before he hits the ground. Revenant's other hand is already poised for an encore.

Caustic comes through second, taking the sharpened point in the neck. The blood is immediate and generous. Revenant lifts his body off his feet, letting the blood roll down his stabbing arm and drip everywhere. Caustic drops a live Gas Grenade as he dies, spitting blood. Revenant throws his body in much the same manner, and Caustic is deathboxed midair.

"Well, shit, that worked." Wraith has almost healed her injuries completely, Wattson watching over her and armed to the teeth. "I guess the rest is all yours, maniac."

"Do not make us wait too long, please! I am looking forward to this win!" Wattson helps Wraith up and begins to run in the other direction to escape the spreading gas.

Revenant immediately starts sprinting towards Bloodhound in a straight line with no gear of any kind. Not even a gun. He's thoroughly coated in fresh blood and looks like a monstrosity, surely he's going to be shot down.

"Is he trying to die?!" Sherry screams at the television. "They almost have it! What even is this?!" You wish you could defend Revenant, but in truth you have the same questions.

No gunshots come though. Bloodhound stands there, newly recovered thanks to their med kit. They're situated right near the tangle of electrical gates, arms crossed and waiting patiently. It doesn't take long for Revenant to meet them, standing tall and unarmed a few feet away, locking their gaze. Bloodhound begins throwing their guns, grenades, health items, and ammo to the side. They finish, staring down their opponent in a strange silence. You're glad you're on a private channel, this would be ruined by any crowd sounds or commentators talking over it.

Finally, Bloodhound reaches behind them and pulls out a beautiful axe. It looks ancient but well-maintained, certainly a relic from their sordid history as a hunter.

"Congratulations kill leader, how many did you kill to get to this moment?" Revenant asks.

"Fourteen bodies lay behind me." Bloodhound states very plainly. That's an insane number. Revenant growls happily at their answer. "I have fought hard to meet this moment. I will confess, you are more clever than I expected. I am sorry for underestimating you before. You brought your apprentice here and ensured she left her scent everywhere, then disguised yourself with the same scent."

You're stunned into silence. All that running around was to literally make it impossible for Bloodhound to hunt by scent alone. You almost felt happy to be a small part of this, in some way, but also a little frustrated at how hard that day was. It explains why Revenant took your shirt before, why it came back so grimy, why you had to touch everything, and why he wasn't upset that you drooled all over his mane. Is this simulacrum also a conniving genius?

"I noticed you didn't use your sonar to find me earlier." Revenant pries a little.

"It would be disrespectful to the honor of this hunt." Bloodhound is beginning to sound excited in a bloodthirsty manner. "You also have come unarmed, so I meet your challenge as my ancestors would."

Bloodhound shimmers the blade of the axe in the sunlight, proudly caressing its blade. They've got one knife, an axe, and their wits. Nothing more.

Revenant begins to sidestep, Bloodhound sidestepping to match, never leaving each other's gaze. They're circling each other, neither making the first move. Bloodhound breaks the silence with a thunderous declaration.

"May the Allfather bless this hunt!" They lunge forward, axe at the ready.

Revenant leaps to the side, avoiding them, immediately lunging to counter. His giant maw is wide open, going straight for Bloodhound's head. Bloodhound ducks, and plunges one of their smaller knives into Revenant's gut. They push the knife in hard enough that Revenant buckles at the torso and falls backwards, letting the knife slide out in Bloodhound's grasp.

Revenant's clawed foot hits Bloodhound right in the breathing mask, causing them to stumble backwards long enough for Revenant to get on his feet. Revenant lunges again, but uses his arm length to pick Bloodhound up and toss them through the electrified fence. Bloodhound lands on the other side, obviously hurting. A knife comes flying through the fence and chunks into Revenant's chest. Revenant grabs at it, clearly in pain from both his hits so far. He leaves it in despite his pain, knowing that Bloodhound can't have it back this way without getting close.

Revenant strafes to the side to see around the electric fence just to find nothing there. They've vanished in the web. Revenant begins to prowl around the inside of the fence with all its jagged nooks, looking for anything. Revenant keeps turning to look behind him, clearly expecting some kind of attack from behind. The heat wall closes in on the fenced in area, leaving only half of the area available. Revenant watches as the wall moves up close to his face, then begins to turn to leave.

Bloodhound leaps onto Revenant's back from behind the heat wall, their garb charred a bit from hiding beyond it. Bloodhound gets their axe around Revenant's throat and pulls so the handle begins to choke him, but Revenant throws himself backwards into the heat wall, burning Bloodhound. They shove the axe upwards in an uppercut-like fashion, stunning Revenant so they have time to dismount and leave the heat wall before swinging for another blow. The axe lands in Revenant's hip, but Revenant grabs it and holds it in place, lunging forward with his open jaw to bite. Bloodhound jumps back, avoiding the bite, but losing their axe in the process.

Bloodhound shows no fear, immediately lunging for Revenant's lower body, taking advantage of his shifted center of gravity and forcing him to fall forward, right on the knife in his chest. Revenant emits a horrid sound which is only compounded when Bloodhound pulls the axe from his hip. Bloodhound swings for the head, but Revenant shifts so his horn takes the brunt. Revenant grabs Bloodhound's leg and in one swift motion gets to his feet and throws Bloodhound like a ragdoll across the field, away from the fences. Revenant sprints towards them, leaning so far forward that he's nearly on all fours. It's bestial. Bloodhound is able to sit up just in time to save themself from a massive bite, but only by shoving their axe in Revenant's jaw to force it to stay open.

Revenant takes the opportunity to get his hands around Bloodhound's neck, claws fully out. Bloodhound retaliates by using their free arm to pull the knife from Revenant's chest, causing him to reel in pain. He still is unable to close his mouth, and Bloodhound isn't choking fast enough to save him from getting his throat slashed by the now freed knife. Revenant is forced to release Bloodhound completely and staggers backwards, holding his own throat now instead. You could be mistaken, but it looked like the inside of his mouth might have been injured from biting the axe too.

Bloodhound immediately throws the knife again, hitting Revenant in the thigh. He falls to a knee, giving Bloodhound enough time to get up and lunge, landing the axe right in Revenant's mask. With a twist of the wrist, their axe is free and Revenant's mask is cracked. Revenant's pain seems to convert to adrenaline, as he lets go of his throat and grabs Bloodhound's leg out from underneath them, causing them to land on the back of their head before Revenant goes in for a stab. Bloodhound deflects Revenant's arm stab with their axe. Revenant's arm chunks into the ground next to Bloodhound's head instead.

Revenant is making a disconcerting wheezing noise. There's tons of damage all over his body, and the pain must be unreal at this point. Bloodhound is banged up too, taking mostly concussive damage to the head. Their chest rises and falls rapidly, but you can't hear them pant through the breathing mask. Despite all the apparent hurt, you do not expect either of them are done.

Revenant lunges down for the bite and nails it this time, his maw right around Bloodhound's head. Bloodhound is bleeding immediately, but takes the opportunity to pull the knife again from his thigh. Revenant, now wise to the possibilities, uses his whole body to fling Bloodhound by their head to the side. Revenant is finally able to stand up completely, but he limps a little.

Bloodhound's head is bleeding pretty badly now, their blood splattered on the ground from being bit and thrown. They quickly get to their feet but quiver a bit while doing so. They seem confident now having their knife and axe at their side again.

"Allfather is pleased by this battle." Bloodhound states very factually. "Were it not for my weapons, I surely would have lost this fight long ago."

"Hate to break it to you, but you're still going to lose." Revenant's voice sounds wispy from exhaustion. He limps closer, and Bloodhound stands their ground.

Revenant ignores his limp just long enough to lunge, this time claws out and jaw open. Bloodhound sidesteps, but Revenant recovers quickly and turns to lunge again. Bloodhound is ready, and uses both the knife and the axe to stab and brutally chunk into his back as they take a massive bite to the waist, as well as an arm stab to the thigh. Bloodhound just begins wailing his blades into Revenant's back, who seems unwilling to release the hold he has. Bloodhound's waist is dripping blood and the cloth on their outfit is soaked crimson. Revenant's body seems to be giving out on him, but not before Revenant uses his spare arm for a stab towards the chest.

Bloodhound clearly plans to take it. They're unable to dodge or move, but before Revenant can land the blow, Bloodhound plunges the knife into Revenant's throat. Revenant's stab finishes, but his chassis goes limp right as Bloodhound is deathboxed from the stab to the chest.

The final camera shot of the fight is of Revenant's bestial chassis limply hanging off the edge of Bloodhound's deathbox, his head resting on the top like a mourner on a coffin. Then Revenant is deathboxed, ending the match.

The camera shifts to Wraith and Wattson who were watching the fight from afar, now waving in victory to the camera and celebrating. Wattson holds a Nessie plush toy over her head in victory, but where did it come from? As the camera zooms in, you see she's surrounded by a few. What the heck?

Sherry and you sit, stunned in silence. Sherry changes the channel to the public broadcast, and you hear the crowds reeling in cheers at the primal violence they just got to enjoy. The commentators are losing their minds over the ending, calling it 'The Allfather's Hunt' and practically gushing at the seams over the imagery of the Hunter and the Prey dying together. Wraith and Wattson are showered in confetti and champagne, although Wraith doesn't seem as much into the celebrations as Wattson is. Revenant really did make a spectacle out of the whole thing. Nobody was going to care about 'Loba the Scalper' after this.

Sherry seems conflicted. Normally she would be on her feet, screaming loud enough to warrant a noise complaint whenever Wattson wins. However, now she seems worried over what she just saw. She turns to you.

"This guy can and might kill you." She speaks very quickly and quietly. "I just watched him kill with no weapons, just brute strength. He can throw people and crush them and stab them and bite them, and he can absolutely break every bone in your body if he wanted." She looks down at her hands, as if to soak in the frailty of humanity. "I don't want you to end up like that."

"Sherry, I know. Trust me, I do. He's the strongest, most terrifying person I've ever met, but I'm not and will never be his target." You speak confidently. "He finds some kind of comfort in me and has taken a liking to me. He will not intentionally hurt me. Unintentionally it may happen, but he seems to know how to handle that when it does happen."

Sherry sighs.

"Do you love this guy that much?" She asks.

You pause. It's not a word you've really used yet to describe how you feel. Like, sure, but not full-on love. You think about it. You don't like throwing that word around.

"I am that fond of him, yes." You finally say. "I just want to see where it goes."

"If you're sure, just please don't get gored." Sherry stands up, a concerned look still plastered on her face. "I'm going to go clean and decorate Wraith and Wattson's room for them. I would do this one too, but Revenant never seems to like it."

"Thanks for hanging out, Sherry. Don't worry, I'll be okay, I promise."

Sherry nods a little, then leaves the room, allowing you to stretch and relax until Revenant gets back. You wonder how long it will take this time.

• • • •

It's mid-afternoon, by now all the broadcasts should be finished up on all the different planets, where it should be later in the day. Morning matches are a theme here, but it lines up perfectly with the end-of-the-workweek evenings for other planets. It also means the lighting during the match is perfect. Sometimes the broadcast will be held off to make sure it shows at prime time on each planet, but that always means tourism to the planets where it's shown live is excessive.

Right about now, this planet should be clearing out from everyone who wanted to watch the Apex Game live today. Talos probably had it worse today, if you can call tons of tourism worse. After all, they must make bank in souvenirs, assuming the locals are one to sell souvenirs. You question if the people Bloodhound came from would be the type to do so. Probably not. Anyone who is willing to though: they must be rich.

It's been a few hours and despite last time, you cannot shake the anxiety that Revenant might never come back.

There's a knock at the door, to which you quickly go and open it.

"Oh, hello, just dropping this off, as requested!" This stout but strong mustached man with permanently squinted eyes rolls in a large deathbox on a caddy. He must work in a different section of the volunteers than you did, otherwise you would recognize him. He carefully lays the deathbox on the floor. You move to help, but remember when Revenant collapsed on you and realize you're not strong enough for this. This guy is impressively strong to be able to carry it. He wipes a bead of sweat from his head after finishing, and begins to roll his caddy out.

"Have a nice day ma'am!" He waves goodbye and shuts the door after himself. You turn to stare down at the deathbox.

Open it.

You want so badly to open it. You have to know. Yes, you need to know. Does his chassis really have all the parts a human does, or was his flirtatious teasing all a grand bluff?

Open it.

This box may not contain all the answers, but perhaps it can solve that one question. Does he really like you that way? Is it possible that he could like you that way? Or is it possible regardless of his body?

Open it.

Is this an invasion of privacy? Probably, but since when has he given you the same courtesy? If you're lucky enough, he won't be back in time to even notice.

Open it.

However, you don't think it's right. You meander to the bed and sit down, turning on the television to see more of the commotion. They're not going to stop talking about 'The Allfather's Hunt' anytime soon. This isn't a good distraction.

Open it.

Forget it, you start flipping through the channels. There's some sickeningly optimistic and colorful kid's show. Now it's news, listing off dozens of people murdered just in the city streets yesterday, per usual. Now it's a show about an unsolved murder from a few years ago. Now it's a documentary about the Frontier War. This isn't working.

Open it.

You grab your badge out of your pocket and leave the room, freezing outside of the door. Right, there's not a single soul back from the medical bay to talk to. You didn't know Wattson well enough to go knock on her door, and you're not sure where Wraith was moved to after Revenant busted her door. Even if you did, you don't know her that well either.

Open it.

You scan your card and reenter Revenant's room, stagger over to the box, and mess with the latch. Once unlocked, a button releases the door and it springs open.

Tears well up in your eyes. Why did you do this to yourself? He's lifeless, bent up into a tangle of limbs and parts to fit into the box. What did you expect? He looks like an old sarcophagus that was forcefully shoved into a box he could not fit in. His corpse is so beautiful, but so empty and void of life simultaneously, like an art piece left to rot in the elements. You can't help yourself. You have to get him out of there.

You move to one side of the box and leverage your legs to begin tipping the box. It's very heavy, but you have to do this. The box tips over its center of balance and rotates the rest of the way over, spilling Revenant's corpse onto the floor. You pull the box back upright so the opening faces the ceiling again, and get back up to run over to his body. His chassis is laid out now like a more normal corpse would be, although his limbs have fallen where they may.

You crouch down, letting your tears hit the chassis with a hollow thumping sound. You hold his hand, but there's nothing: no squeeze, no sharp points, not even a bashful resistance to such an act of affection. No amount of knowledge that he will come back can fix how you feel right now.

You struggle to pull his body into your lap. This may be lighter than his classic metal body, but it's still difficult to move it around. You silently weep, finally getting his crushing weight on your legs. You lean forward into his nuzzle and rub it, hoping for that awkwardly stifled joy he shows when he likes something. There's nothing, his eyes are void.

You begin to cry out loud.

You carefully cradle his head, ignoring the matted fur in the way. You rock back and fourth, crying into his cheek and begging him internally to wake up. The tears flow around and into the giant crack in his mask. He had wounds all over him, and you trace your fingers around each one. Hope is worthless; it can't fix him. You touch his horns he seemed so proud of. There's a massive break in one of them and the horn is almost loose off his skull. So much damage. So much pain. Your crying gets louder.

Why did you open it? Why did you have to be curious? At first you just wanted to look to see if he was bluffing about this body having sexual mods. You didn't bargain for the excessive and overwhelming grief of seeing him dead. You rock his body, mourning in utter despair, cradling his head so close to your chest that it hurts. You squeeze your eyes shut to try to hold back the tears, but it flows right through. Maybe not seeing the body will help.

You continue to sob and rock him for what feels like an hour. In truth, it's probably only ten or so minutes. It hurts so bad, even with your eyes closed the image might as well be etched on your eyelids. Your nose is stopped up from the crying, but you cannot find the energy to try to wipe it so it can breathe again. Your only air flows through your mouth in painfully hitched gasps between sobs of agony.

Suddenly, something cold and metal begins wiping away your tears.

You wince in surprise, but as you open your eyes you see nothing. You look side to side, panning the entire room, but there really is nothing. The door didn't open, you would have heard that. If Revenant was here, you would have seen him, right? You make sure to turn fully around and look behind you, maybe he's in your blind spot. No, nothing. What even was that? You turn back around.

You take a deep breath and sigh in disappointment, a few more tears escaping your eyes.

Hands cup around your cheeks, drying them again. You look up. He's on the ceiling, attached by his feet, but holding his hands downward to touch you. He's back in his normal, red body. He carefully releases himself from the ceiling one leg at a time, being careful to step behind you. He curls around you in a hug so your back is against him. He carefully pulls you backwards so the chassis in your lap rolls off of you, and he envelops you in his cool embrace. He uses a foot to push the corpse further away from you. He grabs your jaw to force you to face him as he leans his head forward to look at you.

"Why are you crying?" His voice is plain and without emotion, but his face--his eyes--have life. You begin to cry again in some kind of disbelief, forcing your body to turn towards him and hug him back. You grip the red straps on his chest and press your face against his metal torso, letting the tears roll down him. You won't let go. This one is alive.

He brushes your hair with his claws, lightly scratching your scalp as he does. His other hand rubs into your back, careful to press into your spine and knead it. His legs bunch up and cross around you.

"I was secretly hoping you would snoop around in my deathbox, looking for something you shouldn't." He sighs into your ear. "Instead you cry over me. What a disappointment when I was hoping to catch you being naughty. Do you really feel that attached to me already?" He squeezes you a little, but you can't stop crying to answer him. "You must, otherwise you wouldn't cry for me like this, despite knowing I will always come back."

He continues to try to soothe you as best as he can. He's warmed up and is now reflecting heat back at you. He nuzzles his mask into your shoulder. He takes breaks from brushing your hair to try to wipe away any tears that'd don't make it onto his chest.

"Idiot." He lets out a small chuckle. "You're making me soft." You can't respond, but your tears are finally beginning to run dry. "You know, they say the best way to know if you're loved is to attend your own funeral. Obviously, that's impossible for most. Thank you for attending mine, and showing me this." He unwraps his legs, scoops his arms under you, and stands as he lifts you up with him. You refuse to let go of his straps, although your arms have to extend to hold on as you lie back in his hold.

He brings you over to the bed and lays you down carefully. He touches his mask to your forehead, and begins to pull away. He catches on your grip on his straps. You're still trembling a bit and probably still have that ugly crying face you're self-conscious of, but you can't help it. He carefully starts to pry your fingers off of the straps, but you grip even harder. You're not letting go. You won't let go. What if he leaves?

He sighs, recognizing your distress. He lets go of your fingers and scoops you back up again, this time so you're sitting against his shoulder. He's so excessively strong, he barely even seems to be bothered by the weight of you. He walks you over to the computer desk and sits down with you, leaving you in his lap. His hands wrap around you and begin typing on a keyboard. You carefully touch his face, not paying attention to what he's doing.

He pauses, looks to you, and takes your hand for a moment. He pulls it to the ridge of his mask that has a lip-like tint and angle, pressing the back of your hand into it for a moment before releasing your hand and returning his attention to the computer.

For the first time since you opened that deathbox, you trust what you're seeing. He's back, he's alive, and he's okay. You let your body limply lean into his shoulder, release his straps, and let him handle your weight with his body. You close your eyes and remember how to breathe normally. There's no reason to have a panic attack anymore.

"Take a nap. You're more exhausted than I am somehow. I'll wake you up soon." You feel his hand forcefully guide your head over his shoulder where it can rest comfortably. "Don't argue with me, now. Just do as I say."

You really are exhausted from all the excitement and emotion. You snuggle up against him as he shifts his body to fit your comfort. He makes a slow, heavy breathing sound in rhythm with his typing, and occasionally lightly runs his fingers over your bare skin. You're gone soon after.

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write-orflight · 3 years

Text

Settle Down: Chapter 2

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev - Next

Pairings: SpencerXReader (kinda enemies to lovers)

Rating: M

Words: 2K

Warnings: SMUT!! (fingering, sexual content, small breeding kink i guess), cursing. things of that nature

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Y/N and Spencer don’t get along but turn to each other for the one thing you need someone else for… A baby. You can plantonically start a family, right?

AN: Unedited. This chapter has smut, not intense smut but it is to further the plot. comment on this chapter or message for taglist. much love Cia!

Chapter 2: Would it help if I dressed up like Spock?

You never want to thank serial killers for anything but you were slightly grateful that they decided to chill for a week. You and Spencer didn’t really want to have to put this off another month and you very well couldn’t go to Hotch like “you mind if Spencer sits this case out so he can knock me up?”

You decided that you wouldn’t tell the team what you guys were doing until you were at least 4 months pregnant, which getting Garcia to keep it a secret was proving to be its own task. You thankfully had been able to intercept her before she could tell Derek.

Spencer was over every night after work now, cuddling you on your couch watching a new Disney movie. For a man who seemed to know everything, his classic children movie knowledge was lacking. Right now, you guys were watching Ratatouille. He was sitting on the couch and you were on the floor beneath him between his legs, his hand aimlessly raking through your hair. You were on the verge of purring like a cat. You had forgotten how it felt to be comfortable around someone.

“I don’t understand. If this movie is supposed to be about a rodent in a gourmet restaurant. Why is he making a peasant dish?”

“It’s called Ratatouille. Why do you think?” You say, looking up at him. “It’s a pun.”

He smiles down at you. “Well, it’s a play on words. Not a pun.”

“Whatever, nerd.” You go to turn your attention back to the screen but his hand slides from your scalp to around your chin, forcing your head to stay up.

“Tomorrow’s the day, you know.” Spencer says.

“Trust me, I know.” You say.

“Are you…. nervous?” He asks, eyes kind of shifting.

“You don't make me nervous, Spencer.” You say, turning so you can look at him fully. “But something tells me you are. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“It’s just…. Idontwantittobebadforyou.” He rushes out.

You look confused for a second before you realize what he’s saying to you. “Oh, Spencer you don’t have to worry about that.” You say, tapping him on the leg. “After all, you are kinda the only one it needs to be good for.”

“Actually some studies have been showing that women are more likely to become pregnant if they also achieve orgasm.”

“Now that’s something I didn’t know.”

“I just… it just feels selfish. You’re not getting anything out of it.”

“But I am getting something out of it, Spence. The best thing, our kid.” You laugh. “That’s what we’re doing this for, right?”

He hesitates slightly. “Y-Yea, it is. Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Hey, it’s alright. Caring if I orgasm already puts you above like 90% of the guys I’ve fucked.” You shrug. “Now, shut up. I’m trying to watch Remy.” You say, turning your attention but to the kitchen antics on the screen before you.

———————————————

You had been antsy all day. Penelope tried to pry out of you what was making you so jittery but you never told her. As far as Penny was concerned, you and Spencer were going through the clinic. She didn’t need to know the details of how you were getting pregnant.

After work, you and Spencer piled into your car and drove to your house. Once inside, Spencer waited in the living room while you went to the bathroom and took an ovulation test. Not exactly the sexiest thing to set the mood but what are you gonna do? You come out some time later brandishing the test before tossing it in the trash.

“Well, I’m ovulating.” You say. “How are you feeling?”

“F-Fine.” He stutters before clearing his throat. “I’m fine.”

“Ok so you’re clearly not fine.” You say. “We don’t have to do this tonight if you’re having doubts. We can wait as long as you need.”

“No, I’m fine, just nervous.”

“This is probably the wrong time to ask but you’ve…. Done this before right?”

He looks at you incredulously. “Christ, Y/N. I’m not a Virgin.” He exclaims. You hold your hands up in surrender. “It’s just weird. You’re my coworker.”

“We can pretend I’m someone else if you want. Like I’m someone from the bar? Or where do you even meet girls? The library? Comic con? Pen gave me a Star Trek shirt last year. Would it help if I dressed up like Spock?—“

“Can I just kiss you?” He cuts you off. “Can we start there?”

Your face can’t help but soften at that. “Yea, Spencer. That’s fine.” You say, stepping into his space. You feel his hand cradle your face before he leans in kissing you softly. You go at his speed for a while, slowly letting your tongues meet in the middle as you wound your hands into his hair. Soon a gasp is leaving you as you feel hands circling your waist pulling you closer as his kisses become rougher. Soon, you find yourself pressed against your wall. You let out a small yelp not expecting that at all. Spencer slots a leg in between yours, rubbing it against your clothed sex slightly. You groan when you feel his erection against your hip. Spencer’s now kissing you extremely rough. His hand drifts from it’s hold on your hip to the bottom of your jaw, fingers spreading slightly so he's almost gripping your neck like he wants to but is trying to hold back for right now. You’re a little surprised at that, you would’ve never thought Spencer Reid was into that. He pulls away for a second, hand still on your jaw looking at you with hooded eyes.

“Bedroom?” He asks. You nod.

———————————————

The two of you didn’t even have time to have an awkward moment because as soon as you’re in your room behind the closed door Spencer is on you, his lips finding your neck and that spot behind your earlobe that makes you moan. You reach to start unbuttoning his shirt, he helps you and you feel the slight smirk against your jaw. As soon as he’s undressed, you take off your clothes and sit on the bed. You look up and see Spencer still standing up at the end of it, watching you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

“Nothing.” He says. “You’re just- you’re beautiful, Y/N.”

You don’t like the way your heart flutters at that. You need to get a grip and remember this is just a one time thing, a business interaction.

“So do something about it.” You say.

Spencer is on top of you at the speed of light, trailing kisses down your neck and chest. You moan loudly, back lifting off the bed when his lips circle around your nipple, fingers playing with the neglected one. He looks at you softly as he starts to pull your underwear down. His fingers ghost above your sex, waiting for your permission. You nod, moaning when you feel the first digit slides across your wet folds. You had thought about Spencer’s hands before but nothing could prepare you for how they’d actually feel inside you. He says nothing, just gently pumps the two fingers inside you, smirking at how much you’re falling apart under him. It’s somehow hotter than when guys talk to you in bed. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the line you had set for yourself as you get closer to the edge. You shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as you were. Your moans got more and more loud as you felt yourself falling over the edge, praising Spencer’s name all the while. He still says nothing, just studies you with a look of wonderment crossing his face as you ride out your orgasm.

“You ready?” He asks. You nod, helping him pull off his boxers before he settles in the space between your legs. You feel the tip of his member press against you before he looks you in the eye again, silently asking for permission. You push back against him, granting it. The two of you groan loudly at the feeling as he presses inside of you. Spencer gives you time to adjust to his length, he was definitely a lot bigger than you thought he was going to be, then again you never really thought about any of your coworkers genitalia before. You nod when you're ready and he starts moving, slow at first but quickly picking up pace when he hears the groans and moans escaping your body unintentionally.

“Fuck, Spencer. R-Right there.” You stutter out, Spencer moves your legs higher up on his waist as he started fucking you faster, hitting that spot inside you nearly every thrust. You went into this expecting nothing, really just the most mediocre sex possible. Which was fine, you were only doing this for your baby. You certainly weren’t expecting Spencer to actually be good at this. But here you were, moaning like a pornstar underneath the man she didn’t even like just weeks ago.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He moaned, head dropping into your neck. You could feel him panting into your ear. “Fuck, you feel so good. You’re so tight, baby.”

You don’t know where that baby came from but you were too caught up in it to care. Your moans get louder and louder and Spencer drops a hand to your sex, rubbing circles into the bundle of nerves that had your back arching off the bed. You were so unbelievably close you and Spencer could tell by the scratches you left down his back. He placed a small bite on the small patch of flesh behind your earlobe and that was all it took back over the edge for the second time that night. You felt Spencer’s thrust start to falter shortly after.

“Shit, you feel so good, Y/N.” He groans into your ear. “Fuck.”

You knew it wasn’t wise and if you could take it back you would. But you got swept up in the moment and still reeling from the two orgasms you had that you turned your head and whispered directly into Spencer’s ear.

“Give me your baby, Spence.”

Spencer’s leans his head up to look at you now, an almost feral look crossing his face as he starts fucking you harder. Looking you so intensely in your eyes. He brings a hand up to your neck squeezing the sides slightly and gripping your head so you can’t even look anywhere else if you wanted to.

“Fuck, Y/N. You want me to fuck a baby into you, don’t you?” He says, fucking you impossibly hard. You moan loudly, gripping his wrist attached to the hand around your neck. “Fuck, I’m gonna--” He cuts off, and you watch him shake as he releases inside of you, thrusting shallowly as he rides out his orgasm.

A minute passes and he separates from you, placing another pillow under your hips. “I’ve seen some studies say it’s better to keep the hips propped up for five minutes after sex to increase chances of fertilization.” He says. “I’ll be right back.”

He leaves you alone in the room for a second and you decide to spend that time gathering your thoughts. This could not be good. Spencer just gave you the best sex of your life for what most likely, was going to be a one time thing. You don’t even know how to go about working with him and raising this child knowing what he was like in the sack. This was a bad idea, but it was also a little too late now.

He comes back in with a cold water bottle, prompting you to drink it which you happily accept. He goes and runs a hand softly through your sweatshined hair.

“Sorry for… doing that, I know you said it wasn’t necessary before but you seemed close and it felt cruel to just not.” You look at him confused for a second before you realize what he’s saying.

“Are you…. Apologizing for making me cum?” You ask. Spencer looks down awkwardly for a second. “Spencer, trust me it’s fine. In fact, it’s more than fine. Thank you for this. I know it was less than ideal for you.”

Spencer playfully ruffles your hair. “It was not as bad as I thought it would be.”

You roll your eyes at that. “Gee, thanks Casablanca.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.” He laughs. “I should get going.”

“It’s already late. You could just… stay if you want.”

“I don’t want to impose--” He starts but you cut him off.

“Spencer, stay with me.” You say again, looking him in the eyes. “Please.”

He looks at you back for a second, decoding if you were serious before nodding and crawling into the bed next to you. You immediately turn and toss an arm over his torso.

“Goodnight, Spencer.” You say.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He says back.

You can almost swear you feel a kiss at the top of your forehead before you drift off but you’re so tired.

You probably hallucinated it.

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625 notes · View notes

salemwritesxx · 3 years

Text

scars of the past

↳ omega bakugou (21) x alpha, older reader (29)

summary: Katsuki is dating Y/n, an older Alpha who already has a 5 year old child, and even though they both feel very comfortable with each other, Y/n turns back at last, leaving Bakugou alone in front of his own apartment door. However, the Omega has never been someone to just give up and accept something easily.

w.count: 2.2k

content warning: age gap (8 y.), omegaverse, reader has a child, indicated knotting in the last bit but not explicit, mpreg mentioned, alpha reader has a c-section scar and talks about his pregnancy in the last bit

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He knew something was going on. This wasn’t like the few dates prior. Today it was… stiff, uncomfortable. You didn’t talk much.

“Y/n-san?”, Katsuki startled you a bit as you flinched, before faking that smile – he could immediately tell.

“I’m sorry. We are out on a date and I’m all quiet today, huh? Forgive me.”, once again, you smiled, though Bakugou could tell it wasn’t genuine, though for now, he didn’t say anything and instead put on a little smile himself.

“It’s okay.”

And so, you continued the rest of the dinner.

As you brought him home, once more, Katsuki could feel something was in the air, the last few dates were funny, he genuinely felt comfortable around you. He started to like you – a lot. Not even caring that you already had a child, because the more time passed in the last months, the more he liked the thought of becoming part of your family one day.

However, once in front of Katsuki’s apartment door, you stopped and said, “I’m sorry, we need to stop.”

Completely thrown off, he lost his friendly façade for a moment as his facial features derailed and he could just blink for a moment, staring at you with his mouth open, only to shake his head and get back to reality.

“What… What do you mean? We need to stop?”, trying so hard to not yell or get aggravated, since he was so easily agitated and full of rage, he just stared at you with those ruby eyes you really fell for.

“I… I am sorry, I am a coward. But I just can’t let this go on. If we continue, I am going to seriously fall for you and I just can’t.”

With that, you suddenly turned around and rushed down the flight of stairs, literally running away from him while Bakugou could just stay there in front of his apartment and stare at the spot you had been standing in a few seconds ago.

He was so taken aback, his usual potty mouth didn’t escape one sound.

Right when he thought he had met someone he actually liked. Right when it seemed like everything was going well because the last dates were so nice… Everything crashed down on him. Feeling like he couldn’t breathe, like someone was choking him and all he could do was stand still and stare. So that’s how it felt to be rejected by someone you liked?

Wow, that shit hurt.

But he wouldn’t be Bakugou fucking Katsuki if he went and started pitying himself. The moment the sad feelings hit him, he tried to shake them off as he stormed into his apartment.

Stopping? Giving up? As if! He had never been an obedient little whimpy Omega and you would learn that very soon, because for Bakugou the last word had not yet been spoken. Even if you wouldn’t give in to his advances, he at least wanted to have a better reason than “I just cannot fall in love with you”!

Right the next morning, it was a Sunday and he knew you had Sundays off, he went to your apartment complex. Katsuki had only been there once and that very briefly since you didn’t want him to accidentally meet your son, which, he understood, in case things weren’t going to work out, but now? No, Bakugou didn’t care. Even if it was selfish of him.

Being a smart Omega, he ringed someone else’s doorbell, telling them he had forgotten his key to the complex and thus being able to enter quite easily as they opened the front door so he could get in – good thing he wasn’t a robber or something… These people really needed to stop being so friendly, but it was only a good thing for him.

Now you, at least, couldn’t stop him right at the entrance and you had to see him.

Knocking on your door, he waited for a moment, though hearing a “Seiji, don’t!” inside, before it already opened up and a little boy stood in front of Katsuki.

“Oh…”, with big e/c eyes that were definitely yours, Seiji stared at Katsuki for a moment, only for you to arrive and then also finally see who stood in front of your door.

“Katsuki… What-“

“Daddy!”, Seiji then interrupted you, both of you looking down to the little one, “Who is that? You smell like him sometimes.”, the big eyes back on Bakugou who was instantly blushing lightly. Little Alpha kids picked up scents quite easily…

“Sei! I…Go inside, okay? Daddy needs to talk to Katsuki for a moment.”, you said as gently as you could even though your heart was beating 100 miles per hour since you didn’t expect Bakugou to show up at your doorstep.

“Mhhh…”, pouting for a moment, Seiji then begrudgingly went back into your living room where all his toys were, so you could slip out and close the door behind you just before it completely locked.

“Katsuki, what are you doing here?”, you said in a hushed voice.

“I am here because I need answers! You can't just fucking… ditch me like that! Not after saying… what you said yesterday, about… falling and stuff.”, he couldn’t even utter it out loud properly, thinking you really fell for him, even though he had always heard what a complicated, unlovable Omega he was.

Sighing, you rubbed your eyes, before looking back.

“I know. I am supposed to be the older one, you know. Be responsible and not run away. But…”, you turned slightly to look into your apartment where Seiji was making noises as he was playing with a plane toy, “I cannot let myself get hurt again, you know? For his sake, I need to be strong and I can only do that when I am alone.”

“What utter bullshit!”, Katsuki blurted out in the heat of the moment, making you blink and turn back, completely taken aback that he was so rude to you – speech wise. Not even using keigo.

“I get it! You’re a father, but come on!”, he then grabbed you by your shirt, Katsuki’s usual frown changing to a… hurt facial expression. “What’s the point of always being afraid to be hurt? Yes, I cannot promise you that we won’t fight from time to time or that I am not fucking annoying sometimes, but… Just because there is a possibility of these things happening doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try?! You said you would fall for me and me too! I…”, he then gulped and looked down at your torso, a soft rosy hue on his cheeks, “I really like you too and I want to try dating you, properly. I want to be your mate. And, I know you feel the same. We can both smell it, we are compatible on so many levels, so why would you push me away like that?”

It had always been hard for Bakugou to talk about his feelings, but once he started, it kind of was flowing on its own, expressing how much he wanted to be called your Omega, feeling that connection he had with you.

Though the moment he realized what he had just said, especially after you’ve been just silent for the past seconds, he let go of your t-shirt and kind of stumbled back.

“Sorry, I kind of just lost it there. I-“, however he couldn’t talk further when you stepped closer and then hugged him against your strong chest, immediately feeling safe and like he had belonged there, in your arms, all along.

“You’re right. I am a coward, even though I am the Alpha and older and I should take initiative in these things, I… got scared. I didn’t want to go through it all one more time. I don’t know if I can handle it one more time, but… you’re right. I cannot go on with my life being afraid of being hurt again. Because in the end, there will be happy moments, even if it all cease to exist in the end, I know there were happy moments we shared. Forgive me. Are you sure you want this coward Alpha as your mate?”, you then chuckled and looked into his ruby eyes as Katsuki had also looked up, a smile immediately flitting across his lips as he nodded.

“Yeah. I am brave enough for both of us.”, he teased you and laughed, only to see the smile on your lips widen which made his heart skip a bit.

“I’m glad. You truly are one special Omega, Katsuki.”, and with that, you pulled him closer, Bakugou instantly relaxing into the hug as you connected your lips, sharing such a sweet kiss in the middle of the hallway.

“Daddy!”, then the door swung open, making you both flinch and look at little Seiji who held his teddy bear and stared at you with big eyes, “Can I watch TV?”

“Ah… yes, wait, Daddy will turn it on for you.”, then you turned to your new mate, “Will you come inside and eat breakfast with us?”

“Breakfast?”, Katsuki was little confused, especially when you snickered.

“Well, you came so soon, I didn’t even have a chance to make it. I thought you said you weren’t a morning person.”, taking his hand in yours, he instantly squeezed it and walked inside with you, his shy “Yeah no- I really ain’t! But, yesterday just.. hit me pretty hard so I couldn’t really sleep.” made you feel a bit bad, hence you pressed a soft kiss against the side of his head.

“I hope from now on, whenever I keep you up at night, it’s for another reason.”, and that teasing smirk certainly didn’t help Bakugou’s heart at all, especially when you giggled and went inside the kitchen while he just yelled a “Y-Y/n-san!” as he quickly put his shoes away so he could follow you inside the kitchen, helping you with breakfast and hoping to bond with your son while doing so.

Panting and sweating, Bakugou collapsed on top of you eventually, safely landing in your arms that already awaited him while you were now tied for the next 20-ish minutes, though now, both of you had to calm down your racing hearts again and catch your breath.

Since this had been your official first night together, Bakugou was pretty surprised seeing your healed c-section scar across your lower abdomen, hence why, when he could control his breathing again he said, “You know… You never mentioned you were the one who’s pregnant with Seiji.”

“Ah…”, inevitably and complete instinctively you were reaching down to your scar, “You’re right, I never did…”, and then, it was silent again, and even though he wanted to be nosy, he immediately suppressed it and snuggled closer instead, understanding that there might be a reason why you never mentioned it.

Though then you surprised him when you said after a few minutes, “Me and my ex-husband had planned two kids. We were both Alpha men so we decided that I would be pregnant once and he would be pregnant next after like a year or so.”

“Was it a forced marriage?”, he asked so casually, knowing that Alpha/Alpha marriage was very commonly an arranged one in this world.

“No.”, then you sighed, the memories kind of hurting as you looked at the ceiling, “That’s why it hurt so much. We married young. We thought we could truly have a happy ever after, or at least… I thought so. So naturally, when we tried and I found out I was pregnant, we were truly excited. But…”, you gulped and stopped, Katsuki immediately holding on tighter as he felt his Alpha mate’s uneasiness.

“Something in those 9 months changed. I don’t know how or when or why, but, I just knew and I was right. A day after Seiji was born and I was still in hospital he came in and said he didn’t love me anymore. So… that was that.”, you rubbed your eyes and sighed again, though Katsuki was there, holding onto you.

“Literal human trash!”, Bakugou was angry and hurt just listening, like who would do that? He was so, so livid just listening to this story, no wonder you were scared of being hurt again, after such a painful situation, he also would have probably stayed single for the rest of his life.

Pulling him closer though, you buried your face in his hair and whispered, “It’s okay now. It’s been 5 years. I moved on because I have you. You came crashing into my life and I couldn’t be happier about it. Because you didn’t give up, even when I ran away, you came running after me and I am so grateful for that.”

You effectively made Katsuki blush as he buried his face in the nook of your neck, inhaling your Alpha scent and cuddling closer. He was so happy he didn’t let you just run away that night and he went after you right the next morning. Even if your past had left scars on you, he was there and he was willing to build a future with you and Seiji – and one day, when you were both ready, you could take the next step and give Seiji a little brother or sister.

Though those were certainly just dreams of the future for now.

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@salemwritesxx || do not repost, edit, modify or translate my works

writer’s note: hi, it’s me, salem – living his unachievable dream of having a real biological family one day in his fictional world. and? how’s your day? lmfao || also request update? I’m working on a hinata smut and it’s coming along nicely, cannot wait to share it once it’s done 👀

#salemswriting.#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x male reader #bnha x male reader #bakugou x you #omega bakugou

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i-have-a-wonky-eye-too · 3 years

Text

A Princess. A Queen. A Wife. A Mother.

Medieval Au

Princess Y/N Stark of York New must marry a man chosen by her brother, by the time she is 21. Her brother's council have the perfect man in mind, one that is terrifying and hell bent on having his Queen. But Princess Y/N's heart belongs to another, and luckily so does her hand in marriage. 'A princess is far more powerful than a king, my love. You have the power of merging families and kingdoms. You have the power of carrying hopeful heirs to the throne. You have more power than you know...'

Bold italics are flashbacks.

Series warnings: swearing, medieval views on women, arranged marriage, smut, bloodshed, violence, 18+ readers only

Part warnings: talk of arranged marriage, light swearing, slight violence, talk of beheading

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<Part 5<

Part 6

The days that followed the chaos in the woods went by in a blur. Steven seemed to be in meetings none stop, his council keeping him busier than he would have liked but he was King after all. You were certain you went almost three days without seeing him. But there was always someone to keep you entertained or to spend your time with. You did miss the King's company though.

Not long after the clock had hit midnight on your last night in Brook, you found yourself walking down the hallway toward Steven's study. The sound of raised voices coming from behind the closed door made you stop just before you could raise your hand and knocked.

"ENOUGH!" Steven shouted along with what you assumed was him banging his fist down against a table. "I am not discussing this any further, Sir Alexander, please leave."

You tried to move back as quickly as you could before Sir Alexander opened the door but it seems he was far closer than you had expected.

As he stepped out, he almost bumped into you, glaring down at you like you were something underneath his shoe. "Spying on us, Miss Stark."

You glared up at him, "Certainly not, Pierce, I was about to knock on the door. And have you forgotten who you are speaking to?" You scowled at the man.

"My apologise, Your Highness." He bowed to you half-heartedly before sulking off.

You stuck your tongue out behind the wretched man's back before you turned back to face the door, only to find Steven stood leaning against his desk with a grin. You began to blush as he beckoned you in.

"Not very lady-like, Princess." He teased.

"Don't you mean, Miss Stark," You scoffed and closed the door behind yourself, "God, that man,"

Steven sighed heavily as he nodded and pushed himself up from where he was leaning. "He is infuriating... My apologies for the way he addressed you, Y/N. I will have a word with him." He said as he moved around to sit in his chair.

You shook your head, drifting towards his desk. "No need, Steven. I know what he is like... Unfortunately, he is like most men I have the pleasure of knowing." You scowled.

Steven's brow creased as he looked at you, "I hope I am not included?" His tone was light.

You shook your head with a warm smile. "Of course not, Your Majesty."

Steven watched you as you wandered around his office, running your fingertips over the surfaces. There was something troubling you, he could tell just by the way your brow was knitted together, and the soft pout you had on your lips. You were overthinking, why else weren't you asleep.

"What's troubling you, Y/N?" Steven asked.

You looked over your shoulder to him, taking in a deep breath as you took him in. He wasn't wearing his formal court attire, just a plain white tunic that was open, letting some of his chest hair peak out and breeches and boots. He was stressed, you could tell he'd been dragging his hands through his hair.

"I was thinking of you,"

Steven's face twisted with confusion, "Me?" You nodded turning your head back towards his bookcase. "I don't understand, Princess, why would I trouble you. Have I done something wrong?" He frowned.

"No," You spun around quickly, taking steps closer to his desk. "Of course not." You smiled warmly at him. "You could never do anything wrong to me, Steven."

"I hope so," Steven gave you a pleased smile as he rested his head on his hand, "So if I'm not the cause of your trouble, what is?"

"I-" You let out a frustrated sigh as you fiddled with your own hands, "You mentioned before we were attacked in the woods, something about your council forcing you to marry?"

Steven silently nodded.

"Well, I was just thinking about it... I hope you marry someone who adores you... And truly, cares for you... not just as the King of Brook but, as a person..." You blushed deeply looking down to your slippered feet. You'd forgotten you were in your nightdress. Pepper would have a heart attack if she could see you now. "You're wonderful, Steven..."

Steven groaned as he leaned forwards onto his desk and hid his face in his hands. "... Clearly not everyone agrees with you," He sighed, "Why else would Margeret have done what she had?"

Why indeed? You never understood why the Queen of Brook, Steven's wife, did what she did.

Six months after your 16th birthday, Steven and Margret were married and crowned King and Queen of Brook. They were the picture-perfect couple, or so you would have thought. Steven always been a good king. He worked hard to look after his kingdom. 'Queen' Margret didn't like Steven not paying her enough attention over the eight months they were married, not that she was lacking it and she never had anything to do with the court as a Queen should.

No, Queen Margret was far too busy with her lover. Her lover that was from a neighbouring kingdom, one that was not on good terms with Brook. Steven was a broken man for a long time after learning Margret was with her lover since before they were married.

'You look weak, Your Majesty,' Sir Alexander had hissed, 'You need to make a point with her... you know what needs to be done'. And so Steven had his wife and her lover trialled, they were charged with treason and both sentenced to death by beheading.

"I know I shouldn't speak ill of the dead..." You frowned as you thought about that woman and what she had put Steven through, "But she was a bitch!"

Steven looked up at your outburst, unable to help the crooked smile as he watched your frown deepen. He sighed deeply as he ran his hand over the back of his neck. "... Sir Alexander seems to think her family is a good one, and I should marry her cousin-"

"Sharon!" You cut the King off, stepping as close to his desk as you could without bumping into it. "Steven you can not marry that woman, not after what she did."

Sharon was just as evil as Margaret, in your opinion. It was obvious she was jealous of her cousin, having had a crush on Steven since they were children. Sharon preyed on Steven's broken heart, wormed her way into his everyday life, trying to replace the woman who had once been his wife.

Just before your 18th birthday, Steven invited you to visit Brook for one of your first trips without Anthony. Steven had promised you could visit when the weather was warmer. He knew how much you loved the ocean there, and he kept his promise.

One night whilst you were having dinner along with Bucky and Sam, and of course Sharon, the men were making jokes, some at their King's expense. They were friends, their titles did not matter when they were joking. That wasn't the case it seemed for Sharon. She'd always hated having you around the castle and Steven because you were a princess and she was Lady Sharon. You weren't aware of her dislike to you, you had done nothing wrong as far as you knew.

"Sir James, you should not say such things in front of the Princess." Sharon hushed the knight that sat opposite you.

You grinned at Bucky, "No need to worry, Lady Sharon, you'd be surprised of the things I have heard whilst these three jest with one another."

"Perhaps it would be wise for you to stop being in their company, Princess. After all, you are supposed to be a young lady and not some thick-headed man." Sharon spoke down towards her plate.

You let out a small giggle, "I knew it, Your Majesty," You turned to look at Steven with a playful grin, "I always said you were thick." You teased, making the men once again start their laughter and jokes.

"How dare you speak to the King like so," Sharon cried out as she swung her arm through the air and hit the back of her hand against your cheek. "You wretched little child."

"Sharon, no!" Steven snarled as he along with Sam and Bucky pushed their chairs back and stood up. You held your face as tears burned your eyes, threatening to fall. "What have you done."

"Lady Sharon, we have no choice but to arrest-"

"No!" You cut Bucky off and grabbed a hold of Steven's arm as he knelt beside you, wanting to check you were okay. Your eyes were wide and teary as you looked into his. "Please, don't. It-it was a mis- misunderstanding, Steven,"

He shook his head as he reached up and slid his hand over your burning cheek. "Y/N, I-"

"Please. You can't-" You sniffled as the tears finally fell. You cleared your throat and quickly stood up, "If, you'd excuse me," You gathered your skirts and began to run towards the doors, slipping through them before they were barely open.

With a heavy sigh, Steven pushed himself up from where he had been knelt beside you and glared down at Sharon. "Why would you do something so ridiculous as that, Sharon?"

"She was insulting you, Your Majest-"

"SHE IS A FRIEND!" Steven snarled.

"SHE IS A CHILD, STEVEN!" Sharon cried as she tried to move closer to him but Steven stepped back and held his hand up in front him. "Steven-"

"I want you gone by first light. You are no longer welcome here, Lady Sharon." Steven turned his back to her, clasping his hands behind his back as he did.

"But-"

"GO!" Steven ordered her.

Bucky and Sam lead Lady Sharon out of the great hall and to her chambers where she was ordered to stay until first light.

However, that wasn't what happened. When Steven had decided to retire to his chambers sometime after the incident, he found Sharon naked in his bed, begging him to forgive her for her actions. Steven ordered her to leave Brook at once.

Steven stood from his chair with a frustrated sigh, "I know, Y/N," He walked around to where you stood and leaned against his desk. "I have made sure Sir Alexander knows I have no intentions of marrying Lady Sharon." He gave you a reassuring smile as he reached up and laid his hand over the cheek that Lady Sharon had hit. His eyes moved to the other one that the bandit had hit, it had bruised quite badly but thankfully the bruise had nearly faded. "I am sorry for what happened that night." He whispered, smiling as you tilted your face into his palm as your eyes closed.

You reached up and placed your hand over his. "It is in the past, Steven, and it's not you who needs to apologise." You smiled up at him.

Steven let his hand fall from your face and quickly pushed himself from where he leaned, clearing his throat. "You best get some sleep now, Princess."

You nodded, "I shall bid you goodnight then, Your Majesty," You turned away from him but before you left, you turned back and leaned up, pressing your lips against his cheek. "I shall miss you." You smiled, "Good night, Steven," You whispered before quickly turning your back to him and leaving Steven's office before he could respond.

He stood there long after you had left. His cheeks were flushed as he thought about your warm soft lips against his stubble. He would most certainly miss you too. He always did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @coffeebooksandfandom @vxidnik @fckdeusername

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #marvel #Medieval au #bucky barnes #chris evans #chris evans x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #knight!sam #knight!bucky barnes #King!Tony Stark #King!Steve Rogers x Princess!Stark reader #King!Steve Rogers x princess!reader #Steve Rogers x reader smut #King!Steve Rogers smut

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ikeromantic · 3 years

Text

Bonding

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic, approx. 1800 words. This scene takes place well after the events of the Romantic Epilogue as part of my post-route headcanon storyline.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: In the Spotlight

Mitsuhide sat on the edge of a stuffed chair, a ‘sofa’, across from his little one’s father. Minoru, for his part, didn’t look any more comfortable with the company. Neither of them said anything. Mitsuhide found that his usual silver tongue had run out of witticisms when faced with the twin challenge of a world 500 years in the future and the need to impress the father of his beloved.

In the kitchen, the chatelaine and her mother Youko were making dinner. Their lively chatter was the only sound as the two men studied each other.

Finally, Minoru cleared his throat. “So. How did you two meet?”

“The answer to that would require additional explanation. Suffice it to say, I met her in the course of my work. Initially, she was a responsibility of mine. To train her so that she knew enough to stay ali- ah, safe.” Mitsuhide smiled. “She was quite a handful.”

Minoru frowned. “Safe? Safe from what? What kind of business are you in?” He leaned forward.

“Intelligence and information gathering.” He silently thanked Sarutobi for the modern words to describe being a spy and torturer.

“You work for a government?”

Mitsuhide nodded. “That is a good way to put it. Yes. For a government.”

His little mouse poked her head through the door. “Everything going ok, you two?”

Both men cleared their expressions and smiled over at her. “Yes,” they replied, almost in unison.

Her bright smile lit up the room. “I’m so glad. I wanted you two to get along. Anyway, dinner is almost ready!” She disappeared again and the smiles the two men wore faded like snow under a noon-day sun.

Minoru turned back to Mitsuhide. “How did my daughter get tangled up with some government agent? She designs clothes. She left for a job in fashion.” His voice is strained, half a year’s worth of worry and frustration pushing at the seams of his soul.

Mitsuhide nodded. “She is amazing at making clothing. That is a career she continues to pursue. But I met her the night she pulled my superior from a burning building. Had she not arrived when she did, he would have died.”

“My baby girl . . . pulled a man from a burning building?” Minoru’s eyebrows shot up, his expression one of incredulous disbelief.

“Yes, and after, he thought she should stay with our forces. For her protection and because he believed there was something special about her.” Mitsuhide’s thin smile reappeared. “He wasn’t wrong. She is very special. A wonder.”

Minoru coughed. “Well, yes, but . . . a burning building? She isn’t, that is, she wouldn’t just -”

Mitsuhide leaned forward. “You know her from her childhood. If she knew someone was going to burn to death and she had a chance to save them, would she leave them to die? Is it so unbelievable?”

He shook his head slowly. He knew his daughter was exactly the kind of girl to put herself at risk for another. “I should not be surprised. When she was five, she ran out into the street to stop traffic for a kitten. Almost got hit by a car. And it wasn’t until after the cat was safe that she even realized how close she came to dying.”

Both men chuckled.

“That sounds exactly like something my little mouse would do.”

Minoru scowled. “Your what?”

“A nickname,” Mitsuhide waved the comment off.

And then the call came for dinner. They all sat down around the table. A spread of familiar and strange foods that piqued Mitsuhide’s curiosity. He wondered which of these his beloved had made, and which her mother. To be safe, he thought, it would be wise to compliment every dish.

“So,” her mother began after everyone was served. “My daughter tells me you’re a warlord working for Oda Nobunaga?”

Mitsuhide choked in surprise, the bite of food sticking in his throat. He glanced at his little mouse for confirmation.

“It just sort of popped out while we were talking.”

With effort and a glass of water, Mitsuhide swallowed and cleared his throat. “I didn’t expect to bring this up until after dinner, but yes.”

Minoru scowled. “You’re telling me you work for a man 500 years dead?”

“I don’t know, he seemed pretty lively last time I saw him,” Mitsuhide quipped.

His little mouse grinned. “Papa, be nice! I told you, we will tell you everything.” She took a deep breath. “It started the day I arrived in Kyoto. I went sightseeing . . .”

Mitsuhide listened as attentively as her parents, this version of the tale filling in gaps and details he hadn’t known. Her timely rescue of Sasuke Sarutobi, her run-in with the forces from Kasugayama. It appeared his little one was better at keeping secrets that he’d credited.

Through the story, her mother made little sounds of agreement or surprise, but Minoru was deathly silent. His expression turned darker at every part until he couldn’t hold back anymore. “This sounds like some ridiculous cartoon! You can’t expect your mother and I to buy this. Tell the truth! What is he, some mafia? A gambler? What?”

Youko frowned at him from across the table. “Now you just hush and eat your food. If our little girl says this is what happened, I believe her. She has no reason to lie. She knows we support her no matter what. Don’t we, dear?”

Minoru’s brows lowered. “You can’t be serious. This, this man shows up with our daughter after months with no word! Not a letter! Not a post card! With this crazy story and we’re supposed to just -”

“Accept it. You know as well as I do that if our girl didn’t write or call, it’s because she couldn’t. When you think of it that way, it makes perfect sense.” Youko nodded to emphasize her point. “Besides, when have you ever known her to lie.”

“She’s terrible at that,” Mitsuhide added drily.

Minoru’s scowl deepened. “Don’t talk like you know her. Maybe you drugged her or something, and now she thinks all that is true.”

Mitsuhide sighed. He’d expected this kind of reaction after Sasuke and his little one explained what ‘meeting the parents’ entailed. He was beginning to wish he could have simply sent some gifts and a contract, or better yet, left that to Nobunaga and simply married the girl. “We did bring some proof with us today, and we have friends tomorrow who can vouch for everything.”

Youko gave Mitsuhide an encouraging smile. “Why don’t you go get it? I’m sure it will make Mino a little less grouchy.”

“I’m not grouchy,” Minoru grumbled.

“You are, papa. But it’s ok. This is really all my fault. I wish I’d been able to call you both. I missed you so much.”

Her father swallowed whatever he’d planned to say, touched by his daughter’s affection.

Mitsuhide went to their bags and grabbed his sword and the clothes he’d arrived in. He carried them back to the dining area. These were unlikely to be enough, he thought, but it wasn’t as if they’d planned to be swept to this time that night.

“Our clothes -” he set them down, “and my sword.”

Minoru poked at the clothing, unimpressed. The sword, however, got his attention. “This . . . it isn’t just some decorative piece . . .” The words were quiet, said more to himself than anyone.

Still, Mitsuhide answered. “No. That blade has taken many lives.”

“And saved some too,” his little mouse added. “Mine included.”

Minoru looked between the two of them. “Maybe you’ve both lost your minds. This thing -” He pointed at the sword, “is clearly an antique, but that proves nothing.”

“You are so stubborn,” Youko huffed.

Mitsuhide was beginning to see where his little one got that quality. Sweetness from her mother, stubbornness from her father. It made him smile.

***

Miyake and Sasuke sat at a nearby bar, drinks in hand.

“So this is called karaoke?” Miyake eyed the screen with words that moved and then emptied his sake cup. “And I can sing whatever I want?”

“Not whatever. I doubt they have any songs you know on file. But I think the enjoyment quotient will still be high.” Sasuke began tapping through the song selection, his expression focused. He stopped when he came across one with the image of a pink-faced girl. “This one.”

Miyake shrugged. “Alright.”

The music started. It sounded nothing like the instruments Miyake knew, or the rhythms and beats that were familiar to him. Still, he could pick out the melody, and it was nice - if strange.

The first word on the screen lit up and Sasuke started singing. His voice was surprisingly pleasant, even though the lyrics were senseless.

Miyake joined him on the next verse, nodding to the beat. It was a cheerful tune, he thought. Perfect to drink to. He poured another glass for himself and the ninja.

They emptied that and another as the song ended. The next pick was Miyake’s. He chose one based on the picture, a cute girl in a ridiculously short skirt.

“This is the theme song for my favorite anime,” Sasuke grinned.

“Then I picked a good one?”

Sasuke patted his arm. “A great one.”

Two hours later, both of them were too drunk to walk straight. Their singing got louder as their ability to pronounce the lyrics dwindled.

“Todokete atsuku naru omi . . .” The song dissolved into drunken laughter.

Miyake threw an arm around Sasuke. “Y-you’re my besht - besht fren.”

Sasuke leaned into the hug. “N-now I have two! Two besht frienz - friends.” He grinned but the expression slid into a sad frown.

“Wha - what ish it?” Miyake peered at the ninja’s face. “Need more sake?”

“I - I wish my other fren wash here,” Sasuke hiccuped. “An Shingen. I wash goin- going to take him to a hoshpital.”

Miyake nodded, though he didn’t understand. “Maybe nexsht time?”

“If he livesh,” Sasuke sighed.

“To Shingen,” Miyake poured them another round of sake. “And nexsht time!”

They drank to the toast.

Sasuke poured another. “And to friendsh we lef-left behind.”

They drank to that too.

After several more toasts that grew further away from the original point - to short skirts and lady’s stockings, to coffee, to the karaoke bar - the two men finally paid their tab and stumbled to the hotel.

Miyake nearly puked on the elevator, as the movement made his stomach flip. He would have taken the stairs, if he thought he could find the steps. He leaned on Sasuke as they walked down the hall. It felt like their room was miles away.

Sarutobi fumbled with the lock, and when the door opened, they fell inside.

Between leaning on each other and the walls, they managed to stand again.

“I’m go-gonna shower,” Miyake mumbled.

“Me nexsht,” Sasuke agreed. He tripped toward the beds and fell into the nearest one, face first.

Miyake made it to the shower, but didn’t manage to turn it on. He slumped to the floor and leaned his head back on the cool tiles, falling into a deep sleep.

Next: Middle Ground

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #mitsuhide akechi #ikesen sasuke #otome guys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff

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thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years

Text

Let’s talk: Vlive Asks and comment/chat discussions

From @cottoncandykings: Hello! As u probably know jimin just went live recently and again he mentioned mandaggo and discussing about doing it with tae. I just find it so weird though. I mean jimin keeps constantly mentioning it and its not like vminnies were begging or dying for a vmin live everyday even before jimin mentioned it last year. Even now most including myself dont really care that much ofc i m happy if they do one together. But the way jimin keeps mentioning it is so weird. Like surely if he wanted to do it so badly he could have talked to tae privately and arranged it by now. And if tae is the one that doesnt want to do it then idk why jimin is pushing it. But what was really weird to me this time was that he said there were lots of comments about mandaggo yesterday in zoom call and yet they didnt mention it yesterday but suddenly today without prompting he talks about it. I also hope no one spammed the zoom call chat or the vlive chat with requests for vmin live (i didnt see any) bcoz thats just unnecessary and demanding. I hope vminnies wont demand/ ask for another memeber when one of them is live. Its just disrespectful. This turned into a rant sorry. Do you think it was weird too?

Since Admin 2 can’t type their thoughts themselves, I’ll relay their thoughts to you instead, since they had more thoughts/opinions/ideas in regard to this than I do, to be honest.

Admin 2 is sure that there is a good chance that we will get a vmin vlive sometime soon, which I know contradicts their original opinion and post from a few months ago, but there’s a reason for it. During the zoom meeting between BTS and ARMY they noticed something I don’t think anyone else noticed, or at least neither of us has seen any vminnies mention it anywhere, which in conjunction with Jimin’s vlive today and saying how he’d talk to Tae about doing a mandaggo vlive again, as well as another observation a little while ago, leads them to this conclusion.

So, the observation from the zoom meeting. Basically at one point when the question of Jimin doing a vlive arose Tae looks at Jimin and then he nods while smiling which in turn makes Jimin smile as he turns away from Tae and back to face toward the camera before answering the question and saying how he’ll come visit us the next day. Which he did.

Then the other observation from a while ago, this one being from their OT7 vlive celebrating their BBH100 #1 on June 29th where at one point Jimin says something but slips into satoori after which Tae encourages him to say that again but this time in the Seoul accent, so the way they actually should speak, which Jimin says isn’t difficult but he doesn’t actually end up repeating what he said.

And lastly in today’s vlive Jimin mentioned how he’s using satoori quite often but that he isn’t all that good at doing it on command or at teaching it to others, which is something he’d have to do for mandaggo but I’m sure he’d manage just fine if the time came for it.

Based on that Admin 2′s thoughts are basically that Jimin really meant it when he said, last year, that he’ll bring Tae around for a vlive, that it wasn’t a joke or a way to tease us with something he knew he wouldn’t be able to deliver, but rather that up until this point they weren’t quite sure how to do it. Which sounds a bit odd, I know, but what they mean is that if vmin were to just sit down in front of the camera and were supposed to just talk based on what the chat would give them, it would likely just turn out awkward and weird and no one, including them, would really have fun. Even more so when we take into account how idiotic the chat is during regular vlives so now imagine if those two were to do one together that’s just a casual chat. It would likely end up in disaster and honestly I wouldn’t wish it upon them to read all those awful comments that they would likely get, even worse ones than they already get normally, to be honest.

But now that the whole satoori thing was brought up, and Jimin actually mentioned mandaggo and wanting to bring it back after so many years, Admin 2 thinks that they must’ve finally figured out a solution to their problem, if you can call it that. Doing mandaggo would basically mean they would have an activity, something to do similar to how they did those ASMR videos for the Japanese Fan Club which were fun and cute, and so Admin 2 thinks that perhaps chances are we will finally get the vlive we’ve waited for so long (though like many others I’ve long given up the idea).

Another confirmation is that during his vlive today Jimin basically said that he only came by for a little while since they are quite busy and had to soon get ready for work with the other members but that he’ll return in two or three weeks for a more proper, longer, vlive. So, he could’ve treated today’s vlive as the promised one but instead he saw it more as a bridging one between the zoom meeting and the proper vlive he wants to do, so is it the farfetched to think that he had proper plans for a vlive, like doing mandaggo, but it just wouldn’t have worked out time wise today so he moved the actual vlive he wanted to make to a later date?

One last thing (well two actually) that has nothing to do with this question but Admin 2 wanted me to include it anyway is that one, have you noticed how Tae and Jimin were both on weverse around 3 am (until almost 4am (also both of them posting a comment to some post at 03:41 am KST)) one after the other (though with one day of a break in between them) recently and then also two, that Jimin was up until like 6 am (since he posted on weverse around that time) on the 8th and then during the zoom meeting Tae answered a question by saying that he’d been awake until 6 am the previous day (also the 8th) since he wanted to see the sunrise? Which is also something an anon mentioned to us. Curious, isn’t it?

From anon: I request both admins to please post this ask. So jimin wwnt live today and one of the accounts on twt posted a screen cap of them commenting 'touch your hair if vmin is real' in the live chat and jimin's reaction to it. Now idk if it is an edit or real. No matter i just want to say its not ok to bring up ships in front of the members no matter which ship it is. We dont know the reality of their relationship so lets not make them uncomfortable. Its not a joke. Its not funny. Be respectful the members are real people.

(Admin 1 taking over from this point onward) This ask nicely ties into the last one that’ll be further down in this post since they cover a similar issue of sorts. But let’s start with this one asking about, essentially, vlive comments and the things fans ask/comment, which also ties in with the above ask as well.

The thing with the vlive chat, and especially comments/questions that are like anon said, questions or “commands/requests” about touch your hair if XYZ ship is real or cough twice if you love XYZ member or, likewise, comments such as where is XYZ member or what are the other members doing, unfortunately those have been a steady and unchanging part of the vlive chat since basically forever. It’s been an issue on and off with different intensities though I feel like it’s gotten worse again this year. Particularly if we look back at the vlive Tae did with Hobi and Yoongi and how essentially the entire chat was filled with comments related to Xkook and not much else.

If my memory doesn’t fail me we once even had a situation some years ago (2016) where the chat during Hobi’s vlive was so bad, as in so full of questions about that other members instead of him, that you could see he was upset about it and eventually he handed over the vlive to Jimin, whom the chat had requested Hobi to visit, and Hobi just left. And I can’t blame him for it since the chat must’ve made him feel like basically no one cared about him so what was even the point of him being there, right?

Personally I’ve long given up looking at the comments during vlive because they just make me cringe and feel bad for the members, especially when I think back to vlives such as Yoongi’s D2 one last year where he was so excited to talk about the songs and the process of making the mixtape and yet so many of the comments were just unrelated nonsense and annoying request like speak english or can you say my name or say hello in XYZ language. If it makes me question why the people posting those questions are in the chat, why they are fans to begin with, imagine what the members must feel like, how discouraging that must feel like. After all they are musicians and yet so rarely do they get questions about that. Or rather they do get them but they are just drowned out by nonsense. Which is a shame. And also very disrespectful but any attempts that were made to remind people to be respectful, to remember their place as fans, to focus on the member that’s doing the vlive instead of asking about the others, and to keep ships away from the members have failed because some don’t care and will continue to not care.

From anon: what are your opinions on the Qs that were asked during that zoom meeting thing between BTS and ARMY?

Now I’d like to preface my answer to this last question by saying that by no means do my grievances come from a place of jealousy or anything. I’m very happy for all the ARMYs that won their spot, that they got to participate in the event and that BTS got to see ARMYs again even if only on screens and not in person still. No, my issue stems from something completely different, and I don’t want to say that the system chose the wrong people, because that would be mean and also who even knows how the winners were chosen, if it was pure luck or there were some actual criteria that went into the process, but the fact is that only a select 200 ARMYs got that spot out of however many that applied, so basically for some this was a once in a lifetime chance, right, even just getting this close to asking Bangtan a question and have really great chances of having them give you an answer while acknowledging you somewhat instead of just seeing pure words on a screen, you know what I mean?

Now imagine you are one of those 200 ARMYs and you get the chance to fill the chat with questions along with the other 49 participants of your session and you decide that asking questions such as what it’s like for Jimin to work as angel, if Namjoon ever broke a bicycle, or why JK smells the crowns of the other members heads? Or even worse, you decide to ask about JKs shower routine and in which order he washes his body? And sure, the “fault” doesn’t fall completely on the ARMYs alone, after all it’s the members who read out those questions and not some magical off screen entity, and since I wasn’t part of the event I can’t say with a hundred percent certainty that no one asked any “proper” questions, but if those were the questions that ended up being read out loud, is it that hard to guess that likely all the questions looked similarly?

Which brings me to my main grievance of it all: have you forgotten that you are fans of musicians and not reality TV stars or vloggers/influencers? I know there were likely no rules for what questions you could or couldn’t ask (except for probably ones that were 100% about shipping or far too personal), but really, you get to ask your favorite band a question, something you might never, ever get the chance to do again, and your first thought isn’t to ask about their music but instead about some unimportant nonsense like the angel question or if they differentiate between the clothes they wear at home and those they sleep in? Like sure the angel one was kinda funny, maybe, and Jimin handled it in a cute way, I applaud him for it, but was that really necessary?

I know someone asked JK about Decalcomania, as well as Tae about his mixtape, and Yoongi/Jimin about Tony Montana (season 2), but other than that were there any other questions about their music? Perhaps I’m overthinking things, maybe I’m exaggerating and maybe I’m the only one who sees an issue with this, but if I would’ve won a spot, I’d rather have asked something about their process when writing lyrics or creating beats or how they prepare when learning new choreographies, what it’s like to be on tour (though perhaps that would be a mean question seeing as tours aren’t really something that’ll continue being possible for a while still), you get the point.

It makes me wonder if it was just bad luck or if it had something to do with how old the participants were (I saw some being as young as fifteen), which isn’t to say that teens can’t ask smart questions because they definitely can just like adults can ask stupid ones as well, but somewhere something, in my opinion, just went weirdly. And maybe that was the point of it all, for the event to be casual, funny, lighthearted, but my question then is when is the time for music discussions? For fans to ask those types of questions that actually have something to do with the boys careers? When even journalists aren’t asking them proper questions, ARMYs aren’t either, so what is the point of it all then?

Then again, after the event concluded and Seokjin came onto vlive he seemed so happy and excited, so maybe they had fun (I mean they seemed to have fun) and didn’t mind at all that the questions were lighthearted and silly, maybe I’m the one making mountains out of molehills. I don’t know, but anon wanted to know my thoughts/opinions, and this is them. Once again, I don’t mean to be mean toward the ARMYs that got rightfully in, that won, and I don’t want to insult them for the questions they asked, perhaps I just expected/hoped for something a little different? And perhaps I’m the only one. I don’t know.

#answered ask #BTS #vmin #jimin #Vmin vlive

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